{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8802/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8802","id":"gutenberg_8802","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8802","summary":null,"tags":["Arnold, Elizabeth Ward, 1778-1865","Category: British Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Novels","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Methodist women -- United States -- Biography"],"text":"Produced by Distributed Proofreaders\n\n\n\n\nELIZABETH THE DISINHERITED DAUGHTER\n\nBY E. BEN. EZ-ER\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThis booklet is little more than a compilation. The materials were abundant\nfor a much larger book. Elizabeth's divine _experience_ was so striking, so\nvaluable to the cause of truth, that it has not been essentially abridged.\nBut the _results_ in biography, though well known to all who knew her, have\nbeen cut down to the smallest dimensions that would allow that brilliant\nexperience to shine out.\n\nElizabeth had a lifelong conviction that God required the publication of\nHis remarkable dealings with her, and in her approach to the river of\ndeath solemnly enjoined it upon her youngest son and executor. His own\nconvictions also agree with the requirement. Here are obvious reasons:\n\n1. The early history of Methodism has suffered by the dropping out of\nmany striking illustrations of her power. By neglecting to record them\npermanently while well authenticated, they are now beyond recovery. As this\nprovidential work moves on gloriously, making world-wide history, these few\npreserved incidents of her early triumph become more and more valuable by\nthe lapse of time.\n\n2. Providentially this experience is too rare and too far back in American\nMethodism to be lost out.\n\n3. The controversy in which this experience was so strong a factor has not\nbecome obsolete. The \"horrible decrees\" have indeed been very generally\ndriven from the pulpit, but not entirely. Our work as polemics will not\nbe finished until they leave the schools and the books, and cease to be\npillows for the multitudes who lull themselves to slumber over the notion\nof \"sovereign grace and waiting God's time,\" and cease to goad despondent\nsouls to despair, with the charge of being \"from eternity passed by\" as\nunredeemed \"reprobates.\"\n\nE. ARNOLD.\n\n_Thousand Island Park_, 1893.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPART I.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHAT STRANGE LETTER\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nELIZABETH'S ALIENATION FROM THE ANCESTRAL FAITH\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHAT ALARMING MESSAGE\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nORDER OBEYED\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE FIERY FURNACE\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nGREAT VICTORIES\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPART II.--THE GREAT WOBK OF LIFE.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nELIZABETH AS MISTRESS OF THE \"COTTAGE CHAPEL\".\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nRELIGIOUS PRIVILEGES AND ENJOYMENTS\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nELIZABETH AS AN EVANGELISTIC LABORER\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nREMOVAL TO A WILDERNESS COUNTRY\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nVOLNEY, OSWEGO COUNTY, NEW YORK\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nHARDSHIPS OF THE NEW COLONY\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE QUARTERLY MEETINGS\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nEXTENDS HER LABORS\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nAS A CAMP MEETING WORKER\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n\"THE CHAMBER ON THE WALL\"\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nMRS. ELIZABETH ARNOLD AS A MOTHER\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nDOUBLE DILIGENCE\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPART III.--RETIREMENT\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nHOMES OP EARLY METHODISTS\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nJOSHUA ARNOLD\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nSEPARATION\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nCONCLUSION\n\n\n\n\n\nELIZABETH, THE DISINHERITED DAUGHTER.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPART I.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\nTHAT STRANGE LETTER.\n\nIt was in the latter part of the eighteenth century. The dwelling was a\nplain frame structure, spacious, and of the style of that day (the second\nstory projecting a few inches beyond the first), and was kept painted as\nwhite as snow. It stood in the south suburb of the then little city of\nMiddletown, Conn., between two hills on the right bank of the Connecticut\nRiver, at the bend called \"the Cove.\" The first break in the happy family\ncircle was made by the departure of a daughter to another State to engage\nin teaching. Few letters were written in those days, and the postal service\nwas a slow and small concern. But this absent school-teacher had written\nwith much care and vivacity to the dear circle at home as regularly as the\nmonths came around. But now, for long, anxious weeks, no tidings from the\nabsent one had reached that saddened home at the Cove. \"Why don't we get\na letter from Betsey?\" was often asked by the fond parents, the loving\nsisters, and thoughtful little brothers; but no satisfactory answer could\nbe given.\n\nThe father would hasten to the city as often as \"mail day\" returned and\nwatch for the ponderous stagecoach, but come back more moderately, with a\nshadow upon his countenance, and \"No letter!\" \"No letter!\" would deepen the\nsorrow of the circle. One day the son \"Siah\" was sent, and in an unusually\nshort time was seen coming over the hill with a speed so unlike a\ndisappointed lad that the watchful mother was \"sure the dear boy had\ntidings.\" Her lip trembled as she motioned to the father and called out,\n\"Where's Esther? Where's Sam? Call 'em all in. Siah's coming real fast;\nI guess he's got a letter from Betsey!\" \"How he does ride!\" says Hannah.\n\"Dear fellow, I most know he's got a letter!\" \"Yis, yis,\" says little\nsharp-eyed Sam; \"see, he holds suthin' white higher'n his head.\" Sure\nenough, on comes the rider, flourishing in his hand the long-looked-for\nmessage from the absent one!\n\nIt was but the work of a moment for the excited lad to leap upon the block,\nthrow the bridle over the post, and run in, letter in hand, vociferating,\n\"Don't ye worry any more about Betsey; she's all safe and sound. See, it's\nin her own handwrite.\" \"Yis, daddy, and stuck together with that same red\nwax you gin her,\" says little Sam.\n\nRuth breaks the seal and finds a large sheet, and closely written. A glance\nfrom the father brings the house to silence, and she begins to read. Never\na letter began with more tender words or in a sweeter spirit; but all\nsounds so precise and awfully solemn that the voice of the reader falters;\ntears fill the eyes of the mother and sisters; the father turns pale;\nlittle Sam looks frightened and grips his mother's arm, while Josiah sobs\naloud. But the resolute reader moves steadily on, and only breaks down when\nshe reaches the name, \"Your loving daughter and sister, Elizabeth Ward.\"\n\nThese words stung that proud father to the quick. To hear his darling's\nname attached to _such_ a letter, and find his cherished plans thwarted\nforever, was more than he could endure. He arose in a paroxysm of wrath and\nleft the house. The mother, watching him, became greatly alarmed, for she\nhad never seen him so angry.\n\nAs the boys lead the horse to the stable the girls take the letter to their\nroom, where they weep much, pray some, and read over and over again that\nstrange document.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nELIZABETH'S ALIENATION FROM THE ANCESTRAL FAITH.\n\nElizabeth Ward was the eldest of six children. She had a tall, straight\nform, rather stern and dignified airs, a keen black eye, and a beautiful\ncountenance, though rather on the masculine order. Her father, Samuel Ward,\nwas a wealthy farmer and stock grower and a skillful horseman. He had\ndetermined to give this, his eldest daughter, a liberal education, and have\nher assist in the instruction of her sisters. She proved so easy to learn,\nand showed such aptitude and application in study, that he afforded her the\nbest opportunities given young ladies in New England at that day. And\nin his pride of horsemanship he took much pains to make her a skillful\nequestrienne, and never seemed prouder than when riding out with Elizabeth\nby his side upon an elegant steed in costly equipage. To carry out\nhis notions for the perfection of her accomplishments, he sent her to\nPittsfield, Mass., among wealthy and cultured relatives, to devote a year\nor two to association with elegant society. And to avoid that horror of the\nreal Yankee's dreams, \"shiftlessness,\" she was to take up a small select\nschool for employment. There too, as at home, she must have a splendid\nhorse at her command, and no cost must be spared to make her equipage, as\nwell as wardrobe, as elegant as the best. Morning and evening rides must\nbe kept up for health and recreation, but not less to indulge a doting\nfather's pride.\n\nShe found her new situation very agreeable. Her relatives were educated and\nfashionable, and soon became very dear to her heart. Her school consisted\nof a suitable number of misses from wealthy families, as cheerful as the\nlarks and as gay as butterflies. Her opulent friends very readily entered\ninto her father's plans, and were especially delighted with her experience\nand skill in horsemanship; and a sufficient number equipped and joined her\nin this healthy movement to insure her the best of company in her morning\nand evening rides. And her popularity as an equestrienne fed her pride,\nand her gay letters home were full of it, and very agreeable to her proud\nfather. Nor did the rapid improvement of her associates in this elegant\naccomplishment, under her teaching and example, escape the notice of their\nfond parents and of their townsmen, and \"The way that tall schoolmarm rides\nis wonderful!\" was spoken by many an observer, and many a young woman\nenvied the proud troop \"their chance to learn how to ride a-horseback.\"\n\nIn the daily excursions of these gay cousins they sometimes passed, on\na retired street, the meeting place of \"a new and strange people called\nMethodists.\" Jesse Lee, George Roberts, Francis Asbury, and others, mighty\nmen of God, had just gone over New England like a thundering legion,\nproclaiming everywhere a \"free salvation for all, even for John Calvin's\n'reprobates.'\" They had glorious success, even in cold New England, and of\nthe fruit of the revivals which attended their labors formed many small but\nexcellent \"societies.\" One of these was established in Pittsfield.\n\nThe sweet and moving singing of these people arrested the attention of our\nheroine and her friends as they occasionally rode by; and, pausing in their\nsaddles to listen, enough of a tune would get into their heads and keep\nringing there to turn their course that way again. Catching a charming\ntune, they \"must get the words, at least a verse or two.\" So, from pausing\noutside to listen, they grew bolder, tied their horses, and civilly sat\ndown inside, not only charmed with the songs, but curious to hear the\nfervent prayers and testimonies and occasional shouts of this bright-faced\ncompany. When their friends said anything against this people as being\n\"unpopular,\" or \"despised,\" these young fashionables would sing them a\nMethodist verse or two, and perhaps join in the ridicule by mimicking their\nshouts. And yet in their sober judgment they honored these honest and\ndevout worshipers for their fervent piety and zeal, and wondered at their\nrapturous joys. But they were quite mistaken in their confidence that an\noccasional attendance upon worship so spiritual was perfectly safe. The\nHoly Spirit dwelt with this people. These gay young attendants became the\nsubjects of mighty prayers and powerful exhortations. Bows, \"drawn at a\nventure,\" threw arrows with great force. The Spirit directed one to\nthe proud but honest heart of Elizabeth Ward, and she was \"thoroughly\nawakened.