CHAPTER VIII. KENT, BRISTOL, AND NORTHAMPTON CIRCUITS.

During the interval between the Baltimore and the Philadelphia Conference Bishops Asbury and Whatcoat spent some time on the Peninsula. They visited my circuit, and I had the honor of going with them to the conference which met in Philadelphia on Saturday, May 1, 1802.

Sunday was a high day in Zion. In the morning, at St. George’s, the Rev. George Roberts preached a sermon of rare excellence on salvation by grace through faith. In the afternoon John M’Claskey preached from Exod. xv, 16, on Israel’s separation from the world, and how it might be known that God was with his people; not by the descent of manna, but the pillar and cloud day and night. He showed great ingenuity, and while he was preaching the baptism of fire descended. In the evening Rev. William Colbert discoursed on the advantages of an itinerant ministry from “Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.” It was delivered with great unction. Colbert was a great little man in the days of his glory.

This pleasant conference closed the next Friday, and I was appointed to Kent Circuit with Christopher Sprye. He was a noble colleague, one of the pioneers of Methodism in New England. This was the oldest circuit on the Peninsula, being formed in 1774. There were many things on this circuit of peculiar interest to me. I had the honor of preaching in Kent’s Meeting-house, the first Methodist house of worship erected on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.

It was built in 1774, one year after the first conference was held in America.

This was four miles below Chestertown. The old chapel years ago gave way to a better structure, now called Hynson’s Chapel, from the name of a family who resided near it.

The burying-ground connected with this chapel is also a place of interest, not only because of the old families of Methodism who were sleeping there, but from its being the last resting-place of ministers who have fallen at their post. The renowned William Gill, one of our early preachers, was buried there. He was a man of surpassing genius, of philosophic mind. Dr. Rush greatly admired him, and pronounced him the greatest divine he had ever heard. This is no mean praise coming from such a source. In 1777 he joined the traveling connection, and died in 1789; a short but brilliant career. With his own hands he closed his eyes, and laid his body down in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection.

In this circuit I formed the acquaintance of Rev. John Smith, one of our old preachers, who possessed much of the spirit of the beloved John, whose name he bore. He was at the famous Christmas Conference of 1784. He lived in Chestertown, and his house was my home. He was a very genial old man, and his conversation was agreeable and profitable. I heard him preach from Psalm xxiv, 3, 4: “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord?” etc. It was a profitable discourse, and much good was done. He died triumphantly in 1812, exclaiming, “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly; take my enraptured soul away. I am not afraid to die. I long to be dissolved and see the face of God without a dimming vail between: death has lost his sting.” He was buried beside the grave of William Gill.

The father of Shadrach Bostwick resided on this circuit. Shadrach Bostwick was one of the mighty men of our Israel. I wonder not that Bishop Hedding called him a “glorious man;” we have had but few such men. I first saw and heard him at the General Conference in Baltimore in 1800.

The same spring I went with him to Georgetown, when he was on his way to see his aged father for the last time.

Dr. Bostwick was born near the head of Chester, in Kent County, Maryland. In Delaware, Maryland, New Jersey, New England, and Ohio he did noble service for Methodism, and was everywhere esteemed as “a prince and a great man.” He emigrated to Ohio, and was a pioneer in more senses than one. Long since he fell asleep, leaving behind him a name distinguished for its purity and luster. His father’s house was one of my regular preaching places on this circuit. In the old homestead where he was born and spent his early days, and where he was born again, I preached over sixty years ago the glorious Gospel of the blessed God.

His father was among the oldest Methodists on the Peninsula, and when his son joined the conference, in 1791, he was “in age and feebleness extreme.” He died while I was on the circuit.

I wrote thus in my Journal: “June 23, 1802, I rode to Father Bostwick’s; I found him in a low state of health; but the way to the celestial country appeared bright before him; this enables him to rejoice in the midst of pain. I preached at his house from ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.’ This was a theme adapted to his character and condition. The old man got happy under the word in the prospect of seeing God.

“July 22. I rode to the aged Father Bostwick’s. When within a quarter of a mile of the place I met the people returning, who informed me that the old man lay at the point of death, and, therefore, there could be no preaching at his house that night. I told them we would have a meeting in the road where we were. I gave them an exhortation, followed by prayer. We all knelt down in the street and had a precious time.” I name this to show the early Methodist ministers lost then no opportunity of doing good. It was the uniform custom to be “instant in season and out of season.”

