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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/lifeofwilliamcap00wigh_1 
 
LIFE 
 
 WILLIAM CAPERS, D.D., 
 
 ONE OF THE BISHOPS OP 
 
 THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHUECH, SOUTH ; 
 
 INCLUDING AN 
 
 "WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN, D.D., 
 
 PRESIDENT OP WOFFORD COLLEGE, 
 
 Nasfjbtlle, Kmn.: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY J. B. M'FERRIN, AGENT. 
 
 SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE. 
 
 185 8. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
 WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN, 
 In the District Court of the United States for the Middle District of Tennessee. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY A. A. STITT, SOUTHERN METHODIST 
 PUBLISHING HOUSE, NASHVILLE, TENN. 
 
€ atthnts. 
 
 Preface , ix 
 
 Autobiography 11 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Value of autobiography — Mr. Capers appointed Superintendent of a 
 Mission to the Creek Indians — Stationed at Milledgeville, Ga.. 231 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Stationed in Charleston — Editor of the Wesleyan Journal — Appointed 
 Presiding Elder — Defence of Bishop Soule's Sermon — Elected Dele- 
 gate to the British Conference 248 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Embarks in the John Jay — Voyage — Reception in England — Estimate 
 of the leading Wesleyan preachers — Resolutions of the British 
 Conference — Visits Dr. Adam Clarke at Haydon Hall — Return 
 
 voyage 264 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Invitation to go to Baltimore — Missions to the blacks established — 
 Results of these Missions 288 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Elected to a Professorship in Franklin College, Ga. — His own humble 
 appreciation of his scholastic abilities — Severe illness — Castile Sel- 
 by — Stationed in Columbia — Correspondence with Dr. Cooper.. 303 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Miss Jane A. Faust — Miss Maxwell — An awakening sermon — Rhymes 
 — Dr. Capers removes to Charleston — General Conference of 1832 
 
 — Is offered the Presidency of LaGrange College 317 
 
 (iii) 
 
iv 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Hospitality — Rev. John Hutchinson — The little mail-carrier and 
 the overcoat — Outlay of benevolence speedily returned, and 
 doubled 332 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Troubles in the Church in Charleston — Transferred to the Georgia 
 Conference, and stationed at Savannah — Lewis Myers — Delivers a 
 eulogy on Lafayette 339 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Removal to Columbia — Accepts the Professorship of Moral and Intel- 
 lectual Philosophy in the South Carolina College — Reasons for an 
 early resignation — Denominational education 352 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Lays the corner-stone of the Cokesbury School — George Holloway — - 
 Visits Georgia — Stationed in Charleston — Congregational singing — 
 Appointed Editor of the Southern Christian Advocate — Great fire 
 in Charleston — Collections for rebuilding the churches — Centenary 
 of Methodism 362 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 General Conference of 1840 — Conversion of his son William — Ap- 
 pointed Missionary Secretary for the South — Preaches the funeral 
 sermon of Mrs. Andrew 371 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Removes from Oxford to Charleston — Makes the tour of the South- 
 western Conferences — Visits his aunt in Kentucky — Incidents of 
 travel — Maum Rachel 383 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 General Conference at New York — Debate on Finley's resolution — 
 Incipient measures for a division of the Church 398 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 v 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Elected and ordained Bishop — First tour of Episcopal visitations — 
 Travels through the border territory of the Virginia Confer- 
 ence 413 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Second tour of visitations — The far West — Travels through the 
 Indian Territory, Arkansas, and Texas 426 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Dr. Bascom visits South Carolina — His mind and manners — Meeting 
 of the Bishops and Commissioners of the Church suit called by 
 Bishop Soule — Bishop Capers's third and fourth tours of visita- 
 tions 439 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 General Conference at St. Louis — Fifth tour of visitations — Writes 
 his Autobiography — Illness at Augusta — Sixth tour — Correspond- 
 ence 451 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The Methodist itinerant system — Its suitableness to the expanding 
 population of the country — Statistics — Seventh tour of visita- 
 tions 469 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Eighth tour of visitations — Failing health — General Conference at 
 Columbus, Ga. — Last tour — Illness and death,... 482 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Personnel of Bishop Capers — Intellectual character — Conversational 
 powers — Religious experience — Style of preaching — Theology of 
 the John Wesley school — Administrative capacity — Family feelings 
 — Belief in a special Providence — Disinterestedness — Results of 
 his ministry 492 
 
The writer of the following memoir deems it 
 proper to state that shortly after the death of his 
 honored and lamented friend, the Rev. Bishop 
 Capers, an application was made to him by the 
 family of the deceased to undertake the prepara- 
 tion of a biography. This application, although it 
 furnished a touching proof of personal attachment 
 and regard, he was at the time constrained to de- 
 cline, under the conviction that the pressure of 
 engagements in a new and important field of labor 
 would not allow him the time and leisure demanded 
 by such an undertaking. The lapse of a couple of 
 years having supplied no biographer, he yielded to 
 a renewed application, and consented to make the 
 attempt. He was encouraged by the consideration 
 that his venerable friend had left a minute account 
 of the early years of his active and varied life, bring- 
 ing the narrative nearly to the point of time at 
 which the writer was favored to form a personal 
 1* (vii) 
 
viii 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 acquaintance with him, to enjoy his friendship, 
 and to possess many opportunities, in the in- 
 timacy of daily intercourse, to study the develop- 
 ments of his mind and character. His aim has 
 been to draw the portrait of his friend just as the 
 vivid recollections of thirty years presented him to 
 the mental vision ; aiming at simple exactness and 
 fidelity to truth in the picture. The lessons taught 
 by the life of this eminent, useful, and beloved 
 minister of Christ are of great value to the* Church, 
 and should not be lost or forgotten. May this 
 volume, which presents the memorabilia of that life, 
 be the means of perpetuating in the world not only 
 the impression of its excellences, but the living 
 spirit of grace in Christ J esus, which was the source 
 of all its sanctity and usefulness. 
 Wofford College, S. C. 
 
LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS, D.D. 
 
$t t all tttfou of Htpdf 
 
 IN MY PAST LIFE. 
 
 I was born January 26, 1790, at my father's 
 winter residence, (his plantation,) on Bull-Head 
 Swamp, in the Parish of St. Thomas, South Caro- 
 lina, some twenty miles from Charleston : a place 
 which at the present time might be accounted no 
 place ; though it was then valuable, and had served 
 to make my forefathers comfortable, and to keep them 
 so for several generations. Indeed, it could have 
 been no mean place at the time of my birth ; for 
 when, some four years afterwards, my father re- 
 moved to Georgetown District, it was with the pro- 
 ceeds of the sale of this Bull-Head plantation, as 
 I have heard him say, that he purchased a planta- 
 tion on the island just by Georgetown, than which 
 there are now no lands in the State more valuable. 
 It is fair to say, however, that the change was then 
 only beginning which transferred the culture of rice 
 from the inland swamps, with their reservoirs of 
 water, to the tide-lands ; where only, for the last 
 
 (11) 
 
12 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 half century, this grain has been produced for 
 market. 
 
 Our name, Capers, I suppose to be derived from 
 France, and the first of the name in South Caro- 
 lina were Huguenots. Of this, however, I am not 
 certain, nor is it of any consequence. Lremember 
 to have heard no more from my father about it than 
 that he had never seen the name in any English 
 catalogue of names. Those of the name in Beau- 
 fort District, South Carolina, who are descended 
 from the same original stock with us, say that the 
 name is French, and that our ancestor was of the 
 Huguenots ; and I dare say they are right. 
 
 My father's name was William ; and that of his 
 father and grandfather, Richard. Of my father's 
 father, I know little more than that he died in 
 middle life, leaving two sons, George Sinclair and 
 William, and no daughter. After his death, his 
 widow, my grandmother, having contracted an un- 
 happy marriage, my father's uncle, Major Gabriel 
 Capers, of Christ Church Parish, became his foster- 
 father, and did nobly for him. He had five (or 
 more) daughters, but no son, and my father became 
 his son in all possible respects. My great-grand- 
 father survived his son many years : a large healthy 
 fat man of peculiar manners ; dressing in osnaburgs 
 and plains, (a kind of coarse woollen,) at home, 
 and in broadcloth and silks, stiffened with excess 
 of gold lace and a powdered wig, when he went 
 abroad. A different kind of man was my father, 
 whose name I cannot mention without emotion, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 13 
 
 after thirty-eight years since I saw him buried. 
 I have studied his character with intense interest, 
 and honor his memory in every feature of it with 
 my whole soul. A chivalrous soldier of the Revo- 
 lution was he, whose ardent patriotism cooled not 
 to the last of life ; and yet, after a few years in the 
 Legislature following the establishment of peace, 
 he held no civil office whatever, and was seldom 
 seen on public occasions, except in his office as 
 Major of Brigade, to muster the troops. He was a 
 military man — the war of the Revolution had made 
 him so — and to muster a brigade seemed his high- 
 est recreation. But no one I ever knew was more 
 a man of peace than my father was. Social and 
 unselfish, generous, kind, and gentle, he loved not 
 war. I dare say his nature was impulsive, but it 
 was the opposite of passionate. Benevolence sup- 
 plied his strongest incentives, and the serving of 
 others seemed to be his favorite mode of serving 
 himself. I never knew him to be involved in a per- 
 sonal difficulty but once ; and then it was on ac- 
 count of a wrong done by an unreasonable neigh- 
 bor to one of his negroes. His education had been 
 interrupted by the Revolutionary war, and was 
 therefore imperfect ; but he had a clear and strong 
 understanding, was fond of Natural Philosophy 
 and Mechanics, wrote with ease and perspicuity, 
 and in conversation was eminently engaging. He 
 was born October 13, 1758; just at the right 
 time, he was fond to say, that he might have a full 
 share in the war of his country's independence. 
 
14 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 And yet, with the Butlers, of South Carolina, (sons 
 of a worthy sire who did his country good service,) 
 I have to complain that my father's name does not 
 appear in any history of the American Revolution. 
 There is, indeed, a small volume, by the late Chan- 
 cellor James, in which his name is mentioned, and 
 we are told of his giving several thousand dollars* 
 (I think it was) for a blanket, and several hundred 
 for a penknife ; and some passing compliment is 
 paid to his courage and devotion to the country; 
 and besides this I have seen nothing more. And 
 yet I am bound to claim for him that he fought with 
 the bravest and best, first as a lieutenant in the 
 second regiment, when General Moultrie was- 
 Colonel, Marion Lieutenant-Colonel, and Horry a 
 Captain ;, and afterwards, till the close of the war, 
 as one of General Marion's captains, and his inti- 
 mate friend. 
 
 He was one of the defenders of Charleston in 
 the battle of Fort Sullivan, (Fort Moultrie ;) was in 
 the battle of Eutaw ; was at the siege of Savannah, 
 where Pulaski fell, and not far from him at that fatal 
 moment; and was at the battle of Rugely's Mills, 
 which happened after his escape from imprison- 
 ment in Charleston, and before he had rejoined 
 Marion. Indeed, he was there in search of Marion, 
 whom he expected to find with General Gates, but 
 found not, as he had gone on an expedition to Fort 
 
 * Such was the depreciation of what was called " Continental 
 money." 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 16 
 
 Motte. At Stono, where the lamented Laurens 
 fell, lie was present and fought like himself; at the 
 siege of Charleston he was one of its defenders, 
 and one of those who accompanied Major Huger 
 on the service, which on their return proved fatal 
 to that gallant officer, by a false alarm, through the 
 inadvertence of a sentinel, whereby many lost their 
 lives by the fire of their own countrymen from 
 their own lines of defence; besides numerous 
 skirmishes which have never found a record in the 
 books, though they contributed no mean quota to 
 the defence of the country. 
 
 The silence of the books to the contrary notwith- 
 standing, I might adduce something like proof of 
 Marion's friendship for him, from a conversation 
 with Mrs. Marion herself, the General's widow, in 
 the winter of 1806-7, when in obedience to my 
 father's commands I called at her house, on my 
 way to Charleston, to make his respects and inquire 
 after her health. I might tell how the announce- 
 ment of my name to the servant in waiting brought 
 her venerable person to the door ; how eagerly she 
 asked if I was the son of her valued friend ; how 
 she seized my hand in both of hers with a hearty 
 shake, and " God bless your father !" and how late 
 it was that night before I was dismissed to bed 
 from tales of my father's chivalry and noble heart. 
 And many a time in the course of my earlier life 
 was I honored on my father's account ; and never 
 have I met with officer or soldier of .Marion's com- 
 mand who was not my friend for my father's sake. 
 
16 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 But with respect to his connection with the 
 second regiment, early in the war. If I mistake 
 not, there were two regiments (possibly more) 
 raised by the State of South Carolina at the be- 
 ginning of the war, for the general cause of the 
 Revolution, and not for service within the State 
 only ; and for this reason they were called Continen- 
 tal regiments. This one of them, as I have just 
 said, was commanded at first by Moultrie, with 
 Marion and Horry for Lieutenant- Colonel and 
 Major. And it was while these officers com- 
 manded, that my father, though not of age, held a 
 commission in it. In proof of this, besides having 
 heard it affirmed repeatedly by both my father and 
 uncle, I happen to have in my possession a note 
 from General Horry to my father in the year 1802, 
 which I deem conclusive. The occasion of the note 
 seems to have been some difference of opinion on 
 a point of tactics between my father, then Brigade 
 Major, and his General of Brigade, Conway, which 
 had been referred to General Horry; who, after 
 giving his opinion, concludes the note with these 
 express words : "If my memory do not fail me, I think 
 such was the usage, or custom, in the second regiment, to 
 which we both belonged in June of our Continental war" 
 Here, then, is explicit testimony from the best pos- 
 sible authority, as to the fact that he belonged to 
 the second regiment; in what capacity is not 
 stated, but it must have been as an officer, for it 
 would have beqn ridiculous in the General to make 
 such an allusion with respect to a private, and we 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 17 
 
 claim for him no higher r^nkir ';hat regiment than 
 that of Lieutenant. But t\ General's note serves 
 me for another point. It appears that he and my 
 father both belonged to the second regiment, " in 
 June of our Continental war." What June must that 
 have been ? The phraseology is peculiar, and can 
 make sense only on the supposition that there was 
 one June unmistakably distinguished from the 
 rest, for there were several Junes during "our Con- 
 tinental w^ar." It could have been no other than 
 June, 1776, distinguished above all others of the 
 Revolution, especially to officers of the second 
 regiment, by the battle of Fort Moultrie. There 
 was no June for the second regiment before that, 
 for it had not been organized and in service, and 
 that w T as its first great achievement. Nor could 
 there have been any June after it of which General 
 Horry might say that he and my father did then 
 belong to the second regiment ; for shortly after the 
 battle of Fort Moultrie, Marion becoming a parti- 
 san General, both Horry and my father left that 
 regiment and joined him — one as colonel and the 
 other as captain. 
 
 I have been thus particular because of that mor- 
 tifying silence of the books ; and because I have 
 even seen a printed list purporting to give the 
 names of all the persons who were engaged in the 
 battle of Fort Moultrie, from which my father's 
 name was omitted. This surprises me more than 
 any thing else, for as to the period of his service as 
 one of Marion's captains, the peculiar mode of war- 
 
18 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 fare adopted by the General made it extremely dif- 
 ficult to gather information of numerous important 
 actions, whilst his army was so often to be found 
 in detachments only, here and there, from the 
 Combahee to the Pee-Dee river. Indeed, I believe 
 that after the fall of Charleston there was a con- 
 siderable period of time in which it was seldom 
 embodied in any great force. And yet there was 
 always a galling impracticable foe, hard to be 
 found, and still harder to be got rid of, by British 
 or Tory. It was some one of Marion's captains, 
 trained and qualified by that great commander to 
 play the General on a smaller scale. Much of such 
 service fell to my father's share, and many a thrill- 
 ing incident of his scouting-parties have I heard 
 related by him, which I would like to give, but 
 that, at this distance of time, they are not distinct 
 enough in detail to my recollection to be narrated 
 with accuracy. They appear indistinctly, or, rather, 
 confusedly, so that I cannot be sure that I have all 
 the parts of any event in order, or that parts of one 
 do not belong to another. But I can state with 
 certainty the facts respecting his being once taken 
 prisoner by the Tories ; and of his escape from the 
 prison in Charleston not many weeks afterwards. 
 These are not the incidents I would choose to 
 select, if my memory served me as well for the 
 rest ; nevertheless, you may think them worth pre- 
 serving ; or, if not, blot them out. 
 
 My uncle and father were on furlough for a 
 short time, and had reached my uncle's residence, 
 
AUTOBIOOEAPHY. 
 
 19 
 
 while the Tories were in force in the neighbor- 
 hood. My uncle's wife was at the point of death, 
 and he would not leave her for the night, notwith- 
 standing the imminent danger of remaining in the 
 house with the Tories so near him. My father 
 would not leave his brother alone in so much 
 danger. They barricaded the house as well as 
 they could, and awaited the issue. As they had 
 feared, the Tories were upon them before it was 
 light — a full company surrounding the house. 
 Flight was impossible ; they must be taken ; and 
 they would make terms ; but how ? They affected 
 to be a company themselves, muttering a mimicry 
 of many voices, moving rapidly about, and by 
 every artifice in their power seeming to be a house- 
 full, and not two persons only. The stratagem suc- 
 ceeded, and the craven foe formally demanded a 
 surrender. They were not quick to answer the 
 demand, but kept up their bustling with all their 
 might. The demand to surrender was repeated; 
 and in answer to it they inquired how many of the 
 assailants there were. A parley ensued, and they 
 finally surrendered on condition that, on sacred 
 honor, the men should be treated as prisoners of 
 war, and the house should not be molested. This 
 being done with due formality, they marched out, 
 two men of them, to the extreme mortification of 
 the valiant Tory arid his command. They were 
 taken to Charleston, delivered to the Commandant, 
 Colonel Balfour, and put in prison. Their apart- 
 ment was in the third story of the jail, with some 
 
20 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 eight or ten other prisoners. It happened that 
 among the gentlemen of the city and surrounding 
 country, who had taken the protection offered by 
 the British after the fall of Charleston, (and of 
 which they afterwards had so much cause to com- 
 plain,) there was a Mr. Fogartie, an acquaintance 
 of my father and uncle, and of others of the pri- 
 soners, who visited them almost daily, and procured 
 them many comforts. And after some weeks of 
 their imprisonment had passed, this gentleman, who 
 was ever kindly interested for them, brought the 
 appalling tidings of its having been determined to 
 convey them away from the city to the West 
 Indies. He had overheard an order to the effect 
 that a vessel should be got ready for this purpose 
 forthwith, and should sail by the next fair wind. 
 Nothing could have been more abhorrent to them 
 than this information. Their very souls were sick 
 of the accounts they had heard of the prison-ships 
 in that quarter to which they were to be sent — 
 their crowded condition, want of food, excessive 
 heat, stench, and vermin, worse than death. "What 
 possible attempt might enable if but half of them 
 to escape at the sacrifice of the rest ? And it was 
 presently concluded that Mr. Fogartie should pro- 
 cure a boat and hands to be in readiness at the 
 market wharf that evening, and, if possible, arms 
 and ammunition for their use ; and that they would 
 seize the moment when the turnkey came at dusk 
 to see that all was well, to rush forth together, and, 
 seizing the arms of the sentry at their door, pre- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 21 
 
 cipitate themselves on the next and the next along 
 the stairs, killing or being killed, till they had 
 made their way to the street, and thence by flight 
 to the boat. Could half of them hope to survive 
 so desperate an attempt ? Perhaps not, but death 
 on the spot, rather than a West India prison-ship, 
 was their unanimous voice. 
 
 This being their determination, the faithful 
 Fogartie left them, to arrange for his part in the 
 plot — the procurement of arms and a boat at the 
 water-side. There were not many hours for reflec- 
 tion before the fearful point of time when liberation 
 or the bayonet had been fixed on ; and it is not 
 surprising that with the chances so terribly against 
 them, one and another, as the evening came on, 
 showed symptoms of a love of life. The first for 
 the plot were the first to abandon it. For several 
 hours the majority stood firm; but the minority 
 could not be reclaimed, but finally overcame the 
 majority, who concluded that the chances for escape 
 must be diminished by as much as their number 
 was reduced, and the plot had better be abandoned. 
 Not so with my father, whose resolution had been 
 taken too firmly to be reconsidered. His last hope 
 was in his brother ; who, though he would gladly 
 have been one with the rest in the, plot, deemed it 
 mad for two only to attempt to escape by such 
 means, and strove earnestly to dissuade him from 
 his avowed purpose of going by himself alone. if 
 no one would go with him. The remonstrances of 
 the rest he answered indifferently, or with a gibe, 
 
29 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 but his brother's importunities cost hini some 
 trouble ; till almost at the point of the time lie 
 turned sharply on him, and said, " Brother, I never 
 '\ thought myself a braver man than you. Xow I 
 know it. Make me not a coward." But the time 
 was come. The steps of the turnkey were heard at 
 the door* It was dusk, and was growing dark on 
 the stairs. If the turnkey could be deceived, might 
 not the desperate man escape ? They had in the 
 room a great bowl out of which they drank their 
 punch ; and there was a little punch at the bottom 
 of the bowl. This my uncle took, and placing 
 himself next to the door, was ready, the moment 
 it should be opened, to offer it to the willing turn- 
 key. It was done. The great bowl hid every 
 thing from him except the punch in the bottom of 
 it, and my father instantly was gone. I learned 
 from my uncle that it was not difficult to engage 
 the attention of the turnkey, who loved punch 
 dearly, long enough to afford my father ample time 
 for his escape. But that escape. AVhether in the 
 dusk the sentry at the head of the stairs took him 
 for a visitor, or for the turnkey himself, my father 
 knew not ; but they had no dream of his being a 
 prisoner making his escape, and so suffered him to 
 pass without molestation. Just passed them, and 
 having begun to descend the stairs, his foot slipped, 
 and he tumbled down the whole flight of steps to 
 the platform at their turning, where the next 
 sentry was posted. A laugh and sneer from the 
 sentinel, who probably took him to be drunk, was 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 23 
 
 all that came of it. This furnished a hint which 
 he improved; and after the same seemingly drunken 
 manner he descended to the lower floor, and made 
 his way out of the house. His friend was waiting 
 at the appointed place, but had failed of procuring 
 a boat, on account of extreme bad weather. ISTot a 
 moment could be lost ; but taking a pistol and a 
 hasty adieu, he was in a trice at the Fish-Market 
 landing. There, luckily, he found a negro fisher- 
 man bailing a boat ; and leaping into it and pre- 
 senting his pistol, he ordered him to his paddle and 
 off for Haddrell's Point. The affrighted fisherman 
 promptly obeyed, only exclaiming that they must 
 be lost : the boat could not possibly live in such a 
 storm. He paddled stoutly — as they well know 
 how to do — and my father found it necessary to be- 
 take himself, for his part, to bailing the boat of the 
 water which dashed in over her bows. But there 
 was another danger impending which he dreaded 
 even more than the agitated waters. The British 
 galleys were lying in the stream, and it was impos- 
 sible to escape their watchfulness. They must see 
 him, would hail him, and what should he do ? 
 The best expedient he could think of, and pro- 
 bably the only one which coulcUhave availed him, 
 was suggested by the lucky mistake of the sentry 
 on the staircase, taking him to be drunk ; and so 
 he summoned his utmost powers to act the part of 
 a drunken sailor. Long before the expected hail 
 of "What boat's that?" he began singing and 
 huzzaing lustily, now a stanza of some vulgar 
 
24 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 song, then " God save great George our king;" ming- 
 ling it to suit, and interlarding it with, all sorts of 
 drunken rhapsody. He was hailed, and returned 
 it by giving himself some common name, claiming 
 to belong to one of the galleys, and stoutly pro- 
 testing he was too drunk and the water too rough ; 
 huzzaing for the king, for the commandant, and 
 almost any British officer whose name he knew; 
 professing to be as brave and true as any of them, 
 but that he had got drunk among the " gals" on 
 shore, and would not come to. Of course, then, 
 he had to pass. He was not worth shooting at, 
 and the next day would bring him to condign 
 punishment. And now the jail, the storm, the 
 galleys, all were passed in safety ; and landing at 
 Haddrell's Point, and giving a guinea to the negro 
 whose boat and paddle had been so serviceable to 
 him, he was once more one of Marion's men. 
 
 But my honored father was a Christian. It was 
 on the first introduction of the Methodist ministry 
 into South Carolina that, under the preaching of 
 Henry Willis, of blessed memory, in the year 1786, 
 he was awakened and converted, and became a 
 soldier of the Prince of Peace. His name, and that 
 of my maternal grandfather, John Singe] tary, may 
 be seen in the original conveyances for the first 
 two Methodist churches built in Charleston, (Cum- 
 berland Street and Trinity,) of which they were 
 trustees. After his removal to Georgetown, in 
 1794, he became a strong pillar of the infant church 
 in that place, serving as trustee, steward, and 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 25 
 
 leader. A later removal to Waccamaw Neck proved 
 unfavorable to his spirituality, and it was not till 
 1808, in Sumter District, that lie recovered all that 
 he had lost of the life of faith. Thenceforward 
 till his final removal to the life above, December 
 12, 1812, he was a pattern of piety, an example of 
 pure and undefiled religion, such as for consist- 
 ency, simplicity, and power I have never known 
 excelled. His death was surpassingly triumphant. 
 I witnessed it, and was with him day and night for 
 several months whilst he was passing down into 
 the valley of Jordan. All was peace, and power, 
 and exultant hope. There was no moment of dark- 
 ness in his final sickness, no thorn in the pillow of 
 his repose, no distrust of the Saviour, no lack of 
 confidence in God, but gloriously the reverse. His 
 light was that of the perfect day, his peace was as 
 a river, he believed with all his heart, and at the 
 time of his extremest pain he would say, with 
 Job, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in 
 Him." 
 
 My mother was Mary, daughter of John and 
 Sarah Singeltary, of Cain Hoy, in the same Parish 
 of St. Thomas, aforesaid: another place of the 
 olden time, when South Carolina was peopled 
 mainly in the low country, and Wando river, of 
 whose banks Cain Hoy was the most notable place, 
 shared with Ashley river, Cooper river, and Goose 
 creek, in a high reputation for society, hospitality, 
 and all that ; times gone by with the generations 
 whose very tombs are now in ruins. But by one 
 2 
 
26 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 conversant with those times, (the late Captain 
 Hibben, of Hadclrell's Point,) I have heard my 
 grandfather spoken of as "the patriarch of Cain 
 Hoy."" And such I dare say he was, albeit a re- 
 cent visitor might entertain some doubt whether 
 the place had ever produced a man. But truly 
 there used to be men, who were men every inch of 
 them, not only on "Wando river, but along creeks 
 and swamps not a few, where now a ruined canal, 
 and heaps of crumbling bricks, and clumps or rows 
 of ornamental trees, tell mournfully of death and a 
 blight upon the land. 
 
 I have always felt it a pain that I never knew 
 my mother. She died when I was barely over two 
 years old. Often and eagerly have I inquired 
 about her: her person, her spirit, her piety, her 
 general bearing ; any thing that might help to raise 
 an image of her in my mind. In this way I have 
 learned that she was rather below the medium 
 height of women, delicately formed, of fair com- 
 plexion and light hair, with soft laughing blue 
 eyes, gentle but sprightly, affectionate and confid- 
 ing, a favorite with her friends, and my father's 
 idol ; and that her sweet spirit was ennobled by a 
 true Christian faith and purity of heart. I am in 
 possession of a letter from my father to my aunt, 
 the late Mrs. Bennett, of Haddrell's Point, in which 
 are related incidents of her final hours thrilling to 
 contemplate. She died when young, and rich in 
 blessings precious to the heart ; but she was more 
 than ready to obey the summons, "to be absent 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 27 
 
 from the body and present with, the Lord." Her 
 last moments, radiant with the light of heaven 
 before her, were mostly taken np with soothing ex- 
 hortations to her husband, and prayers and bless- 
 ings for her children. These were four: Sarah, 
 my beloved sister, who was the eldest, Gabriel the 
 second, myself the third, and John Singeltary, 
 (whose birth occasioned her death,) the fourth. 
 She had had a second daughter, Mary Singeltary, 
 who died some time before her. 
 
 My second mother, whose name also was Mary, 
 was a daughter of Samuel Wragg, Esq., of George- 
 town ; the same who was the original proprietor of 
 that part of Charleston called Wraggsboro' ; and 
 after whose daughters, Judith, Elizabeth, Ann, 
 Charlotte, Mary, and Henrietta, the streets bearing 
 those names were called. He had also two sons, 
 John and Samuel. My aunts (for my aunts they 
 were) Judith and Elizabeth lived to old age, 
 maiden ladies of uncommon understanding, (parti- 
 cularly Judith,) and distinguished to a high degree 
 for ardent piety and active benevolence. They 
 were Christian ladiesj and Methodists of the very 
 first model. Ann married a wealthy gentleman of 
 the name of Ferguson, and lived in Charleston, 
 with their estate on Cooper river. They were 
 Episcopalians ; and she was for many years First 
 Lady Commissioner of the Orphan House, which 
 noble institution was much indebted to her, and 
 has becomingly acknowledged it. Charlotte must 
 have died when young, as I have no recollection of 
 
28 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 her. Henrietta, the youngest of the daughters, 
 married Erasmus Rothmahler, Esq., of an old and 
 honorable family, and a lawyer of high respects, 
 but (unfortunately) an eccentric man. Of all my 
 near friends in childhood and youth, after my 
 father and mother, I loved my Aunt Henrietta best; 
 and to this d&y I remember her with strong affec- 
 tion, and I might say admiration, as a pattern of 
 all social excellence. And she too was a thorough 
 Methodist, 
 
 In what follows I will be understood always to 
 mean my father's second wife, my second mother, 
 by the appellative mother. I knew no other mother, 
 and I should offend the heart that throbs in my 
 bosom were I to call her stepmother. She was my 
 mother, and in heaven, in the presence of the 
 sainted one who bore me, I w^ill call her mother. 
 Pity on those poor children who, by their father's 
 marriage, have stepmothers only. My early recol- 
 lections mingle sweet images of my mother's love 
 and sympathy with all that concerned me. I was 
 liable to attacks of croup on any exposure to damp 
 weather ; xind so on rainy days I became her house- 
 keeper, carrying a bunch of keys at my side, giving 
 from the pantry breakfast, dinner, and supper, with 
 free use of the barrel of sugar and molasses-candy 
 for my pains — the indulgence, by the way, being 
 itself remedial. By a thousand arts of kind en- 
 dearment she attached me to her so closely, that I 
 scarcely felt it a privation to be shut up with her in 
 the house, while my brothers were pursuing their 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 29 
 
 sports in the fields. Those days were invaluable to 
 me. Converse with my mother was communion 
 with my guardian angel, while my good sister's 
 blithesome spirit (for she was always by) contri- 
 buted no little to my happiness. 
 
 My father's second marriage was in 1793, and 
 shortly afterwards he disposed of his estate in St. 
 Thomas's Parish, purchased a plantation on the is- 
 land between Waccamaw and Black rivers, and re- 
 moved his residence to Georgetown. "While his win- 
 ter residence had been on Bull Head, in St. Thomas's, 
 he passed his summers at a place- which he called 
 Capernaum, on the seashore, nearly opposite Ca- 
 pers's Island, in Christ Church Parish. He now 
 desired to find such a seashore place on "Waccamaw 
 Neck ; and as he did not like to live in town, and 
 his island plantation was a deep mud-swamp, un- 
 suitable for his residence, he was inclined to locate 
 himself permanently on the Waccamaw seashore. 
 A summer or two were passed at a rented place 
 called La Brace's, while for the winter and spring 
 he resided in town ; and then he purchased a place 
 some twenty miles from Georgetown, which he called 
 Belle Vue, and at which we lived during the years 
 1796, '97, and '98. It was beautifully open to the 
 ocean, having the prospect pleasantly dotted with 
 clumps of trees in the marshes, (called hammocks,) 
 and points of uncleared woods on the main land. 
 My recollections go back to the year 1795, at La 
 Bruce's seashore, where I killed a glass snake, the 
 image of which is still fresh to my mind ; and how, 
 
80 
 
 LIFE 0 J? WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 as I broke it to pieces with a small stick, the pieces, 
 when broken square off, wormed themselves about 
 as if alive. There, too, I myself had like to have 
 been killed by a vicious horse ; and there we had 
 the sport of smoking off the sand-flies. Do not 
 laugh. Prince Albert's boys never had a merrier 
 play. But Belle Vue was my childhood's darling 
 home. Here were those spacious old fields, over- 
 grown with dog-fennel, which my brother John and 
 myself used to course with such exquisite glee, 
 mounted on cornstalk horses, with bows and ar- 
 rows, when the dog-fennel served for woods, and a 
 cock-sparrow might be an old buck. Here stood 
 by the side of a purling branch, that grove of tall 
 trees where we found the grape-vine, by which we 
 used to swing so pleasantly. Here we had our 
 traps for catching birds, and caught them plenti- 
 fully ; and the damp days found me with my mother 
 and sister and the little ones, all so happy. And 
 here I got that masterly book for little boys, " Sand- 
 ford and Merton;" which, in my mother's hand, 
 proved invaluable to me. And, like Harry and 
 Tommy, my brothers and I would build little houses 
 wattled of clapboards and small poles, and exult 
 in our fancied manliness and capacity for independ- 
 ence. But we were sure to have a stronger arm 
 and better understanding than our own in all these 
 achievements of ours ; and without which it might 
 have been more than doubtful whether, after all, 
 we should have proved so competent to our under- 
 takings. Bless my father! Blessed be God that 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 81 
 
 lie was my father! . What should Belle Vue, with 
 all its play-places, have been without his super- 
 intendence, who seemed to enter into the spirit of 
 our childish entertainments as if he had been a 
 child himself, while still he never seemed below the 
 stature of the noblest man ? 
 
 But I must tell an anecdote or two of these early 
 years which savor less of simple, amiable child- 
 hood. My father was exceeding fond of gar cl 
 and had a large one; and we, his sons, f 
 doing like him, must also have our gardens. A 
 bed was appropriated to each one of us, { f(J abriel^ 
 myself, and John,) which we subdivided into tiny 
 beds, with narrow walks between, for the cultiva- 
 tion of just any thing we pleased. Radishes were 
 our favorite vegetable. I had them in my garden 
 full grown, while John's were but lately up. We 
 were together in our gardens, which touched each 
 other, and John wanted one of my radishes. Un- 
 luckily, I was out of humor, and refused him. 
 Unused to this, for generally we were fond to serve 
 each other, he heeded not my refusal, but plucked a 
 radish. This was an invasion of my rights, which, 
 in the mood I happened to be in, I would not per- 
 mit ; and so, instead of laughing at it, as at another 
 time I might have done, I plucked a handful of his 
 little ones in retaliation — reckoning the equivalent 
 (if I reckoned at all) by bulk. This angered him, 
 and he avenged himself by pulling up a quantity 
 of mine, as if reckoning by number for his com- 
 plement. A few minutes, and the radishes were 
 
32 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 destroyed, both mine and his, p,nd we were greatly 
 enraged against each other. At that moment our 
 father, who had been observing us from another 
 part of the garden, interfered ; and, as I was the 
 older, addressed himself first to me. The fault, I 
 insisted, was altogether John's, who had no right 
 to pluck my radishes against my will, He (my 
 father) would let no man serve him so ; and had 
 fought the British for no worse offence. But my 
 logic could not answer. "I must whip you," said 
 he; " and take your jacket off/' " Whip me, sir, 
 for John's fault ?" " For vour own fault, not John's." 
 " I declare, Pa, 'tis all John's fault; and I'll pull 
 off my shirt too, if you say so." " Off with it," was 
 the brief rejoinder; and off it came^vhen a smart 
 stroke of a switch across my naked shoulders, (the 
 first I had ever felt,) brought me as by magic to my 
 senses. It was the only stroke of punishment ever 
 inflicted on me by that honored hand. 
 
 My recollection of incidents of this period of my 
 childhood is vivid enough as to facts, but the order 
 of them as to time I cannot so well remember. I 
 date about a year later than the affair of the rad- 
 ishes the following story of the top. Both belong 
 to Belle Yue, and must have happened between the 
 years 1796 and 1799. My brothers and myself had 
 each obtained a top, which neither of us could 
 spin ; and a thought seized me to practice by my- 
 self at spinning my top, which, as other boys could 
 do it, I might learn, and by learning it sooner than 
 my brothers, might w T in some wager of them ; (for 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 33 
 
 each of us had something for his own of almost 
 every kind of property on the place.) In a short 
 time I had spun the top, and, elated with my suc- 
 cess, ran eagerly to find my brothers, that I might 
 make a bet. But they were abroad somewhere in 
 the fields, and a wager must be ventured with my 
 father, (if possibly he might be induced to make 
 one,) or my betting must be postponed to another 
 time. Too eager to allow of postponement, the 
 venture was made in an off-hand manner on the 
 spot. The stake was my heifer against his saddle- 
 horse that I could spin my top. "Done," said my 
 father, and I spun the top. Fantom w x as mine, and 
 I capered about the room, and would have run to 
 the stable to admire and caress him, but my father 
 sternly stopped me. " Honor even among rogues," 
 said he, "and if you turn gambler, you must do it 
 as they say, honorably. You are not to leave off 
 without giving me a chance to win my horse back." 
 Another trial, and I lost the horse. Another, and 
 another, and yet others ; and bursting into tears 
 I ran out of the room, having lost every thing I 
 called my own except a favorite white pullet. For 
 three days I bewailed my folly with all the bitter- 
 ness of utter bankruptcy ; while my brothers were 
 unsparing of their gibes, and my father seemed 
 coolly indifferent to it all. At last, finding me sit- 
 ting moodily alone, he approached with his usual 
 good-humor, and said he wanted to make a bargain 
 with me. "A bargain, sir!" said I, "what have I 
 to bargain with ? You have got all I had from me. ' ' 
 2* 
 
34 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 And if I had spoken all that I felt, I might have 
 added, that he knew it was wrong to bet, and ought 
 to have whipped me for offering him a wager, and 
 not to have done as he had done. But he insisted 
 that I was quite able to make the bargain he de- 
 sired ; and when he had constrained me to ask 
 what it was, he told me that all he had won should 
 be restored to me, and should be mine again just 
 as it formerly was, if I would pledge myself never 
 again to bet the value of a pin ; and on the further 
 condition, that if ever I did bet, I should forfeit to 
 him whatever should be mine at the time of bet- 
 ting. Never was a proposition more eagerly em- 
 braced ; and the final result of this strange inci- 
 dent was, that I became so thoroughly averse from 
 betting as never afterwards to be induced to bet. 
 Long after all fear of the forfeit originally pledged 
 had passed from my mind, and until a better gua- 
 ranty was furnished me in the grace of God, I not 
 only hated betting so as never to lay a wager, but 
 hated it to such a degree that I would break off 
 from any company I chanced to be in, the moment 
 it was proposed to play at any game for money. 
 