\" Perhaps in the few prayer meetings these young people had\ndropped into within the past year they had imbibed more gospel truth than\nin all their former lives. But the songs which had so captivated them, many\nof which they had learned to sing, had struck those truths into the mind\nindelibly, and had so enlisted the moral nature of Elizabeth that the Holy\nGhost had written convicting impressions upon the inner tablet of her\nheart. She did not long resist this new \"conscience of sins.\" She clearly\nsaw and deeply felt that she was a sinner, and on the way to ruin. In more\nof desperation than hope she set out to \"flee from the wrath to come.\"\n\nIn this state of alarm, she walked alone to the Methodist prayer meeting,\nmade known her convictions and purposes, and sought instruction and help.\nShe returned from that meeting feeling that she had almost entered a new\nworld. Gospel hope, now for the first time in her life, began to spring up\nin her heart. She had settled the question of submission to her Maker, and\nbegan to seek Him with purpose of heart, resolved to confess and forsake\nher sins and seek pardon and peace in Jesus Christ. Still, as to several of\nthe counsels of her new religious instructors she was undecided, because\nnot yet convinced. They advised her to seek the Lord \"by prayer and\nsupplication.\" To \"ask,\" to \"knock,\" to \"call upon Him,\" and especially to\n\"cry unto the Lord with her voice.\" But she had been taught from infancy\nthat \"none but the elect should pray; nor even they until regenerated by\nsovereign grace;\" and that \"no woman should pray or speak in a public\nassembly.\" But a heart overwhelmed with a crushing sense of sin at length\nbroke out, almost against her decision, and cried, \"God be merciful to me\na sinner!\" and such hope of relief sprang up while she prayed as to settle\nthe question of prayer; and thence on for weeks all the relief she found\nwas in prayer and confession; a few crumbs of comfort to encourage her to\npersevere in seeking; for she began to wonder why she had not found peace,\nwhen she had sought so long and tried to give up all for Christ.\n\nOne day, in the retirement of her room, her mirror revealed a gayety of\napparel that struck her as unsuitable for a poor, guilty sinner. The\nfashions of that day were very profuse in ornamentation; and as she saw\nherself in the glass, her eyes red and heavy with weeping, and yet her\nattire as gay and vain as if prepared for a ball, she felt sure that her\nmode of dress had all this time been a hindrance to her; and she then and\nthere concluded to reduce all to plainness, much like the people who had\nled her to penitence. The pride of dress and equipage seemed now to be\nabout the last idol to give up, and, all of her own counsel, she did the\nwork very thoroughly; and as to her abundant jewelry, the result of her\nspontaneous zeal was rather ludicrous. \"Determined that it should never\nprove a snare to any other poor soul as it had to her,\" she passed it all\nunder the hammer until there was nothing left but unseemly lumps of gold\nand silver; the precious stones were utterly demolished.\n\nFrom that work this hitherto gaudy maiden came out as plain as a Quakeress,\nand hastened to the Methodist prayer meeting. Seeing her thus evidently\ntaught of the Holy Spirit, they took hold of her case with new courage as\nshe bowed with them crying for mercy. The prayers of the early Methodists\nwere something wonderful, and this broken-hearted penitent drank into their\nwrestling spirit. They claimed for her the \"exceeding great and precious\npromises,\" with mighty faith; she claimed these promises with them. They\ntook hold on Jesus; she put her hand with theirs into His with a strong and\nsteady grip, and He accepted her.\n\nThe conversion of Elizabeth was instantaneous, and exceedingly clear and\npowerful, and its assurance overwhelming. Her long night was at once turned\ninto day, and that clear daylight was also a blaze of glory. Her joy was\necstatic. Her tall form, which had been gaudily adorned, but now attired\nfor the meek and lowly Saviour, was at times prostrated by divine power,\nand her regenerated soul filled with the rapture of heaven. Night and day,\nfor weeks, her only relief from ecstasy was by settling into solid\npeace, thus alternating from the quiet valley of \"peace that passeth\nunderstanding\" to the glory-crowned hilltops of \"joy unspeakable.\"\n\nAfter a sufficient time had elapsed to demonstrate the genuineness and\nunfading glory of her experience, Elizabeth wrote home a plain account of\nit, concealing nothing. This was the astounding and alienating letter that\nso stirred up things at the Cove.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nTHAT ALARMING MESSAGE.\n\nThe Wards, at the Cove, continued to be much troubled over Elizabeth's\nletter. Had a note or a messenger announced her serious illness, or her\nelopement or sudden death, the first pang would have terminated in some\nsort of relief, or at least a breathing place; but this letter was\nsuffocating, and the dense fog seemed to grow darker as it stretched into\nthe future. \"A religious fanatic!\" \"A Methodist lunatic!\" \"Has our darling\nset out upon such a life?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid it will kill your father; it struck him dumb. I can't draw him\ninto any conversation about her; and he is so angry!\" Thus the troubled\nmother would talk and cry. The sisters and brothers listen to her, and,\nwithout comprehending \"the prospect so awful in Betsey's future life,\"\nwould keep dumb, like \"daddy,\" and cry, like \"mammy.\"\n\nFinding no relief at home, Mrs. Ward consulted their aged parson, \"Priest\nHuntington,\" and placed the ominous letter in his hands; and he took the\ntroublesome document home for professional analysis. It is not to be\nsupposed that the Holy Spirit left this letter to pass through such a\ncrucible alone. The experience it told was substantially His work, and\nthe hand that wrote it was not wholly without His guidance; and now the\ncultured mind which examined it was that of a logical analyst, however\nstrong his prejudice. The old parson was struck with its simplicity\nand soundness, and hastened to the Cove to \"pronounce Miss Elizabeth's\nexperience genuine, and even wonderful,\" and that he believed her to be\n\"one of God's chosen vessels to bear witness of His sovereign grace.\"\n\nSo favorable an opinion from such an authority greatly relieved the\napprehensions of the family; all but the incensed father, who would neither\ntalk nor allow others to talk to him about the absent one for several\nweeks.\n\nAll these were not only precious weeks to Elizabeth, but lengthened out a\nmost valuable epoch of her life. At length the wily parson succeeded\nin getting to the stormy heart of this enraged and unhappy father, and\nportrayed in glowing colors the clearness of Miss Elizabeth's \"effectual\ncall\" and \"blessed hope,\" and managed to bridge over \"that awful slough of\nMethodism\" by descanting gravely upon some of the \"mysterious leadings of\nsovereign grace.\" \"And now, if our dear lamb of the Saviour can be rescued\nfrom those deluded people and carefully instructed in 'the doctrines of\ngrace,' what an ornament she would be to our church with such a brilliant\nexperience, and such 'a burning and shining light!'\"\n\nWhether the hard heart of that father relented, or whether, weary of\nbrooding over his disappointed hopes of a worldly sort, his pride saw\nprospect of indulgence in another direction, we leave it for subsequent\nevents to determine. The kind parson was successful, and Elizabeth was soon\nordered to return home.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nORDER OBEYED.\n\nThe order to \"close up her school and return home\" did not disguise the\nanger of the father over the radical change in Elizabeth's religious\ncondition and associations. But she had ever yielded unquestioning\nobedience to that father's commands; and so with all practicable dispatch\nshe now prepared to comply with the stern and precipitant demand.\n\nIt was painful to be suddenly torn from her agreeable relatives in\nPittsfield; for, although she had departed far from their notions of\ndoctrine, dress, and usage, and fully adopted the principles and spirit of\na new and despised people, they had never reproached her for her religion,\nbut, deeply impressed with the genuineness of her experience and sweetness\nof her Christian spirit, had regarded and treated her with tenderness and\nrespect.\n\nIt was not easy to bid adieu to her pupils who clung to her with much\naffection. But it was the hardest parting from the church which had led her\nto the Saviour. But here, too, grace triumphed, and she spoke rapturously\nof meeting that dear people \"where parting will be no more;\" and, catching,\nas if by divine suggestion, a strong presentiment, she declared her\nimpression that even in this life they should enjoy each other's society\nagain--\"even in this blessed place, where my sins were forgiven and I\nhave received such valuable lessons and enjoyed such glorious seasons of\ncommunion with God and His people. Pray for me!\"\n\n\"We will continue to pray for you, dear sister; and we too hope that our\nheavenly Father may so order your lot that you may meet with us again in\nthe place of your espousal to Christ; but let us so live that we may all\nmeet in glory.\" And then they broke forth into song:\n\n  \"Amen, amen, my soul replies;\n  I'm bound to meet you in the skies,\n  And claim my mansion there!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\nTHE FIERY FURNACE.\n\nElizabeth's reception at her father's surprised her by its coolness and\nreserve, as if she were a stranger or a visitor.\n\nAt once a happy thought struck her with great force: \"If my religious\nprofession puts such a distance between me and all my father's family, the\nthrone of grace must, if possible, unite us.\" So, before retiring for the\nfirst night's rest, she asked and obtained authority to set up a family\naltar, and for some months at least one of that family enjoyed freedom of\nspirit and tenderness of heart.\n\nParson Huntington visited her with much paternal kindness; and although, in\npresence of her joyous piety, he often seemed embarrassed, yet he remained\ntrue to his first conclusion as to the \"effectual character of her call and\nblessed hope.\" But the promised \"teaching\" found her a less tractable\npupil than he had hoped and led the father to hope. She ever treated his\ninstructions with profound respect, but seemed to be a dull learner. Alas,\nthat she was all the while imbibing more than they or she supposed! Still,\nthe predestinarian aliment did not set well on her palate, or nourish her\nyoung and tender graces of spirit. Her father sought to confine her to that\nsort of diet--at home, at church, everywhere; for his only hope of rescuing\nher from Methodism seemed to center in a thorough course of Calvinian\ninstruction, excluding with rigid surveillance everything Arminian.\n\nBut she longed for the food her soul had fed upon with such relish and\nprofit; and, after a while, hearing that the little Methodist society of\nMiddletown held noon class meetings, not far from the church which she\nwas required to attend, she often managed to slip out during part of the\nintermission and go and commune with that humble few in class meeting. This\nfellowship, with a diligent attention to closet devotions and Scripture\nstudy, and conducting family worship, kept up a subdued but living piety.\n\nBut at length her clandestine attendance of class meetings was discovered,\nand father and parson were highly indignant, for they saw their cherished\nhopes blasted, and, in their mortification, severer discipline was decided\nupon. \"She must be closely watched and confined at home; her favorite horse\ntaken from her; her conducting of family worship suspended; her familiarity\nwith her sisters\" (who somewhat sympathized with her) \"much abridged.\" The\nkitchen maid was dismissed, and the tall, delicate Elizabeth was driven to\nthe drudgery of kitchen and washroom, and ordered to \"be quiet and diligent\nas a servant,\" under charge of having proved herself \"unworthy of a\ndaughter's place in the family!\" To this servile toil Elizabeth submitted\nwithout a murmur, and patiently plodded on, her strong constitution and\nheroic courage and steady faith bearing her up. But the accusation of\n\"ingratitude and disobedience\" was so false and severe as to be very\ndepressing to her spirits. And, never having been inured to hard labor or\nparental censure, these double tribulations were almost crushing; and to\nhelp her courage she kept up the low, almost inaudible hum of the sweet\ntunes she had so loved to sing among her chosen people, and, thus\nabstracted, toiled on week after week.