Christian Classics
‹ History of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Volume III. Chapter 8. From the Close of the General Conference of 1824 to the Commencement of That of 1828. · Part 3

Nathan Bangs · 21 of 28

Chapter 8. From the Close of the General Conference of 1824 to the Commencement of That of 1828. · Part 3

There were several refreshing of religion this year in some of the older circuits, more particularly in the south and west, where the principal increase of members was found. These revivals were accompanied by the same evidence of divine power and which had attended those heretofore related, and gave to the friends of religion irrefutable arguments in their favor. At a camp meeting held on Hanover circuit, in Virginia, there were not less than one hundred and twenty souls who professed to find the pearl of great price, and the good work spread with such rapidity that upward of three hundred were brought to God on this circuit. On the Bottetourt circuit similar results followed two camp meetings which were held there this year. In Anne Arundel county, Maryland, there were mighty displays of the power of God. The work commenced at a camp meeting held at a place called Rattlesnake Springs. It was believed that not less than two hundred and fifty persons were brought from darkness to light, and several professed to be filled with “perfect love,” while many departed from the place under deep for sin, and groaning for in the blood of the Lamb.

Though these and other instances of revival were witnessed during the year, yet the general increase of Church members was not so great as the year before.

The New England conference had succeeded in establishing an academy within its bounds, for the education of youth of both sexes, in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, and the one at Newmarket was merged in this. It was this year put under the charge of the Rev. Wilbur Fisk, by whose pious and judicious management it greatly prospered, and was soon filled with students, and has been instrumental in shedding the lights of literature and religion on the rising generation. Here young gentlemen are taught all those branches of literature preparatory to an entrance into college, or upon the active business of life, at the same time that the principles of the gospel are faithfully inculcated; and the institution has been frequently favored with gracious outpourings of the Spirit, resulting in the of many of the students.

The Pittsburgh conference made an attempt to establish a collegiate institution within its bounds, called Madison College, and the Rev. Henry B. Bascom was appointed its president. It was located in Uniontown, Fayette county, in the state of Pennsylvania. It went into operation under favorable auspices, and was incorporated, in 1827, by the legislature of the state. It did not, however, long continue. Its endowment was small, and the number of students was by no means adequate to its support. Hence, though blessed with an able faculty, its dissolution affords another evidence of the impracticability of sustaining collegiate institutions without ample endowments. How else can this be done? The price of tuition is necessarily so low, in the various literary institutions in our country, that an attempt to raise it sufficiently high to meet the expense of tuition and other incidental expenses would be to debar all students from an entrance into their inclosures; and it is equally impossible to sustain them from the ordinary prices of tuition and board; and hence the absolute necessity of ample endowments, either from the state, or from the benefactions of individuals, or by the more sure method of annual collections, in order to keep them in successful operation. Of this all must be sensible, and therefore all who feel an interest in the prosperity of these institutions must, if they would have them permanently established, contribute liberally for their support.

In the month of September this year was commenced the publication of the Christian Advocate, a weekly periodical, devoted especially to the interests of the Methodist Episcopal Church and to general intelligence. Periodical literature had become more and more in demand since the recommencement of the Methodist Magazine, and weekly religious newspapers were springing into existence among almost all denominations of Christians; and two, one in Boston, Mass., and another in Charleston, S. C., were published under the patronage of their respective conferences, and the friends of the Church very generally seemed to call for one to be issued from the Book Room. This led to a consultation among the editors and book committee, together with some of the annual conferences; the proposition was finally submitted to the New York conference, at its session in May of this year, and it recommended that measures be adopted for the publication of such a periodical with all convenient speed.

It is true, some were opposed to the measure, particularly those who were interested in the success of the papers already in existence, which had now obtained an extensive circulation, particularly Zion’s Herald, the one issued in Boston. This opposition, however, was overruled, and the first number of the Christian Advocate was published on the 9th of September, 1826.

The appearance of this weekly sheet, filled, as it was, with useful and interesting matter, gave great satisfaction to the members and friends of our Church, and the number of subscribers in a very short time amounted to about thirty thousand. That it has done much good, and was most opportunely commenced, has been abundantly demonstrated in every successive year of its circulation, and by the testimony of thousands of its readers. By this means intelligence is received from every part of the world, and conveyed, weekly, as from a common center of information, to its thousands of readers in every comer of the land. Thus old friends, who may be separated at a distance of thousands of miles, may hear from each other, interchange sentiments, and, in some sense, converse together of each other’s welfare; and what the Lord is doing in one part of his vineyard may be known in every other part. This is the advantage which a general possesses over a local paper. This was extensively felt and appreciated, and hence its circulation, in the course of one year from its commencement, by far exceeded every other paper, religious or secular, published in the United States.