 But it is time for me to take leave of Belle Vue. 
 When my father purchased it, he did so with an 
 expectation of its proving healthy. It was incon- 
 veniently distant from his plantation, and we had 
 so few neighbors that to get a school he was obliged 
 to employ a teacher at his own expense. Neverthe- 
 less, for the sake of a pleasant and healthy resi- 
 dence, with the treasures of the sea at hand, these 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 35 
 
 inconveniences were not deemed considerable. 
 But the fall of the year 1798 proved extremely 
 sickly to us, and my precious little sister Judith 
 died. On this account, mainly, Belle Vue was 
 given up, and for the year 1799 we resided in 
 Georgetown. Not that this change could have 
 promised exemption from disease, hut that in case 
 of sickness we should there have medical aid. 
 Belle Vue had proved sickly; Georgetown might 
 not be more so ; and the latter place brought my 
 father near to his business, my mother near her sis- 
 ters, and all of us near the physician. But we were 
 not to suffer less by this removal ; for the autumn of 
 1799 was more fatal to our family than the previous 
 one had been. All of us were sick; another 
 younger sister (Elizabeth) died; I myself escaped 
 death as by miracle ; and the fatal blow was struck 
 which deprived my father of one of the best of 
 wives, and me of my incomparable mother. The 
 following winter my widowed father dismissed his 
 overseer, and the plantation became our home. Dur- 
 ing the year 1800 I was daily put across the river in a 
 small boat with my brothers, and went to Mr. 
 Harnett's school in Georgetown. We dined with our 
 good aunts, the Misses Wragg, and returned home in 
 the evening as we had come in the mornin g, a servant 
 always having the boat in readiness for us at the 
 riv.er-bank, in sight of -town. My father seldom 
 went to town, nor, indeed, anywhere else ; and yet 
 my young heart knew not that he was unhappy. 
 The next spring (1801) I was sent, with my brother 
 
36 
 
 LIFE OJP WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Ga briel, to school on Pee-Dee, some thirty miles 
 from Georgetown, where a Mr. Collins was the 
 teacher; but, for some sufficient cause, he suddenly 
 left his charge, and after a month or two we re- 
 turned home. 
 
 This period, when the island rice-swamp was my 
 home, introduced me to the use of a gun. It was 
 before the Northern lakes had been much settled, 
 on which bred so many myriads of ducks and wild 
 geese ; and these migrated to our low country rivers 
 and rice-fields for the winters, in prodigious num- 
 bers. From my father's river-bank on the Wacca- 
 maw on one side, or the Black river on the other, 
 innumerable flocks of them might at any time be 
 seen ; and better-flavored birds than several varie- 
 ties of the ducks were, after they had grown fat on 
 the waste rice, I know not. My father taught me 
 the use of the gun with great care : how to handle 
 it, to load it, to shoot with a true aim, and to keep 
 it in good order ; so that before I was twelve years 
 old I believe I was as safe in the use of this dan- 
 gerous implement as I have since been, and nearly 
 or quite as good a marksman. I generally shot 
 ducks in the river ; observing from a distance at what 
 particular points they w^ere nearest to the land, and 
 then creeping after them behind the river-bank, 
 (that is, the embankment raised along the margin 
 of the river for the purpose of keeping off the 
 water at the flood-tide.) A well-trained dog kept 
 close behind me, creeping when he saw me creep, 
 or stopping at a motion of my hand, and instantly 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 37 
 
 on the firing of the gun springing into the water 
 and fetching out the game. So abundant were 
 they, and easy to be shot, that I would not fire at 
 inferior kinds, but only at the large gray duck, the 
 mallard or English duck, the bullneck, or the deli- 
 cious little teal ; which last was the least common, 
 and was most esteemed, though not more than a 
 third as large as the black or gray duck, or half as 
 large as the mallard. 
 
 But farewell to the island and its game, after 
 only one incident of imminent peril to me. It was 
 some time in the summer of 1800 that, as we were 
 sitting in the piazza overlooking the fields, we were 
 startled at seeing the whole gang of negroes, men 
 and women, running as for life towards the house. 
 My father, my brother Gabriel and myself ran out 
 to know the cause, and tEought we heard the fore- 
 most ones crying out, "A deer, a deer!" My father 
 took his gun in haste, thinking that a deer chased 
 by hunters on the Waccamaw side of the river 
 had swum across it, and was making for the un- 
 cleared swamp just in our rear, and that he would 
 run probably on the western side of the settlement, 
 where he might get a shot at him. On the eastern 
 side was the barnyard, and mill for pounding rice ; 
 and to prevent his going that way, and to increase 
 the chances for a shot on the other, he bade my 
 brother and me to run' in that direction with the 
 dogs. Now, for the special security of the barnyard, 
 there was a much higher embankment thrown up 
 
38 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 around it than around other parts of the settlement, 
 so that we could not see over it what might be run- 
 ning in the fields beyond. With the dogs, then, we 
 made all speed to the barnyard, entered it, were 
 running across it, and at the very point of rising 
 on the farther bank, there met us on the top of it, 
 and just opposite the point we had reached, a great 
 bear. Petrified with horror, we could not, at first, 
 move a peg. The dogs had better command of their 
 legs, and, except Dash, (the dog that fetched the 
 ducks,) they ran away at the top of their speed. 
 0, that frightful bear! He growled, raised his 
 bristles, champed with his teeth, bent his body like 
 a bow, all before we could do any thing more than 
 stare at him. But Dash delivered us. Quick as 
 was the retreat of the rest, was his advance upon 
 the frightful foe ; and it seemed to be his bark that 
 relaxed our nerves and enabled us to run. We had 
 not so much as a stick in our hands. Dash seized 
 the bear just by the tail, and obliged him to give 
 him his attention. Bruin shook him off and made 
 at us ; but again Dash had him by the hinder parts. 
 And thus it was between them several minutes, till 
 my father, learning his mistake, came running, and 
 the whole plantation with him, to the rescue. 
 Negroes are famous for their noisiness when ex- 
 cited ; but did ever the same number make such a 
 noise as those then did, as entering the barnyard 
 they saw the danger we were in ? At any rate, 
 they scared that bear no less than they gave us 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 89 
 
 courage, and lie made away as fast as lie could, and 
 liid himself under the mill. He was made bacon 
 of afterwards, and I ate some of it. 
 
 In September, 1801, my brother Gabriel and my- 
 self were sent to Dr. Roberts's academy, near 
 Statesburg, in Sumter District, and were boarded 
 with a Mrs. Jefferson. And this I reckon an im- 
 portant epoch in my life. Hitherto, whether in 
 Georgetown, at Belle Vue, or at the island planta- 
 tion, I had been accustomed to all the endearments 
 of home, sweet home ; a home where all my wants 
 were anticipated, and not only every comfort was 
 at hand, but the ministries of tender love were ever 
 active for my happiness. The death of my mother 
 was a sore affliction; but my sister (then just 
 grown) became to me sister and mother both, and 
 what was there lacking to me ? Truly, nothing. 
 But how different was it with me now, boarding a 
 hundred miles away with Mrs. Jefferson. To what 
 purpose had my heart been cultivated, when there 
 was no one to sympathize with me, and whom I 
 might love ? That I slept on a mattress on the 
 floor, with sheets of osnaburgs, and that my fare 
 consisted of middling bacon and corn-bread, was 
 a secondary matter. I felt a burden of want of 
 another kind, though this also seemed severe. 
 True, my brother Gabriel was with me, but where 
 were my father, my sister, my brother John, and 
 my younger brother and sisters, Samuel, Mary, and 
 Henrietta ? Could my one brother be all these to 
 me? Of necessity I sought to be loved by my 
 
40 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 hostess, and plied every art in my power to induce 
 it, but to no purpose. ITor could I love her any 
 more than I could make her love me. She did, 
 indeed, once compliment me as the best of her 
 boarders ; but the very term boarders, in the cold, 
 long-drawn utterance she gave it, told me that she 
 did not love me. And then when she picked the 
 thorn out of my foot with a coarse needle, she did 
 it so roughly, never pitying me nor seeming to 
 know that she was putting me to pain, though the 
 blood trickled from the wound. The case was. 
 hopeless, and I was forced to retire within myself 
 to supply as I might the want, the broad waste 
 want of home. And yet she was a very good 
 woman. 
 
 But every day was improving my bodily health 
 and strength. And though I fed on little else than 
 corn-bread, (for I could not brook the middling 
 bacon,) I was far more active and growing faster 
 than ever before. My boarding-house stood on the 
 main road between Statesburg and Camden, just 
 three miles from the former place, and touching 
 the road. The academy was a mile and a half 
 from it, on the summit of a hill ; and this distance 
 was my daily walk to and from school. The mid- 
 day recess was passed at the schoolhouse, to which 
 we carried our dinner of corn-bread and bacon in 
 a large tin bucket. And for dinner, my usual 
 practice was to throw away the bacon, and repair 
 to a neighboring spring of cold pure water, with a 
 pone of bread, and there substituting my hand or 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 41 
 
 a hickory leaf for a cup, make my meal, right 
 frugally at least. At first I could not possibly 
 make the walk to school without resting by the 
 way; and even to ascend the hill on which the 
 schoolhouse stood put me out of breath; but it 
 was not long before I could even run the whole 
 distance. The truth was, that up to this period I 
 had been but a puny child ; frequently sick, some- 
 times extremely ill ; and but for this great change 
 must probably have grown up, if at all, too delicate 
 of constitution for laborious life. I am so fully of 
 this persuasion, as to regard it providential that 
 my father's business would not allow of his accom- 
 panying us on our way up, and we were committed 
 to the care of a onesided friend of his to be entered 
 at the academy and suitably boarded. Mr. Camp- 
 bell could, but our father could not have subjected 
 us to the extreme privations of such a boarding- 
 house as ours, and the exposure of so long a 
 walk in all kinds of weather: privations and ex- 
 posures, nevertheless, for which I have long since 
 known no regret, but on the contrary, have felt 
 thankful. 
 
 And here both nature and gratitude require me 
 to introduce the name of my father's only brother, 
 Captain George Sinclair Capers, my most kind and 
 truly honored uncle. Some years previously to 
 this time he had removed from St. James's, Santee, 
 to Sumter District, and located himself in what ^ 
 was called Rembert's Settlement, some eight or 
 nine miles from our academy ; and our Saturdays 
 
42 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 and Sundays were usually passed with. him. His 
 practice was to send horses for us every Friday 
 evening, and send us back again on Monday morn- 
 ing. Nature, how true is nature ! and a child's 
 heart is nature's own. I could love nothing be- 
 longing to my boarding-house, and had no play- 
 places there ; no, not one ; unless a wide-spreading 
 oak should be called a play-place, to which I used 
 to withdraw myself and sit among the boughs for 
 hours together in moody reveries of home. But I 
 loved the very horse that carried me to my uncle's 
 door ; and there every thing interested me. I was 
 loved, and was so far happy. 
 
 About the close of the year 1801, my father ex- 
 changed his island plantation for one on Wacca- 
 maw river, adjoining the estate of John Tucker, 
 Esq. ; tired, I suppose, of living in a swamp, 
 where his very dwelling-house had to be protected 
 from the overflowing tides by embankments. 
 Home was thus again transferred to Waccamaw, 
 though it was not long to be continued so. The 
 Christmas holidays of 1802, 1803, and 1804, were all 
 I enjoyed of it; the first with boundless satisfac- 
 tion ; and the second and third only less so because 
 of the absence of my sister, now married in Sum- 
 ter District : if I might not also suppose that with 
 less of innocency there is usually less of the pure 
 zest of pleasure at fourteen than eleven. 
 
 I have gone over, thus hastily, that period of .my 
 life which of all others interests me most. Can it 
 be peculiar to myself that at my time of life I 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 43 
 
 should delight greatly in recollections of my child- 
 hood ; reenacting, as it were, the scenes and pas- 
 times of the little boy — my own childhood's fond 
 amusements — for the entertainment of my gray 
 hairs ? A few years ago I found a habit of indulg- 
 ing such fancies growing on me to such a degree 
 that I thought it proper to restrain myself; and 
 yet to some extent it may not prove amiss, but 
 even wholesome. I love my childhood for its inno- 
 cence, its harmless gayety, its simple gladsome 
 pastimes, its gushing sympathies, its treasures of 
 affection, its unsuspecting confidence, its joyous- 
 ness, its happy world of home. I love it because 
 it was artless and without guile or guilt, free from 
 the curse and blight of carking care, uncorrupted, 
 trustful, self-satisfied. In a word, I love it for its 
 naturalness, and because I was happy in it. Bless- 
 ings on the memory of my honored parents that it 
 was so ! And I say now, let the children be 
 children. Let them have their plays in their own 
 way, and choose them for themselves. We only 
 spoil it by interfering. And I say more : away 
 with all sickly sentimentalism, and the cruelty of 
 unnatural constraint. "What a deprivation it would 
 have been to me at Belle Vue to have been refused 
 my traps because it was cruel to catch the birds ! 
 But I had my traps, and never dreamed of any 
 cruelty in the matter. My father made the first 
 one for me, and taught me how to make them, and 
 how to set them, and to choose proper places for 
 them. But he never made a cage for me, nor did 
 
44 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 I ever want him to make one. God had given me 
 the birds to eat, if I could catch them ; but not to 
 shut them up in cages where they could do me no 
 good. ISTo artificial cases of conscience were made 
 for me. I loved the birds. I loved to see their 
 pretty feathers, and to hear them sing ; but I loved 
 to taste of their flesh still better. And I might do 
 so as inoffensively as a cat, for any thing I was 
 taught. The use gave the measure of right in the 
 case. Such as I could not eat I would not catch. 
 And I hate this day the mawkish philosophy which 
 gives to the birds the sympathy due to the child- 
 ren. Let the children be free and active. Let 
 them have a mind and will. And let them have 
 a parent's gentle, faithful guidance : neither the ill- 
 judging weakness which is ever teasing them with 
 interjections that mean nothing; nor the false re- 
 finement which, while it must have the birds go 
 free to carol in the groves, makes caged birds of the 
 little children ; nor the tyranny of constraining 
 them out of all their simple gleeful nature to be- 
 have like old people. 
 
 My father married a third wife early in the year 
 1803, and bes;an to spend his summers in the 
 neighborhood of Bradford's Springs, in Sumter 
 District. Some time before this, my boarding- 
 house at school had been changed from the place 
 before mentioned to that of my preceptor, hard by 
 the academy. This was a 'decided improvement; 
 for Mr. Roberts not only furnished better fare, but 
 was himself a man for one to love and honor. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 45 
 
 The summers of 1803, 1804, and 1805, were passed 
 pleasantly enough, while the Saturdays and Sun- 
 days were spent at our new summer home, with 
 delightful visits to my honored uncle and beloved 
 sister, then Mrs. Guerry. A summer residence 
 near Bradford's Springs was well enough ; but my 
 father was too active to be content at such a dis- 
 tance from his plantation, and without any positive 
 employment to occupy his time. This change for 
 the summer, therefore, led to a much more im- 
 portant one, which, as things turned out, proved 
 highly detrimental on the score of property. In 
 1805 he was induced to sell his plantation on 
 Waccamaw river, and purchase a cotton plantation 
 on the Wateree, near Statesburg. He sold also 
 his summer place the following year, and pur- 
 chased a seat for permanent residence on the Hills, 
 some five or six miles from the Wateree plantation, 
 and just three and a half miles from Statesburg, on 
 the road to Darlington. I do not remember the 
 price, and cannot judge of its sufficiency, for the 
 Waccamaw place ; but the price given for the place 
 purchased in its stead was certainly low enough. 
 He gave for it six thousand dollars. And this 
 must have been low; for when five years after- 
 wards he judged it prudent to sell it, and remove 
 to a less valuable place in the Black river portion 
 of the District, it brought him eleven thousand 
 dollars. And when the payment of the last instal- 
 ment of this sum was refused, on the pretext that 
 some particular portion of the land deemed better 
 
46 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 than the rest had fallen short of the quantity sup- 
 posed, Mr. McLauchlan, the next neighbor, and a 
 responsible man, said on his oath in court that he 
 believed it to be worth twenty thousand dollars. 
 This was after the close of the war, and the price 
 of cotton had risen very much ; but eleven thou- 
 sand dollars was the price stipulated during the 
 war, when the price of cotton was at its lowest. 
 And yet my father made a sad bargain in purchas- 
 ing it for that much smaller sum of six thousand 
 dollars, as this purchase involved the sale of his 
 rice lands, and the transfer of his planting interest 
 from rice to cotton, just at the point of time when 
 the value of a rice crop was to be doubled, and that 
 of a cotton crop reduced to almost nothing. Never- 
 theless, God's hand was in it for good. My mother's 
 dying prayers had not yet been answered; nor 
 might they have been on "Waccamaw without a 
 miracle. Her daughter was now a mother, and her 
 sons were fast growing up without knowing her 
 God in the light of her faith, or being concerned 
 so to know Him. 
 
 I was continued with Dr. Roberts till Decem- 
 ber, 1805, when I was admitted into the South 
 Carolina College. This Dr. John M. Roberts was 
 a minister of the Baptist Church ; a most estim- 
 able man and a good scholar, but an imperfect 
 teacher. In Latin his text-books were Corderius, 
 Erasmus, Cornelius Nepos, Csesar, Sallust, Virgil, 
 Cicero's Orations, and Horace's Odes and Art of 
 Poetry. These I had read, and could translate 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 47 
 
 after a fashion, but had little knowledge of the 
 analysis of what was translated. In recitation, our 
 too easy instructor seemed to be more apprehen- 
 sive of detecting the deficiency of his pupils, than 
 we were of being exposed. His manner was that 
 of one who might not expect us to know what we 
 ought to have known ; and asking us only ques- 
 tions as to points of obvious construction, he 
 reserved to himself the parsing of all difficult pas- 
 sages. Of Greek, I had read the Gospel by St. 
 John, and one or two of the Epistles, and perhaps 
 a third part of Xenophon's Cyropedia. And with 
 only this exceeding lame preparation, I was to 
 enter the Sophomore class. It was little better than 
 preposterous ; and yet so did I rely on my teacher's 
 judgment, and so did Dr. Maxcy, the President of 
 the college, rely on it, or on his representations of 
 me, that with no higher pretensions I actually was 
 admitted Sophomore. Dr. Maxcy did indeed tell 
 me that my examination had not been satisfactory, 
 and did not justify my admission, and that he would 
 prefer to have me enter college as Freshman. 
 But I was out for Sophomore ; and Sophomore it 
 was, sadly to my cost. For to say nothing of 
 geometry, and other studies, in which my class- 
 mates were ahead of me; and even overlooking 
 my deficiency in Latin, of which I knew little 
 more than barely to turn it iuto English, what pos- 
 sibly might I do with the Greek ? Homer was the 
 text-book, when I knew not much of the grammar 
 of the language; and that little only as it was 
 
48 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 required for St. John and Xenophon; and when 
 I had not the remotest idea of the change of form 
 wrought by the dialects in the language of Homer ; 
 and the class having read the book once, and some 
 of them twice through, a hundred lines were given 
 us for a lesson ; and when, above all, I was so 
 proud of heart as to be fully determined to hide 
 if possible my ignorance, and ask instruction of 
 no one. The very difficulties in my way were hid- 
 den from me, so that it sometimes cost me an hour's 
 diligent search to find the indicative present of a 
 single verb, changed, I knew not how, nor from 
 what, by some unknown dialect. Pride is always 
 folly, and in this instance it was madness. But I 
 reasoned thus : Though I cannot get the present 
 lesson, yet the getting of what I can will contri- 
 bute something towards the next, and that towards 
 the next, until I shall have got able to accomplish 
 all that is required of me. But the madness of 
 my folly was the obstinacy with which I exacted 
 of myself, in such circumstances, the labor of 
 plodding through my task, if at all, without assist- 
 ance. This I would not have, because I could not 
 get it without a betrayal of my ignorance. My 
 whole time, and much more than my whole time, 
 was therefore devoted to study; which I relaxed 
 not for any fatigue from the hour of three o'clock 
 in the morning to eleven at night — allowing my- 
 self but four hours in bed, and not a moment for 
 any recreation. At three in the morning I sat 
 down to Homer, Schrevelius, and the Greek gram- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 49 
 
 mar, till prayers at six; after which came the 
 dreaded recitation. My other studies employed 
 me till five P. M., bating only meals and recita- 
 tions. At five o'clock prayers and supper inter- 
 rupted me ; and then till eleven, when I went to 
 bed, I resumed the heartless task of Homer and his 
 dialects. Twenty hours out of twenty-four spent 
 in this manner soon worked mischief to my nerves. 
 The little time I w T as in bed, I could not sleep for 
 nightmare ; I grew pale and tremulous, had in- 
 cessant headache, and should probably have driven 
 myself to death, but for an incident which brought 
 my great and good friend, Dr. Maxcy, to my rescue. 
 I told him all, and his noble nature seemed to yearn 
 over me. I must desist from study ; return home 
 for the summer ; (it was then May, 1806 ;) and re- 
 turning in November, join the class which he at 
 first recommended for me. I felt both the wisdom 
 of his advice and the goodness -which dictated it, 
 and acted accordingly. But extreme was the mor- 
 tification I experienced in having to abandon the 
 achievement I had undertaken of equalling my 
 superiors, and give up the struggle for a standing 
 in the class of which Harper, Evans, Miller, Eeed, 
 and others like them, were members. 
 
 I purpose in these recollections to give you what 
 I remember of myself faithfully, though some 
 things, and especially at this period, may not now 
 have my approval. It was early summer in 1806. 
 I was at home ; at the place called Woodland, late- 
 ly purchased for a residence, on the Hills above 
 3 
 
50 
 
 LITE OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 Statesburg. And interdicted close study, I was to 
 recover strength and spirits by free exercise of any 
 kind. And a scheme struck me for improving this 
 time towards my advancement in future life. Sum- 
 ter District then, as now, was divided into two elec- v 
 tion districts, Cleremont and Clarendon. Clere- 
 mont was mine : of which the population for the 
 most part belonged to Salem and Black river, and 
 were at that period averse from the people of the 
 Hills, as being too aristocratic. At Bradford's 
 Springs, I would have been on the stronger side, 
 but our present residence put me in the minority 
 portion of the district; and the scheme referred to 
 was for the purpose of overcoming this disadvan- 
 tage. For already I was looking with downright 
 ambition (perhaps I should say vanity) to enter 
 the Legislature as soon as I should be of age ; and 
 if I might accomplish this, I would deem it an 
 equivalent for being retarded in my progress 
 through college. My plan was this : There was a 
 popular academy kept at that time on Black river 
 by a brother of my late preceptor ; and while I had 
 reason to believe that I was favorably known to 
 him, many of his larger pupils had become ac- 
 quainted with me during my visits to my uncle, 
 and attending church in that quarter. Now, then, 
 I proposed to visit this academy, and to make 
 friends of those youngsters, and of their friends 
 through them. I would propose instituting a de- 
 bating society, to meet once a month, or oftener, 
 with honorary members of the men of influence in 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 51 
 
 that quarter ; taking care to provide for an oration 
 on the 4th of July by one of the members. It was 
 successfully managed. An election to the presi- 
 dency of the society was declined, for the alleged 
 reason that the office ought to be held in connec- 
 tion with the school, and I was rather young to be 
 a president ; but more, in fact, because I preferred 
 figuring as a debater, and deemed it politic to ap- 
 pear deferential. But no modesty of youth, or 
 deference to older boys, was suffered to prevent my 
 acceptance of the appointment as orator for the 4th 
 of July, which I would endeavor to sustain to ike 
 best of my poor abilities, and hoping for all due 
 allowance for my youth. I know not how long the 
 society lasted ; but I know that I counted that 4th 
 of July for a day. The oration was long enough, 
 and sufficiently spiced with youthful patriotism, 
 the Black river boys, the pride of the country, and 
 all that. And besides having the whole country 
 around to hear me, there was a great dinner; and 
 at the dinner just such a sort of toast as it tickled 
 my vanity to hear. 
 
 Another story of very different import, and yet 
 somewhat connected in its origin with the preced- 
 ing, belongs to this summer of 1806. Towards the 
 latter end of the summer, a camp-meeting was held 
 in Kembert's settlement, where the people were 
 mostly Methodists ; and my uncle and family at- 
 tending it, made it convenient for me also to attend. 
 Of course this would be agreeable; for although I 
 was not' prepared to use it for the proper spiritual 
 
52 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 purposes of such a meeting, and yet had too high 
 a sense of propriety to go to such a place for the 
 purpose of electioneering, still, as my youth must 
 protect me from any imputation of bad motives, it 
 might be well enough to go just as a friend among 
 friends, and to make more friends. Of this camp- 
 meeting my recollections are about as distinct as 
 of most I have attended of later years. The num- 
 ber of people occupying tents was much greater 
 than it had been at two previous meetings of the 
 same kind, in 1802 and 1803, in that neighborhood ; 
 both of which I had attended with my uncle's fami- 
 ly, and at which wagons and awnings made of 
 coverlets and blankets were mostly relied on, in 
 place of tents. The tents too, (of this meeting in 
 1806,) though much smaller and less commodious 
 than in later years, were larger and better than at 
 the former meetings. But still, at the tents as well 
 as at the wagons of the camp, there was very little 
 cooking done, but every one fed on cold provisions, 
 or at least cold meats. Compared to those first 
 two camp-meetings, this one differed also in the 
 more important respects of management and the 
 phases of the work of God. At the first one, 
 (1802,) particularly, (which was held on McOirt's 
 branch, below the point where the Statesburg and 
 Darlington road crosses it,) I recollect little that 
 looked like management. There were two stands 
 for preaching, at a distance of about two hundred 
 yards apart ; and sometimes there was preaching at 
 one, sometimes at the other, and sometimes at both 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 53 
 
 simultaneously. This was evidently a bad arrange- 
 ment ; for I remember seeing the people running 
 hastily from one place to the other, as some sudden 
 gush of feeling venting itself aloud, and perhaps 
 with strange bodily exercises, called their attention 
 off. As to the times of preaching, I think there 
 were not any stated hours, but it was left to cir- 
 cumstances; sometimes oftener, sometimes more 
 seldom. The whole camp was called up, by blow- 
 ing a horn, at the break of day ; before sunrise it 
 was blown again ; and I doubt if after that there 
 were any regular hours for the services of the 
 meeting. But what was most remarkable both, at 
 this camp-meeting and the following one, a year 
 afterwards, (1803,) as distinguishing them from the 
 present meeting of 1806, and much more from later 
 camp-meetings, was the strange and unaccountable 
 bodily exercises which prevailed there. In some 
 instances, persons who were not before known to 
 be at all religious, or under any particular concern 
 about it, would suddenly fall to the ground, and 
 become strangely convulsed with what was called 
 the jerks; the head and neck, and sometimes the 
 body also, moving backwards and forwards with 
 spasmodic violence, and so rapidly that the plaited 
 hair of a woman's head might be heard to crack. 
 This exercise was not peculiar to feeble persons, 
 nor to either sex, but, on the contrary, was most 
 frequent to the strong and athletic, whether man 
 or woman. I never knew it among children, nor 
 
54 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 very old persons. In other cases, persons falling 
 down would appear senseless, and almost lifeless, 
 for hours together; lying motionless at full length 
 on the ground, and almost as pale as corpses. And 
 then there was the jumping exercise, which some- 
 times approximated dancing; in which several 
 persons might be seen standing perfectly erect, and 
 springing upward without seeming to bend a joint 
 of their bodies. Such exercises were scarcely, if at 
 all, present among the same people at the camp- 
 meeting of 1806. And yet this camp-meeting was 
 not less remarkable than the former ones, and very 
 much more so than any I have attended in later 
 years, for the suddenness with which sinners of 
 every description were awakened, and the over- 
 whelming force of their convictions ; bearing them 
 instantly down to their knees, if not to the ground, 
 crying for mercy. At this meeting I became clear- 
 ly convinced that there was an actual, veritable 
 power of God's grace in persons then before me, 
 and who were known to me, by which they were 
 brought to repentance and a new life; and that 
 with respect to the latter, (a state of regeneration 
 and grace,) the evidence of their possessing it was 
 as full and satisfactory as it was that they had been 
 brought to feel the guilt and condemnation of their 
 sins. I did not fall at any time, as I saw others do ; 
 but with the conviction clear to my apprehension 
 as to what was the true character of the work be- 
 fore me, "that it was of God, while I feared greatly, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 55 
 
 I could not but desire that I might become a par- 
 taker of the benefit. Still I kept myself aloof, I 
 knew not why. 
 
 The meeting oyer, I stopped for a day or two at 
 my uncle's. The day that I left it, as I dwelt on 
 its scenes, with the sounds belonging to those scenes 
 still lingering on my ear, and my spirit confidently 
 approving, I felt a lively satisfaction in the contem- 
 plation of what appeared to me to be the greatest 
 possible discovery, which was, that a sinner could 
 be forgiven his sins ; could be reconciled to God ; 
 could have peace with God, witnessed by the Holy 
 Spirit, through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. Yet 
 I w^as conscious of no painful conviction of sin ; no 
 working of a godly sorrow ; no extraordinary sense 
 of guilt; no action of repentance. Indeed, my feel- 
 ings seemed absorbed in this sense of satisfaction 
 that beyond all doubt I had learned so great a les- 
 son. For though I had not experienced it in my 
 own soul, I was satisfied of the verity of it by the 
 consent of my consciousness as to what I had wit- 
 nessed in others ; something which I myself had 
 also felt serving to demonstrate the truth of the 
 whole, as piece and part of that whole. But as I 
 was going to bed that night, I found myself strong- 
 ly arrested with the thought of my responsibility for 
 the use I should make of the light afforded me. 
 Ought I not instantly to pray? I was a sinner, and 
 repentance and forgiveness of sins was offered 
 me. Must it not turn fearfully to my condemnation 
 if I did not forthwith seek it ? I fell on my knees 
 
56 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 and continued all night in prayer to God. Returning 
 home, I occupied myself, for several weeks, with noth- 
 ing else but devotion. My whole time was given to 
 reading the Scriptures, meditation^and prayer. And 
 yet while I never distrusted the certainty of the 
 great truths just stated, and although my purpose 
 to ptirsue after them knew no abatement, there was 
 no one point of time at which I was enabled to re- 
 alize their fulfilment in my own case, so as to be 
 assured that I myself had passed from death to life 
 by the blood of Jesus. I still felt, at the best, that 
 I was but a servant, not a son. Thus it was with 
 me when, on one of my fast-days, having taken my 
 Bible with me into the woods with a purpose of 
 spending the day there in devotion, and having 
 continued a long time on my knees, I became so 
 much exhausted as to fall asleep. I cannot describe 
 — it can scarcely be imagined — in what terror I 
 awoke. Asleep at prayer ! Fasting and praying 
 with the Bible open before me, and asleep ! I seemed 
 to myself a monster of profanity, who had mocked 
 God to his face, and must surely have committed 
 the unpardonable sin. "What was I to do ? And 
 there appeared nothing, nothing ! And I was ready 
 to condemn myself as a trifler from the beginning, 
 whose want of reverence had thus betrayed itself in 
 what seemed to be the most presumptuous form of 
 sinning. Alas for me, a darkness as of death 
 shrouded my spirit ; and how I might penetrate it, 
 I knew not. 
 
 The Hills in the neighborhood of Statesburg fur- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 57 
 
 nish beautiful seats for residence ; and in my youth, 
 and more recently, (if not at the present time,) there 
 was no part of South Carolina more remarkable 
 than that neighborhood for elegance and fashion. 
 At the time of our date, (1806,) we had within a 
 compass of a few miles, Judge Waties, the May- 
 rants, General and Colonel Sumter, Mr. (afterwards 
 Judge) Richardson, Dr. Brownfield, and others, who 
 were permanent residents, besides still others of the 
 elite of the low country, who passed their summers 
 there. Balls were frequent; and the season for 
 them was just commencing at the time of the un- 
 happy incident just mentioned. And as if the 
 malice and subtlety of my mortal foe had been con- 
 centrated on that fatal hour, there met me, as I 
 returned to the house from that melancholy scene 
 of the wood, a well-known card, " To tea, and spend 
 the evening. " It was an invitation to a ball. The 
 bare coincidence of such an invitation at such a 
 moment seemed to tell me that I was doomed, and 
 there was nothing better left for me. But could I 
 so suddenly give up all hope of the better things 
 I had been seeking ? Was it impossible for me to 
 become a spiritual Christian ? And was the world 
 my only heritage ; and must I return to it in de- 
 spair of ever inheriting the better world above ? 
 What an hour was that ! First, there was the incu- 
 bus of an undefined condemnation for the monstros- 
 ity of falling asleep on my knees. Then, I was 
 not a Methodist ; and now, probably, never could 
 be. My religious feelings had been known to no 
 3* 
 
58 LIFE OP WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 one out of my immediate family ; and in the pre- 
 sent state of things had better not become known, 
 as I could not hope to be a Christian. True, I could 
 no longer find any enjoyment in the pleasures of 
 the gay world ; but situated as I was, it would be 
 useless to give offence, and break with my former 
 associates. 
 
 Surely no one ever went to meet associates in a 
 ballroom in so sad a mood. I was going to a ball 
 as to an antechamber of the pit below ; and yet I 
 was going. I felt a loathing of it, as of a cup 
 which had intoxicated me in time past, but which 
 was now presented with its wine turned into gall, 
 and yet I was going to taste of that loathsome cup. 
 On the way I would have turned back and gone 
 home ; but no, the invitation had been accepted, 
 and must be complied with. If I did not go, what 
 should I answer when I might be asked for the 
 reason of it ? And might it not even serve as a 
 rebuke of dancing for me to go and then decline 
 dancing, of wiiich I had been known to be exceed- 
 ing fond? But enough of this unpleasant story. 
 I went. And having gone, I danced. The hour 
 was late when I got home and to bed — to bed 
 without prayer! But the flurry of my spirits and 
 bodily fatigue, after such a day and so much of 
 such a night, made it easier for me to go to bed 
 without prayer than I was to find it in the morning 
 to go away from my bed without prayer. Then I 
 was calm and recollected ; and may God save you 
 from ever suffering any thing like the sinking of 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 59 
 
 heart, and that hopelessness with which, that morn- 
 ing, I left that bedside without daring so much as 
 to bow my knees. I felt as one wandering along 
 some dark labyrinthian way, who had been given 
 a light and had extinguished it. First, the scene 
 of the wood the day before, and then the ball at 
 night, and my light was out. No mitigating cir- 
 cumstances could avail to comfort me, and I gave 
 up all for lost. 
 
 But there was one thing which I could not be 
 tempted to give up. It was graven as with the 
 point of a diamond on the tablet of my heart, and 
 planted as with the finger of God deep and abiding 
 in the consciousness of my nature. I would never 
 give up the recollection of the past few weeks. 
 And that recollection, mournful as it was, proved 
 invaluable to me. It fixed and riveted in my 
 mind a conviction of the truth of the gospel and 
 spiritual religion so firmly, that no plausibility of 
 infidel reasoning could ever afterwards shake it. 
 And w^hen, (as you shall see,) after so long a time, 
 the phantasm of the unpardonable iniquity of the 
 incident just recited had been dispelled, and I was 
 again to be found calling upon God, no temptation 
 ever prevailed to beat me off from the sinner's 
 only hope, the cross of Christ and prayer. 
 
 In the winter I returned to college, fully equal 
 to my studies as they then w^ere, and in no great 
 danger of excessive diligence. Still, I had a pride 
 of associating with those whom I had so vainly 
 striven to overtake, and to rank above my years in 
 
60 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the society hall if I might not in the class-room. 
 Among the seniors of that year (1807) were "Wil- 
 liam T. Brantly, the late lamented President of the 
 college at Charleston, John Murphy, late Governor 
 of the State of Alabama, and James Gregg, who 
 has been for many years an honor to the bar of 
 South Carolina, and one of her ablest senators. 
 Of the juniors I have already mentioned "William 
 Harper, since Chancellor and a senator of the 
 United States, Josiah J. Evans, one of the judges 
 of South Carolina, Stephen D. Miller, late Governor 
 of that State, and others. To my own class, as it 
 now was, belonged William J. Grayson, since col- 
 lector of the port of Charleston, Col. Wade Hamp- 
 ton, and others, who, if not as eminently distin- 
 guished in after-life, were nevertheless worthy. 
 
 Mr. Brantly was already a preacher, and Mr. 
 Murphy and Mr. Gregg were patterns of pure 
 morals and gentlemanly bearing. To these gentle- 
 men I owed the kindest obligations, and it was 
 probably owing, in a great measure, to their influ- 
 ence over me, that my indiscretions this year, what- 
 ever they may have been, partook not of the na- 
 ture of gross immorality. But there was another 
 influence which kept me, without the intervention 
 of means of any kind, from a still more dangerous 
 exposure. This exposure was the prevalence of 
 Deism, against which I carried in myself an evi- 
 dence too strong and conclusive to admit for a 
 moment its half-reasoning unbelief. I had proved 
 Christianity to be true in a way that Deism could 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 61 
 
 not reach ; and as well might it have been under- 
 taken to reason away from me my consciousness of 
 being, as my conviction of its truth. This might 
 be called (as it often was called) superstition, in- 
 fatuation, or what not, but it made no difference to 
 me, my consciousness was still victor, and I gloried 
 in the truth of Christianity. " Gentlemen," I 
 would say, (when pressed to read Tom Paine, or 
 Hume, or any other such author,) " gentlemen, I 
 am as you are ; I am not a Christian, but a sinner ; 
 but sinner as I am, I dare not seek to evade respon- 
 sibility by denying what I know to be truth. I 
 know in myself that I am a sinner, and I know in 
 the same manner that the Bible is the word of God, 
 and Jesus Christ is his Son. Call not him by vile 
 epithets whom I know to be the Son of God as 
 certainly as I know that the light shines or the 
 wind blows. Unbelief may make us worse, but 
 can make us no better." But I was a paradox to 
 myself. Naturally gay and vivacious, I engaged 
 freely in the pastimes of the hours for recreation ; 
 and in company with those of like dispositions 
 seemed as happy as the rest. But behind all this 
 there slumbered a feeling of remorse, which would 
 sometimes be aroused into a loathing of myself, 
 and extreme sadness — a secret wound, hidden from 
 the light of day, which the solitude of night re- 
 vealed as a running sore. Yes, I might be merry 
 in the day, when the night was to be dark with 
 self-reproach. Alas, what is light without love? 
 This was the consciousness which made me argue 
 
62 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 for the Christian faith, while it had no power to 
 make me a Christian. It seemed impossible for 
 me to maintain the watchfulness proper to a serious 
 self-restraint when all was gay about me; and 
 equally so for me to pass the night without calling 
 painfully to mind my sinful wanderings from God. 
 And yet I was restrained from grosser immorali- 
 ties. "Why not more, may be told in a word: I did 
 not pray. Solitude at night shut me up to the con- 
 templation of a scene in which the incidents of the 
 previous summer seemed pencilled before me : how 
 I had had the truth of spiritual religion demon- 
 strated to me ; had been graciously drawn to seek 
 it ; and had (as still it appeared to me) profanely 
 cast it all away. But it was that last spectacle of 
 the scene which held me back as by a spell from 
 prayer, though I would have given any thing to feel 
 myself at liberty to pray. And so fully had this 
 spectral idea got possession of my mind, that I teas 
 shut out from prayer, that I seemed incapable of so 
 much as even to call it in question. 
 