\n\nSuch patience proved provoking, especially as what could be detected of the\ntunes, in the snatches heard, indicated to her father's enraged feelings a\nstubborn attachment to that people from whom he was trying to wean her; so\neven this little comfort was sternly denied her; and, while strength was\ngradually giving way under her heavy burdens, she was compelled to toil on\nin silence. Under all these sore trials not only her angry father but the\nevil one kept up the accusation of \"stubborn disobedience.\"\n\nAt length she broke down under her burdens and troubles. Health, courage,\nand joy in the Lord gave way together. For the drill of Parson Huntington\nin Calvinian theology for nearly a year past now came up, enforced by the\ninstructions of childhood, with fresh power; and she began to suspect\nthat she was one of the \"ordained reprobates,\" \"passed by and doomed from\neternity to endless ruin!\" The whole system of \"free grace,\" impartial\natonement, and the Spirit's assurance, in the light and joy of which she\nhad exulted for months in Pittsfield, and been so comforted in these\nsubsequent months of hardship and false accusation, strangely faded before\nthese childhood and recent instructions; and gradually this pupil of\nAugustine and Calvin sank into the doctrinal abyss of the \"horrible\ndecrees.\" Nor would her broken and depressed spirits allow these sudden\nconclusions to affect her as abstract dogmas. They struck her, by Satanic\npower, like lightning, as terribly personal realities. \"I, even I,\nElizabeth Ward, have been awfully deceived! I am one of the reprobates! I\nhave preferred my father's commands to God's favor! I have committed the\n'unpardonable sin!'\"\n\nHow unaccountable is desponding unbelief! how ingenious and active under\ndiabolical management! The Holy Spirit quoted to this poor, despondent girl\n\"the precious promises,\" but she \"refused to be comforted,\" and hastened to\npass them all over to \"the elect.\" He called to mind her rich experiences.\nThey seemed to her far off in clouds of dim dreamland, and she called them\na reprobate's delusions, \"sent\" on purpose to make her \"believe a lie that\nshe might be damned.\" He called her attention to the blessed word, to\nprayer and praise. She promptly swept all such observances away from\nreprobates to the ransomed \"few,\" and, gnashing her teeth in anguish, sank\nto _utter despair!_\n\nWe will not attempt to describe a conscious reprobate, \"passed by\" and\n\"ordained from eternity\" to all eternity a lost soul! Such was the dark,\ndank night that settled down upon Elizabeth as she sank under her burdens,\nher temptations, and cruel, wicked unbelief. In this dismal, hopeless \"hell\nupon earth\" she pined away for weeks and months, utterly shrinking from\nBible reading, prayer, song, or religious conversation, and studiously\nguarding against religious reasoning, and even thought, as abominable for a\n\"reprobate.\"\n\nIt is not easy, in this age of religious liberty, to understand or\napologize for such intolerance as Mr. Ward and Parson Huntington exhibited\ntoward this innocent Methodist girl. But it should be remembered in\ncharity:\n\n1. That that age was about a century nearer the long period of persecution\nthan this.\n\n2. That a stern and terrible system of religious doctrines prevailed\nthroughout New England at that day, not fruitful in charity, nor respectful\ntoward any faith that differed from it.\n\n3. That Methodism was new there then, and generally misunderstood, and such\nof its features as were correctly read were intensely hated--even such as\nare now admired and revered.\n\n4. That parents, especially fathers, were then allowed by public opinion to\nhold more control over the consciences of their children, and variations\nfrom ancestral faith, and even ancestral error, not so frequent as now.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\nGREAT VICTORIES.\n\nSeven months of despair had now worn slowly away. This poor supposed\n\"reprobate\" had all that time been buffeted by Satan without mercy. She had\nwasted to a skeleton. Her large, sharp eye had become heavy and lusterless,\nand her ruddy cheek pale and sunken, and every expression sad and hopeless;\nand the \"enemy of all righteousness\" got into a hurry to secure his prize,\nand brought all his arts to bear upon the suggestion of suicide!\n\nSuch a temptation aroused her to a sense of her real danger--no longer the\nvictim of ingenious devices to harbor gloomy forebodings, but a wretched\nsinner, about to destroy soul and body in hell, on the verge of destruction\nto character, and all good influences by an act of her own! Desperately,\nin spite of her dread of prayer, she cried to God against that dreadful\ntemptation, and instantly she had full victory over it. The eyes, long\ndried in the desert of despair, were moistened with tears of wonder and\ngratitude. Astonished at such a clear answer to prayer, she prayed again\nfor deliverance from Satan's power and all his enchantments, and they fled\naway like the shadow of a cloud. Her dungeon flamed with light, before\nwhich the horrible decrees also vanished, falling into line, and following\ntheir author to the land of darkness, never to trouble her more.\n\nThe light shone on, more and more; and although at dead of night, her room\nseemed to her to shine above the brightness of the sun at noonday; and the\ndoctrines of free grace seemed to flash about her with transcendent glory,\nuntil investing her entire being. She knew she was not a reprobate; for God\nhad heard her desperate cry against that greatest of sins. She saw in God's\nown light the blessed assurance that Jesus died for her and for all; and in\ndriving away the enemy and the dense cloud of error, that had long shrouded\nher dungeon in Egyptian darkness, she clearly saw glorious demonstrations\nof divine clemency in store for her. She deplored her unbelief, and humbly\nsought forgiveness and full restoration; and there, and then, by faith in\nJesus, she accepted Him again as her Saviour.\n\nInstantly her raptures returned, with more than their former power and\nglory, and she went off into a perfect gale of ecstasy. Such sounds had\nnever been heard in that mansion before, and the family hastened to learn\nthe cause. There lay the wasted form upon what they thought to be the bed\nof death. Her thin arms were stretched upward, and her pale hands came\ntogether with frequency and energy quite remarkable. Her countenance seemed\nlighted up with an unearthly glow, and her words were ready and full of\nheavenly felicity, and uttered with a strength and sweetness of voice quite\nbeyond her power. All these evidences, added to the fact that their tender\nand anxious questions remained unanswered, and their presence and weeping\nseemed entirely unnoticed, struck them as demonstrations that \"the angels\nhad come for poor, dear Betsey,\" and that in her triumphant flight from her\ncruel sufferings \"she had already passed beyond them, and would never speak\nto them again.\"\n\nAfter some time, however, she seemed to them to have been brought back\nby their lamentations and self-accusations, and, hushing them to silent\nattention, she assured them that this was \"not dying,\" but \"living, and\npreparing to live,\" by a return of her first love and a glorious victory\nover temptation and error.\n\nFrom that blessed night her convalescence was much more rapid than anyone\nhad thought possible. Peace of mind is a marvelous restorer, especially\nwhen despondency has driven health away.\n\nOn a beautiful morning, a few weeks after, Elizabeth was agreeably\nsurprised by an unexpected announcement made at the door of her room. She\nhad had remarkable liberty that morning in conducting family prayer, which\nby consent of her parents she resumed soon after her recent victory. Her\nfather came to her door, and, in a voice which sounded so much like the\ngood days gone by, announced his plan for \"a short ride.\" Her own horse was\nat the block; and as the strong arms of her father placed her in the saddle\nthe noble beast gave signs of joy over her returning health.\n\nThe horseman by her side, in the ride of that and several following\nmornings, seemed agitated by conflicting emotions, yet making special\nefforts to be social and attentive. O, how she enjoyed those morning rides!\nYet now and then she felt, though she could scarcely tell why, that a\nstrange agitation, embarrassed her father's spirits. Was he trying to\nmuster courage to acknowledge his wrong in persecuting her? Was he really\n\"under concern\" for his own soul? or was he unhappy because she was not\nmore gay and worldly? It was useless for her to conjecture; he was a\nreticent man, and allowed no one to meddle with his thoughts.\n\nShe had now nearly regained her usual strength, and the time drew near for\nher to attend church. One morning, after a pleasant ride of unusual length,\ndrawing near home, the father broke out in tremulous tones: \"Now, Betsey,\nyou won't go with the Methodists any more, will you? I can't allow it--no\nmore at all. I command you to have nothing more to do with that people.\"\n\nThey had reached the block, and the agitated girl hastened to her room, and\nmost of the day and evening she was seeking the \"wisdom that cometh from\nabove.\" She easily settled all questions but one. She saw clearly what\nsystem of doctrines she must subscribe to and advocate and exemplify; what\nmeans of grace she needed and must have and honor by her attendance; and\nshe knew where her heart centered, and where her covenant vows must be\ntaken and fellowship cultivated and enjoyed. All was plain as noonday\nexcept her father's commands and her duty to him. This last problem she\nlaid before the Lord; and no sooner was it fully committed to him than the\nHoly Spirit quoted the filial duty with a peculiar emphasis to her heart:\n\"Obey your parents in the Lord.\" \"He that loveth father or mother more than\nMe is not worthy of Me.\"\n\nHer line of duty was now fully decided, cost what it might. Saturday\nmorning they were again in their saddles, and side by side, beginning a\nlong ride in silence. Elizabeth was desirous of telling her story and\nkindly explaining her views of duty, and, obtaining permission, she began\nat the beginning and rehearsed the dealings of God with her up to that\nhour. She then declared her filial affection and her readiness to obey\nimplicitly in all matters where duty to God and conscience would permit.\nFinally, she appealed to her father \"not to hinder or embarrass her, seeing\nthe Lord had so marvelously rescued her from the power of the enemy and\nsnatched her from the very jaws of death and ruin.\"\n\nAll this time the stern man had kept silence. They were nearing home. He\nopened his mouth and firmly told her that he \"should at once and finally\ndisinherit her if she went to Methodist meeting again!\"\n\nNo more was said. Elizabeth that day looked upon all the familiar objects\nabout that dear old home of her childhood as no longer hers in any sense.\nHer pets, especially her noble horse; her home, in which she was born and\nreared; the sick room, where she had suffered unutterable horrors and\ngained such memorable victories; her own dear room, where she was finally\nto spend that, her last night, as having any right there. She came, at\nlast, late in the evening, to sweet slumbers in the \"peace that passeth\nunderstanding.\"\n\nEarly Sunday morning she was plainly attired and slowly walking toward her\nbeloved church, a plain chapel in a part of the city of Middletown near two\nmiles from the Cove. There she feasted upon the word and publicly gave in\nher name as a probationer in the Methodist Episcopal Church.\n\nFrom that moment she was afloat--out on the broad sea of life, without\na home; a disowned, disinherited girl! She left home this morning, a\ncomfortable, stately, dear old home of wealth, elegance, and affection. She\nmust not return to it to-night. She was but yesterday an heiress. To-day\nshe is poor, a wanderer in the earth. But she has at last a church-home,\nand her life really begins to-day. Father and mother have cast her off for\nher religion, but \"the Lord hath taken her up.\" She is not without friends.