Columbia ©nitoers^ttp 
 
 intI)eCftpof3^m|ork 
 
 THE LIBRARIES 
 
 Bequest of 
 
 Frederic Bancroft 
 
 1860-1945 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE or DAYID FERRia 
 
 AN 
 
 3jiprDBBi Jllinishr uf \\)t mit^ nf frmh. 
 
 LATE OF WILMINGTON IN THE STATE OF DELAWARE. 
 
 .WPJ[TTEN ,BX .HIMSF^LF. 
 
 REVISHD AND CORRECTED ■FRC.:.jyr'.IL'.<iR^G\NAL COPV IN MANUSCRIPT. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 MEaRiiiEw & Thompson's Steam Power Press, 
 
 Merchant Street above Fourth. 
 
 1855. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 David Ferris, the subject of the folloT\'Ing Me- 
 moir, was the son of Zachariah and Sarah Ferris, 
 late of New Milford, in the State of Connecticut. 
 His grandfather, Samuel Ferris, came from Read- 
 ing, in England, and was one of the early settlers 
 of the Massachusetts Colony. David's parents had 
 a family of eight children, of which he was the third. 
 
 When a large family of children are remarkable 
 for the propriety of their conduct, or become greatly 
 useful in society, it is almost always found, on a 
 close inquiry, that their mother has been eminently 
 qualified, by her piety and other virtues, for the 
 important concern of education. That such was 
 the character of David Ferris's mother, is evident, 
 as well from tradition as by authentic documents 
 yet extant in the family. In a short account of his 
 parentage, written many years after her death, by 
 her son Benjamin, he says, " My mother lived seve- 
 ral years after my father's decease. She was of 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the Puritan sort of people — a Tvoman of great un- 
 derstanding, and well versed and read in the Scrip- 
 tures and other good books ; — of extensive know- 
 ledge, and having a memory to exceed most per- 
 sons that ever I knew. She was of a pious and 
 religious disposition, being like Mary of old, who, 
 as our Lord said, had chosen that good part that 
 should not be taken away from her. Her exem- 
 plary conduct and behaviour made a deep impres- 
 sion on my mind when very young, even when not 
 more than nine or ten years old." This character 
 of his mother is amply confirmed by her son David 
 in the following work, where in several places he 
 refers to her concern for his welfare, whilst strug- 
 gling through the temptations and difficulties of his 
 early life. 
 
 The following brief memoir has many touching 
 references to her maternal care. In one place the 
 author says, "My mother being a religious woman, 
 and much concerned for the good of her offspring, 
 both temporally and spiritually, was frequent in 
 giving us good advice and admonition, that we might 
 shun the paths of error ; and teaching us, by her 
 own example as well as by precept, to walk in the 
 ways of virtue, which lead to peace. This was a 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 great help to us while young, and was not easily 
 forgotten when we came to maturity." 
 
 Her son Benjamin, in the short account before 
 mentioned, says, " She was of the Puritan sort of 
 people." It has become customary in modern times 
 to think and speak disrespectfully of the Puritans, 
 as a severe, morose, repulsive sect. This has arisen 
 partly, perhaps, from the character of the New 
 England hierarchy in the seventeenth century, 
 which, in connection with the civil Government, 
 passed and executed many severe laws against the 
 innocent dissenters from their creed. But the early 
 settlers of Massachusetts were by no means true 
 representatives of the old or primitive Puritans. 
 The latter, as early as the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
 separated from the established Church, on pure 
 conscientious grounds, the same, in many particu- 
 lars, that induced George Fox and his religious as- 
 sociates to withdraw from its communion. They 
 were a sincere, upright, spiritually-minded people ; 
 in their ministry and worship approaching much 
 nearer to the standard of Truth, as afterwards raised 
 by Friends, than any other society existing in the 
 fore part of the seventeenth century. A very large 
 portion of George Fox's fellow laborers had sat 
 under the Puritan ministry ; and there can be no 
 1* 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 doubt that, under that ministry, their minds were 
 prepared for the further unfolding of Divine truth, 
 which was afterwards effected through his instru- 
 mentality.* The Puritans of the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries, through faithfulness (in many 
 instances iinto death's were a means, in the Divine 
 hand, of holding up a light to the world which can 
 never be wholly extinguished. 
 
 In his early minority David Ferris was favored 
 with a remarkable Divine visitation, under which 
 he was made willing to renounce all the ensnaring 
 allurements incident to that period of life. Whilst 
 he was careful to live in a state of watchfulness and 
 prayer, the knowledge of divine things was unfolded 
 to his understanding, and, by dwelling under the 
 cross of Christ, his yoke became easy and his bur- 
 den light ; childish vanities were distasteful to him ; 
 to use his own language — «' the world and the things 
 thereof lost all their lustre," in his sight. 
 
 * For evidence of the truth of this sentiment, see ••' The 
 Gospel Treasury Opened," by John Everard j " The Hea- 
 venly University, wherein is the highest teaching,— the 
 teaching of the heart," by Francis Rouse ; *■ The Crucified 
 and quickened Christian," " Christ's Spirit a Christian's 
 Strength,'" and other works of William Dell; '' The Way 
 to the Sabbath of rest, or the Soul's progress in the work ot 
 the new birth,'' and other treatises, by Thomas Bromley: 
 all published in the 17th century. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 He was now approaching liis twentieth year, a 
 period when the world and its glories are usually 
 presented to the youthful mind with their strongest 
 attractions. In recurring to this period, he very 
 feelingly expresses his regret that, not keeping his 
 eye single to the Divine Light, he lost his heavenly 
 Leader, and then ''the world rose again with splen- 
 dor to his view." In this state " earthly delights 
 and vanity " became objects of his ardent affection, 
 so much so, that he " took great pleasure in airy 
 and vain company." His mother, ever watchful 
 over his best interests, saw his danger, and was 
 alarmed. She mourned over his fall, and urged his 
 return. During this season of alienation from his 
 Divine Leader, he suffered grievously under a sense 
 of his transgression, and was not restored to the 
 heavenly Father's house until, like the Prodigal 
 Son, he had endured all the horrors of a famine, 
 during an awful separation from the only source of 
 real enjoyment. 
 
 Our late Friend, George Dillwyn, whose worth 
 as a member and minister of the church of Christ 
 will long be remembered with affectionate regard, 
 gave it as his judgment, that David Ferris's Me- 
 moirs were amongst the most instructive he had 
 ever read, because the author recorded Jus errors 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and the means of his recovery more circumstantially 
 than others. Knowing that " the whole need not 
 a physician, but they that are sick," he thought 
 the experiences recorded in the work were very 
 valuable, as affording to the wanderer great en- 
 couragement to return, repent and live. 
 
 After David had refused to take a diploma, he 
 left the College and returned to the home of his 
 parents. They had heard of his proceedings — had 
 learned he had renounced the honors and profits 
 of the clerical profession, together with a lucrative 
 post which had been provided for him. His father 
 was thereby greatly grieved and offended. Under 
 these feelings he declared that, if these reports 
 were true, he desired his son might never again 
 come to his house ; and when afterwards he came 
 there, refused to speak to him. This disposition on 
 the part of his father, greatly alarmed and dis- 
 tressed his mother. While she deeply felt for the 
 grief and disappointment of her husband, her heart 
 yearned with compassion over her innocent son, of 
 whose sincerity she had no doubts, though she may 
 have had fears concerning the soundness of his judg- 
 ment. After his father had refused to speak to 
 David, as related in the Memoirs, she sought a 
 private conference with her son. In this oppor- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 tunity she questioned him closely in relation to his 
 religious principles and conduct at College. To all 
 her inquiries he gave such a clear account of him- 
 self and his proceedings, as left her in silent won- 
 der at both the Divine goodness and her son's in- 
 tegrity. In this frame of mind she met her husband, 
 and taking him aside, informed him that, in a full 
 and free conference with David, she was satisfied 
 he had acted conscientiously ; that many of the 
 reports concerning him were wholly unfounded, and 
 that she had a lively hope he would yet do well. 
 This wise and affectionate conduct of the mother 
 softened the wounded feelings of the father, and 
 prepared the way for the conciliatory interview 
 between him and his son, as mentioned in the fol- 
 lowing narrative. 
 
 After this time, the mother and five children, to 
 wit, David, Benjamin, Hannah, John and Zacha- 
 riah, joined in membership with Friends. These 
 children all became approved and valuable minis- 
 ters of the Gospel, and died in unity with the 
 Society. 
 
 EDITOR. 
 
 Fourth month 12th, 1855. 
 
A TESTIMONY 
 
 FROM WILMINGTON MONTHLY MEETING, IN THE COUNTY OP NEW 
 CASTLE, ON DELAWARE, CONCERNING 
 
 DAVID FEllKIS. 
 
 He was the son of Zacbariah and Sarah Ferris ; and 
 was born in Stratford, in Connecticut government, New 
 England, the 10th of the Third month, 1707. His pa- 
 rents being Presbyterians, brought him up in that way; 
 his mother being religiously disposed, and much con- 
 cerned for her offspring, frequently gave them good ad- 
 vice and admonition ; which had some good effect with 
 this, our friend, as he has often been heard to express. 
 
 We find, by some remarks he left, that about the 
 twelfth year of his age, he was frequently visited and 
 called unto by the divine Monitor in his heart, to forsake 
 evil and youthful vanities, which he delighted in ; and, 
 by being in a good degree faithful thereto, was for a time 
 preserved from them ; but for want of attending to that 
 which would have continued to preserve him, the pleasures 
 and vanities of this world got hold of his mind ; so that 
 he took much delight in airy and vain company, music 
 and dancing, and such like amusements, until about the 
 twentieth year of his age ; when it pleased the Lord to 
 visit him with a sore fit of sickness, which proved of last- 
 ing advantage to him, as it occasioned him to take up a 
 fresh resolution, to forsake the evil of his ways, and turn 
 to the Lord with full purpose of heart; which he was, 
 through mercy, favored with ability in measure to per- 
 form. 
 
 He still continued in profession with the Presbyterians, 
 not having any knowledge of Friends ; although, by at- 
 
12 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 tending to the teachings of divine grace, he became con- 
 vinced of the principle we profess ; and hearing of ayearlj 
 meeting of Friends to be held on Long Island, went to it, 
 with desires to discover whether they were a living people 
 or not, for such he desired to find ; where he met with 
 what he often longed for, a people that worshipped God 
 in spirit and in truth ; which was a great strength and 
 confirmation to him, in forsaking the errors of his youth. 
 And by yielding obedience to these inward motions, he 
 gained strength, and was more and more enabled to bear 
 a faithful testimony to the truth, as it was made known 
 to him. 
 
 In the Sixth month, 1733, he removed to Philadelphia, 
 where he joined in religious fellowship with Friends. In 
 1785, he married Mary, the daughter of Samuel and 
 Sarah Massey ; and in 1737, removed to Wilmington, in 
 New Castle County ; where he resided the remainder of 
 his days. 
 
 He made some appearance in the ministry about the 
 year 1731 j but through unfaithfulness to the Divine call, 
 he from time to time put it off, and remained in a neglect 
 of duty therein upwards of twenty years ; although he was 
 often warned, both immediately and instrumentally, in a 
 remarkable manner; which, at length, produced a sub- 
 mission to the Divine will ; so that, in the year 1755, he 
 was made willing to give up thereto, and therein found 
 great peace. 
 
 He travelled through divers parts of this continent in 
 the work of the ministry ; and, by certificates produced 
 on his return home, it appeared that his conduct, conver- 
 sation, and labors abroad, were exemplary and edifying ; 
 tending to the advancement of truth and righteousness. 
 His doctrine was sound, and acceptable to the honest- 
 hearted, though sharp against the hypocrite and rebel- 
 lious ; yet tender to the mourners and disconsolate. 
 
 He was very serviceable in our meetings for discipline; 
 which, with other meetings, he diligently attended ; not 
 suflFering his outward afiairs to hinder him from what he 
 
Mf:MOIPtS. OF DAVID FERRIS. lo 
 
 believed to be his religious duty. And, althougli he fol- 
 lowed shop-keeping for a living, it was his practice to 
 shut up his shop, and take his faniilj with him to week- 
 day meetings j often expressing, for the encouragement of 
 others, that he believed it was attended with a blessing. 
 He was free and open-hearted to entertain Friends, and 
 concerned to bring up his childron in plainness, and in- 
 struct them in the fear of the Lord, believing that to be 
 the best portion they could inherit ; remarkably charitable 
 to the poor, and often administered to their necessities. 
 
 Bodily weakness attended him during the last three 
 years of his life ; and near the close of his days he was 
 much afflicted with sickness, which he bore with patience ; 
 often expressing his prospect of his approaching end, and 
 his resignation therein, saying, ^'AU is well." Several 
 Friends being present, after a time of silence, he in a 
 lively manner repeated the expressions of the Apostle— 
 " To me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.'' 
 
 He departed this life the 5th of the Twelfth month, 
 1779, aged upwards of seventy-two, a minister about 
 twenty-four years. On the 7th of the same month, his 
 corpse was interred in our burying ground in Wilmington. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 When I consider the situation of man in liis fallen 
 state, and the great change that all must experience be- 
 fore they can be delivered from the power of darkness, 
 and be translated into the kingdom of the dear Son of 
 God ; that, in order to attain to this happy state, all must 
 experience a mortification of their natural tempers and 
 evil propensities ; must know the " old man " to be slain, 
 and the " new man '' to be put on ; which, after God, is 
 created in righteousness and true holiness ; and that, in 
 order to walk in the new aud living way, we must know 
 old things to pass away and all things to become new. I 
 say, when I consider these things, I feel a concern for 
 my fellow men, that they may become acquainted with 
 this change. iVnd, apprehending that I have had some 
 acquaintance with it, by passing through various dispensa- 
 ■ions of trial and affliction, I am inclined to leave some 
 account of them to posterity, to show to those who follow, 
 that the Lord is ever near, and will be found of those who 
 seek him early ; that he is long suffering towards those 
 who go astray, and merciful to all who sincerely turn to 
 him ; hoping it may minister information and encourage- 
 ment to weary travellers in the same road, and induce 
 them cheerfully to comply with divine requirings. 
 
 I wrote a short account of the fore part of my life in 
 Latin, continued to about tho twenty-fifth 3'ear of my age. 
 
IG MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 The many diflScultics and dangers in my way, and some- 
 times doubtinp; whether I should hold out to the end, in- 
 duced me to keep my history in a language unknown to 
 those about me. I concluded that if I should hold on 
 my way, I might afterward translate it into English, and 
 add to it, as I found freedom. And now, after about 
 twenty years' experience of divine support and preserva- 
 tion, having great cause to say that " God is good to them 
 who seek him," that none seek him in vain, and that his 
 tender mercies fail not, I am inclined to translate it, 
 hoping it may be useful, at least, to some of my posterity. 
 
 " I was born at Stratford in Connecticut, New England, 
 the 10th day of the Third month, 1707. My parents, 
 Zachariah and Sarah Ferris, made profession with the 
 people called Presbyterians ; and in that way I had my 
 education. My father, while 1 was very young, moved 
 to a place called New Milford. It being a newly settled 
 place, I had not the advantage of a school; but, under 
 the care of my mother, I soon learned to read in the Bible, 
 and understood that there was a Supreme Being, who 
 made all things, and preserved and upheld them in their 
 order: and that, as the workmanship of his hand, I stood 
 accountable to him for every part of my conduct. About 
 the eighth year of my age, I was informed that the Di- 
 vine Being was self-existent ; without beginning and with- 
 out end; and not being aljle to understand how that 
 could be, I sometimes thought so intensely on the sub- 
 ject that I became much bewildered. At length it was 
 shown me that the proposition was too high for my com- 
 prehension ; and I received something like a reproof for 
 searching into things beyond my capacity. From that 
 time I was fearful of prying into such deep mysteries. 
 
 j- My mother, being a religious woman, and much con- 
 cerned for the good of her offspring, both temporally and 
 spiritually, was frequent in giving them good advice and 
 admonition ; desiring that we might shun the paths of 
 error ; and teaching us, by her own example, as well as 
 
 ^by precept, to walk in the ways of virtue, which lead to 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 17 
 
 peace. This was a great help to us while young, and wa§^ 
 not easily forgotten when we came to maturity. Death 
 was frequently the subject of my thoughts; and, in the 
 twelfth year of my age, I was often called by the 
 Holy Spirit to forsake evil and leave youthful vanities, 
 which I then delighted in, and to be sober and circum- 
 spect in all my ways. By attention to the Divine call, 
 and to the reproofs of instruction daily communicated, I 
 was preserved from evil, and saw something of the beauty 
 of holiness ; the happy state of the righteous in the world 
 to come, and also the moving situation of the wicked 
 when they put off mortality and hear the awful sentence 
 pronounced, '' Depart ye cursed." 
 
 About this time a little circumstance occurred that 
 much affected my mind, and afforded me lasting instruc- 
 tion. As I was riding through a river, against a rapid 
 current, a young dog, attempting to swim after me, the 
 stream being too strong for him, could not keep up with 
 my horse. He appeared to be in the utmost distress, even 
 to desperation. As my mind was filled with pity for the 
 poor animal, it was opened to my view the awful amaze- 
 ment a poor soul must be in when leaving the world des- 
 titute of hope. As simple a circumstance as this may 
 appear, it was, I believe, of use to me for years. I was 
 very careful of my thoughts, words and actions for several 
 years afterwards; the fear of the Lord preserving me 
 from evil. My mind was humbled under a sense of my 
 daily want of divine help ; and as I abode under a reli- 
 gious concern, attending to the reproofs of instruction 
 which ^re the way to life, an increase of light and life 
 was communicated to me ; so that I came to delight in 
 virtue. As my desires and care for divine things increased, 
 the knowledge of them was unfolded. I could truly say 
 the Lord was my delight, and for some years, as I dwelt 
 in his fear, his yoke was easy, his burden light, and 
 all childish vanities were burdensome. 
 
 While I kept near the spring of life, with my mind 
 fixed on the true object, the world and the things thereof 
 2* 
 
18 MEMOIRS or DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 lost all their lustre. But, alas ! not keeping my eye single 
 to the light, I lost my Leader; and then, by little and 
 little, the world rose again with splendor to my view. 
 Earthly delights and vanity got such hold of my affec- 
 tions that I took great pleasure in airy and vain company. 
 This was an unspeakable loss to me, and I mention it that 
 others may take warning by my harms. It seemed almost 
 miraculous that I was ever restored from this lapsed state. 
 My mother mourned over me, and often advised and 
 urged my return ; showing me the danger of such a course 
 of vanity. Yet I was not wholly forsaken by my inward 
 Monitor and former Guide. At times it reproved me ; 
 at other times called me, wooing and pleading with me 
 to return. Sometimes, in the midst of my vanity, I saw 
 that I was in the way to death ; and that it would land 
 me in everlasting confusion if I did not forsake it. Some- 
 times my concern was so great, that I was obliged to leave 
 my vain companions, and retire so full of trouble and dis- 
 tress, that I had no satisfaction until a considerable time 
 afterward. During these seasons of affliction I was ready 
 to promise to forsake my vain course of life, and to cove- 
 nant with the Lord that I would do so no more, provided 
 he would be pleased to grant me his assistance. 
 But my efforts, being too much in my own strength, 
 proved unavailing. Vanity so prevailed tjiat 1 took great 
 delight in music, dancing and other vain amusements. 
 
 In the twentieth year of my age I was visited with 
 severe illness, so that I, and those about me, had very little 
 hope of my recovery. Then death stared me in the face ; 
 and a dreadful scene of woe, anguish and miserjj opened 
 to my view. It appeared clear to me that if I were then 
 taken off the stage of action I should be unavoidably lost ; 
 and that evil spirits were waiting round me, to convey 
 my soul to the mansions of misery and everlasting dark- 
 ness ; so that my horror, anxiety and distress were inex- 
 pressible. In the utmost anguish of mind I cried to the 
 Jjord for help, promising amendment, if more time and 
 ability were afforded me ; and it pleased a kind Provi- 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 19 
 
 dence to be propitious to me ; so that I was restored to 
 health, and in about a month was able to walk about. 
 
 After my recovery I remembered the distress I had 
 been in, and the promise I hud made, when under the 
 dreadful apprehension of everlasting misery and destruc- 
 tion. I saw the necessity of a faithful performance of 
 my vows. I was sensible that there was a work to be 
 done ; and that if I did not now comply with my pro- 
 mise, I should have to pass through the same, or rather a 
 worse scene of misery and distress. It appeared proba- 
 ble that a more convenient opportunity for repentance 
 than the present would not be afforded ; and I concluded 
 that this was the time to turn from vanity ', forsake my 
 evil ways ; and renounce all my sensual delights. But, 
 when I had resolved to begin the necessary work of re- 
 formation, the adversary of all good tempted me to 
 believe that it was too late to think of obtaining peace 
 with my Maker ; for this plain reason, '' that as there 
 was a day or time, in which men might be saved ; so, if 
 they let that opportunity pass away unimproved, it would 
 be in vain to attempt it afterward." He suggested, that 
 I had had such a day of visitation, and had passed by it ; 
 that I had been uncommonly favored with help, and for 
 a time did not accept of it ; that I had been made a par- 
 taker of the Holy Ghost ; that I had tasted of the good 
 word of God> and the powers of the world to come, and 
 had fallen from it ; so now it was impossible that I should 
 again be renewed unto repentance ; seeing I had cruci- 
 fied the son of God afresh, and put him to open shame. 
 This reasoning appeared so strong, and so consonant to 
 the apostle's doctrine, that I gave up the point ; and con- 
 cluded it was too late to attempt a return, with hope of 
 acceptance. 
 
 From that time, during the space of about two months, 
 I never sought for mercy ; but remained in utter despair. 
 My distress was as great as could well be supported with- 
 out loss of reason. I daily wished for death, so that it 
 
20 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 might occur without laying violent hands on myself; 
 which I was not much tempted to do. 
 
 It was usual with the young people of our neighbor- 
 hood to spend much of their time in vanity and merri- 
 ment ; forgetful of Grod, their Creator ; as if they had 
 been made to please themselves in the gratification of a 
 sensual mind, and, provided they were not profanely 
 wicked, the elderly part of the Society were not very un- 
 easy with it. But, in the year 1727, there was a great 
 reformation at New-Milford, among the young people of 
 the Presbyterian profession. They had been awakened 
 by the immediate operation of the Holy Spirit on their 
 own minds ; and were brought into great concern for 
 their future well being ; under which they had no out- 
 ward assistance. The apostolic doctrine of " Christ 
 within,'' and of being '^ led by the Spirit of God," was 
 denied by the priest and many of the people, who ap- 
 peared to have little sense of a divine Teacher in them- 
 selves ; but asserted that revelation had now ceased, and 
 no such thing was to be experienced in this day. As I 
 had been the companion of those young people in vanity 
 and dissipation, they (knowing nothing of my inward 
 condition, which I had not discovered to any) generally 
 applied to me for counsel and advice ; and I was much 
 concerned on their account ; being desirous of affording 
 them assistance, although I had no hope of relief at that 
 time for myself. 
 
