that "tried men's souls;" and others are now building on the
foundations laid by these pure men and women, and cemented by their
tears of suffering and sorrow. It requires neither nerve nor pluck to
go to an appointment where there is a fine church, a fine parsonage,
a fine membership, and a fine salary. Any ordinary man can go to an
appointment like that. But it takes a man of nerve and pluck and
indomitable perseverance a man of the Pauline and Bishop Taylor type
to go where none of these things exist, and, by his faith and heroic
labors, create from raw material the fine church, the fine parsonage,
the fine membership, and the fine salary. This work the pioneers of
Nebraska did. They counted not their lives dear unto themselves, nor
the lives of their families, so that they might finish the work they
were commissioned by the Master to do. Paul did not want to "build
upon another man's foundation," nor do work where everything was
"made ready to his hand." He swam rivers, climbed mountains, crossed
oceans; was stoned, beaten with rods, imprisoned, wrecked upon the
stormy sea time and again,--all that he might carry the gospel into
"the regions beyond," and plant the standard of the cross where it
never before had been planted. So these early pioneers carried the
gospel into "the regions beyond," and planted the standard of the
cross upon entirely new terri-
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
271
|
tory; and where it was first planted, that standard still proudly
waves to-day.
In 1872, Ulysses first appeared upon
the Conference Minutes. The pastor appointed to this charge was
impecunious--he had scarcely anything at all; but he went to work
like a true Methodist preacher, laid out a circuit over a hundred
miles around, organized a number of new classes, and although he had
no means to procure himself a horse, having good feet and long legs,
and a heart overflowing with love for God and souls, he traveled his
work the whole of the year on foot. God was with him. The revival
flame swept over the entire circuit, and he returned one hundred and
forty members, including probationers, an increase of one hundred and
sixteen during the year. Many of the preachers on the district that
year did just as heroic service for the Master as Brother Reed.
We do not disparage the work of those
who came after the vanguard, and are building upon the foundations
they found laid and "made ready to their hand." Theirs, too, is a big
work, and they, too, will receive a great reward. God "shall reward
every man according to his work." But I have sometimes thought that
among the multitudes that shall gather around the great white throne
in the last day, those who shall stand nearest the throne, be most
like the Master,
|
272
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
have the brightest crowns, the loveliest palms, and have accorded
to them the highest praise and the greatest honors, will be those who
can present the longest list of sufferings for the Master, and can
say, "We suffered all this for thee."
At that time there was no "Woman's Home
Missionary Society" in operation. The pioneers along the frontier
seldom received assistance from the East. That society to-day is
doing a noble work in furnishing supplies to God's great spiritual
army at the front. The picket-lines are exposed to peril and
suffering now, just as they were twenty years ago. The only
difference is, the lines are a little farther to the West. Some out
on these picket-lines have received aid that has brought joy and
gladness to their hearts, and cheer and sunshine into their
homes.
One incident may be cited to show what
this society is doing, and what it may continue to do. The narrative
is by a minister's wife on the frontier, and was published in The
Woman's Home Mission.
"I remember a day during one winter
that stands out in my life like a boulder. The weather was unusually
cold; our salary had not been regularly paid, and it did not meet our
needs when it was. My husband was away traveling from one district to
another much of the time.
"Our boys were well; but my little Ruth
was
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
273
|
ailing, and, at best, none of us were decently clothed. I patched
and repatched, with spirits sinking to their lowest ebb. The water
gave out in the well, and the wind blew through the cracks of the
floor.
"The people in the parish were kind,
and generous too; but the settlement was new, and each family was
struggling for itself. Little by little, at the time when I needed
most, my faith began to waver. Early in life I was taught to take God
at his word, and I thought my lesson was well learned. I had lived
upon the promises in dark times, until I knew, as David did, who was
'my Fortress and Deliverer.' Now a daily prayer for forgiveness was
all that I could offer.
"My husband's overcoat was hardly thick
enough for October, and he was obliged to ride miles to attend some
meeting or funeral. Many a time our breakfast was Indian cake and a
cup of tea without any sugar. Christmas was coming; the children
always expected their presents. I remember the ice was thick and
smooth, and the boys were each craving a pair of skates.
"Ruth, in some unaccountable way, had
taken a fancy that the dolls I had made were no longer suitable; she
wanted a large, nice one, and insisted on praying for it. I knew it
was impossible; but, O, how I wanted to give each child its present!