\nSeveral doors are open for her. Almost before she knows she is homeless she\nhas resumed her work of teaching and has a delightful home in a Methodist\nfamily.\n\nThus favorably situated for study, she takes up the doctrines of the Gospel\nas believed and taught by the Methodists, and makes rapid proficiency.\nHer pastor, one of the flaming heralds of early Methodism in New England,\nfurnished her with the best of reading, and all her associates in the\nstudies and active work of Zion wondered at the rapid progress of the\ndisinherited girl. Little could they realize how vividly those doctrines\nshone in her heart as she came out of the \"fiery furnace,\" and how\nintensely interested she now was in principles which had cost her so much,\nyet were worth, in her account, infinitely more, and well deserved to be\nstudied and propagated.\n\nA young man belonging to the Methodists of that city now enters into our\nnarrative. He is above the ordinary size, about twenty-eight years of age,\nand some four or five years before this was clearly converted under the\npreaching of Bishop Asbury. He also is a teacher, and a very sound, logical\nstudent of Methodist doctrines and usages.\n\nIt is not many months before it is noticed that a mutual attachment seems\nto be springing up between this young man and Elizabeth, above the ordinary\nsympathies of teachers and church classmates. And as they had been\nacquainted from childhood, and fully understood each other's history and\nfamilies, and were members together of a society of plain people, they did\nnot consider a long courtship necessary. They were both of Yankee stock,\nboth escaping from Calvinism and ardently attached to Methodism, both\nstudious and competent to teach, and loved to teach, and both were active\nworkers in the church they ardently loved.\n\nSo Joshua Arnold, aged twenty-nine, and Elizabeth Ward, aged twenty-one,\nwere united in holy matrimony in the charming month of May, the last\nyear of the eighteenth century. Thus closed the maiden life and homeless\nloneliness of the disinherited daughter.\n\nShe had been ruthlessly turned out of a stately mansion which she loved as\nher birthplace and childhood home, disinherited from her rightful heirship\nto several thousands, and disowned by her family, whose well-being she had\nfaithfully labored to promote, and all for no fault of hers, but wholly\nfor a matter of conscience and principle. But in less than a year she was\nsettled in life in a home of which she was mistress, with a worthy husband,\nof church membership and affinities like her own, and in the free enjoyment\nof church privileges and holy fellowships, for which her persecuted soul\nhad \"panted as the hart panteth for the water brooks.\"\n\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\n\nTHE GREAT WORK OF LIFE.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\nELIZABETH AS MISTRESS OF THE \"COTTAGE CHAPEL.\"\n\nOne of the most natural consultations of the newly married couple is the\nplan of their first house. How chatty and cheery a pair of newly mated\nbirds appear, in counsel over their nest-building! This schoolmaster and\nmistress are home from their toil and care for the day, and are again\ndevoting an evening to the scheme of their first dwelling. It is not a\nlarge or magnificent concern, but it has already been neatly draughted,\ncarefully considered, and builders' estimates footed up. All seems to be\nabout right; but Elizabeth has gone off into a brown study. Her countenance\nbetrays unusual agitation, and her pensive eye is filled with tears. Her\nhusband supposes she is thinking of the mansion from which she has been\nspurned, as contrasted with the humble dwelling they are planning, but she\nhastens to correct the mistake and assure him that her musings were in the\nopposite direction entirely. \"I was thinking of our dear people, and how\nmuch they need in this suburb of the town some place to hold meetings in.\nAnd this thought struck my mind almost like an inspiration: Why not extend\nour plan up high enough for an 'upper room' for meetings?\" This notion,\ncarefully considered, not only in these consultations but in the prayers\nthat closed them, impressed them both as a divine suggestion. The house was\nbuilt accordingly. An outside staircase gave access to the upper story,\nwhich was all finished off in a rough, cheap manner for a chapel, and\nimmediately and for a few years was occupied by the Methodist people of the\nsouth part of Middletown and of the farms adjoining, for prayer meetings,\nclass meetings, and occasional exhortation and preaching.\n\nAmong the church privileges which had cost this disinherited daughter so\ndearly few ever equaled in sweet enjoyment this cottage chapel arrangement.\nShe no longer had to steal away and snatch a few minutes once or twice a\nmonth to associate with the advocates of free grace, as she once did, nor\nbe shut entirely away from their beloved society, as for nearly a year, in\nthat terrible season of persecution and despair. The church she loved came\nto her door. Her home echoed their prayers, songs, testimonies, and shouts.\nShe lived, toiled, ate, and slept under the shadow of the hallowed \"upper\nroom,\" so often, like the one in Jerusalem, \"filled with the Holy Ghost.\"\nShe knew, as no one else could, how much such privileges had cost her, but\nstill insisted that they never cost a tithe of what they were worth. Nor\nwas the gratification of this ardent lover of Methodism the chief result of\nthis chapel arrangement. There the Church found asylum from persecution;\nand if we may estimate the value of such a refuge from the alarm of the\nenemy it must have proved a precious boon. Often were the pious band\nobliged to come early and lock themselves in to escape the fury of the mob,\nwhich would curse and mock without. But sometimes, unable to reach them or\nseriously to annoy them by their howlings, they would vent their spite\nupon the premises. Now it would be by breaking windows. Again, finding the\nwindows guarded with thick board blinds, they would tear down fences, fill\nthe well with wood, etc. In several instances it came out in one way and\nanother that some attendant of the \"standing order\" furnished the rum that\nstimulated the rabble to make these attempts to drive off these \"deceivers\nof the last days, that should deceive the very elect.\" But \"the more they\nafflicted them the more they multiplied and grew;\" so that in a few years\nthe place became \"too strait for them.\" Even members of the mob of one\nmeeting would be \"awakened\" while listening for something to mock, and\nscarcely able to restrain themselves, while with their comrades they would\ncome early to the next meeting, get fastened in with the pious and the\npenitent, and, making humble confession, seek and find salvation, and\nbecome lively members of the church they had persecuted.\n\nWho can estimate the amount of good done in that \"upper room\" at the dawn\nof the nineteenth century? \"When God writeth up his people\" of how many\nwill it be counted, \"This man was born there?\" Who can stand on the hill\nwhere once stood that unpretending home with a \"meeting house\" on the top\nof it, and look over to University Hill, crowned with those Methodist halls\nof science and art, and see no connection between the humble seed-sowing\nand the waving harvest?\n\nSoon after the supersedure of this chapel loft Mrs. Elizabeth began to\nreckon her work nearly done in Middletown; and, a good offer being about\nthat time made for their valuable situation, she began to hope and pray for\nthe accomplishment of a cherished longing to live near the place of her\nspiritual birth.\n\nMr. Arnold had followed two lines of business from his majority: Teaching\nthrough the long winters of New England, and coast trading summers. He was\nbrought up a farmer, but fancied that he had but little genius for that\nvocation. After his marriage and settlement he shortened up his summer\nsailing, giving himself time during spring and autumn to cultivate, or at\nleast plant and reap, his rich little place.\n\nWith the growing cares of the family the wife and mother was desirous to\n\"get him away from the water\" and settle down upon a farm. As they pondered\nthe question, and committed it in prayer to Him whom they trusted to \"set\nthe bounds of their habitations,\" they seemed to hear in gentle whispers,\n\"Ye have compassed this mountain long enough;\" \"Arise, for this is not your\nrest.\"\n\nSo they concluded to sell out their first home, bid adieu to the beloved\nchurch at Middletown, and try to find a home somewhere near Pittsfield,\nMass.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nRELIGIOUS PRIVILEGES AND ENJOYMENTS.\n\nThe religious ecstasies experienced by Elizabeth in Pittsfield during her\nyoung convert days had impressed her very deeply, and left a pleasant\nnotion of a paradise upon earth. It was a sort of dreamy vision of the\nglory of Zion at her best. It had come to her many times in the intervening\nyears with marked force. It was not the picture of wealth, or ease, or\nluxury, or any worldly good; but the notion of a settlement near the place\nwhere she first found pardon and peace to her soul, and where she could\nenter again most heartily into those rich fellowships and rapturous\nenjoyments which she then found, heightened and intensified by a deeper and\nbroader experience, maturing now for near a decade.\n\nBut Providence seems to have had other and higher designs, and evidently\nguided her course to the indulgence of these blissful fancies. In a short\ntime they had purchased and settled upon a rich farm, of moderate size,\nupon the Housatonic River, in Lenox, near Pittsfield, Mass.\n\nPrecious, indeed, were now her privileges. The word was ably preached\nand was a feast to her soul. Her church associates were all that she had\ndesired, and much more numerous than she had expected, and they were living\nall around her. She was also near her beloved relatives, and that sacred\nplace where she first found the Saviour, precious to her soul.\n\n  \"There is a spot to me more dear than native vale or mountain;\n  A spot for which affection's tear flows freely from its fountain.\n  'Tis not where kindred souls abound, though that on earth is heaven,\n  But where I first my Saviour found, and knew my sins forgiven.\"\n\nShe was greatly blessed in all these privileges. It seemed, indeed, \"a\nheaven to go to heaven in.\" But still she found emotions of loneliness, at\ntimes, which she could not explain--an indefinite fear lest she become so\nfilled and satisfied with these religious luxuries as to lose sight of\nstern diligence in the Master's work.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nELIZABETH AS AN EVANGELISTIC LABORER.\n\nRejoicing greatly with \"the ninety and nine,\" the pious zeal of Elizabeth\nwept over \"the lost sheep in the wilderness,\" and she longed to go out\namong the mountains as a personal coworker with the chief Shepherd and\nbring them to the fold. In fact, her ideal of the destitute regions she\nhad dreamed of was substantially answered by territory near her home, and\nprovidentially brought to her notice.\n\nOn \"Washington Mountain\" were several neighborhoods of irreligious settlers\nat the beginning of the nineteenth century. Our itinerant ministers had\noccasionally passed; over the foothills and given off a message or two\namong these neglected inhabitants, but in the main they were destitute of\nGospel truth and the means of grace. Elizabeth had not been more than\na year or two in the adjoining valley before she more clearly saw that\nevangelical labor, as well as religious privileges, had providentially\ncalled the family to their present location.\n\nTrue, she was a woman, and the Master had chosen \"men to preach,\" and\n\"women to guide the house,\" and win souls in a quiet manner. But she could\nattend faithfully to household affairs, and also do something as a private\nmember to lead sinners to Jesus, even though miles away on the dark\nmountain; for she was an expert rider, very spry and strong, and only\nthirty years of age, and had a fleet, easy horse that could climb those\nslopes and fly across those table-lands and be back home in a few hours.\n\nSo, in the name and fear of the Lord, this cultured woman began among the\nrough settlers of Washington Mountain as a religious visitor from, house\nto house. At first her visits were between 1 P.M. and sunset; but as the\npeople became awakened, and gathered in groups, requiring more exhortation\nand wrestling prayer, she spent more time with them, frequently mounting\nher boy behind her for company, and always reaching home before she slept.