 My trouble continued and increased; so that I had no 
 satisfaction in life. On a certain day, in this season of 
 despair and deep distress, I concluded to leave my native 
 land and go into some foreign country, to spend the resi- 
 due of my days; where I purposed to remain unknown, 
 and that none of my relations or acquaintance should 
 know what was become of me. Being, in my own apprehen- 
 sion, a poor, lost, reprobate creature, I was not willing to 
 remain at home, to be a disgrace to my relations and 
 country people. This was a day of the deepest affliction 
 and distress that I had known. Towards evening, as I 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 21 
 
 followed the plouc^h, my attention was arrested, as it were, 
 by a still, small voice, sayinir, " The blood of Jesus 
 Christ his son cleanseth from all sin." But I put it by ; 
 saying in my heart, " It is too late ; there has been a day 
 wherein I might have been cleansed ; but, alas ! I have 
 let it pass over my head for ever." Some time after this, 
 (perhaps half an hour,) while T was musing on what land I 
 should flee to, the same words passed through ray mind 
 again, with more authority than before, and commanded 
 my attention rather more closely than they had done ; 
 but I again put them by ; concluding I had lost all right 
 to apply them to myself. So I resumed the considera- 
 tion of my flight to a foreign land. In the mean time 
 my sorrow and anxiety of mind increased ; so that I was 
 not well able to support it, or go on with my business. 
 But while I was still musing, the same words unsought 
 for, and unexpectedly, passed through my mind with 
 greater power and authority than at at any time before, 
 *^ The blood of Jesus Christ his sou cleanseth us from all 
 sin." At the sound of them my soul leaped for joy. I 
 felt that a door of hope was opened, and said in my heart 
 ^' If all sin, why not mine f Then a living hope sprang 
 in my soul. I saw the arms of mercy open to receive 
 me, and the way cleared before me as a road through a 
 thicket. 
 
 I was now filled with joy unspeakable ; thanksgiving 
 and living praise to my Redeemer arose in my heart for 
 the experience of so great and marvellous a deliverance ; 
 that my feet should be plucked out of the mire and set 
 upon a rock ; that I, who had no hope just before, should 
 now be favored with a well-grounded assurance of par- 
 don and acceptance, was a mercy never to be forgotten. 
 
 From this time I sought for divine assistance ; and, in 
 infinite kindness, a hand of help was extended for my 
 restoration, and the healing of my backslidings. Then 
 I was enabled to sing upon the banks of deliverance, and 
 praise the name of Him who lives for ever. The Holy 
 Spirit, that blessed Teacher, with whom I had formerly 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 been favored, but bad forsaken, was now restored, as a 
 leader and teacber, to direct and instruct me in tbe way 
 to peace and rest. From this time my mind, after such 
 great favor, was bumbled and made subject to the cross 
 of Christ, and heartily willing to take it up, daily, and 
 follow him, my kind leader, in the narrow way of self- 
 denial. And as I was obedient, he led me to forsake my 
 vain course of life, and all those youthful delights and 
 sensual pleasures which were displeasing to my dear Lord 
 and Master ; who in wonderful mercy had lifted me out 
 of the dungeon, and heard my prayers in a time of deep 
 affliction. He now became my director in all things; 
 showing me clearly what my duties were ; and enabling 
 me to perform them in an acceptable manner. But if, at 
 any time, I acted in my own will, 1 lost my strength, and 
 found no acceptance nor benefit by my performances ; by 
 which I gradually learnt, that I could do nothing, ac- 
 ceptably, without the immediate assistance of the spirit 
 
 'of Christ the Eedeemer. Thus I found a necessity to 
 apply continually to my only and all-sufficient helper ; and 
 humbly to wait for his assistance and direction ; and as I 
 was faithful, he led me into the path of life, which, if 
 
 ^continued in, will terminate in everlasting peace. 
 
 Having gradually learned that nothing of a religious na- 
 ture could be effectually done, without the immediate as- 
 sistance of the Holy Spirit, I may humbly acknowledge 
 that I was wonderfully favored with divine instruction ; 
 far beyond my expectation, and infinitely above my de- 
 serts. I was led, as it were, by the hand, and helped 
 over every difficulty that attended me. But the adver- 
 sary of my soul tried every stratagem to draw me aside 
 from the path of virtue. He strove,, night and day, to 
 deter me from walking in the narrow way ; representing 
 the difficulties to be so great that I could never hold out 
 to the end ; and that all my attempts would be in vain. 
 He seemed to be continually present, whether I was 
 awake or asleep, disquieting my mind as much as possi- 
 ble. But my prayer was incessant for divine aid ; that 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 23 
 
 a stronger than he miglit appear for ray help, and dis- 
 possess him. And, in about a year after I had been 
 raised from the pit of despair, as before rehited, I 
 received a promise that ''the God of peace would bruise 
 Satan under my feet shortly." Faith was given me to 
 believe in this promise ; and I hoped for a speedy deliver- 
 ance. But he continued to afflict mc with his assaults, 
 with temptations, and evil suggestions, for some months 
 afterward. Notwithstanding which, I still believed the 
 time would come, according to the promise, and I prayed 
 for its fulfilment, in the Lord's time. At length, a 
 stronger than he did indeed come, and cast him out, and 
 wholly dispossessed him ; and not only bruised him un- 
 der foot, but removed him far from me. 
 
 The power of the enemy to assault, or in any wise to 
 disquiet me, was now taken away ; neither was he able 
 to lay any temptation before me. Now was my soul daily 
 filled with thanksgiving and living praise for this deliver- 
 ance; as well as for all the other manifold mercies and 
 favors of God, from day to day, bestowed upon me, '' a 
 worm and no man." To the honor of his great name, 
 who hath done marvellous things for me, and to the praise 
 of his grace, I may say, that the adversary of all good 
 was not only thus prevented from troubling me ; but the 
 fountain of divine life was opened, and the water thereof 
 flowed so freely and plentifully into my soul, that I was 
 absorbed in it, and so enamoured thereby, that all the 
 riches, honors, and vain pleasures of this world, had no 
 place in my affections. In this state I longed to be dis- 
 solved and to be with Christ ; which, I was sensible, was 
 better than to be here. I do not know that there was 
 one moment, whilst I was awake, for the space of nearly 
 two years, in which I could not sing living praises to 
 him who liveth for ever and ever. No losses, crosses, or 
 disappointments did, in any degree, disturb me ; at least 
 not perceptibly, either to myself or others ; for my de- 
 light was in objects very different from any thing this 
 world can give, or take away. I dwelt as in the mount, 
 
24 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 out of my enemy's reach ; and, apparently, out of dan- 
 ger from any evil. Here I hoped to remain all the days 
 of my life, and that I never should be moved. 
 
 However strange this relation may appear to many, I 
 believe it is strictly true. I am sensible that some, who 
 have no experience in things of this nature, may smile 
 at this narrative ) but others may be glad to see in it a 
 relation of circumstances corresponding, perhaps, to their 
 ^own experience of trials passed through, or favors re- 
 ^_ceived from the divine and all bountiful hand. I have 
 no vanity in penning this account ; but rather a fear, lest 
 the succeeding part of my life should not correspond 
 with the favors conferred upon me, by a gracious bene- 
 factor ; as stated in the preceding account. 
 
 While I dwelt as on the mount, as before related, my 
 spiritual eyes were opened ; my understanding enlight- 
 ened and enlarged. I then wondered to see that the 
 world, as far as my knowledge of it extended, was more 
 in show than substance; better in appearance than in re- 
 ality -y that even the true form of godliness was too little 
 to be seen. I had conceived that the people among 
 whom I was educ .ted w^ere better than the other profes- 
 sors of Christianity ] but when my eyes were thus 
 anointed, to see clearly, I found very little true religion 
 among them. Primitive purity appeared to be very much 
 lost. I was affected with sorrow and mourning, on ac- 
 count of the great declension among the professors of the 
 Christian religion, in general : for the more I was con- 
 cerned to examine the subject, and sought for divine wis- 
 dom, the stronger were my convictions, the clearer my 
 views, of a general apostacy ; that a life of self-denial, a 
 dwelling under the cross of Christ, was very little re- 
 garded. 
 
 Before this period I had had a desire to acquire a know- 
 ledge of the languages, and other learning, and now my 
 mind became satisfied that it would be right for me to 
 {^pursue these objects; but, before I give an account of 
 my progress in this pursuit, I will recur to a subject men- 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS, 25 
 
 tioned before. It was said, that in the year 1727, soDfe 
 of my companious were brought under a concern for their 
 future happiness. This concern spread, and so increased 
 among the young people, at New-5lilford, that it became 
 general. Many that had spent much of their time in 
 vanity and mirth, were, at this period, exercised for their 
 eternal welfare; crying out, as some did formerly, '' What 
 shall we do to be saved V I think there were nearly 
 sixty of us, in about one year, who joined in close com- 
 munion with the Presb3'terians, in the participation of the 
 bread and wine. As we were faithful in the discharge 
 of our duty, as far as it was manifested to us, and en- 
 deavored to advance in the path of virtue, our understand- 
 ings became illuminated, so as to perceive some things in 
 a different light from that in which they were seen by our 
 fellow professors; both with respect to practical and doc- 
 trinal points. Sometimes we ventured to njcntion some 
 of our sentiments, on subjects in which we apprehended 
 there was a difference between us, which soon involved us 
 in trouble. 
 
 "We were accused of holding heretical opinions ; and 
 brought before the church to answer the accusation. 
 Neighboring ministers were called to deal with us, on this 
 occasion ; but they made little of it. I had previously 
 stated, in writing, the points of difference between us; 
 with the reasons for our dissent ; and when the congre- 
 gation met to deal with us, I presented it to them, where- 
 upon a committee was appointed, to examine the docu- 
 ment, and to judge whether it would be proper to read it 
 in that assembly. On their return, they reported favor- 
 ably, and it was read. When any difliculty occurred, I 
 was desired to explain my meaning, which 1 did accord- 
 ingly. After it was read through, they sat silent for 
 some time. At length, an ancient man rose, and said, 
 ^' If this be all wherein our younger brethren are supposed 
 to differ from us, there is nothing in this writing that I 
 cannot unite with, and say * Amen ' to." Others, of the 
 foremost rank, expressed the same opinion ; upon which 
 3 
 
26 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 it was concluded that our sentiments were not so lietero- 
 dox as to prevent communion with us. It was settled 
 accordingly; and we were pronounced members in full 
 communion. 
 
 But, notwithstanding this conclusion, a report was cir- 
 culated, and generally believed among the people, that 
 we were heretics; and I was considered as a leader among 
 them. Some called us Quakers ; but we knew nothing 
 of that people, and thought it as ill a name as they did; 
 though we considered it our duty patiently to bear the re- 
 proach cast on us for the Truth's sake. 
 
 But to continue the account of my proceedings relative 
 to the acquisition of learning. I first went to the teacher 
 in our parish, and staid with him, as a scholar, but one 
 month, until he refused to teach me any further, alleging, 
 as a reason for his refusal, that my opinions were too 
 heretical to admit of my reception into the college ; so 
 that my labor would be useless; or, at least, not answer 
 the end proposed. He was a weak man ; and had but 
 little experience in religious concerns, in which I had 
 now acquired some knowledge ; besides, he was not scholar 
 enough to teach me to any purpose ; which made me wil- 
 ling to leave him. 
 
 After this I soon concluded to go to Danby, abou 
 thirty miles from my father's house, and to place myself 
 under the tuition of a teacher whose name was Moss. I 
 had heard that he was a good scholar, and a good Chris- 
 tian. These qualities I thought would make the situa- 
 tion pleasant to me ; and I was not disappointed. Whilst 
 1 was preparing to go to him, I was suddenly taken sick, 
 and became so ill, that in a few hours it appeared doubt- 
 ful whether 1 should recover. I was in hope that my 
 departure was at hand; though I did not then see how 
 I should be disposed of. Whilst I was lying very ill, 
 though my understanding was calm and clear, and my 
 will fully resigned, my mother came to me, and asked 
 me if I thought I should die with that illness. I an- 
 swered, I did not know how that might be: but should 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. til 
 
 be glad to leave this world, if it were the will of God. 
 After some farther discourse, my mother left me alone; 
 and soon after, my soul (as I apprehended) departed from 
 the body. On which I was filled with joy ; concluding 
 I had done with this world, and all its troubles. Being 
 now freed from the shackles of mortality, I went on re- 
 joicing toward the land of bliss with great alacrity of 
 soul, and as I departed, I thought I saw my body lying a 
 lifeless lump of matter. But as I went forward, I was 
 met by some excellent person whom I took to be the Si n 
 of God ; and who informed me that I must not go ; say- 
 ing, " Thou must return to the body ; thou shalt not die 
 but live, and declare the wonderful works of the Lord." 
 I was troubled to think of returning, to be confined to a 
 body of clay. However, I stood still, musing and wait- 
 ing for direction ; when it appeared to be my duty to sub- 
 mit. I then said, " The will of the Lord be done," 
 and immediately I was in the body. ISoon after this, 
 my mother came a^^ain into the room, and repeated 
 the question she had put to me before; to wit, whether 
 I thought I should die at that time. I answered, " I 
 shall not die with this illness." She seemed surprised 
 that I should answer so positivel}', and without hesitation ; 
 and then queried how I knew that. "For," said she, 
 '^you told me, about an hour ago, that you did not know 
 whether life or death would be your lot at this time." I 
 then gave her an account of the circumstances just re- 
 lated; which satisfied her respecting my confident an- 
 swer. She was filled with joy, and thankful acknow- 
 ledgement to the Fountain of all Good, that I was re- 
 stored to her, and that he had been so propitious to me 
 as to reveal his will in so clear and indubitable a man- 
 ner. At this time my mother and I were both Presbyte- ' 
 rians ; and continued in that profession several years af- 
 ter this event. 
 
 Being now sensible that my continuance here was re- 
 quired for a longer season, I became very thoughtful, 
 lest I had been mistaken in supposing I had obtained the 
 
28 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 knowledge of my diviue Master's will, respecting my 
 learning the languages, kc, and was brought into a strict 
 examination, whether I was in the way of njy duty in 
 ^making the attempt; for I had now a clearer sight that 
 human learning was insufficient to prepare for the minis- 
 jtry of the Gospel than I had before. Being humbled, 
 and self entirely reduced, I was willing, if I could dis- 
 cover that my attempt was wrong, to acknowledge my 
 fault to him who knoweth all things; repent of my rash- 
 ness; and confess my error ; especially to those to whom 
 I had made known my intentions on the subject. I had 
 told some of my companions that I saw it my duty to ac- 
 quire learning ; and some considerable time before there 
 was any probability of it, I had gone so far as to say that 
 I should obtain it. If, therefore, I had been mistaken, 
 there was now great need of my knowing it, and making 
 proper acknowledgments on every hand ; and to be more 
 careful in future, not too easily to take anything for 
 granted, and then report it as a certainty. Puring 
 this sickness, which continued about three weeks, I earn- 
 estly desired that I might receive wisdom, to direct me 
 in a way acceptable to the Lord ; and although I had a 
 strong desire for the acquisition of knowledge, yet I was 
 willing to submit to the disposing hand of Providence ; 
 and durst not ask for]anything but with entire submission 
 to the Divine will ; being sensible that if I obtained it 
 in any other disposition, a blessing would not attend it. 
 At length, being on the recovery, and very much exercised 
 in mind on the subject, I had, one morning, as I lay in 
 bod, such a clear manifestation of the Divine will thereon, 
 as left no doubts on my mind respecting the course T 
 ought to pursue ; and so I proceeded to prepare for ad- 
 mission into college. 
 
 After this I soon recovered and went to the teacher at 
 Danby, of whom I had heard so good a character, as be- 
 fore mentioned. I was well satisfied with him, as I 
 believe he was with me. He was a religious, tender spi- 
 rited man ; and, I believe, '' a lover of good men," in 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 29 
 
 the apostle's sense. After I h.ad been with him some 
 time, one of his congregation said to him, " I understand 
 you have a heretic with you, prepariiif]; for admission into 
 college. '^ He replied, " I wish all my congregation 
 where such heretics as he is." To which his neighbor 
 made no reply. Tliis he told me himself soon after it oc- 
 curred. I stayed with him six months, when his other 
 scholars left him ; and as it did not suit him to attend 
 on me alone, I went to one llobert Trett, at New-Mil- 
 ford, and spent about six months with him j when he 
 thought me sufficiently learned for admission into col- 
 lege. Accordingly I went there, passed an examination 
 in relation to my learning, and was admitted without any 
 mention of heresy. 
 
 After my admission I endeavored to keep humble and 
 to live in the Lord's fear, so as to be a pattern of lowli- 
 ness of mind. I was desirous to be serviceable to man- 
 kind, and endeavored to keep to that which alone could 
 qualify for it. 
 
 Here I think proper to remark, that in one respect I 
 was apt to err, until experience taught me better. This 
 was in talking too much about religion in my own Avill 
 and time. At length I found it tended to poverty; and 
 I learned, when in company, not to be forward to enter 
 into any discourse concerning religion, or any other sub- 
 ject; but to be content to keep silence and be esteemed a 
 fool; until Truth arose, a subject clearly presented, and 
 liberty was given for conversation. Then I found a quali- 
 fication to speak to the edification of others, and my own 
 peace and satisfaction. I mention this for the benefit of 
 others ; being convinced that many who have had expe- 
 rience of the Truth, and have in some degree witnessed 
 a change of heart, have talked so much on religious sub- 
 jects, that their souls have become barren ; so as scarcely 
 to know when good cometh. 
 
 Now, as I dwelt under a humble sense of my own no- 
 thingness, and sought for the direction of Truth, 1 found 
 the Lord to be near by his Spirit, to instruct me in all 
 3* 
 
30 MEMOmS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 things necessary to be known ; which were clearly mani- 
 fested from time to time, as I was able to bear them. 
 
 At my entrance into college my principles generally 
 corresponded with those held by the Presbyterians. But 
 I now began to think it was time to examine for myself, 
 and no longer trust in the judgment of my forefathers. 
 I found it necessary to subject my principles and practices 
 to a strict scrutiny, because I began to be doubtful of 
 ^some of them. But I was convinced that, as a rational 
 creature, simply considered, without a divine instructor, 
 I was not competent to the undertaking. I clearly per- 
 ceived that all right understanding in spiritual concerns 
 must proceed from the immediate revelation of the Holy 
 Spirit, and that we could not come to the knowledge of 
 Jjrod, nor of any thing relating to his kingdom, without it. 
 
 This belief was very different from that held by the 
 people I made profession with, so that I had no assistance 
 from them. On the contrary, their conversation, their 
 preaching and their books were against me. I had no 
 outward help but the Bible, and that I could not under- 
 stand without Divine assistance. There were no people 
 with whom I was acquainted who believed in the light of 
 Christ within as I did ; so that I had none to look to for 
 instruction, in any difficulty, but to Him. But being very 
 desirous to know the truth in all things, I made applica- 
 tion to Him who I believe to be the only teacher of his 
 people ; and as I waited upon him for instruction, my un- 
 derstanding was gradually enlightened, so as to perceive 
 many errors in my former creed, and to discover the truth 
 in opposition to the doctrines of my education. 
 
 That which stood most in my way, and appeared to be 
 a grievous hardship to mankind, as well as a great dis- 
 honor to a just and righteous God, was their uncondi- 
 tional election and reprobation ; which would, according 
 to their apprehension of it, shut out the chief part of 
 mankind from all hope of mercy ; as they believed they 
 were the Lord's only people, and that but few of others 
 were within the pale of election. Yet I believe there 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 31 
 
 were some aiuongst them who had a more extensive cha- 
 rity. I was much concerned on this subject ; and being 
 earnestly desirous to discover the truth, it pleased the "* 
 Lord to open my understanding clearly to perceive the 
 error of this doctrine ; and I was enabled to believe that 
 Christ, who ''gave himself a ransom for all," would ''have 
 all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of thcj 
 truth.'' 
 
 I rejoiced in this discovery ; and when I was fully con- 
 vinced of my former error on this subject, I proposed, for 
 the consideration of one of my fellow students, whether 
 we had not been mistaken in that point of belief We 
 reasoned on the question many times, until he vi^as almost 
 convinced that we had been in error on this subject. He 
 did not then know that my sentiments were different 
 from his own, but supposed that I proposed the question 
 only for the sake of argument, and to hear what could be 
 said for and agaiinst it. I purposely hid my real belief 
 from him, apprehending it not prudent at that time to 
 discover my genuine sentiments. 
 
 By the time we were willing to close the debate on that 
 subject I had something new to propose, and as strange 
 as new to my opponent. When we were at leisure from 
 our studies, we entered into debate upon it ; and so, from 
 time to time, we reasoned the point till we were willing 
 to leave it. Thus, as things opened to my view, and my 
 mind became clear in any point of doctrine in opposition 
 to my former belief, I proposed it for his consideration ; 
 and so we reasoned upon it as long as we thought expe- 
 dient. Thus we proceeded from time to time, debating 
 on divers points of doctrine, until my opponent was partly 
 convinced of the truths I advanced, and became satisfied 
 that I believed in the doctrines I produced for his con- 
 sideration. But as I thought it not a proper time to 
 make my opinions public, I advised him not to expose 
 them at present ; to which he consented. We spent our 
 leisure time, for two or three years, in discussing religious 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 subjects, new to Lira, and I but recently convinced of 
 the truth of them, 
 
 I had before this period heard of a people called 
 Quakers, but was unacquainted with any of them. As I 
 had never seen any of their writings, I knew not what 
 doctrines they held, but ascribe all my knowledge in di- 
 vine things to the inward manifestations of grace and 
 truth, the teaching of the Holy Spirit. It was Christ, 
 the light of the world, the life of men, who opened to me 
 the scriptures, and gave me a discerning of their mean- 
 ing ; and as I was faithful and obedient to the pointings 
 of Truth, I was favored with further and clearer discove- 
 ries thereof. In this state I felt desirous that others 
 should come to be acquainted with it, and continued to 
 give to my fellow student aforementioned my views on the 
 various subjects that presented. ^Ye reasoned on them, 
 as they were brought under consideration, until we had 
 discussed the principal disputable points of doctrine. I 
 do not remember that we omitted any thing that Robert 
 Barclay had treated as a doctrinal point, although, at 
 that time, I had not seen any of his writings, nor ever 
 heard of them as I remember. 
 