 "You will wonder, perhaps, at my dwelling so 
 long on this unwelcome theme, but I cannot dis- 
 miss it hastily, for I deem it to have been of no 
 little consequence. I mean not that it was benefi- 
 cial for me to have fallen asleep at prayer, nor to 
 have fallen under the tormenting misconceptions 
 of the character of that act, which prevented me 
 from attempting to pray afterwards, and in despair 
 of becoming a Christian induced my return to 
 former associations. And much less do I mean 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 63 
 
 that it was well for me to have gone to the ball 
 that night, and to continue in habits of pleasurable 
 amusement, and to live after the gay and giddy 
 manner that I did, against my conscience, awak- 
 ened as it had been to the discovery of spiritual 
 truth. Nothing of the sort. But I mean that 
 my wretchedness taught me understanding; and 
 although I had not the knowledge which should 
 have inspired courage to pray, I saw an infinite 
 value in the privilege of access to God through the 
 great Mediator ; and by as much as I was hopeless 
 of any good without it, and felt that the pleasures 
 of sin were but apples of Sodom, by so much was 
 I still held to the belief of spiritual truth as demon- 
 strated in my present consciousness no less than in 
 my former better experience. The present com- 
 pared to the past involved a sense of destitution, 
 not only implying a consciousness of want, but 
 that the thing wanted had been possessed. A 
 smoking wick compared to the lighted candle 
 might be its emblem. And the thing wanted was 
 that influence of the all-quickening Spirit which 
 should renew the flame. To be a sinner under 
 condemnation for his sins, but calling upon God in 
 expectation of forgiveness through the blood of 
 the cross, seemed a hopeful and desirable condition 
 in comparison to mine, in which the great pain and 
 plague was that I feared to pray, deeming it pre- 
 sumptuous for me to do so, and therefore not at- 
 tempting it. Such a hag may a mistaken con- 
 science be. 
 
64 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAP EES. 
 
 But why did I not correct my error by the Scrip- 
 tures ? Ah, why did I not ! Why, unhappily, be- 
 cause, having left off to pray, I had left off also the 
 reading of the Scriptures, as not being likely to 
 profit me without prayer; whereas, if I had 
 searched the Scriptures with proper care, it would 
 probably have been blessed both to the correction 
 of my error, and my recovery from this snare of 
 the devil. It was not long before I came to the 
 conclusion that I could not get better as things 
 were ; and that the only hope for me was in some 
 such extraordinary impulse of the Holy Spirit as 
 that which moved me so mightily on the evening 
 after the camp-meeting; which only could assure 
 me that I might pray with acceptance, and, with 
 the encouragement to pray, enable me to live as 
 a Christian ought ; and that until I should be 
 thus favored, if ever, it w T as needless for me to 
 afflict myself for what I could not help ; but that 
 I would keep myself from any thing grossly im- 
 moral, and maintain steadfastly my belief in the 
 truth of Christianity, if haply the needful visita- 
 tion might be afforded me : another hurtful error. 
 With regard to matters of the college, things went 
 with me in the usual way, and I went with them 
 after the same manner. There was nothing worthy 
 of remark. The vacation was spent at home ; 
 (Woodland, on the Hills, in Sumter District ;) and 
 of this also I have little to say. Its incidents were 
 not remarkable. Usually my mornings were occu- 
 pied with some sort of reading, and my evenings 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 65 
 
 with, the ladies ; of whom there were not a few in 
 our neighborhood, nor a few belles among them. 
 Once or twice a week I spent a day with my 
 brother Gabriel at the plantation ; but I was not 
 fond of hunting deer or of fishing ; and a week at a 
 time might be spent on a visit to my excellent 
 brother and sister Guerry, and my much-loved 
 uncle, who still seemed a sort of second father to 
 me. But there was one circumstance which per- 
 haps I should advert to, as it had some influence 
 subsequently on my conduct. My worthy brother- 
 in-law was very sick, and was so for a long time, 
 so that his life was thought to be in danger; and 
 this sickness was made the means of his awaken- 
 ing and conversion. I was much with him to- 
 wards the latter part of the vacation ; and if I 
 could have had any misgivings before as to the 
 truth of a spiritual religion, they must have been 
 dissipated by what I saw in him. I said his sick- 
 ness was the means of his conversion, not meaning 
 that he was already converted in an evangelical 
 sense of that word, but that he was awakened, and 
 it led to his conversion. He conversed freely with 
 me, as I also did with him; and in one of these 
 conversations, speaking of my feelings a year be- 
 fore, he expressed the opinion that if I had joined 
 the Church I would not have suffered the loss 
 which I was then deploring. I had long been 
 of the same opinion, and expressed, in reply to what 
 he said, a settled purpose to do so whenever I 
 should feel again as I had then felt the quickening 
 
66 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 power of the Holy Spirit. I mention this here, 
 as I shall have occasion to advert to it hereafter. 
 
 Notwithstanding this year (1807) was barren of 
 incidents of any note, its. secret history was strongly 
 influential on my future course of life. It began, 
 as the last had closed, with intense agitation : the 
 buoyancy of young life bearing me away with my 
 associates to an extreme of levity by day, and my 
 troubled conscience lashing me as with whips of 
 fire by night. It had passed to its seventh month, 
 with only the change of a sort of compromise with 
 conscience; by which I should allow myself just 
 any thiug that circumstances made convenient, 
 short of gross immorality, and a disbelief of the 
 Scriptures and spiritual religion ; and I was, more- 
 over, to be ever forward to avow and defend the 
 truth of God's word; which last item in the truce 
 with conscience cost me some little trouble. But 
 during the vacation, I was not only withdrawn 
 from the strife of tongues, but also from the 
 excitement of college recreations. My recreations 
 now were of a different sort. Indeed, I took none, 
 and desired none, except the evenings in female 
 society. This was not exciting, but soothing ; not 
 a whirligig of giddy passions, but a refining, 
 elevating entertainment. Such, out of the ball- 
 room, I Jiad always found female society to be ; 
 for, thank God, I never associated with any whom 
 I did not honor as ladies indeed. In a word, then, 
 my mind was becoming more settled — less frivol- 
 ous and less desponding; and though I had no 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 67 
 
 courage to betake myself to prayer or avow a re- 
 ligious life, the hoped-for visitation which should 
 give me confidence began to be looked to not only 
 as desirable but very possible ; and the resolution 
 was fully formed which should make such a visita- 
 tion the occasion of an instant public avowal on my 
 part, by joining the Church. 
 
 In this state of mind my return to college in 
 October was not anticipated with pleasure, but 
 rather as an undesirable necessity. There was an- 
 other consideration also which began to gain some 
 importance with me. My profession was fixed for 
 the law ; and at that time the statute required three 
 years' study with a lawyer, in order to admission at 
 the bar. I was ambitious of attaining to this posi- 
 tion at the earliest allowable age ; and the securing 
 of it would not admit of my continuing in college 
 to the time of graduation. Perhaps it was unfor- 
 tunate for me that, with a sanguine temperament 
 which might incline me to overreach myself in any 
 circumstances, I had grown up rapidly in the 
 last five years, and was already at my full height, 
 five feet eight and a half inches. Nor can I deny 
 that I was ambitious, and that my vanity was at 
 least equal to my understanding. I had frequent 
 conversations with my father as to the propriety 
 of giving up my text-books at college in favor of 
 Blackstone ; in which I undervalued the studies of 
 the senior year, as being mainly a review of the 
 preceding, and was inclined to the opinion that 
 after the middle of my next term, I had better 
 
68 LIFE OF - WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 commence the study of law. My father was re- 
 luctant, and preferred that I should graduate, but 
 waived a decision for the present time. 
 
 I should deem it most unfortunate that I had 
 gotten this kink into my head about leaving col- 
 lege and commencing the study of law, were it 
 not for the state of my mind with respect to 
 religion. In view only of the present life and dis- 
 tinction at the bar, it was a great error ; for so far 
 from its being true that any portion of a college 
 course might be dispensed with -by one seeking a 
 profession, it is to be regretted that this so fre- 
 quent haste of the boys to become men before the 
 time, should find the allowance which it does in 
 the present too brief course of studies, which had 
 better be extended. But in view of the whole case 
 from the present point of time, with the lights of 
 experience to guide me, I believe that this also 
 was of God. My situation in college was, to say 
 the least, very trying, and I felt it to be so. That 
 compromise still appeared to be the best in my 
 power there ; and I was any thing but what I 
 would choose to be in the midst of my associates, 
 not a few of whom mocked at religion as a super- 
 stition, though in other respects they were high- 
 minded, estimable young men. It was a hazardous 
 experiment to be intimate with them in all their 
 pastimes, on the principle of maintaining that 
 one might be as gay and believe the Bible as he 
 could be in the disbelief of it ; and my nature was 
 social, to a fault. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 69 
 
 But tlie vacation over, I returned to college, and 
 resumed my studies with considerable spirit ; which 
 was not diminished by the growing purpose I in- 
 dulged of making that my last term. In other 
 respects, I know not that any thing transpired 
 worthy of remark. 
 
 Early the next year, (1808,) my father having 
 yielded his consent, I took a final leave of the 
 college, and entered myself a student at law in the 
 office of that estimable man and eminent jurist, 
 Mr. John S. Richardson ; afterwards, for a long 
 course of years, a judge of the courts of law of 
 South Carolina. Mr. Richardson's office was in 
 Statesburg; and it was agreed that my studies 
 should be pursued for the most part at home ; only 
 arranging for so much time to be spent in the office 
 as might be deemed desirable from time to time. 
 Woodland was now home, emphatically, as I lived 
 there ; but I was no longer a child. A study was 
 built for me at a pleasant spot, and I set zealously 
 at work to make myself a lawyer. A horse was 
 appropriated to my use, though I seldom rode ex- 
 cept to the office, to church on Sundays, and occa- 
 sionally to spend an evening with the ladies, which 
 I was always fond to do. And now that phantom, 
 the honor that cometh of man only, appeared in 
 glory, as a thing to be worshipped, the chief idol 
 of all, whose service should be honored with a high 
 reward. , "What a mistake ! And how common it 
 is with other ardent young men, who no more sus- 
 pect it than I myself did. Those succeed in the 
 
TO 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 race for distinction who are in love with the means 
 of success — the mastery of their profession ; and 
 not those who, too eager of the goal, have not 
 patience to approach it step by step. I was not, 
 after all, in love with the law, but enamored only 
 of the charms of a fancied glorification to be 
 obtained as a lawyer. The law itself was mere 
 labor — dry, plodding study ; and that I did not love 
 it for its own sake, an anecdote of the early 
 summer will suffice to show. General Sumter had 
 just returned home from Congress, when I was one 
 day surprised by an invitation to dine with him ; 
 with the words written at the bottom of the note, 
 "Xone but gentlemen are invited." Arriving at 
 his mansion, I found the interpretation of these 
 enigmatic words, in the fact that the company con- 
 sisted of some twenty bachelors, of whom I was 
 the youngest. And as soon as the cloth was re- 
 moved, and Mrs. Sumter had withdrawn, the object 
 of this unusual collection of young men to dine 
 with the old veteran was made known in a long 
 address, in which he told us all about our difficul- 
 ties with England; the certainty of a war, and 
 of its being a long one ; the occasion it must fur- 
 nish for glorious deeds and immortal honor ; the 
 great advantages for promotion to those who took 
 office in that first enlistment which Congress had 
 ordered ; and that he was authorized by the Pre- 
 sident to promise commissions to any of us then 
 present ; whose fortunes must be made by accept- 
 ing them. And what had become of my love of 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 71 
 
 the law when Ave rose from that table ? My idol 
 was transferred to another temple, and not as a 
 lawyer, but a chivalrous soldier, rising rapidly to 
 eminence and fame, was I to seek my destiny. 
 But how were my young wings clipped, and my 
 fancied certainty of a noble elevation by deeds to 
 deserve it brought to the ground ! My father 
 would not hear to it; and when I expressed sur- 
 prise, and alluded to his own services in the Re- 
 volutionary war as justifying the step I proposed, 
 he really seemed almost angry. " What !" said he, 
 " did I ever fight for myself? Was it not for the 
 liberties of my country ? But you would fight for 
 pay, and to make yourself a name. Our liberties 
 are not in danger ; and the government is strong 
 enough, to take care of itself." And so I had 
 to smooth down my feathers, and return to Black- 
 stone. 
 
 Early in July of this year (1808) there was another 
 camp-meeting in Rembert's settlement. But I did 
 not attend it, having an engagement of business 
 for my father in Georgetown at the time of its 
 being held. My brother-in-law, Major Guerry, and 
 my sister attended it, and with the happiest conse- 
 quences. I have mentioned his illness the previous 
 autumn, and that it had been blessed to the awaken- 
 ing of both of them to a deep concern for their 
 salvation. They had now joined the Church, and 
 at this camp-meeting were converted. On my re- 
 turn home it affected me to hear it; and I was 
 meditating a visit to them, when they came to see 
 
72 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 us. I used to -admire my brother-in-law for a bear- 
 ing of personal dignity which, distinguished him 
 above other well-bred men of my acquaintance, 
 and which, together with his being a very large 
 man, rendered his presence peculiarly imposing. 
 He was unexceptionably kind and amiable, but his 
 look would inspire reverence more than love ; it 
 was rather austere than gentle. So I had been 
 accustomed to see him. But there now stood 
 before me that same noble form, with a countenance 
 as soft as love itself, and a bearing that might seem 
 the very expression of meekness. Several times 
 during the afternoon and early evening I saw a tear 
 in the eye which I had not thought capable of a 
 tear, and a suffusion on the cheek which might not 
 have been suspected of any thing so tender. As 
 to my sister, her dear bright eyes would laugh in 
 tears, and she seemed the happiest of mortals. 
 And for myself, I had in me the interpretation of 
 it all. Here was the religion of the Spirit of grace, 
 which I had contemplated before in faces as truth- 
 ful, but not so dear to me as those of the present 
 witnesses. How poor might the world be to pur- 
 chase it ! "What should the world be to mortal 
 man in comparison to it ? This it was which more 
 than twenty months before I had been so earnestly 
 seeking, the consciousness of which had preserved 
 me since from Deism ; but which, whether or not I 
 might ever hope to obtain it, was, alas, how fear- 
 fully uncertain ! 
 
 It grew night; supper was over; it was warm, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 73 
 
 and we were sitting in a piazza open to the south- 
 west breeze which fans our summer evenings. My 
 sister was singing with a soft, clear voice some of 
 the songs of the camp-meeting ; and as she paused, 
 my father touched my shoulder with his hand and 
 slowly walked away. I followed him till he had 
 reached the farthest end of the piazza on another 
 side of the house, when turning to me he expressed 
 himself in a few brief words, to the effect that he 
 felt himself to have been for a long time in a back- 
 slidden state, and that he must forthwith acknow- 
 ledge the grace of God in his children, or perish. 
 His words were few, but they were enough, and 
 strong enough. I sank to my knees and burst into- 
 tears at the utterance of them, while for a moment 
 he stood trembling by me, and then bade me get 
 the books. The Bible was put on the table ; the 
 family came together; he read the 103d Psalm, 
 and then he kneeled down and prayed as if he felt 
 indeed that life or death, heaven or hell, depended 
 on the issue. That was the hour of grace and 
 mercy — grace restored to my father as in times of 
 my infancy, and mercy to me in breaking the snare 
 of the fowler that my soul might escape. That 
 most truly solemn and overwhelming service of the 
 family over, I took occasion to remind my brother- 
 in-law of our conversation the year before, when I 
 had expressed a purpose of joining the Church 
 without delay if ever I should be favored to feel 
 again as I had formerly felt. This great visitation 
 I was now conscious had been granted me, and I 
 4 
 
74 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 wished under the influence of it to bind myself to 
 the fulfilment of that purpose, which I promised to 
 do the next time the circuit-preacher came to Rem- 
 bert's meeting-house. 
 
 I did not consider my feelings on this occasion ; 
 to imply conversion, any more than those of the 
 night after the camp-meeting in 1806. My faith 
 embraced not so much. But I knew them to be 
 from God, as I had known it on that former occa- 
 sion, and this alone was half a world to me. I 
 went to bed, and bowed my knees to the God and 
 Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, with a heart suf- 
 fused with adoring gratitude. The next morning, 
 as I awoke calm and refreshed from sleep, it was 
 suggested to my mind that I may have been hasty 
 in the promise I had made. What if I should not 
 find those strong emotions under which I made it 
 renewed again ? What if possibly all that had 
 transpired should prove to be a mere matter of 
 sympathy, and not of God at all ? I trembled at 
 the bare suggestion, but a moment on my knees 
 taught me whence it came, and reassured my con- 
 fidence. God had visited me indeed. The flinty 
 rock had been smitten, and gave forth water ; and 
 I, even I, had access to a throne of mercy for the 
 Redeemer's sake. Blackstone was laid aside, and 
 the Bible became again my one book. And now 
 I longed with intense desire for the time to arrive 
 when, by joining the Church, I should formally 
 break with the world, and identify myself with 
 those who, (at least then, and in that part of the 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 75 
 
 country,) for being the most spiritual and least world- 
 ly, were regarded the most enthusiastic and least 
 rational of all the sects of Christians. My great want 
 was to know God as they knew him, in the for- 
 giveness of sins, and to serve him as they served him, 
 not as servants only, but as sons, having the spirit 
 of adoption, crying, Abba, Father. (Rom. viii. 15.) 
 
 It was one of the Sabbath clays between the first 
 and middle of the month of August that this 
 event of my joining the Methodist Church took 
 place. And to show the unqualified simplicity and 
 hearty confidence with which it was done, I will 
 give an anecdote, which, of itself, should not seem 
 worth relating : The meeting over, I accompanied 
 my brother-in-law and sister to the house of an old 
 Methodist gentleman, (a very prototype of true 
 Christian simplicity,) with whom they were to dine 
 on their way home. I was dressed with more than 
 usual care : my clothes in the point of the fashion, 
 with a deep frill of linen cambric and a full-sized 
 breastpin at my bosom; (bad taste certainly, for 
 one's dress should be agreeable to one's company.) 
 And as we sat at table, my old friend said to me : 
 "Well, you have joined the Methodists, and now 
 you must lay aside your breastpin and ruffles. 99 
 66 Why should I, sir?" I asked; and he only 
 answered, "If you don't pull them off*, you must 
 button your waistcoat over them and hide them ; 
 you mustn't let the preacher see them." And there 
 ended the colloquy. But it was food for thought. 
 "Hide them!" He said that evasively; he did not 
 
76 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 mean for me to hide them, but that I should take 
 them off. But for what possible reason should I 
 take them off? And I could think of none. I 
 had heard of none, and was profoundly puzzled. 
 Still there must be some reason for it ; and what 
 could it be ? Why, the reason he had told me. I 
 had joined the Methodists, and that was the reason. 
 The Methodists did not wear superfluous orna- 
 ments, did they ? And I could not call to mind 
 one of them who did. "Well then, thought I, the 
 question is settled. When did I ever change the 
 fashion of my dress for any better reason than that 
 the fashion had changed, and I must be in the 
 fashion ? Henceforth the Methodist fashion shall 
 be mine ; and done as I am with the world, I will 
 follow the lead of this godly people in every thing. 
 Arrived at my brother-in-law's, my first act was to 
 rip off the frill from my bosom, which my sister 
 kept, as a memorial of those simple-hearted times, 
 for many years. 
 
 That day I consider the most eventful of my life — 
 the pivot of the rest. In the evening, that most 
 godly man and best of ministers, the Rev. William 
 Gassaway, favored uswith his company, and passed 
 the night, (having an appointment for the next day 
 at Clark's meeting-house, a few miles below my 
 brother-in-law's residence, which we purposed at- 
 tending;) and fresh to my heart is the remembrance 
 of that evening. After considerable conversation 
 and prayer, with myself alone in his chamber, he 
 proposed to me to meet him at Camden, some three 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 77 
 
 weeks to come, and accompany him around on his 
 circuit. Brother Kennedy, his junior colleague, 
 would be with him for part of the round, and he 
 thought I would find it both pleasant and profita- 
 ble. I thought so too, and gladly accepted his pro- 
 posal if my father should have no objection to it. 
 The meeting the next day was one to be remem- 
 bered ; and what with that, the godly counsel of my 
 reverend friend, and the cheering influence of the 
 joyful faith of my brother and sister, I felt con- 
 firmed in every pious resolution. 
 
 At the time, which I had been eagerly anticipat- 
 ing, I was in Camden ; and soon found that there 
 was much more in my being there than I had 
 dreamed of. "What was it, to my apprehension, 
 more than a mere journey, which I was to make 
 with my reverend friend, for the benefit of his 
 guidance in seeking the grace of God, and that I 
 might attend the meetings daily ? And not know- 
 ing any one in Camden, nor where Mr. Gassaway 
 might lodge ; nor even thinking that if I did know, 
 it might be proper for me to obtrude myself on 
 strangers, I had stopped at the door of a house of 
 entertainment, and was just alighting from my 
 horse, when our venerated patriarch of Rembert's 
 church, and Rembert's settlement, passing by, ar- 
 rested me with, " You mustn't stop here. Haven't 
 you come to ride with brother Gassaway ? Go with 
 me to brother Smith's." (It was that brother 
 Smith whose praise was in all the churches, and 
 whose memory is still precious, as one of the purest 
 
78 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 and best of Methodist preachers ; who many years 
 before had married a relation of father Kembert's, 
 and was now located in Camden.) And right will- 
 ingly I went; not understanding, however, why 
 riding with brother Gassaway should confer on me 
 such consequence, nor dreaming of any technical 
 meaning which "riding" with him might have. But 
 how great was my amazement at the hour of family 
 prayer that night, when the books were handed me 
 by brother Smith, and I was asked to have prayers 
 for them. Could it be right ? And could I possibly 
 perform it ? But it struck me that I was not a judge. ' 
 If it seemed wrong for me to offer prayers for those 
 w r ho were so much wiser and better than myself, 
 that could not make it right for me to seem to know 
 better than they by refusing to do it. So I took the 
 books ; though the extreme agitation I was under 
 scarcely admitted of reading, and much less pray- 
 ing. The sanctuary, next day, was refreshing to 
 me, as morning, afternoon and evening I heard the 
 gospel which I believed. Monday was spent by my 
 excellent friends Gassaway and Kennedy in visiting 
 their flock. They took me with them, and called 
 on me several times to pray ; which I did with no 
 little perturbation, doubting its propriety. But the 
 next day (September 12) taxed my simple submis- 
 siveness still more severely. We left Camden for 
 the country appointments, which began this day at 
 a meeting-house in the pine-woods toward Lynche's 
 creek, then called Smith's, (afterwards Marshall's,) 
 among a very poor people. Brother Kennedy 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 79 
 
 preached ; while I was seated against the wall of 
 the house remote from the pulpit, (not knowing yet 
 the meaning of the phrase "riding with brother 
 Gassaway," nor dreaming that it had the least con- 
 nection with any thing official on my part ;) and the 
 sermon over, he beckoned me to the pulpit. It w r as 
 a sort of coarse box open at one end, and elevated 
 a single step above the rest of the floor. Brother 
 Gassaw r ay was sitting in it, and reaching out his 
 hand as I advanced, said to me, " Exhort." He said 
 no more, but, as I seemed to hesitate, repeated the 
 same word "Exhort" with a slight movement of his 
 hand, as if to induce me to come into the pulpit, 
 the bench of which was sufficiently taken up with 
 himself and his colleague. It w r as probably the first 
 time I had heard the word ; and certainly the first 
 of my hearing it as a technical word. "Exhort?" 
 thought I. That is from " exoro" or "exhortor;" 
 but what am I to make of it? "What would he have 
 me do? "Exhort," repeated my reverend friend, 
 unconscious of using a hard word which might not 
 be understood. And at the second or third repeti- 
 tion of the word, with only the interpretation of a 
 slight pull of my hand, which he was holding, I 
 hit on his meaning, and stepping into the box be- 
 gan to exhort, if I may call it so. The word served 
 me for a text — " earnestly to beseech," "to prevail 
 by entreaty;" and so I made an effort to beseech 
 the people to believe and do as they had been 
 taught by the preacher. But that afternoon and 
 evening I was sorely troubled on this account. My 
 
80 LITE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 reverence for holy things was offended at my un- 
 worthiness to such a degree that it seemed impos- 
 sible for me to be reconciled to myself. True, I 
 was not capable of judging for myself in such mat- 
 ters, and had acted by the direction of my spiritual 
 guides, whose competency I could not question; 
 but then they did not know me as I knew myself, 
 * and might be misled by excess of charity. " 0, 
 brother Gassaw^ay," said I, "I am in a wilderness. 
 Every thing is dark about me, and I know not what 
 to do. Surely I ought not to keep on with you, 
 and to go back from you I am afraid.'' "Well, my 
 son," said the dear old gentleman, " God has brought 
 you thus far; lean not to your own understanding, 
 but be humble still, and he will guide you through." 
 To brother Kennedy, whose comparative youth 
 made him more familiar, (or at least made me more 
 familiar with him,) I expressed myself more at 
 length. I was not a preacher ; never to be a preach- 
 er ; never could be made a preacher; and how could 
 it be right for me to stand 'up in a pulpit, or any- 
 where else, to exhort? That I was not a preacher 
 vras certain ; but he held that my exhorting did 
 not imply that I was one, nor even that I was to 
 become one. Every Christian man, and every one 
 seeking with an awakened conscience to become a 
 Christian, was at liberty to recommend religion to 
 others, and ought in duty to do so ; and my ex- 
 hortation was no more than the doing of this in a 
 formal manner. 
 
 The next day, at the house of an old gentleman 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 81 
 
 by the name of Parrish, on Lynche's creek, I was 
 again told to exhort ; and again the day following 
 at a meeting-house called Lizzenby's; and on both 
 these occasions I attempted to comply with the re- 
 quisition. On Friday, Saturday, and Sunday we 
 attended a Quarterly Meeting, which was conducted 
 as a camp-meeting, at Knight's meeting-house, on 
 Fork creek. ".Work for life, as well as from life,'' 
 was now the word ; and while I had no need of 
 teaching as to the worthlessness of works of any 
 kind for the procurement of grace meritoriously, I 
 was taught to look for the witness of adoption in 
 denying my will, and taking up my cross as a means 
 which God might bless. And it was not in the 
 stand (pulpit) only, nor at stated hours, but wherever 
 and as often as occasion served I was exhorting. At 
 this meeting I found that unspeakable blessing 
 which I had been so earnestly seeking, " the Spirit 
 of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father;" the 
 Spirit itself bearing witness with my spirit that I 
 was a child of God. A love-feast was held on Sun- 
 day morning at 9 o'clock. I had never attended 
 one, and happened never to have made any inqui- 
 ries about them; so that going into this one I knew 
 not how it was to be conducted, nor of what the 
 service should consist. I first found myself strongly 
 affected on seeing one and another refused ad- 
 mission by the preacher at the door ; a vivid repre- 
 sentation being made to my mind of the character 
 of the meeting, in which, as I supposed, none but 
 approved persons could be present, and others were 
 4* 
 
82 
 
 LIFE 0 F "WILLI A M C A P E R S 
 
 rejected. At first I felt as if I too had no right to 
 be there. It was a meeting for Christians only, 
 and without the witness of adoption I could not 
 claim that title. Was it partiality, or lack of infor- 
 mation, which had let me in while others were ex- 
 cluded? I might not hope to he admitted into 
 heaven thus, for God himself would he the Judge. 
 And what should it avail me to he. in the Church, 
 and gathered in communion with its members in 
 holy services, if at last the door of heaven should 
 be shut against me ? But I was not suffered to pur- 
 sue this train of thought : hut my mind was sud- 
 denly and intensely taken up with an opposite one. 
 Was there any thing lacking to me which Christ 
 could not give ? Had he not bought me with the 
 price of his own blood, which Lad pledged his will- 
 ingness with his power to save ? And why was I 
 so long without the witness of adoption, except only 
 for my unbelief? Faith that should trust him to 
 bestow his grace, would honor him more than the 
 unbelief that doubted of his doing so much. All 
 this and much more was presented to my mind in 
 an instant, and I felt an indescribable yearning after 
 faith. Yes, I felt much more ': there came with it 
 such a prevailing apprehension (or should I not call 
 it manifestation ?) of Christ as a present Saviour, my 
 present Saviour, that to believe seemed to imply no 
 effort. I could not but believe. I saw it. as it were, 
 and I felt it, and knew it. that Christ was mine, 
 that I had received of the Spirit through him, and 
 was become a child of God. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 83 
 
 This gracious change was attended with new 
 views as to my calling in life. I could no longer 
 say, nor think, that I was never to be a preacher ; 
 but, on the contrary, it appeared to me, and the 
 conviction grew stronger and stronger, that I was 
 called to preach. The round on the circuit was 
 made without any more such feelings as those I 
 had complained of at the beginning of it; while 
 I was daily concluding meetings for brother Gassa- 
 way, and generally with exhortation. At the close 
 of the round I returned home for a week, while he 
 was visiting his family. My father was satisfied 
 that I should follow the course which I now thought 
 my duty ; the study of law was abandoned, and my 
 law-books returned ; and it was fully arranged for 
 me to continue with brother Gassaway as long as 
 he thought proper, or shoukhremain on that circuit. 
 I was now " riding" with him in earnest; exhorting 
 almost as often as he preached, and employing the 
 time at my command between services in studying 
 the Scriptures. But I might not get on thus smoothly 
 without molestation. I think it was during my 
 second round that I began to be worried with the 
 lameness of my exhortations ; which appeared to 
 me insufferably weak; and took up an idea that to 
 make a preacher at all, I must pursue a different 
 course from the one I was engaged in. "What ap- 
 peared to me desirable, and even necessary for my 
 success, was a regular course of divinity studies, 
 which I should pursue without interruption for 
 several years, till I had acquired a sufficient fund 
 
84 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 of knowledge for preaching. The brief methodistic 
 course of brother Gassaway was, to study and preach, 
 and preach and study, from day to day. It was 
 several weeks before I could be brought to acquiesce 
 in his opinion ; and for most of that time, so clearly 
 reasonable and proper did it appear to me to desist 
 from all public exercises till I should have qualified 
 myself to perform them in a manner worthy of the 
 sacred office, and it was a point so closely concern- 
 ing conscience, that I must have caused my excel- 
 lent friend some uneasiness. However, his patient 
 spirit was sufficient to the trial, and most kindly 
 and affectionately did he still argue on. One point 
 which he made, and a capital one, I thought he 
 carried against me. I had supposed two years to 
 be necessary for the study of divinity before I 
 should exercise at all in public ; and that the quali- 
 fication gained for more effective service in future 
 by these two years of close study, would more than 
 compensate for the loss of time from such imperfect 
 efforts as I might essay in the mean time on his 
 plan of studying and preaching, and preaching and 
 studying. And the point he made was, as to the 
 qualification to be gained for future usefulness at 
 the lapse of two or more years, by the one course 
 or by the other; holding it probable that a student 
 on his plan would become a better preacher at the 
 end of a term of years than he would on mine. 
 He admitted that on my plan he might learn more 
 theology, and be able to compose a better thesis, 
 but insisted he would not make a better preacher. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 85 
 
 In this argument he insisted much on the practical 
 character, of preaching: that to reach its end, it 
 must be more than a well-composed sermon, or an 
 eloquent discourse, or able dissertation. It must 
 have to do with men as a shot at a mark; in which 
 not only the ammunition should be good, but the 
 aim true. The preacher must be familiar with man 
 to reach him with effect. And the force of preach- 
 ing must largely depend, under the blessing of God, 
 on the naturalness and truthfulness of the preach- 
 er's postulates; arguing to the sinner from what he 
 knows of him, the necessities of his condition, 
 appealing to his conscience, and recommending the 
 grace of God. But he quite overcame me with this 
 final remark. It was as we were riding along that 
 dreary sand-hill road in Chesterfield District leading 
 from the Court-house toward Sumterville, and I 
 seemed more than usually earnest in my objections, 
 that, after quite a speech on my side of the question, 
 he thus answered me : " Well, Billy, it is only sup- 
 position, after all. And if you are called to preach, 
 and sinners are daily falling into hell, take care lest 
 the blood of some of them be found on your skirts.'' 
 Sure enough, it was only " supposition." The true 
 question was as to usefulness, not eminence ; and 
 with respect to that matter, at least, I could only 
 suppose, and could not certainly know, that it might 
 be better for me to desist from my present course and 
 adopt another. Here then ended that difficulty 
 about the exclusive study of divinity. I instantly 
 
86 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 gave it up, and thanked my friend for his pains and 
 patience with me. 
 
 The Santee Circuit at that time extended from 
 a meeting-house called Ganey's, some four miles 
 above Chesterfield, which was its highest appoint- 
 ment, to Tawcaw, near Santee river, which w^as its 
 lowest. And it was on this my second round 
 with brother Gassaway, (October, 1808,) that we^ 
 attended a camp-meeting at Tawcaw; where it 
 pleased God to give me the encouragement of 
 making my very imperfect exhortations instrumen- 
 tal of good among the people. In particular, that 
 estimable and engaging young man, Joseph Gallu- 
 chat, afterward for many years so well known and 
 much beloved in Charleston for his abilities and 
 spotless character as a preacher, acknowledged so 
 humble an instrumentality as this, the means of his 
 awakening and conversion. And this circum- 
 stance tended no little to confirm me in the pur- 
 pose I had formed, (I trusted, under the influence 
 of the Holy Spirit,) to devote myself to the work 
 of preaching the gospel of Christ. 
 
 During my third and last round of riding with 
 brother Gassaway, and as late in the season as 
 past the middle of November, a camp-meeting was 
 held at Eembert's ; (the second one at the same 
 place that year.) And this being also the occasion 
 of the last Quarterly Meeting for the circuit, at 
 the advice of brother Gassaway, (Bishop Asbury 
 also approving,) I was licensed to preach, and was 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 87 
 
 recommended to tlie Annual Conference to be ad- 
 mitted on trial in the itinerancy. This was done, 
 first the license and then the recommendation, on 
 the 25th of November, 1808. A camp-meeting was 
 held at so late a period in the season because the 
 people were in the spirit of it; and for the special 
 reason that the Bishops, Asbury and McKendree, 
 had appointed to meet on official business, which 
 would occupy them several clays, at that time, at 
 the house of their old friend, (the Gaius of those 
 days,) James Rembert, immediately in the neigh- 
 borhood, and they would attend the meeting. The 
 weather was very cold, colder than November 
 usually is ; but the camp-meeting was one of the 
 best I have ever known. Different from those of 
 former years as to the preparations made for per- 
 sonal comfort, a large area of several acres was 
 enclosed with lines of well-built tents furnished 
 with fire-places; so that the cold, though incon- 
 venient, did us no harm. At this meeting it was 
 arranged that I should continue on the circuit till 
 after the Annual Conference, which the preachers 
 were shortly to attend. Brother Gassaway had 
 already concluded his work, and I was to keep up 
 a round of appointments in his place. But I can- 
 not quite so briefly dismiss the meeting at which 
 my brothers Gabriel and John were brought to the 
 knowledge of God, and I first saw Bishop Asbury, 
 and witnessed his first meeting with my father 
 since the former days when he used to find a he,,, 
 with him at Bull-Head. 
 
88 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 But let me here drop the thread of my narrative, 
 for a few sentences, to connect this meeting with 
 Bishop Asbury with those former days when my 
 father's house was one of his favorite homes. It 
 may serve a purpose later in my story, when I 
 shall have occasion to mention his regard for me ; 
 which I would by no means have you appropriate 
 to my own separate merits. I have already men- 
 tioned the fact that my father was one of the first 
 race of Methodists in South Carolina, and a de- 
 cided and influential one ; and intimated, farther 
 on, that he had declined from his spirituality some 
 time after his removal to Georgetown District ; and 
 that it was not till the present year (1808) that he 
 recovered it. You will remember that on Dr. 
 Coke's visit to America in 1791, he was accom- 
 panied from the "West Indies to Charleston by Mr. 
 William Hammett, who remained there on account 
 of his health ; and that this Mr. Hammett, choos- 
 ing to remain for life in Charleston, found some 
 occasion to object to Mr. Asbury and the American 
 preachers, as if they had done him a wrong on ac- 
 count of his devotion to Mr. Wesley ; Mr. Asbury 
 being (as he represented) ambitious of supplant- 
 ing Mr. Wesley w T ith the American people. What 
 I shall say of it is derived from my father, and a 
 parcel of letters between Mr. Hammett and Mr. 
 W r esley — which came into my possession from a 
 son of Mr. Hammett, as a token of his regard. I 
 set it down succinctly from these authorities. Mr. 
 Hammett' s representation to Mr. Wesley by letter 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 89 
 
 was fully and strongly to the above effect; and 
 Mr. "Wesley's answers to Mr. Hammett showed that 
 he believed it. Similar representations made by 
 Mr. Hammett at the same time to the principal 
 Methodist gentlemen in Charleston and the Par- 
 ishes, were thus confirmed by Mr. "Wesley's letters; 
 from which it might appear that since the Re- 
 volutionary war, which carried Mr. Rankin back 
 to England, Mr. Wesley had had no such con- 
 fidential son in America as he deemed Mr. Ham- 
 mett to be. Those letters were to the date of the 
 year 1791, in which Mr. Wesley died. Mr. Ham- 
 mett therefore had the confidence of Mr. Wesley 
 (by what means does not appear) to the last of his 
 life ; and on that foundation he raised his society 
 of Primitive Methodists, both in Charleston and 
 Georgetown. And when we consider that there 
 were then no Methodist books published in Ame- 
 rica, and the people knew little of Methodism, or 
 of the action of the Conferences, but what they got 
 verbally from the preachers ; and that Mr. Ham- 
 mett had been introduced by Dr. Coke as one of 
 the most godly as well as the most gifted of the 
 preachers, the wonder is not that he should have 
 drawn off to himself, under a banner inscribed 
 " Wesley against Asbury," some of the most influ- 
 ential of the people, but we might wonder rather 
 that he did not seduce them all ; and the more, as 
 he was unquestionably an eloquent and able man, 
 of fine person and engaging manners, and at first 
 vastly popular. But his work did not prosper. 
 