It seemed as if God had deserted us;
|
274
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
but I did not tell my husband all this. He worked so earnestly and
heartily, I supposed him to be hopeful as ever. I kept the
sitting-room cheery with an open fire, and tried to serve our scanty
meals as invitingly as I could. The morning before Christmas James
was called to see a sick man. I put up a piece of bread for a
lunch--it was the best I could do--wrapped my plaid shawl around his
neck, and then tried to whisper a promise, as I often had, but the
words died away on my lips. I let him go without it. That was a dark,
hopeless day. I coaxed the children to bed early, for I could not
bear their talk. When Ruth went I listened to her prayer; she asked
for the last time most explicitly for her doll--and for skates for
her brothers. Her bright face looked so lovely when she whispered to
me, 'You know I think they'll be here early tomorrow morning early,
mamma," that I thought I could move heaven and earth to save her from
disappointment. I sat down alone, and gave way to the bitterest
tears.
"Before long James returned, chilled
and exhausted. He drew off his boots; the thin stockings slipped off
with them, and his feet were red with cold. I wouldn't treat a dog
that way, let alone a faithful servant. Then; as I glanced up and
noticed the hard lines in his face, and the look of despair, it
flashed across me that James
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
275
|
had let go too! I brought him a cup of tea, feeling sick and dizzy
at the very thought. He took my hand, and we sat for an hour, neither
uttering a word. I wanted to die, and meet God, and tell him his
promise wasn't true--my soul was so full of rebellious despair. There
came a sound of bells, a quick step, and a loud knock at the door.
James sprang to open it. There stood Deacon Pike. 'A box came for you
by express just before dark. I brought it around as soon as I could
get away. Reckoned it might be for Christmas. At any rate, they shall
have it tonight. Here is a turkey my wife asked me to fetch along;
and these other things, I believe, belong to you.' There was a basket
of potatoes and a bag of flour. Talking all the time, he hurried in a
box, and then, with a hearty goodnight, rode away.
"Still, without speaking, James found a
chisel and opened the box. I drew out at first a thick, red blanket,
and we saw that beneath was full of clothing. It seemed at that
moment as if Christ fastened upon me a look of reproach. James sat
down, and covered his face with his hands. 'I can not touch them!' he
exclaimed. 'I haven't been true just when God was trying me to see if
I could hold out. Do you think I could not see how you were
suffering, and I had no word of comfort to offer? I know now how
to
|
276
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
preach the awfulness of turning away from God.' 'James,' I said,
clinging to him, 'do n't take it to heart like this. I've been to
blame. I ought to have helped you. We will ask Him together to
forgive us.' 'Wait a moment, dear; I can not talk now.' Then he went
into another room. I knelt down, and my heart broke. In an instant
all the darkness rolled away. Jesus came again, and stood before me;
but now with the loving word, 'Daughter!' Sweet promises of
tenderness and joy flooded my soul, and I was so lost in praise and
gratitude that I forgot everything else. I do n't know how long it
was before James came back, but I knew that he too had found peace.
'Now, dear wife,' said he, 'let us thank God together; and then he
poured out words of praise
Bible words, for nothing else could
express our thanksgiving. It was eleven o'clock. The fire was low;
and there was the great box, and nothing touched but the warm blanket
we needed so much. We piled on some fresh logs, lighted two candles,
and began to examine our treasures. We drew out an overcoat. I made
James try it on. Just the right size! and I danced awhile around him,
for all my light-heartedness had returned. Then there was a cloak,
and he insisted on seeing me in it. My spirits always infected him,
and we laughed like foolish children. There was a warm suit of
clothes also, and three pairs
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
277
|
of warm woolen hose. There was a dress for me, and yards of
flannel; a pair of Arctic overshoes for each of us, and in mine was a
slip of paper. I have it now, and mean to hand it down to my
children. It was Jacob's blessing to Asher: 'Thy shoes shall be iron
and brass, and as thy days, so shall thy strength be.' In the
gloves--evidently for James--the same dear hand had written: 'I, the
Lord thy God, will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not, I
will help thee.'
"It was a wonderful box, and packed
with thoughtful care. There was a suit of clothes for each of the
boys, and a little, red gown for Ruth. There were mittens, scarfs,
and hoods; down in the center a box; we opened it, and there was a
great wax doll. I burst into tears again, and James wept with me for
joy. It was too much; and then we both exclaimed again, for close
behind it came two pairs of skates. There were books for us to
read--some of them I had wished to see; stories for the children to
read; aprons and underclothing; knots of ribbon; a gay little tidy; a
lovely photograph; needles, buttons, and thread; actually a muff, and
an envelope containing a ten-dollar gold piece! At last we cried over
everything we took up. It was past midnight, and we were faint and
exhausted even with happiness. I made a cup of tea, cut a fresh loaf
of bread,
|
278
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
and James boiled some eggs. We drew up the table before the fire.
How we enjoyed our supper! And then we sat talking over all our life,
and how sure a help God had always proved.