 I have mentioned these things to show that, according to 
 Christ's declaration, ^'If any man will do his will he shall 
 know of the doctrine, whether it be of God ;"* and that 
 ^' we need not that any man teach us, but as the anointing 
 teacheth us of all things. "f 
 
 Though we had debated all those points as before re- 
 lated, yet, at leisure hours, we again discussed them, and 
 became much of one sentiment on the various subjects, 
 as will appear when I come to relate the. particulars of 
 our final separation. 
 
 By this time I had some view of a fiilse ministry and 
 a false worship, which had been introduced into almost 
 all the churches of professing Christians with which I was 
 acquainted ; but my sight in these two particulars was not 
 
 * John vii. 17. f 1 John ii. 27. 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 33 
 
 SO clear as it was in many others which we had debated. 
 Although I perceived a defect in the mioistry, yet I did 
 not then see that it was altogether wrong, nor did I then 
 know that it was wholly of the " letter that killeth ;" but 
 afterwards I obtained a clearer sight and knowledge 
 thereof. At this time I thought as a child and understood 
 as a child, with regard to these subjects. And this was 
 also my state respecting divine worship. I did not clearly 
 perceive that all worship performed in the will of the 
 creature, and without the immediate assistance of the 
 Holy Spirit, was truly will-worship and idolatry. But in 
 process of time I clearly perceived that this was the case. 
 After our minds were satisfied on these points, I first met 
 with Barclay's Apology. But I must now leave my class- 
 mate and our discussions and go back a little). 
 
 When I had been at college about a year, the rector,"i 
 or chief ruler, sent for me to his house, in order to con- 
 verse with me concerning those reports that had been 
 circulated of my being a heretic. After I had, at his re- 
 quest, seated myself by him, he told me he had a desire 
 to hear, from my own inouth, an account of my state, 
 adding, that it was not from any dissatisfaction in his 
 own mind concerning me, for he was well pleased with 
 my conduct since I became one of iheir members ; that 
 he believed the reports were chiefly owing to misappre- 
 hension, ignorance and ill-will ; and that he wished to 
 know from me the grounds of it. This was the substance 
 of his communication. I replied, that if he would be 
 pleased to have patience with me, I would give him a 
 plain account, and be as brief as I well might, to be in- 
 telligible. I gave him a relation of my first setting out 
 on my religious journey ; of my travels, exercises and ex- 
 perience to that day, which took up about an hour and a 
 half, as I supposed. He was all this time very quiet and 
 attentive, not giving me the least interruption. I thought 
 he listened with much satisfaction. When I had con- 
 cluded we sat silent for some time. He seemed to be sOj 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 mucli affected that be could not easily speak. After re- 
 covering, he said, " Ferris, I bless God for giving you 
 eyes to see what you see." He said nothing more to me, 
 except just to inform me that be was well satisfied with 
 that opportunity, and so dismissed me. 
 
 I do not know that I concealed from him any of the 
 principles I held at the time referred to, when I was 
 called a heretic ; but I did not unfold to him all my views 
 at the time I was speaking, being sensible he could not 
 bear it. He was a sincere professor and a lover of good 
 men, and afterwards showed a kind regard for me ; say- 
 ing more in my favor than I apprehended I deserved, al- 
 though not more than he believed to be true. And this 
 was the case with many others whose expectations of my 
 future usefulness had by some means been raised ; in con- 
 sequence of whicb I was much esteemed by the m.ost 
 worthy class of people ; but being kept humble and low 
 in my mind, and seeing my own weakness and infirmity, 
 I was preserved from the snares of popularity, although 
 they made my trials the greater, as will appear in the proper 
 place. 
 
 After this interview with the rector I resumed my 
 studies, which I pursued with diligence, being desirous to 
 be found in the way of my duty in every respect, that a 
 blessing might attend my undertaking. I was careful of 
 my thoughts, words and actions, endeavoring to be ex- 
 emplary and serviceable to all about me. 
 
 I now became increasingly thoughtful on religious sub- 
 jects. The doctrines I had been taught, and the way of 
 worship in which I had been educated, were subjects of 
 anxious concern. I was desirous to ascertain whether 
 they would bear a strict scrutiny. On trial I found them 
 defective ; and hence arose the many debates I had with 
 my class-mate, as before related. 
 
 About the middle of the last year of my residence at 
 the college, I met with Barclay's Apology ; and after 
 reading it I let my class-mate also peruse it, with whom 
 I had before discussed the doctrines there treated of. He 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 35 
 
 read the ^ork attentively, and made little or no objection 
 to it, but told me Barclay's arguments were unanswerable. 
 Several other thoughtful scholars, to whom I lent the 
 book, after they had read it, made the same acknowledge- 
 ment, with very little objection or opposition to the rea- 
 soning of its author. 
 
 I continued at the college until near the time for taking 
 my degrees ; and being convinced of the errors of my edu- 
 cation relating to the doctrines we held and the worship 
 we performed, I apprehended it was time to consider what 
 was best for me to do ; and being favored to see that a 
 qualification or commission derived from man was not 
 sufficient for the gospel ministry, I concluded not to take 
 their degrees, nor depend upon their authority. 
 
 Although I agreed with Barclay on doctrinal subjects, 
 yet I knew not that I could join with the Quakers, or 
 any other people with which I was acquainted. 1 still 
 continued a member of the Presbyterian society, attended 
 their meetings, and partook of their bread and wine. But 
 I was not free to sing with them, not having been, for 
 some time before, in a condition to sing ; besides, it did^ 
 not appear to me an acceptable sacrifice, or any thing like 
 divine worship, for a mixed multitude to sing that of 
 which they knew nothing by experience. My exercisej 
 of mind daily increased; for now the time was near at 
 hand in which I must leave them. This was a day of 
 trial ; for, although at the commencement of my religious 
 progress, I had forsaken all the youthful delights and 
 vanities with which I had been diverted, and had been 
 enabled to trample them all under my feet, expecting 
 never again to encounter sucb difficulties; yet, now I 
 found that self was not sufficiently mortified in me. To^ 
 be brought down from the pinnacle of honor; to be es- 
 teemed a fool ; to be trampled under foot by high and low, 
 rich and poor, learned and unlearned, was hard to bear^i 
 As I observed before, I had been much esteemed, though, 
 as I was sensible, more than I deserved. I knew the 
 people had undue expectations of my future usefulness,j 
 
86 MEMOIRS or DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 and that if I left the college, as I thought it my duty to 
 do, my credit would sink, and my honors be laid in the 
 dust ; and then, instead of being caressed and exalted, I 
 must be neglected and despised. 
 
 But I had other difficulties to encounter. My father 
 looked forward with hope that I would be an honor to 
 him and his family. He had promised to set me out in 
 the world in the best manner his circumstances would 
 admit. I knew, that if T were obedient to my convictions 
 of duty, he would regard it as a disgrace to my family 
 and connexions; and would be more likely to turn me 
 out of his house, than in any way to assist me. Besides, 
 I had heard of a vacancy for a minister, and that the 
 people were waiting for me to occupy it. The congrega- 
 tion was numerous ; a larger salary was offered than any 
 I knew of in that part of the country ; and I was informed 
 that the rulers of the college had been consulted on the 
 occasion. 
 
 Here, if I complied with my sense of duty, I must 
 '' take up the cross," and turn out naked into the world, 
 for I had very little property of my own, none to expect 
 from my father, and no salary to support me. 3Iany 
 would regard me as the off-scouring of all things, fit for 
 nothing, 
 
 I labored under a lively sense of all these difficulties. 
 Poverty and disgrace stared me in the face ; and, as I 
 had none but the Lord to whom I could make known my 
 distress and discouragements ; nor any other of whom to 
 ask counsel; I cried to him incessantly for wisdom, 
 strength and fortitude ; that I might be favored with a 
 clear discovery of my duty, and enabled faithfully to obey 
 him in all things. 
 
 At this time, my trials and difficulties were so numer- 
 ous, that I was ready to conclude with Job. that T should 
 *'die in my nest." I feared I should never be able to 
 resign all my interest, honor and credit in the world; 
 submit to a state of poverty ; and incur the disgrace of a 
 reputed heretic! These difficulties were presented to my 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 37 
 
 \iew, and magnified to the highest degree that any one 
 can imagine. In the height of my distress I entered my 
 closet or study, and thus poured out my complaint before 
 the Lord : "0 Lord ! I know not what to do, in this day 
 of deep distress and anxiety of soul. I am not sulh- 
 ciently clear respecting my duty in the undertaking and 
 execution of an affair of so much importance. All that 
 I have in this world that is valuable, and my everlasting 
 happiness also, is now at stake." 
 
 My present situation appeared so important, that if I 
 mistook my course, and took a wrong direction, all might 
 be lost forever. If I should be led by a spirit of error 
 and confusion, I might offend my Maker and my fellow- 
 creatures; forever remain in a dark wilderness ; and never 
 be restored to favor with God or good men. 
 
 Darkness prevailed over me so far at that time, that I 
 seemed to be placed in the situation of John the Baptist, 
 when he sent two of his disciples to inquire of Christ, 
 *' Art thou he that should come, or look we for another ? " 
 — I was almost ready to despair, and to conclude that I 
 was altogether wrong in proposing to take a step so con- 
 trary to reason, as this now appeared to be. Thus I 
 poured forth my complaint, and mourned before the Lord. 
 I had none to depend upon but him, nor any other of 
 whom to ask counsel in my distressed circumstances. My 
 dependance was wholly on him for wisdom and direction, 
 in this trying and afflicting situation. 
 
 It is difficult to conceive, and not in my power to express, 
 the anxiety of my mind in this proving season ; for every 
 thing valuable seemed in danger of being totally lost. 
 Nevertheless, I cried to the Lord for help; and covenanted 
 with him, that if he would be pleased to direct me in the 
 way which would be safe for me to pursue, manifest bis 
 will therein, and afford me assistance to perform my 
 duties, I would resign all to his disposal; obey his will; 
 no longer reason with flesh and blood; but trust lo his 
 providence for support and credit in the world ; and for 
 everythinG: else he might deem best and most convenient 
 4 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 for me. For I was row clearly convinced, that if I did 
 not resign everythino;, when it was evidently manifested 
 to be my duty, I had nothing to expect but death, as to 
 my spiritual condition. 
 
 Whilst T was thus bemoaning my condition before the 
 Lord ; waiting upon him for direction, with ardent prayers 
 for his assistance and wisdom to guide me in the right 
 way, he was graciously pleased to show me that he was 
 about to bring the church out of the wilderness, or wan- 
 dering state in which she had long been destitute of the 
 true leader. And he made it clearly known to me that 
 it was his will I should go forth, and be an instrument 
 in his hand for the accomplishment of this design. 
 
 As soon as I was satisfied on these points, I reasoned 
 not with flesh and blood, but immediately gave up to the 
 heavenly vision. I then went to the chief ruler of the 
 college, and obtained his permission to go home; but I 
 told no one my reasons for this procedure. 
 
 This was a trying time. I was about to take an im- 
 portant step. Like Gideon, I was desirous to *' turn the 
 fleece ; to wait in retirement for wisdom, maturely to 
 consider this weighty undertaking, which now pressed 
 heavily on my mind. After staying at home about three 
 weeks, the will of my divine Master, relating to my re- 
 moval from college, was satisfactorily manifested. With- 
 out making known my purpose, I returned to the college 
 and settled my afl"airs, in order to leave it. Whilst I 
 was preparing to depart, a report was spread among the 
 scholars that I was turned Quaker, and was going to 
 leave them. Yet I did not hear that any of them ut- 
 tered a hard or railing word against me. The rector, 
 Elisha Williams, took an opportunity to converse with 
 me. He was very moderate, but said he was sorry for 
 my conclusion ; that, heretofore, he had entertained a 
 good opinion of me, and an expectation that I would be 
 useful in my day; but now his hopes were in great 
 measure frustrated. We had much converjiation on the 
 subject; he signified he did not give me up for lost. He 
 appeared serious, and we parted good friends. 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 39 
 
 As the time for my departure drew near, being wholly 
 resigned to the Lord's will, the cloud was removed from 
 my tabernacle ; my sight was clear ; my courage re- 
 turned ; and the mountains, whose tops so lately ap- 
 peared to reach the clouds, where all laid as level as a 
 plain ; the sea was driven back ; so that there was noth- 
 ing to interrupt my passage. I went over all, as on dry 
 land, and not a dog was suiFered to move a tongue against 
 me. Then was my soul filled with living praise; thanks- 
 giving and rejoicing in the Lord ; who had triumphed 
 gloriously. He was my strength, my song, and my sal- 
 vation. The deeps covered my enemies ; they sank to 
 the bottom as a stone. The right hand of the Lord was 
 glorious in power ; and I sang his praises ; for he was 
 worthy ; having done great things for me. 
 
 Before I left college I told the rector of my intentions, 
 and that I did not know that I should return; but if I 
 should change my mind, and wish to take a degree, if it 
 would be permitted, perhaps I might come back for that 
 purpose : if I should conclude not to return, I would 
 write to him and give him my reasons for such conclu- 
 sion. He replied, and told me I should be welcome to a 
 degree ; and that it would give them pleasure to grant 
 me one. 
 
 While I was preparing for my journey, my class-mate, 
 before mentioned, being desirous to ride one day with me, 
 obtained permission. The rector told him, that I might, 
 perhaps, instil bad principles into him, and lead him 
 astray. To which my friend replied, " I have lived a 
 great part of the time since I came to the college with 
 him, and I believe he has done me no harm ; but contra- 
 riwise." Then, having bidden them all farewell, we de- 
 parted. 
 
 I thought it a favor that one of my fellows who was in 
 good credit, and esteemed none of the least in the college, 
 should be willing so far to take up the cross, as to ac- 
 company me, who was deemed a heretic, a Quaker, or 
 they knew not what ; but feeling a degree of lovo for 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF DAYID FERRIS. 
 
 me, it made him fearless of shame or any disgrace that 
 might ensue. 
 
 As we rode along, we discussed all the doctrines which 
 we had formerly debated ; and he appeared almost as 
 much convinced of the truth of my sentiments as I was. 
 Near night, when we were about to separate, he said, 
 " Ferris, I believe you are right in leaving the college. I 
 believe your principles are sound and good ; but I do not 
 see, at present, that I am called to do as you have done. 
 If, at any time hereafter, I should see it to be my duty 
 to follow your example, I purpose to have no will of my 
 own ; but submit and obey the will of my Master." We 
 bade each other farewell, and I saw him no more; but I 
 afterwards heard that to follow my example was a cross 
 too heavy for him to bear. He took to preaching for a 
 living among the Presbyterians ; and never left them to 
 my knowledge. 
 
 After I had parted with my companion, I went on to 
 New-Milford, where my parents and relations resided. 
 About three weeks afterwards, I went to a Yearly Meeting 
 of the people called Quakers, or Long- Island ; in order 
 to discover whether they were a living people or not ; for 
 a living people I wished to find. I had thought for seve- 
 ral years before that there ought to be such a people ; a 
 people who had life in them, and abounded in love to 
 each other, as did the primitive Christians ; a people who 
 knew they had passed from death unto life, by their love 
 to the brethren. Here I gathered strength, and was 
 more confirmed that I was right in leaving the college ; 
 for I found a living, humble, heavenly minded people ; 
 full of love and good works ; such a one as I had never 
 seen before. I rejoiced to find that which I had been 
 seeking; and soon owned them to be the Lord's people; 
 the trne church of Christ; according to his own descrip- 
 tion of it ; where he says, " By this shall all men know 
 that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another." I also 
 fouHd they held and believed the same doctrines, the 
 truth of which had been manifested to me immediately 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 41 
 
 by the Holy Spirit, lieinpj the same that llobert Bur- 
 clay had laid down and well defended in his Apolo<;y. 
 Before I had read this work, I did not know there was a 
 people on earth who believed and lived in the truth, as 
 described by Barclay ; but here I found a numerous so- 
 ciety who held the same truths, and lived an humble, 
 self-denyiug life ; becoming the character of Christians. 
 I was indubitably satistied that their worship was in spi- 
 rit and in truth ; and they such worshipers as the Father 
 sought and owned. I was convinced, beyond a doubt, 
 that they preached the gospel in the demonstration of the 
 spirit ; and divine authority was felt to attend their min- 
 istry. They were not like the scribes, to whom I hud 
 been listening all my life ; who had neither commission 
 nor authority, except that which was received from man ; 
 being such as the Lord never sent ; and therefore could 
 not proSt the people they professed to teach. I now clearly 
 saw the difference between man-made ministers, and those 
 whom the Lord qualifies and sends into his harvest field; 
 the difiference between the wheat and the chaff; and it 
 was marvellous to me, to reflect how long I had sat under a 
 formal, dry and lifeless ministry. 
 
 At the meeting before mentioned, there were several 
 eminent ministers from Europe, both male and female. I 
 there heard women preach the gospel, in the divine au- 
 thority of Truth ; far exceeding all the learned rabbies I 
 had known. This was not so strange to me as it might 
 have been to others; fori had before seen, by the im-J 
 mediate manifestation of grace and truth, that women, 
 as well as men, might be clothed with gospel power ; and 
 that daughters as well as sons, under the gospel dispensa- 
 tion, were to have the spirit poured upon them, that they 
 might prophecy ; and though I had never before heard a 
 woman preach, yet I now rejoiced to see the prophecy 
 fulfilled. 
 
 After I returned home from the yearly meeting, I wrote 
 a letter to the Hector of the college, informing him that I 
 had determined not to return ; and that I could not, with 
 4* 
 
42 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 freedom, take any authority that man could give. I also 
 informed him, that since I left them, I had heard women 
 preach the gospel far better than any learned man I had 
 ever heard. 
 
 Having now left the college, and separated myself from 
 the people with whom I had been educated, I saw great 
 cause of thankfulness to the Author of all good, who had 
 revealed to me the errors of my youth, and the falsity of 
 the doctrines imbibed in my education ; who had made 
 known to me his truth and people, so that I had no doubts 
 remaining. It now became my principle concern that I 
 might be enabled to walk in the truth, and witness the 
 Holy Spirit to lead me on my way. 
 
 In this state I admired the boundless goodness, the 
 infinite kindness and tender mercy of a gracious God, in 
 effecting my late deliverance ; especially when I considered 
 how tempestuous were the seas, and how the billows 
 rolled over me; how the mountains of opposition raised 
 their lofty heads to stop my passage ; and again, in a short 
 time, how the winds and seas were hushed and still ; and 
 how the mountains became a perfect plain ! I truly found 
 as great cause to sing upon the banks of deliverance, as 
 Israel did of old, when they had passed through the sea 
 on dry ground, and had turned about and seen their ene- 
 mies dead on the shore. I rejoiced in the Lord and sang 
 praises to Him, who for me had done marvellous things ; 
 who had made me acquainted with his blessed Truth, and 
 at length gave me ability to trample the world, and all 
 its riches, honors and pleasures, under my feet ; to sub- 
 mit to the cross of Christ, and be willing to be accounted 
 a fool of all men. For which favors I felt myself under 
 great obligations to my gracious Benefactor. 
 
 I will now return to a former part of my narrative, and 
 give some account of my reception by my relatives. After 
 I had parted with my class-mate, on my way home from 
 college, I heard that ray father had received iutelligence 
 of my intentions, and was much dissatisfied with my pro- 
 ceedings, saying, " If the accounts I have heard be true, 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 43 
 
 I desire he may never come to my house again." Being 
 thus informed, I went to my brother's. After some days 
 I went to see my father. He would not speak to me; 
 but turned and passed away without taking notice of me. 
 In a few days afterwards I went a second time; but he 
 still refused to speak to me. After a few days I went 
 the third time, and met him at the door, and asked after 
 his health, at the same time pulling off my hat, (for at 
 that time I was not convinced of the necessity of bearing 
 a testimony against hat-honor ;) he replied, he was not 
 very well, and passed away. I then went into the house, 
 and my ftither returning, we sat down and entered into 
 conversation. He said he had heard I had left the college 
 and turned Quaker. In reply, I told him it had been 
 my endeavor, for some years past, to follow my divine 
 Leader, and that I still endeavored to attend to the same 
 Guide, and follow whithersoever he might lead me ; that 
 I apprehended he had led me to leave the college, and for- 
 sake the way of my education ; and it was possible that 
 the same Guide might some time lead me to join the 
 people called Quakers ; but that, as yet, I knew but little 
 of them. After some time spent in conversation of this 
 kind, my father queried wliat need there was to forsake 
 the way of my education ; " for/' said he, " the Lord has 
 favored you, and been with you in the Presbyterian way; 
 so that if you continue to fear and serve him in that way, 
 you may do well, and will, no doubt, end in peace." I 
 answered, it was true I had been much favored under my 
 former profession ; the Lord had been near me, and his 
 living presence with me. He had led and guided me by 
 his good Spirit, and had revealed his will to me far be- 
 yond any thing I had deserved, or could have expected ; 
 and I still desired to follow that Teacher who had never 
 led me astray, but had brought me, step by step, from one 
 degree of experience to another, until I was obliged to 
 leave the college, and bear a testimony against the for- 
 mal profession I had made ; and thus he had led me to 
 the present time. 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 Thus we conversed for some hours; my father raising 
 objections to the Quakers, and my joining with them. 
 But, through divine assistance, (with which I think I 
 was favored,) I was enabled fully to answer all his objec- 
 tions, so that he was willing to leave the subject, and 
 became moderate, and apparently more easy in his mind. 
 From that time, during the remainder of his life, although 
 he had many opportunities, he never entered into any 
 arguments with me on religious subjects, but was always 
 kind and affectionate. I thought he concluded I might 
 do well in the way he found me, and so remained satis- 
 fied. 
 