\nLocal preachers and exhorters followed up the work. The circuit preachers,\nby an occasional visit, gathered the lambs into folds, and thus the fields\nwere cultivated, while this pioneer woman searched out other destitute\ngroups and introduced them to Gospel privileges and blessings.\n\nIn this rapid riding and visiting, as a true shepherdess, hunting up the\nlost, she cautiously occupied mostly fair afternoons, and on an average,\nin moderate weather, only one or two afternoons a week. But in a few years\neven that amount of time, well employed, produced glorious results. Her\nwork in this line was somewhat like that of a modern \"Bible reader,\" only\nthat it was much more rapid. What would her father have thought, when\nteaching his proud daughter horsemanship, if he had been told what use she\nwould make of it?\n\nWhat a contrast between the riding done by this woman now, and a dozen\nyears ago in the same county! In skill, and speed of movement, and grace\nof attitude she is much the same; but how different her dress, her\ncountenance, her aims and hopes! Her father then was proud of his darling;\nnow, how mortified and angry would he be could he see her spring to her\nsaddle and start off toward Washington Mountain, in search of souls! \"God\nseeth not as man seeth.\" Then he beheld the \"proud afar off,\" but now\n\"giveth grace to the humble,\" and crowneth her labors with divine approval\nand success, while he giveth to her heart the \"peace that passeth\nunderstanding,\" and the sweet promise that \"they that turn many to\nrighteousness shall shine as the stars forever and ever!\"\n\nWhat Mrs. Elizabeth did to save souls on the mountain was only in the line\nof extraordinary labors, and was not made an excuse for neglecting any of\nher ordinary church duties. As before observed, her visits being mainly in\nfair weather, and only once or twice a week, except in times of revival,\nshe counted them as many people do one or two weekly recreations, not\nallowed to interfere with anything else.\n\nIndeed, they did not satisfy her own zeal for extraordinary work. She\nscattered some of the young people of the mountain among the Methodist\nfamilies of Lenox and Pittsfield as domestic help, greatly to their\nadvantage. She invited her church associates to her house for extra prayer\nmeetings, for the special benefit of serious persons from the mountain and\nother neglected neighborhoods nearer her home, thus bringing them under\nstrong religious influences. Of course all the young laborers from the\nmountain, working for families not too far off, would want to attend such\nmeetings and see their kindred, and their employers would encourage them\nand lead them to faithful cross-bearing on such occasions.\n\nShe even set up a private school for neglected children, and her church\nclassmates put some of their own children into it \"to help leaven it,\" as\nshe suggested, and it became, in answer to their united prayers, a revival\nschool. One family[1] who thus assisted her had two little boys converted\nin her school, right among the ragged, ignorant children, and they grew\nso strong in the work of these daily prayer meetings that one of them[2]\nbecame an able itinerant minister, and the other,[3] in the wilderness to\nwhich both families subsequently moved, became a class leader, having\nfor several years some of these same schoolmates (then, like himself, in\nmidlife) in his class, and even Mr. and Mrs. Arnold themselves and several\nof their children! So glorious are often the compensations of true zeal,\neven in \"the life that now is.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: That of Thomas Hubbard.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Rev. Elijah B. Hubbard.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Jabez Hubbard.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nREMOVAL TO A WILDERNESS COUNTRY.\n\nHow mysterious are the leadings of Providence! The most inviting scenes,\nthe happiest state of society, the richest farm lands, the best educational\nfacilities, sometimes fail to content even good people who live not to get\nrich, but to fulfill their mission in the service of their \"generation by\nthe will of God.\"\n\nThe young man marked by the Redeemer for a Gospel herald is not the only\nsort of Christian who feels uneasy in the crowded nursery, and groans to be\ntorn out and transplanted on some bleak hillside where, shaken by fierce\nwinds, his roots may strike deep, his branches spread wide, and he bear\nmuch fruit.\n\nFamilies have thus caught the emigrating spirit in sufficient numbers to\nform clans of pioneer evangelists, and torn themselves out of little Edens\nto found colonies in dreary moral deserts; and as \"the kingdom comes\" with\nmore rapid strides such single-eyed emigrations will become more frequent.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\nVOLNEY, OSWEGO COUNTY, NEW YORK.\n\nWe are now suddenly introduced into a new country of heavy timber. The\npeople have settled near together, and yet so thick are the woods, and so\nsmall the clearings, that nearly every family is alone, and cannot see out\nin any direction but by looking up toward heaven, a habit they learned\nbefore settling in these woods.\n\nIt is a Massachusetts colony from Lenox, Pittsfield, and Washington\nMountain. These people came here for two purposes: to \"get land for their\nchildren,\" and to \"take the new country for God and Methodism.\" But the\nlast object was first, and ever held its rank.\n\nAs you call around upon these detached families you find them thoughtful,\nintelligent, and decidedly religious; although each family is alone in the\nwoods, they are not very lonesome, for familiar sounds reach them almost\nevery hour of the day. The deep-sounding cow bells, the dinner horns, the\nring of the ax, and the thunder of the falling tree keep them in happy\nremembrance of their brethren and of their diligence and success, and often\nwake the anticipation of the coming Sabbath, when they will blend their\nsongs and prayers around the mercy seat.\n\nAnd now the longed-for Sunday morning has dawned. The woodman's ax lies\nstill, the dinner horn hangs upon its peg, and no treefall breaks the\nsacred silence. The half-burned \"backlog\" is buried in ashes on the broad\nstone hearth, and the door of each log cabin is simply shut--it needs no\nlock--and from every direction all the people are seen approaching a large\nlog dwelling in a small clearing of central situation. It is the newest\nhouse in the settlement, as its occupants have been here only a few weeks.\nBut they are well known in the colony, and have cordially \"opened their\ndoors\" and \"provided for the meetings.\"\n\nJoshua and Elizabeth Arnold are once more in their much-loved relation to\nMethodism, the master and mistress of the \"cottage chapel.\" And now, as the\nmeeting hour draws nigh, you see the people entering this little clearing\nby two or three footpaths and two highways, a few in wagons and sleds drawn\nby oxen, but mostly on foot. They are plainly but neatly clad, and every\nrequisite of becoming Sabbath decorum is plainly to be seen in both adults\nand children, and even in young men and misses. The family chairs are\noccupied by the aged and the ailing, while most of the people sit upon\nbenches without backs. The singing is superior, both in the structure of\nthe tunes and the fullness and sweetness of voice of most of the singers.\nSuch tunes as China, Mear, Northfield, Windham, Exhortation, etc., set to\nour most solid hymns and sung with the understanding and in the spirit,\nhave never been excelled, and probably will not be in this world. The\npreaching also is excellent, and the hearing corresponds. Tears are\nabundant, and responses neither scant nor misplaced, and impressions deep.\n\nAt the close of the public service nearly all \"remain for class meeting.\"\nThe speaking is clear, direct, and candid; the singing spontaneous, brief,\nand spirited. When the class meeting closes, hand-shaking and shouts close\nthe scene, and most of the people return immediately home.\n\nNo tobacco smoke has polluted the air of the place. No gossip or worldly\ntalk has profaned the sacred day. Such as by distance, feebleness, or any\nother cause would be likely to fail of coming back to the late afternoon or\nevening meeting are led, if possible, to remain and eat with the family.\nFrom half a dozen to a dozen usually accept of the cordial invitation, and\nfind a strong evangelical influence in the very atmosphere of this place of\nworship.\n\nAt the closing meeting in the latter part of the day some fruit usually\nappears from the personal labors bestowed upon guests between meetings;\nthus putting the divine seal upon the hospitality and influence of the\ncottage chapel.\n\nThe picture of this day is substantially the description of the Sabbaths of\nyears at this meeting place.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\nHARDSHIPS OF THE NEW COLONY.\n\nIt is no small undertaking to reduce heavily timbered lands to farms,\nespecially where there are few, if any, kinds of timber of any market\nvalue, as was the case in the Oswego wilderness subdued by this\nMassachusetts colony and others who settled in with and around about them.\nAll the land had to be cleared twice, and much of it three times, of some\ntons per acre of encumbrances. First, the trees must be felled, cut up,\nrolled into heaps, and burned to ashes. Then the huge stumps must take\na few years to decay, and then be torn out, piled up in heaps, and also\nburned. Last, but not always least in labor and cost, a burden of stones\nhad to be drawn off from portions of most of the farms and piled in\nheaps or wrought into walls. But our colonists were sober, diligent, and\npersevering, and under their cheerful toil the wilderness was reduced to\nfruitful fields. The temporary log houses and stables soon gave place to\ncomfortable buildings; and the \"clearings\" met as the woods disappeared\nbefore the ax.\n\nThe log chapel dwelling, sacred though it was as God's house and heaven's\ngate, was one of the first to disappear. A goodly frame house was just\ncovered and its floors laid, but no partitions set up, when it was\ngloriously consecrated by a most powerful quarterly meeting.\n\nThis was in the summer of 1823. Rev. Goodwin Stoddard was the presiding\nelder, a mighty man when fully aroused. Sunday evening he preached in the\nnew house during a fearful thunderstorm, and seemed girded like Elijah\nrunning before the chariot of the king. While Jehovah spake in the clouds,\nand for a long time the heavens seemed to be \"a sheet of flame.\" He also\nspake by his servant, and the response from the people was in tears and\nsobs, groans and shouts; and at the conclusion of nearly every sweep of the\npreacher's wonderful flights could be heard above the whole a shrill shout\nfrom the hostess, followed by a tornado of amens! When the sermon closed\nthe storm ceased, and the \"slain of the Lord were many.\" Memorable night!\nThe people found neither slumber nor weariness, and when the morning dawned\nvery few had not found a brighter dawn.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n\nTHE QUARTERLY MEETINGS.\n\nThese meetings, held in the summer season upon these premises for near a\ndozen years, were greatly enjoyed by Elizabeth and the family. The circuit\nwas large, and most of its two or three dozen appointments would be\nrepresented at what they called the \"quarterly visitation.\" For two or\nthree hours before noon on Saturday the people were pouring in from all\nparts of the circuit, and some from adjoining circuits. Besides what would\nconsent to sit down to dinner, \"lunch\" was freely distributed, which very\nfew refused after a long ride or walk. This lunch business was very handy,\nand not unpopular. No plates were used; the people in house or yard took in\ntheir hands the cold meats, biscuit, cheese, and doughnuts, while pans of\nmilk and pails of water, provided with tin cups, were set conveniently.\nAfter the Saturday sermon the preacher in charge distributed the guests\namong the hospitable homes of the society. But as the Quarterly Conference\nwas yet to be held the local preachers, exhorters, stewards, and class\nleaders, and usually their families, either stayed there or, perhaps, a few\nof them, at the nearest neighbors'.