90 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 He had estranged his adherents, of whom my 
 father was one, from the rest of the Methodists, 
 whom they called, "the Asbury Methodists," for 
 no good result either to himself or them. But to 
 return. 
 
 I was introduced to Bishop Asbury immediately 
 on his first coming to the camp-meeting, as I hap- 
 pened to be in the preachers' tent at the time of 
 his arrival. I approached him timidly, you may be 
 sure, and with a feeling of profound veneration ; 
 but "Ah," said he, "this is the baby; come and 
 let me hug you:" meaning that I was the baby 
 when he was last at my father's house. On my 
 father's entering the tent, he rose hastily from his 
 seat and met him with his arms extended, and they 
 embraced each other with mutual emotion. It had 
 been some .seventeen years since they had seen 
 each other; and yet the Bishop asked after Sally 
 and Gabriel, as if it had been but a few months, 
 and repeated gleefully, "I have got the baby!" 
 It was evident that no common friendship had sub- 
 sisted between them ; and how much happier had 
 those years of estrangement been to my honored 
 father if they had been passed in the fellowship 
 which he had been seduced to leave ! I hate schism, 
 I abhor it as the very track and trail of him who 
 " as a roaring lion walketh about seeking whom he 
 may devour." 
 
 The camp-meeting over, I betook myself to the 
 circuit, as had been agreed upon ; not with the 
 fatherly sympathies and wise and godly counsels 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 91 
 
 of my friend G-assaway to sustain me, but to act 
 alone; and that not as an extorter only, but as a 
 preacher, filling daily appointments to preach. To 
 say that I felt incompetent, would not express a 
 moiety of my self-distrust. It was an incom- 
 petency in which a lack of every qualification ex- 
 cept a sense of duty and a desire to fulfil it seemed 
 to be present. But the good people of the circuit 
 were kind and affectionate, so that I was not per- 
 mitted to know if ever they considered me less 
 than acceptable. A few days only at home after 
 this round on Santee Circuit, and I got intelligence 
 of my appointment for the ensuing year, from Con- 
 ference. That Conference had been held at Liberty 
 Chapel, in Greene county, Georgia, the 26th of 
 December, 1808 ; and was attended by both of the 
 Bishops, Asbury and McKendree. I heard sub- 
 sequently that my admission had been objected to 
 by several of the preachers, on the ground that not 
 having yet been six months on trial, and by con- 
 sequence not in full connection with the member- 
 ship of the Church, I was ineligible ; but that the 
 objection was overruled by the Bishops; Bishop 
 Asbury deciding that in the absence of any express 
 prohibition, though the inference by analogy was 
 against it, the Conference was free to act, and 
 admit me, if they deemed it proper, on the merits 
 of the case. I have known so many mistakes 
 about episcopal decisions, (and when, too, the 
 reporters seemed very positive,) that I will not un- 
 dertake to say that the reasons of the decision in 
 
92 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 tins case were as I was told they were. But it is 
 certainly and exactly true beyond doubt or dispute, 
 that the objection above stated was made and 
 urged earnestly, particularly by my venerable 
 friend, then in his prime, Lewis Myers ; and that 
 the Bishops (or Bishop Asbury, Bishop McKendree 
 being present and not dissenting) did decide against 
 it ; and that I was then admitted, when I had been 
 but about five months on trial as a member of the 
 Church. And it is equally true that the Bishop 
 was not complained of for his decision ; and that 
 no subsequent General Conference deemed it pro- 
 per to take any exception to his administration, 
 nor provide against the like in future, as I have 
 known done in a recent case. 
 
 I was appointed to the Wateree Circuit, which at 
 that time extended from Twenty-five-mile creek, on 
 the west side of the Wateree river, to Lann's Ford 
 on the Catawba; and on the east side, from the 
 neighborhood of Camden to within twelve miles 
 of Charlotte. Within this broad range there were 
 twenty-four preaching-places, and the time of a 
 round was four weeks, the distance about three 
 hundred miles, the membership of the circuit four 
 hundred and ninety-eight whites and one hundred 
 and twenty-four colored. And yet I was alone, the 
 scarcity of preachers not allowing me a colleague. 
 If I felt my insufficiency on the round which I 
 had just concluded in Santee Circuit, where no- 
 thing more was required but to preach and meet 
 the classes, how much more now, when, with so 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 93 
 
 wide a field before me, and so numerous a mem- 
 bership to serve, the whole pastoral care devolved 
 on me without a helper. I had not dreamed that 
 one so young as I was might be put in charge at 
 all. But so it was. Nevertheless, I had not done 
 it; and should only have to answer for the manner 
 in which my duties might be performed. Thus 
 with fear and trembling, but not without the cour- 
 age which a sense of duty and an upright purpose 
 inspires, I set out to my circuit. I was in time for 
 the first appointment on the plan, at Sawney's 
 creek meeting-house, January 7, 1809. Here lived 
 that most remarkable man, J. J., whose goodness 
 no one ever doubted, but whose zeal was always 
 brandishing in the temple a scourge of not very 
 small cords, as if for fear that some one might be 
 present who did not love the temple well enough 
 to take a scourging for it, and who ought therefore to 
 be driven out ; and in full faith that the more men 
 were beaten the better for them, as it would make 
 them more humble and less worldly-minded. His 
 was the first house I entered in my new field of 
 labor ; and, if I might have been driven off by the 
 first discouragement, he might have made my first 
 my last appearance in that quarter. I seemed 
 to be younger, greener, and a poorer prospect for a 
 preacher in his estimate than even in my own ; 
 and he was an old preacher, and withal a famous 
 one. That first introduction to the responsiblities 
 of my new charge was after this sort : 
 
D4 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GAP EES. 
 
 "Well, have they sent you to us for our 
 preacher ?" 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "What, you, and the egg-shell not dropped off of 
 you yet ! Lord, have mercy upon us ! And who 
 have they sent in charge ?" 
 
 "No one, sir, but myself." 
 
 "What! you, by yourself? You in charge of the 
 circuit ? Why, what is to become of the circuit ? 
 The Bishop had just as well have sent nobody. 
 What can you do in charge of the circuit?" 
 
 "Very poorly, I fear, sir, but I dare say the 
 Bishop thought that you would advise me about 
 the Discipline, and I am sure he could not have 
 sent one who would follow your advice more will- 
 ingly, brother J., than I will." 
 
 " So, so. I suppose then I am to take charge of 
 the circuit for you, and you are just to do what I 
 tell you?" 
 
 "I would be very glad, sir, to have you take the 
 charge of the circuit." 
 
 "Did ever! What, I, a local preacher, take 
 charge of the circuit ? And is that what you have 
 come here for? Why, man, you know nothing 
 about your business. How can I take charge of 
 the circuit? No, no ; but I can see that you do it, 
 such a charge as it will be ; and if I don't, nobody 
 else will, for these days the Discipline goes for 
 nothing." And he groaned deeply. 
 
 Such was the colloquy as well as I can rehearse 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 95 
 
 it; and you may be sure it made an impression 
 deep enough, to remain with me. 
 
 But how could I endure all this ? In the first place, 
 I recognized my censor as one of the fathers of the 
 Church, whose character I had heard of as alike 
 remarkable for goodness and severity ; a holy man, 
 and zealous above his fellows, who always carried 
 a rod as well as a staff; and deeply feeling, as I 
 did, the evil which oppressed him, I was prepared 
 to attribute his severity to its proper cause, and not 
 to any personal unkindness. And then there sat 
 before me his saintly wife ; one of the meekest, 
 gentlest, and best of her sex, whom, at first sight, 
 I had taken for a mother ; and if sister J. would 
 love me, my old brother might talk on. I knew 
 that there was cause of trouble to his spirit in the 
 unprovided state of the circuit, and thought that he 
 was only venting his troubled feelings, without 
 meaning me any wrong. And this very con- 
 versation served to tell me that my motherly sister 
 did love me. I saw it in every muscle of her face, 
 while her sympathies were stirred too intensely for 
 .concealment. Ah, thought I, woman for ever! 
 You may be no better than your husband, but you 
 are incomparably more lovely. 
 
 The next day I was to preach ; and I felt some- 
 what hopefuf at night, on perceiving that he was 
 not disposed to renew his severities, and that, with 
 all his austerity, he was evidently pleased with the 
 interest which his wife took in me, even making a 
 suggestion to her occasionally, which seemed to 
 
96 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 mean that she might use her balsam freely/ But 
 his remarks were ill-judged, and did me harm. As 
 for the matter of personal offence, it was nothing. 
 I took no offence at it. But after I had left his 
 house, and was gone on my work, that lashing, 
 scorching colloquy would recur, as if a prophet had 
 told me from the Lord that I was out of my place 
 on that circuit. 
 
 My second appointment, after leaving brother 
 J.'s, brought me to a place called Granny's Quarter, 
 (the name of a creek some twelve miles above 
 Camden,) of which I give another sort of anecdote : 
 My mind was intensely occupied with the study of 
 the Discipline, particularly the section on the 
 duties of preachers who have the charge of circuits. 
 And it happened that the eighth item of the answer 
 to question two of that section, which made it my 
 duty 64 to recommend everywhere decency and 
 cleanliness," had arrested my attention. It was 
 Discipline, and must be obeyed ; but how extreme- 
 ly delicate, thought I, must the duty sometimes be ! 
 But there was a case just at hand. The house at 
 which I stopped was exceeding dirty, so that clean- 
 liness was out of the question, and even decency 
 put to the blush. But it was the house of a brother 
 and sister. Cleanliness was next to godliness ; the 
 Discipline required of Methodists to be cleanly, and 
 of me to recommend it everywhere. If I neglected 
 my duty under the Discipline, the people might 
 neglect theirs ; and if this particular one, then any 
 other as they liked. The case was clear ; my duty 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 97 
 
 plain ; but liow to go to work in such a matter was 
 the question. Something must be done, and that 
 directly to the point. I must recommend cleanli- 
 ness to the sisterly housekeeper, or neglect my duty 
 and seem to wink at her uncleanliness. Plow was 
 I to do it ? This question was uppermost in my 
 mind all the evening ; but to no purpose, for not a 
 word could I find to say. The next morning my 
 thoughts were still on my new and difficult task, 
 how to recommend cleanliness to my sister so as to 
 induce her to keep her house clean ; and still it 
 seemed a thing past my accomplishment. Break- 
 fast was brought in, and no expedient could I think 
 of, till, turning up my plate, which was of pewter, 
 and observing the color of it to be of that dingy 
 cast which it contracts from being used without 
 rubbing, I began pretty much as follows : 
 
 " Where did you get your plates, sister? They 
 are excellent for use at a distance from town, where 
 the breakage of crockery is often inconvenient, 
 and I wonder that I don't meet with such oftener." 
 
 " Got them at Mr. 's, in Camden. They 
 
 are mighty good for not breaking, but they don't 
 look as pretty as queensware does, is the reason, I 
 reckon, why people don't have them. ,, 
 
 "Well, but if they are clean, you know, their 
 looking dark don't make any odds. Cleanliness, 
 to be sure, is next to godliness ; but then it may 
 be with that as with most other things which may 
 not be just as they look. I have seen things that 
 looked clean when they were not clean, and these 
 5 
 
98 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 plates are clean, I am sure, though they look rather 
 darker than you would like to see them." 
 
 Her countenance here showed that she took the 
 hint, and, I thought, took it well ; so I proceeded, 
 and told of a sister whom I loved very much for 
 her Christian qualities and her neat housekeeping, 
 who cleaned her pewter by rubbing it briskly with 
 fine sand on a piece of coarse woollen, just as I had 
 seen it done with brickdust, which I thought bet- 
 ter. This served for the pewter plates. Knives 
 and forks required the same sort of rubbings as 
 they also contracted a dirty look by only washing 
 and wiping them, no matter how clean. I did not 
 like, though, the way I had sometimes seen some 
 little negroes doing it, by jobbing them into the 
 ground. It was better to rub the knives briskly 
 across a soft piece of plank on which brickdust or 
 dry ashes had been laid. And thus I proceeded 
 to the end of the chapter ; relieving it as best I 
 could, and watching closely the countenance of my 
 pupil, lest I should offend her. My work was done, 
 and, judging of the cause by the effect, it was well 
 done ; for I never afterwards found that a dirty 
 house. The pewter plates and knives and forks 
 were not only cleaned, but made to look clean; 
 and my sister became one of the kindest and most 
 affectionate of my sisters. I stopped with them 
 every round I made, and found myself always a 
 welcome guest and in comfortable quarters. 
 
 The general feeling of discouragement which 
 was apt to follow a recollection of the strong terms 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 99 
 
 in which brother J. had expressed his disappoint- 
 ment at my being sent to the circuit and in charge, 
 began early on this first round to work temptation. 
 Startled as he appeared to be at the unsuitableness 
 of the appointment, perhaps others might not 
 credit it at all. The country was strange, though 
 it was not far from home ; no one knew me, nor 
 had ever heard of me, and I might be rejected as 
 an impostor. Riding up to my preaching-places, 
 the stare of the people seemed to say, " It is im- 
 possible ; this boy cannot be the man." If, as I 
 passed through the company going into the meet- 
 ing-house, any one accosted me, the impression 
 was, I am suspected and shall be asked for my cre- 
 dentials. And this was the more annoying as I had 
 not with me a single line to certify my appointment, 
 nor that I was a preacher at all. It was on my 
 second or third round, that, coming to brother J.\s, 
 he asked me in his usual earnest manner how many 
 members I had turned out at H. meeting-house. 
 "None, sir." " What, do you let the people get 
 drunk, run for the bottle and turn up jack, and keep 
 them in the Church?" 44 My dear sir, I hope 
 nobody does so at II. I am sure I never heard of 
 it." "A pretty piece of business," rejoined he ; 
 " why, at Polly H.'s wedding a whole parcel of them 
 ran for the bottle, and old J. A. held it, and got 
 drunk into the bargain. And now you, the 'preacher 
 in charge, come here and tell me that you never 
 heard of it, though I can hear of it forty miles off." 
 This was a poser for me. I had not a word to say. 
 
100 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Can lie be mistaken, thought I ? Surely not, or he 
 would not speak so positively. And then he gives 
 me names. But how could such monstrous wrong- 
 doing have been perpetrated without my getting at 
 least some inkling of it? I had not confidence 
 enough to ask him any questions, but sat con- 
 founded under a second flagellation, the wordy 
 strokes of which, however, were of little conse- 
 quence compared to the facts stated, that such 
 immoralities had been practiced, and that the 
 perpetrators had not been brought to trial. But 
 this was to be the last of my trials from brother J. 
 that year. "With feelings too sad for society, I took 
 the earliest hour for retirement. My bed was in 
 an upper room, the floor of which was made of 
 loose plank, without ceiling of any kind at the 
 lower edges of the joists, which might have ob- 
 structed the passage of sounds from the room 
 below. And I had not been long in bed before I 
 heard my kind-hearted sister say, "0, Mr. J., you 
 don't know how much you have grieved me." 
 "Grieved you, Betsey," replied he; " how in the 
 world can I have grieved you ?" " By the way you 
 have talked to brother Capers. I am afraid he will 
 never come here again. How can you talk to him 
 so?" " Why, Betsey, child," returned he, " don't 
 you reckon I love Billy as well as you do ? I 
 talk to him so because I love him. He'll find 
 people enough to honey him without my doing it; 
 and he has got to learn to stand trials, that's all." 
 Sister J. seemed not to be satisfied, but wished to 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 101 
 
 extort a promise that he would not talk so roughly 
 to me any more. But his conscience was concerned 
 in that, and he would not promise it. " You may 
 honey him," said he, "as much as you please, but 
 I go for making him a Methodist preacher." Well 
 then, thought I, it is a pity, my old friend, that you 
 should spoil your work by not tightening your floor. 
 You might as well have promised it, for I will take 
 care that you shall not make any thing by the 
 refusal. The next morning it was not long before 
 something fetched up the unpleasant theme, and as 
 he was warming into the smiting spirit, I looked 
 in his face and smiled. "What !" said he, " do you 
 laugh at it?" "As well laugh as cry, brother J.," 
 I returned; "did you not tell sister J. last night 
 that you loved me as well as she did, and only 
 wanted to make a Methodist preacher of me ? I 
 am sure you would not have me cry for any thing 
 that is to do me so much good." It was all over : 
 he joined in the laugh, and threw away his seeming 
 ill-humor. But as for the matter of the immorali- 
 ties at H., it turned out to be all a hoax. Some 
 wag, knowing how much such a circumstance 
 would trouble him, probably originated the tale 
 just for that purpose. 
 
 But I could not so easily divest myself of the 
 impression made on my mind by that first conversa- 
 tion with him. "What was to become of the cir- 
 cuit?" and, "The Bishop had as well have sent no- 
 body," were words I could not digest. Surely, I 
 thought, they must express his judgment as to my 
 
102 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 unfitness for my work, "the egg-shell not dropped 
 off of me vet." That judgment being against me, is 
 the foundation of all this harshness after all ; and 
 perhaps I Lad as well give up the circuit and return 
 home. My mind became cloudy and uncomforta- 
 ble, and I was next tempted to doubt my being 
 called to preach ; so that before the first Quarterly 
 Meeting I was in great perplexity and sore trouble. 
 Indeed, I would have left the circuit, but for the 
 consideration that I was bound by contract with 
 the Conference to the contrary ; for such appeared 
 to me to be the nature of the transaction in which 
 I had offered myself for the itinerancy, had been 
 accepted, and was appointed to the circuit. At the 
 Quarterly Meeting, however, I would see the presid- 
 ing elder who represented the Conference, state the 
 whole case to him, and get myself discharged. In 
 the mean time I proposed to relax nothing in the 
 way of official duty; as, at the worst, I might be no 
 worse than the Scribes sitting in Moses' seat, and 
 the people had better hear the gospel from my lips, 
 and have the Discipline administered by me, than 
 be left wholly to themselves ; especially as I was 
 exceeding nice to avoid all speculation, and stick 
 closely to the books. But at the Quarterly Meeting 
 no opportunity presented for such a conversation 
 with the presiding elder as I wished, before preach- 
 ing on Saturday. He preached, and the sermon 
 seemed to have been formed for me. I was greatly 
 comforted and relieved ; so that the whole time of 
 his presence in the circuit passed without my saying 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 103 
 
 a word of what had been intended. And yet he 
 was scarcely gone before the temptation returned 
 with redoubled violence, and I became unhappy. 
 There were several excellent men, local preachers, 
 in the circuit, (that father in Israel, Robert Hancock, 
 for one,) to whom I might have opened my mind to 
 great advantage, but Satan hindered me. The pre- 
 vailing suggestions for secrecy were, that even as 
 things were I might scarcely hope to do any good, 
 but to let it be known that I was not called to 
 preach, and yet was preaching, would turn the peo- 
 ple away from their duty altogether ; and that if I 
 advised with any but brother J., whose judgment I 
 had already, the delicacy of the subject and kind- 
 ness of their feelings would get the better of their 
 judgment, and mislead me. To give up the work 
 I could not for the reason stated ; and to continue 
 in it under such extreme embarrassment, seemed 
 scarcely to be a smaller evil. 
 
 It. was in such circumstances that, attending an 
 appointment at Carter's meeting-house, in Chester 
 District, I had the painful duty to perform of ex- 
 pelling one of the members on a charge of crim. 
 con. It was a female. Her father-in-law, and the 
 connections on that side generally, believed her 
 guilty ; her husband held her to be innocent, and 
 was partially deranged on account of the aflair; 
 and all the society and most of the people of the 
 neighborhood were intensely enlisted for or against 
 the accused. The trial was conducted with exact 
 conformity to Discipline, and her triers found her 
 
104 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 guilty. But on declaring the judgment of the 
 triers, and pronouncing her expulsion, a riot ensued 
 and considerable violence. Coming out of the 
 meeting-house, I heard of the " egg-shell" from this 
 quarter, a woman exclaiming at the top of her voice, 
 "He had better go home and suck his mammy." 
 Several were fighting, and among the rest was the 
 poor crazy husband fighting his father. I recog- 
 nized several members of the Church among those 
 who if not actually fighting were ready for it, and 
 profanely boisterous. And this sad affair helped 
 me much. The " egg-shell," and "sucking my 
 mammy," from the lips of a vulgar woman, changed 
 entirely the character ' of my fancied disqualifi- 
 cation for the work I was engaged in ; while I knew 
 that in that instance, at least, my duty had been 
 well and rightfully done ; and that the imputation 
 came from none of the Lord's prophets, but one of 
 those who were of the synagogue of Satan. It 
 served me also another purpose. It roused me from 
 a constant brooding over my unworthiness ; as it 
 furnished a new subject for my mind to act on, of 
 sufficient interest to engage it fully. "What was to 
 be done, when I should come to Carter's meeting- 
 house on my next round, to reduce this confusion 
 to the order of the gospel, became the question, 
 instead of what I was to do with myself. At the 
 time, there was a very large congregation assem- 
 bled as if for some uncommon cause ; but I preached 
 on the truth and necessity of conversion, as if 
 nothing unusual had taken place. After sermon, I 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 105 
 
 made the usual appointment to meet the society 
 apart from the congregation, and told them that I 
 felt a special solicitude to have every one remain 
 for the society meeting whose name had been left 
 in the church-book at my last appointment. I knew, 
 and it was known to them, that some unhappy 
 things had transpired. Several weeks had since 
 passed, there had been time for reflection, and I 
 earnestly begged them all to remain. They all did 
 remain: and after opening the meeting with singing 
 and prayer, I took the class-paper, and calling the 
 first name on the list, instead of addressing the 
 individual, as usual, with some question about the 
 state of his soul, I asked of the rest if there w T as any 
 thing against him ; telling them, at the same time, 
 that, in view of what had passed among them four 
 weeks before, and possibly other things since, I was 
 deeply concerned to have them in peace in order to 
 the blessing of God upon them. Peace we must 
 have, or, in the absence of it, a curse from the Lord 
 instead of a blessing. And I adjured them, if any 
 one knew aught against the brother named, he or 
 she should make it known. They need not state 
 what was the objection just then ; we would inquire 
 about it afterwards ; but only say there is something 
 against him. If there was nothing against him, 
 they might keep their peace. I should proceed to 
 call the whole list in the same manner, for the same 
 purpose, that it might be known who was without 
 blame among them; and I warned them that if at 
 any time there should arise any strife or quarrel 
 5* 
 
106 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 between any of them on account of any thing 
 which had then transpired, and of which complaint 
 being then called for none was made, the person 
 originating it should be held guilty of disturbing 
 the peace of the Church, and be accordingly brought 
 to trial. If either of them knew aught against a 
 brother or sister to interrupt their peace and fel- 
 lowship, they should then make it known, by only 
 saying one word : that was, there is something (no 
 matter what) against that brother or sister. At 
 that moment I felt that, for once, the boy was a 
 man. I had the bull by the horns and was able to 
 manage him. God had heard my prayers, directed 
 my mind aright, and given me strength and courage. 
 Having gone through the list, I had gotten a com- 
 mittee of persons to whom no one might object, for 
 the trial of all the rest ; and before the sun went 
 down we had finished our work, with the expulsion 
 of not more than two persons. 
 
 There are and ought to be exceptions to any gen- 
 eral rule. The evil is, (and it is a great abuse of 
 a just principle,) when the exception is plead as a 
 precedent, and put in the place of the rule itself 
 for an ordinary or not so extraordinary a case. I 
 had seen at the time referred to, a member of the 
 Church, and a clever man, w^ith his coat thrown off 
 as if for a fight; and he did fight; and yet we did 
 not expel him. The melee in which he saw his 
 brother fighting his father, had surprised him in.to 
 the transgression; from which he quickly withdrew, 
 and betook himself in agony to prayer. And the 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 107 
 
 testimony was, that for more than two days and 
 nights he neither ate nor drank, but upbraided him- 
 self as one of the worst of offenders. He then 
 found peace, and at the time of this general trial 
 was exceeding happy, saying, "Expel me, brethren, 
 for the sake of the cause, but let me join again." 
 And what would it have been to have expelled him, 
 and then taken him back again ? Or would it have 
 been right to treat him as another ought to have 
 been treated ? 
 
 Some time before this I had taken a new place 
 into the circuit, on the eastern side of it, called 
 Shaffner's; at which my preaching was much 
 blessed, and a society raised, among a plain but 
 very worthy people who had never before heard 
 Methodist preaching. And about the same time 
 the large and well-established society at McWhor- 
 ter's meeting-house, in Mecklenburg county, N. C, 
 began to be favored with refreshing seasons, and 
 an increase of members. At several other places, 
 also, good was evidently done ; so that by the time 
 of my second Quarterly Meeting, I was enabled to 
 discover that my extreme discouragement was owing 
 to temptation, and not that I had obtruded myself 
 uncalled into the ministry. Afterwards to the close 
 of the year, there was no place where my ministry 
 was more favored than at Carter's meeting-house, 
 and, except perhaps McWhorter's, none where I had 
 larger or more attentive congregations. 
 
 In July of this year, (I think it was,) we had an- 
 other camp-meeting, at Rembert's in Santee Cir- 
 
108 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 cuit; and I was permitted to attend it. It was 
 held at the same place as those of the previous 
 year, and was of the same character, both for the 
 great numbers of people, white and colored, who 
 attended it, and the powerful influence of the 
 gospel among them. Perhaps there is no spot in 
 Carolina, if in any other State, so remarkable for 
 the number of persons converted at its camp- 
 meetings as this one. It was on the land of that 
 old disciple, Henry Young, and I remember hear- 
 ing him say that he had known of more than five 
 hundred persons converted there, from 1808 to 
 1815, inclusive. But I mentioned this camp- 
 meeting for a recollection that on my return from 
 it to my circuit, I lost the only appointment which 
 I ever did lose on any circuit on account of incle- 
 ment weather. I was at my uncle's, and fond as I 
 was to be there, I suffered myself to be persuaded 
 to remain a day ; as by setting out the next morn- 
 ing at daylight I might reach the place of preach- 
 ing by riding twenty-five miles before the hour. 
 My good aunt had my breakfast ready before it 
 was day, but it was raining extremely hard, and 
 " wait" became the word. I waited till past any 
 practicable hour for the ride, and the weather was 
 still no better ; but then it cleared off, and my con- 
 gregation went to meeting without finding me. 
 Many a time afterwards the recollection of this in- 
 cident decided me to go when there was little or 
 no prospect of finding any one to preach to ; as I 
 never found any weather so uncomfortable as I 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 109 
 
 had been taught in this instance my feelings must 
 be if I disappointed a congregation. And having 
 written this desultory paragraph, I will add an- 
 other, which may serve for a comparison of the 
 past with the present with respect to an important 
 point embraced in the bounds of my circuit, though 
 not then a preaching-place. 
 
 A young lawyer of my acquaintance had settled 
 himself (though it proved not to.be permanent) at 
 Lancaster Court-house, and came to my appointment 
 at Camp creek, to get me to take the village into 
 my round. An appointment was made for preach- 
 ing there, and on the day appointed I was early at 
 the village. But it happened to be sale-day ; the 
 court-house yard was well feathered with carts re- 
 tailing cakes and cider, and probably peach-brandy 
 and whisky, and the customers were too much 
 engrossed with these good things to allow of any 
 thing better. Preaching was postponed till night, 
 when it was thought the sober ones would attend, 
 and the drunken ones be gone home. The text 
 was, (Num. xxii. 38,) "And Balaam said untoBalak, 
 Lo, I am come unto thee : have I now any power at 
 all to say any thing ? The word that God putteth 
 in my mouth, that shall I speak." And as I was 
 saying something about Balaam and Balak which 
 I thought suitable, some one rose up in the congre- 
 gation, and stepping a little forward, cursed me 
 with a loud, angry voice, and bade me quit that 
 gibberish and go to my text. Nobody clapped 
 him, and. nobody reproved him, but it excited a 
 
110 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 general titter. I did as I was bidden, but to no 
 better purpose ; lie came a little nearer, and swore 
 that lie could preach better than that himself, say- 
 ing, "Now, Mr., jist give me them thar books, and 
 you'll see." This appeared exceeding funny, and 
 of course the titter was renewed with increase. 
 And a third time he swore lustily that he could 
 beat me a preaching all hollow, and if he were in 
 my place he would go home and never try again. 
 I did, however, try it once more, and only once 
 more at that place. And then, as a set-off to the 
 previous outrage, the sheriff' of the district fixed a 
 dancing-party for the night, in special honor, as I 
 was told, of the young preacher ; and I was invited, 
 (in earnest,) to attend it. That was the Lancaster 
 Court-house of 1809 ; and as I was to go by the 
 Discipline in every thing, I gave it up under the 
 rule of section xiv., answer to question 1. I had 
 no lack of preaching-places. 
 
 The latter part of the year passed off without 
 any thing remarkable more than is usually met 
 with. My old friend J., whose unfortunate auster- 
 ity had been at first so injurious to me, had become 
 one of my kindest friends, and the most reliable 
 of my advisers in all cases of difficulty. Every- 
 where I was treated with affection ; and at most 
 places I had brothers and sisters whom I loved as 
 if I had been born with them. And these were 
 the great means of my deliverance from the sore 
 temptations of the past time : the fruit which 
 it pleased God to give me of my labors, the 
 
 ■ 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 affectionate confidence of the people, and my love 
 for them. 
 
 At the close of the year, Bishop Asbury passed 
 through my circuit on his way to Conference ; and 
 it was arranged for me to meet him at Waxaws, 
 (General Jackson's birthplace,) and attend him 
 along a somewhat circuitous route to Camden. 
 I met him at the house of that most estimable 
 man and worthy local preacher, Robert Han- 
 cock, who had been more than a friend to me, 
 even a father, from the beginning. The Bishop 
 was then accompanied by the Rev. Henry Boehm 
 as his travelling companion ; so long afterwards 
 known in the Philadelphia Conference as one of 
 the purest and best of Methodist ministers, and 
 whose society I found to be as "the dew of Her- 
 mon." This was the last of my itinerant year on 
 Wateree Circuit ; and as I have had quite enough 
 of the disagreeable in my account of it, I will end 
 the chapter (perhaps more to your liking) with 
 an anecdote of my first night and last night on this 
 trip with the Bishop. I met him when a heavy 
 snow had just fallen, and the north-west wind 
 blowing hard made it extremely cold. The snow 
 had not been expected, and our host was out of 
 wood ; so that we had to use what had been picked 
 up from under the snow, and was damp and in- 
 combustible. Our bed-room was a loft, with a fire- 
 place to it and plenty of wood ; but how to make 
 the wood bum was the question. I had been at 
 work blowing and blowing, long before bedtime, 
 
112 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 till, to my mortification, the aged Bishop came up, 
 and there was still no fire to warm him. " O 
 Billy, sugar," said he, as he approached the fire- 
 place, " never mind it; give it up: we will get 
 warm in bed." And then stepping to his bed, as 
 if to ascertain the certainty of it, and lifting the 
 bedclothes, he continued, "Yes, yes, give it up, 
 sugar, blankets a plenty." So I gave it up, think- 
 ing the play of my pretty strong lungs might dis- 
 turb his devotions, for he was instantly on his 
 knees. Well, thought I, this is too bad. But how 
 for the morning? Bishop Asbury rises at four — 
 two hours before day — and what shall I do for a 
 fire then ? No lightwood, and nothing dry. But it 
 occurred to me that the coals put in the midst of 
 the simmering wood might dry it sufficiently to 
 keep fire and prepare it for kindling in the morn- 
 ing ; so I gave it up. But then, how might I be 
 sure of waking early enough to kindle a fire at four 
 o'clock ? My usual hour had been six. And to meet 
 this difficulty, I concluded to wrap myself in my 
 overcoat, and lie on the bed without using the 
 bedclothes. In this predicament I was not likely 
 to oversleep myself on so cold a night ; but there 
 might be danger of my not knowing what hour it 
 was when I happened to awake. Nap after nap 
 was dreamed away, as I lay shivering in the cold, 
 till I thought it must be four o'clock; and then 
 creeping softly to the chimney and applying the 
 breath of my live bellows, as I held my watch to 
 the reluctant coals to see the hour, I had just made 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 113 
 
 it out, when the same soft accents saluted me, 
 " Go to bed, sugar, it is hardly three o'clock yet." 
 This may do for that first night ; and the last was as 
 follows : It had rained heavily through the night, 
 and we slept near enough the shingles for the bene- 
 fit of the composing power of its pattering upon 
 them. It was past four o'clock, and the Bishop 
 was awake, but " Billy sugar" lay fast asleep. So 
 he whispered to Brother Boehm not to disturb 
 me, and the fire was made, they were dressed, had 
 had their devotions, and were at their books, be- 
 fore I was awake. This seemed shockingly out of 
 order; and my confusion was complete, as, waking 
 and springing out of bed, I saw them sitting be- 
 fore a blazing fire. I could scarcely say good 
 morning, and the Bishop, as if he might have been 
 offended at my neglect, affected not to hear it. 
 Boehm, who knew him better, smiled pleasantly, 
 as I whispered in his ear, Why didn't you wake 
 me? The Bishop seemed to hear this, and closing 
 his book, and turning to me with a look of down- 
 right mischief, had an anecdote for me. 64 1 was 
 travelling," said he, " quite lately, and came to a 
 circuit where we had one of our good boys. 0, he 
 was so good ! and the weather was as cold as it 
 was the other night at brother Hancock's ; and as 
 I was Bishop Asbury, he got up in the bitter cold 
 at three o'clock to make a fire for me. And what 
 do you think? He slept last night till six." And 
 he tickled at it as if he might have been a boy 
 himself. And this was that Bishop Asbury whom 
 
114 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS.' 
 
 I have heard called austere: a man, confessedly, 
 who never shed tears, and who seldom laughed, 
 but whose sympathies were, nevertheless, as soft as 
 a sanctified spirit might possess. 
 
 The time of Conference (December, 1809) was 
 spent at home, and in visiting my sister and uncle, 
 with great satisfaction. And at the first intelli- 
 gence I was readj' to be off to my next circuit, which 
 was Pee Dee, (comprehending the present Black 
 River and Darlington Circuits,) stretching from the 
 neighborhood of Georgetown upward through Wil- 
 liamsburg and a part of Sumter District, to a point 
 on Lynche's creek about opposite to Darlington 
 Court-house, thence across that creek to a short 
 distance above a smaller one called the Gully, and 
 downward by Darlington Court-house and Jeffers's 
 creek, so as to include all of that part of the 
 country lying on the west side of Pee Dee river 
 and the route just described. On this circuit I had 
 for my colleague the Rev. Thomas D. Glenn, who was 
 in charge. My recollections supply little concerning 
 myself for the six months that I was continued on 
 it, more than the common routine of travelling, 
 preaching, and meeting the classes. It was in this 
 circuit, however, that my first wife lived, then 
 fifteen years old, but looking younger than her age. 
 And, although I entertained not the most distant 
 idea of marriage, and she was by no means grown, 
 I was conscious of an attachment to her which 
 must have overcome my prudence (with her con- 
 sent) had she been a little older. I say prudence, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 115 
 
 for in those days of long rides and little quarterage, 
 with, no allowance for family expenses, it was 
 deemed vastly imprudent for a young preacher to 
 marry, should he even get an angel for his wife. 
 Riding, and preaching, and meeting class, then, I 
 went round the circuit till the second Quar- 
 terly Meeting, after such a common fashion as to 
 furnish nothing for remark, except a dry story 
 about a witch, and perhaps one about losing my 
 suspenders. No, it was here that I learned by ex- 
 perience that it was improper for a preacher on 
 such a circuit to prescribe to himself certain stated 
 days weekly to be kept as fast-days. I had pro- 
 posed to myself to observe strictly every Friday as 
 a fast-day, eating nothing till near night, and every 
 Wednesday as a day of abstinence, eating lightly 
 only of vegetables. On one Wednesday I had to 
 take this light breakfast of a bit of bread and a cup 
 of coffee at the house of my well-remembered old 
 friend, the Rev. Thomas Humphries, on Jeffers's 
 creek, and ride twenty-two miles to preach and 
 meet the class, and afterwards twelve miles farther 
 to my stopping-place, without food. Thursday I 
 rode not quite so far, preached and met class. 
 And Friday, my absolute fast-day, I rode from 
 fifteen to seventeen miles to my daily work, and 
 fourteen miles afterwards. This was repeated but 
 a few times before I became satisfied that it was 
 wrong, and that the duty of fasting ceased to be a 
 duty when one could not rest. I fear that I may 
 have erred much oftener since on the other extreme, 
 
116 ^IEE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 and excused myself from fasting when it ought not 
 to have been neglected. And I will venture the 
 remark as a general one concerning this duty as 
 observed by the Methodists then and now : if we 
 were then too strict, have we not since become too 
 lax? 
 