I then went to his house and found the old pilgrim near “The narrow stream of death.” The next day, as he had somewhat revived, I preached in his orchard from “Ye know the grace,” etc. I then spent some time with the dying father. The scene was beautiful, the room full of glory; the old saint was triumphant. I prayed with him, and then bade him farewell till we meet in the pilgrim’s home. Before I came round again he was in Paradise.

The peninsula produced some of the strongest men of Methodism: Shadrach Bostwick, Caleb Boyer, William Beauchamp, Ezekiel Cooper, Hope Hull, Dr. William Phœbus, Stephen Martindale, Lawrence McCombs, Lawrence Lawrenson, Bishop Emory, and many others.

Frequent changes were made at that time in the ministry during the conference year. I traveled Kent Circuit, with Christopher Sprye, till August, then my presiding elder removed me to Northampton Circuit, formerly a part of Bristol. It embraced several counties besides Northampton, Montgomery, Berks, and others. An exchange was made between Johnson Dunham and myself. So I went from the low to the high lands. The contrast was wonderful: the former low, level, and unhealthy; you might travel a whole day without seeing a hill; the latter, hills, mountains, and valleys. The change had a fine effect on my health and spirits. I entered upon my new field of labor with delight. The country was new, the circuit large and rough.

Bristol Circuit was traveled by Thomas Everard and T. Jones. James Lattomas was stationed in Wilmington. He was a superior preacher, and in his day a man of considerable note. He was taken sick, and Brother T. Jones was sent to fill his place. A relative of Thomas Everard died in Philadelphia of yellow fever, so he left the circuit, and Bristol and Northampton were blended into one, and I alone left to travel them. I found I had enough to do to go round this large territory in three weeks. I had no time for “rest week,” no time to rust out; but it was happy toil, and the best of all, God was with me, strengthening me with his Spirit, and cheering me with his presence.

Jacob Gruber’s birthplace was on this circuit, and I used to stay with his parents, who lived in Springfield township. I was there in 1798 with my father, who was on a ministerial tour. Jacob’s father belonged to the United Brethren; his mother, and brother Peter, and sister were Methodists. I knew the family well. They were exceedingly industrious and economical. Jacob was converted, as we have seen, under Simon Miller, and from this place he went out to travel. He was highly esteemed in his neighborhood, but met with great opposition from his father when he joined the Methodists. He had a very ready utterance, with quite a German accent. I shall say more about him hereafter, as he was my colleague.

There was a house of worship in the neighborhood called Bryan’s Meeting-house, named after Brother Bryan, who was a man of standing and influence. He was formerly a deist, but was converted under the labors of Dr. William P. Chandler.

I preached in Stroudsburg, now the county seat of Monroe. It took its name from Colonel Jacob Stroud, who was the first settler, and owned four thousand acres of land. He was colonel in the Revolutionary army, and commanded at Fort Penn, which stood where the village of Stroudsburgh is now. This was the first settlement reached by the unfortunate fugitives from Wyoming after the terrible slaughter of July, 1778. I knew Colonel Stroud well, for he kept a public-house, and I often put up with him, and his house was a regular preaching place. We preached there on Sunday mornings. The colonel was a short, thick-set man, and much of a gentleman, and a thorough business man. His wife was an excellent woman, and a member of our Church.

The colonel was very friendly, very courteous, but not religious. I went to his house to preach one Sabbath morning, and arriving before the hour of service, I was kindly invited into a private room. The colonel came in, and, after wishing me good morning, I inquired after the state of his health. He answered, “As hearty as a buck, but I do not like this dying. I believe God made man to live forever.” I replied, “I believe that too, but sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and now it is appointed unto all men once to die.” He looked thoughtful, but made no reply, and left the room. A few minutes after I began the service, and the colonel was one of my auditors, for he was always present at the preaching, and a very attentive hearer. He was then an old man, and yet he did not like to think of death. He died three years after, in 1806.

My excellent friend and brother, William Colbert, in November, 1804, married Colonel Stroud’s daughter Elizabeth. As I was so well acquainted in the family, and he and myself such intimate friends, he consulted me concerning the step he was about to take. I knew how deeply he was in love, and said I could give him no better advice than I saw in the almanac: “If you marry, you will be sorry; if you do not, you will be sorry.” He smiled, and said, “You have now fixed me.” A few months after he was married, and I never heard he was sorry. She made him an excellent helpmate, and William and Elizabeth “walked in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless,” till death separated them, in 1833. Then Elizabeth was left a widow, and William went up to receive his crown.