"You should have seen the children next
morning! The boys raised a shout at the sight of their skates. Ruth
caught up her doll, and hugged it tightly without a word; then she
went into her room, and knelt by her bed. When she came back she
whispered to me, 'I knew it would be here, mamma; but I wanted to
thank God just the same, you know.' 'Look here, wife; see the
difference!' We went to the window, and there were the boys, out of
the house already, and skating on the crust with all their might.
"My husband and I both tried to return
thanks to the Church in the East that sent us the box, and have tried
to return thanks unto God every day since. Hard times have come again
and again; but we have trusted in him, dreading nothing so much as a
doubt of his protecting care. Over and over again we have proved that
they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing.'"
This family represents many on duty
to-day along the picket-lines of the great Northwest. I have known
families like the above--pure, noble men and women, God's saints on
the earth-to whose very door want had come; but
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
279
|
there was no Woman's Home Missionary Society to help them.
During the year the membership on the
Lincoln District increased ninety per cent, and the Sunday-schools
and church and parsonage-building enterprises increased at the same
ratio. Other districts of the Conference were abreast with
Lincoln.
The Conference year ending March 24,
1873, was also a year of marvelous growth. The mighty wave of
emigration from the East continued to roll into the State, and on to
the western counties where land could be homesteaded. The Conference
met this year at Plattsmouth. The reports were all exceedingly
gratifying. Every presiding elder reported great progress on all
lines of Church work. Great revivals had taken place, and hundreds
had been converted and gathered into the Church. In sod churches, sod
school-houses, sod dwellings, dug-outs, and in the tented grove,
God's saving power had been most signally displayed in the conversion
of sinners and the sanctification of believers. The plains and hills
of the beautiful prairies were made to resound with praises to
Almighty God.
At this Conference we first met Bishop
Andrews. At first sight we feared we should not like him. These
fears, however, were very soon dissipated. His kind and genial
manner, his
|
280
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
great interest in the welfare of all the preachers, his deep
sympathy with them in their privations and sacrifices, won the hearts
of all. We all felt that Bishop Andrews was the right man in the
right place. How wonderfully we have been blessed as a Church in our
superintendents! The bishop lived for a number of years in Des
Moines, Iowa; and, while his home was in the West, he was, like Paul,
"in journeyings often, in labors more abundant;" and since his return
to the East his labors have been none the less arduous and
unremitting. No class of men in the Church are harder worked than the
bishops and the presiding elders. We never called on the bishop for
extra work but he willingly responded, and we drew on him often.
At Weeping Water a good stone church
was finished January 13, 1874, under the successful labors of Brother
A. L. Folden. Bishop Andrews came over and dedicated it, and raised
the necessary amount to liquidate all debts. The good people of that
city who were there at that time well remember the dedicatory
services. Although the dedication was on week-day, and the weather
bitter cold, the house was packed to its utmost capacity, and the
services throughout were most interesting. Some of the members gave
more than they thought they were able to give. I really thought so
myself. They deprived them-
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
281
|
selves of many of the necessaries of life that they might have a
church in which, to worship God. I have no doubt but God has rewarded
them for their liberality. Many gracious revivals of religion have
taken place in that church, and hundreds of precious souls have there
been converted to God.
The next winter the bishop was with us,
and dedicated the church at Syracuse; then went with us to Seward,
and dedicated the church there, which had been built by Brother
Folden also. Nearly all the churches built in Nebraska while the
bishop resided at Des Moines were dedicated by him.
At the Plattsmouth Conference a
resolution was adopted respectfully requesting the bishops to change
the time of the sessions of the Nebraska Conference to the fall of
the year. The request was complied with, and the next Conference year
was eighteen months long.
The fourteenth session of the Nebraska
Conference met at Omaha, October 1, 1874, Bishop Thomas Bowman
presiding. On Sunday morning the bishop preached a masterly sermon.
His subject was, "The Tyndall Prayer-test." Brother S. P. Van Doozer
had given to the bishop and the cabinet some remarkable answers to
prayer during the year by members of the Church who lived in the
district scourged by the
24
|
282
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
grasshoppers. The bishop used these with telling effect and power
in illustrating his sermon on Sunday morning.
The Conference year had been one of
great trial, both to preachers and people. The grasshopper scourge
was upon us. In addition to the destructive grasshoppers, the crops
had been cut short by the dry weather and hot winds; so what the
grasshoppers did not eat, the hot winds, to a great extent,
destroyed. There are a few days almost every year when we feel the
hot winds from the south, but we have never known a year in which
there were so many days with hot winds from the south as there were
in 1874. The hot winds felt just as though they came from a furnace.