 But the story of the witch : I had preached and 
 held class at the Gully, (I dare say the witches have 
 all disappeared from there long ago,) and was come 
 to^a brother's house to pass the night, when I asked 
 him who that singular-looking old lady was who 
 sat just before the pulpit during class, and had not 
 her name on the class-paper. "0," said he, " she 
 is the old witch!" " Witch? And if she is a 
 witch, why do you suffer her to stay in class?" 
 u Suffer her! why, we are afraid of her, and if you 
 knew how much mischief she had done, you would 
 be afraid of her too." And he went on to tell of 
 the poor women's cows she had shot with hair-balls, 
 and how with a single hair-ball, or a great many of 
 them fired at once, she had killed in a moment 
 every fowl in the yard of some poor woman whom 
 she had a grudge against. The story was long 
 enough to allow me time to recollect myself, and I 
 only answered that she must be too bad to stay in 
 class, at any rate. On my next round, seeing the 
 same person on the same seat, after preaching I 
 repeated the rule, "Ai every other meeting of the 
 class in every place, let no stranger be admitted;" 
 and remarked that as no such restriction had been 
 observed on my last round, I should observe it then. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 117 
 
 No stranger, meaning no one not a member of the 
 Church, could be allowed to stay in during the 
 class-meeting which w T e were then going to hold, 
 and that if there might be any one present who 
 wished to join the Church, and so secure the right 
 of being present at all our meetings, such person 
 would please come forward and join the Church. 
 The old woman looked as if she might have been 
 struck with her hair-ball herself, and dropped her 
 head, as if to conceal her face behind the frontis- 
 piece of her long black bonnet. " Ma'am," I 
 asked her, "are you a member of our Church?" 
 But she did not notice the question. "You, 
 ma'am," I repeated, "are you a member of the 
 Church ? Please tell me, for if you are not, 3 r ou 
 have*to join or go out." There was no mistaking 
 as to who was meant, and she shook herself with a 
 strange wriggling motion, not unlike a turkey in 
 the sand, muttering something like boo, boo, boo, 
 woo, woo, woo. " You won't be offended with me, 
 ma'am, for I must do my duty, and if you won't 
 go out I must lead you out." The wriggle seemed 
 almost a spasm, and the boo, boo, woo, woo, 
 rumbled in her throat as if she might be strangling. 
 " Shall I have to lead you out, ma'am, and you a 
 lady too?" Boo, boo, woo, woo, and up she got 
 and was off, shaking and tossing herself, as she 
 went, most ridiculously. Bu^I had spoiled our 
 class-meeting. The terror of ner anger was upon 
 us, and what would she not do, poor old woman? 
 My good but weak brother told me that evening he 
 
US 
 
 LITE OP WILLIAM C A P E R S 
 
 thought me very bold for such a young man. "Bold, 
 because I would not let a poor befooled old woman 
 scare me'r '-But she was a witch!" "Then let 
 her shoot my horse." "Ah," said he. "I don't 
 know if you will ever get him round here again." 
 "I dare say." said I, "she would kill him if she 
 could, but she can't, and if she don't kill him she 
 is no witch." 
 
 But about the suspenders: It was no: iar i ; i 
 the Gully (I think some eight or ten miles that I 
 lost my suspenders. And the way of it was this : 
 Brother D. 3 a weak but eminently pious man. had 
 conducted me home with him from a very refresh- 
 ing meeting ; and having retired to a room for 
 secret prayer, as he came out with a beaming coun- 
 tenance, exceeding happy, " 0, Brother Capers." 
 he exclaimed, "how I love you! I love to hear 
 you preach. I love to hear you meet class, I Love 
 you anyhow, but 0. them gallowses! "VTon": 
 pull them off":"' "Pull them off, my brother, i:: 1 
 what?" "0," said he, "they make you look so 
 worldly ; and I know you ain't worldly neither, 
 but do pull them off." So I pulled them off, and 
 i: was several years before I put them on again. 
 
 A: our second Quarterly Meeting, which was 
 early in June, (1S10. ) I was removed from this cir- 
 cuit to the town of Fayetteville, Xorth Carolina. 
 The case was urgent, and my removal sudden : so 
 that I went immediately after the Quarterly Meeting, 
 and on the 13th day of the month was in my new 
 charge. Wliat had been my chief concern the year 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 119 
 
 before in Wateree Circuit, was now become a 
 secondary matter, and not how to administer the 
 Discipline, but how to serve the people from the 
 pulpit, was now the point of principal importance. 
 For the administration of Discipline, as it concerned 
 my office as preacher in charge, the rules were few 
 and plain ; and if in any thkig I might be doubtful, 
 I was sure to have reliable advisers. But how was 
 I to preach four sermons a week to the same con- 
 gregation without repetition ? And how could I 
 expect to keep a congregation who should be served 
 with repetitions of the same matter, which, at the 
 first hearing, might be only tolerable ? The first 
 thing that struck me as necessary was, that I should 
 keep strictly to the text, and never bring in matter 
 which did not directly spring from it. There must 
 be matter enough in any text I should take to make 
 a sermon, and when I had delivered that, and such 
 exhortation as it naturally furnished, I must be 
 done. Then I must be always mindful that I had 
 to preach, and conduct my reading and thinking 
 so as to be on the alert to find preaching-matter. 
 But still I found myself worried with the appre- 
 hension of repeating the same thing over again, as 
 it seemed impossible to recollect at any one time 
 all that I had been preaching previously. And it 
 struck me that, like the promiscuous passing 
 of carriages along a street where no one ever thinks 
 of keeping or avoiding tracks, compared to the 
 market roads, which, though less travelled, are 
 much more rutted, I might probably gain my ob- 
 
120 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 jeet more easily by forgetting than by remembering 
 previous discourses, if, indeed, I might gain it at 
 all. And I determined to try, in addition to the 
 two preceding rules, the effect it might have for 
 me to put out the tracks as soon as I should make 
 them, by not recollecting any thing I had preached, 
 but preaching each time as if I had not done so 
 before. I mention this, not to recommend it to 
 others, but because of its influence over my own 
 practice ; and the more, as the rule adopted then 
 has generally governed me since. But I am sure 
 by experience that the third can only be allow- 
 able in connection w^ith the first and second rule. 
 For although while preaching -w r as my sole business 
 I never doubted that my plan was the best for me, 
 I have not been so confident of it since I have been 
 charged with other duties to a degree which has 
 much diverted my attention from it. To be an oft- 
 at-hand preacher requires indispensably for one to 
 keep his work always in mind, and so actively as 
 to press into his service for the pulpit whatever 
 may be desirable for it. And if one would have 
 new matter in every discourse, he must look for it 
 in what has come under his observation in books, 
 in men. in every thing he has met with since he 
 preached last. But, above all things else, it is by 
 studying the Scriptures w^ith an active preaching 
 mind, that we may bring forth to effect things new 
 and old in all our pulpit efforts. 
 
 For the performance of pastoral duty, I visited 
 each family of my charge once a week, appropriat- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 121 
 
 ing the time from 9 o'clock A. M. to 1 P. M. for 
 five days of the week to this purpose, and allowing 
 a half-hour to each house I visited. The names of 
 the families were appropriated to each day, and 
 with which one to begin and end for the day, so 
 that each family knew within a few minutes when 
 to expect me. I considered these stated visits as 
 so many appointments which I might not disap- 
 point, and was seldom absent at the time when I 
 was looked for. 
 
 In this pleasant town, with such people as the 
 Blakes, Coburn, Lumsden, Saltonstall, McDonald, 
 Thomas, Eccles, Price, and others, I was most 
 agreeably situated. But what contributed most to 
 my happiness as regards society, was the uncom- 
 mon attachment to each other which subsisted 
 between that most pure-hearted and intelligent 
 man, the Rev. John H. Pearce, and nryself. He was 
 generally considered eccentric and enthusiastic. 
 But I knew him as he knew himself, and I never 
 discovered any eccentricity in him, but this : that, 
 being a bachelor, he wore a coarse wool hat as long 
 as he could keep it whole, brogan shoes, and clothes 
 at the lowest price, that he might save every penny 
 in his power for the poor ; for whom, whoever they 
 might be of virtuous reputation, he felt a more 
 lively and intense sympathy than any other person 
 w T hom I have ever known. He was enthusiastic, 
 as a matter of course ; for he loved the Lord his 
 God with all his heart, and his neighbor as him- 
 self ; which the world and half-fashioned Christians 
 6 
 
122 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 have ever held to be the height of enthusiasm. I 
 never found him wanting of a reason of the hope 
 that was in him, nor of his conduct in any matter, 
 which those who blamed his enthusiasm and eccen- 
 tricity might answer from the Scriptures. Love' 
 seemed to be his universal element, gentleness and 
 meekness the forms of its manifestation. He was 
 originally from Rhode Island, had been well bred, 
 and at this time had two brothers, Oliver and Na- 
 thanael, who occupied first places in the community 
 as to wealth and worldly respects. John had been 
 brought up to the profession of physic, embraced 
 deism in his youth, and adopted the Epicurean 
 morals ; but he had now been for some years con- 
 verted to God, and was such an example of unlim- 
 ited self-devotion as I doubt if I have ever known 
 exceeded, if equalled. And what made him parti- 
 cularly interesting to me was his continually happy 
 spirit, which kept his countenance ever upward, 
 ever bright. "With him, it was impossible for me 
 to suffer a moment's discouragement about any 
 thing; and suph was our mutual attachment, that 
 we were never apart when it was consistent with 
 duty for us to be together. 
 
 With such names as I have mentioned above, it 
 should seem that there must have been abun- 
 dant means for the support of the ministry. No 
 doubt there was ; and no doubt, too, that if the 
 Church had been well organized as regards fiscal 
 affairs, there would have been ample accommoda- 
 tions for the preacher, without having him to board 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 123 
 
 from house to house among his people. But the 
 general policy of the Church was, to have an un- 
 married ministry to suit the long rides to the scat- 
 tered appointments of circuits a hundred miles 
 through ; the towns were not yet considered as 
 requiring any thing materially different from the 
 circuits ; and except the parsonage-house in George- 
 town, built for Mr. Hammett and at his instance, and 
 a poor hull of a house in "Wilmington, built by Mr. 
 Meredith for his use, the only parsonage-house in 
 the three States of North and South Carolina and 
 Georgia was in Charleston : that famous old 
 yellow coop which stood in Bethel churchyard; 
 in which, when that very great man, soul and body, 
 Dr. Olin, was stationed there, he could not stand 
 upright in his chamber. But why build parsonage- 
 houses for single men, either in town or country ? 
 In the present case, it would have been regarded a 
 downright evil ; and the incumbent now to be pro- 
 vided for out of the question, there were too many 
 homes for the preacher, and too much interest felt 
 at each of them to have him there, for a thought 
 to be entertained of building a preaeher's-house. 
 Were they not all his houses, and the best of their 
 accommodations at his service ? For the six 
 months of my pastorate in Payetteville, I lodged 
 successively with brothers Price, Blake, Coburn, 
 and Lumsden : four instead of one, (their places 
 being convenient,) on the circuit principle of alter- 
 nating with the people ; because, if the preacher 
 was a blessing, they should share it, and if a bur- 
 
124 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS, 
 
 den, they should hear it among them severally. 
 I was put under the kindest obligations to them, 
 the remembrance of which is more than pleasant ; 
 particularly those most excellent men and their 
 saintly wives, Isham Blake and John Cob urn : 
 fathers and mothers were they indeed to me. 
 
 But the most remarkable man in Fayetteville 
 when I went there, and who died during my stay, 
 was a negro, by the name of Henry Evans. I say, 
 the most remarkable in view of his class ; and I call 
 him negro, with unfeigned respect. He was a negro : 
 that is, he was of that race, without any admixture 
 of another. The name simply designates the race, 
 and it is vulgar to regard it with opprobrium. I 
 have known and loved and honored not a few 
 negroes in my life, who were probably as pure of 
 heart as Evans, or anybody else. Such were my 
 old friends, Castile Selby and John Boquet, of 
 Charleston, "Will Campbell and Harry Myrick, of 
 Wilmington, York Cohen, of Savannah, and others 
 I might name. These I might call remarkable for 
 their goodness. But I use the word in a broader 
 sense for Henry Evans, who was confessedly the 
 father of the Methodist Church, white and black, 
 in Fayetteville, and the best preacher of his time 
 in that quarter ; and who was so remarkable, as to 
 have become the greatest curiosity of the town; 
 insomuch that distinguished visitors hardly felt 
 that they might pass a Sunday in Fayetteville 
 without hearing him preach. Evans was from 
 Virginia; a shoemaker by trade, and, I think, was 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 125 
 
 born free. He became a Christian and a Methodist 
 quite young, and was licensed to preach in Virginia. 
 "While yet a young man, he determined to remove 
 to Charleston, S. C, thinking he might succeed 
 best there at his trade. But having reached Fay- 
 etteville on his way to Charleston, and something 
 detaining him for a few days, his spirit was stirred 
 at perceiving that the people of his race in that 
 town were wholly given to profanity and lewdness, 
 never hearing preaching of any denomination, and 
 living emphatically without hope and without God 
 in the world. This determined him to stop in 
 Faj^etteville ; and he began to preach to the negroes, 
 with great effect. The town council interfered, 
 and nothing in his power could prevail with them 
 to permit him to preach. He then withdrew to the 
 sand-hills, out of town, and held meetings in the 
 woods, changing his appointments from place to 
 place. ]STo law was violated, while the council was 
 effectually eluded; and so the opposition passed 
 into the hands of the mob. These he worried out 
 by changing his appointments, so that when they 
 went to work their will upon him, he was preaching 
 somewhere else. Meanwhile, whatever the most 
 honest purpose of a simple heart could do to recon- 
 cile his enemies, was employed by him for that end. 
 He eluded no one in private, but sought opportu- 
 nities to explain himself; avowed the purity of his 
 intentions ; and even begged to be subjected to the 
 scrutiny of any surveillance that might be thought 
 proper to prove his inoffensiveness ; any thing, so 
 
126 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 that he might but be allowed to preach. Happily 
 for him and the cause of religion, his honest coun- 
 tenance and earnest pleadings were soon powerfully 
 seconded by the fruits of his labors. One after 
 another began to suspect their servants of attend- 
 ing his preaching, not because they were made 
 worse, but wonderfully better. The effect on the 
 public morals of the negroes, too, began to be seen, 
 particularly as regarded their habits on Sunday, 
 and drunkenness. And it was not long before the 
 mob was called off by a change in the current of 
 opinion, and Evans was allowed to preach in town. 
 At that time there was not a single church edifice 
 in town, and but one congregation, (Presbyterian,) 
 who worshipped in what was called the State-house, 
 under which was the market ; and it was plainly 
 Evans or nobody to preach to the negroes. Now, 
 too, of the mistresses there were not a few, and 
 some masters, who were brought to think that the 
 preaching which had proved so beneficial to their 
 servants might be good for them also ; and the 
 famous negro preacher had some whites as well as 
 blacks to hear him. Among others, and who were 
 the first fruits, were my old friends, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Lumsden, Mrs. Bowen, (for many years Preceptress 
 of the Female Academy,) Mrs. Malsby, and, I think, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Blake. From these the gracious influ- 
 ence spread to others, and a meeting-house was 
 built. It was a frame of wood, weatherboarded 
 only on the outside without plastering, about fifty 
 feet long by thirty feet wide. Seats, distinctly 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 127 
 
 separated, were at first appropriated to the whites, 
 near the pulpit. But Evans had already become 
 famous, and these seats were insufficient. Indeed, 
 the negroes seemed likely to lose their preacher, 
 negro though he was, while the whites, crowded 
 out of their appropriate seats, took possession of 
 those in the rear. Meanwhile Evans had repre- 
 sented to the preacher of Bladen Circuit how things 
 were going, and induced him to take his meeting- 
 house into the circuit, and constitute a church 
 there. And now, there was no longer room for the 
 negroes in the house when Evans preached ; and 
 for the accommodation of both classes, the weather- 
 boards were knocked off and sheds were added to 
 the house on either side ; the whites occupying the 
 whole of the - original building, and the negroes 
 those sheds as a part of the same house. Evans's 
 dwelling was a shed' at the pulpit end of the 
 church. And that was the identical state of the 
 case when I was pastor. Often was I in that shed, 
 and much to my edification. I have known not 
 many preachers who appeared more conversant 
 with Scripture than Evans, or whose conversa- 
 tion was more instructive as to the things of God. 
 He seemed always deeply impressed with the re- 
 sponsibility of his position ; and not even our old 
 friend Castile was more remarkable for his humble 
 and deferential deportment towards the whites 
 than Evans was. Nor would he allow any partiality 
 of his friends to induce him to vary in the least 
 degree the line of conduct or the bearing which 
 
128 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 he had prescribed to himself in this respect ; never 
 speaking to a white man but with his hat under 
 his arm; never allowing himself to be seated in 
 their houses ; and even confining himself to the 
 kind and manner of dress proper for negroes in 
 general, except his plain black coat for the pulpit. 
 "The whites are kind to me, and come to hear me 
 preach," he would say, "but I belong to my own 
 sort, and must not spoil them." And yet Henry 
 Evans was a Boanerges; and in his duty feared not 
 the face of man. 
 
 I have said that he died during my stay in Fay- 
 etteville this year, (1810.) The death of such a 
 man could not but be triumphant, and his was dis- 
 tinguishingly so. I did not witness it, but was with 
 him just before he died ; and as he appeared to me, 
 triumph should express but partially the character 
 of his feelings, as the word imports exultation at a 
 victory, or at most the victory and exultation to- 
 gether. It seemed to me as if the victory he had won 
 was no longer an object, but rather as if his spirit, 
 past the contemplation of triumphs on earth, were al- 
 ready in communion with heaven. Yet his last breath 
 was drawn in the act of pronouncing 1 Cor. xv. 
 57 : " Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." It was my 
 practice to hold a meeting with the blacks in the 
 church directly after morning preaching every 
 Sunday. And on the Sunday before his death, 
 during this meeting, the little door between his 
 humble shed and the chancel where I stood was 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 129 
 
 opened, and the dying man entered for a last fare- 
 well to his people. He was almost too feeble to 
 stand at all, but supporting himself by the railing 
 of the chancel, he said: "I have come to say my 
 last word to you. It is this : None but Christ. 
 Three times I have had my life in jeopardy for 
 preaching the gospel to you. Three times I have 
 broken the ice on the edge of the water and swum 
 across the Cape Fear to preach the gospel to you. 
 And now, if in my last hour I could trust to that, 
 or to any thing else but Christ crucified, for my 
 salvation, all should be lost, and my soul perish 
 for ever." A noble testimony! "Worthy, not of 
 Evans only, but St. Paul. His funeral at the 
 church was attended by a greater concourse of 
 persons than had been seen on any funeral occasion 
 before. The whole community appeared to mourn 
 his death, and the universal feeling seemed to be 
 that in honoring the memory of Henry Evans we 
 were paying a tribute to virtue and religion. He 
 was buried under the chancel of the church of 
 which he had been in so remarkable a manner the 
 founder. 
 
 Looking back on my past life, I know no single 
 duty which I might suppose myself to have dis- 
 charged in measure and manner as I ought to have 
 done ; and if some bright spots appear in the gen- 
 eral shade, and there were instances of devotion 
 seeming to answer somewhat to my obligations, 
 they may not be relied on for my justification, but 
 6* 
 
130 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 show rather by contrast how much more has been 
 neglected than discharged. 
 
 " Jesus, thy blood and righteousness 
 My beauty are, my glorious dress." 
 
 I have often been struck with the force of that 
 particular obligation which is stated in the office 
 of the ordination of deacons : "And furthermore, 
 it is his office to search for the sick, poor, and im- 
 potent, that they may be visited and relieved," and 
 have felt painfully how deficient I have been, how 
 much less than my duty I have done. The winter 
 was coming on with uncommon severity, and 
 brother Pearce, who seemed to live for the poor, 
 suggested that we might do something in their 
 behalf, several persons whom he knew being with- 
 out sufficient clothing or blankets to keep them 
 comfortable, or even more than preserve them from 
 freezing in the coming cold weather. And it was 
 agreed on between us that we would ask our friends 
 for some trifle to assist us in this charity. I pro- 
 posed to beg the money if he would appropriate it, 
 but he would by no means take for his share of the 
 service the luxury of applying what we might ob- 
 tain, and so we went together both in the getting 
 and the giving. The money in hand, what should 
 we buy with it? And he advised to divide, it 
 equally to blankets and coarse woollens. These 
 were purchased; and the next thing, of course, 
 was to distribute them. They were large bundles, 
 requiring the shoulder; especially the blankets; 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 131 
 
 and lie shouldering the larger, showed me an ex- 
 ample with respect to the smaller. I clutched it 
 under my arm, and off we went. And why have 
 I not since spent many such a happy day as that ? 
 I remember that at one place, the house of an ap- 
 proved sister, where we left a pair of large Duffel 
 blankets and several yards of the woollen cloth, 
 there was but one whole blanket in the house, 
 which was employed as a wrapper for the poor man, 
 who, after destroying himself by intemperance, had 
 now been for several years hopelessly a paralytic, 
 requiring more of his wife's attention than a child 
 might ; while for their subsistence, and that of two 
 clever little boys of eight and ten years old, she 
 took in washing, having to bring her fuel on her 
 head, with the assistance of the little boys, a 
 mile and a half from the woods. But how could a 
 worthy member of the Church be suffered to en- 
 dure such distressing poverty? I presume just 
 because she was so worthy as to prefer suffering to 
 complaining ; and as she was always looking decent 
 at church and at class, and those who should have 
 relieved her (and would have done so had they 
 known) were occupied with their own business, 
 her wretchedness was not suspected. Brother 
 Pearce himself had no idea of the extremity of the 
 case, though often in the house, till that day. Yes, 
 " the- sick, poor, and impotent"- — those very individ- 
 uals of them who have most need of assistance and 
 have the best claims for it — may live near by us and 
 we do nothing for them, only because we do not 
 
132 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 "search" for them, and they are backward to com- 
 plain. 
 
 Few half years of my life have been spent more 
 pleasantly or more profitably than the half year in 
 Fayette ville. Alas, that I should have profited no 
 more by the many that have passed on to the judg- 
 ment since that time ! 
 
 At the close of the year I attended Conference 
 for the first time, (Dec. 22, 1810,) at Columbia, 
 South Carolina. The sessions w^ere held in the 
 parlor of the Hon. (afterwards Governor) John Tay- 
 lor, who being at Washington City, and the house 
 unoccupied, most kindly gave the use of it for this 
 purpose. In my day, therefore, the time has been - 
 when a gentleman's parlor was sufficient to accom- 
 modate a session of the South Carolina Conference ; 
 and that the time too when there was no other 
 Conference south or south-west of it : no Georgia, 
 Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, nor Louisiana Con- 
 ference ; but all the travelling preachers south of 
 the Cape Fear river belonged to this Conference. 
 At this time we had seventy-four preachers belong- 
 ing to the Conference, employed on thirty-nine 
 circuits and stations, of which twenty-four belonged 
 to South Carolina and that part of North Caro- 
 lina lying south of Cape Fear and the head- waters 
 of Yadkin ; fourteen belonged to Georgia ; and 
 there were two preachers employed as missionaries 
 in Alabama. The returns gave us seventeen thou- 
 sand seven hundred and eighty-eight whites, and 
 eight thousand two hundred and two colored mem- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 133 
 
 bers of our communion ; and in all the Conferences 
 together, including Canada, there were six hundred 
 and fifty preachers and one hundred and seventy- 
 four thousand five hundred and sixty members. I 
 was now admitted into full connection with the 
 Conference and ordained deacon. 
 
 "What most concerned me at this Conference was 
 Bishop Asbury's appeal to the preachers to induce 
 them to offer themselves for the work in the South- 
 west, which lying beyond "the wilderness," (as the 
 country from the Ocmulgee river to near the 
 Alabama was called,) and yet another wilderness 
 of the Chickasaw and Choctaw Indians beyond 
 that, seemed as remote and inaccessible as Cali- 
 fornia might seem at present. It was before the 
 dawn of the day of steamboats, and not so much 
 as a stagecoach or hack passed through the land. 
 I was deeply exercised on this subject, and after 
 passing a sleepless night, mostly on my knees, 
 called on my faithful friend and foster-father, Gass- 
 away, for counsel. He advised me to open my 
 mind to the Bishop as freely as I had done to him, 
 and leave it for his decision whether to go or not go. 
 I did so without delay, and his decision was un- 
 hesitatingly against it. "Can't sent you, Billy, 
 sugar," said the apostolic man, tenderly embracing 
 me; " you won't know how to take care of your- 
 self." A very different appointment was before 
 me, and I was sent to Charleston. 
 
 Perhaps we were rather cynical in those days ; 
 perhaps we are so still. Certainly we had no high 
 
134 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 conceit of human nature in the mass ; and we 
 may not have held each other to be incorruptible. 
 I believe our jealousy was a godly one, which, 
 though sometimes unfortunate and even unwise, if 
 not faulty, meant no evil ; and that, on the whole, 
 it was safer for the Church, though sometimes 
 severe to individuals, than the absence of it might 
 have been. Preachers (at least the younger ones) 
 were not often together for a few days without 
 giving each other a proof of love in some correc- 
 tion. It might be in their pronunciation of such 
 or such a word, some article of dress, or the way 
 the hair was combed ; or it might be something 
 more serious, touching their spirit or manners ; 
 so that we were always watching over each other, 
 and, as I believe, for good. It was a delicate duty, 
 but we deemed ourselves bound to the discharge 
 of it, on the principle of helping each other, in 
 view of our acknowledged imperfections, the sa- 
 credness of our work, and the confidential character 
 of our relation to each other. But this good 
 practice was liable to abuse by excess ; and with 
 minds unfortunately constituted, it sometimes led 
 to unpleasant suspicions. And this was the more 
 likely to be induced, since with all our readiness for 
 correction, we studiously avoided any word of 
 praise. There could be no danger of being too 
 humble, we thought, though there might be of the 
 opposite ; and above all things we should avoid 
 pride, as a preacher's greatest bane. And unfor- 
 tunately for me daring the first half of this year, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 135 
 
 my respected senior took it into his head that I 
 was so much endangered by the attentions of the 
 people, it would require all his endeavors to keep 
 me humble. We had at that time but two 
 churches belonging; to our Connection in Charles- 
 ton. These were Cumberland Street and Bethel. 
 Trinity as yet was not ours, but three preachers 
 had been sent to the city, under a stipulation with 
 the trustees of that church to take it into our 
 circuit with the others ; they managing things in 
 their own way as regarded discipline and the col- 
 lections, and engaging to pay the amount of the 
 quarterage of one preacher, (eighty dollars,) with- 
 out cost for board. And the failure of this experi- 
 ment was so utter as to induce the trustees, at the 
 expiration of the second quarter, to release them- 
 selves from their engagement, on the ground that 
 the stipulated eighty dollars could not be raised. 
 Our principal church was Cumberland Street, where 
 we had half a houseful or more in the mornings, 
 and more than the house could hold in the after- 
 noons and evenings. Bethel was not so large a 
 building, and, except in the mornings, was not so 
 well attended ; so that for the afternoons and even- 
 ings, whoever preached at Cumberland Street had 
 twice as many hearers as the preacher at Bethel. 
 Trinity, except in name, was out of the question : 
 no congregations could be got there. But my ap- 
 pointments, for several months together, kept me 
 to Bethel and Trinity for the afternoons and even- 
 ings, and Cumberland in the morning, with but 
 
136 LIFE 0 F WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 few exceptions. My name was second in the order 
 of the minutes of Conference, but for official busi- 
 ness the preacher in charge always passed me by 
 and asked assistance of my colleague, who was no 
 older than myself ; and all for no purpose under 
 heaven but to keep me humble. My excellent 
 friend, the Rev. "William M. Kennedy, was Pre- 
 siding Elder, and I asked his attention to this 
 matter. But he could only assure me that my senior 
 wished me no harm, but did it only to prevent my 
 being injured by what he called my popularity. 
 But does he not degrade me ? was a question not 
 so easily answered as that of the reason of the 
 course pursued. A slight change followed for a 
 little while only, and then the former manner of 
 rotation was renewed for the special benefit I should 
 derive from it as a counterpoise to popularity. 
 Happily for me, I believed that my senior col- 
 league was honest-hearted, though in this case in- 
 judicious ; and with the correction of what seemed 
 to me an ill-judged degradation, all was in harmony 
 and went on smoothly with us. During the many 
 years which have since, elapsed, he has abundantly 
 proved his great worth as a man and minister, 
 and I have always confided in him as a friend. 
 
 You need not be told here of the sad disabilities 
 which our ministry had fallen under, before my 
 time, in consequence of the action of the General 
 Conference, instigated by Dr. Coke, with respect 
 to slavery. . At the time of our present date, (the 
 first of my knowing any thing about it,) we lay 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 13T 
 
 under the ban of suspicion as disorganizes who 
 could not be trusted among the negroes without 
 clanger to the public peace, all along the wealthier 
 portions of the low country from Cape Fear to the 
 Savannah river. My information of those earlier 
 times is to the effect that Methodism, on its first in- 
 troduction into the low country of South Carolina, 
 was as favorably received as anywhere else in the 
 United States. If we take Charleston for an exam- 
 ple, we shall find among the names of its first 
 members, Joshua "Wells, John Stoney, Francis 
 Weston, Thomas Bennett, (father of the late Gover- 
 nor,) and others belonging to the best portion of 
 the community, even as the w r orld might judge. 
 But before my time, we had become reduced to a 
 condition of positive obscurity; and it might have 
 been said to the brethren there, not only that " not 
 many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, 
 not many noble were called," but that none were. 
 And for the country, an anecdote or two may serve 
 to illustrate the matter. Among the chief of our 
 ministers of the first race was Reuben Ellis, and 
 among the most wealthy and influential of the 
 inhabitants of Cooper river, and second in either 
 regard to but few men in the State, was Elias 
 Ball, Esq. Mr. Ellis, travelling his district, called 
 at Mr. Ball's, and was courteously entertained. 
 And the conversation turning on the good that 
 might result from preaching to the negroes, it was 
 proposed to make an experiment that evening by 
 collecting them in the spacious piazza attached 
 
138 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 to Mr. Ball's mansion, for Mr. Ellis to preach, to 
 them. He preached accordingly; and Mr. Ball 
 was so captivated with it, as to urge for another 
 evening's service. And before Mr. Ellis left, he 
 offered him a salary of six hundred dollars and his 
 board to remain permanently as his chaplain, and 
 to preach to his negroes every Sabbath day. This 
 anecdote I got from my father, who got it from Mr. 
 Ellis or Mr. Ball himself. 
 
 I cannot tell what may have carried Dr. Coke 
 there, but on that very visit to America which 
 proved so hurtful by the introduction of his aboli- 
 tion measures, he happened to visit Edisto Island, 
 (the largest and wealthiest of our sea islands,) and 
 preached. And such was the influence of his 
 visit as to induce a petition for a preacher to be 
 sent to the island. One was appointed accord- 
 ingly, but before his arrival the storm from the 
 North was upon us, and he found no place for the 
 sole of his foot. 
 
 A singular state of things ensued. We had 
 belonging to the Church in Charleston, (1811,) as 
 if raised up for the exigences of the time, some 
 extraordinary colored men. I have mentioned 
 Castile Selby; there were also Amos Baxter, Tom 
 Smith, Peter Simpson, Smart Simpson, Harry 
 Bull, Richard Holloway, Alek Harlston, and others, 
 men of intelligence and piety, who read the Scrip- 
 tures and understood them, and were zealous for 
 religion among the negroes. These were favorably 
 known in the country places, on Goose creek, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 139 
 
 Cooper river, Wando, St. Paul's Parish, St. James, 
 St. John, and Wadmalaw Islands, and even as far 
 as Pon-Pon river. I mean that in all these parts, 
 some one of them was known and approved by 
 some several of the planters, for whom they had 
 been accustomed to do work, (one as a millwright, 
 another as a carpenter or shoemaker,) or out of 
 whose estates they had been liberated, or to whom 
 or wdiose near friends they belonged. And while 
 the white man, a citizen, born and bred on the soil, 
 and even owning slaves, for being a Methodist 
 preacher was excluded, as if by some sentence of 
 outlawry, these colored men were permitted to 
 hold meetings with the negroes pretty freely : as, 
 for instance, Holloway on Goose creek, or Amos 
 Baxter on Pon-Pon. And while they might re- 
 ceive any allowance at all on the part of the plant- 
 ers, or their meetings were only winked at, they 
 received on our part the most hearty encourage- 
 ment. Our plan was to recognize them as our 
 agents. We authorized them to admit and exclude 
 members ; kept regular lists of their classes as be- 
 longing to our charge in Charleston ; (for there was 
 no other to which they could belong ;) and they re- 
 ported to us minutely on Monday what had been 
 done on Sunday. They were the only persons who 
 for Christ's sake were zealous enough to undertake 
 such a service, and who, at the same time, could 
 get access to the people that that service might be 
 rendered. And I am satisfied that we did right to 
 encourage them to the degree we did, notwith- 
 
140 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 standing we could not exactly square it either by 
 the statutes on the one hand, or the rules of Discip- 
 line on the other. Ve knew them to be good 
 men ; the work was one of the most sacred obliga- 
 tion to be done ; and this was our only alternative. 
 But how imperfect was such a half-fashioned expe- 
 dient, in comparison to the regular missionary 
 labors which have since been bestowed in the same 
 quarters, under a better condition of things ! 
 
 Under all the obloquy cast upon them, the Me- 
 thodists were, nevertheless, much esteemed. But 
 it seemed to be an esteem like that one might have 
 for inferior animals which render service, rather 
 than a recognition of their proper claims as a flock 
 of Christ's own fold. Their preaching might be 
 attended with great propriety, for almost every- 
 body did so, but who might join them? Iso, it 
 was vastly more respectable to join some other 
 Church, and still attend the preaching of the 
 Methodists, which was thought to answer all pur- 
 poses. And this has been the case long since the 
 year I am speaking of. The persons of that year 
 whom I can call to mind have gone to their 
 account ; and yet I hesitate not to say that if all 
 the individuals who have joined other Churches in 
 that city since 1811, professing to have been awak- 
 ened under the Methodist ministry, had joined the 
 Church where God met them, the Methodist Church 
 in Charleston might have ranked in worldly respects 
 with the very first, before this day. 
 
 This year we commenced preaching in the poor- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 141 
 
 house with good effect ; and the practice was kept 
 up for many years afterwards. 
 
 In September I attended a call to the country, 
 which, by God's blessing, produced the nucleus of 
 Cooper Biver Circuit. A Mr. Hale, living on the 
 main road between Clemens' s Ferry, (five miles 
 above Charleston,) and Lenud's Ferry, on Santee, 
 ten miles from the latter place, had represented 
 the destitution of preaching in his neighborhood 
 and that part of Santee, and requested that one of 
 the preachers should visit them. The lot fell on 
 me, and I found work for a week. The appoint- 
 ment was made for preaching at the house of the 
 applicant on Sunday, at eleven o'clock in the morn- 
 ing. There w 7 as a large congregation for a thinly 
 peopled country, who had not heard preaching of 
 any denomination for many years before. After 
 preaching I baptized a number of children ; and 
 the people still hanging on, as if reluctant to go 
 away, I preached a second time. The text was 
 Luke xix. 9, " This day is salvation come to this 
 house." And although the people had been kept 
 so long in attendance, and the men generally stood 
 up for want of room or seats for sitting, their atten- 
 tion never flagged ; so novel was the occasion, and 
 so truly was there a gracious influence with them. 
 In the midst of the second service, a daughter of 
 Mr. Hale cried out and sank to the floor. It pro- 
 duced but a momentary pause, and she being taken 
 into the next room, I proceeded with my discourse, 
 after remarking that it was not so surprising that one 
 
142 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Who had suddenly come to the knowledge of her 
 condition as a sinner should be overpowered by it, 
 as that so many who could not believe themselves 
 to be in a safe state should be unconcerned about 
 it. I took it to be an instance of the literal fulfil- 
 ment of the text in the case of the young lady ; 
 who, I did not doubt, would be enabled to confirm 
 what I said, when I should visit them again. At 
 the close of the service, I appointed to preach on the 
 following Friday evening at the same place, and 
 made an appointment for Tuesday at a Mr. Comp- 
 ton's, near Lenud's Ferry. At Compton's, too, 
 there was a full attendance, and an encouraging 
 prospect. Eeturning to Hale's, I found the new 
 convert exceeding happy in the love of God, and 
 the rest of the family anxiously inquiring what 
 they must do to be saved. Nor was the work con- 
 fined to them only; but their neighbors hearing 
 that the preacher's prophecy had come to pass, 
 (which was no prophecy at all, but spoken on the 
 evidence of numerous examples,) they were flock- 
 ing to see for themselves what had taken place. A 
 class was formed, and the next year my brother 
 John was. sent to form the Cooper River Circuit. 
 
 I might mention other incidents of this year 
 which were deeply interesting to myself at the 
 time. But as both they and their consequences 
 have passed away, and they might illustrate no- 
 thing of any value, I pass them by. The year 
 wound up pleasantly. We returned two hundred 
 and eighty-two whites and three thousand one hun- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 143 
 
 dred and twenty-eight colored members to the 
 Conference; and left the Church enjoying great in- 
 ternal peace, and, indeed, prosperity. 
 
 The Conference was held at Camden, December 
 21, 1811. It w^as attended by Bishop Asbury, 
 alone. The Conference session was on the whole 
 a pleasant one ; the preachers in the spirit of their 
 work, and eminently in the spirit of love. 
 
 There was one case in the course of the exam- 
 ination of candidates for full connection and 
 deacons' orders, which so remarkably illustrates 
 the economy of those times in relation to the mar- 
 riage of young preachers, (or I should rather say 
 the severity of the Conferences on that subject, 
 owing to what was conceived to be the necessity 
 of having them unmarried,) that I will relate it. 
 A. G. had travelled two years, and both of them as 
 the helper of the excellent Gassaway, and was 
 eligible to admission and election. Xo one of his 
 class stood fairer than he for piety, zeal, diligence 
 in duty, and usefulness as a preacher. ]STot the 
 shadow of an objection was there against him but 
 that he had married a wife ; who was in all re- 
 spects a suitable person, and of an excellent 
 family. And yet for this sole reason he was neither 
 admitted into full connection nor elected deacon. 
 Brother Gassaway urged with great force the au- 
 thority of 1 Timothy iii. 12. But brother Myers's 
 speech carried it against him ; the main point of 
 which was presented thus: "A young man comes 
 to us and says he is called to preach. "We answer, 
 
144 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 ' I don't know.' He comes a second time, perhaps 
 a third time, even a fourth time, saying, C A dispensa- 
 tion of the gospel is committed unto me, and woe 
 be to me if I preach not the gospel.' Then we say 
 to him, 6 Go and try.' He goes and tries, and can 
 hardly do it. We bear with him a little while, and 
 he does better. And just as we begin to hope he 
 may make a preacher, lo, he comes again to us, 
 and says, ' I must marry.' We say to him, / If you 
 marry, you will soon locate : go and preach.' c No, I 
 must marry, I must marry.' We say to him, 'A dis- 
 pensation of the gospel is committed to you, and woe 
 be unto you if you preach not the gospel.' 'But no,' 
 he says, 4 1 must marry And he marries. It is 
 enough to make an angel weep !" It will naturally 
 be supposed that brother Myers was a single man ; 
 and his speech may indicate the controlling reason 
 why he was single : he connected marriage in- 
 separably with location ; or, in other words, a 
 carrying of the question, as one between preaching 
 and marrying, against one's conviction of his duty 
 to preach. The evil which required a remedy was 
 not that the preachers took wives, but the unpro- 
 vided condition of the circuits ; which, without 
 parsonage-houses, or means or disposition to rent 
 houses for the preachers, and without a penny's 
 worth allowed for the support of families, devolved 
 on married preachers the unreasonable expense of 
 subsisting their families by their own means ; and 
 these proving insufficient for the purpose without 
 their personal labor, obliged them to desist from 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 145 
 
 travelling. And what did it profit the itinerancy 
 to bear hardly on the junior preachers for marry- 
 ing, when, in most cases, it was only to suspend 
 for a few years the coming location ? Or how 
 much less cause might there be to make "an angel 
 weep," when, for marrying after five or six years 
 in the work, an able minister was driven to locate 
 for want of subsistence for his family, than there 
 was in his doing the same thing for the same 
 cause before he had become so useful ? 
 
