1630-5, in the reign of Charles I., and though it has been for some time given up to the moles and the bats, it is still in pretty good preservation, and yet we feel somewhat afraid when we enter it that the old roof and walls will give way and bury us in the ruins. Here may be seen a number of majestic and venerable oaks, and other trees, more ancient than the building or the bones that are mouldering in the adjoining graveyard. A solemn feeling creeps over the soul as we tread upon the withered leaves and try to decipher the inscriptions upon the tombs of the departed, and we say with the seraphic Hemans: "Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!" There may be seen also, at a short distance from the church, a fine, bold, everflowing spring of pure water, a beautiful emblem of the Word of Life, which has been so freely provided for our sinful race. Alas! how many who have quenched their thirst at this charming spring, have refused to receive the living waters of the Gospel! It was near this church, and under the shade of these magnificent trees, that, in the year 1804, the eccentric and far-famed Lorenzo Dow held the first camp-meeting in this vicinity. He thus speaks of it in his private journal: Friday, June 15, 1804.—I arrived at the camp-ground about an hour by sun in the evening; three found peace; some attempted interruption, but the magistrates were on our side. I contínued on the ground until Monday, 18th, in which time about sixty professed to have found peace, and about one hundred awakened. Brother Cox wrote me that about thirty found peace after that I had left the ground. Some blamed me for appointing the meeting; however, the devil's kingdom suffered loss in the Isle of Wight, and I will rejoice." Lest I should occupy too much space, I will reserve some observations about that meeting until my next. Yours truly, SMITHFIELD, VA., Nov. 8, 1855. JOHN BAYLEY. GROWTH OF METHODISM. From the beginning, Methodism has been a prominent object of attack by the enemies of Christianity. Sectarian bigotry, too, has never ceased warfare against Methodism. Her doctrines were first assailed, and then her polity. But in each case she has maintained her ground, and the struggle has added to her glory. Lately, in some quarters, speculation has been rife as to the adaptation of Methodism to the progress of society in general; and self-called prophets have put on record the prediction that she "must die out." Indeed, they have already discovered, as they dream, signs of decay ominous of death. These signs they do not find in the working of her economy, or in her principles, nor her spirit. But her numbers are decreasing, they cry out. Sometimes, too, with an ill-disguised affectation of regret! Now we hold, of course, that the chief glory of the Church is not in her numbers; but even here "facts and figures" are in her favor. Her increase for a half century has been steady, and still it is onward! This can be easily shown, and the editor of Zion's Herald is opening the eyes of the public wider than ever on this subject. He says, in his issue of the 24th ult.: "The following table covers over half a century. We are governed in our selection of the starting-points of our decades by the dates of the national census. Our numbers for each decade, are for the year immediately following that on which each census was taken. INCREASE OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, BY DECADES, FROM 1791 To 1854. "1801, "1811, 66 72,874, 184,567, 9,605, or 15 per cent. 111,693, or 153 66 "1821, 66 "1831, "1841, "1851, (North and South,) 1854, (North and South,) 1,251,198, 1,386,661, 135,463 for the last 3 years. "The next table shows how the per centage of our increase compares with that of the entire population of the country. The population increased from 1790 to 1800 35.02 per cent. Methodism 66 66 1791 to 1801 15.20 Methodism Methodism The population Methodism The population Methodism Methodism "Thus it appears that the per centage of our increase has been decidedly greater than that of the aggregate population of the country. "A comparison of our numbers with the whole population, will show a rapidlyincreasing ratio. Thus, beginning with 1791, seven years after the organization of. our Church, we have the following results: In 1791 one Methodist to about every 62 of the whole population. "These ratios, which do not include the members of various seceding Methodist bodies, but only the Methodist Episcopal Church and the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, show that in the sixty years previous to 1852, our ratio to the entire population has increased from one in sixty-two and a half, to one in eighteen and a half; or, including the various branches of Methodism not embraced in the above table, but numbering over one hundred and thirteen thousand communicants, our ratio has advanced from one in sixty-two and a half to one in seventeen; which exhibits a very gratifying increase on the population of the country." CHAPTER XII. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. [From the S. C. Advocate, Jan. 12.] INTERESTING REMINISCENCES OF THE REV. JAMES RUSSELL. MR. EDITOR: A daughter of mine, knowing the high esteem in which I held the above-named minister of the Gospel in his life-time, placed in my hands the S. C. Advocate of Feb. 4, 1853, in which she had seen an article signed "D.," entitled, "Sketches of the early life of James Russell." I knew this eminent man well, and can say with truth, that justice has never been done to his great talents and usefulness by any biographer whatever. He died a very poor man, and this is perhaps the cause of the neglect with which his memory has been treated. Often has it been my good fortune to listen to this eccentric though pious and powerful man, at the old camp-meeting grounds in Columbia and Warren counties in Georgia. I am not a Methodist, or member of any other church, and never was; but if I sometimes have religious impressions, my feelings ascribe them unmistakably to the