Sixty-three preachers located this year, sixty-six were returned supernumerary, eighty-six superannuated, two withdrew, and six were expelled; twenty had died.

Among the deaths recorded this year was that of John Summerfield, whose eminent talents as a preacher gave him a commanding attitude before the community, and excited a general tone of regret when the news of his death was announced. For a full account of his life and labors I must refer the reader to his biography, which was published by his brother-in-law soon after his death. From this it appears that he was born in the town of Preston, in England, on the 31st of January, 1795. His father was a local preacher in the Wesleyan Methodist connection in England, and he educated his son John in those religious principles which governed his own heart and life. At a suitable age he was put under the tuition of the Moravian academy at Fairfield, near Manchester, where he gave early indications of that precocious genius for which he was afterward so eminently distinguished.

In 1813 the family removed to Ireland, where, at the age of seventeen, young Summerfield was made a partaker of grace through faith in Jesus Christ while attending a prayer meeting with some pious Methodist soldiers. He no sooner tasted that the Lord is gracious than he felt a desire that others should participate with him in the same inestimable blessing. He accordingly embraced every opportunity to invite his fellow-sinners to come to the fountain of salvation, that they might drink of its waters and live for ever. In this way he continued to exercise his gifts, greatly to the satisfaction of those who heard him, until 1819, when he was received on trial in the Methodist conference of Ireland. As it was a time of some trouble among the Methodist societies in Ireland in those days, and as the of his spirit and powers of pulpit oratory gave him more than ordinary influence, young as he was, he was selected to travel extensively through the country, for the purpose of promoting the general interests of the societies. He continued to travel and preach in Ireland, making, in the mean time, an occasional visit to England, until 1821, when his father removed to America, and John accompanied him, and was received on trial in the New York conference in the spring of 1821.

His first appearance in public after his arrival in New York was at the anniversary of the American Bible Society, and his speech on that occasion was received with great elation, and gave him a most favorable introduction to the American community. Nor were his labors in the pulpit unappreciated. The houses were thronged with hearers whenever he preached, and the auditors hung upon his lips with the most intense interest and delight. Persons of all professions and of all classes of society were attracted by the fame of his eloquence, and expressed their admiration of the power with which he enchained them to the words which dropped from his lips.

Many have inquired in what the secret of this power over the understandings and attention of the multitude consisted. In whatever else it might have consisted, it was not in empty declamations, in boisterous harangues, nor yet in any attempt to overpower and astonish you with sudden bursts of eloquence; nor was it, I apprehend, in the unusual depth. and profoundness of his researches.

Summerfield was young, was pious, honest, and simple-hearted, was naturally eloquent, deeply devoted to the cause of God, possessed a great command of language, and his style of preaching was chaste and classical, flowing from him with an easy and graceful elocution. This I believe to be the secret of his power. He had a sound understanding, a warm heart, and a vivid imagination — had acquired a rich stock of the most useful knowledge and hence, whenever he spoke in the name of God, he poured forth from a heart overflowing with the kindliest feelings a stream of evangelical truth, which fell upon the audience “like dew upon the under herb, and like rain upon the mown grass.” A “godly sincerity” was evidently the pervading principle of his heart, and a tone of simplicity characterized his style of preaching. When you heard him you were charmed with the melody of his voice, with the rich flow of his language, with the pure and evangelical sentiments which he uttered, and with the deep spirit of piety running through his whole performance. No strained efforts to dazzle you with wit, or with high-sounding words, with pompous periods, with far-fetched metaphors, or with sentences swelled and encumbered with an accumulation of epithets, appeared in any of his discourses or speeches. On the contrary, you felt that you were listening to a messenger of God, honestly proclaiming what he believed to be the truth, in language chaste and elegant, flowing from a heart filled with his subject, breathing good-will to his audience, and intent only on doing them good. This was John Summerfield in the pulpit; and his popularity arose from an active zeal, exemplified in his spirit and words, to promote the best interests of all classes of men by the wisest possible means.