 My appointment for 1812 was to Orangeburg 
 Circuit; the upper division of what had been 
 called Edisto Circuit, and which was now divided 
 into Salkahatchie and Orangeburg Circuits. It 
 consisted of thirteen appointments, and was tra- 
 velled in two weeks ; including the fork of Edisto 
 for some twenty miles upward, and the societies 
 between the north fork of that river and Beaver 
 creek, and thence downward in the direction of 
 the present State road to a point opposite to the 
 village of Orangeburg, and thence to the village. 
 A pleasant circuit it was, and a desirable appoint- 
 ment ; but I was not permitted to go so immediate- 
 ly to it as to my former appointments. At this 
 Conference I was required to act as assistant sec- 
 retary, brother Kennedy being the Secretary. And 
 the day after the session closed, when he would 
 have furnished the Bishop with the papers neces- 
 sary for publishing the minutes, that very import- 
 ant one, the returns of the numbers in society, could 
 not be found. I was directed therefore to make 
 7 
 
146 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 haste back to Camden, (for we were then at Reni- 
 bert's,) and search the Conference room for it ; and if 
 I could not find it there, to pursue after either of the 
 preachers who might have taken a copy, and meet 
 the Bishop at such a time, at such a place, with the? 
 lost paper, or a copy, as the case might be. How 
 could such a paper have been lost? I was in- 
 volved in the fault; and that, too, on the first 
 occasion of such a service. My horse was a good 
 one, the best I have ever had ; and I went after 
 the lost paper, (which at last proved not to have 
 been lost,) as if to recover it had been a matter of 
 the last importance. It was not in the Conference 
 room ; but some one had seen a brother who was 
 sent to the extreme corner of the Conference dis- 
 trict taking a copy of it; and off I went for Bun- 
 combe county, North Carolina. The weather was 
 of the worst, and exceeding cold, and my brother 
 had nearly two days start of me ; but on the fourth 
 day I had overtaken him, got what he had of the 
 lost numbers, and was on my way back. But so 
 hard a ride through wet and freezing weather, and 
 without sufficient clothing, had well-nigh knocked 
 me up, so that I had to lose as much time as my 
 rapid travelling had gained, (two days,) to relieve 
 myself of a fever and incessant cough. Still there 
 was time for me to meet the Bishop as he had ap- 
 pointed; and I was off again to do so. I have 
 never been on any errand, nor engaged on any 
 other business, which absorbed my attention more 
 intensely than the present. I had thought of no- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 147 
 
 thing else. So that when I discovered that to meet 
 the Bishop's appointment must almost necessarily 
 carry me to the house of the little girl whose love- 
 liness had so enraptured me two years before, and 
 who might now be grown up, it seemed a coin- 
 cidence too strange to have been brought about by 
 accident. If I had thought of it, I might have 
 arranged, to be sure, for the same coincidence. 
 But I had not thought of it. No idea of the sort 
 had entered my mind, till I found myself cal- 
 culating distances and stages on this renewal of 
 my journey, and found, as by chance, that my 
 second night must be passed at the house of my old 
 friend Richard Green, Esq., of Black River, in 
 Georgetown District, whose stepdaughter Anna 
 "White was. I saw her, I loved her with an all- 
 pervading passion, and she consented to become 
 my wife. Nor did I delay my journey ; but met 
 the Bishop, (who found the lost paper within 
 an hour after I left him,) and was dismissed 
 for my circuit with his blessing. Another even- 
 ing on my way with her who was become, as by 
 magic, the soul of my soul, and life of my life, and I 
 was off for my circuit. I could not, however, 
 reach there so soon. Snows (for whatever reason) 
 were more frequent then than latterly in South 
 Carolina ; and since the two days' confinement at 
 my father's, by cold, I had had another day's 
 ride in the snow, so that a week was lost, as those 
 two days had been, on my way to the Orangeburg 
 Circuit. 
 
148 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 The first quarter passed off exceeding well, and, 
 indeed, for all the time of my labors in this circuit 
 I might say the same, but for an unfortunate in- 
 volvement at the Quarterly Conference closing the 
 first quarter. Among the last acts of my prede- 
 cessor before leaving the circuit, and after the 
 fourth Quarterly Meeting had been held, was a 
 trial, involving great general interest, of a highly 
 respectable member of the Church at a place then 
 called Zeigler's, on an allegation brought by another 
 belonging to the society at Tabernacle. These 
 were the two most numerous and important socie- 
 ties in the circuit, Tabernacle being the first, and 
 this affair had involved connections on either side, 
 so that it had become little less than a general dis- 
 turbance between the societies as well as an alter- 
 cation between the individuals. On that first 
 investigation it had been given against the member 
 at Zeigler's, and he appealed to the Quarterly Con- 
 ference. This Quarterly Conference was the first 
 in my year. The appeal consumed much time, the 
 case being somewhat intricate, and the witnesses, 
 pro and con, not a few. A sort of summing up of 
 the testimony was called for, and the Presiding 
 Elder, declining it himself, asked it of me. I 
 ought not to have attempted it, but his suggestion 
 seemed to be approved, and for the sole reason of 
 obliging my senior I did attempt it. This involved 
 me in the censure of those who were on the side of 
 the accuser, and in whose judgment the evidence 
 on the other side deserved no consideration; and, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 149 
 
 notwithstanding the Presiding Elder's opinion that 
 I had been impartial and rehearsed fully the whole 
 case, I had to suffer a little for it. In the order of 
 my round I came first to Zeigler's, next to Wan- 
 namaker's, (now called Prospect, I think,) and then 
 to Tabernacle ; and at Zeigler's I got a note from 
 brother 0. P., of the adjoining circuit, (Congaree,) 
 informing me that such and such principal men 
 belonging to Tabernacle had waited on him in 
 behalf of the society, requesting him to take their 
 church into his circuit, for the reason that the 
 people of Tabernacle would no longer attend my 
 ministry. And the reason of this reason was that, 
 on the hearing of the appeal at the Quarterly Con- 
 ference, I had given such a one-sided and perverted 
 view of it as proved that the defendant's pretty 
 sister had more influence with me than my con- 
 science. And my good brother and co-laborer w T as 
 so considerate as to advise me not to suffer any 
 personal feelings to weigh with me to the loss of 
 souls. Of course I would not ; and only answered 
 him that we had no authority, even at the instiga- 
 tion of the people, to transfer appointments from 
 circuit to circuit ; that I would not vindicate my- 
 self in the matter complained of, nor acknowledge 
 any fault, being conscious of none ; but that he 
 might preach at Tabernacle in my place until my 
 Presiding Elder, who was gone or about going to 
 the General Conference, should return and see to it. 
 Two days after, I attended in course on the for- 
 bidden ground, and had very few to hear me. 
 
150 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Them I told that I should not return there for some 
 time, but that in the meanwhile brother R., of the 
 Congaree Circuit, would preach in my stead. And I 
 gave out his appointment for a certain day. But 
 on my second round of two weeks each, how great 
 was my surprise at seeing in my congregation at 
 Wannamaker's the very men who had been to 
 brother E. to induce him to take their society in 
 his circuit, and become their pastor on the ground 
 of my unworthiness ; and still more, to learn 
 from them that their object in coming was to induce 
 me to return to them as at first. Was it to add 
 insult to injury that they did this ? By no means, 
 they assured me; but because they were convinced 
 that they had done very wrong, and everybody 
 knew it. It appeared that a sudden and great re- 
 vulsion had taken place by means of an eminently 
 pious old sister. It is a curious story, and I will 
 relate it: Brother R. had preached his first ser- 
 mon, and was meeting class, when, calling the 
 name of this particular sister, and asking her how 
 her soul prospered, she answered that it had never 
 been worse with her than it then was, and she ex- 
 pected it to be no better" while he continued to 
 preach there. She did not wish to offend him, but 
 he was not her preacher. " When," continued she, 
 "I first joined the Church, it distressed me very 
 much that the preacher had to go away, and he 
 told me that if I would set apart a day for prayer 
 and fasting, and would pray for it daily during 
 Conference, the Lord would send me a preacher 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 151 
 
 who should be to me the same as he had been. I 
 did as he told me to do, and the Lord sent me a 
 preacher. And I have been doing so ever since, 
 and the Lord has always sent me a preacher. I 
 did so this year, and the Lord sent me brother 
 Capers, just as he had sent the rest ; but I don't 
 know, brother, who sent you. One thing I know, 
 you are not my preacher. You belong to the Con- 
 garee people for this year, and brother Capers is 
 our preacher." And so, "for the divisions of 
 Reuben there were great searchings of heart." 
 They knew not my secret,- or they had spared them- 
 selves. 
 
 But to return to the brethren who had met me 
 at Wannamaker's. I would not consent to resume 
 my appointments at Tabernacle without seeing for 
 myself that justice had been done me with the 
 community; but I did consent that they might 
 make an appointment for preaching there of an 
 evening on my next round, when I would decide 
 what to do. At the time, I had a large congrega- 
 tion ; and the late malcontents seemed to vie with 
 those who had been most grieved on my account, 
 in their attentions to me. I resumed my ap- 
 pointments : Tabernacle, as at first, continued the 
 head of the circuit; and, I might have forgiven 
 the wrong, if only for the evidence it furnished, 
 that travelling preachers might not be less liable 
 to difficulties for being unmarried. 
 
 On this circuit I had every thing which a preacher 
 might desire for contentment. There was work 
 
152 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 enough, and my appointments well attended; at 
 almost every place I had affectionate Christian 
 friends, whose worth I was prepared to estimate, 
 and whom I loved sincerely ; with one slight excep- 
 tion, my health was excellent; and, above all, my 
 labors were not in vain. "What gave me most con- 
 cern, was an habitual unbelief as to my Christian 
 experience. Not that I ever doubted the genuine- 
 ness of my conversion, and that I had received the 
 witness of the Spirit at the time before given ; nor 
 that I had again and again, on a great many occa- 
 sions, enjoyed manifestations of the grace of God, 
 as revealed in the gospel ; but the question of per- 
 plexity was as to the character of that state in 
 which I frequently found myself, when I might not 
 be able to assure myself that all was well, for want 
 of some special manifestation to assure me. Itw^as 
 not a question of the past, but of the present time ; 
 and of the present, not as it might be connected 
 with the past, but as in itself it stood related to the 
 future judgment for my justification or the reverse. 
 Was I not " every moment pleasing or displeasing 
 to God?" And if so, what was the character of 
 my state at those moments, hours, or days, in which 
 I felt not assured by its separate experience of my 
 being at that time a child of God ? Such questions 
 I was apt to examine in a light too strictly legal ; 
 or else with an undue regard to emotions, rather 
 than to principles and motives ; and hence I was 
 still liable to the pain of what I have called an 
 I habitual unbelief as to my Christian state. .1 could 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 153 
 
 not be satisfied with myself, not only as it regards 
 a comparison of what one is to what one might 
 be, but of what one is to what one has been, in 
 respect of a feeling of assurance. It was in this 
 frame of mind that I went to a camp-meeting, 
 about midsummer, on Four Holes, just above the 
 bridge on the old Orangeburg road ; deeply im- 
 pressed with my want of holiness, both for my own 
 happiness, and that my ministry might be profitable 
 to the people. This meeting was one of the very 
 best. At first I proposed to myself not to be active 
 in it, but to give myself as much as possible to 
 retirement and prayer, after hearing the sermons 
 from time to time. On this plan I passed several 
 days uncomfortably ; and instead of more light and 
 love, found my mind more and more perplexed. I 
 saw my error, and corrected it by going earnestly 
 to work for others ; and was much relieved, though 
 still unsatisfied. The meeting closed, and left me 
 to return to my circuit, lacking in faith, in love, in 
 the assurance of the Holy Spirit, and not, as I had 
 hoped, strong and exultant. I had never since my 
 conversion felt more dissatisfied with myself than 
 I did as, riding pensively along the road to my 
 circuit, I reviewed the history, both of the meeting, 
 and of my purposes and feelings in going to it and 
 during its continuance : how much I had needed; 
 how little I had obtained : with what strong de- 
 sire I had anticipated it, as a time of extraordinary 
 blessing, and to what little purpose it had been 
 improved. Should I return to the labors of my 
 7* 
 
154 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 circuit still unrefreshed, like Gideon's fleece, dry 
 in the midst of the dew of heaven ? "Why was it 
 so ? Had I made an idol of the camp-meeting, 
 trusting to means of any sort in place of the all- 
 quickening Spirit ? And I turned aside into a thick 
 wood, saying to myself, There is none here but God 
 only, and I cannot thus uncomfortable go back to 
 my circuit; I will even go to Him alone who has 
 all power in heaven and earth, and who has called 
 the heavy-laden unto him that they may find rest. 
 Jesus, Master, heal my blindness ! Give me faith 
 and love ! I still remember how, as I hitched my 
 horse, I felt to pity him for the long fast he should 
 have to keep before he might be unloosed. But it 
 was not so. I had scarcely fallen on my knees, 
 .with my face to the ground, before Heb. xii. 18, 19, 
 22, 23, 24, was applied with power to my mind: 
 " For ye are not come unto the mount that might 
 be touched, and that burned with fire, nor unto 
 blackness, and darkness, and tempest, and the 
 
 sound of a trumpet, and the voice of words 
 
 But ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the 
 city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and 
 to an innumerable company of angels, to the 
 General Assembly and Church of the first-born 
 which are written in heaven, and to God the J udge 
 of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, 
 and to Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant, 
 and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better 
 things than that of Abel'/' In that moment how 
 spiritual seemed religion, how intimate the connec- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 155 
 
 tion between earth and heaven, grace and glory, 
 the Church militant and the Church triumphant! 
 And it seemed to challenge my consent to leave 
 the one for the other ; as if it had been proposed 
 to me, Would you give up all who are below for 
 those who are above, and count it now a high 
 privilege to have come literally and absolutely to 
 mingle with the innumerable company of angels, 
 and spirits of just men made perfect, in the hea- 
 venly Jerusalem, the city of the living God ? And 
 instinct said no, and ail the loved ones on earth 
 seemed to say no ; but the words sounded to my 
 heart above the voice of earth and instinct, " Ye 
 are come!" and my spirit caught the transport, and 
 echoed back to heaven, "Ye are cornel" In that 
 moment I felt, as can only be felt, "the exceeding 
 riches of his grace in his kindness toward us 
 through Christ - Jesus." I returned to my circuit 
 with my strength renewed as the eagle's, full of 
 faith and comfort. Nevertheless, I did not per- 
 ceive that increase of power attending my preach- 
 ing which my former view^s of the reason of my 
 lack of success had induced me to expect. Things 
 went on much as before : sinners remained sinners 
 still, and backsliders were backsliders still. Our 
 class-meetings only, seemed to have much improved. 
 Idolatry in its most subtle forms is but idolatry; 
 and I had to learn what St. Peter meant (Acts iii. 
 12) by saying, " Why look ye so earnestly on us, 
 as though by our own power or holiness we had 
 made this man to walk?" The miracle had been 
 
156 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 wrought by the power of God ; and on the part of the 
 apostle, simple faith, which looked away from all 
 within himself to Christ, was the instrument of 
 taking hold on that power which Christ alone could 
 exercise, for the accomplishment of a Divine work. 
 This faith was not holiness, nor was Peter's holi- 
 ness that faith. True, such a faith might not be 
 exercised by an unholy man ; but still it was not 
 holiness, but simply faith. And it would not be 
 his holiness which had been the instrument of a 
 Divine work, because the holiness was his, substan- 
 tively ; a possession of grace which God had given 
 him, and which the Spirit of God kept whole in 
 him, but which, nevertheless, was distinctively 
 Peter's holiness. It was not because Peter was so 
 holy a man, but simply because he believed in 
 Christ, who had called him to the apostleship, that 
 the lame man was healed. The difference is as to 
 the object of each : the holiness of Peter directing 
 attention to him as a man sufficiently well qualified ; 
 while his faith points wholly to the Saviour as the 
 only and all-sufficient operator. For nothing that 
 Peter was, but for what Christ was, the miracle had 
 been wrought; Peter simply apprehending the 
 power and compassion of his Lord, and speaking 
 the word -as from his own lips, "In the name of 
 Jesus Ofirist of Nazareth, rise up and walk." 
 
 I make these remarks on a point which was of 
 some consequence to myself at least; not as under- 
 valuing holiness — far from it — but as indicating the 
 source of all the perplexities of the past time. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 15T 
 
 First, I could do no good because I was doubtful 
 of being called to preach. Then I could do almost 
 none at all, because I was so deficient as to Chris- 
 tian experience. When in heaviness through mani- 
 fold temptations, it had seemed presumptuous to 
 preach ; and when satisfied of my personal justifi- 
 cation, it was not much better, by reason of my 
 lacking holiness. And now that I was enabled to 
 "rejoice evermore," I might not give it a name, 
 because the proof was not sufficient to sustain the 
 name in my still scanty success. Nor was this all: 
 I might not look for fruit now ; for if I should have 
 any great success, it might betray me into self- 
 confidence, as if it resulted naturally from my im- 
 proved spiritual condition, and was not, as it needs 
 must be, the work of God only. So true is it, that 
 much light does not imply much love, nor much 
 love much light ; and that in any state we may ex- 
 pect temptation. Or, if it should be thought that 
 these discouragements of mine, first and last, were 
 only proofs of immaturity, it must be confessed 
 that riper minds have had their questions too. 
 How conies it that X. should be distinguished 
 among his brethren as a revivalist, when perhaps 
 he exhibits no evidence of greater piety than the 
 rest, or is even less sanctified than most of them 
 are ? It may not be on account of his eloquence ; 
 for he may not be an eloquent man ; and if he is, 
 eloquence is manifestly incompetent to the work. 
 But we may perceive that whoever he is, and what- 
 ever his accomplishments may be, he is sure to aim 
 
158 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 simply at his object. " He goes for getting people 
 converted." And what lie "goes for" lie 'is apt to 
 succeed at, because lie believes the gospel can 
 convert them, and will do it. And does it require 
 much depth of piety to believe this ? Is it won- 
 derful that even an imperfect believer, in view of the 
 whole compass of revealed truth, should believe as 
 much ? But he believes also that it will be done at 
 the time present. And why not at the present time, 
 if at all? " One day is with the Lord as a thousand 
 years, and a thousand years as one day." But so 
 before the dispensation of the Spirit had been fully 
 given, or Jesus glorified, when he taught his disci- 
 ples (Luke xvii. 3) that they must forgive all tres- 
 passes, and to any number of times, they exclaimed, 
 " Lord, increase our faith!" as if they might not 
 have faith enough for that ; though when he had 
 sent them to "heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, 
 raise the dead, and cast out devils," they made no 
 difficulty about it, but went straight to do as they had 
 been bid, and did it. Have what else we may, or 
 may not have, we must have faith that we may do 
 any thing in the name of Christ ; and faith with 
 respect to that very thing which is proposed to be 
 done, that he will do it, and at that very time. Nor 
 would I say that good cannot be done by means of 
 a preacher who has not faith, when on the part 
 of the hearer there exist right dispositions, and he 
 is shut up to the necessity of hearing him or none. 
 I could not say so, but I could say that it is not 
 God's method to carry on his work by such men. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 159 
 
 The old Jews might find it profitable to attend the 
 teaching of the Scribes who sat in Moses' seat; 
 the goodness of the truths taught countervailing 
 the unworthiness of the persons teaching; but 
 God's purpose w T as to have better men to teach his 
 word. The exception is not the rule. Nor, indeed, 
 is this the question, w T hich looks not to a possibility 
 of profit to well-disposed minds waiting to be fed 
 by the word, but to those who may not be so well- 
 disposed, and with respect to whom the gospel is 
 to operate in its aggressive character. It is a ques- 
 tion as to how a preacher should preach so as to 
 turn sinners to God ; and my answer is, that be- 
 lieving himself to be called to that work, he should 
 believe that God will work by him, and work now, 
 and preach as if he believed it. 
 
 I was not permitted to continue to the end of 
 the year in this pleasant circuit, but was called to 
 the bedside of my father in the month of Septem- 
 ber, to whom afterwards my duty became due till 
 his death. This event, which filled me with ex- 
 treme sorrow, was quickly followed by a sore trial. 
 I had entered into an engagement of marriage, 
 with a purpose of locating at the approaching Con- 
 ference, and the time subsequently fixed for the 
 nuptials was the 13th of January ensuing. But 
 the reasons for my locating had been entirely re- 
 moved by my father's death, so that I could not do 
 so and be clear in my conscience. Might I, then, 
 locate on the ground of having formed that en- 
 gagement ? And if not, was there any probability 
 
160 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 of marrying at all? Could I hope that my 
 betrothed would marry a travelling preacher, as 
 the itinerancy was then circumstanced? Locate I 
 could not. Nothing had been stipulated as to 
 location, and any allusion to it had been made with 
 reference to that one only cause, which existed no 
 longer. But could I, at almost the very period of 
 marrying my first love, for whom I felt an affection 
 as intense and exclusive as nature knows, could I 
 jeopard all by a new condition, and one, too, so ex- 
 ceeding hard as the present was ? The interval be- 
 tween the death of my father and the session of Con- 
 ference allowed of but a brief visit on my way to the 
 Conference. Conscience had triumphed ; but ter- 
 rible was the suspense till I might know what that 
 triumph was to cost me. The cost, however, I 
 found to be no more than a smile of sweet approval. 
 
 Conference was held in Charleston late in the 
 month of December. At this I was ordained elder, 
 by Bishop McKendree, in Bethel church, Sunday, 
 December 26th, 1812, having completed four years 
 from the time of my admission on trial. My ap- 
 pointment was fixed for "Wilmington, North Carolina. 
 At the appointed time, (Thursday evening, January 
 13th, 1813,) I w^as married to Miss Anna White, 
 daughter of John White, Esq., (deceased,) of George- 
 town District ; and on the following Monday we set 
 out for Wilmington, and reached it on Friday the 
 21st. We had been there but a week or two when we 
 had the honor of entertaining Bishop Asbury and 
 his excellent attendant, brother Boehm, who passed 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 161 
 
 a Sabbath in Wilmington. These were our first 
 guests in our first dwelling-place, the parsonage, 
 which I might call either a two-story dwelling- 
 house, or a shanty, according to my humor. It 
 was a two-story house, actually erected in that 
 form, and no mistake, with its first story eight feet 
 high, and the second between six and seven ; 
 quite high enough for a man to stand in it with 
 his hat off, as men always ought to stand when in 
 a house. The stories, to be sure, were not exces- 
 sive as to length and breadth any more than height; 
 each story constituting a room of some eighteen 
 feet by twelve or fourteen, and the upper one 
 having the benefit of a sort of step-ladder on the 
 outside of the edifice, to render it accessible when 
 it might not rain too hard, or with an umbrella 
 when it did rain, if the wind did not blow too hard. 
 And besides this, there was a room constructed by 
 a shed at one side of the main building, which, as 
 madam might not relish going out of doors and up 
 a step-ladder on her way to bed, especially in rainy 
 weather, was appropriated to her use as a bed- 
 chamber. But we were content. A palace might 
 scarcely have been appreciated by us, who, by the 
 grace of God, had in ourselves and each other a 
 sufficiency for happiness. This house, the church, 
 (a coarse wooden structure, of some sixty feet by 
 forty,) the lots they stood on, and several adjoining 
 lots, rented to free negroes, had belonged to Mr. 
 Meredith, and had been procured, for the most part, 
 by means of penny collections among the negroes, 
 
162 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 who almost exclusively had composed his congre- 
 gation. He had been a Wesleyan missionary to 
 the negroes of one of the West India Islands, I 
 think Jamaica or St. Kit's. And after Mr. Hammett 
 came over to Charleston, and had got under way in 
 his enterprise of establishing a pure "Wesleyan 
 Church, in opposition to the Asburyan, as he called 
 it, he induced Mr. Meredith to come over also and 
 join him. But he was not long satisfied with Mr. 
 Hammett, whose influence over him was sufficient 
 to prevent him from joining the Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church, but could not retain him among the 
 " Primitive Methodists," as Mr. Hammett called 
 his followers. And so, parting with Mr. Hammett, 
 he came to Wilmington, and began preaching to 
 the negroes. Here his history was very like that 
 of the colored man, Henry Evans, at Fayetteville. 
 He was subjected to all manner of annoyances, and 
 even injuries, which he bore with unresisting meek- 
 ness till he had worn his persecutors out. At one 
 time he was put in jail, and he obliged them to let ~ 
 him out by preaching through the grates of his 
 window to whoever might be in the street below. 
 And when, after several years, things becoming 
 more quiet, he ventured to build a meeting-house, 
 it was burned to the ground. At last, however, 
 Mr. Meredith gained the public confidence, and at 
 his death willed in fee simple to Bishop Asbur}^ a 
 second meeting-house built on. the site of the first, 
 the parsonage-house above described, and the lands 
 belonging to them ; all which, of course, the 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 163 
 
 Bishop turned over to the Church ; which, along 
 with the property, acquired also the congregation 
 and communicant members. 
 
 This case of the labors and persecutions of Mr. 
 Meredith in Wilmington, like that of Henry Evans 
 in Payetteville, illustrates as strikingly as any thing 
 else might which has occurred in our country, how 
 sadly the spiritual wants of the negroes had been 
 overlooked in early times. A numerous popula- 
 tion of this class in that town and vicinity were as 
 destitute of any public instruction, (or, probably, 
 instruction of any kind as to spiritual things,) as 
 if they had not been believed to be men at all, and 
 their morals were as depraved as, with such a des- 
 titution of the gospel, among them, might have 
 been expected ; and yet it seems not to have been 
 considered that such a state of things might fur- 
 nish motives sufficient to induce pure-minded men 
 to engage, at great inconvenience and even per- 
 sonal hazard, in the work of reforming them. 
 Such a work, on the other hand, seems to have 
 been regarded unnecessary, if not unreasonable. 
 Conscience was not believed to be concerned in it. 
 And, unhappily, that fatal action of our General 
 Conference, by which it had assumed the right of 
 interfering, at least by memorial and remonstrance 
 to the Legislatures, with the civil condition of the 
 negroes, had aroused apprehension for the public 
 safety. The opposition to Mr. Meredith is not, 
 therefore, to be wondered at, though deeply to be 
 * regretted; and the feet that it ceased when the pub- 
 
164 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 lie mind had become satisfied of the harmlessness 
 of his labors, shows that it did not proceed from 
 any worse motive than an apprehension of evil. 
 
 At the time of my going to Wilmington, Mr. 
 Meredith's church and people had been transferred 
 to Mr. Asbury's care, and incorporated . with the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church as a portion of it. 
 Nevertheless, the offence of the cross had not 
 ceased. It seemed to be admitted on all hands 
 that the Methodists were, on the whole, a good sort 
 of enthusiasts, and their religion very well suited 
 to the lower classes, who needed to be kept con- 
 stantly in terror of hell-fire. For the negroes, in 
 particular, it was deemed most excellent. For as 
 it was looked upon as substituting passion for prin- 
 ciple, and feeling for the law of God, yet so as to 
 make its passion a religious one, and its feeling a 
 matter of conscience, and both to be in a ferment 
 of zeal against all manner of sin, it was thought 
 exactly to suit those whose passions were the 
 strongest and their understanding weakest. The 
 negro church, or meeting-house, was a common 
 appellative for this Methodist church long after it 
 had been occupied by whites on the lower floor, 
 with the negroes in the galleries. And it was so 
 in my day. But notwithstanding all this, gentle- 
 men and ladies, of high position in society, were 
 to be found from Sabbath to Sabbath attending our 
 preaching. Could it have been that they wanted 
 to participate in the Methodist religion of passion 
 without principle ? Or was it that their superior 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 165 
 
 sort of religion having taught them to condescend 
 to men of low estate, they were only practicing the 
 principle of humility? However it may have been 
 with them, the sermons they heard for the whole 
 year from my pulpit were taken up in stating, 
 proving, and urging justification by faith, and its 
 cognate doctrines of original depravity, regenera- 
 tion, and the witness of the Spirit. These themes 
 appeared inexhaustible to the preacher, and this 
 portion of his hearers never grew less for his dwell- 
 ing on them, though they wondered how such 
 things could possibly be true. It cost them, how- 
 ever, some disquietude, of which you may take the 
 following for a sample: Mrs. Gr., of the first class 
 of the upper sort, had become so much interested 
 in what she had heard, as to seek a conversation 
 with me under cover of a call on Mrs. Capers ; 
 and Mrs. W., her sister, deemed it prudent to ac- 
 company her, for the reason, I suppose, that she 
 (Mrs. W.) held her understanding to be better than 
 her sister's, and that she was better established in 
 the old creed. The conversation, therefore, was 
 conducted, for the most part, by Mrs. "W., who 
 thought it impossible for me actually to mean that 
 common people could know their sins forgiven 
 since the apostles* day. Statement after statement 
 was made on my part, and passage upon passage 
 quoted from the Scriptures; while she continued to 
 reply almost in the very words of Mcodemus, 
 "How can these things be ?" Mrs. Gr., meanwhile, 
 was showing pretty unmistakable symptoms of un- 
 
166 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 easiness, as if she apprehended that their unbelief 
 might not be sufficient to "make the faith of God 
 without effect," when, as a last resort, Mrs. W., 
 turning to Mrs. Capers, said, "Well, Mrs. Capers, 
 it must be a very high state of grace this which 
 your husband talks about, and I dare say some very 
 saintly persons may have experienced it, but as for 
 us, it must be quite above our reach. I am sure 
 you do not profess it, do you?" Mrs. C. blushed 
 deeply, and replied in a soft but firm tone of voice, 
 "Yes, ma'am, I experienced it at Rembert's camp- 
 meeting, year before last, and by the grace of God 
 I still have the witness of it." And I will add, 
 that if Mrs. W. felt discomfited, Mrs. G. lost not 
 the benefit of that interview, but obtained the 
 same grace, and died not long afterwards in the 
 peace and comfort which it inspires. 
 
 In addition to my work in Wilmington, and 
 as a part of my pastoral charge, there was a meet- 
 ing-house on the Sound, across the neck of land 
 between Cape Fear and the sea, eight miles from 
 town, which I preached at on "Wednesdays. It 
 was a cabin of pine poles notched into each other, 
 which that saintly young minister, Richmond Nol- 
 ley, had built, mostly with his own hands, when 
 stationed at Wilmington, for the use (if they 
 would use it) and benefit (if they would be bene- 
 fited by it) of the lowest and laziest set of white 
 people that it has been my fortune to fall in With.- 
 They had come from nobody knew where, and 
 squatted in little huts about the margin of the 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 167 
 
 Sound, (on lands which I suppose no one cared to 
 pay taxes for, and not an acre of which they meant 
 to cultivate,) for the benefit of living without 
 labor, or as nearly so as possible. And their mode 
 of subsistence was by catching fish, which they 
 took with a seine once or twice a week, and taking 
 them to market, purchased, by the sale of them, 
 bacon, meal, and whisky, or rather, whisky, 
 meal, and bacon. I generally found them, if I 
 found them at all, basking in the sun, or lounging 
 in the shade ; and such as I could induce to go 
 with me to the meeting-house constituted my con- 
 gregations. I could do nothing for them ; but 
 though I still eked out the time of serving them, I 
 did not return them to the Conference as belonging 
 to our charge. 
 
 Such were the extremes of character and con- 
 dition with which I had to do. Of my flock in 
 town, while much the greater number were negroes, 
 the whites were very poor, or barely able to sup- 
 port themselves with decency. Here, too, none of 
 the wise men after the flesh, nor mighty, nor noble 
 were called. Indeed, of the men of this class, I 
 know not that there was one, and believe that if 
 one, there was but one, who belonged to any Church 
 at all as a communicant. They were, very gene- 
 rally at least, too much tinctured with the French 
 deistical philosophy for that. Of churches in the 
 town, claiming for mine to be one, there was but 
 one other, the Protestant Episcopal Church, of 
 which the Rev. Adam Empie was rector. Com- 
 
168 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 paring numbers between the churches as to white 
 members communing in each. I had the advantage 
 of Mr. (since Dr.) Empie ; having some ten or a 
 dozen males to his doubtful one, while the females 
 may have been about equally divided as to num- 
 bers ; giving him, however, and his Church, the 
 prestige of worldly wealth and honor. For support, 
 as far as any was to be had, I was dependent mainly 
 on my colored charge, whose class collections, 
 added to the collection which was made in the 
 congregation weekly, may have produced six or 
 seven dollars a week for all purposes. I had not 
 expected such a deficiencj^, and was not provided 
 against it ; and before I could command means 
 from home, my very last penny was expended. 
 What small things may prove important to us, and 
 incidents of little moment in themselves, interest 
 us deeply by their connections. Here was one. 
 It happened that I had carried to market and ex- 
 pended for a fish, (because it was the cheapest 
 food,) the last penny I possessed. And this was 
 on the morning of the day when I should expect 
 the Presiding Elder on his first quarterly round ; 
 and that Presiding Elder was Daniel Asbury, who 
 had sustained the same relation to me during my 
 first two years, and was beloved and honored next 
 to brother Gassaway. And there was no place for 
 him but the parsonage ; or if there was for himself, 
 there was not for his horse. In such circumstances 
 nothing might seem easier than to meet the emer- 
 gency by borrowing. But should I go to a bank 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 169 
 
 to borrow so little as a dollar or two ? And of my 
 flock I feared to ask a loan of so much, lest it 
 should be more than my brother could spare, and 
 for the pain it should give him should he not be 
 able to oblige me in so small a matter and so great 
 a need ; and as the least of the evils before me, I 
 concluded to await my friend's coming, and borrow 
 from himself what might be heeded during his 
 stay. He came in time for a share of the fish at 
 dinner, but before it had been produced paid me 
 two hundred dollars which had been sent, very 
 unexpectedly, by him for my use. If it had been 
 but two dollars, I cannot tell the value I should 
 have put upon it ; but to receive two hundred dol- 
 lars just at that juncture, made me rich indeed. 
 
 In ihe month of June I suffered an extreme 
 illness of bilious fever, insomuch that my life was 
 well-nigh despaired of ; and as soon as I could get 
 into a carriage and ride to the wharf, my physician 
 sent me to Smithville to facilitate convalescence. 
 You will remember that this was during the war 
 with Great Britain ; and a few days after we had 
 arrived at Smithville, the jiews was brought of 
 the enemy having landed at Ocracock and per- 
 petrated many outrages. The facts truly stated 
 were bad enough to excite alarm, as we had rea- 
 son to expect that Wilmington would be the next 
 point of attack ; or Smithville rather, on the way 
 to "Wilmington ; but as the story was told with 
 great exaggerations, nothing might be more terri- 
 fying than this intelligence was. We therefore 
 8 
 
170 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 took the first packet for our return to "Wilmington, 
 intending to place Mrs. Capers for safety with our 
 friends, Francis A. Allston and sisters, on Town 
 creek, ten miles off from Wilmington, and nearly 
 as far from the Cape Fear river. Having done- 
 this, my purpose was to return immediately to 
 Wilmington, to meet with my people whatever 
 might come. No time was lost in the execution of 
 my plan as far as respected Mrs. Capers ; but the 
 weather was wet, and the night of our arrival at 
 brother Allston's, the next day, and following 
 night, gave us such a flood of rain as had not been 
 known for several years. On the second day I set 
 out for Wilmington, and getting to the South 
 Ferry, learned that the freshet had carried away so 
 much of the causeway between that plac.e and 
 town, that a horse could not be got over it, and 
 the only practicable way of going would be on 
 foot. The distance to the North Ferry (at town) 
 was two miles, all under water, and much of it 
 knee-deep, or more, besides the liability of falling 
 between the loosened or removed puncheons, and 
 getting wet all over. The day was hot, and it was 
 noon, with the sun beaming forth without a cloud ; 
 nor was there tree or shrub for shade. I sent my 
 horse back, and undertook it. A fever came on 
 before I had gone far, and I suffered a burning 
 thirst. To drink the water of the swamp I was 
 afraid ; but, luckily for me, my kind friends had 
 given me a bottle of a strong decoction of cherry 
 bark, dogwood, and hoarhound, for me to take 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 171 
 
 by the wineglassful as a tonic ; and bitter as it 
 was I drank it up, applying the bottle to my 
 lips, of very thirst. I got to the house of sister 
 Howe, in Wilmington, and to bed ; sweated off 
 my fever, and had no more of it. The British 
 never came. 
 