 After I had been some time at home, new objections 
 arose in my mind against a compliance with the customs 
 of those among whom I resided ; such as bowing and 
 scraping ; putting off the hat ; saying, " your servant, sir, 
 madam," &c., and against using the ungrammatical, cor- 
 rupt language of " you " to a single person. Although, 
 in past years, I had known various exercises, and thought 
 I had learned many hard lessons, yet I found much in me 
 that required mortification, and that I yet had many 
 things to learn. To refuse the use of the plural language 
 to a single person, although it seemed a small matter, yet 
 I found it hard to submit to it. I was convinced that 
 the common mode of speaking in the plural number to a 
 single person, was a violation of the rules of grammar, 
 and unscriptural. I also believed the pride of man had 
 introduced the custom, yet I thought it was not necessary 
 to make myself ridiculous to all about me for a matter of 
 so small importance. So long, therefore, as no necessity 
 was laid upon me to take up the cross in that respect, I 
 continued to use the language of my education. Yet I 
 used compliments sparingly, because the disuse of them 
 was not so observable. However, it was not long before 
 I found it my duty to say " thee " and " thou " to every 
 individual. Nevertheless, I found an inclination or 
 temptation so to turn the conversation as to shun this 
 mode of speech ; yet this did not afford peace. Small as 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 45 
 
 tho matter appcare(1, I could not be easy without being 
 entirely faithful in every respect; and my duty in this 
 particular being clearly manifested, I reasoned no longer 
 with flesh and blood, but submitterl to the requiring. It 
 was a rule with mc to do nothing of this kind by imita- 
 tion ; but, when any thing was required of me, to submit; 
 and thus I obtained peace. 
 
 About this time, several scholars coming from the col- 
 lege, invited me to accompany them on a visit to the 
 minister in our settlement ; and accordingly I went with 
 them. We walked with our hats under our arms, and so 
 entered the house. Just as we were about to depart, I 
 was required to bear a testimony against the hat-honor. 
 So I rose put on my hat, went to the priest, and bade him 
 farewell, without putting my hand to it or bowing my 
 body. This being the first time I had refused these 
 compliments, it was a close trial ; and it appeared re- 
 markable that it should be required of me at such a time 
 and in such a company ; but neither the priest nor my 
 companions took notice of it, so as to make any remark. 
 My obedience afforded me great peace ; and by yielding 
 to these inward motions of the sure Guide in small things, 
 T gained strength, and was more and more confirmed that 
 I was right in making such a change. 
 
 I now began to lay aside some of tho superfluities of 
 my dress, and to appear like a Qu;iker; believing it was 
 required of me not to hide myself in any respect, but 
 boldly to bear a testimony to the truth, so far as it was 
 clearly manifested to me. I did not then wonder that 
 people admired at our folly (as they think it to be) in 
 making ourselves a laughing-stock and by-word, by our 
 singularities ; because, so it appeared to me but a short 
 time before I was obliged to submit to it. I loved the 
 honor and esteem of men as well as others, and would 
 have enjoyed it, if I could have had it with peace of 
 mind ; but that is not allowed in the school of Christ, 
 where nothing will do without self-denial and taking up 
 the daily cross ; and if, on our part, there be a full sub- 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 mission in every respect, I can say from experience, that 
 our peace will flow as a river. 
 
 Having left the college without taking a degree, it was 
 probable I should have no salary to depend on for sub- 
 sistence. I had disobliged my father, and of course had 
 nothing to expect from him, and I had but little of my 
 own to support me. And now, being come to the twenty- 
 fifth year of my age, I began to think it necessary to use 
 some endeavors to obtain a livelihood. I had for several 
 years before this period thought I should go to reside in 
 Pennsylvania; and this prospect now opened so clearly, 
 that I was inclined to believe it was my duty to go there. 
 I according made ready and went, in company with three 
 ministering friends from Europe, then on a religious visit 
 to America. We arrived in Philadelphia about the middle 
 of the Sixth month, 1733. 
 
 Here ends that part of my narrative which was written 
 in my youth in the Latin language. 
 
 As I observed before, I arrived in Philadelphia in 1733. 
 I concluded that if I could establish myself in business 
 that would be likely to answer, I would, for some time, 
 make the city my residence. After the Yearly Meeting 
 was over, and I had become a little acquainted with 
 Friends, and known among them, I proposed to open a 
 school, to teach the Latin and Greek languages. But, 
 as I was a stranger, and those children that were intended 
 to be taught these languages were mostly entered in other 
 schools, I was doubtful whether I should be able to get a 
 sufficient number of such scholars. I therefore agreed to 
 teach English also; aud, in time, I had a school, of both 
 sexes, sufficiently large for my support. 
 
 Being a stranger, I ^consequently met with trials and 
 difficulties. For a while my school was small and not 
 likely to support me; but I endeavored to be resigned, 
 and repose with confidence in an all-sufficient Providence, 
 from whom I had often received help in times of great 
 trial. My difficulties were increased by the low state of 
 my funds. The weather was now beginning to grow 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 47 
 
 cold. It was customary for the teacher to find wood for 
 fuel, and for the scholars to pay a proportion of the ex- 
 pense when they paid for their quarter's tuition ; and as I 
 had but few scholars, and no money yet due, and not two 
 shillings of my own remaining, I was very thoughtful 
 how to procure wood. No one knew the state of my 
 purse, nor did I desire to make it known ; and this I 
 should do if I attempted to borrow. I therefore omitted 
 to buy as long as I well could. I did not like to ask for 
 credit, and if I did, it was doubtful whether I should ob- 
 tain it ; so that I was closely tried. But, while I was 
 under this exercise, the weather was more moderate than 
 usual at that season. After I had been suflGciently tried, 
 to prove my faith and confidence in divine Providence, a 
 Friend came into my school and privately gave me twenty 
 shillings,* which, he said, had been sent by a Friend, 
 who did not wish to be known as the donor. For this 
 unexpected favor I was thankful to the Lord, whose mer- 
 cies endure forever. Having now the means, I soon pur- 
 chased some wood ; and the weather, in a short time, 
 becoming colder, I had a renewed sense of the kindness 
 of Providence, who had so seasonably relieved me. But 
 afterwards, when my stock of wood was nearly exhausted, 
 I was brought into the same difficulty and trial as before, 
 and as much needed a renewal of my faith. 1 strove to 
 be quiet, and to have my dependence placed on Him who 
 fed a great multitude with a few loaves and little fishes; 
 and just as I began to suff'er, another twenty shilling bill 
 was privately presented to me by an unknown hand ; but 
 I received it as coming from the Lord, who knew all ray 
 difficulties. 
 
 Thus was I again relieved; and never, afterwards, re- 
 ceived anything more in this way ; nor did I ever need 
 it ; as I was sufficiently supplied by the proceeds of my 
 business. This was a confirmation to me, that I had been 
 
 * Twenty shillings, in 1733, would probably be equally valu- 
 able with ten dollars in 1825. 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 assisted by a watchful Providence, who knows all states 
 and conditions, both internal and external ; and is able 
 and willing to turn the hearts of his people, and constrain 
 them to help the needy; as, formerly, he sent the ravens 
 to feed the prophet. 
 
 I have made these few remarks for the sake of those 
 who may be in similar circumstances, and stand in need 
 of faith and confidence in the care of divine Providence, 
 over his dependent people ; desiring they may afford them 
 encouragement to put their trust wholly in the Lord, and 
 not faint in the day of inward or outward trials. 
 
 After I had been about six months in Philadelphia, I 
 requested to betaken into membership with Fritmds; 
 and was, accordingly, received. Some time after I had 
 joined the Society, 1 began to think of settling myself, 
 and to marry, when the way should appear without ob- 
 struction ; which was not then the case. I considered 
 marriaye to be the most important concern in this life. 
 *' Marriage," said the apostle, '' is honorable in all." I 
 concluded he meant that it was honoj-ahle to all who mar- 
 ried from pure motives, to the right person, and in the 
 proper way and time, as divine Providence should direct. 
 I believed it best for most men to marry ; and that there 
 was, for each man, one woman that would suit him bet- 
 ter than any other. It appears to me essential that all 
 men should seek for icisdom, and wait for it, to guide 
 them in this important undertaking; because, no man, 
 without divine assistance, is able to discover who is the 
 right person for him to marry ; but the Creator of both 
 can and will direct him. And why, in such an impor- 
 tant concern, should we not seek for counsel, as well as in 
 matters of minor consequence ? There is, moreover, 
 greater d mger of erring in this than in some other con- 
 cerns, from our being too impatient to wait for the point- 
 ings of divine Wisdom; lest by so doing, we might lose 
 some supposed benefit. It is common for young people 
 to think and say, '^ I would not marry such a person; 
 for certain reasons : such as the want of beauty, wit, edu- 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 49 
 
 cation," &c. ; and to affirm that tliey could not love such 
 a one ; but wc may err by an over-hasty conclusion, as 
 well as by any other neglect of our true Guide. 
 
 I now propose to give some hints of my own proceed- 
 ings in this concern. Near the place of my residence 
 there lived a comely young woman, of a good, reputable 
 family; educated in plainness; favored with good natu- 
 ral talents ; and in good circumstances. Every view of 
 the case was favorable to my wishes. 
 
 By some hints I had received, it appeared probable that 
 my addresses would be agreeable to her; and some of my 
 best friends urged the attempt. From inattention to my hea- 
 venly Guide, I took the hint from man ; and following 
 my own inclination, I moved without asking my divine 
 Master's advice. I went to spend an evening with the 
 young woman, if I should find it agreeable when there. 
 She and her mother were sitting together; and no other 
 person present. They received me in a friendly manner ; 
 but I think I had not chatted with them more than half 
 an hour, before I heard something, like a still small 
 voice, saying to me, *' Seekest thou great things for thy- 
 self'/ — seek them not." This language pierced me like 
 a sword to the heart. It so filled me with confusion, 
 that [ was unfit for any further conversation. I endea- 
 vored to conceal my disorder; but soon took my leave, 
 without opening, to either the mother or her daughter, 
 the subject which had led me to visit them. And 1, af- 
 terwards, had substantial reason to think it was well for 
 me that I had f liled in this enterprise. 
 
 I was so confused and benumbed by this adventure, 
 that I did not recover my usual state for several months; 
 though I could not suddenly see that my error was act- 
 ing without permission ; but began to suppose that I 
 should never be suffered to marry ; and r.hould have to 
 pass my life without a companion, or a home. I endea- 
 vored to be resigned to this view; supposing it was the 
 Lord's will ; but, for several months, it was a severe trial. 
 At length 1 was brought to submit, and say " Amen." 
 5 
 
50 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 This simple account of my visit to this young woman, is 
 designed as a warning to others : that they may shun the 
 snare into which I was so near falling. 
 
 I shall now relate another of my movements, with re- 
 spect to marriage, which I believe was a right one; as it 
 terminated to lasting satisfaction. It may appear strange 
 to some ; as if I married in the cross ; and, I suppose, 
 few will be inclined to follow my example. Yet, if the 
 divine Teacher of truth and righteousness be attended 
 to, it may be the lot of some. After I had been much 
 mortified and humbled, under a sense of my former mis- 
 step, I went, one day, to a Friend's house to dine. As 
 I sat at the table, I observed a young woman sitting op- 
 posite to me, whom I did not remember ever to have seen 
 before. My attention, at that time, being otherwise en- 
 gaged, I took very little notice of her; but a language 
 very quietly, and very pleasantly, passed through my 
 mind, on this wise, *' If thou wilt marry that young wo- 
 man, thou shalt be happy with her.'' There was such a 
 degree of divine virtue attending the intimation, that it 
 removed all doubt concerning its origin and Author. I 
 took a view of her, and thought she wms a goodly person ; 
 but, as we moved from the table, I perceived she was 
 lame. The cause of her lameness I knew not ; but was 
 displeased that I should have a cripple allotted to me. It 
 "was clear to me, beyond all doubt, that the language I 
 had heard was from heaven ; but I presumptuously thought 
 I would rather choose for myself. The next day the sub- 
 ject was calmly presented to my mind, like a query, 
 " Why should thou despise her for her lameness ? it may 
 be no fault of hers. Thou art favored with sound limbs, 
 and a capacity for active exertion ; and would it not be 
 kind and benevolent in thee, to bear a part of her infir- 
 mity, and to sympathize with her 1:' She may be affec- 
 tionate and kind to thee ; and thou shalt be liappy in a 
 compliance with thy duty." Notwithstanding all this, I 
 continued to reason against these convictions ; alleging 
 that it was more than I could bear. The enemy of my 
 
MKMOIIIS OF DAVID FERRIS. Oi 
 
 happiness was busily enpiged, in r;iisin<:j ariiuineat.s 
 against a compliance with my duty, suggesting thut it was 
 an unreasonable thing that I should be united to a lame 
 wife ; and that every one who knew me, would admire at 
 my folly.* Thus, from day to day, and week to week, I 
 reasoned against it; until, at length, my kind Benefac- 
 tor, in a loving and benevolent manner, opened to my 
 view, that, if I were left to choose for myself, and to take 
 a wife to please my fancy, she might be an affliction to 
 me all the days of my life ; and lead me astray, so as to 
 endanger my future happiness. Or she might fall into 
 vicious practices ; notwithstanding that, at the time of 
 her marriage, she might be apparently virtuous ; it was, 
 therefore, unsafe to trust to my natural understanding. 
 On the other hand, here was a companion prepared for 
 me by unerring Wisdom ; so that I might rely with 
 safety on the choice. Still I was unwilling to submit. 
 But heavenly kindness followed me, in order to convince 
 me that it would be best to comply, and no longer resist 
 the truth. At length it pleased the Lord, once more, 
 clearly to show me that if I would submit, it should not 
 only tend to my own happiness, but that a blessing shoild 
 rest on my posterity. This was so great a favor, and 
 manifested so much divine regard, that I no longer re- 
 sisted ; but concluded to pay the young woman a visit, and 
 open the subject for consideration ; but, after I had laid 
 my proposition before her, I still had hopes that I might 
 be excused ; and only visited her occasionally. Durinsj 
 this time, for several months, I endured great trials and 
 afflictions, before I was fully resigned. But, after divine 
 Goodness had prevailed over my rebellious nature, all 
 things relating to my marriage wore a pleasant aspect. 
 The young woman appeared beautiful ; and I was pre- 
 pared to receive her as a gift from heaven ; fully as good 
 
 * The author's person was rather uncommonly good, and it is 
 probable he might have thought too highly of personal excel- 
 lence. 
 
'OZ MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 as I deserved. AVe waited about six months for my pa- 
 rents' consent, from New England, (a conveyance by let- 
 ter being at that time difScult to obtain,) and accom- 
 plished our marriage on the thirteenth of the Ninth month, 
 1735, in the city of Philadelphia. 
 
 It is now forty years since we married ; and I can truly 
 say, that I never repented it ; but have always regarded 
 our union as a proof of divine kindness. I am fully sen- 
 sible there was no woman on earth so suitable for me as 
 she was. And all those things which were shown me, as 
 the consequence of my submission, are punctually ful- 
 filled. A blessing has rested on me and on my posterity. 
 I have lived to see my children, arrived to years of un- 
 derstanding, favored with a knowledge of the Truth ; 
 (which is the greatest of all blfssings ;) and some of them, 
 bejond all doubt, are landed in eternal felicity. I have 
 been blessed with plenty ; and, above all, with peace. I 
 am, therefore, satisfied and thankful to my gracious Bene- 
 factor, for his kindness to me in this concern; as well as 
 for all his other favors; who am not deserving of the 
 least of all the mercies and all the truth which he has 
 shown to his unworthy servant. 
 
 I have given this relation, so circumstantially, with a 
 view to show how incapable we are to see things in their 
 true light, until we are truly humbled, and brought into 
 subjection to the divine will ; and how unsafe it is for 
 poor, frail, short-sighted creatures, to reject so vSafe a 
 counsellor, and trust to their own wisdom, in concerns of 
 such importance. Therefore, let all seek that '* vVisdom 
 that cometh from above; which is pure, peaceable, gen- 
 tle, and easy to be entreated." 
 
 Whilst I was proceeding in my concerns relating to 
 marriage, I was also thoughtful concerning the proper 
 place to reside ; and the business I should engage in for 
 support. I had now kept a school nearly four years ; and 
 bad partly concluded to resign that employment, on ac- 
 count of the confinement necessarily attending it ; and 
 having heard of a new settlement, then making in the 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 53 
 
 county of New-Castle, (since called Wilmington,) I was 
 inclined to see it, and thought, if it pleased me, I might 
 perhaps, settle there. It had been a subject of frequent 
 consideration ; but when I mentioned it to my wife, she 
 appeared unwilling to leave riiiladelphia, as she had lived 
 there nearly all her life, and her relations resided in that 
 city. But William Shipley and his wife, from Spring- 
 Held, in Chester county, proposing in a short time, to set- 
 tle in Wilmington, I went with them to see the place. It 
 pleased me so well that I rented a lot of ground there ; 
 and, on my return, told my wife what I had done. She 
 thought we would never make use of it. 
 
 In those days, by various trials, exercises, and afflic-"* 
 tions, I was reduced to a very low state. My natural 
 powers seemed to be so much weakened, that I could not 
 judge what course to take, or how to proceed, in my tem- 
 poral concerns, as I had formerly done ; or as others 
 could do ; so that I saw no way for me to move, with 
 prudence or safety, without immediate direction from the 
 fountain of Wisdom. And, I may say, with humility of 
 heart, and thankfulness to the God of all mercies, as I 
 sought for it, and waited for direction, I sought him not 
 in vain. I waited upon him; not daring to move until 
 he appeared to point out the way ; and he failed not to 
 shosv me what step I should take, and when to take it, in 
 a wonderful manner. It was marvellous in my eyes ; that 
 a poor worm should be thus favored ; and I should not 
 venture to mention how particularly I was led, if I did^ 
 not believe it to be my duty. 
 
 Observing how ignorant and thoughtless mankind are, 
 in general, of a divine instructor, especially in their tem- 
 poral concerns, supposing themselves suflficient to manage 
 the affairs of this life, they do not expect or seek for su- 
 perior intelligence, I feel anxious for an amendment, 
 where we are out of the true order ; and shall now give some 
 hints of my own experience in relation to this subject. 
 
 As before mentioned, I had taken a lot of ground in 
 Wilmington ; but as yet it was not clear to me that it 
 5* 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 •would be best for us to reside there ; and my wife seem- 
 ing unwilling to think of it, great were the trials that at- 
 tended nij mind. 
 
 To move from one place to another, in our own time 
 and will, I believe is a matter of serious consequence. A 
 change of residence appears to me next in in)portance to 
 marriage; and, therefore, requires the same Divine wis- 
 dom to direct us aright. We may be qualified for ser- 
 vice in one place ; and, by removing, to a distance, unless 
 we are directed by unerring counsel, the designs of Pro- 
 vidence respecting us, may be frustrated ; and our use- 
 fulness lessened. 
 
 Under these considerations I was reduced very low in 
 mind : being sensible of my own inability rightly to di> 
 
 r'rect my course. I was full of cares and fears ; and so 
 humbled that I was willing to be or do anything that was 
 pleasing to my dear Master ; so that I might be favored 
 with a knowledge of his will; even if it were to take my 
 axe or spade and labor for the support of my small family. 
 Sometimes it appeared best to move, and again the pros- 
 
 L.pect seemed dark and cloudy. After some months spent 
 in anxious solicitude on this subject, light gradually arose 
 on my mind, and at length, the prospect of removing to 
 the new settlement of which I have spoken, and of keep- 
 ing a store for the sale of goods there, appeared so clear, 
 
 Jhat I applied for a house convenient for this purpose, if 
 I should conclude to remove. Yet, although I had pro- 
 ceeded so far, I was under a daily care lest I should be 
 mistaken, and take a wrong step ; so as to bring a re- 
 proach on the profession of Truth I had made to the 
 
 tworld. 
 
 "While I was under this concern, I was taken ill with 
 the small-pox ; and had it pretty severely. When on 
 the recovery, as I sat by the fire one evening, in company 
 with my wife, I received a letter from the owner of the 
 house, of which 1 had the refusal. He informed me that 
 I must write to him the next morning, and say whether 
 I would take it or not; as another person had deter- 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 55 
 
 miucd to take possession of it. There was no other house 
 in the settlement which would be at all suitable for my 
 intended business. This brought me into a close trial. 
 After I had read the letter to my wife, we sat silent for 
 some time. At length she cheerfully said, *' Well, let 
 us go." Which I rejoiced to hear; although at that time, 
 the prospect was enveloped in darkness. I made her but 
 little reply; and being weak in body, and dark in mind, 
 I retired to bed. After I had lain some some time^ re- 
 volving the difficulties of my situation, with fervent de- 
 sires for divine direction, I went to sleep ; and had a 
 good night's rest; which I had not enjoyed before, du- 
 ring that illness. About the dawn of the day, it seemed' 
 as if I heard a clear and intelligible language, saying to 
 me, " Go and prosper ; fear not ; the cattle on a thou- 
 sand hills are mine ; and I give them to whom I please. 
 Behold ! I will be with thee." Immediately all my 
 doubts vanished ; I saw, with sufficient clearness, that I 
 might go with safety ; and hope for a competent subsist- 
 ence. These circumstances I related to my wife ; andi 
 told her of my prospects ; which afforded her encourage- 
 ment. I then arose, and wrote to the owner of the 
 house ; informing him that I had concluded to take it ; 
 and that I hoped to move at the time proposed. Ac- 
 cordingly I removed to it, with my family, in the Third 
 mouth, 1737 ; taking with me some goods for my store. 
 
 After our removal, the minds of the people, both in 
 town and country, were inclined to deal with us ; and 
 we soon sold the few goods we brought from the city. I 
 then had occasion to think of " the cattle on a thousand 
 hills," with heartfelt gratitude to Him who keepeth cove- 
 nant with his children, and whose mercies fail not. He 
 neither slumbereth nor sleepeth; but his watchful eye 
 regardeth his depending people, as I have ever found. 
 
 I will now give some of my views on the subject of 
 business, lawful for Christians to engage in. Children 
 may be apprenticed to trades which are inconsistent with 
 a Christian profession. For instance, some are taught to 
 
56 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 make instruments of war; which they who believe in the 
 peaceable doctrines of Christ cannot lawfully engage in. 
 There are several other callings which I believe Chris- 
 tians cannot consistently follow. 
 
 It is the duty of those who profess to follow Christ 
 the light of the world, to consider whether the business 
 in which they engage, is agreeable to his will ; and, if 
 a doubt arise respecting its propriety, to ask counsel, and 
 wait for wisdom, to know how to proceed. I was edu- 
 cated under a supposition that human learning was suf- 
 ficient to qualify me to teach people the way to peace 
 and happiness. This was clearly revealed to me to be a 
 mistake ; and I had not the shadow of a doubt, that 
 they who acquired human learning, to qualify them for 
 the gospel ministry, were entirely wrong. In consequence 
 of this conviction, I employed myself in teaching a school ; 
 which I believe was right for me at that time. And 
 when I purposed to enter into another business, being 
 convinced that I ought to ask counsel of the great Coun- 
 sellor, I did not run in my own will, and choose my own 
 ways. I was satisfied, that, as we were blessed with a di- 
 vine Teacher, it was our duty to follow his directions, in 
 temporal, as well as spiritual concerns ; especially in 
 movements of importance. And when I believed it 
 would be right to keep a store, I was desirous that I might 
 proceed in the business under the direction of Him who 
 seemed willing to teach me. Not having served an ap- 
 prenticeship to the mercantile business, I was ignorant of 
 the quality and prices of goods ; it was, therefore, proba- 
 ble I should be under some difficulty in these respects. 
 