Another of my preaching places was at Father Broadhead’s, in Smithfield, Northampton County. There was a place called “Broadhead Settlement,” and there is a stream called “Broadhead Creek,” They probably were so called from General Broadhead, who distinguished himself first in the Indian wars, and afterward in the Revolution. Here the Rev. John Broadhead, a descendant of his, was born and converted, and began to preach, and from this place entered the traveling connection. It was at his uncle’s I preached, and there were a number of his relatives in the neighborhood. He entered the traveling connection in 1794, and after having accomplished a noble work, died with his armor on, April 7, 1838. No name in the annals of New England Methodism shines brighter than John Broadhead’s; none will be more enduring. He was a man of imposing appearance, a dignified Christian minister, and a model preacher. In 1800 I became acquainted with him, and in after years, when at the New England Conferences, I saw him and heard him preach.

I preached also at Bristol, a beautiful place on the banks of the Delaware, twenty miles from Philadelphia. We had a small class there, and I preached in the old Episcopal church. The Episcopalians had no minister and no preaching, therefore they permitted us to occupy it. This was the case then almost everywhere in that part of the country, but it is very different now. Our people some years before had begun to erect a brick edifice in Bristol. The walls were up, but the roof was not on. They began to build, but were not able to finish; so it stood for several years. We circulated a subscription, raised the money, and completed the edifice, and I had the honor of dedicating it on March 12, 1803. My text was 1 Peter iii, 12. I made this record: “I preached to one hundred and seventy, who appeared remarkably attentive. The Lord truly let us feel the evidence of his approbation.”

I see by the last Minutes that we now have in Bristol 204 members and 191 probationers, and a church edifice worth $10,000. There is a great change since I was there in 1803.

Then I went to Germantown, and John M’Claskey preached for me. His text was 2 Kings v, 14: “Then he went down and dipped himself seven times in Jordan,” etc. His sermon was original and full of interest. A great preacher was John M’Claskey in the days of his strength. He was one of the noblest looking men in the pulpit I ever saw. His commanding appearance, beautiful flowing locks, and magnificent voice made him quite an object of attraction.

On July 1 I went to Philadelphia and preached at Zoar, and lodged with Brother D. Doughty. The next evening I heard Thomas F. Sargent preach at the Bethel on “the stone which the builders rejected.” His sermon showed him to be a workman that needeth not to be ashamed.

Near the close of this conference year I received a letter from William Colbert requesting me to take a tour with him through the Peninsula previous to the session of our conference. I could not have been better pleased than at the opportunity to revisit with such a man the scenes of our former labors and triumphs.

On April 7 we started for Annamessex and St. Martin’s Circuits. Again we witnessed the mighty displays of the mercy and power of God. Multitudes were converted; among them many Africans. Brother Colbert preached at that time with great efficiency. He moved the masses as the wind does the wheat in summer. I have a list of all his texts and themes. He showed great wisdom in their selection. At every place we were hailed with delight. After many days of traveling, on April 30 we reached Dover, and were the guests of the Hon. Richard Bassett.

Bishop Asbury being sick, and not able to fill his appointment, Ezekiel Cooper held forth, and then Brother Colbert gave a narrative of the work of God on Albany District, over which he had presided during the year, and of the hundreds who were flocking to Jesus in the north, and while he was so doing the holy fire began to kindle on the altar of many hearts.

Joseph Jewell from Canada gave an account of the work of God on his district, which was like good news from a far country, and the people were much refreshed. We had no periodicals then, and this is the way religious intelligence was communicated. What a different age we live in now, when we have so many “Advocates” and other religious journals. The reader will get an idea of the extent of the work when he learns that in what was then the Albany District there are now several annual conferences. This district and Canada then belonged to the Philadelphia Conference.

Bishop Whatcoat arrived and preached at four o’clock one of his rich sermons, on all things working for good to them that love God. Richard Sneath exhorted. In the evening James Moore preached from Rom. viii, 18: “I reckon the sufferings of the present time,” etc. There was a general move in the congregation, and some professed to be converted.

On Sunday, May 1, Bishop Whatcoat preached from 1 Peter iii, 5, on being “clothed with humility.” It was a melting time. Few men could move and melt an audience like Bishop Whatcoat. His own heart was made of tenderness, and no wonder those felt who listened to him.

I never saw a more general move in a congregation under the word than on that day. Many were awakened, and we spent hours with those in distress. Several were converted, and the shouts of joy and songs of triumph were heard afar off. The meeting continued from nine in the morning till three in the afternoon without intermission. The recollection of such days of power and glory is enough to make an old man renew his youth.