 Can you now have patience for another witch 
 story ? There were two old negro women belong- 
 ing to the Church in Wilmington, (Clarinda and 
 Lucy,) who had been held in high esteem from the 
 beginning ; and, indeed, except for this witchcraft 
 affair, deserved the reputation of being as good 
 as the best of our colored members. But Cla- 
 rinda fell under a persuasion that Lucy was a 
 witch, and had such proofs of it as poor old Lucy 
 could not disprove. The question between them 
 w^as of long standing, as to the general charge, 
 and the specifications numerous: of which, such 
 as had transpired more than a year before had 
 been adjudicated by my predecessor; who gave 
 sentence that there was no such thing as witch or 
 witchcraft, and that Clarinda must renounce her 
 superstition, and become reconciled to her sister, 
 or be excluded the Church. But this summary 
 process did not answer. The old sore remained 
 unhealed, and soon broke out afresh; so that Lucy 
 still lay under the imputation of' being a witch. 
 Clarinda charged against her, that on the day of 
 trial, there in presence of the preacher, Lucy had 
 abused her triumph by bewitching her. And the 
 specification was, that when, doing as she had been 
 
172 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 required to do, she (Clarinda) gave her hand to 
 Lucy, she, (Lucy,) by the power of her art, which 
 no Christian could exercise, caused the hand which 
 she held in hers to itch and burn unnaturally; 
 and caused this itching and burning to extend to 
 all her limbs, and break out in frightful sores, the 
 scars of which she still carried. All which, Lucy, 
 of course, denied stoutly. And now what was the 
 preacher to do with such a case ? To reaffirm with 
 my predecessor that the charge was absurd, could 
 be of no avail, for Clarinda's protest of " What I 
 feel I feel, for all my preacher say there a'n't no 
 witch," deserved some consideration. It was con- 
 ceded that if Lucy had bewitched Clarinda, she 
 must of consequence be a witch ; and that if she 
 was a witch she could not be a Christian. All 
 that was plain. But I instituted a new question, 
 w T hich was, whether if Clarinda was indeed a 
 Christian, and no mistake, it might be possible 
 for her to be witched by Lucy, or any one else who 
 should attempt it? Would Clarinda consent for 
 the Bible to answer this question ? Of course she 
 would ; she might not desire any thing else. And 
 I read from the Bible as its answer, Numbers 
 xxxiii. 23, " Surely there is no enchantment against 
 Jacob, neither is there any divination against 
 Israel." This was a point in the case that altered 
 the case, and turned the force of the protest, 
 (" what I feel I feel,") as strongly against Clarinda 
 as against Lucy. And now, from one and the 
 other, I required to know particularly on what 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 173 
 
 grounds their profession of belonging to Jacob 
 rested. Each told her experience at length, while 
 I listened with close attention. " Can you both be 
 deceived?" said I, "for if one is, the other may be." 
 And turning to the complainant, I asked with em- 
 phasis, " Clarinda, are you right sure that you are 
 a Christian?" She was deeply troubled, but an- 
 swered in the affirmative. " How then," I rejoined, 
 "was it possible for Lucy to witch you?" She 
 seemed utterly confounded ; and I relieved her by 
 reading Job ii. 1-8, and by remarking briefly on 
 it, to the effect, that what witches could not do, 
 Satan might, and he might possibly have had power 
 to afflict her as she had been afflicted ; and may 
 have done it at the very time specified, for the pur- 
 pose of producing the mischief which had come of 
 it. The spell was now broken. They embraced 
 each other, and remained for the rest of their lives 
 in peace together. It is better to condescend to 
 the weakness of others, than attempt their correc- 
 tion by main strength. Nor is it an act of great 
 condescension to suffer a weakness, where there is 
 evident goodness in the weak brother. 
 
 I had great satisfaction in my labors among this 
 class of my people. The Church planted among 
 them by Mr. Meredith in troublous times had been 
 well disciplined, and furnished, our leaders and 
 principal members at present, who exerted a salu- 
 tary influence on the younger, both by their good 
 example in all things, and their zealous exhorta- 
 tions. The preacher they regarded as their best 
 
174 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 friend, whose counsel they should follow as from 
 God. Trials were rare ; and there was a constant 
 increase of numbers. And I say in sincerity, that 
 I believe I have never served a more Christian- 
 hearted people, unless those were so with whom I 
 was associated at the same time among the whites. 
 Among these, (the whites,) I have no recollection 
 of a single trial, nor cause for one, during the year. 
 And whilst offences were avoided, our seasons of 
 Christian fellowship, in the prayer-meetings, the 
 class-meetings, the love-feast, were appreciated as 
 they should be by the whole society, and were very 
 refreshing. Of the people of the community I re- 
 ceived nothing worse than marks of respect. De- 
 traction had lost its tongue. The negro meetins:- 
 house was become the Methodist church, and the 
 stories about what the Methodists believed, and how 
 they managed their secret meetings, seemed to be 
 forgotten. But what was more interesting to me, 
 my earnest reasonings from Scripture began to be 
 followed with fruit among the upper circle, of whom 
 several were fully convinced of the truth, and were 
 seeking to be justified by faith without the works 
 of the law. The way was thus prepared for my 
 successor, (the Rev. Samuel K. Hodges,) who reaped 
 more than a golden harvest. 
 
 I have to conclude this Conference year (for the 
 calendar year was out) with one of those adventures 
 which I have never looked back upon without a 
 shudder. I will relate it in the barest statement 
 of the facts, and if they make me to have been a 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 175 
 
 fool or madman, very well ; I can only say I was 
 young, and none of the older persons who were 
 cognizant of the facts said nay, at the time. Con- 
 ference this year came late, being held in January 
 instead of December, the usual Conference month. 
 The place of its session was Fayetteville, eighty 
 miles above "Wilmington. I could not attend it, 
 because of Mrs. Capers expecting to be confined at 
 that very time. But the time was come ; the Con- 
 ference session was over ; and in three days more 
 Bishop Asbury and one or two others would be 
 with as in that shanty parsonage, to pass several 
 days on the Bishop's annual visitation. Besides, 
 there would probably come with the Bishop the 
 preacher of the opening year, whose would then be 
 the right of occupancy. We must leave the par- 
 sonage. To add to my perplexity, all the ready 
 money at my command had been reduced to a mere 
 trifle, absolutely insufficient to pay board anywhere 
 for the time before us ; not to mention a particular 
 fee of twenty dollars ; and my father's estate having 
 gone into the hands of an indifferent person for its 
 management, nothing could be commanded from 
 that quarter ; and to cap it all, there was not one 
 of our friends belonging to the Church in Wilming- 
 ton who could bear the burden of accommodating 
 us. In this condition of things, as we were sitting 
 at breakfast, . more gay than sad under it all, having 
 our good friend, sister Barrett, with us, (since better 
 known in Wilmington as both a person of great 
 worth and usefulness,) I bantered her to carry Anna 
 
176 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 home to her mother. " That I will," she answered, 
 "if you will go with us." The jest was carried on 
 between us by fixing stages on the road at conve- 
 nient distances, where, at the worst, it would be as 
 well for Mrs. Capers as at the parsonage, till w^e 
 talked ourselves into a serious meaning of what we 
 said. Arrangements were instantly made, and that 
 night we were at the house of our friends Allston, 
 ten miles from Wilmington. The house of our 
 friends, Mr. and Mrs. William Gause, on Shallot, 
 thirty miles farther on, over a smooth road, was to 
 be the next stage, if we made another. At either 
 of these places we should be in clover, and might 
 be sure of a hearty welcome for any length of time. 
 At brother Allston's, (Mrs. Capers appearing ex- 
 ceeding well in the morning and inclined to it,) we 
 concluded to set out for brother Gause's ; reached 
 there about 5 o'clock ; and at 10,1 was a father. 
 It was on the 18th January, 1814; and the child 
 then born under circumstances so peculiarly trying 
 and specially providential, has^ thus far, been par- 
 ticularly favored through life, having enjoyed almost 
 entire exemption from disease, and given birth to 
 nine children, of whom eight are living at this date, 
 (1851.) I happen to pen this in an apartment of 
 the Wesleyan Female College, at Macon, Georgia, 
 of which her husband has been president for the 
 last ten years. 
 
 My appointment for 1814 was Santee Circuit; 
 and after Mrs. Capers had perfectly recovered, and 
 it was safe bej T ond doubt for her to take the road 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 177 
 
 again, we took leave of our most kind friends at 
 Shallot, and went to her mother's ; where leaving 
 her till I should have made a round on my circuit, 
 I wxnt to my work. You will remember that this 
 was the circuit in which our family lived. My 
 honored father was no more. My brother-in-law, 
 Maj. Legrand Guerry, and my uncle, Capt. George 
 S. Caper^, and my aunt his wife, had also passed to 
 their heavenly rest. My uncle was the first,, having 
 died in 1809 ; my brother-in-law followed in 1811 ; 
 my father in 1812 ; and my aunt in 1813. And 
 what a vacuum was here! But meanwhile my 
 brother Gabriel (who had married the daughter of 
 the Rev. Thomas Humphries, my old friend of Jef- 
 fers' creek, in Darlington District) was settled atLo- 
 debar, in the neighborhood of my sister ; who had 
 now married a second husband, the Rev. Thomas D. 
 Glenn ; and our venerable friend, the Rev. Thomas 
 Humphries, had been induced to, remove his resi- 
 dence into the same neighborhood also. There 
 was, therefore, still a great interest for us in that 
 neighborhood; and it w T as arranged for Mrs. 
 Capers to divide her time with my brother and 
 sister, during our continuance in the circuit. Cir- 
 cumstanced as I was, there was no other appoint- 
 ment in the Conference so convenient as this, and 
 no other so desirable; but 'of my work I have no 
 more to say, than that, from the time of getting to 
 it, the appointments were regularly filled without 
 exception through the year, the attendance on 
 preaching and at class was good, and we had an- 
 8* 
 
178 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPE R S . 
 
 other good camp-meeting at the old place, Bem- 
 bert's. Good was done, perhaps much good, but 
 every thing went on so uniformly as to furnish 
 nothing for a recollection at the present date. Ne- 
 vertheless, it was an eventful year to me — perhaps 
 no other one more so. It was my second year of 
 married life in the Methodist itinerancy. The ex- 
 periment of such a mode of life seemed fully made, 
 by the last year spent as a stationed preacher, occu- 
 pying one of the three parsonage-houses belonging 
 to the Conference; and now this year which I was 
 spending on a circuit, the circuit at home, with my 
 wife and child staying alternately with my brother 
 and sister. At least, there was no other more favor- 
 able experiment that might have been made for 
 these two years, and no other practicable for the 
 future. And what was I to make of it ? In Wil- 
 mington, with my wife alone, it had cost me three 
 hundred dollars to procure subsistence of the most 
 frugal kind ; a sum of between one hundred and 
 fifty and two hundred dollars having been all that 
 the collections could furnish for all purposes above 
 what was necessary for keeping the church open 
 and in order. In the circuit, (any circuit,) I might 
 receive eighty dollars for myself, eighty dollars for 
 my wife, my travelling expenses, (which were then 
 understood to take in little more than the cost of 
 horse-shoeing and ferriage,) and no more. It had 
 been ascertained that my father's removal, and 
 change of his planting interest from rice to cotton, 
 just before the embargo and war, had seriously in- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 179 
 
 volved his estate, which might be barely sufficient 
 for his widow and three little sons by her; and we, 
 of the first marriage, must be content with sharing 
 among us a legacy from our grandfather Singel- 
 tary, for our patrimony, except only, on my part, a 
 small farm which my father had given me in anti- 
 cipation of my marriage. 
 
 I was not avaricious. I hope I never have been. 
 For myself, any thing might answer, if I was not 
 even emulous of excelling in ascetic virtue. But 
 there were two things which I could not brook : 
 the exposure of my wife to hardships, was one ; 
 and to be made dependent on individuals who 
 might regard me burdensome, was the other. And 
 while for the present year we were not involved in 
 either of , these evils, but were as happily situated 
 as we could desire with those who loved us as them- 
 selves, it was plain that there was no next appoint- 
 ment for us which might not involve us in them. 
 The general policy of the Church, sustained by the 
 opinion of a majority of the preachers and people, 
 was against the preachers' marrying, and therefore 
 against any provision for the support of preachers' 
 families which might encourage their marrying. 
 For a preacher to take a family about from circuit 
 to circuit was out of the question, except he should 
 board them at his own expense, or place them (as 
 for the present year I had done) with particular 
 friends living in the circuit. No circuit would 
 make any provision for them, and the Discipline 
 required none to be made. The few who had wives 
 
180 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPER, S. 
 
 had homes for them, and I too must have a home 
 for my wife, of necessity. But there appeared no 
 way for me to procure such a home without locat- 
 ing. My farm was unsettled, and to settle it must 
 require my presence. And besides that, it would 
 require money ; which I had not, and which I might 
 not obtain by the sale of property, for the reason 
 that I had none which I might sell without dimin- 
 ishing a barely sufficient force for farming at all. 
 It must be borrowed ; and then it would require 
 my personal exertions to pay it back again. With 
 these views, I applied for a location, and was located 
 at the Conference in Charleston, December, 1814, 
 after having travelled but six years. 
 
 Thus I became involved in the cares of this life. 
 My whole plan was, immediately to go to work to 
 settle my farm in an humble but comfortable man- 
 ner, and make a crop of provisions ; and as soon 
 as I should get ready, take into my family a few 
 boys, (not more than eight or ten,) to be educated 
 at a certain price. And as I apprehend it may be 
 thought that I was, at least in part, influenced by 
 my wife to this great change of employment, to 
 whom, it may naturally be supposed, the itinerancy 
 was not so pleasant as a settled mode of life might 
 be, I will take occasion to say at once that it was 
 not so. No, if I had been advised by her, I had 
 never left the work to which we both believed I 
 had been called. She doubted, she hesitated, she 
 objected to it from the first moment that I intro- 
 duced the subject to her. Never did she utter a 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 181 
 
 word nor make a sign in favor of it, but against it ; 
 and at last she yielded with, extreme reluctance, 
 saying, " If you are clear in your mind, you must 
 do it, but I fear you will do it too much on my 
 account." Angelic woman! Had she known it 
 was the hearse to bear her to an early grave, and 
 had I known it, the sides of the controversy had 
 been changed. It was as she suspected. . There 
 were indeed strong reasons for my course, as we 
 have seen, but there was a stronger one underlying 
 them all, which I would fain have hid even from 
 myself, and that was the pain of being absent from 
 her. "What a deception was this ! And yet what 
 honesty might be so severe as to be proof against 
 it? Had the temptation been presented in some 
 other form, had it concerned somebody else, some 
 other interest than the pulse of life, it had re- 
 sulted differently, I think. Why might I not have 
 anticipated the change which even then was ready 
 to be begun in the economy of the Church ? Why 
 was I not wise enough to know, not only that such 
 a change was wanted, but that, on the principles of 
 our progress, it was indispensable, and must very 
 soon take place ? Why not have seen that I was 
 called to sustain my part in this necessary change 
 of policy in the Church ? But there was something 
 that kept me from seeing, and I was blind. 
 
 Having located, I applied myself most assiduously 
 to the work before me. I had fields enclosed ; but 
 no house, except a small kitchen, a meat-house, a 
 
182 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 barn, and a stable, which had been put up for me by 
 my father. First to build a house of four small rooms 
 and a piazza, and prepare the grounds for planting, 
 was my object. Oats came first for the field-work, 
 (four or five acres,) then corn, (some twenty-five or 
 thirty acres,) then potatoes, (an acre or two,) and last, 
 a patch of rice. Two good horses were sufficient. 
 I bought a cow, and when the grass sprang, another; 
 at first two sows, and afterwards others. The 
 house ready for occupancy, I became too much in- 
 terested in the field to be only a manager, and 
 betook myself to the plough ; which having done, 
 I must prosecute it diligently for example's sake. 
 The manner of the farm was, to take the horses to 
 the plough before sunrise, and work till the cook's 
 horn called us to breakfast; then prayers and 
 breakfast, having the horses meanwhile in the 
 stable, where there was always food for them ; then 
 to the plough again till the same horn called us to 
 dinner ; then, after the hour at dinner for man and 
 horse, to the plough till after sunset. I had never 
 done an hour's work in a field in my life when I 
 began to do this ; and was there ever a severer ex- 
 ercise for one who never held a plough before ? At 
 first, I ploughed all day, and at night had fever; 
 then I ploughed all day, and had no fever; and 
 after some few weeks, I had rather plough than not ; 
 so that I have never been able to pity a ploughman 
 since. Every thing kept in good condition about 
 me, and in the fall of the year there were provisions 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 183 
 
 enough made for the year ensuing, and pigs and 
 poultry a plenty, in view of the expected large fam- 
 ily I was to have. 
 
 I preached every Sabbath, and heard of no fault- 
 finding, though I was conscious in myself that 
 there may have been cause for it. On the principle 
 of the adage, that where you lend your ear you 
 give your mind, I had become too much engrossed 
 with secular things through the week to be very 
 spiritual on Sunday. And I was conscious, too, 
 that whereas I had located to meet a necessity, only 
 till that necessity should have been met, feeling 
 that spiritual and not temporal things constituted 
 my vocation, and that the latter should be subor- 
 dinate to the former, I was losing by imperceptible 
 degrees my former clearness of perception of the 
 paramount obligation of a minister to his ministry, 
 and the quickness of feeling proper to it, just in 
 proportion as I felt the cares of husbandry and 
 had my thoughts taken up with temporal concerns. 
 Temporal things were stealthily gaining in im- 
 portance, if things spiritual were not declining; 
 and the duties of husband and father for this life 
 were getting to be considered too much apart from 
 their indispensable connection with the life to 
 come, and God's blessing for both worlds. Thus 
 it was with me when, on the 30th of December, 
 1815, at 6 o'clock P. M., my first son was born, and 
 at 10 o'clock the idol of my heart expired! That 
 morning I had seen her the perfection of beauty, 
 the loveliest of her sex ; and contemplated her as 
 
184 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the first of women, the pride and joy of my life. 
 And now, at night, something had gone wrong, I 
 knew not what, and before there might have been 
 time for alarm, she was no more. I cannot dwell 
 upon it, but I owe her something who was my wife, 
 wdiose surpassing beauty stood not in her husband's 
 eye, but was acknowledged by all her acquaintances ; 
 whose whole life had been passed without a reproof 
 from father, mother, or friend; whose nature was 
 gentleness and love to a degree not to be exceeded ; 
 whose modesty was so perfect as never to bear, even 
 from myself in private, a word expressing admira- 
 tion of her personal beauty, without a blush to 
 crimson her cheek ; whose faith in Christ was sim- 
 ple, sincere, and consistent; whose piety kept her 
 in the love of God continually, so as always to 
 enjoy the hope of the gospel and the reason of it; 
 and who, with all her loveliness, was mine, as 
 completely as the purest and strongest affection 
 could make her so. Nor was she only to be ad- 
 mired and loved for her beauty and her sweetness: 
 gentle as she was, she had a noble courage, which 
 I several times saw proved : as when we were at 
 Smithville, and the British were expected, at Wil- 
 mington, with those desperate chances of the road 
 before us • and even here in our out-of-the-way re- 
 tirement. Nor was she one of those charming 
 ones who seem to think themselves too charming to 
 be useful. No one required less on her own account 
 than my sainted Anna, while few might boast of a 
 readier mind or more efficient will for the service of 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 185 
 
 lier friends. And whatever she did she did well : her 
 spirit was active, taking hold on every thing about 
 her to purpose, and managing well all her house- 
 hold affairs. 
 
 Bishop Asbury and Bishop MeKendree had both 
 been expected to attend the Conference at Charles- 
 ton in December, 1815 ; but the latter only was 
 enabled to attend it ; Bishop Asbury, sinking un- 
 der his infirmities, and almost at his end, having 
 been obliged to lie by on the road. He was now 
 (January, 1816) aiming for Baltimore, with but 
 little hope of eking out life till the session of the 
 General Conference in that city; and as he passed 
 through Rembert's neighborhood I saw him, and, 
 with a bleeding heart, asked him for a circuit. A 
 circuit, any circuit, would now have been a boon. 
 "I am a dying man," replied the Bishop, " or I 
 would give you one. I shall never see another 
 Conference in Carolina. You had better w^ait for 
 your Quarterly Conference to recommend you to a 
 Presiding Elder." It was a sore disappointment, 
 but there was no alternative. 
 
 During the year 1814, my brother John had pur- 
 chased the place of my father's last residence, (ad- 
 joining which was the farm I have been speaking 
 of,) and was living at it. This circumstance had 
 contributed no little to our satisfaction during the 
 year which had now closed with death and dark- 
 ness ; and, in view of my instantly returning to the 
 itinerancy, it offered a relief for some perplexity I 
 felt as to the best and kindest . disposition in my 
 
186 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 power to make of the few negroes I had been farm- 
 ing with. And it was concluded between us that, 
 as the whole concern put under the management 
 of a hired overseer was not sufficient to insure any 
 considerable income, and might be abused, I would 
 leave the negroes to themselves, with stock and 
 provisions sufficient for their use, and that he would 
 visit them often enough to give advice on any mat- 
 ter of interest to them. This arrangement was 
 made in the month of January. They had corn 
 enough for all purposes, and more than I had con- 
 sumed the year before, two good milch cows, my 
 best farm-horse and all utensils for the field, as 
 much bacon as weighed two hundred and fifty 
 pounds to each of the adults and half as much to 
 each child, and several sows with young pigs, be- 
 side a number of shoats. I w^as sure that with the 
 same provisions, properly husbanded, twice the 
 number of persons might be fully fed. They 
 planted twenty acres of corn and ten or eleven of 
 cotton. Of the cotton, never a pod was picked, 
 for the reason that none was produced. Of the 
 corn, they gathered in October about half as much 
 as I had left them in January. The cows and 
 calves were dead, so were the sows and shoats and 
 pigs, except some seven or eight left from the spring 
 litters, which were barely living. So that I esti- 
 mated my loss by the experiment of the year, at 
 about as much as it had cost me the year before to 
 get the place settled. I never saw them till in 
 October I went to see what they had produced. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 187 
 
 But before this result was known, or had been 
 anticipated, I found myself embarrassed from an- 
 other quarter. The surplus produce sold in Jan- 
 uary, including some stock, left me still owing 
 several hundred dollars. This my brother John 
 proffered kindly to assume the payment of; but 
 for some cause, I know not what, my creditors de- 
 clined it, and insisted on retaining my notes. It 
 seemed a little curious, that the same principle 
 of abiding contracts, which had kept me to my 
 circuit rounds under the temptations of 1809, 
 should now forbid my going to a circuit in 1816. 
 But so it was. I had to be just in the first place, 
 and pay my debts, lest my good should be evil 
 spoken of, and my zeal for religion be made an 
 occasion, by any one, of reproaching it. During 
 some six weeks that I was in Georgetown as a 
 supply for the stationed preacher, who had gone 
 to the General Conference at Baltimore, I re- 
 ceived dun upon dun ; evidently from an appre- 
 hension that I had gone to a business in which 
 nothing could be made for the payment of debts. 
 
 I might have mentioned in my notices of the 
 last year, (1815,) that although my plans were laid 
 with a view only to the year ensuing as regarded 
 teaching, I was induced to take charge of the 
 two eldest sons of my friend, William Johnson, 
 Esq., of Santee, who continued with us from early 
 in July till the Christmas holidays.; The sad cause 
 which prevented others from coming at the present 
 date, (January, 1816,) had also prevented the re- 
 
188 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 turn of these, as it was understood that the death 
 of my wife had broken up my plans. But while I 
 was in Georgetown this spring, as above stated, I 
 was solicited by a brother-in-law of Mr. Johnson, 
 Robert F. "Withers, Esq., (who then passed his 
 summers in the neighborhood of Statesburg,) to 
 pass the summer with him and teach his children, 
 for which I should receive a liberal salary; for 
 so I considered a hundred dollars a month to be, 
 with board and keeping my horse, and liberty to 
 visit my children at will. 
 
 But before I go to Mr. Withers, let me return 
 to Mr. Johnson. As soon as he had heard that I 
 was in Georgetown, he sent a letter of condolence 
 with a request for me to visit him, and let him 
 know when it might be. convenient for me to come, 
 that he might send for me. I was received with 
 tears by all the family, and my dear boys Andrew 
 and Pinckney wept as if they had lost a mother. 
 In the morning Mr. Johnson proposed a walk, and 
 opened in the most delicate manner possible the 
 object of it as soon as we were alone together. He 
 thought I must have incurred expenses in the last 
 year looking to the income of the present, which 
 might be inconvenient to me. He had a consider- 
 able sum of money in the hands of his factor which 
 he did not need for any present use ; and he would 
 be the obliged person if I would allow him to ad- 
 vance me any sum. He spoke of Mrs. Capers, her 
 affectionate kindness to his sons, their love for her, 
 the mournful interest which the family felt for me, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 189 
 
 and mentioned a thousand dollars as the least he. 
 thought I might require on account of the last 
 year, and which he was to be the obliged person 
 by advancing. I consented to three hundred. 
 And I will only add that when, a year or more after- 
 wards, I was ready to repay it, he begged to be 
 excused, assuring me that he had accepted a note 
 only to relieve my feelings at the time, but had torn 
 the name off before putting it in his desk, and was 
 still very sorry that I had not consented to accept 
 a thousand dollars instead of three hundred. Not 
 a dollar would he have ; and it was plain that I 
 had not thought well enough of mankind to sup- 
 pose there might be a William Johnson among my 
 acquaintances. 
 
 In June I entered on the duties of my engage- 
 ment with Mr. Withers, on the Hills, near States- 
 burg. His seat was about ten miles from my 
 sister's, where were my two infant children, Anna 
 and Theodotus. My most kind and faithful sister 
 had been with us several days at the time of the 
 death of my beloved wife, and had taken the child- 
 ren home with her as their foster-mother ; and well 
 did she fulfil a mother's part by them. Here with 
 my sister and children I usually passed two days in 
 seven ; the rest of my time being devoted to the 
 instruction of the Misses Withers, Sarah, Anslie, 
 and Charlotte, fourteen, twelve, and ten years old ; 
 and lovely pupils were they. 
 
 If I had been as considerate of public prejudice 
 (or, perhaps, opinion) as I might , have been at the 
 
190 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 age of 'twenty-six, I should not have to state that 
 at the expiration of the term of my engagement 
 with Mr. Withers, I was married to Miss Susan 
 McGill, my present wife. This was on the 31st of 
 October. I believe, indeed, that I have always 
 had a right appreciation of the duty one owes 
 to public sentiment ; and if the early date of my 
 second marriage be not an exception, I have been 
 scrupulously observant of it all through life. What 
 is called popularity is another thing. Since I was 
 converted, I have classed that with its fellows of 
 " the abominations of the Egyptians;" and my 
 observations on men, both of the Church and the 
 State, have gone strongly to the conclusion that it 
 is an " abomination of desolation," and that 
 whether it may be called Roman or Egyptian, it 
 cannot consist with Christian principle. The man 
 who would make himself popular, stoops and 
 crouches to just that degree. He puts himself in 
 a posture for any thing, and to go in any direction ; 
 a chameleon of any color, a fawning spaniel or a 
 barking cur, just as may suit the time. He may 
 be a feather in the wind, or a tennis-ball tossed 
 by a child's hand ; but he has lost the form of a 
 man when he has made popularity his principle. 
 Not so as to the respect of the individual for public 
 sentiment; that is, the common judgment of 
 society as to the proprieties of life and conduct. 
 Popularity works against society ; this feeling of 
 respect for public sentiment works for it. This 
 proceeds from a feeling of the responsibility pro- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 191 
 
 per for the individual towards the community : 
 that affects to honor the community for individual 
 advantage, and exalts self-interest above the gen- 
 eral good. The one is a generous virtue, and the 
 other just the opposite. If the opinion were true 
 which I have heard expressed, that a second wife 
 is a supplanter, and in contracting a second mar- 
 riage one forgets the former wife, or loses his 
 affection for her, transferring it to the supplanter ; 
 or if only that to marry a second wife implies such 
 an interference with the affections as is incon- 
 sistent with the most tenderly cherished love and 
 affection for the dead, I could never have been 
 married a second time, nor could ten years have 
 prepared me for the unnatural revulsion. I did 
 not believe so, nor did I feel so. It was alike 
 natural and sincere for me to weep for the dead or 
 solicit a living wife ; and the woman should have 
 had. not my affection but abhorrence who should 
 have come to my arms as a supplanter. Anna was 
 enshrined in my heart never to be dispossessed ; and 
 the wife I solicited was not to dispute her title to 
 her burying-place. And yet, I repeat, I solicited 
 the hand of Miss McGill as sincerely as I had done 
 that of Miss White ; and I loved to talk of my dear 
 Anna to her. I loved to tell her how she must 
 have loved to know her, as her own soul's sister: 
 as I have since told her how I shall love to intro- 
 duce them when we meet together in heaven. 
 Nature's secrets are not to be disclosed in words ; 
 but so simple was my heart, so sincere my con- 
 
192 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 duct, that one of my first cares after my second 
 marriage was to introduce Mrs. Capers to my 
 mother, (Anna's mother,) as her daughter. I knew 
 she could never doubt jny love for the deceased, 
 and she herself had been married a second time. 
 
 I could not yet be ready for the itinerancy, but 
 must be occupied for another year at least with tem- 
 poral things, if only to fetch up the losses of the 
 blind experiment I had made of having my negroes 
 to provide for themselves by farming. My loca- 
 tion was Georgetown, with a rented house at 
 North Island for the summer; my employment, 
 teaching a school. And thus commenced the year 
 1817. 
 
 Susan McGill (my present wife) was the daugh- 
 ter of "William and Ann McGill, of Kershaw Dis- 
 trict, South Carolina. Her father was from Ireland, 
 and when she was about eight years old, he was 
 induced to remove to Georgia. The place they 
 lighted on was exceedingly sickly, and the family 
 suffered much by sickness, Mr. McGill not less 
 than the others, and perhaps more. By this 
 means, and the unfaithfulness of one of those 
 double-eyed friends, who are never to be trusted, 
 after a- few years he lost pretty much what pro- 
 perty he had had, and returned to Carolina, where, 
 at least, he had some friends left. His near neigh- 
 bor, a Mr. Turley, left him, in his will, a small 
 farm in a healthy portion of Kershaw District. 
 Leaving his family for a time in charge of his 
 eldest son, at a farm near Columbia, belonging to 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 193 
 
 General Horry, lie visited the farm in Kershaw Dis- 
 trict, and prepared to move his family thither. 
 During his absence his eldest son, Samuel, obtain- 
 ed a situation in the upper part of Columbia, called 
 Cotton Town. His kind and obliging manners 
 made him many friends: among the ladies was 
 Mrs. Horry. After the death of her husband, (Gen- 
 eral Horry,) her attachment to Samuel induced a 
 request from her to his parents to spend the winter 
 with her in Georgetown. The friendship of this 
 excellent lady grew into attachment, and resulted 
 in his eldest sister, Susan, becoming a member of 
 her family. Samuel died early after his sister's 
 marriage, and was a spirited, promising young man. 
 "William, after receiving a thorough training for 
 business, (at the house of Messrs. McDowell and 
 Black, in Charleston,) and making something clever 
 on his own account, removed at a later period to 
 Alabama, with his mother, (his father being dead,) 
 several sisters, and a younger brother named James. 
 I saw him some seven years ago at Tuskaloosa, 
 where he was at that time a member of the Legis- 
 lature, and still had the care of his sisters, his 
 mother being dead. It was at Mrs. Horry's that 
 I became acquainted with Miss McGill, and at her 
 house we were married ; for she had become as a 
 daughter to her benefactress, who had never had 
 a child of her own ; and had been so regarded for 
 several years. 
 
 Our friend resided in Columbia for the summer 
 and fall, and in Georgetown for the winter and 
 9 
 
194 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 spring, having her estate on Winyaw Bay. And 
 in anticipation of our going to Georgetown, she 
 had arranged that we should occupy her house, and 
 be furnished with provisions from her plantation, 
 at will. But, except for a few weeks, I availed 
 myself of neither. The house was too remote 
 for a school, and it was not to my taste to order 
 any thing in her absence from her plantation. She 
 chided me kindly for this, and said she ascribed it 
 to my not understanding her intentions towards 
 my wife. It was the only time we had any conver- 
 sation about property. She had several times hinted 
 at it before, and I had as often evaded her; but 
 now she told me plainly, that the instrument which 
 she had had drawn up after the death of her hus- 
 band, and when Susan had but just come into her 
 family, was not to be her will. She had a pre- 
 judice against making wills, or she would have 
 made another long before then. The plantation 
 which I was too delicate to order a bushel of rice 
 from, was to be mine, and a number of the negroes 
 mine, except a token of affection for one who had 
 been long in her family as a daughter, but for 
 whom ample provision had already been made by 
 General Horry ; and a hundred dollars a year, to 
 an orphan girl till she should be married. There, 
 however, still lay the repudiated wall in the drawer, 
 wdiich had been so long made, and now so decided- 
 ly renounced, and which, as little as she may have 
 thought of it, was to be her will at last. She had 
 been not many weeks in Georgetown, when she was 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 195 
 
 taken sick. Her physician called it rheumatism, 
 and told her friends that little was the matter, 
 more than rheumatism in connection with a cold. 
 Mrs. Capers visited her every day, and every day 
 heard the story about rheumatism. I grew uneasy, 
 and went to see her — doubted her physician's 
 judgment, and proposed that she should be re- 
 moved to my house; as if barely for a pleasant 
 change, but meaning to employ another physician. 
 She was removed. Another physician was called 
 immediately, for she was extremely ill. He pro- 
 nounced the case hopeless, and she died in a few 
 days. The second physician was Dr. John "Wragg, 
 a nephew of my second mother; and suspecting 
 something, probably, he asked me at the first 
 moment we were alone after seeing her, if she had 
 a will, or wished to alter one ; and on being told 
 how the matter was, urged me instantly to send for 
 a lawyer. But it could not be. She had been 
 trifled with to within two hours of her conscious- 
 ness in life, and I owed her too much to take up 
 those two hours at the threshold of eternity with a 
 lawyer ; and I owed myself too much to allow a 
 suspicion to attach to me that I had brought her 
 to my house in a dying condition to filch her pro- 
 perty. When her situation was made known to 
 her, the will came first to her mind. But I was 
 at her bedside for another purpose, and claimed 
 her thoughts for Christ and his salvation ; and 
 several times afterwards, when scarcely able to 
 
196 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 articulate, she tried to say something about that 
 will. 
 
 My school was well attended — quite as much so 
 as I desired it to be. We had the satisfaction of 
 being in one* of the best of communities — George- 
 town at its best estate, I should think — and of 
 having the ministry and intimate friendship of that 
 excellent man, the Rev. Samuel K. Hodges. But 
 there was nothing that contributed more to my en- 
 joyment than the affectionate attachment which 
 subsisted between my wife and the family of my 
 deceased wife, which was so simple, and pure- 
 hearted, and entire, that a stranger might have 
 thought she was the very daughter and sister of 
 them all. In J une we repaired to our rented sum- 
 mer-house on Du Bordieu's Island, which is sepa- 
 rated by an inlet from North Island, and together 
 with that island served the planters and principal 
 inhabitants of Georgetown as a healthy retreat in 
 summer. My school was continued here for the 
 benefit of my neighbors, and such others as would 
 board their children, till late in October, when I 
 returned to Georgetown, and resumed it there ; 
 and during this period I preached every Sabbath 
 day "in my own hired house." 
 
 And now what was wanting ? "Whether at the 
 island or in town, my school was amply sufficient 
 for my wants ; my health was good ; I was in a 
 community of friends, with not a few of those I 
 most loved about me ; I enjoyed public respect and 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 19T 
 
 confidence ; and yet I was unhappy. During the 
 time at the island, when surrounded by men of the 
 world only, and in such near neighborhood with 
 them as to hear and see continually what the world 
 afforded for the happiness of its people, it was as 
 if the mysterious words, " mene, mene, tekel, 
 uphaksin," had been written on the wall of every 
 parlor. I loathed it all, though I loved its victims. 
 I loathed it, and yet I was haunted with spectres 
 of apostates who for the world had abjured reli- 
 gion. Shall ever I be one ? And I was afraid, 
 though I felt that neither of its divinities, "the 
 lust of the flesh," nor "the lust of the eye," nor 
 " the pride of life," was any god with me. I heard 
 the voice of preaching, but it was my own voice 
 that I heard ; of prayer, but it was I who prayed. 
 I heard, perchance, the notes of some song of Zion, 
 but the singers were my wife and myself alone. I 
 would contrast my loneliness with the times gone 
 by, when in the woods which had never known an 
 axe I felt net to be alone, because I had left a 
 Christian brother's house and was going to meet a 
 company at the house of God. The prayer-meet- 
 ing, the class-meeting, the love-feast, I had none ; 
 but the world, the world was ever about me, and 
 turn which way I might it still pursued me. I 
 thought, nay, I felt, that if I had never been con- 
 versant with it before, having ]ess knowledge I 
 might feel less aversion. But it was the same 
 world which I had been bred in ; and which I had 
 renounced, because it knew not, and could not 
 
198 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 know, the cross of Christ. My return to George- 
 town was a great, a very great relief. How sweet 
 was communion with brother Hodges; how plea- 
 sant the society of brethren ; how grateful the fel- 
 lowship of the class-meeting; how delightful the 
 gospel from the lips of another ; how precious the 
 table of the Lord ! Could I doubt ? Surely I could 
 not. I had been out of my place, and therefore 
 could not be at ease. God had not meant for me to 
 serve tables, but to preach ; nor to keep a school 
 for so much a quarter, but to feed his flock, his 
 sheep and his lambs. "What would I pass another 
 summer for, excluded the privileges of the Church 
 of Christ? "What might recompense me for an- 
 other summer like the past at Du Bordieu's Island? 
 But there was only one way of escape for me, and 
 come what might I must take that way. I must 
 reenter the itinerancy, and I must do so at once. 
 There, I should not bear my burdens unsustained; 
 and heavy if they should be, I should have the 
 consolation, best above all, of knowing that they 
 were the Lord's, and borne for His sake, and not 
 of my producing. 
 
 Our fourth Quarterly Meeting came on in a few 
 weeks after my return to Georgetown, and I Sur- 
 prised brother Kennedy, the Presiding Elder, by 
 applying for a recommendation to be readmitted 
 into the itinerancy. This done, I went actively- to 
 work to arrange every thing for it. My school was 
 closed with the Christmas holidays, and I was 
 ready to go to my appointment. No time was lost, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 199 
 
 and in January, 1818, I was again at work as a 
 travelling preacher. My appointment was Colum- 
 bia ; where another had been added to the list of 
 parsonages belonging to the South Carolina Con- 
 ference, and which was now at my service. It 
 was a small concern, and poor ; but there was no 
 reprobating "tekel" to be seen written on its walls, 
 and I could sing, 
 
 " My soul mounted higher 
 In a chariot of fire, 
 And the world, it was under my feet." 
 
 Poverty itself had a charm when it stood in an 
 open renunciation of the world for the Master's 
 sake. As to the parsonage-house, or its furniture, 
 or provisions, I was not responsible for them, good 
 or bad. 
 