 My mind, as I before observed, was reduced to a very 
 low state, so that I felt incapable of conducting my out- 
 ward concerns advantageously, unless b}' divine aid, as 
 the way opened in the light. Our little stock of goods 
 being nearly all sold, my wife reminded me of our need 
 of a fresh supply. I felt no freedom at that time to pro- 
 cure any, though I did not tell her the cause of my de- 
 lay, only saying I expected soon to go to Philadelphia, 
 where we purchased our goods. As I humbly waited for 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 5/ 
 
 wisdom the never fiiiling fountain was opened, Before 
 I rose one morning it appeared clear to me that I niinrht 
 proceed in the business, of which I informed my wife. 
 She was pleased to hear it, knowing the necessity we were 
 under, but admired that I was so tardy in making up my 
 mind to go. Being unacqu-iinted with the merchants, 
 and ignorant of the quality of goods, I felt my need of an 
 instructor, to whom I might safely apply for direction ; 
 and as I looked to my divine Guide, I found to my admi- 
 ration that He was near to help me. When I went into^ 
 a store to make my purchases, I continued to lay off such 
 goods as I thought we wanted, until the way seemed to 
 close at that place, and I felt an openness to proceed to 
 another. I went accordingly, and acted in the same man- 
 ner, as long as I found freedom ; and when the way to 
 go further was wholly closed, I gathered my purchases 
 together, and returned home. Thus I went on from time^ 
 to time, and from year to year. 
 
 Sometimes when my wife would look over the goods 
 I had purchased, she would express a regret that I bought 
 certain articles, which she specified ; fearing that they 
 might not be saleable. I thought otherwise, and we fre- 
 quently found them to sell as well as anything I had 
 bought. "When I kept near to my divine Director, either 
 in my spiritual or temporal concerns, everything pros- 
 pered under my hand. I was brought so low thati could 
 really do nothing in cither case, to any advantage, with- 
 out Him. 
 
 The advantages arising from a faithful attention to 
 the leadings of the Holy Spirit are very great, far 
 greater than my tongue or pen can express; even 
 in the management of our temporal affairs. And, I 
 believe, all real Christians might have their un- 
 derstandings enlightened, and their eyes anointed, 
 clearly to see how to proceed in all concerns of impor- 
 tance, provided the pure fear of the Lord prevailed in 
 their hearts ; and an humble dependence and full confi- 
 dence in the all-sufficient Helper were steadil}" main- 
 tained. I speak from experience. He has been my in- 
 
58 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 stnictor in a very particular manner; mucli more so than 
 I have mentioned, or than I can describe ; and I am far 
 from supposing that I have been more deserving than 
 others. Christ said, " Ask and ye shall receive.^' I 
 asked for his direction and assistance, and he helped 
 me, and I found the promise true. 
 f' I believe it is consistent with the divine "Will, that 
 all should have their hope and dependence more fully 
 placed in his almighty power; and that they should 
 wait for instruction from him, in all their undertakings. 
 ThuSj their understandings would be enlarged ; their 
 ideas would be clear ; and, having submitted all to the 
 disposal of divine Providence, who had directed their 
 proceedings- they would go forward without any anxious 
 cares, or distracting thoughts, respecting events. I know 
 this to my comfort. So far as I have conformed to this 
 view, a blessing has attended my undertakings, besides 
 the blessings of peace and an easy mind. 
 
 But, before I leave this subject, I will observe, that I 
 did not always so closely attend to my blessed Instructor 
 as I ought to have done : of which I will relate some 
 instances. It was the practice of shop-keepers to sell 
 rum ; and I was told that if I did not conform to it, I 
 need not expect to do any business of importance. So, 
 without waiting for direction, I fell into the practice ; 
 and followed it for several years ; until it became a sub- 
 ject of uneasiness tome. I found many used that arti- 
 cle to the injury, both of body and mind. Some spent 
 their estates to procure it ; and thus brought themselves 
 and their families into want and distress ; which gave 
 me trouble of mind. But, being unwilling to lose the 
 profits of this branch of business, I adopted an expedi- 
 ent to soothe my pain ; which was, to refuse selling it to 
 .such as I thought would make an evil use of it. But 
 this did not answer my expectations ; for they would 
 send for it by those who were not suspected. At length 
 I was made to relinquish the profits made on this arti- 
 cle ; and trust to Providence for the result. I ceased to 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 59 
 
 sell it ; which afforded me peace, and made no great di- 
 minution of my business.* 
 
 It was also customary, in those days, for Friends, as 
 well as others, to sell many superfluous articles ; such as 
 i^ay calicoes ; flowered ribbands ; and other fine things ; 
 which we, as a society, did not allow our families to 
 wear ; and which it was not consistent with our profes- 
 sion to encourage in others. With these views, I en- 
 deavored to lay aside all such superfluities, and to deal 
 in such articles only, as were really useful. | I was told 
 that if I refused to sell such goods, I might quit my 
 business ; but, as I did it from a sense of duty, I was 
 not sensible that I sustained any loss by it. 
 
 After I had been in business several years, and had 
 increased in wealth, three or four of my fellow townsmen 
 f'oncluded to build a vessel and trade to the West Indies; 
 and, without consulting my kind Instructor, 1 was pre- 
 vailed upon to join them, and continued in the trade for 
 some time ; but being favored to see my error, I with- 
 drew from the concern as soon as possible, and confined 
 myself to the business of my store. As I attended to this 
 business, I found I could not feel easy to sell my goods 
 for as much as I could get for them, as was the practice 
 with many; but by selling them at a moderate profit I 
 obtained peace of mind. 
 
 I am aware that many, and even some who make a 
 high profession of religion, will deem my remarks on 
 busine.-s, marriage, &c., unworthy of notice ; and be ready 
 to smile at them, as the whims and notions of a distem- 
 pered and enthusiastic brain, because they may have had 
 no such experience. Yet there may be others who, having 
 had some knowledge of this way, will be glad of these 
 
 * In 1742 by following his divine Glide, the author of this 
 very interestiim imrrative took a y;rouiid, in relation to the sale 
 of distilled spirit nous liquors, which placed him in advance of 
 public sentiment one Innidred years .' 
 
 f The consistenry of his practice in these cases, will be ad- 
 mitted by many who are not ytt willing to follow his e.xample. 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 remarks ; for I am sure, be^^ond all doubt, tbat what I 
 have written is true, and well worthy of attention.* And 
 if men were universally to attend to the direction of Him 
 who is come to lead us into all truth, the wars and devas- 
 tations now prevailing in our land would not have existed."!" 
 I will now recur to the time when I first joined the 
 Society of Friends. After I was admitted into member- 
 ship, I diligently attended all our meetings for worship 
 and discipline; and greatly admired the beautiful order 
 established in the society, and the living gospel ministry 
 with which we were favored. After I had been a member 
 about one year, I was concerned to appear in the minis- 
 try, and excite the careless to a consideration of their 
 *^' latter end/' I had passed through many vicissitudes 
 and tribulations ; but when this concern was laid upon 
 me, it seemed heavier than any thing I had ever had to 
 bear. I thought I could never be resigned to it. When 
 I was called out of the vanities of my youth, and was 
 obliged to submit to the cross of Christ, to become a 
 laughing-stock and a by-word to my companions and ac- 
 quaintances, I was so humbled, so mortified, and self so 
 much abased, I thought I could submit to any thing that 
 might afterwards be required of me. Again, when I 
 passed through that great trial of leaving college, in the 
 manner before related, and had to deny all the honors, 
 friendships, pleasant connections, and riches of the world, 
 I concluded I should never again meet with so great a 
 trial. But I was mistaken. This far exceeded all I had 
 previously encountered. I, however, submitted so far as 
 .to speak a few times in our meetings ; and then, through 
 
 * When we consider the superficial state of most religious 
 professors, it is no marvel they should reject the doctrine of 
 spiritual direction in secular couce\i\^ ; although it will gene- 
 rally be oranted that our f-inrilual icelfare. is clearly connected 
 with the state of our domestic and other temporal affairs. It 
 was the promise of our Lord to his followers, "When he, the 
 Spirit of Truth, is come, he will guide you iiito alltrnth.^^ — John 
 xvi. 13. 
 
 t The Revolutionary war. 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. Gl 
 
 great fear that I should not be able to persevere, I was "• 
 induced to be silent, and postpone the performance of 
 this duty until a more '^ convenient season," or more fall 
 manifestation of the divine will. I concluded, that if I 
 should continue for any considerable time to appear as a 
 minister, and afterwards should be silent, it would bring 
 greater dishonor on my profession than thus to cease at 
 an early period of such a concern. Sometimes 1 hoped 
 that at a future meeting the trial would not be so severe ; 
 at others, that more strength would be granted me. Thus 
 I reasoned, from month to mouth and year to year, during 
 seven years. In all which time the concern was often so 
 heavy, that I sat and trembled through the time of meet- 
 ing, and then went away full of sorrow, trouble and pain_^ 
 of heart. 
 
 For several years after this I seldom felt this concern ; 
 yet I was still sensible that I had a work of this kind to 
 do, and felt great pain in neglecting it. I saw no way to 
 obtain peace of mind but by a submission to the cross, 
 and becoming willing to be accounted a fool ; and this 
 being a severe trial, I evaded it. Sometimes I had a 
 faint hope that I should yet obtain strength to proceed in 
 the work, at other times I was almost in despair. 
 
 Thus I passed along for fifteen years ; during which 
 time my error was manifested to me in various ways. 
 Sometimes by the Holy Spirit, showing me that ^-obe- 
 dience is better than sacrifice, and to hearken to the voice 
 of the Lord, than the fat of rams.'' Sometimes by the 
 ministry of his messengers; and sometimes by dreams, 
 &c. Thus, in great mere}', the Lord followed me as he 
 did Ephraim of old, saying, '• How shall I give the up, 
 Ephraim ?" 
 
 One night I dreamed that I saw a large, spacious build- 
 ing, in an unfini.^^hed state; and the muster builder, who 
 appeared an excellent person, came to me as I stood at a 
 distance, and desired me to go and take a view of it ; to 
 which I agreed; and as we were surveying it, and exa- 
 mining the particular parts, I observed that among the 
 
 'o 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 many pillars, erected for the support of the building, there 
 was one lacking. I queried of him, what was the cause 
 of that vacancy. He replied, it was left for me ; and 
 that I was specially designed and prepared for the place, 
 and showed me how I fitted it, like a mortise is fitted to 
 its tenon. So that I saw in niy dream that all he said 
 was true. But, notwithstanding all this, I objected to 
 my capacity and fitness to fill the vacancy, and was there- 
 fore unwilling to occupy it. He endeavored, by the most 
 convincing reasons, to remove all my objections, and to 
 demonstrate that I was fitted for the place. He further 
 told me that they had not another prepared for it; and 
 that the building would be retarded if I did not comply 
 with the design. After he had reasoned with me a long 
 time, and I still refused, he appeared to be grieved, and 
 told me it was a great pity that I should be rendered use- 
 less in the house by my own obstinacy ; and then added, 
 " But it must not be so ; for if thou wilt not be a pillar, 
 thou sbalt be a plank for the floor." He then showed me 
 how I might be flatted and prepared for that purpose. 
 But I refused that place also, on the ground that it looked 
 too diminutive to be a piank to be trod upon by all who 
 came into the house. At this the master was troubled, 
 seeing 1 would accept no place that was ofi"ered me ; but, 
 after a long debate, he concluded to leave the propositions 
 he had made for my further consideration ; and so we 
 parted. 
 
 The next day I was at a meeting on Long Island, and 
 a concern came heavily upon mo to say something that 
 was presented to my mind. The burden of the word was 
 weighty, and more ditiicult to remove than usual ; but I 
 contended with it, and at length refused to comply. I 
 was tben in company with two women Friends travelling 
 in the ministry. The following night one of them dreamed 
 that she saw me sittiug by a pleasant stream of water ; 
 before me a table was spread with all manner of dainties ; 
 but I was chained, so that 1 could not reach any of them ; 
 at which she was troubled, and asked the master of the 
 feast why I was deprived of the liberty to partake of the 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 63 
 
 cood things on the table. He answered, that the time 
 had been when, on certain condition?, I might have en- 
 joyed them to the iull, but that I had refused the terms, 
 and therefore was now justly deprived of them. She in- 
 quired of him whether this must always be my case. He 
 answered, perhaps not ; that if I would yet submit, and 
 comply with the terms, it was not too late to partake of all 
 the good things she saw. The interpretation of this 
 dream, and of mine the night before, was easy and plain. 
 They rested on my mind for several years, as cause of 
 humbling instruction, and excitement to future care, dili- 
 gence and obedience. 
 
 The next day, as we were travelling towards a town 
 where we intended to have a meeting the following day, 
 we were informed that a people called the New-Lights 
 were to have a meeting there the same day, and that we 
 might, probably, get there at the time their meeting was 
 sitting. As soon as I heard it, I thought the word of 
 the Lord passed through me, saying, " Thou must go to 
 that meeting.'' I knew not the object, but supposed it 
 might be to bear a tcstii^ony against their errors in wor- 
 ship and practice, and to proclaim the truths of the gos- 
 \yc\ in their hearing. I rode on without speaking to my 
 companions, but the concern remained weightily with me. 
 I endeavored, as usual, to get from under it, saying to 
 my Master, " I am in no wise qualified for the service," 
 and desiring that he would send by those who were fitted 
 for such a work, or, as Moses said, " by whom he would 
 i^end," so that I might be excused. Whilst I was strug- 
 gling to evade this service, one of the women turned to 
 me and said, '' Why canst thou not go to this meeting 
 of New-Lights, and proclaim to them the Truth, as our 
 Friends did formerly ?" Her speech added fuel to the 
 fire that was burning within me. I thought it came 
 with divine authority ; but I made her no reply, having 
 before as much as I could well bear. I, however, felt 
 an engagement to press forward ; and when wo arrived 
 at the house where we intended to tarry for refreshment, 
 
64 MEMOIRS or DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 being under great exercise of mind, I walked backward 
 and forward across tlie room. The friend who bad spoken 
 to me on the road, I observed, was under great exercise 
 also. I walked and reasoned as louo; as I well could. At 
 length the power of opposition was overcome, and I was 
 obliged to submit. I then observed to the friend, " I 
 ^believe I must go to that meeting.'' She replied, " I 
 believe so also.'' The landlord, hearing what was said, 
 proposed to go with me, and I accepted of his offer. So 
 being pressed in spirit to make haste, we set out, and 
 coming to the meeting house, I stepped on the door-sill 
 to go in, and at that instant the meeting broke up. I 
 then stepped aside, and stood still in retirement of mind, 
 waiting to know my duty. The people rushed out of the 
 house, and I found my mind relieved of concern ; so I 
 was easy to return without further service. I believed 
 the u'ill to act, in this case, was accepted for the deed, 
 . and I returned in peace. 
 
 Thus, was I shown that my divine Master was able to 
 bring me to a state of submission to his holy will ; and I 
 then concluded, that if he would excuse me from such a 
 trying service, I would no longer refuse to speak among 
 those of my own persuasion. 
 
 But after all this, I proceeded with a heavy heart, 
 being sensible that my work was neglected. It was 
 several years after this occurrence, before I fully sub- 
 mitted to the divine will ; in all which time I went on 
 lamenting my unfaithfulness. Sometimes I had a hope, 
 as it were, against hope, that I should obtain a victory 
 over that slavish fear which had so long enthralled me. 
 At other times I was ready to conclude there was no 
 cause to hope for deliverance from it. Yet, during this 
 period, I was not wholly forsaken by my divine Master, 
 but was enabled to perform, I hope with acceptance, some 
 services for him ; such as warning the drunkard, the pro- 
 fane swearer and the liar, of the evil of their ways, and 
 advising them to repent. Sometimes, during this period, 
 I was also concerned to accompany Friends who were 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 65 
 
 engaged to visit religious meetings in distant places, in 
 yielding to which I found peace. Yet, when abroad on 
 such services, and ray call to the ministry was brought 
 into view, the sense of my neglect sunk my spirits, and 
 pain of heart attended me. Thus I spent more than 
 iwenty years ! 
 
 Although, as has been mentioned, I had been many 
 times invited, and had received indubitable evidence of 
 the divine will, both immediately and instrumentally, so 
 that every doubt was removed from my mind, 3"et the 
 fear of man, the fear of missing my way, the fear of doing 
 more harm than good, prevailed against me ; so that I 
 thought I should never be able to submit to the divine 
 will concerning me. But towards the termination of the 
 aforesaid time I felt more lively, and a concern to appear 
 in the ministry revived. Being from home, at a meet- 
 ing, I was concerned to say something to the people; 
 but, according to my usual custom, I postponed it till a 
 more convenient season. On this account I left the 
 meeting in great heaviness and sorrow, for my disobe- 
 dience. On the following night I dreamed that I saw 
 two generals drawing up their armies in order of battle. 
 Kach captain had his men in order, ready to obey the 
 command of their general, and stood at their head wait- 
 ing for orders to march and stand in the engagement 
 where he should command them. One of the generals 
 came to a captain, who stood near me, and said to him, 
 " You are a valiant man, and skilful in the art of war j 
 therefore march into the right wing of the ami}', and in 
 front of the battle." But the captain objected to the 
 post assigned him, and pleaded his unfitness for it, say- 
 ing, '' It is a place of danger, and requires a man better 
 (lualificd for such a post." The general answered that 
 he was well qualified for the place allotted him, and that 
 if he took it he mighty by his skill and valor, do eminent 
 sen-ice for his king and country, and gain great honor, 
 which would be a means of promoting him to places of 
 higher trust. He, however, desired to be excused, and 
 6» 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 could not be persuaded to take the post assigned liim. I 
 stood by and heard all the general's arguments to per- 
 suade him to comply, until I was filled with indignation 
 at the captain's obstinacy, especially as the general had 
 absolute authority to cominand, and yet was so kind as to 
 use entreaty and persuasion. I then said to the general, 
 ^^ It is my judgment that this captain is not worthy of 
 the place assigned him, since he refuses to serve his king 
 and country according to his capacity, and rejects the 
 honor and promotion he might obtain. Were I in the 
 general's place, I would set him in the rear of the army, 
 where he will have less opportunity of promotion, and 
 may lose his life as well as in the front." To this the 
 general replied, '^ The decision is just, and in the rear 
 he shall stand," where he was accordingly stationed. 
 
 I awoke from my sleep in great distress, under a sense 
 of the just judgment which (like David) I had passed on 
 myself. From this time, during several months, I was 
 on the brink of despair ; concluding I was wholly un- 
 worthy to stand in front, and, therefore, should be placed 
 in the rear, to be killed in obscurity. After a time of 
 great anxiety and distress of mind, the Lord was 
 graciously pleased to look upon me with compassion, and 
 again offered to make me a pillar in his house ; and I felt 
 a renewed concern to appear in public for his name, and 
 in the cause of Truth. 
 
 In the year 1755, being in compan}" with Comfort 
 Hoag* and her companion, from New p]ngland, then on 
 
 •Comfort [\oA% (afterwards Comfort Collins) was a lively 
 minister of ihe gospel, from the Colony of Massachusetts. She 
 travelled extensively on this Continent, and left many seals of 
 her ministry in places where she had been called to labor. She 
 was living in 1815, at the advanced age o( one Imndred and five 
 years. Althou^'h her natural faculties were then much impaired, 
 yet the happy effects of a religious life shone forth conspicuously 
 thro'igh all the weakness and decay of extreme old age. A 
 Friend, who visited her in the aforesaid year, says, «' a peculiar 
 innocence, calmness and quietude appeared in her countenance 
 and manner of expression, manifesting that the .tpiritnal lifp 
 was unimpaired by the decay of the natural faculties and 
 powers." 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 07 
 
 a religious visit to Friends in this part of tlie country, I 
 attended a meeting with them, in which I felt a concern 
 to speak to the assembly, but, as usual, evaded it. After 
 meeting Comfort said to me, '^ David, why didst thou 
 not preach to day V I smiled at the query, seeming to 
 wonder that she should ask such a question, and endea- 
 vored to appear innocent and ignorant of any concern of 
 that kind. As she knew nothing of me but what she 
 had felt, (having never before seen or heard of me,) she 
 said no more. On the followiyg day a similar concern 
 came upon me, and I evaded it as before. After meet- 
 ing, Comfort again said to me, ''David, why didst thou 
 not preach to-day ?" I endeavored to pass it by as I did 
 before; but she said it was not worth while to evade it, 
 for she was assured that I ought to have preached that 
 day, and that I had almost spoiled her meeting by re- 
 fraining, which had hindered her service. When I 
 found I could not conceal my faults, I confessed the 
 whole, and told her I had been for more than twenty 
 years in that practice ; and then gave her a history of 
 my life from the beginning down to that day. She ac-- 
 mired that divine kindness was yet manifested toward 
 me in such manner, seeing I had so long rebelled against 
 it, and then gave me suitable caution and advice. -> 
 
 The following day, being at meeting, I again felt a 
 concern to speak to the people, but endeavored to evade 
 it. A man of some note was sitting before me, which in- 
 creased my reluctance to speak. I supposed he would 
 not be present at the next meeting, and then I would 
 obey the call of the Lord to that service. Thus I spent 
 the greater part of an hour. At length my divine Master, 
 the great Master Builder, thus addressed me, *' Why 
 dost thou still delay, desiring to be excused until a more 
 convenient season ? There never will be a better time 
 than this. I have waited on thee above twenty years ; 
 I have clearly made known to thee my will, so that all 
 occasion of doubt has been removed ; yet thou hast re- 
 fused to submit until thy day is far spent ; and if thou 
 
08 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 <lost not spcetlily comply with my commands, it will be 
 too late ; thy opportunity will be lost/^ I then clearly 
 saw that if I were forsaken, and left to myself, the con- 
 sequence would be death and darkness forever ! At the 
 sight of the horrible pit that yawned for me, if I con- 
 tinued in disobedience, my body trembled like an aspen 
 leaf, and my soul was humbled within me ! Then I said, 
 " Lord ! here am I ; make of me what thou wouldst have 
 me to be ; leave me not in displeasure, I beseech thee." 
 All my power to resist was then suspended ; I forgot the 
 great man that had been in my way ; and was raised on 
 my feet, I hardly knew how, and expressed in a clear 
 and distinct manner what was on my mind. When I 
 had taken my seat Comfort Hoag rose, and had an open, 
 favorable opportunity to speak to the assembly. After 
 meeting she told me that, during the time we had sat in 
 silence, her whole concern was on my account ; that her 
 anxiety for my deliverance from that bondage was such, 
 that she was willing to oiFer up her natural life to the 
 Lord, if it might be a means to bring me forth in the 
 ministry ; and that on making the offering I rose to 
 speak. On which her anxiety for me was removed, and 
 her mind filled with concern for the people present. 
 '" At that time I was made a real Quaker, and was not 
 ashamed to be seen trembling before the Lord. Under 
 a sense of so great and merciful a deliverance, I saw and 
 felt ample cause for it. It was with me as with Israel 
 of old, when the Lord caused their captivity to return, 
 saying he would build them as at the first, and they 
 should fear and tremble for all his goodness, and for all 
 the prosperity he would procure for them. My soul re- 
 joiced in the Lord, and I magnified his excellent name, 
 who is worthy of all honor, glory and renown forever. 
 