power of James Russell over my mind and heart. I resided in Warrenton, Ga., engaged in the practice of the law, and Mr. Russell lived with his family in the same place, but he died from home at the residence of Dr. Moon, of South-Carolina, perhaps in Edgefield district, about the year 1823. I have known men who were not members of the church to follow him from one camp-meeting to another as if spell-bound or charmed beyond the power of separating from him. No one act of my life has ever given me more pleasure, in reflecting on the past, than the sending of Mr. Russell's children to school at my own expense after his death. I know of many incidents in his life which I will not now mention. But I will mention one to show the command which this great but neglected man held over his congregation. He was preaching at Bethesda meeting-house, near Warrenton, and was urging the people to join him in an army to take heaven by storm. He described the army he wished to raise-laid them off into separate commands under generals, colonels, majors, and captains, with a plenty of musicians; spoke of the joy that our relatives and friends in heaven would experience as we advanced; and compared it to the joy of the Christians in prison in Tripoli at the approach of Commander Decatur's fleet, as they beheld the American flag once more, listened again to the American drum and fife-expecting in a short time to be released, and happily conveyed to their beloved America. While assigning, with matchless skill and power, to each officer on the march to heaven, his appropriate duties, and to the musicians theirs, naming some of the tunes he wanted them to play, a man named Edmund Perham, well known in that section of the country as a good musician and a clever man, jumped up involuntarily and clapping his hands together exclaimed, "I will play the fife," and immediately sat down again. This exclamation created no disturbance, for every body felt like playing some sort of tune, and the whole congregation raised a simultaneous shout. The efforts of no Whitefield, no Demosthenes ever exceeded the inspiration of that hour. TENNESSEE, Dec. 8, 1854. [St. Louis Christian Advocate, Jan. 25.-Editorial.] THE LATE DR. PATTON. J. W. A. P. In the fall of 1832 it was our privilege for the first time to spend an evening with the late Rev. S. Patton,, at his own house, in Sullivan county, Tenn. After supper we laid on the table a memorandum-book, which he took up, opened and wrote the following on a blank leaf: "TO THE OWNER OF THIS BOOK. Can e'er conceive. Results so grand, so high, Arise from means so small, subserving such a cause. No weapon formed shall ever find success, Against a son of Zion standing on his guard. Lo! now the trumpet sounds-salute the band, Lift up thy voice-preach Christ till life shall sink in death: S. P. "I joined the M. E. Church in November, 1813, then in my seventeenth year; obtained religion in April, 1814. Received license to preach in July, 1819. Set out for my first circuit in October following. If I were where I started thirteen years ago, and foresaw all that I have seen since then in an itinerant life, I would, as then, shake the parting hand of weeping friends, and take my portion with the Methodist travelling preachers. S. PATTON. "November 26, 1832." We do not recollect to have noticed the above for many years past, and had almost or quite forgotten all about it, until we just now chanced to look into the old book, when the eye fell on the familiar hand-writing, and at once thoughts of other days and other scenes "came o'er the mind." Ah! the friends-the fellowlaborers and fellow-sufferers of other days-where are they? [St. Louis Christian Advocate, Jan. 25.-Editorial.] REV. STEPHEN BROOKS. We have just seen a notice in the American Presbyterian, a paper published at Greenville, Tenn., of the death of Rev. Stephen Brooks, one of the oldest Methodist preachers in the connection. He was admitted into the travelling_connection in 1789, and was appointed to Lexington circuit, in Kentucky, with James Haw and Wilson Lee; Francis Poythress, presiding elder. The next year he travelled on the Danville circuit, in the same presiding elder's district. In 1791 he was admitted into full connection, and appointed to Greene circuit, with Rev. William Burke, as a colleague, and Barnabas McHenry, presiding elder. At that time, Greene circuit embraced nearly, or all, the territory of East-Tennessee, and, perhaps, a portion of Kentucky and South-western Virginia. In 1793, he was reported under location, through weakness of body, etc. About this time, he settled in Greene county, Tenn., and thenceafter his name disappears from the minutes. He was a member of the convention which met at Knoxville, January 11, 1796, to draft a constitution for the State of Tennessee, in which convention he took an active and responsible part; and subsequently, if we remember rightly, filled some important civil offices of the county in which he lived. He resided in that county sixty years or more, and died on the first instant, aged ninety-one years. Having known him from our boyhood, we may be permitted to remark: 1. He was a great man. Not, perhaps, in the sense in which that word is commonly used, but he possessed the elements of true greatness-the mental and moral characteristics of a great man. A man of strong mind, enlarged views, a true and warm heart, sterling integrity and inflexible moral principle. Not a man of circumstances, but of fixed principle, which principle guided him under all circumstances. 