\n\nHowever scattered during Saturday night and Sunday night, they had a\nrallying time at the place of meeting before starting for home Monday,\nwhen, by more or less delay, time wore on, and the \"lunch\" came around\nagain. Fifty to a hundred meals, and two or more general lunches, were not\nremarkable at the cottage chapel; while for lodging, divided bedding and\nshawls scantily covered upon beds, benches, and floors, the women and\nchildren in the house, and a little new hay divided among the men and boys\nin the barn, made their rest somewhat tolerable.\n\nAt this distance of time and custom one would be sure that the hostess,\nafter such a siege, would be worn down, nervous, and melancholy; but those\nwho understood her best could have borne witness to a change of spirits, if\nany, in the opposite direction. As early as Monday on ordinary occasions,\nand Tuesday after the great quarterly visitation, the brick oven was sure\nto turn out its usual supplies for the family.\n\nNor could the holding out of strength and spirits be credited principally\nto a good constitution; but while much was due to the pious joy with which\nshe did all, more, perhaps, is to be laid to what her Yankee friends called\n\"faculty.\" Solomon's temple was not more accurately prepared than this\nhousewife's arrangements for receiving and caring for her meeting guests.\nNor was she less skillful in selecting and directing such youngerly women\nfrom among the guests as she needed for helpers and waiters. Her stock of\naprons was marvelous, and the dispatch with which she equipped her corps\nand clothed their ruddy countenances in smiles was only equaled by the\nspeed with which everything was finished in time for meeting call, and her\n\"girls\" and herself in their places in good time. And whatever woman in\nthe meeting did not do her part of the praying, speaking, singing, and, on\noccasion, shouting too, that woman was not Elizabeth Arnold.\n\nWhen Zion's hospitable entertainers shall be acknowledged before assembled\nworlds, and all their liberality and painstaking in the spirit of their\nMaster, who fed the multitude, shall be mentioned to his glory and their\ncredit through his grace, will not the humble name of Elizabeth Arnold be\nspoken with the honorable mention of that host of noble, patient toilers\nwho fed the people, that they might thus detain them under the influence of\nHim who stood waiting to feed them with the bread of eternal life?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n\nEXTENDS HER LABORS.\n\nAfter about a dozen and a quarter years the Arnold place lost the meetings\nboth of the circuit and of the society.\n\nThe changes of business and travel left the place quite one side, and\nthe meetings had been gradually removed to more central and convenient\nlocations. Mr. Arnold had been called by the church to hold meetings as an\nexhorter, and had sought out some destitute neighborhoods as his chosen\nfield. It was natural and appropriate for his wife to accompany him.\n\nThey were both good singers, and had sung together a third of a century.\nThey were ready speakers and mighty in prayer, and in the quiet way of lay\nworkers they went from house to house, and to a family in a place they\npresented the great salvation in conversation and psalm, and commended the\npeople to God in prayer.\n\nIt was not long before they collected in congregations; and while the\n\"licensed\" exhorter, who really \"preached many things to the people in his\nexhortations,\" always led the meetings, the real exhorter followed with\ncutting appeals. This destitute region was thus visited occasionally for\nseveral years, and this couple had the honor of being its successful\npioneers in Christian evangelism. In a central position has long stood a\nMethodist Episcopal church, and members of its society, fifty years after\nthese humble labors, acknowledged them in the hearing of the writer as the\nmeans of their salvation.\n\nElizabeth was now between fifty and sixty years of age, was no longer the\nnimble rider, but somewhat heavy and clumsy; she preferred the carriage\nseat to the saddle, but still in her numerous visits to the sick and such\nas she could bless by religious calls she continued her old method, as\nbeing more independent. Many wondered at the ease and skill with which a\nwoman of her age and size would spring on and off and manage her horse.\nShe would modestly reply, \"My dear father taught me how, and I have always\nliked it.\"\n\nShe early became a skillful nurse, and was for many years a diligent\nvisitor of the sick, especially among the poor and the ignorant. Her saddle\nhorns were hung with budgets of medicinal herbs and little comforts, and\nshe would find out the sick and suffering, and administer both to their\nphysical and spiritual wants, and return to her household duties almost\nbefore her family knew she had been gone.\n\nAbout this time a new field of labor was providentially opened to this\nChristian worker. The Presbyterian and Baptist churches in that town began\nto employ \"evangelists\" to hold \"revival meetings\" of a new order; but when\nthe people appeared to be thoughtful, and they got them into the \"anxious\nmeetings,\" they found it almost impossible to get them to praying or\nthe church to praying for them directly and earnestly, especially the\nsisterhood of the Presbyterian church; so the deacons and elders, in their\nstrait, begged Mrs. Arnold to \"come over into Macedonia and help.\" Much as\nshe had suffered in her early religious life from predestinarianism, she\nnever was a bigot, and so she, like Paul, \"gathered assuredly\" that the\ncall was of the Lord, and \"without gainsaying\" went and helped them\npublicly and from house to house as best she could. The result was that\nduring the balance of her active life she was urged into and did much of\nthis inter-church work in their periodical revivals, and obviously with\ngood effect.\n\nBut, grateful as were these churches for such help, and encouraging to\nher heart as the fruit appeared, she ever labored in these Calvinistic\nassociations under more or less embarrassment. To be at once true to her\nprinciples and true to interdenominational courtesy left her rather a\nnarrow platform to work upon; but, limited as it was, she would not\ntranscend it in either direction. When, however, she could find revival\nwork within reach among her own people she ever gave such calls the\npreference; and from their arrival in the new country down to the\nretirement of infirm old age, more than a quarter of a century, \"Sister\nArnold\" was known for many miles around as \"an excellent revival laborer.\"\n\nSeveral allusions have been made in this narrative to her shouting; but\nit should be understood that she was not in the habit of \"shouting before\ngetting out of the swamp.\" The order of her work was solemn, steady,\nearnest, and in mighty faith; but when the struggle was over, the victory\ngained, sometimes that solemn countenance would become suddenly luminous\nand her shrill shouts would pierce the very heavens. These loud\nexultations, however, were indulged in in no meetings but those of her own\npeople, and grew less frequent as age crept on, giving place to tears of\njoy and whispers of praise.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n\nAS A CAMP MEETING WORKER.\n\nWhen health and distance would permit, Mrs. Elizabeth could be depended\nupon as a tent holder and laborer at every camp meeting. She had a superior\ntent, and it was in its place and order from the first to the last hour.\n\nIt was a little odd that Mr. Arnold had very little camp meeting zeal, when\nhis wife had so much. He would go when entirely convenient, enjoy a few\nsermons and some pleasant conversations with friends, when he \"must go\nhome, see to things, and regain the rest he had lost.\" \"Mother and the\nchildren were sufficient to see to the tent, and enjoyed such mode of life\nbetter than he did.\"\n\nWith her the camp meeting was neither a place of recreation nor weariness.\nIts single object was to save souls. True to this purpose, she forecast for\nweeks to obtain as tent guests thoughtful persons of honorable character\nwhom she could bring and hold under the influence of the meeting until they\nwere converted.\n\nFor one meeting a Presbyterian deacon, who lived in a neglected\nneighborhood, was induced to bring his children and near a dozen more, all\nyoung people nearly or quite grown, and stay through the meeting. Of course\nthese guests would help stock the tent, and would feel bound in courtesy to\nattend the meetings of the tent as well as preaching at the stand, and the\ngood deacon have to do his share in conducting these tent meetings. When\nthe deacon returned home he carried with him a beautiful flock of the\nSaviour's lambs; and while the most of his own children joined his church,\nseveral miles away, the rest of these lambs were gathered into a Methodist\nfold at their own schoolhouse, the nucleus of a church which now has a good\nchurch edifice and has long had a prosperous existence. It is worthy of\nremark that to this day this church is next neighbor to the one founded\nsoon after upon the work of the exhorters before alluded to.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n\n\"THE CHAMBER ON THE WALL.\"\n\nThe active part of the married life of Joshua and Elizabeth Arnold was\nover forty years. During that period their house--as may be inferred from\npreceding pages--was the ever welcome home for the itinerant preacher.\nThe presiding elder and the preacher in charge often met there to counsel\ntogether. The junior preacher, who was usually a single man, made it one\nof his homes, where he came to rest and study. The \"best room,\" with its\nfireplace, bed, table, etc., was occupied more by the preachers than by\nall other company, and was known as \"the preachers' room.\" Both circuit\npreachers frequently passed a night there together in their rounds; but the\nsenior, having a home somewhere, would speak of this as the junior's\nhome, and of himself as \"his guest,\" as well as the guest of the family.\nSometimes all three of the itinerants would meet there for days at a time.\nSuch were seasons of great joy all around, and of some little pleasantry,\nalthough cautiously indulged in in those days.\n\nOn one such occasion, as the three preachers and the family were sitting\naround the large fireplace on a winter evening, and conversation had\nabout quieted to a lull, one of the elders hunched the junior, and with a\nsignificant wink suggested to him to ask counsel of Sister Arnold, who was\nbusy sewing by the candle-stand. Now the said junior was a very promising\nboy of nineteen, but, withal, a little too boyish to quite suit the ideal\nof this grave woman. So while he stated the question she listened with her\nattention mostly upon her work. \"Mother Arnold, I have, as our Discipline\nrequires, counseled with these my seniors upon a very important question.\"\nShe glances at him very slightly. \"It is the question of marriage.\" Another\nglance, which is enough to wilt a boy of ordinary courage, and instantly\nher eye is on her work again. He rallies, however, and begins again: \"I am\nadvised by several to marry, and am thinking seriously of doing so. I now\ndesire your advice.\" Slowly her spectacles mount to her forehead, her keen\nblack eye seems to look right through him, and she slowly and gravely\nreplies, \"Well, my advice is, that you wait until you get to be a man.\" The\neffect of such a shot may be better imagined than told; not only there,\nbut elsewhere, as long as he stayed on that circuit. He did wait, and in\nwaiting made a more judicious choice, and one of the sons of that wise\nmarriage is now one of our bishops.\n\nSevere as this sounds, it was a word in season, and fully met the approval\nof the senior brethren, and of the junior himself, who greatly venerated\nher, and ran a very successful, although short, race, and left an excellent\ninfluence behind him.\n\nEternity alone will fully declare how valuable were the counsels of this\n\"Aquila and Priscilla,\" who in this itinerant's home took many a young\n\"Apollos\" and \"expounded unto him the way of the Lord more perfectly.\"\n\nBut while nothing Mr. and Mrs. Arnold did for the meetings at their home or\nanywhere excused them from personal activity in those meetings, no pains\nor expense in entertaining the preachers were ever a substitute for the\nregular support of the Gospel by prompt and liberal payment through the\nstewards.\n\nBut beyond the regular \"quarterage\" they appreciated the need of\n\"presents.