 It appeared to me wonderful, that I should thus be 
 lifted out of this horrible pit of my own digging ; and I 
 was so absorbed in the love and mercy of my heavenly 
 Benefactor, that I was filled with thankfulness and praise, 
 attended with a desire that, in future; I might diligently 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 09 
 
 watch and wait for the pointing of his holy finger to 
 every service he niip^ht be pleased to allot me, that so no 
 opportunity might be lost of manifesting my gratitude 
 by obedience to his will. My feelings were like those 
 of a prisoner who had been long in bonds and was set at 
 liberty. 
 
 This appearance in the public ministry was in the year 
 1755, and in the forty-eighth year of my age. After 
 which it was never so great a cross to speak in meetings 
 as it had been before. At many times, during my long 
 silence, I had a sight that, if I were obedient to my dut}', 
 I might be made a useful member of the church, and as 
 a pillar in God's house ; but having so long rebelled, I 
 now had no reason to expect that I should be so useful 
 as I might have been, had I rendered early obedience 
 to the heavenly call. However, it appeared necessary, 
 if little were committed to my care, to bo faithful in that 
 little. Sometimes I had a hope of being useful to my 
 fellow creatures ; at other times I was left to myself, and 
 humbled under a sense of my own inability to do any 
 thing to the honor of God, or the help of others. 
 
 In the year 1758, I was received into the meeting of 
 ministers and elders ; and soon after obtained a certi- 
 ficate to visit some parts of York Government, and a 
 part of Connecticut. A companion was provided for me ; 
 and we left home on the 24th of the Third month, 
 1758. We visited about eighty meetings, chiefly 
 amongst those of other societies, to our own satisfaction ; 
 and, apparently so, to the people generally ; who sat in 
 their meetings admirably quiet ; gave great attention to 
 what was said ; and were much affeated. They were 
 kind and affectionate ; and seemed unwilling to part with 
 us. I was four months and five days from home ; rode 
 about one thousand miles; and returned in peace, and 
 thankfulness of heart to the God and Father of all our 
 mercies. 
 
 For some years after this journey, I seldom appeared' 
 in the ministry. My friends, as well as myself, were iuzj 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 'clincd to believe that if ever I had a gift for that ser- 
 vice, it was taken from me. I was reduced very low; 
 and great distress attended my mind. I was often ready 
 to sa}'^, " Is God's mercy quite gone ? Will he be favor- 
 able no more ?" I went mourning on my way, and had 
 ^ little comfort in my life. In the night I wished for day; 
 and in the day I wished for night. None can conceive 
 with what horror and anxiety I was attended ; unless 
 thc}^ have been tried with similar desertion. The cause 
 of my being so tried, I did not then see ; but after I was 
 in some measure mercifully restored, I believed it was 
 to humble me ; that I might be brought to a more per- 
 fect and entire dependence upon the divine gift; that 
 
 ^so nothing of .seZ/'should be present in my ministry. 
 
 After it pleased the Lord to revisit my soul with the 
 light of life, I felt a concern to arise, and increase, for 
 the welfare of my fellow-creatures. I sav/ that the pro- 
 fessors of Christianity were mostly at ease ; and that 
 many under our name were contented with a mere pro- 
 fession of the Truth ; and I felt a desire that the care- 
 less and negligent might be awakened to a perception of 
 their dangerous situation. 
 
 In the year 1771, Samuel Neale, of Ireland, being oa 
 a religious visit to Friends in America, came to my 
 house, on his way to Maryland. Having no companion, 
 I offered to bear him company. He accepted my offer, 
 ;ind we set out in the Fifth month, and spent about a 
 mouth in visiting the meetings of Friends, as far as 
 West lliver ; those on the Eastern-Shore of Maryland ; 
 and those between Lewistown and Wilmington. After 
 which we rested a few days, at my house. Samuel in- 
 tended to visit the meeting of Friends in New Jersey, 
 and no better companion offering, I accompanied him in 
 that journey also. From Wilmington we went to Sa- 
 lem ; and after visiting all the meetings thereabouts, we 
 crossed the country to Cape ■May ; and visited those of 
 Great and Little Egg Harbor, Shrewsbury, and other 
 parts of New Jers<^y, spending between six and seven 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 71 
 
 weeks, to our niiitual satisfaction. We parted at a meet- 
 ing called Solomon's ; Samuel p;oing to Philadelphia, 
 and I returning home ; where 1 found my family in 
 health. 
 
 Soon after my return, Samuel wrote to me, desiring I 
 would prepare for a journey to New England. It was 
 very pleasant to me, to find he had a concern to visit 
 my native country ; for he had often said he saw no pro- 
 bability of making such a visit. I felt willing to go 
 with him, with the approbation of my friends at home ; 
 of which I soon received their certiticate ; and made 
 ready for the journey. I left home on the 10th of the 
 Ninth month, 1771 ; and went to our Yearly Meeting 
 nt Philadelphia; which proved to me a good, comforta- 
 ble meeting; as I believe it did to many others. Some 
 friends, whom 1 highly esteemed, informed me that they 
 were pleased with my intention to accompany Samuel 
 Neale ; which afforded me some encouragement ; for I 
 was in a low state of mind ; feeling a great poverty of 
 spirit. I was apprehensive that Friends would prefer a 
 better companion for him ; and might advise me to re- 
 turn home ; but Samuel seemed well pleased to find me 
 prepared for the journey. 
 
 After the Yearly Meeting had concluded, we set out 
 for New England on the 27th of the Ninth month ; and 
 proceeded directly to Railway ; where we had a meeting 
 on First day ; and, in the afternoon, rode to New York. 
 Here we had a meeting on Second day; and rested the 
 day following. On Fourth day we attended the monthly 
 meeting at Newtown, on Long Island. After which we 
 returned to New York. Thence we rode to Shappaqua ; 
 and so on, to Ammawalk, Peachpond, Oblong, Shear- 
 man's meeting, Oswego, Jonathan Hong's, Over-tbe- 
 Oreek, Nine Partners, and Salisbury ; and had meetings 
 at all those places to pretty good satisfaction. From 
 Salisbury we rode about one hundred mik^ eastward to 
 Ijeicester; had a meeting there ; and lodged at the widow 
 Earle's; another at Boston, and one at Salem. Af- 
 
iZ MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 terwards we proceeded in a nortli-easterly direction ; at- 
 tended all the meetings of Friends, as far as CascoBay; 
 and one on the other side of the Bay. We crossed the 
 Bay on the 27th of Tenth month ; and returned the 
 following day. On our return, the wind was violent ; 
 and we appeared to be in imminent danger. There were 
 fourteen persons in the boat, which was a small one, and 
 the Bay eighteen miles wide ; but, through divine mer- 
 cy, we landed safely at Falmouth, and went that night 
 to Benjamin Wiuslow's. From thence we travelled 
 homeward, fifty -five miles, to Berwick; and attended 
 the quarterly meeting at Dover. Thence we went to 
 Kittery, Barrington, Lee, Epping, and to a newly set- 
 tled place, fifty miles west of Hampton, called Ware ; 
 and had meetings at all those places. From Ware we 
 returned to Hampton ; and thence proceeded to Salem, 
 Lynn, and Boston; and so, onward, to Nantucket; vi- 
 siting meetings on the way. Afterwards we visited "Rhode 
 Island ; and thence travelled through New. England, and 
 York Government ; and arrived in Philadelphia after an 
 absence of four months and a half. Having travelled, 
 by land and water, about seventeen hundred miles ; gene- 
 rally to good satisfaction. I returned home in peace, 
 and found my fiimily well. 
 
 After this journe}^, Samuel Neale and I were con- 
 cerned to visit some parts of York Government ; and 
 some within the bounds of Connecticut. We set out 
 on the 27th of the Fourth month, 1772, and went to 
 the quarterly meeting at Oblong. We spent about six 
 weeks in visiting the meetings of Friends ; and holding 
 some amoDgst those of other societies. On our return 
 to Philadelphia, I parted with my beloved friend, Samuel 
 Neale ; with whom I had travelled, altogether, about 
 nine months. 
 
 On the 16th of the Tenth month, 1772, having ob- 
 tained a certifi^cate of the concurrence of my friends, I 
 set out in order to visit the southern provinces ; in com- 
 pany with my friend, Bobcrt \'alentiue ; whom I met 
 ■At Yorktown, in Penns^'lvauia. On the afternoon of the 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS, l-i 
 
 day of our meeting, we rode to Newberry; where we 
 attended a meeting the following day ; which was not 
 very satisfactory. I was very much depressed under the 
 weight of the undertaking ; which appeared a very 
 great one, for two such poor striplings. For though we 
 were not young in years, yet we were so in experience 
 as ministers. Hitherto, I had generally travelled with 
 old, experienced ministers; upon whom I could lean ; as 
 I was too apt to do. But now, under the prospect that 
 the work would devolve with greater weight on me, I 
 was much cast down ; although Robert was a valuable 
 friend, and lively minister. I mentioned to him my dis- 
 couragement; but he spoke cheerfully ; saying he believed 
 we should get well along, if our Master would go with 
 us ; which he hoped would be the case. On the follow- 
 ing day we had a large meeting at Warrington; and our 
 Master was with us, indeed ; and favored us with his 
 life-giving presence. It was an aflecting time. The 
 power of Truth prevailed over all. Life was in domi- 
 nion. Divine Love filled many hearts ; and we parted 
 with the people in much love and tenderness. This com- 
 fortable meeting relieved me of my fears, and renewed 
 my faith. We now went on pretty cheerfully ; under 
 the hope that we should be favored, from time to time, 
 with fresh supplies of divine help, through our journey. 
 We visited meetings on our way to Fairfax ; were at 
 their monthly meeting, and several others, in that neigh- 
 borhood. At that time our valuable friend, John Church- 
 man, was at Fairfax : and we attended several meetings 
 with him. Robert and I had an evening meeting at 
 Louisburg. It was held in their court-house, and many 
 of their great people were present. It proved a very 
 trying time to us both ; such as I had never known be- 
 fore. But, after we had been sufficiently tried and mor- 
 tified, we were favored v/ith a good, comfortable oppor- 
 tunity to relieve ourselves ; for which I was truly and 
 humbly thankful. John Churchman remained at Amos 
 Jauney's, in Fairfax, until we had visited all the meet- 
 7 
 
<4 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 iugs in that neighborhood. After finishing this service, 
 we returned to Amos Jauney's ; and from thence set out 
 on our journey southward. At partiugwith John Church- 
 man, he told us he had no objections to our going for- 
 ward ; which afforded us great encouragement. I was 
 inclined to believe he would advise me to return home ; 
 and not attempt further to execute my enterprise. I con- 
 cluded he would perceive our weakness, and be honest to 
 us in the cause of Truth ; and I felt willing to re- 
 ceive such advice, not desiring to proceed without di- 
 vine approbation. But, notwithstanding we had been 
 encouraged to proceed, I went on in great fear ; having 
 a daily sense of of my own insufficiency for so great and 
 important a service. We, however, ventured to proceed 
 to Hopewell ; and attended all the meetings in that 
 neighborhood ; then went to Smith's Creek ; thence to 
 Douglass, Camp Creek, Fork Creek, and Genito ; to John 
 Johnson's, in Amelia county ; to South Eiver, a branch 
 of James' River ; to Stanton ; and so on, to North Caro- 
 lina. We had meetings at all these, and some other 
 places. In New-Garden settlement we were at one Quar- 
 terly meeting, three Monthly meetings, and eighteen pub- 
 lic meetings. Though we had our trials and baptizing 
 seasons, and felt need of daily assistance, the great Shep- 
 herd of Israel was near us and favored us with help. 
 We felt great love for the people ; and I hope our visit 
 may be useful to some of them. 
 
 Soon after we entered New-Garden settlement, and 
 before we had a meeting there, my companion heard a 
 report that a letter had come for me ; and that it con- 
 tained bad news. It was said the letter had passed us ; 
 and when, or where, it would be found, was very uncer- 
 tain. My companion consulted with some friends on 
 the subject ; and they thought it would be best to con- 
 ceal the report from me; as we were just going to the 
 first meeting in the settlement. However, as we rode 
 along, he thought it right to inform me of the rumor ; 
 and told me it was reported I was sent for home. On 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 75 
 
 hearinp; iti was filled with concern ; the enemy was busy ; 
 and I was weak ; yet I continued my journey ; although 
 I had poor meetings. I supposed my friends were un- 
 easy with my proceedings ; and had. sent to request mo 
 to return. The report concerning the letter spread 
 among the people : and it was currently asserted that 
 Wilmington was burnt to ashes ; that all my property 
 was consumed ; and that I was sent for on that account. 
 These were heavy tidings ; and all true, for anything I 
 knew to the contrary. After several days of great anx- 
 iety, a hope arose in my mind that it was not so bad as 
 was reported ; for, as I turned my mind towards home, 
 it seemed to me, that my dwelling house at least was safe. 
 I had now been about ten days under this trouble, when 
 we lodged at the house of a Friend whose wife was a 
 sensible, religious woman, well acquainted with the 
 snares of the enemy ; and she, hearing me say some- 
 thing of returning, as I could hear nothing further of 
 the letter, told me she believed there was little or no 
 tnith in the reports ; but that it was the work of Satan 
 and his emissaries, to hinder my service, and send me 
 home. This was a seasonable caution. 
 
 When we had visited nearly all the meetings in that 
 neighborhood, and as we designed to proceed to Bush 
 River, in South Carolina, I thought it best to use every 
 means to find the letter, before we went further. I there- 
 fore hired a young man to go back in pursuit of the let- 
 ter as far as Hillsborough, sixty miles, if necessary. Af- 
 ter proceeding about thirty miles in the search, he found 
 it ; and brought it to me, just as we were going into a 
 meeting. I opened and read the letter, much to my 
 comfort. There was no account of tire, or any other 
 unpleasant occurrence in it. Thus all my uneasiness 
 was removed. 
 
 This storm being happily blown over, we set out for 
 South Carolina. Zachariah Dicks, John Carter, Wil- 
 liam Lindley, and John Unthank, accompanied us to 
 Bush River, two hundred miles; which we travelled in 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 five days. Two of the Friends remained at Bush lliver, 
 while we went to Georgia. We went afterwards to Wa- 
 teree and Pedee. xVt the latter place we had two meet- 
 ings with Friends. There we parted with the Friends 
 before mentioned. They had been our pleasant and af- 
 fectionate companions for about a month. After our 
 separation, Eobert and I felt lonesome ; having to ride 
 one hundred and twenty miles before we could come 
 amongst Friends again. During two days we had guides 
 to conduct us ; then, hoping we should be able to find the 
 way without their assistance, we advised them to return 
 home. We arrived at Richard Cox's, at Neuse lliver, in 
 safety; and after having two satisfactory meetings there, 
 we rode fifteen miles, to Great Contentney ; where we 
 had a meeting. From thence, we went to Henry Home's 
 at Tar River, and had a meeting at his house; which 
 was a poor, low time. The professors there seemed in- 
 clined to the Baptists. From Tar River we went to Rich 
 Square ; and, after attending their meeting, we set out 
 towards the old settlement, in Xorth Carolina. As we 
 proceeded towards the lower settlements, in Carolina and 
 Virginia, among a wise people, as I supposed, fat and 
 full, possessing great numbers of slaves, I was very pen- 
 sive ; and so much depressed, that I would gladly have 
 passed them by, and returned immediately home. But 
 I saw no way for me, but to look to my divine Instructor; 
 and depend on Him who had hitherto been our sufficient 
 helper, in every strait and difficulty. After a time of 
 trial, I was favored with a degree of fortitude and resig- 
 nation. I went down among them in fear; but we 
 found some tender, loving, well-inclined people ; and 
 were favored with heavenly help, and enabled to proceed, 
 I hope, to the honor of Truth, and advantage of the 
 people; for many of whom we felt a tender regard, and 
 parted with them in much love. 
 
 Although they were generally in the practice of keep- 
 ing slaves, yet they had begun to see the error of it, and 
 were desirous to be relieved of the burden, but saw no 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 77 
 
 way to effect it, to the satisftiction of themselves and their 
 slaves, because of the cruel laws in force in these colo- 
 nies ; by which, if a man set his slaves free, they would 
 be liable to be seized and sold to the highest bidder; 
 which appeared grievous, both to themselves and their 
 owners. 
 
 We visited nearly all the meetings in the lower parts 
 of North Carolina and Virginia, to our satisfaction. We 
 then passed into Maryland, and visited the meetings on 
 the western shore as far as Baltimore ; from thence we 
 came directly home. I found my family and temporal 
 concerns as well as usual ; and had great peace and satis- 
 faction of mind, under a thankful sense of the many 
 favors we had received, and that divine assistance had 
 been afforded in every trying season. We had been en- 
 gaged in this visit just five months ; had travelled nearly 
 three thousand miles; had attended one hundred and 
 five public meetings ; and arrived at home on the 16tli 
 of the Third month, 1773. 
 
 After my return from this journey I did not travel far 
 from home until the Fifth month, 1776 ; when, in com- 
 pany with John Perry, I left home to pay a religious 
 visit to Friends in New England. 
 
 5th month 19th, we attended Ilaverford meeting, and 
 next day reached Isaac Bolton's, in Bucks County ; 
 thence to llahway, where wc met with Rebecca Wright 
 and Phebe Yarnall, who were engaged on a similar visit 
 to New England; and after being at Kahway Meeting, 
 we went on together to New York. 24th, we were at a 
 meeting at Flushing, on Long Island. After having 
 several other meetings on the island, we returned to the 
 main land, and had a meeting at Westchester on the 
 28th ; thence to Mamaroneck and Purchase, where the 
 negro masters were closely dealt with in the public service 
 of the meeting. 
 
 After having a meeting at North Castle, we went on 
 to Kichard Titus's, at Greenwich, forty miles eastward 
 
(Q MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 of New York, in Connecticut government, and had a 
 meeting at Jesse Hallock's, who married Edward Bur- 
 ling's daughter. Charles Brock having accompanied us 
 from Eahway, we were now joined by John Alsop, who 
 came to pilot us, and we all set forward on the 3d of 6th 
 month through Connecticut towards Khode Island. Going 
 by way of New Milford, New Haven, Guilford, Seabrook, 
 and New London to Stonington, on the 6th we arrived 
 at John Collius's and attended Hopkinton meeting, which 
 was held in silence, except that John Perry said a few 
 words near the close. 
 
 1th. "We had an appointed meeting at Hopkinton, 
 which was a more open time ; next day we had a hard, 
 laborious meeting at Westerly ; but something was com- 
 municated to the people near the close for their help, if 
 they would accept it. Thence, with Thomas Wilbur for 
 a guide, we went to Jonathan Hoxie's and lodged, and 
 next day attended Richmond meeting, which was a good, 
 comfortable time. After a satisfactory sitting at John 
 Knowles's, where we dined, we went on to South Kings- 
 ton, or the Upper Meeting, which we attended on the 
 10th of 6th month ; and next day were at the Lower 
 Meeting, where, after long and close exercise, we had a 
 favored opportunity together. After dining at Thomas 
 Hazard's, we crossed the two ferries and arrived at New- 
 port on Rhode Island. The rest of our company remain- 
 ing there, John Perry and I rode out of town to James 
 Mitchell's, where we were kindly received and enter- 
 tained. 
 
 12/7/. We attended the Meeting for Sufferings, held 
 at Portsmouth, and were at several sittings with them to 
 satisfaction. We attended all the sittings of the Yearly 
 Meeting to edification and comfort. The meeting closed 
 on the 18th, and next day we had an appointed meeting 
 at Seaconnet. tZUth, wc attended Accoaksett Monthly 
 Meeting, and the dny following had a large meeting held 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVIT) FKRRIS. 79 
 
 in an orchard, for it was supposed that one-half the 
 people could not have got into the meeting house ; but 
 it was mostly a silent opportunity. We then rode six 
 miles to Accushnet, and attended meeting there on First 
 day; thence to New Bedford, and lodged at Joseph 
 Retch's. On Second day we were at Aponegansett 
 Monthly Meeting, which was very large, and a favored 
 season. Returning again to Joseph Rotch's, we next 
 day at sunrise went on board S. Starbuck's sloop, bound 
 for Nantucket; and in eight hours cast anchor without 
 the bar, but got in near night and lodged at William 
 Rotch's. 
 
 We spent several days on Nantucket visiting aged and 
 sick people, and had several very large public meetings, 
 also were at their Monthly Meeting. On the 2d of 7th 
 month we again embarked with Samuel Starbuck, and in 
 five hours landed at Wood's Hole, where we lodged at 
 the widow Wing's. Next day had a satisfactory meeting 
 at Falmouth ; and the day following, after dining at Ben- 
 jamin Swift's, we rode 16 miles to Sandwich, and lodged 
 at Joshua Wing's. After attending the several sittings 
 of the Quarterly Meeting held at Sandwich, Phebe Yar- 
 nall and Rebecca Wright left us and went on toward 
 Cape (^od. We had travelled together in much unity 
 and harmony for about seven weeks, and now parted in 
 the same, their prospect leading towards Boston and 
 eastward. John Perry and I staid at meeting at Sand- 
 wich on First day, and next day had a meeting at 
 Rochester in the morning, also one in the afternoon at 
 Long Plain. 
 