2. He was a good man-and great because good. He was one of those few preachers who could travel, locate, and still love and labor for the Church without whining and complaining. Willing to do good himself, he was willing, also, that others should do good. So far as we ever knew him, he was no croaker about "old times." He loved the friends and scenes of former days, it is true; but he loved, also, whatever was good in the latter days. A man of God, he lived for God and his cause-died, we trust, in the faith of the Gospel, and has gone where the wicked cease to trouble and the weary be at rest. Peace to his ashes. [From the N. O. Advocate, Feb. 3.] EARLY MISSISSIPPI METHODISTS. PULPIT ELOQUENCE-SUMMERFIELD-JOHN C. BURRUSS-ELIZABETH FEMALE ACADEMY-FEMALE ZEAL AND PERSEVERANCE-DAVID STILES-MRS. SANDERSON— MRS. CAROLINE MATILDA THAYER. In the life of John Flavel, a renowned dissenting preacher of England, it is said: "One of those omens, which are supposed to announce future eminence, accompanied his birth. A pair of nightingales made their nest close to the window of the chamber of his mother, and with their delicious notes sang the birth of him whose tongue sweetly proclaimed the glad tidings which gave songs in the night." I can not assert that the oratorical distinction of John C. Burrus was preceded by any such incident, but it has seldom been my fortune to hear a more mellifluous and seductive speaker. In very early life, a student at Washington City, I heard the famous Summerfield, a young Methodist itinerant. His face and form were of womanly, almost of angelic beauty. A divine lustre beamed in his eyes. His clear, full, sonorous voice-vox canora-fell like the tones of a mountain-bell one moment, and anon came crashing, thundering down, with terrible effect, on the startled masses, forcing them to cry aloud and crowd together, with uplifted arms, as though for shelter from an impending avalanche. His eloquence shook sin from its citadels, and dragged vice and fashion from their "pride of place." The sensation he produced was tremendous. Multitudes followed his footsteps. As a field preacher he towered alongside of Whitefield; but he soon went down to the grave, consumed by his own fire, and called to a higher sphere for some inscrutable purpose. It is related of Bossuet that, when he pronounced the funeral sermon of the Princess Henrietta, and described her dying agonies, the whole audience arose from their seats, with terror in every countenance. When Massillon ascended the pulpit, on the death of Louis XIV., he contemplated for a moment the impressive spectacle-the chapel draped in black-the magnificent mausoleum raised over the bier-the dim, but vast apartment filled with trophies of the glory of the monarch, and with the most illustrious persons in the kingdom. He looked down on the gorgeous scene beneath, then raised his arms to heaven and said, in a solemn, subdued tone: "Mes freres, Dieu seul est grand!" "God only is great." With one impulse, all the audience rose, turned to the altar, and reverently bowed. When Dr. Hussey preached at Waterford, on the small number of the elect, he asked: "Whether, if the arch of heaven were to open, and the Son of Man should appear to judge his hearers, it were quite certain that three-that two-nay, trembling for myself as well as for you, is it certain that even one of us," he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, "would be saved?" During the whole of this apostrophe, the audience was agonized. At the ultimate interrogation, there was a general shriek, and some fell to the ground. M. Bridaine, a French missionary, and the peer of the most renowned orators of that eloquent nation, preached a sermon on hell and eternal penalties, at Bagnole. At the end of it, he lifted up his arms and thrice cried, in a loud voice: O ETERNITY! At the third repetition of this awful cry, the whole audience fell upon their knees. During three days consternation pervaded the town. In all the public places, young and old were heard crying aloud: "Mercy, O Lord, incrcy!" Cardinal Maury, in the Essai sur l'Eloquence de la Chaire, relates many such instances, and the history of the Methodists, particularly, abound with them. You furnish more orators than all the other denominations combined-orators that alarm the soul; that speak to the heart; that shake the whole man as with the tramp of an earthquake. The gifted Summerfield was one of this order of men. When he first appeared in the national metropolis, preceded by his fame, the Methodist church, and every avenue to it, was so thronged, that it was proposed to proceed to the hall of the House of Representatives. When he arrived there, he could not reach the Speaker's chair, and he was conducted to the east portico, where the presidents are inaugurated, and the multitude filled the public square. His first words were: "My friends, Death is here!" These terrible words, slowly pronounced, fell, like the last sentence, on almost every ear. The movement was everywhere perceptible, and in half an hour many were shrieking, swooning, and crying aloud for mercy. Mr. Clay stood near the speaker, and pronounced him the greatest orator of the age. It was at one of the early conferences in Mississippi that I first saw John C. Burruss. He is a native of Caroline county, Va., but then resided in Alabama. He was in the prime of life, with a physiognomy decidedly classical-an eagle eye, a bold, high forehead, a nose prominent and aquiline, the mouth wide, lips thin, delicately chiseled and firmly compressed, throwing over the countenance a blended expression of benevolence and firmness. His hair was fair, and worn long, and his costume strictly clerical and scrupulously neat. Some eminent preacher had just concluded an impressive discourse, and a very solemn feelingdeep and intense-prevailed. Mr. Burruss, a stranger to the whole congregation, commenced by singing a revival hymn, and the feeling grew deeper and deeper. He read from the epistle of Paul to the Hebrews, chap. 10, and took his text from verse 25 to 39, inclusive. Read the chapter, and you will find how appropriate it is for such an occasion and such a discourse as he delivered. He began in a very low tone-so low that it required the closest attention to hear him --and this was what he was aiming at: to concentrate the attention of the large and agitated congregation. His manner was extremely solemn, and, at the same time, so insinuating that each hearer seemed to feel that he himself was the object |