Nor was his society in the more private circles less attractive and instructive. On his first appearance among us there was a modesty and diffidence, a and humility, every way becoming a Christian and a young minister who felt a proper deference for his seniors. To say that he did not, in some measure at least, rise in self-confidence with the rising popularity of his character, would be saying what no one acquainted with human nature could well believe. But the elevation of his character, as a preacher of the gospel, gave him a commanding attitude before the community, which he constantly exerted to promote the highest interests of his fellow-men. He certainly bore his honors with becoming modesty, and availed himself of his great popularity to advance the honor of God and the salvation of men. Though the minister of a sect, and thoroughly imbued with its doctrine and spirit, he was far from being exclusive in his feelings and views, hut displayed that spirit of Catholicism which enabled him to exert a hallowing influence on all around him. And while he must have carried about him the common infirmities of our nature, they were but as occasional spots upon the sun they obscured his luster but, for a moment, and then his intellectual, moral, and religious excellences shone out with an increasing and a steady brilliancy:

He most certainly exerted a beneficial influence upon the interests of true religion. Nor was this influence confined to his own Church. Other denominations, and particularly the various charitable and religious associations, availed themselves of his talents to advocate their cause and to promote their respective objects. And as he was ever ready to comply with their wishes, as before said, his physical powers were not adequate to the task of such continued application. The fire which burned within became so intense that the material vessel was gradually weakened by its consuming flames. He was at first prostrated by a hemorrhage of the lungs, from which, however, he partially recovered, so as to be able to appear occasionally in public. But his appearance was extremely wan and feeble, while his soul still broke forth in those strains of gospel truth and persuasive eloquence which captivated his hearers and melted them into tenderness.

It was hoped by his friends that a voyage to Europe might tend to reinvigorate his enfeebled constitution. He accordingly made a voyage to France, and attended the anniversary of the Paris Bible Society as a representative of the American Bible Society, where he delivered one of those addresses for which he was so peculiarly qualified, as the zealous and able advocate of institutions of benevolence. This address, which was interpreted by Mr. Wilder, an American gentleman, and a benevolent Christian, then residing in Paris, was received with enthusiastic admiration by the audience, and responded to in terms of affectionate respect and congratulation, expressive of the joy that was felt in the union of sentiment and effort which mutually pervaded and actuated the Paris and American Bible Societies.

On his return from his foreign tour he entertained hopes, for a season, that his health might be restored; but these hopes were soon blasted by the return of his disease, accompanied by those symptoms which gave sure indications to his physicians and friends that his dissolution was at hand. After lingering for a considerable time, frequently suffering exquisitely from the violence of his disorder, he at last glided sweetly and peacefully into eternity, in the twenty-eighth year of his age, and the eighth of his public ministry.

During his protracted illness he exhibited the virtues of meekness and patience in an eminent degree, bowing submissively to the divine mandate, and looking forward with a lively hope to immortality and eternal life. Though sometimes he complained of the want of spiritual consolation, and of a feeling of mental gloom which arose, no doubt, from the nature of his disease yet for most of the time he manifested an unshaken confidence in his God, and expressed a calm resignation to his will, mingled with a hope full of immortality. But he rests from his labors, and his works of faith and labors of love have followed him as evidences of his fidelity to the cause of God.

Another who fell in the harness this year was an old veteran of the cross of Christ, whose long services and deep devotion to the cause of God deserve commemoration.

Daniel Asbury had been in the ministry forty years, during which time he had given evidence of his warm attachment to the holy cause he had espoused, by the fidelity with which he had discharged his Christian and ministerial duties. He was not, indeed, a great preacher, but he was remarkably distinguished for the meekness of his disposition, for his patience in suffering, and for the simplicity of his manners. He therefore won the confidence of his brethren as a man of God, and a most devoted minister of Jesus Christ.

His death was sudden and peaceful. Returning from a walk in the yard, he looked up toward heaven, with a smile on his countenance, and uttering a few words, he sunk into the arms of death, in the sixty-fifth year of his age.

Daniel Hitt had also departed to another world in the full hope of eternal life. He was made a partaker of the grace of pardon in early life, and in 1790 entered the itinerant ministry. In the first years of his itinerancy he labored much in the new settlements in Virginia and in the western country, where he won for himself those laurels which adorn the brow of the faithful, self-denying minister of Jesus Christ. For several years he was the traveling companion of Bishop Asbury, who ever treated him as his confidential friend. During these travels over the continent he became extensively known to a large circle of friends, who esteemed him highly as a brother, and as an amiable Christian minister.