 Ninth of Seventh mouth we rode through Taunton to 
 Moses Brown's, near Providence, and next day went to 
 the Meeting for Sufferings held at Smithfield. At this 
 meetiiig the sorrowful aft'air of T. Davis was discoursed 
 of. We then attended the Quarterly Meeting held at 
 Smithfield, and returned to Moses Brown's. On First 
 day we were at the morning and afternoon meetings 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 held at Providence. On the 14th we attended a poor 
 meeting at Greenwich, and lodged at Benjamin Cong- 
 don's; next day, had a very satisfactory meeting at Ne- 
 shanticut, in which the seasoning virtue of Truth was 
 felt to our mutual edification. We had the company of 
 Moses Brown, his wife's mother, and sister Mary Olney, 
 Job Scott, Samuel Rodman and divers other Friends, 
 who dined with us at the house of Elisha Harris, a man 
 partly convinced of Friends' principles. Here we had a 
 blessed opportunity together — a time of the renewing of 
 life, in which the Divine blaster was with us, strength- 
 ening and uniting us in the love of the gospel. 
 
 On the 17th, we attended old Smithfield Preparative 
 Meeting, and next day that at AVainsokett, which was 
 comfortable. Thence we went to Moses Farnum's, at 
 Uxbridge, and were at a meeting there the day following. 
 On First day, the 21st, we attended the meeting at Scitu- 
 ate, which was very full, being composed of people of 
 divers professions ; but ability was given to say what 
 seemed necessary for the occasion. At this place John 
 Perry was poorly, and jMoses Farnum and Moses Brown 
 stayed with us and lodged at Gideon Harris's. Next 
 morning these Friends left us, and in the afternoon we 
 set out for Hartford in Connecticut. Passing through 
 Coventry, Plainfield and Windham, we reached Hartford, 
 and thence rode on through Farmington, Waterbury and 
 Woodbury to my brother-in-law Dobson Wheeler's, at 
 New Milford, where we attended their Fifth day meeting, 
 and then went to see sister Sarah Noble. We also visited 
 Joseph Ferris's family, and on First day attended Friends 
 meeting on the Plain, which was but a poor and low 
 time. In the afternoon we had a meeting at the sepa- 
 rate meeting house in New Milford, the Baptist and 
 Presbyterian teachers being present; but they were too 
 full of expectation of words, of which I had not much 
 ■for them, and John Perry thought no fish were caught. 
 29th, we rode to the Oblong, and next day had a good 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 81 
 
 lueetinp; at the Nine Partners. "NYc tlieu went to my 
 brotlior Benjamin Ferris's, at Oblong, and attended 
 meeting there. 
 
 On the 1st of the 8th month, in company with Wil- 
 liam Kussel and Paul Osborn, v>'e set out and went for- 
 ward toward the North River, which we crossed at New 
 Windsor, being upwards of two miles wide, and lodged 
 at a tavern about forty-three miles from Oblong. Next 
 day we reached Benjamin Schooley's, at Pauline Hill, 
 and the day following got to the Great Meadows, and 
 attended Hardwich meeting on the 4th, which was to 
 pretty good satisfaction. Thence we went on through 
 Kingwood, and lodged at Samuel Eastburn's, in Bucks 
 County, Pennsylvania, and thence home, from which I 
 had been absent eleven weeks. We had travelled, by 
 land and water, eight hundred miles. I was favored 
 with peace of mind, and found my family well. 
 
 1779, 5 mo. 21. lam now drawing towards the conclusion 
 of life, being, this day, seventy-two years of age. For the 
 encouragement of others, I will now briefly recapitulate 
 some of the kind dealings of Providence towards me. 
 The (Jod of my life, my >Iaker and Preserver, has been 
 propitious to me, from youth to old age. The fear of 
 the Lord, which preserves from evil, was placed in my 
 heart when I was but eight years old, so that I was afraid 
 to offend him. In the twelfth year of my age I was 
 mercifully visited, and called out of the vanities of the 
 world ; at which time 1 received a promise, that if I 
 sought first the kingdom of God, all other necessary 
 things should be added ; and I have found the promise 
 true, for I never have wanted any of the good things of 
 this life. I have been blessed with sufficient for myself 
 and friends, and something to spare to the poor. And 
 I esteem it a great favor that I received a disposition to 
 communicate to those who stood in need. If all men 
 would " seek first the kingdom of heaven and the righte- 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 
 
 ousness thereof," and carefully attend to the leadings of 
 the Holy Spirit, with which all might be favored, I be- 
 lieve they would be blest with a sufficient portion of 
 wealth. 0, that mankind were wise ! and would early 
 seek that treasure which cometh from above, and which 
 neither moth nor rust can cornipt, nor thieves break 
 through and steal ! And may we all beware of loving 
 the world, and living at ease in the enjoyment of its good 
 and pleasant things ! Even those who have been favored 
 with remarkable divine visitations, and have been put 
 in possession of " the upper and the nether springs," 
 have great need to be on their guard. When we enjoy 
 health and plenty, and all things seem pleasant around 
 us, we are prone to forget the Lord, and neglect those 
 ^^ things that belong to our peace." This I know by 
 sorrowful experience. In this way I was brought into a 
 long, dark and mournful situation, and kept from yielding 
 obedience to my own duty respecting the ministry. Al- 
 though I had been called out of the world and uncom- 
 monly favored, as before related ; although I had forsaken 
 the vanities and flesh-pleasing gratifications in which I 
 had delighted ; although I had left the college in a way 
 so mortifying -, had given up all to death, and freely borne 
 the cross of being esteemed a fool by the world ; after- 
 wards joining with the despised Quakers, adopting their 
 language, dress and behaviour ; all which I could not 
 have done without divine assistance ; yet, after all this, 
 I was so forgetful and ungrateful to my heavenly Bene- 
 factor, that it is a wonder I was ever restored. And I 
 have no doubt that thousands, through negligence, even 
 after they have been called out of the world, and have 
 run well for a season, have been finally lost; stvimming 
 away in the riches and pleasures of this transitory state. 
 This I have written for a warning to others. 
 
 In the early part of the winter, after my return from 
 New England in 1770, I was reduced to a poor state of 
 health, and so continue. I believe I have not lately 
 been ever clear of a slow fever ; but have generally been 
 
MEMOIRS OF DAVID FERRIS. 83 
 
 able to go to our religious meetings at and near home , 
 sometimes to Philadelphia, and once into Maryland, the 
 lower counties on Delaware, &c. &c. 
 
 DAVID FERRIS. 
 Wilmington y bth month, 1779. 
 
ATPENDIX. 
 
 The followino: letters, on the subject of Shivery, give a 
 lively view of the concern under which our predecessoi-s 
 labored in the cause of African Emancipation. With 
 them it was a rellgioKSi concern. We of the present gene- 
 ration can have no adequate idea of the trials which our 
 Friends of that day endured, in the prosecution of the 
 subject. To many of them it involved the most serious 
 consequences, even the exchange of affluence and ease 
 for poverty and hardship. Nothing but relvjious concern 
 could have prepared them to make such a sacrifice ; no- 
 thing but a reli</ioi(S ground could have supported them 
 under it. To them the call was extended, as it was to 
 the young man mentioned by the Evangelist — " Go sell 
 all that thou hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt 
 have treasure in heaven." In obedience to that call, and 
 with faith in the providence of God, they went up to the 
 altar, and laid upon it " even all their living." No po- 
 litical or selfish motives stained the purity of their offer 
 ing; no love of popularity or of personal distinction 
 swayed their conduct. Love to God and man was their 
 spring of action, and peace of mind their ultimate object. 
 The letters on the subject of slavery which immediately 
 follow, are inserted with the view to illustrate the fore- 
 8 
 
86 APPENDIX. 
 
 going remarks, and as aifording a rare specimen of that 
 afiectionatep/am deaUn(/ which, then marked the charac- 
 ter of Friends, and which was soon followed by such 
 abundance of fruit. David Ferris was a contemporary 
 and fellow-laborer with John Woolman and Anthony 
 Benezet, being intimately acquainted with both. Like 
 them, he made universal benevolence the ground and 
 spring of his action j like them he sought Divine direc- 
 tion, and was careful to follow it. Under the holy in- 
 fluence of love, and from the pure impulse of religious 
 concern, he used to go forth alone to visit those who 
 held slaves ; travelling from neighborhood to neighbor- 
 hood, and from house to house; and, while earnestly 
 pleading the cause of the colored man, was as earnestly 
 concerned for the freedom and salvation of his master. 
 Great was the work, and wonderful the result of their 
 labors. Many who saw the first action of the Society of 
 Friends in the cause of Africau Emancipation, lived to 
 see that Society wholly disenthralled, standing before the 
 world without a slave within its borders. 
 
 The success of their undertaking furnishes a striking 
 instance of the great importance of adopting right means 
 for the accomplishment of a right end. 
 
 The letters on other subjects are added a^ further il- 
 lustrating the religious character of David Ferris, and 
 exhibiting his concern for the promotion of Truth and 
 llighteousness. The weighty counsel and sound Grospel 
 truths they contain, are as appropriate and instructive at 
 the present day, as they were at the time when they were 
 written. 
 
APPENDIX. 87 
 
 Wilmington, y' 20th 9 mo., 1767. 
 Dejxr Fnends^ Samuel Field and Wife: — 
 
 I have been acquainted with you for many years, and 
 have always entertained for you a sincere regard and 
 esteem, with desires for your present and eternal welfare. 
 I have remembered a charge given to Israel of old — 
 '' Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart, but shalt 
 in any wise rebuke him, aud not suffer sin upon him." 
 Whether you continue to hold slaves or not I am not 
 informed, but, if you are yet in that practice, I wish you 
 seriously to consider the law that was given forth under 
 the present dispensation, on this wise, " Whatsoever ye 
 would that men should do to^'ou, do ye even so to them.'' 
 
 Now, I wish you to compare your own conduct with 
 this law. Would you be willing your own children 
 should be taken into some remote land, and they and 
 their posterity brought up in ignorance, and held in per- 
 petual slavery ? Or would you like that one of your 
 neighbors, who had the power, should act so by your own 
 family, and refuse to listen to any entreaty for your re- 
 lease ? If any neighbor should treat you and your chil- 
 dren in this manner, what sort of a Christian would you 
 judge him to be ? 
 
 The law I have recited was enacted under the Chris- 
 tian dispensation, and ought to be the rule of our con- 
 duct. It relates to all men, of all nations, colors and 
 languages, of every rank and degree, to an Ethiopian or 
 African equally with an Englishman or American. The 
 poor Blacks have the same right to freedom that we have, 
 and Truth and Righteousness require that it should be 
 granted to them. Now, if justice demands that they 
 should be treated like other men, where does the slave- 
 holder stand, and what is his condition ? Is he not 
 robbing his neighbor and oppressing the poor, who have 
 none to help them nor plead their cause '/ It is high 
 time for slaveholders to look about them, and speedily 
 
88 APPENDIX. 
 
 to devise measures to extricate tliemselves from the ini- 
 quity of their conduct, before it be too late. 
 
 Now, my dear friends, your time, as well as my own, 
 is far spent, and I much desire that your conduct in re- 
 lation to slave-keeping, as well as to all other concerns, 
 may be such, that you may lay down your heads in peace 
 at last. 
 
 I am satisfied, that if you had duly considered this 
 subject, and laid aside all consideration of worldly inte- 
 rests, you would long ago have released the captive from 
 his bonds, and have let the oppressed go free ; for I be- 
 lieve it is as honest, and as consistent with Christianity, 
 to take a man's money or goods for nothing, as it is to 
 take his labor. Besides, there is something worse in the 
 iniquity of slavery than taking his labor without com- 
 pensation. The poor slave is not only defrauded of his 
 liberty ; he is forced to come and go at the command of 
 another, when many times, from want of health, he is 
 not fit to perform the service required. Yet they are 
 obliged to obey, and do often obey under great sufl'ering 
 and hardship. Now, this is grievous oppression, of 
 which every slave-keeper is guilty more or less. 
 
 The Scriptures declare that '' he who oppresseth the 
 poor reproachcth his Maker," and among all mankind 
 I know of none who are poorer, or more oppressed, than 
 the poor Africans, under the professors of Christianity. 
 Besides, they ace generally brought up in ignorance. 
 As an unrighteous covetousness is the motive for hold- 
 ing them as slaves, so it is for keeping them in ignorance. 
 Learning cannot be acquired without an expense of time 
 and money. Some masters and mistresses are so void of 
 Christianity (although they profess it) that they are not 
 ashamed to use this as an argument to defend their con- 
 duct, adding, as a further justification, that learning will 
 not make them better but worse slaves ! Others, who 
 do not venture so to express themselves, follow the same 
 course and for the same reasons. 
 
 Very few of the masters are concerned to teach or in- 
 
APPENDIX. 89 
 
 stmct their slaves in the principles of the Christian re- 
 ligion — to bring them np in the right way, or to take 
 them diligently to places of worship. To the shame of 
 their profession, it may be said, they manifest little care 
 on the subject. Indeed, it could hardly be expected 
 that those whose practice is so repugnant to Christianity, 
 should incline to teach their slaves its principles ; be- 
 cause, if it were honestly done, the slave would be taught 
 to condemn the master, and to upbraid him with acting 
 inconsistently with his own principles. If slaveholders 
 were to teach their negroes to read and write, to give 
 them good instruction, to use all reasonable means to 
 promote their attendance at meetings for divine worship, 
 they might indeed have less to answer for than they 
 have who icholly neglect these duties. But all this would 
 not relieve the oppressed, nor restore them to their just 
 rights. Their owners would still be their oppressors ; 
 the oppressed would still cry to heaven, and heaven 
 would still hear their cries. My desire for you is, that 
 you may so act as to stand clear, and be acquitted in 
 the day of account. 
 
 I pity the slaveholder far more than I pity his slaves, 
 because I believe him to be in a worse condition than 
 they. I should choose rather to he the slave than his mas- 
 ter or mistress.* 
 
 If you yet hold any slaves, I do entreat you to set 
 them free immediately. Teach your children by example 
 to shun the gain of oppression. Do not transfer your 
 negroes to your offspring, nor leave them so that your 
 
 • This letter was written in the year 17C7, eighteen years 
 before Coivper 7vrote " The Tan/.,'' It is pleasing to see the 
 generous and truly Christian sentiment contained in this para- 
 graph, so elegantly expressed by the poet, after the lapse of so 
 many years : 
 
 " : dear as freedom is, and, in my heart's 
 
 Just estimation, prized above all price ; 
 
 I had murit rather he myself the slave, 
 
 And wear the boJ/dsy than fastfn them on him.'' 
 
 Cowper's Task, Book 2d, line 33, &c. 
 8» 
 
90 APPENDIX. 
 
 children shall expect any thing from them, or be laid 
 under any temptation to become their oppressors. Set 
 them all free now, whilst it is in your power. Give them 
 a full discharge in writing ; and by a bond secure to the 
 minors their freedom, when they shall arrive at age. 
 Let the manumissions be legally drawn and executed, 
 so that neither you nor your children, nor any other 
 person, may take them again into bondage. Let these 
 instruments of writing be duly and safely recorded. 
 
 Do not plead that your slaves are too old, or say they 
 are drunken or thievish, and will not be able to get their 
 living. All these things are nothing to you ! Do your 
 duty, and then leave them to Providence. You have 
 no more cause to be concerned about their future con- 
 duct, than you have about the conduct of others. Only 
 do your duty and you may trust for the rest. 
 
 As to their age, if they were even seventy years old 
 they ought to be liberated, and breathe a free air as long 
 as they can breathe at all, and to be well cared for, and 
 kindly treated and maintained. Those who have served 
 thirty or forty years, ought not, by any means, to be sent 
 away empty, but should be liberally furnished out of 
 your stock. Israel of old was commanded, on liberating 
 their bretliren who had been bond-servants, that they 
 should not let them go away empty ; ^' thou shalt furnish 
 him liberally, out of that with Avhich the Lord thy God 
 hath blessed thee.'^ In this gospel dispensation all man- 
 kind are our brethren, and ought to be treated as such. 
 
 Suppose a man has served until he is 40 years old, 
 that is 19 years more than is just; and his service has 
 been well worth £V1 per annum, amounting to ^228. 
 Now, to turn such a one away and give him nothing is 
 unchristian, yea, it is dishonest ! It shows that we would 
 not 2)ay a Just debt unless compelled by the law. 
 
 I have often thought of you in relation to this subject, 
 with desires for your well doing, and felt as if it would 
 be like " suffering sin upon my neighbor," if I should 
 be silent. I have therefore given you some hints of my 
 
APPENDIX. 91 
 
 mind, which I desire may be well taken, as they are well 
 meant. Do not make light of them, and laujrh at my 
 concern, as pitying my weakness, Slaveholding is in- 
 justice, and will be found a heavy burden at last. 
 From your friend and well wisher, 
 
 David Ferris. 
 
 Wilminfflon, y« 20th 9th mo., 1774. 
 
 Esteemed Friend, Robert Pleasants, — I have often 
 been thoughtful of thee, since I was in your part of the 
 country, det^iring that thou mayest so steer thy course 
 through time, as to come safely to the haven of eternal 
 rest in the conclusion. 
 
 There is one circumstance which has particularly 
 engaged me in concern ft)r thee, and that is the condition 
 of the poor black people now by thee held in bondage. I 
 fear that to hold them in a state of slavery, deprived of 
 their natural right, may be a means of depriving thee of 
 thy own freedom, and not only prevent thee from being 
 so serviceable in thy day, as otherwise thou might be, 
 but be a bar in the way of thy peace here, and hereafter. 
 I believe that a further advance, on thy part, must be 
 made, in order to make thee a free man, and enable thee 
 to sing on the banks of deliverance. I apprehend thou 
 art chargeable with several omissions which require 
 attention. 
 
 In the first place I conclude thy poor blacks have 
 been generally brought up in ignorance ; neither taught 
 to read or write — nor have had any proper instruction in 
 the principles of the Christian religion. Abraham in- 
 structed his household, and commanded them after him, 
 that they might keep the way of the Lord, to do justice 
 and judgment. This poor people being brought by foice 
 into a strange land, and kept in bondage, have no way 
 to get learning, or to reci;ive instruction frun man, 
 without the allowance or assistance of those who hold 
 
92 APPENDIX. 
 
 them as slaves. The Degrees are rational creatures, and 
 as acoountable to their Maker, as white men and women 
 are. Why then should they not have the same advan- 
 tages of learning and instruction that we have ? Why 
 should not they be as carefully informed that there is a 
 God, and that He is to be worshipped, feared and 
 obeyed by all his rational family ? that we and they are 
 all favored with " a manifestation of his holy spirit to 
 profit withal"? And why should they not be pressed 
 to a close attention, and obedience to its directions ? In- 
 asmuch as we profess to believe that '*God is a spirit," 
 and that the worship which is acceptable to him, must 
 be performed " in Spirit and in truth," and may be 
 performed in silently waiting upon him, why should not 
 thej/ be so instructed as well as our own children ? and 
 why not (as well as they) be constantly taken to meet- 
 ings while they are young, in order that they may not 
 depart from so good a way, when they are old ? These 
 things are worthy our serious consideration, and close 
 examination, that those who take upon them the charge 
 of bringing up numbers of their fellow-men, may see 
 how fir short they may be of a faithful discharge of duty 
 towards them. I am sensible that negro-masters object 
 to this, saying, that their colored children are not wil- 
 ling to go to Friends' meeting ! But consider the reason 
 of such unwillingness ! Is it not because they have not 
 been brought up in the way they ought to walk in ? But 
 whatever their objection may be, it ought not to be an 
 excuse for the omission of a religious duty. 
 
 In the next place, some are unjustly held in bondage 
 for the term of life, others many years after they ought 
 to be free : and so the poor are (»ppressed, and labor ex- 
 torted from them by force, which is the height of injus- 
 tice ! If negro-masters would weightily consider that 
 precept of our Lord, which is short and easily understood, 
 ** W^hatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do 
 ye even so to them," they would easily discover that 
 they would not be willing, either that thei/ or their 
 
APPENDIX. 93 
 
 children should be brought up iu total ignorance, kept in 
 bondage for life, obliged to labor all their da}'s for no- 
 thing but a poor, hard, coarse living; with mean food, 
 worse clothing, and lodging still worse ! and after all to 
 die with the prospect of leaving their posterity to the 
 children of their oppressors from generation to generation 
 forever. 
 
 Solomon says, " he that oppresseth the poor to increase 
 his riches, shall surely come to want;" suppose he wholly 
 alluded to outward want, I think it should be suflBcient 
 to deter any one from such injustice : but that will not 
 be the only want which shall overtake them that op- 
 press the poor. 
 
 Slave-keepers are extortioners, to all intents and pur- 
 poses ; and what must be the end of the extortioner? I 
 would ask, if it be possible that a man of understanding 
 could bring himself to believe, that it is not oppression to 
 deprive a man of his liberty, and force him to labor all his 
 days, with rigor, for nothing ? Or are people at this 
 day determined to disregard the sentence of the Almighty 
 against extortioners, which solemnly declares that " no 
 extortioner shall inherit the kingdom of God." If the 
 usage generally extended to tlie negroes, be not " ex- 
 tortion/' I know not where to look for anything that 
 deserves the name ! 
 
 I cannot suppose, that at this time of the day I need 
 use art/uments to convince thee of the evil of slave-keep- 
 ing. Ohedience is what I judge to be wanting; and it is 
 sorrowful to think, that people should go on in the way 
 they know to be wrong. I doubt not that thou hast 
 seen the error of the practice, at many times; and if thy 
 sight is now clouded and darkened it is to be lamented; 
 but if thy eyes are now open to see the subject in its 
 true light, as a practice alt(tgether inconsistent with the 
 spirit of Christianity, I beseech thee not to dally, or put 
 it off any longer. Do justice without delay. Don't hesi- 
 tate about the value of thy slaves, neither boggle at the 
 law, saying, *'if I set them free the public will take them, 
 
94 APPENDIX. 
 
 and sell thorn into worse slavery, and it will be bard that 
 the poor negroes should suffer by my act." I fully be- 
 lieve if thou could see the danger of thy present state, 
 and could hiy aside the influence of pecuniary mferest, 
 so as to be fully resigned, and willing to part with all for 
 the Truth's sake, a way would be made for thy escape 
 and for the safety of the negroes also. If the Lord re- 
 quires thee to set thy slaves free, obey him promptly, 
 and leave the result to him, and peace shall be within thy 
 borders 
 
 I am aware that there are many difficulties in thy way. 
 Thy slaves are very numerous. Some are too old to labor, 
 some in their prime, and some too young to work. Thou 
 mayest and probably dost say, '' What can I do with 
 them ? how can I dispose of them better than by keeping 
 them and using them kindly ?" 
 