\" And probably, in the forty-two years of their active business\nlife together, seldom, if ever, did a Gospel minister make a pastoral visit\nat their home and go away without carrying with him some little token of\nthe veneration and love there cherished for his holy office and work, or\nof remembrance of his lone family, so much of the time deprived of his\npresence, and of many delicacies which he had among his people far away.\nThe \"fatted calf,\" lamb, or fowl would in many places be dressed for his\nfeasting, while the family at home, in some inferior quarters, were having\nrather dry fare, if not scanty fare; the thought of which would often mar\nthe pleasure of his most sumptuous entertainments.\n\nEconomical, not to say penurious, stewards demanded an \"account of\neverything given to the preachers;\" but Mrs. Arnold insisted that besides\nsalary matters presents were needed, and it was the privilege of that house\nto give them at pleasure, and the left hand must not know what the right\nhand conferred. Often the minister himself knew nothing of it until some\none of his family searched the box of his carriage seat, which they were\nnot slow to do when it came from certain parts of the circuit--some article\nof provision for the table, common and plenty enough in the cellar or dairy\nof the farm, but not certain to be flush in the parsonage; some tidbit or\ncondiment to humor a delicate appetite; some choice fruits or knickknacks\nfor the children; some material from the sheep or flax of the farm spun by\nher own diligent fingers to be made up in the lonely parsonage for the wife\nor children, or underwear for the man of God. When the minister's family\nwas within reach of this very busy mother in Israel she would often relieve\nthe loneliness, and sometimes the wants, experienced in his \"long rounds\"\nby her visits to the sacred rooms, which in those early years of Methodism\nwere oftener parts of some kind member's home than a regular \"parsonage\"\nor \"rectory.\" So when the weary itinerant would return and find that his\nfamily had not been entirely neglected in his absence he would take new\ncourage to pursue his toilsome way.\n\nAs already intimated, Mrs. Arnold usually made the \"junior preacher\" of the\ncircuit an object of motherly care. He was generally a single man in those\nearly days, and often scarcely out of his boyhood. Many a worn garment was\noverhauled and repaired; many a pair of new warm socks or mittens was laid\nwith new underwear upon his pillow.\n\nAlthough for several weeks of the year he and his horse had made the Arnold\nplace a pilgrim's rest, never was a dollar paid the place for board, nor\nwas the circuit permitted to charge him a farthing upon his salary for that\nor the presents he had received in that welcome home.\n\nThe junior preacher seldom served the same circuit more than one year of\nhis apprenticeship. When he left this, his favorite home of rest, of study,\nand of repairs, the parting scene brought tears from all eyes; and long did\nthe echo of those loving adieus ring in all ears, especially as uttered by\nthat matronly voice, \"Do well, and farewell. God bless you!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n\nMRS. ELIZABETH ARNOLD AS A MOTHER.\n\nEight children were given to this pious couple--five sons and three\ndaughters. Two of the daughters were recalled between the ages of two and\nfour. Lovely and much loved, they were still resigned to Him who demanded\ntheir return, and that, too, without a murmur.\n\nThe remaining daughter and all the five sons were converted in the morning\nof life and joined the Church so dear to the parents, and the two younger\nsons became ministers of the same, and all the six lived to advanced age.\nThe writer once overheard Mrs. Arnold answer the anxious inquiries of a\nyoung mother who had several little ones she was yearning to see early\nsaved: \"O, sister, it is all of the Lord. But it is true that He has\nwonderfully blessed our family altar, the visits of our dear ministers, and\nthe meetings in our house for many years. And as you are a mother, and seem\nanxious to learn a mother's duty and privilege, I will frankly give you my\nexperience. I did not play much with, our children, nor caress them much. I\nhadn't time, and I didn't wish them to be babies too long nor waste much of\ntheir precious morning of life in play. I did not flatter nor praise them\nvery much. I was afraid of fostering pride. But I have instructed them in\nour glorious doctrines with diligence and all the skill I could command.\nBut their early salvation and lifelong piety and usefulness seemed to be\nlaid on my heart by divine power, and the spirit of prayer for them was one\nof the abiding influences of the Holy Ghost. God had plainly answered my\nprayers for my brothers and sisters till they were all converted, and would\nnot my heavenly Father answer my prayer for my own offspring? O, sister, it\nwas no task for me to pray for my children. My life was in it.\n\n\"When I fed them I prayed the Lord to give them the bread and the water of\neternal life. When I took off their garments I asked the Lord to strip them\nof sin; and as I clothed them, that He would clothe them with the garments\nof salvation. When I laid them down to sleep I prayed that they might be\nfully prepared for the bed of death, and to sleep at last in Christian\ngraves. And when I took them up from their slumbers, how earnestly I prayed\nthat they might have part in the resurrection of the just! And, my dear\nyoung sister, I was not content with prayers for my children, nor with our\nfamily prayers with them; but as they grew old enough I took each one to my\nown little prayer room with me, and poured out my soul for that one. And\nI seldom retired to my pillow until I had \"tucked up\" my sleeping little\nones, given them a word of counsel, and offered a prayer for them; and\nI had no trouble in getting their wakeful attention. I assure you, dear\nsister, that a Christian mother's advantage just here is very great. Don't\nlet any hurry or weariness rob you of that hold upon the hearts of your\nchildren.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n\nDOUBLE DILIGENCE.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Arnold was a very busy woman. During the forty-two years of\nher mature active life she could almost be said to have accomplished double\nwork. Both her conscience and her nature seemed to be all alive to the\nrules of our Discipline: \"Never be unemployed;\" \"Never be triflingly\nemployed.\" Her large size, large brain, and preponderance of bilious\ntemperament seemed to call for much sleep and moderate motion. But her\nmotions were quick and efficient, and her sleep could not have averaged\nover six hours in twenty-four. But eighteen hours a day could not satisfy\nher longing for \"the improvement of her precious time.\" So she managed,\nwhen alone or not engaged in reading or conversation, to keep up what at\na little distance might be taken for mere humming, but what was really\nintelligent singing, simultaneous with the most active work of her hands.\nIt might begin with a hymn, but would glide on beyond into her own words of\npraise or prayer in impromptu music. This free, original singing was the\nsettled habit of her most driving business hours, and was not annoying to\nothers. But how those black eyes would sparkle and those florid cheeks glow\nwith heavenly light as her whole soul seemed absorbed in this spontaneous\nsinging, while the work of her hands went briskly on, leaving in speed or\nfinish no mark of absence of mind or false motion.\n\nBut this was not her only method of doubling her diligence. Her experience\nand wisdom brought her many inquirers after the truth, and demands upon her\nconversational powers were many and imperative. Yet those busy, provident\nhands, long acquainted with needles, seemed to make them fly and click in\nabout even race, with the mind and the tongue, \"Diligence in business,\"\n\"singing with grace in the heart,\" and \"conversation seasoned with grace\"\nmingled in her methods of \"redeeming the time.\"\n\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\n_RETIREMENT_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\nHOMES OF EARLY METHODISTS.\n\nFrom the earthly point of observation how sad is the breaking up of\nChristian homes! The genuinely hospitable homes of the early Methodists\nwere peculiar. There were elements in their hospitality which do not quite\nfind their equal in our day. The old circuit system set everything in\nmotion. Not only were the \"circuit riders\" circulating everywhere, but\nquarterly meetings, \"two days' meetings,\" and even regular circuit\npreaching, whether on a week day or Sunday, stirred up the people. And\nas they were scattered in residence, and traveling was slow, every\ncomfortable, hospitable Methodist residence became not only a free stopping\nplace, but a house of entertainment, where both soul and body found\nrefreshment, and the one just as free and cordial as the other. The guest\ndid not embarrass the host or hostess, for nothing but plain fare was\nexpected; and as to spiritual refreshment, he left a blessing behind him,\nand with rekindled joy went on his way rejoicing. So also it was when his\nturn came to entertain.\n\nThe homes of the early Methodists, especially in the country and in the\nrural villages, were much more permanent than in this day--not rented,\nbut mostly owned by their occupants--and every year seemed to add to the\nsacredness of these hospitable old abodes. The trees, the watering\ntrough, the well sweep, the plain old buildings, the very ground, seemed\nconsecrated to God and his cause.\n\nBut the kind host and hostess \"have finished their course\" and been called\nup higher. The honored old place is honorable no longer. The tenants or new\nowners, or, worse still, ungodly children, have desecrated everything. The\nold-time guests pass it with a sigh. The hill, the brook are there, but the\naged horse looks in vain for the welcome open gate and watering place, and,\ndrooping his head, walks slowly by in sadness. Ministers and church people\ntread that yard no more. The very ground seems backslidden. Sabbaths have\nfled. Prayers and praises are no longer echoed. That light is put out, and\n\"how great is that darkness!\"\n\nThe time came for Joshua and Elizabeth to yield to infirmity, and retire\nfrom active life. The hard work of the new country told seriously upon even\nstrong constitutions. Some of the members of their society older, and some\neven younger, than themselves had yielded and gone.\n\nFor long, happy years they had kept up an establishment of an unusually\nhospitable order for even a cordial church and a free, social age. They had\nbeen more able, more willing, more zealous, and had more \"faculty\" for it.\nBut old age came on then earlier than now. The \"threescore years\" of which\nthey had so long sung had already gone by. Their younger sons were away\nin the itinerant ministry. The old farm was too broad for their age and\ninfirmities, and they found the order given to Daniel, \"Go thou thy way:\n... for thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of the days\" (Dan.\nxii, 13), appropriate to their condition, and allowed an elder son to\nremove them to town, under his care, and near church. In this retirement\nthey enjoyed choice church privileges. Several of their old-time friends\nhad collected in and near the place, among whom were a few of their old\nMassachusetts classmates and, above all, the aged and excellent local\npreacher[1] who was praying for Miss Elizabeth Ward in Pittsfield when she\nwas converted, and who had for so many years lived near the family and had\npreached in their house nearly or quite as much as all other ministers. He\nand his venerable companion had retired there, too, with one of their sons.\n\n[Footnote 1: Rev. Thomas Hubbard.]\n\nBut besides these retired neighbors, their retreat being but five miles\nfrom their old farm and whilom cottage chapel, several of the village\nresidents had long been camp meeting and quarterly meeting associates.\nSo, with a dutiful son and near-by church, this superannuated couple,\nsurrounded by congenial society, surrendered their beloved public life and\nsought an evening of rest, in which to ripen for heaven.\n\nHardly could aged people be happier or more quiet and free from worldly\ncare. The storms of life were past; the crowd of business, the rush of\nlabor, the study of complicated lines of duty--all these have gone by like\na storm, and left a great calm. Still they find some little to do with what\nlittle strength they can command and the limited income left them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nJOSHUA ARNOLD.