In 1808 he was elected as an assistant book agent, in which office he served for four years, under the supervision of the Rev. John Wilson. At the end of this term he was elected the principal, in which office he continued to discharge its duties, according to the best of his ability, to the end of his constitutional term, in 1816. Though his literary attainments were limited, yet his strict integrity and great fidelity eminently fitted him for a faithful discharge of his duties in the high trust confided to him. And the affability of his manners, the sweetness of his disposition, and his courteous conduct in the social circle, endeared him to his friends, as a companion in whose society they delighted to mingle.

In the pulpit he dwelt chiefly upon experimental and practical religion, seldom entering upon those controverted points which so often involve discussions among the several denominations of Christians. Here he was solemn and dignified, and strove to impress upon the minds of all the importance of a practical attention to the truths which he uttered.

He died of the typhus fever. In his sickness his mind was kept in peace, and he died in the triumph of faith and love.

Another aged veteran, Joseph Toy, was taken from the walls of our Jerusalem to his resting place above. He was brought from darkness to light under the preaching of Captain Webb, who was one of the first Methodist preachers in America, and was at that time preaching in Burlington, New Jersey. This was in the year 1770, and Joseph was then in the twenty-second year of his age. After receiving license to preach, he labored as a local preacher until 1801, when he entered the itinerancy, in which he continued, faithfully discharging its duties, to the end of his life.

In 1819, in consequence of debility, he was returned superannuated, and he settled in the city of Baltimore, where he preached occasionally, and was beloved and respected by all who knew him. Having filled up the measure of his days in obedience to the will of God, he died in great peace, on the 28th day of January, 1826, in the seventy-ninth year of his age.

One of the excellences of brother Toy was the punctuality with which he filled his engagements. At the age of seventy he was heard to say that for twenty years he had not disappointed a congregation — a practice worthy of the imitation of all. Although, in the latter part of his life, his sight so failed him that it was difficult for him to walk the streets without help, yet he continued to preach almost every , and sometimes twice, and was finally conducted from the pulpit to his dying bed, on which he manifested a perfect submission to the divine will, expressing his firm reliance upon the promise of eternal life.

John P. Finley, professor of languages in the Augusta College, Kentucky, had entered into rest during the past year. Though he was young in the itinerant ministry, yet he was a man of distinguished worth, and possessed virtues which may be profitably held up or the imitation of others. The following account is from the pen of Dr. Bascom, whose intimate knowledge of the subject of his remarks enabled him to depict the character of brother Finley as it was, and especially to present those peculiarities by which he was distinguished: —

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

“From Union he removed to Dayton, distant only about thirty miles, and conducted an academy in this place for two years. It was here our acquaintance and intimacy commenced, which ended only with his useful life. He left Dayton, beloved and regretted of all, and accepted a call to superintend a respectable seminary in Steubenville, Ohio. In this place he continued not quite two years. In his ministerial exertions he was ‘instant in season and out of season,’ and labored with more than ordinary success. His next remove was to Piqua, Ohio, where he continued as principal of an academy for four years. In all these places his pulpit efforts were highly acceptable; his social intercourse seasoned with dignity and piety, and his residence a blessing to all about him. From this place he made his last remove to Augusta, Kentucky. Here he taught a classical school for some time, and was afterward appointed principal of Augusta College, in which relation. he continued until the time of his death. In these several places his labors in the pulpit were considerable and extensively useful. All who knew him esteemed him as a man of talents and irreproachable Christian character. He was indeed, all in all, one of the most amiable, guileless men I ever knew: never did I know a man more perfectly under the influence of moral and religious principle. His uniform course was one of high and unbending rectitude. One error, as reported in the ‘Minutes,’ respecting his conversion, I must beg leave to correct. I do it upon his own authority (when living) and that of his brother, the Rev. James B. Finley, superintendent of the Wyandot mission . There is something rather remarkable in the manner in which these worthy ministers were first brought to reflect with more than ordinary concern upon their latter end. John and James were amusing themselves in the forest with their guns; and as John was sitting carelessly upon his horse, James’s gun accidentally went off, and the contents came very near entering John’s head. The brothers were mutually alarmed, humbled, and thankful; they were more than ever struck with the melancholy truth, that ‘in the midst of life we are in death;’ they reflected upon their unpreparedness to meet death and appear in judgment. Each promised the other he would reform; and the result was, they were both led to seek religion, as the only preparation for eternity. Both the brothers agree in stating that this circumstance was the means, in the hand of God, of their awakening and conversion, as neither of them was in the habit of attending the preaching of the gospel before the inquietude and alarm created by this occasion. I have been thus minute in detailing the immediate means of his conversion, at the request of a surviving brother, in whose estimation the apparent incompetency of the means magnifies the grace of God in this singular dispensation of blended mercy and .