 Let us suppose that thou hast an hundred of them ; 
 that twenty of them are old, and partly unfit to labor; 
 thsit forty of them are too young to earn their living, and 
 forty of them in their prime for labor. Tbou mayest set 
 the old ones free, and obligate thyself and thy estate to 
 maintain them well, and use them kindly the remainder 
 of their days. Those in their prime, give to them a full 
 discharge from all future service, and to those of them 
 who have served thee after they were of age, pay them 
 for thatservice honestly, and thereby put them into a way 
 of getting their living. This will be just, and is un- 
 doubtedly thy duty. Let the young ones be all manumit- 
 ted; and put it out of thy own power, and the power of thy 
 heirs, to take them back into bondage, after they are 
 of age. And let them all be taught to read, and write, 
 and understand arithmetic. " Train them up in the way 
 they should go," keep th m constantly to religious meet- 
 ings, on the first and other d;iys of the week, even as thou 
 wouldst have thy own children dealt with; then, when 
 they arrive at maturity, they will be prepared for free- 
 dom ; and when all this is done, or rightly in the way to 
 be accomplished, thou wiU be a free man. 
 
APPENDIX. 95 
 
 As for thy past errors and deficiencies in holding 
 them as slaves, and bringing them up in ignorance, 
 before thy own mind was so fully enlightened on these 
 suiijects, perhaps that may be pa>sed by ; for God may 
 wink at errors committed in the days of our ignorance. 
 But without a submission on thy part to a course of 
 action such, or nearly such, as I have mentioned, I cannot 
 believe thy state a safe one. Even if it should require 
 all thy estate to relieve thee from slaveholding, and 
 thereby thou could.st obtain lasting peace, I think it would 
 be a happy exchange. The great object of my writing to 
 thee at this time is that pi ace may be thy portion forever. 
 In thy case it is my solid judgment that slave-keeping is 
 a sin ; and Christ said, if men die in their sins where he 
 is gone they cannot come. 
 
 Tliou may think it strange that I carry my judgment 
 80 far as to think there is no hope for the slaveholder 
 that he niay obtain peace ! But if Justice is equally dae 
 to the black man and the white one, I cannot see room 
 to hope for those who daily live in the violation of every 
 rule of justice toward the colored man ; for this is daily 
 to rob them of their rights, of their property, and of their 
 liberty also. If they were to treat thee or me so, we 
 should find no diffiL-ulty in pronouncing judgment against 
 them, as wicked and unjust men. 
 
 The prophet, in the name of the Lord, said, ''"Wo unto 
 him that buildeth his house by unrighteousness, and his 
 chambers by wrong ; that useth his neighbor's service 
 without wages, and giveth him not for his work." And 
 in what does not slavery come up to this case ? Does it 
 not even exceed it ? for the people to whom the prophet 
 spake, did not hold their neighbors in perpetual slavery! 
 but only cheated them out of some of their labor ! 
 
 I am concerned for thee, however well thou may est 
 think of thyself, and of thy present situation. I think it 
 nece-savy for thee to look about thee, to leave nothing un- 
 done, that can be done, fur the deliverance of the poor 
 from bonds and oppression, and thyself from danger of 
 
96 APPENDIX. 
 
 losing thy peace. I would advise thee to walk softly the 
 remainder of thy days, be they many or few. Humble 
 thyself before the Lord, while the door of mercy is open, 
 as I hope it yet is. Do what thou canst to set a good 
 example to thy children and neighbors, in relation to the 
 emancipation of thy slaves ; for thy day is hastening over, 
 and it would be a dreadful thing to die and leave all thy 
 colored people in slavery to thy posterity. It would be 
 better to leave thy children beggars I Remember Zac- 
 cheus; he was made willing to restore four-fold to any he 
 might have wronged, beside giving half his goods to the 
 poor ; and Jesus said to him, " this day has salvation 
 come to thy house." I hardly know how to stop, but time 
 fails me. 1 would desire thee not to think lightly of the 
 hints I have given thee, for I believe they are important 
 to the welfare of thee and thy family. 
 From thy friend 
 
 David Ferkis. 
 
 The following letter from Robert Pleasants was writ- 
 ten nearly three years after the foregoing was written to 
 him by David Ferris, and furnishes cause to believe that 
 the seed sown by the latter, under deep concern for his 
 friend, was not unfruitful. 
 
 Virginia, Curles, 9th mo. 11, 1777. 
 Esteemed friend, Samuel R Fisher, — A favorable 
 opportunity offering by our friends John Crew a d 
 Gerard Eilyson, who propose to attend your Yearly 
 Meeting, I sit down in consequence of thy request and 
 in compliance with my promise, to advise thee how far 
 I have proceeded in the business of manumitting the 
 slaves under my care; and can with a degree of satis- 
 faction say that I have so far completed it as that I be- 
 lieve there is not more than five or six remaining, who, 
 
APPENDIX. 97 
 
 being children, and living at a distance, I neither knew 
 their ages nor the names of some of them till within a 
 few days. I intend shortly to finish that business, and 
 trust to consequences, believing that He who hath called 
 to the work will prosper it, notwithstanding the oppo- 
 sition which some violent spirits have made and seem 
 still disposed to make. I may further inform thee 
 that divers Friends of late have given up, and others 
 seem freely disposed to give up, their negroes, so that 
 should our Assembly (which by adjournment meets, I 
 think, the 10th of next month) repeal the unrighteous 
 law against their freedom, as some expect, I hope Friends 
 in a general way will not only be relieved from the bur- 
 then, but have the satisfaction to see many others of them 
 act as useful members of society in a state of freedom. 
 Thy assured friend, 
 
 Robert Pleasants, 
 
 Wilmington y* 12tli of 1st mo., 1768. 
 My dear young friend, Ann Taylor : — 
 
 During the short period of our acquaintance I have 
 felt for thee that love and good-will which desires thy 
 well being here and hereafter. I wish to encourage thee 
 to set out betimes on that long journey which requires 
 the whole term of life to perform, to the greatest advan- 
 tage. The sooner the work is begun the better for 
 thee, because, in early life, there are not so many 
 hindcrances, arising from wrong habits, and an alienation 
 of mind from divine good. The heavenly hand has been 
 extended iu love, to gather thee from all empty enjoy- 
 ments into the fold of peace. " Now is the accepted 
 time," while thou art called and invited, and drawn by 
 the cords of Divine love : that love which is the mark 
 of discipleship in the church of Christ. I believe thou 
 hast felt it. The Truth has appeared beautiful in thy 
 9 
 
08 APPENDIX. 
 
 siglit^ and those who are travelling in the way of 
 peace, have been objects of thy near affection. I much 
 desire that thou mayest be made a partaker with them in 
 the joys that abide forever. These are they that receive 
 ^' an hundred fold " of enjoyment in this life, and in 
 that which is to come life everlasting. 
 
 When my attention has been turned toward thee, of 
 latter time, my mind has been invested with concern, 
 and a strong desire for thy preservation in the right way; 
 and particularly in relation to thy marriage. A married 
 state is the most desirable, and most comfortable of all 
 states, provided we enter it, as the apostle says, '' Oiily 
 in the Lord:" that is, as 1 understand him, under (7mwe 
 direction, to the right person, at the right time, and in 
 the right way. But of that person, time, and way, un- 
 instructed by divine wisdom, we are by no means com- 
 petent to judge. Without such direction we must proceed 
 in the dark, and shall be mure likely to miss the right 
 object, than to attain it. Those who miss it, mostly make 
 unto themselves a rough uneasy path to walk in, and 
 always an unsafe one. When men and women are not 
 rightly joined, and losses, crosses and disappointments 
 occur, there will be a disposition to blame each other, — 
 sometimes to wish they had never seen one another — 
 and, in times of great trial, even to express that wish. 
 I have knoirn such thinf/s; and where the union has no 
 deeper foundation than mere natural affection, better 
 cannot be reasonably expected. Those who marry from 
 motives of convenience, or with selfish views, frequently 
 pass along through life in discord and uneasiness, and 
 often lay a foundation for more lasting uuhappiness. 
 The uneasiness of their state makes them frettui, and 
 being without any sure anchor to the mind, they are tossed 
 about hither and thither; rather prepared to hinder than 
 help one another in their religious progress. Ihis state 
 it is fearful to contemplate, and the earnest prayer of my 
 soul has been^ that thou mayest escape the danger of a 
 
APPENDIX. 99 
 
 connection with an unsuitable companion, in bonds wbich 
 death only can dissolve. 
 
 On the other hand, if the great end of our creation 
 becomes the prinuirj object of concern, — if we " seek 
 first the kino'dom of God and his righteousness," and 
 obtain it — if we keep near our divine Director, and proceed 
 in the holy fear, we shall have no cause to dread the 
 event, either in reference to the temper and disposition 
 of our allotted companion, or to the means of a comfort- 
 able subsistence. They who are thus happily united, 
 will go along the road of life, rejoicing in that they are 
 joined together in the will of heaven ; and when losses, 
 and disappointments, and afflictions overtake them, they 
 will sympathize with each other, and freely help to bear 
 one another's burdens. Oh, how blessed are they who 
 are thus joined, — how happy for themselves and their 
 posterity. How instructive to their children to see their 
 parents' constant care to promote each other's happiness, 
 — to see them concerned, by circumspect walking, to set 
 in all things a good example to their family, and those 
 who dwell round about them. To these the promise is 
 fulfilled appertaining to those who first seek the heavenly 
 riches, that all necessaru things shall be superadded. 
 
 Dear Ann, although thou mayest resist the heavenly 
 call, and fail to obtain the blessing intended, yet I hope 
 better things of thee, and things that accompany salva- 
 tion. Life and death are set before thee. Life is 
 offered, — therefore, I beseech thee, choose life and live. 
 In order to obtain it, and to grow in it, we must be sober, 
 humble, self-denying, and abide under the cross of Christ. 
 We must not live at ease, or in an unconcerned state. 
 We must not love the world, nor take delight in earthly 
 things. It is now a time of divine visitation, — a day of 
 love to thy soul, in which thou mayest be gathered into 
 the heavenly fold. It would be cause of great joy to me 
 to see and hear of thy obedience to the cross of Christ, 
 — to know that thou art concerned to come forward in 
 the discharge of every Christian duty. On the contrary, 
 
100 APPENDIX. 
 
 it would be exceedingly sorrowful to see or hear of thy 
 falling away from the Truth. Now is the time, — a time 
 of love, and undoubtedly thy best time. Do not let it 
 pass away unimproved. Let not the world, nor the 
 things of the world divert thy attention from seeking 
 after "the one thing needful," "that good part 
 which shall not be taken away :" for what prijfit would 
 it be, to gain all the wealth, the pleasures, and honors of 
 the world ; and thereby lose thy own soul. Oh, dread- 
 ful loss ! I tremble at the thought of it. I have much 
 love in my heart, and good-will towards thee; I therefore 
 press these things upon thy attention. 
 
 Present my kind love to thy dear mother, and to John 
 Carter's family. 
 
 From thy assured friend, 
 
 David Ferris. 
 
 Wilmington, y« 1st of 9th mo. 1772. 
 Dear Friend Catharine Halloch, at Newhurg : — 
 
 Thine, dated the 3d of 8th mo. 1772, is just now re- 
 ceived. I take it very kind of thee that thou hast re- 
 membered us in this way, and gladly accept the favor. 
 The reading of tby letter recalled to memory, in a very 
 lively manner, the near unity and fellowship felt and en- 
 joyed with thee and thy father's family, when with you 
 at Newburg. And I believe if you live near the Truth 
 with which you have been favored, you will be made a 
 blessing to your neighborhood, and be iostrumental in 
 spreading tlie divine light to and among the poor be- 
 nighted inhabitants of your vicinity. 
 
 When with you, dear Catharine, I thought I felt the 
 divine goodness, and heavenly regard, extended towards 
 thee in a particular manner, in order for thy help, hoping 
 thou mayest be preserved near the spring of life, so as to 
 become an instrument of good to others. The Lord has 
 
APPENDIX. 101 
 
 been good to thee. He has blessings in store for those 
 ■who keep near him and turn away from other lovers. My 
 dear friend, ''keep thy heart with all diligence, for out 
 of it are the issues of life." The heavenly fountain is 
 open for thee to bathe in. Do not forget the goodness of 
 God, vrhich was eminently extended to all of us, and par- 
 ticularly to thyself, at the last sitting we had in your fa- 
 mily. It was a time of extraordinary favor. The Lord 
 was very kind and gracious to you; and will ever be so, 
 if you mind the light which has shone upon you, and 
 continue to walk in it. Beware of forgetfulness. Do 
 not forget the Lord, but often think upon his name. I 
 believe that many, by living at ease, and neglecting to 
 watch against temptation ; lose sight of the heavenly 
 riches; and not a few, by letting their minds run after 
 earthly things, are finally lost. 
 
 My dear friend, it is a great favor to feel the love of 
 God uniting us together. If we dwell in it we must ne- 
 cessarily love one another, whether present or absent, to- 
 gether or separate. All the faithful are children of one 
 Father, and his uniting love and virtue flows from one of 
 them to another, by the feeling of which we know that 
 we have passed from death unto life. By this "love of 
 the brethren," all men may know that we are disciples of 
 Christ. Let us cherish it, and live in it. There is noth- 
 ing; so excellent, so beautiful, so engaiiinfri as this hea- 
 veuly uniting love. I thought many times, when lately 
 travelling among you, that the near affection and unity I 
 felt for, and with some of my dear brethren and sisters, 
 were an ample compensation for all the trouble and fa- 
 tigue I endured. I long for the salvation of all njy fel- 
 low men, and that they may come to knowexperimentallj 
 what this love and unity is, by their effects. The worla, 
 or those who are at friendship with the world, know noth- 
 ing of it, — neither can they know it, until they come out 
 of the world. All the living members of the Church of 
 Christ experience something of it, and the nearer we live 
 to the Truth the more we shall know of it. Therefore 
 9* 
 
102 APPENDIX. 
 
 let us so live that we may be as Epistles written in one 
 aoottier's hearts. 
 
 I have often thought of thee and the other members 
 of your family since 1 saw you, and should rejoice to see 
 you again. As that may never be in this state of being, 
 I pray that we may all >so walk, and so live in the Lord's 
 fear, that we may meet hereafter in peace; for that is the 
 ultimate object of our creation, as well as of all the bless- 
 ings conferred upon us, in our passage through time. 
 
 I was much pleased on receiving a letter from thee, and 
 shall be glad to receive a few lines from thee or any of 
 the family, letting me know of your health, and the state 
 of affairs among you, and the few Friends, situated near 
 the residence of thy sister Sands. 
 
 My dear friend, my heart flows with love and good will 
 towards thee, with earnest desire for thy help and preser- 
 vation. My dear love is to thy father and mother, bro- 
 thers and sisters. 
 
 From thy well wishing friend, 
 
 David Ferris. 
 
 N. B. Samuel Neale is lately gone to Ireland, and he 
 desired me, when I wrote to any of our friends, to give 
 his kind love to them. 
 
 D. F. 
 
 Extract of a letter to David Ferris, Jr. 
 Wilmington, y« 10th of 8th mo. 1773. 
 Dear Cousin, David Ferris : — 
 
 My mind was impressed some days past, with concern 
 for thee as a near kinsman ; remembering that as our 
 works shall be here, so must be our reward hereafter and 
 forever. I apprehend that thou hast not been earnestly 
 concerned to be prepared for thy latter end, but hast been 
 diverting thyself with the pleasant things of this life, 
 
APPENDIX. 108 
 
 delighting in airy unprofitable company. Now, in the 
 common course of things, thy days are half spent, and 
 perhaps much more thau half spent, and if thou should 
 be shortly called upon to give up thy stewardship, and 
 not be ready for it, how fearful would be thy situation ! 
 We all have a great work to do, and the whole of our 
 lives will not be more than sufficient for its accomplish- 
 ment. If half thy life, or more than half of it, be al- 
 ready spent, and little or none of that work done, it is 
 high time now to begin it in earnest. Oh, spend no more 
 of thy precious time in wantonness and forgetfulness of 
 God. Remember, that in order to be saved we must all 
 be turned from darkness to light, — must pass from death 
 unto life, — must be born again and become new crea- 
 tures. We must cease to do evil, otherwise we cannot 
 learn to do well, consequently cannot be happy. '^ Without 
 holiness," said the apostle, "no man shall see the Lord.'' 
 We must, therefore, become holy in all manner of conver- 
 sation. Those who are living in pleasure, gratifying their 
 sensual appetites, are dead while they live. They who 
 are delighting themselves in vanity, pleasing themselves 
 with all the gaieties of life, are not walking iu the nar* 
 row way, which only " leads to life " and peace : The 
 other way, which is broad and easy to the flesh, our Lord 
 declares " leadeth to destruction." Death and darkness 
 will be the end and certain consequence of continuing in 
 that way. Considering the uncertainty of life, it is a 
 concern of vast importance to know that our day's work 
 is going on with the day, for the night cometh, and is 
 rapidly aproaching to us all, when no man can work. 
 
 I have a strong desire, that thou, my dear cousin, and 
 all my relations in your part of the country, may be ef- 
 fectually roused to a solid consideration of this momen- 
 tous subject. *' One thing is needful :" and I greatly de- 
 sire that thou mayest choost; that good part which cau 
 never be taken from thee. The apostle, iu a solemn man- 
 ner, declares, '' If ye live after the flesh ye sh-iU die, but 
 if ye, through the spirit, do mortify the deeds of the 
 
104 APPENDIX. 
 
 body, ye shall live;" and Christ says, '^ whosoever doth 
 not bear his cross, and come after me cannot be my disci- 
 ple." These are the unalterable terms of salvation — the 
 only way to peace here, and everlasting felicity in the 
 life which is to come. 
 
 Now I desire thee and all my relations to consider these 
 things in a solid, weighty manner. Do not make a light 
 matter of that which is of everlasting importance^ but 
 examine the subject closely, — ponder it solemnly. See 
 whether you are denying yourselves, — and taking up your 
 cross daily; without which you cannot lay hold of the 
 everlusting crown. 
 
 My kind love and hearty good wishes are to and for you 
 all, desiring you may live and die in peace. From thy 
 uncle, 
 
 David Ferris. 
 
 Wilmington, y^ 20th of 3d mo. 1777. 
 Resipected Friend, Moses Brown : — 
 
 After kind love presented to thee, thy mother, and sis- 
 ter Mary, with all thy family, this may inform that John 
 Perry and I have received our Certificate, which we un- 
 derstand came through thy hands to William Wilson. 
 William writes to me that the people on Rhode Island 
 are under difficulties owing to the quartering of soldiers 
 upon them. There have been no very heavy burdens 
 laid on us here, in that way ; but we have had a great 
 many sick soldiers among us, and hundreds of them have 
 died of the camp fever. Several of the inhabitants have 
 taken it from them, and have also died. 
 
 When opportunity offers I should be glad to hear what 
 has become of poor T. D. — whether he has come down 
 from his lofty seat and high imaginations, so as to submit 
 to the advice of his best friends. Having myself been 
 favored with a heavenly visitation, and called out of the 
 
APPENDIX. 105 
 
 forms and outside shows of religion, into an acquaint- 
 ance, in some measure, with the divine substance, I am 
 often thoughtful about and concerned for others, who 
 have heard and obeyed the call. And I think I may just 
 say I have felt and do feel some desires for the prosperity 
 of Truth in your part of the country, and especially for 
 the preservation of such as have been convinced of the 
 Truth, and obeyed the heavenly call, so as to turn their 
 backs upon the fading pleasures of this world : such as 
 have denied themselves, and have taken up the cross, so 
 as to have come away from the barren mountains of an 
 empty profession, and become fools for Christ's sake. I 
 greatly desire you may all steadily persevere in the way 
 that will end in peace. I have found by experience that 
 being convinced of the principle of Truth, and forsaking 
 the vanities of the world, and seeing the emptiness of all 
 external forms of religion, and turning from them, and 
 joining with those who worship God in spirit and in 
 truth (as to the outward fellowship) is not sufficient for 
 salvation, without coming into Christ 'Uhe true vine," 
 and truly abiding in him, so as to receive nourishment 
 from him, and life daily springing up through him. I 
 cannot therefore well do less than press all Friends who 
 have been lately convinced of the blessed Truth, to 
 dwell low, under a daily concern and care to shun the 
 friendships of the world, — to take heed to themselves, — 
 to look to their standing, — to their living, and walking, 
 as becomes an enlightened people, who have been visited 
 by the Dayspring from on high, to give light to them 
 that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death ; — re- 
 membering that they are no longer safe than during their 
 continuance in a low state, — in a life of self denial under 
 the Cross of Christ. 
 
 The apostle tells us that, it had been better for us not 
 to have known the way of Righteousness, than after we 
 have known it to turn from the holy commandment. 
 
 I thought it could not be amiss to give a caution oa 
 this wise, though I hope better things of many of you, 
 
106 APPENDIX. 
 
 who have been blessed with a visitation of light and life, 
 than that you should turn back and forsake the way of 
 Truth : — but some have done so, and others may do so ; 
 and as it is of the utmost consequence to us, that we con- 
 tinue steadfast to the end, love moves me thus to write. 
 Let us take the apostle's advice to the Galatians, '' Stand 
 fast, therefore, in the liberty wherewith Christ has made 
 us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bon- 
 dage." We have many enemies that oppose our progress 
 heavenward. There is no safety unless we keep upon the 
 watch tower, and dwell near the fountain of life. If that 
 be our constant care, we shall become as lights to the 
 world; as the salt of the earth, as a city set upon a 
 hill which cannot be hid. We shall be as way-marks to 
 others,— as good examples to the flock, — all which is re- 
 quired of those whose eyes have been opened to see the 
 beauty there is in the Truth. If you who have received 
 the anointing, are faithful to the manifestations of di- 
 vine Grace, you will be made instrumental in spreading 
 its holy influence among the people. The heavenly re- 
 gard is toward the people of Providence and parts adja- 
 cent. It is a day of visitation to the several professions, 
 and I believe more will be manifest, if those who are en- 
 lightened walk worthy of their vocation, and dwell in a 
 grateful sense of the blessings received. 
 From thy well-wishing friend, 
 
 David Ferris. 
 
938.96 
 
 r-l 
 
 CO r^ :^ 
 ro v^ UJ