It did no good whatever to use a fan. If you did, it was blowing hot
air into your face. Many farmers that year became discouraged and
left the State. Some of them never returned; others, after years,
returned, greatly regretting that they were so foolish as to have
left the State. Those who remained and were industrious have become
independent, and many of them affluent.
Dr. J. M. Reid, missionary secretary,
came with the bishop to this Conference. He was greatly moved when he
heard of the privations and sufferings of the people. He said to. the
writer: "I wish I had known the condition of
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
283
|
affairs in your Conference sooner. If I had, I could have secured
some more missionary money for you from the Contingent Fund; but I
can't do it now." He placed in my hands twenty-five dollars, saying:
"This is from a Christian lady of New York City. She wants you to
give it to five of the most needy Methodist preachers' wives in your
district." I think he gave the same amount to the other elders. I
said to him: "What is. the lady's name? I should like to know the
name of the generous Christian lady who makes this donation to the
wives of my preachers, and I am sure the wives of the preachers would
be glad to know." "That does not matter. She does not care to have
her name known," said he. I felt certain in my own mind that it was
the Doctor's generous and big-hearted wife that had made the gift. I
gave five dollars each to five of the most needy preachers' wives on
my district, and they received the present with grateful hearts. I
often wished that the giver knew just how much good that donation
did; it was a real benediction to these toil-worn, self-sacrificing
women. The giver will most assuredly receive her reward.
A full account of the grasshopper
scourge may be found elsewhere in this book.
The next Conference was held in
Lincoln, beginning September 15, 1875, Bishop Gilbert
|
284
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
Haven presiding. The good bishop has long since gone to his
reward. His death was a shock to the whole Church, and the whole
Nation as well. His fame was not only national, but worldwide. His
departure from earth was triumphant. Among his last words were: "I am
floating! I am surrounded with angels!" Like the sainted Cookman, one
of his dearest friends, he went "sweeping through the gates, washed
in the blood of the Lamb."
The four years from 1871 to 1875 were
years of great spiritual and numerical prosperity. During these four
years the appointments in the Conference increased from sixty-four to
one hundred and six, and the membership from five thousand one
hundred and fifty-three to nine thousand and fifty-six.
In my report to the Conference, I said:
"We must remember, however, that the strength and influence of a
Church does not always depend upon her numbers. She may be
numerically strong, but weak in influence and spiritual power. If the
spirituality of the Church does not keep pace with her numerical
strength, we may well fear and tremble. 'Onward!' should be the
rallying cry of every Christian. Every mountain of faith and joy
climbed by the Christian points to a still higher mountain beyond for
him to climb, and every mountain summit thus gained increases his
|
|
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF
DISTRICT WORK.
|
285
|
power with God and men; and he should remember with joy that,
however high the mountain of faith and joy may be to which he has
attained,
'Still there's more to follow.'
The Church has not only grown in
numbers but in spiritual power."
I can not close this chapter without a
personal reference to Rev. George Worley. Brother Worley was one of
the most successful, devoted, and self-sacrificing local preachers it
has ever been my privilege to know. I first met him in 1869. While on
the district, I employed him at different times as a supply, and no
preacher ever did more effective work. Revival after revival swept
over the different charges he traveled. His crown will not be a
starless one; and his pure-spirited and large-hearted wife will have
a crown, methinks, that will flame with as many brilliant stars as
that of her husband. James, their son, has for years been one of our
successful missionaries in China; William and Thomas are both honored
ministers in the Church at home--the former a member of the North
Nebraska Conference, the latter of the Nebraska Conference. I shall
never forget the many kindnesses received from Brother and Sister
Worley. All honor to such fathers and mothers in Israel! On the fifth
day of March, 1890, at the ripe age of
|
286
|
SOLITARY PLACES MADE
GLAD
|
|
seventy-two, from her home in Garrison, Nebraska, Sister Worley
bid adieu to earthly friends, and passed in triumph to her heavenly
home. A few moments before her happy spirit took its upward and
eternal flight, she repeated one verse of her favorite hymn:
"O would my Lord his servant
meet!
My soul would stretch her wings in
haste,
Fly fearless through death's iron
gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she
passed."
HE
Conference year which closed March 23, 1872, had been a year of
unparalleled success. The most wonderful spiritual victories had been
gained all along the line. The toils and sacrifices of the ministers
and their families were crowned with the most brilliant achievements.
The hardships endured by these heroes and heroines in planting the
Church along the frontier, in the sparsely-settled neighborhoods, are
known only to themselves, to God, and "the Church of the first-born."
What a grand reward awaits these pioneer heralds of the cross! Some
of them have already entered upon their reward. They have gone home,
and they rest from their labors, but their works follow them. They
built not on other men's foundations; they laid the foundations of
the Church in this new land at a time