\n\nNo life experience of Elizabeth would seem at all complete without a\nchapter giving a somewhat connected view of her _companion_, near a half\ncentury by her side, in her toils, liberality, and church work. Did she,\nwhen driven by persecution from her father's house, take up, under stress\nof calamity, an inferior associate for life? Let us see. If, as many claim,\nthe wisest matches are founded on contrast, this must have been _par\nexcellence_. For if we except their large size and mutual endowment\nof sound common sense, there was very little natural similarity. In\nConnecticut the farms of the Arnolds and the Wards joined, and yet they\nwere not intimate as families, for there was, for that day, too great\ndisparity in property and style. Both were moral and intelligent, but the\nlarge Arnold family on the hill, though in comfortable circumstances, did\nnot train in the same \"set\" with the elegant establishment at the Cove.\n\nOf the numerous family (of almost giant size) of Ebenezer and Anna Miller\nArnold there were only two sons. Ebenezer, among the eldest, had the\nancestral name, took to a mariner's life, was a few years a sea captain,\nand lies at the bottom of the ocean. Joshua was the youngest of the family,\nthe almost idol of his parents, and of a house full of lusty sisters, who\nvied with one another which should teach him most and secure most of\nhis confidence. So he lived on until nearly thirty a bachelor. Such\nopportunities as were afforded the common farmers' boys of New England in\nthe eighteenth century young Joshua diligently improved, and became a close\nstudent, and well qualified as a teacher of common schools of his day. His\nspecialties were mathematics, penmanship, bookkeeping, business science\nand forms, and navigation. And he continued to do more or less in this\nprofession until fifty years of age. He was converted among the first\nfruits of Methodist labors in that part of New England.\n\nThen, every Methodist studied closely into her doctrines, and this young\nman became qualified to state clearly, and ably defend, all that was\npeculiar to that Church. The cast of his mind was logical, candid,\npatient--he was never inclined to hasty conclusions. He loved to dig\ndeep, collect strong evidence, and wait till conclusions were sound and\ninevitable.\n\nHis brethren soon marked him for the ministry, and so advised; but, with\nhis great modesty and high opinions of a divine call, he was not then, and\nnever was, satisfied that he had such an essential individual commission.\nWithout a full consciousness of duty in the line of that awful\nresponsibility, this pious young man refused to look in that direction. He,\nhowever, cherished a high sense of the honor involved in the confidence\nof the Church, and felt impelled to lay himself out to do his best as a\nprivate member.\n\nUnder the ministry of such able Methodist preachers as Asbury, Jesse\nLee, and George Roberts, young Joshua had imbibed the main doctrines of\ntheology, and set out in earnest to \"search the Scriptures,\" both \"for\ncorrection\" if wrong, and for confirmation in the truth he had received and\nexperienced. Thus fairly started on the King's highway of truth, he became\nprofoundly interested in Bible study; and continued both the study and the\nintense love of it through life. He dug in this mine more than a third of a\ncentury without any human commentary, and found, to his great joy, that\nthe poet had struck it: \"God is his own interpreter, and He will make it\nplain.\" So diligently did he search for the \"interpretation of Scripture by\nScripture,\" that he largely learned the doctrinal Scriptures by heart,\nand also book, chapter, and verse; and to family and friends he was \"both\nconcordance and commentary.\"\n\nNear the middle of his experience and biblical research Mr. Arnold was\nurged, almost driven, to take license to exhort, and more publicly divulge\nsome of the treasures of his years of study. He had thus \"improved in\npublic\" (as exhorting was then called) but a year or two when his brethren,\nfinding more of the expository than hortatory in his discourses, urged that\nhis proper office was that of a local preacher. But to this he had two\nobjections: lack of a distinct call, and a settled fear that the Church was\ngrowing too numerous a secular ministry; so he utterly refused.\n\nFor the balance of his active life, as health and opportunity permitted, he\n\"preached many things to the people in his exhortations,\" always laying\nfor them a solid doctrinal foundation, and plentifully using Scripture\nlanguage, both accurately quoted and wisely applied, and book and chapter\nusually given. His appointments for exhortation never lacked attendants or\ninterest; and when called, as he often was, to \"supply the appointment\" of\na circuit preacher, the substitute was not met with wry faces nor spoken of\nin frowns. Yet his highest apparent successes in speaking, if estimated by\nthe excitement, were his brief speeches in love feast, not boisterous, but\ninvariably stirring the deep of the heart of the meeting.\n\nJoshua Arnold's singing was no way superior in kind and had no marked\ndefect, unless it was that time sometimes yielded to sentiment. But the\namount of psalm singing done in a half century by this peaceful man was\ncertainly marvelous. The leading of most of the hymns in the social\nmeetings was a very small proportion of it. Whenever he found a psalm,\na hymn, or a chorus that struck a chord in his devout heart he laid it\ncarefully away in his retentive memory, and it was instantly called up when\nhe wanted to sing it.\n\nBut what was most noteworthy in his singing was that his happy heart, and\nsoft, sweet voice, and abundant store of pious psalmody kept him singing\nwherever and whenever he could with propriety.\n\nMr. Arnold was the opposite of a business sharper. He was a moderate,\npatient toiler, but traded no more than he was obliged to, and always with\nfrank, honest words, and very few words. He hated extortion, avoided debt,\nand threw nothing away in interest or in lawsuits, and was both careful and\nskillful in maintaining a good influence. Like his wife, he was economical\nand liberal; and the Christian liberality of their home knew no bounds but\nthe limit of their means; nor was that limit dreaded, nor often, if ever,\nfound, when it embarrassed the case on hand.\n\nAs Joshua Arnold was no ordinary man, so his _personnel_ was rather\npeculiar: nearly six feet in height; large, but not fat; wore a shoe of\nsize number twelve, and hat size seven and a half. His eye was blue, large,\nand mild; forehead broad and high; nose long and straight; lips long and\nthin; mouth and chin small and delicate; hair brown, fine, straight, and\ncomplexion florid. His motions were moderate, and temper very steady and\nmild.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nSEPARATION.\n\nBut this aged couple were to share their joys and sorrows in their\nretirement but a few years. Joshua was the first called away. He died in\nhis seventy-seventh year, in peace with God and all men. Just before\nhis speech failed one of his sons inquired how long he had been in the\nMethodist Episcopal Church. His answer came slowly but firmly: \"Fifty-two\nyears ago I said to this people, 'Whither thou goest, I will go; and where\nthou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my\nGod: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.'\n\n  'The word hath passed my lips, and I\n  Shall with thy people live and die.'\"\n\nAnd the good man had the desire of his heart.\n\nElizabeth was now a widow, and had nearly reached her \"threescore and ten\nyears.\" She was not much bent with age, though \"compassed with infirmity.\"\nShe still found some little to do among the sick, the poor, and the\nperishing, and was not gloomy or desponding in her loneliness. She wrote\nmuch to her scattered children, who were too distant to be seen often, and\nher letters breathed the spirit of heaven.\n\nWhen possible to attend the preaching of the word she was \"not a forgetful\nhearer,\" but kept up her old method of prayerful abstraction. She had\nduring her whole religious life followed it. She would early enter the\nmeeting as if she saw no one and go solemnly to her seat, and either kneel\nor cover her face for a time, and thence on until the voice of the opening\nservice aroused her would be absorbed in devotion. As long as able to\nattend, her voice was heard in prayer and class meetings; and many came to\nher room for counsel and help in their experience.\n\nIt was marvelous to see what a change retirement and its quiet had wrought\nin the spirit and manner of this woman. The drive and hum of busy life were\nover; a heavenly calm had ensued--solemn, serene, peaceful--no agony of\nprayer, no ecstasy of spirit, no shouts of transport, no fiery trials. Her\ninfirmities accumulate, but still she rejoices in sacred, hallowed peace.\nShe becomes a cripple, almost confined to her bed, and continues so for\nyears; but her mind retains its strength and serenity, and her whole heart\nrejoices in God, her immovable Rock.\n\nThe last decade or more of her life was marked as a continual feast upon\nthe holy word of God. She learned what her blessed Saviour meant when he\nquoted and sanctioned that Scripture, \"Man shall not live by bread alone,\nbut by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God,\" and also, his\npromise that the Holy Comforter should quote to the faithful such passages\nof the word they had studied as their circumstances might require.\n\nSo every day, and usually oftener, the Lord would give her a \"passage to\nfeed upon,\" \"day by day her daily bread.\" On the last day that she could\nspeak her pastor's wife inquired after her \"passage for that day,\" and she\ninstantly quoted Josh. i. 5, and Heb. xiii, 5, \"I will never leave thee,\nnor forsake thee.\"\n\nJust before her speech failed her she called to her a daughter-in-law and\ngave her a minute account of her graveclothes, which had been ready for\nseveral years, and she found everything as she had described them. Thus, as\n\"a shock of corn fully ripe,\" she was at length gathered home. She died in\nFulton, Oswego County, N. Y., in August, 1865, in the eighty-eighth year\nof her age, and in the seventieth year of her religious experience, and\nis buried by the side of her husband in Mount Adna Cemetery, where they\ntogether await the resurrection of the just.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nCONCLUSION.\n\nThe \"disinherited\" Elizabeth was never restored to her rights and heirship\nas a daughter. As old age came upon that rigid father he partially relented\nand doled out a few hundreds to her where his other children had their\nthousands.\n\nHe even sent to Massachusetts for her to visit him on his deathbed and\ncounsel him concerning salvation, and pray with him; and he indulged some\nhope under her prayers; but he made no confession of his wrongs to her, nor\namends for his injustice.\n\nHer two brothers and three sisters all credited their religious experience\nto God's blessing upon Elizabeth's prayers, counsels, and life; but only\none of them ever undertook to restore what the father had taken from\nElizabeth's right and given to her, and she did not do it until she was\nabout to die without issue. With one voice they freely condemned her\ndisinheritance and the persecutions she had had to suffer. But when, their\nsouls being \"ill at ease\" under the remembrance of her wrongs, they spoke\nto her on the subject (for she would not introduce it), they would simply\nrepeat, \"Father so willed it, and you know, dear sister, that no one could\never turn him.\"\n\nAll became church members, and so lived and died, but all in Calvinian\ncommunions; while all of Elizabeth's children became Methodists, and two of\nher sons, as we have seen, itinerant ministers. She and her pious husband,\nas before stated, were industrious, economical, and liberal, and Agar's\nprayer, \"Give me neither poverty nor riches,\" was their prayer, and with\nits answer they walked happily and usefully through life, \"serving their\ngeneration by the will of God,\" and passing in peace to their reward.\n\nTHE END.","title":"Elizabeth: the Disinherited Daughter: By E. Ben Ez-er","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":16747}