“John P. Finley was in the ministry about fifteen years. He was ordained deacon by Bishop Asbury, on the 17th of September, 1815. He received ordination as elder at the hands of Bishop Roberts, July 2, 1820. At the time of his death he was a member of the Kentucky annual conference — actively dividing his time and energies between the business of collegiate instruction and the labor of the pulpit.

“As a man, the subject of these recollections was engagingly amiable, ingenuous, and agreeable; equally removed from affectation and reserve, the circle in which he moved felt the presence of a friend and the influence of a Christian and minister.

“As a teacher his excellence was acknowledged by all who were competent to decide upon his claims; and though he gloried most in being found a pupil in the school of Christ, yet he was no stranger to the academy and lyceum.

“As a husband, there is one living whose tears have been his eulogy, and to whom, with his orphan children, friendship inscribes these lines. As a father, he was worthy of his children, and in pointing them to another and better world he was always careful to leave the way himself.

“As a friend, he was warm, ardent, and confiding, and not less generous than constant; his intimate friends, however, were few and well selected.

“As a minister, in the pulpit, he was able, impressive, and overwhelming. The cross of his redemption was his theme, and in life and death it became to him the ‘emphasis of every joy.’ In all these relations knew him well, and can therefore speak from the confidence of personal knowledge and accredited information.

“The last time I saw him I preached a sermon, at his request, on the ‘Inspiration of the Scriptures.’ When I had retired to my room, he called on me, in company with a friend, and in his usual frank manner embraced me, and observed, ‘H, I thank you for that sermon, and I expect to repeat my gratitude in heaven.’ Little did I think, at this interview, I was gazing on my friend for the last time, and that in eighteen months his ripened virtues were to receive the rewards of the heavenly world! But so it was, and I, less fit to die, am spared another and another year.

“He died on the 8th of May, 1825, in the forty-second year of his age and sixteenth of his ministry; and at the same time that his bereaved family wept upon his grave, the sadness of the Church told that she had lost one of her brightest ornaments. Just before his triumphant spirit rose to sink and sigh no more, he was asked how he felt, and what were his prospects upon entering the dark valley and shadow of death. He replied, in language worthy of immortality, ‘Not the shadow of a doubt; I have Christ within, the hope of glory — that comprehends all;’ and then, with the proto-martyr, he ‘fell asleep.’

“Such is a very imperfect sketch of the life, character, and death of John P. Finley. God grant, reader, that you and I may share the glory that gilded the last hours of his toil.”

Of Nathan Walker, Martin Flint, William Young, Thomas Wright, John White, Henry P. Cook, Christopher Mooring, David Stevens, Sylvester G. Hill, Ezekiel Canfield, William S. Pease, Samuel G. Atkins, and Damon Young, who had departed this life during the past year, it is recorded that they all finished their course with joy.

Numbers in the Church: Whites This Year: 309,550; Last Year: 298,658; Increase: 10,892 — Colored This Year: 51,334; Last Year: 49,537; Increase: 1,797 — Total This Year: 360,884; Last Year: 348,195 — Increase: 12,689 — Preachers This Year: 1,406; Last Year: 1,314; Increase: 92.

1827

This year the “Sunday School Union of the Methodist Episcopal Church” was formed in the city of New York. The reader, however, is not to infer from this that the Methodists now for the first time entered upon the work of Sunday school instruction. In the first volume of this History we have seen that sabbath schools were commenced among the Methodists in this country as early as 1790, but were soon discontinued for want of sufficient encouragement. The origin of these schools in England is well known; and Mr. Wesley was among the first to patronize and recommend them to his people, and they soon became very general throughout his societies.