 My friends in Columbia will excuse the liberty I 
 take in what I here say of the accommodations 
 furnished the preacher in 1818, and may even take 
 a pleasure in contrasting the present with the past 
 in that respect. They will hardly dream of any re- 
 flection on them by a statement of facts, any more 
 than that pattern society of Methodists in Wil- 
 mington might at the present time by the facts of 
 the time of my service in that place. The cases 
 were different, to be sure, for in 1818, in Columbia, 
 we had some five or six brethren, any one of whom 
 was worth more than an equivalent of all the property 
 of all the Methodists of Wilmington in 1813 put 
 together. And it is also true that these richer 
 
200 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 brethren were the stewards. I mention it to show 
 what was the general state of things among us at 
 that time as regarded the support of the preachers ; 
 and shall be faithful, without the slightest feeling 
 of any possible unkindness. 
 
 The parsonage-house was of one story, about forty 
 feet long, eighteen or twenty wide, and consisted 
 of three rooms, of which one, at the west end of 
 the house, had the breadth of the house for its 
 length, by some seventeen feet for its breadth. It 
 had a fire-place, and a first coat of rough plastering 
 to make it comfortable in winter. Across the mid- 
 dle of the house was a passage, communicating 
 with this principal room on one side, and two small 
 rooms which took up the remainder of the house 
 on the other side of it. These two small rooms 
 also were made comfortable, as the principal one 
 w r as, by a first coat of rough plastering, but with- 
 out any fire-place. There was no shed nor piazza 
 to the house, and the story was low, so that in 
 summer it was very hot. There was in one of the 
 small rooms a bed, a comfortable one, but I think 
 there was neither bureau nor table, and I have for- 
 gotten whether there was a chair appropriated to it, 
 besides the four belonging to the parlor, or not. 
 Perhaps, as four chairs were enough for our use at 
 any one time, it was thought as well to have them 
 taken from parlor to chamber and back again. 
 The parlor (as I call the room which was appropri- 
 ated to all purposes except sleeping) was furnished 
 with a table, of pine wood, which, for having been 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 201 
 
 some time in a school-house, was variously hacked 
 and marked with deep and broad notches, heads of 
 men, and the like, which, however, could not be 
 seen after we got a cloth to cover them ; a slab, of 
 a broad piece of pine plank, painted Spanish-brown, 
 on which were a pitcher, five cups and saucers, and 
 three tumblers ; a well-made bench, for sitting, 
 nine feet long, of pine also, and three Windsor 
 chairs. I am not sure whether we found a pair of 
 andirons in the parlor or not, so that I cannot add 
 such a convenience to the list with certainty. - With 
 this doubtful addition, the above furnishes an en- 
 tire list of the furniture. In the yard was a small 
 shanty of one room for a kitchen, and another still 
 smaller for a store-room, or meat-house, or I know 
 not what. We used it, small as it was, for an 
 omnium gatherum. And I repeat, so far was I 
 from complaining, that I even exulted in this 
 poverty. For a man to be inferior to his circum- 
 stances, I thought, might be a humiliation indeed, 
 but I could see no reason to be mortified at what 
 others had imposed on a pure conscience. And I 
 have a vivid recollection of receiving company and 
 seating them on that long bench with as perfect 
 ease of manner as I might have done if they had 
 called on me at a tent at a camp-meeting, where 
 nothing better was to be expected. In particular, 
 I remember to have felt something more than bare 
 self-possession, when, being waited on by a joint 
 committee of the two houses of the Legislature, 
 with a request to preach to that honorable body, 
 9* 
 
202 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 and perceiving that my hench might hold their 
 honors, I invited them to be seated on it, while I 
 took a chair before that presence, feeling to look as 
 if I did not lack good-breeding. And I had a 
 feeling, too, as if not a man of them need be mor- 
 tified by a seat so humble as was that pine bench. 
 "What was the bench to them ? and what was the 
 bench to me ? They could occupy it with dignity, 
 and so might I, either that or my half-backed chair. 
 
 The general position of the Methodists as a 
 denomination was exceedingly humble. They were 
 the poorer of the people. The preachers had been 
 raised up from among that people, and, in worldly 
 respects, were still as they were. Every thing 
 about the denomination partook somewhat, perhaps 
 much, of the cast of poverty. The preachers gen- 
 erally wore very common clothing, mostly of home- 
 spun, cut in the style of a clown of a century past. 
 The meeting-houses, even in the towns, were in- 
 ferior wooden buildings. The aspects of poverty, 
 if not poverty itself, seemed to be Methodistic, if 
 not saintly ; and Methodism in rags might be none 
 the worse, since its homespun was esteemed better 
 than the broadcloth of other sects. And there had 
 been an everlasting preaching, too, against preach- 
 ing for money: that is, against the preachers being 
 supported by the people. It had been reiterated 
 from the beginning that w^e were eighty-dollar 
 men, (not money-lovers, as some others were sus- 
 pected of being,) till it got to be considered that 
 for Methodist preachers to be made comfortable, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 203 
 
 would deprive tliem of their glorying, and tarnish, 
 the lustre of their Methodistic reputation. It was 
 all nonsense, perfect nonsense, but it was not then 
 so considered. A strong case it was of the force 
 jpf association, appropriating to immaterial and 
 indifferent circumstances a value wholly inde- 
 pendent of them, and belonging to a very different 
 thing, which, by chance, had been found in con- 
 nection with such circumstances. But who did 
 not know that it was not the preacher's coat that 
 made him preach w T ith power, and that furnished 
 him with strength for the battles of the Lord? 
 But that power, in that preacher, reflected honor on 
 his homespun coat, and caused the coat itself to be 
 admired. Could broadcloth do more ? It had 
 never done as much for the persons concerned, and 
 they were hearty for the homespun, homespun for 
 ever. And then, who would experiment a change 
 when things were well enough ? " Let well enough 
 alone." The preacher was just as he ought to be, 
 and the preaching just as it ought to be, and why 
 interfere ? " The best of men were but men at the 
 best," and who could vouch that to change his cir- 
 cumstances might not change the man, so as that 
 the same man in a better coat should not preach a 
 worse sermon ? And then when such points were 
 not presented as for an equal discussion of both 
 sides of the question, but with the full tide and 
 current of opinion setting one way, what might it 
 avail for this or that individual, or even this or 
 that society, to oppose it ? Might they not expose 
 
204 
 
 LITE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 themselves to the imputation of being unmethodist- 
 ical and \v0rldl3-minded, lowering the standard of 
 Methodism to suit their own carnal tastes ? 
 
 I remember that not long ago, when the present 
 Trinity church in Charleston had just been com| 
 pleted, happening to step into it with two or three 
 gentlemen of friendly feelings, who were not Meth- 
 odists, one of them said, as in tones of regret, shaking 
 his head as he spoke : "Ah, this does not look like 
 Methodism. Too fine, too fine ! Give me the old 
 Cumberland street blue meeting." And this was 
 a gentleman of the Protestant Episcopal Church, 
 and a pretty decided Churchman besides. He 
 seemed to think that even a High- Churchman 
 coming to a Methodist meeting might hardly get 
 the good of it unless he found there low, dusky walls 
 and seats with open backs, and such like assistances 
 of a godly worship. 
 
 But to return to my brethren of the Board of 
 Stewards. It could not have been without a strug- 
 gle that such men as they were, as to worldly posi- 
 tion and circumstances, had identified themselves 
 with the Methodists in that community at the time 
 when they had done so. In doing this, they must 
 have felt strongly the poverty of the world without 
 the riches of grace, and the riches of poverty 
 ennobled by this heavenly bestowment. They had 
 come into the Church, therefore, to take it as it 
 was, and not to reform it ; the rich thus consenting, 
 perhaps rejoicing, to be made low, as the most 
 desirable form of exaltation. And they, finding 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 205 
 
 the Church to be pleased with its poverty, as if 
 that poverty might be indispensable to its spirit- 
 uality, adopted the prevailing sentiment, and were 
 content with the poverty for the sake of the spirit- 
 uality. Thej r had not turned Methodists to spoil 
 Methodism, but only for a share of its spiritual 
 power. They were probably in fault, and as far as 
 they may have been so, I too was to blame, for why 
 did I not complain ? Or if not, w T hy did I not, of 
 myself, put away that table and that bench, and 
 those ungainly chairs? But the whole economy 
 of 1818 was of a piece with this, so that the entire 
 cost to the Church of keeping the parsonage that 
 year was but a fraction over two hundred dollars. 
 I might explain how it was so, if it were worth the 
 trouble, but it is not. Of this, however, I am sat- 
 isfied, that I have since occupied a parsonage in 
 Columbia, when the table was mahogany, and the 
 bench belonged to the piazza, and the parlor, and 
 the dining-room, and two bedrooms were suita- 
 bly furnished for decency and comfort; and 
 neither was I more useful, nor did I love the peo- 
 ple, nor did they love me more, than in that year of 
 1818. Changes of this sort require time ; and woe 
 to the man who should be so inconsiderate of the 
 force of prejudice and the weaknesses of men, as to 
 attempt them by main strength. He shall find his 
 end accomplished, if at all, at a fearful cost. 
 
 Methodism was never poverty and rags, nor a 
 clown's coat and blundering speech, nor an unfur- 
 
206 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 nished, half-provisioned house, nor no house at all, 
 for the preacher ; but it was the gospel simply be- 
 lieved, and faithfully followed, and earnestly (even 
 vehemently) insisted on. It was powerful, not 
 because it was poor, but because it was the living, 
 breathrng, active, urgent testimony of the gospel 
 of the Som of God. It apprehended Christ's pre- 
 sence, and took hold on his authority to perform 
 its work. Its every utterance was a " Thus saith the 
 Lord.''' The Bible, the Bible was ever on its lips. 
 Nothing but the Bible, and just as the Bible holds 
 it, was its testimony of truth. It was all spiritual, 
 experimental, practical, not speculative, abstracted, 
 or metaphysical. "When it preached, it was to 
 testify of "repentance toward God, and faith 
 toward our Lord Jesus Christ;" and to both, and to 
 every degree of both, for the time then present. 
 When it exhorted, it was to enforce its preaching, 
 as it ever saw sinners sporting on the brink of a 
 precipice, and believers in danger of being seduced 
 from their safety. ' And preaching or exhorting, its 
 inexhaustible argument was, eternity — eternity at 
 hand — an eternity of heaven or hell for every soul 
 of man. Its great element was spirituality — a 
 spirituality not to be reached by a sublimating 
 mental process, but by a hearty entertaining of the 
 truths of the gospel as they challenged the con- 
 science and appealed to the heart for credence in 
 the name of Christ crucified, whenever and wher- 
 ever the gospel was preached. And this, together 
 
AUTOEXOGKAPHY. 
 
 207 
 
 with a moral discipline answering to it, I under- 
 stand to be Methodism still, and God forbid there 
 should come any other in its name. 
 
 We had a prosperous year, on the whole, with 
 crowded congregations; and meetings for "the 
 fellowship of saints," whether in class or the love- 
 feast, were well attended. In the latter part of the 
 year, to relieve myself of the urgency of my brother 
 Gabriel, I addressed a note to Dr. Maxcy, of the 
 college, as if to inquire whether any examination 
 might be requisite in order to my obtaining a 
 diploma; which he replied to kindly, and at the 
 Commencement, without any thing further on the 
 subject, I was made — alias, dubbed — A. M. 
 
 The Conference at the close of this year was in 
 Camden, good old Camden, with its Isaac Smith, 
 and Mathis, and Brown, and Reynolds, and Thorn- 
 ton, and the rest. Bishop Roberts attended it 
 alone. The Conference was full, and whether in 
 its business sessions, or its public ministrations, 
 was an excellent one. Brother Hodges was then 
 Presiding Elder of the Ogeechee District, and 
 called for me to be appointed to Savannah. This 
 place (now and for years past so favorably known 
 as one of the most desirable of our stations) was 
 then regarded the forlorn hope. There was no ap- 
 pointment in the Conference half so unwelcome to 
 a Methodist preacher. After several years of in- 
 effectual effort to plant a Methodist Church on the 
 soil which had been trod by the feet of the "Wesleys, 
 Bishop Asbury had determined on a great sacrifice 
 
208 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 for it, and sent the lion of his day, James Russell, 
 who had passed as a blazing torchlight through the 
 woodland circuits, and was thought to be the man 
 for Savannah also. But he failed, and Savannah 
 proved the grave of his power and success. It was 
 not a citadel to be taken by storm, and he could 
 not get a hearing of those who might have esti- 
 mated his talents, but who were content with hear- 
 ing of him that he was a wonderful ranter. Rus- 
 sell, however, got a church built by this sacrifice 
 of himself, partly by his influence in the country, 
 and perhaps more by the aid of his Presiding El- 
 der, the Rev. Lewis Myers. But it got him in debt, 
 and he engaged himself to assist the United States 
 Quartermaster by foraging for the troops ; (for it 
 was during the war with Great Britain.) And thus 
 he lost all pretension to ministerial influence or use- 
 fulness in Savannah, became discouraged, engaged 
 in money speculations, and located. We had, then, 
 procured a meeting-house, but not a congregation. 
 Nor had we gained in public respect or confidence. 
 My good brother, the Rev. Henry Bass, afterwards 
 labored with his usual faithfulness, and purged the 
 puny vine of some of its rotten branches, and 
 grafted others of a better sort into it. And my 
 impression is that the first hope of success for the 
 Methodists in Savannah began to dawn in his 
 labors there. But after him, and for the year (1818) 
 just closed, we were again unfortunate. The Rev. 
 Urban Cooper had been sent. He was a young 
 man of uncommon talents and engaging manners, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 209 
 
 and who might have proved eminently useful ; but 
 he found no accommodations for his family, or 
 means for their support, and declined filling the 
 appointment. And yet, under all these adverse 
 circumstances, by the indomitable perseverance of 
 brother Myers, the former Presiding Elder, we had 
 procured a parsonage-house of respectable dimen- 
 sions, which, if the Bishop would send me, I should 
 have the use of for the year 1819. But it was 
 strongly objected to by the Presiding Elder of the 
 Charleston District, who wished me appointed to 
 the city, and who was seconded by my friend Ken- 
 nedy, who thought the appointment to Savannah 
 might prove an oppressive one. In this state of 
 the case, the Bishop decided that if I was free to 
 go, he would send me to Savannah, but not with- 
 out my consent. Brother Hodges accordingly 
 broke the subject to me, but I declined giving an 
 answer, further than to say, that I was more free to 
 go anywhere than to interfere in the least degree 
 with my appointment. 
 
 We were appointed to Savannah, and to Savan- 
 nah we went. No other appointment might have 
 been more suitable, nor afforded a finer field of 
 usefulness, than this. And yet the announcement 
 of it to me excited feelings of exceeding weakness. 
 I did not doubt its being providential. I never 
 found it difficult to believe this of any appointment 
 at any time. Indeed, it always appeared to me that 
 if there was any thing in the affairs of men which 
 Providence might be believed to be concerned in, 
 
210 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 it was the appointment of a preacher to his field 
 of labor ; involving, as it must, not only his in- 
 dividual interest, but that of so many others ; and, 
 whether for himself or the people, interests of the 
 highest moment. I supposed my appointment to 
 be of God, and did not doubt it ; nor did I cherish 
 for a moment any feeling contrary to submission, 
 and an instant steady purpose to obey. But there 
 was with the persuasion of its being providential, 
 an apprehension as if the Lord's controversy with 
 me for having left the work by locating might not 
 have been ended ; and the appointment to so sickly 
 a place as Savannah was reported to be, (and as 
 probably it was before the introduction of their dry 
 culture system,) seemed to announce that some 
 calamity was overhanging me. Was I to be de- 
 prived of another wife ? or was it my only child, 
 the first-born, and now sole representative of my 
 deceased Anna ? Or was I to be called to the trial 
 of losing them both ? If there be any one who 
 can reason off the force of such temptations, I have 
 never been that person. I have found how I could 
 be sustained against them, or supported under 
 them, so as that till they should be removed I 
 might neither flinch nor fly, but I have found no- 
 thing more than this. I went to Savannah, and 
 entered on my duties there, and prosecuted my 
 labors for many months with this apprehension 
 still painfully present. But it did me no harm, if 
 it did not rather serve as a buckle to the bond 
 which held me to my work, adding the in scrip- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 211 
 
 tion of "J am debtor" to that of "As much as in 
 me is." 
 
 I found things in a much, better condition than 
 I had expected. Of the Savannah or Georgia 
 people, as distinguished from those who were there 
 on sorne business account, we had but few; and 
 of these, the city marshal, then a young man and a 
 young Methodist, was the only individual of any 
 influence in society. But there were several very 
 worthy men and well-established Methodists from 
 New York, who were invaluable to us as official 
 members. Indeed, I found myself by no means 
 on a "forlorn hope" appointment, but, on the con- 
 trary, with a pretty well organized little church 
 about me. That most excellent man, Rev. Charles 
 W. Carpenter, was then there as a local preacher, 
 and relieved me of any pecuniary responsibility, 
 by keeping the parsonage-house for us ; we having 
 ample accommodations in it, excellent fare, and 
 finding in him and his wife a brother and sister 
 whom we loved as if they had both been born ours. 
 He, too, had located in the New York Conference 
 on a temporal account, and went into business with 
 his father, (who had been a large merchant in that 
 city,) and established a branch of the concern in 
 Savannah. But Charles's ministry and merchandise 
 proved as incompatible as mine and my farming 
 had done, and the house failed. The failure was 
 one of sheer misfortune, and neither father nor son 
 was ever suspected of the slightest wrong-doing. 
 But it broke up their business, and Charles taught 
 school for a few-years, and returning to New York, 
 
212 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 reentered the itinerancy in that Conference, where 
 he has ever since been known as one of the purest 
 of men and best of ministers. The Church in 
 Savannah owes him high respect. And there is 
 another name which deserves its honor and its 
 gratitude, though not of our denomination ; as in- 
 deed it deserves of others also who are not of his 
 denomination : I mean the Rev. Dr. Henry Kol- 
 lock, a name which I have ever loved to honor. 
 Something had transpired with this great man, 
 some years before, which had involved him with 
 his presbytery. His congregation grew indignant 
 at it, and required him to withdraw from the pres- 
 bytery and identify himself with the Congrega- 
 tionalists, which was their denomination. Great 
 excitement followed, and the Presbyterians were 
 exceedingly offended. Not the Presbyterians of 
 Savannah, for I believe there were none there, or 
 if any, they were with Dr. Kollock, but the deno- 
 mination, at least as far as Charleston. The Doctor 
 was alone silent for the vindication of himself, while 
 all Savannah was in a hubbub. It must have been 
 ill-managed, though I judge not of it There was 
 offence ; and that is always a noun of multitude, 
 with at least one active verb for every nominative 
 understood. I cannot pretend to parse it, but 
 there was trouble in the Presbyterian camp, and 
 trouble in Savannah ; for Savannah seemed to be- 
 long to Dr. Kollock, as fully as he belonged to it. 
 The people of Savannah knew him and loved him 
 and honored him as they never did any other man. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 213 
 
 And no wonder, for lie was a man for any people 
 to be proud of in the first degree. There was one 
 characteristic of Dr. Kollock, however, both indis- 
 pensable and inalienable to the man, which I have 
 thought might have been chargeable with much of 
 this trouble. Of all men he seemed the last to 
 fciow the power of his influence over his people. 
 He seemed incapable of a thought of it, much less 
 of such an exertion of it as might have controlled 
 them. Could he have known and felt his power, he 
 had not been Dr. Kollock ; and while he was to be 
 seen only in the light of his own surpassing grace- 
 fulness pleading for the presbytery against himself, 
 it was a pouring of oil not on troubled waters which 
 might be made smooth, but on a raging fire which 
 should only be made more fierce for the endeavor 
 to allay it. He might have prevailed for the pres- 
 bytery, but it was impossible for him to prevail 
 against himself; and he found himself, as he 
 thought, reduced to the alternative of choosing be- 
 tween presbytery and his people. 
 
 X had come to Savannah, having heard but one 
 side of the question ; but I had heard it so fully, 
 and from persons so reliable, that my mind was 
 prejudiced against the Doctor as one who had 
 evaded discipline and kicked against the Church. 
 A great man I supposed him to be, who had not 
 proved good enough to bear to be corrected for a 
 fault, but by force of his greatness had unworthily 
 maintained himself in the ministry. I presently 
 heard of him as a friend, and was. silent ; as a good 
 
214 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 man, and answered nothing. I thought that as for 
 me, I was called to the poor, and so great a man 
 would hardly be found standing in my way. He 
 called to see me ; and I saw, I thought, in his 
 speaking countenance, the grace of his blended 
 dignity and meekness, and his eloquent conver- 
 sation, how the people had been taken by the man* 
 He attended my ministry ; and that I could not so 
 readily account for. But he had been there be- 
 fore ; had frequently been at the Methodist church, 
 and several times had preached there ; and that 
 too I could not explain. But the greatest puzzle of 
 all was, that the poorest of my poor knew him, 
 and loved him as a benefactor; and go where I 
 might among the hovels of poverty, his tracks had 
 been there ; and great as everybody knew him to 
 be, these poor people never called him great, but 
 good: "Dear, good Dr. Kollock" was their usual 
 title for him. I trust I have never been so un- 
 amiable as to prefer thinking evil rather than good 
 of any man ; but I had certainly been unjust to 
 Di\ Xollock ; and it was not till after his third call 
 that I went to see him. So cruel a thing is pre- 
 judice, and so wrong it is for one to make up his 
 mind on any matter from a showing on one side. 
 I say that I make mention of his name with gra- 
 titude, while I honor his memory as that of one of 
 the greatest men of my time.* 
 
 * I hope it will not be imputed to me, for this, that I am, or ever 
 was, a Calvinist. Dr. Kollock never suspected any such thing of me, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 215 
 
 I will relieve this seeming digression by an 
 anecdote of some years previous to this. At the 
 time of Dr. Flinn's leaving Camden for Charleston, 
 and on that account, he incurred the displeasure 
 of some of his own sect, among whom was a rather 
 cynical personage by the name of Cowser. There 
 was a synod, or some such meeting, held in 
 Charleston, at which Dr. Kollock was present, and 
 preached with great eclat. Cowser and Flinn were 
 both present, and after the sermon, the former, 
 tickled with an occasion for mortifying the latter, 
 who also was very eloquent, went up to him and 
 said, " Well, Dr. Flinn, how does it make you feel 
 to hear such a man as that?" "Why, brother 
 Cowser," answered the Doctor dryly, "I suppose it 
 may make me feel pretty much as it makes you feel 
 to hear me preach." Good, and the cynic felt the 
 retort. 
 
 From the beginning, my congregations in Savan- 
 nah were very large ; and after a short time, the 
 church might have been filled, had it been half 
 again as large as it was. Strikingly in contrast with 
 
 or of my brethren. He was too truly great and good to shut up his 
 zeal for Christ and religion to the Calvinists only. But there is a 
 class of men who do so ; and who seem to think that any courtesy 
 or service extended to a Methodist might be profane. Thus I had 
 the mortification of seeing myself published as a "Calvinist Me- 
 thodist minister," in certain quarters, because I had preached a 
 funeral sermon on the occasion of Dr. Kollock's death. And I sup- 
 pose it to be for some such reason that a certain reverend gentle- 
 man in Georgia is now stoutly affirming in the newspapers that my 
 late colleague, Bishop Bascom, was a Calvinist. 
 
216 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the church, in Wilmington in 1813, there were very 
 few negroes who attended Methodist preaching; 
 the policy of the place allowing them separate 
 churches, and the economy and doctrines of the 
 Baptist Church pleasing them better than ours. 
 There was but one side of the gallery appropriated 
 to their use, and it was always the most thinly 
 seated part of the church ; while there were two re- 
 spectably large colored churches in the city, with 
 their pastors, and deacons, and sacraments, and 
 discipline, all of their own. I had therefore little 
 access to this portion of the people, and could do 
 but little for them. Nevertheless, our few mem- 
 bers were zealous for their Church, and often had 
 controversies with their Baptist brethren in the 
 neighborhood. Fine specimens of controversy, to 
 be sure, they must have been ; and I am tempted 
 to give a sample for the benefit of controversialists 
 in general. 
 
 I was holding a love-feast for them, and Caesar, 
 an elderly African, spoke with great animation 
 of a good meeting he had had across the river, 
 at which somebody had agreed to join the Church, 
 and was now/present for that purpose. And when he 
 had sat down, it being time to conclude the ser- 
 vice, I asked him if I had understood him rightly, 
 as saying that he had brought some one to join 
 the Church. 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered he, briskly, "dat da him." 
 "But did you not say, old man, that she was a 
 Baptist?" 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 217 
 
 " Yes, sir, e Bapty." 
 
 " But why don't she stay with her own peo- 
 ple?" 
 
 Here he arose, and putting himself in an oratori- 
 cal posture, he proceeded thus : 
 
 " You see, sir, ober we side de riber, (river,) some 
 Bapty and some Metody. An de Bapty, dem say 
 de ting tan (stand) so, (motioning to the left,) and 
 de Metody, we say e tan so, (motioning to the 
 right.) An so me and bro. Tom, we bin hab 
 meetin ; and one Bapty broder bin da, and dis sister 
 bin da. An me talk pon um, an de Bapty broder 
 talk pon um ; and him talk and me talk long time. 
 An ater (after) dis sister set down da long time, an 
 yeddy (hear) we good fasin, (fashion,) e tell me say, 
 4 Bro. Csesar, me tink you right.' Me say, Ki, sister, 
 you say you tinke me right ? Me know me right. 
 So, sir, you see me bring um to you fuh (for) join 
 Church. An you know, sir, de Scripter say, de 
 strongis dog, let um hole (hold) fas." 
 
 And who might have been the weaker dog where 
 Caesar was the stronger one ? Homely work must 
 they have made of it, but I dare say they were honest, 
 which is more than I would say for some better- 
 bred controvertists, who, with a fair show of speech 
 and becoming figures, make their controversies 
 like a dog-fight, with a bone (or a book) for the 
 prize, and all under warrant of Scripture, as they 
 hold it. 
 
 We had scarcely been made comfortable in our 
 new quarters, before I found that our infant Church 
 10 
 
218 
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 was heavily in debt. And as I thought it better to 
 clear away the rubbish at first, I immediately un- 
 dertook a journey by the way of our liberal friends 
 on Black Swamp, in Beaufort District, to Charles- 
 ton, for the purpose of removing this incubus. I 
 was gone about three weeks, when I returned with 
 eighteen hundred dollars, which, together with an 
 arrangement for renting part of the parsonage- 
 house for a few years, (which had been constructed 
 with a view to something of the sort,) cancelled the 
 debt, and set us at liberty. The class and public 
 collections were ample for all our wants, and, as 
 regarded temporal things, there was no lack. I 
 might not say that we " fared sumptuously every 
 day," but we had a comfortable sufficiency of all 
 good things. And this was that "forlorn hope," 
 which had been considered so very trying that my 
 good Bishop would not send me to it till he had 
 first got my consent to go. 
 
 "With respect to the more important matters of 
 ministerial success, it was manifest that in neither 
 of the towns where I had been, was there so fair a 
 prospect of establishing our Church as here. Dr. 
 Kollock was right in judging that there was a large 
 and respectable portion of the community for whom 
 the Methodist ministry promised the most likely 
 means of conversion. And it was this judgment 
 of that noble-minded man which induced him to 
 befriend us. As time passed on, it was seen that 
 we had gained a permanent congregation, who 
 worshipped nowhere else, but morning, afternoon, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 219 
 
 and evening were to be found at the Methodist 
 church. And a more decorous congregation I have 
 never preached to. 
 
 As the sickly season came on, I found myself 
 gradually relieved of the painful apprehension 
 which had been so troublesome before. There was 
 an event before us for Mrs. Capers, but it came off 
 favorably, and the 8th of August gave us a son, 
 Francis Withers. My first son, William Theo- 
 dotus, whose birth had proved the occasion of his 
 mother's death, had died about the time of my 
 second marriage. 
 
 An affectionate people, a kind and respectful 
 community, crowded congregations, and our meet- 
 ings for Christian fellowship well attended and 
 profitable, made this year one to be remembered. 
 What was thought to be the hardest appointment 
 I could have received, proved the best I ever had 
 had. And a better, no one need desire, of my 
 pretensions, and with my aims in view. Every 
 thing went well. During the summer it became 
 apparent that the health of our friend, and every- 
 body's friend, Dr. Kollock, was permanently in- 
 jured. His flesh shrunk, he grew pale and wan, 
 his countenance lost its vivacity, and he was unable 
 to fulfil the duties of the pulpit or the pastorate. 
 
 It was not for the honor, God knows, but from a 
 grateful sense of duty, that I did what I could to 
 supply his lack of service, and preached for him 
 generally once on the Sabbath day. His strength 
 declined more and more, till he was struck with para- 
 
220 
 
 LIFE OF 
 
 WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 lysis, of which he died. It was on Sunday, just as he 
 was entering the door of his house on his return 
 from church, that he suffered the fatal shock which 
 deprived him instantly of consciousness, and, after 
 a few days, of life. And I am the more particular 
 to mention it, that I may notice what has always 
 appeared to me the most imposing and affecting 
 exhibition of Christian sympathy that I have ever 
 witnessed. Prayers were offered in all the churches 
 for him in the after-services of that melancholy 
 day, of course ; but what I allude to was the as- 
 sembling of his congregation daily, morning and 
 afternoon, with the ministers and members of the 
 other Churches, in his church, to offer prayers to 
 God for him. The Episcopalian minister was not 
 w r ith us, only for the reason that a " higher law" 
 than humanity or charity, public virtue or personal 
 worth, required his absence. Nothing under hea- 
 ven might induce the Jews and Samaritans to pray 
 together, though they might pray by themselves 
 apart; and Christians of the nineteenth century, 
 for being under the obligations of a like " higher 
 law," might not invalidate their exclusiveness on 
 any possible account. But it was affecting to be 
 there. The multitude of persons assembled, the 
 all-pervading solemnity of the scene, the intense 
 interest manifested in the prayers, and the tears 
 that accompanied them, while the man of God, 
 whom all had honored for his virtues and his 
 talents, and whose eloquent tongue had been so 
 often listened to in that house with rapture, lay 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 221 
 
 speechless, motionless, unconscious on the bed of 
 death, all conspired with unexampled power to im- 
 press us deeply. The physicians (who were always 
 with him) had told us that his death was certain, 
 and that it was impossible for him to recover con- 
 sciousness, though he might linger for some time 
 in that unconscious state. And this was especially 
 deprecated. Earnest, fervent prayers -were offered 
 that it might please our Heavenly Father to restore 
 him to his senses, if but for an hour; and this 
 boon, so earnestly entreated for, was granted while 
 we were at prayer on the morning of the third day. 
 I was leading the exercises, when a messenger 
 announced that our sick friend had called for me, 
 and, giving the book to another, I instantly obeyed 
 the summons. He was deathly pale, and the 
 muscles of his face looked relaxed and flabby, but 
 his eye was that of Dr. Kollock in his best estate, 
 except a weakness of one of his eyelids. As I took 
 his hand, and said, "God is with you, my dear sir," 
 he answered by repeating 2 Cor. i. 5, "For as the 
 sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consola- 
 tion also aboundeth by Christ." He seemed to 
 know that it would cost him an effort, and spoke 
 very slowly but distinctly each word of the text as 
 above. He evidently was happy, knowing himself 
 to be on the verge of Jordan, and his Redeemer 
 with him. Several hours were allowed him, of un- 
 speakable interest to his family and friends, in this 
 calm triumph over death and the grave, and he fell 
 asleep in Jesus. (And I repeat, that I esteem him 
 
222 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 to have been one of the noblest of men.) The 
 death of a good man is always a loss, and more the 
 death of a good minister ; but the death of Dr. 
 Kollock was a public calamity which every one 
 deplored, and of which the public feeling sought 
 to express itself in the strongest manner possible. 
 
 The Conference at the close of the year was held 
 in Charleston, and was attended by Bishop Mc- 
 Kendree. I was returned to Savannah for the year 
 1820 ; and this being the session for the election of 
 delegates to the General Conference in May, 1820, 
 I was chosen one of that number. 
 
 Returning to Savannah, I had the satisfaction of 
 receiving a most hearty welcome from the Church 
 and the community; and I resumed the labors of 
 my ministry with a cheerful spirit. The time passed 
 pleasantly on, in the usual course of preaching 
 three times every Sabbath day, and on "Wednesday 
 evenings, holding one or two prayer-meetings, and 
 visiting the classes weekly, and whatever else my 
 hand found to do. I had much to encourage, 
 and nothing worth mention to perplex or embarrass 
 me. 
 
 The General Conference at Baltimore, May 1, 
 required me to leave my charge early in April, that 
 I might attend it. Our mode of travelling was 
 overland to Petersburg, and thence (or rather from 
 City Point) to Baltimore by steamboat. 
 
 At this General Conference, I introduced the 
 measure instituting District Conferences for the 
 local preachers. It was my first essay at making 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 223 
 
 rules and regulations for the Church, and was alike 
 successful and unlucky. It was successful, inas- 
 much as it carried; and carried too without any 
 serious opposition from any quarter ; and, I think, 
 with less discussion and greater unanimity than I 
 have ever known in the adoption of any measure 
 which proposed the introduction of a new feature 
 into our economy, except only the Plan of Separa- 
 tion in 1844. But it was unlucky, and had better 
 not have been adopted, by the fault of certain local 
 preachers of the Baltimore Conference, and in 
 some other parts of the Connection north of Balti- 
 more, who perverted it to purposes of mischief. 
 And it is probable that this was induced, in part, 
 by the discussion of "the Presiding Elder ques- 
 tion," which was warmly, if not angrily, urged at 
 that General Conference, in presence of those very 
 local preachers who were shortly to give us trou- 
 ble. But I have yet to be convinced that this mea- 
 sure of District Conferences deserves to be consid- 
 ered "a startling innovation" as Dr. Bangs calls it 
 in his History of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 (vol. iii., page 142, edition 1841,) or that the 
 abuses by which it was dishonored, if "foreseen" 
 by any member of the General Conference, were 
 brought to the notice of that body. There may 
 have been those who, knowing the temper of local 
 preachers in parts of the 'Connection unknown to 
 me, foresaw or suspected what came to pass in the 
 action of a few of the District Conferences, as 
 above stated; but I am sure that I heard of no 
 
224 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 such prognostications before the event, neither in 
 the General Conference, nor out of it. I sincerely 
 attribute the failure of the District Conferences to 
 the agitation of "the Presiding Elder question" in 
 view of the importance which was given to it, and 
 the vehemence with which it was urged. And to 
 the same source is traceable all the "radical" dis- 
 turbances which resulted in the formation of the 
 Protestant Methodist Church. We learn from the 
 same author that many of the local preachers them- 
 selves were much dissatisfied with the District 
 Conference, while "in others, where they were most 
 active in 'procuring the passage of the law creating and 
 defining the powers of this Conference, a spirit of in- 
 subordination incompatible with the rights and 
 privileges of the itinerancy began to manifest itself, 
 and there can be no doubt that this injudicious 
 measure, which had been presented to and carried 
 through the Conference with some precipitancy, 
 tended to foment that spirit of radicalism which 
 ended in the secession of the party who styled them- 
 selves reformers, and who have since organized 
 under the name of the " Protestant Methodist 
 Church." 
 
 It is certainly an error to ascribe to the District 
 Conferences a tendency to foment the spirit of 
 radicalism ; for there was nothing in the nature of 
 the institution, nor in the act of the General Con- 
 ference granting it, which might have any such 
 tendency. Its whole scope and design was to 
 elevate and improve the local preachers, and to 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 225 
 
 bring them into closer connection with the itine- 
 rancy. But something there was which " tended 
 to foment that spirit of radicalism/' and of that 
 something the historian was not so free to speak, 
 for, unfortunately, he was on the wrong side, and 
 one of the principal advocates of the measure ; I 
 mean the proposition to transfer from the Bishops 
 to the Annual Conferences the appointment of 
 Presiding Elders, which next to the question of 
 slavery was the most mischievous, and was alto- 
 gether the most "radical/' and most vehemently 
 insisted on, of all the questions which have dis- 
 tracted General Conferences in my time. The 
 debate at this Conference I have already character- 
 ized as vehement, if not angry. The power of the 
 Bishops was assailed as incompatible with the prin- 
 ciples of right government, and while no instance 
 was adduced, nor could be adduced, of an abuse of 
 that power to the injury of any one, its curtail- 
 ment was insisted on with as much earnestness as 
 if heaven and earth had been staked on the issue. 
 That the Bishop was elected by the eldership, and 
 held to the strictest accountability to that elder- 
 ship for every act of his administration, was not 
 sufficient for any thing but tyranny, as the inno- 
 vators held it, but required the balance of a set of 
 men to be elected in each Annual Conference for 
 the purpose of dictating to the Bishop the action 
 which he alone should be answerable for. If I 
 have known what has been meant by the word 
 "radical," I first heard the principles of radicalism 
 10* 
 
226 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 broached and insisted on in tliat General Confer- 
 ence of 1820. There the local preachers had their 
 radicalism instilled into them, or if not, and they 
 were radicals before, they must have been greatly 
 comforted and edified in their previous faith by 
 what they heard from travelling preachers. At 
 any rate, the same outcry against the power of the 
 Bishops which has been the key-note of radicalism 
 from that day to this, was raised to a high pitch by 
 that party of travelling preachers who insisted on 
 electing the Presiding Elders as a check on the 
 authority of the Bishops ; and it continued to 
 be vociferated at several successive General Con- 
 ferences, till its evident evil fruits in the radical 
 secession gave it its end. It was my opinion at 
 the time, and I have not been enabled to change it 
 by any thing I have known since, that the object 
 of that party in the itinerant ministry was to en- 
 feeble the administration in the appointment of the 
 preachers, that the itinerancy might be made more 
 convenient to them. Their fears of the episcopal 
 authority supplied the place of any known or 
 alleged impropriety on the part of the Bishops in 
 the exercise of the appointing power. They did 
 not mean a revolution which should set aside the 
 Episcopacy altogether, but they both meant, and 
 plied their utmost efforts to effect, such an enfeeble- 
 ment of it, as we believed would lead ultimately to 
 that result. So also I would say of the local 
 preachers who appeared so deeply interested for 
 their success, and who, till the secession, were un- 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 227 
 
 derstood to be in correspondence with, that kindred 
 party of itinerants. I have no idea that, at the 
 first, they intended either revolution or secession, 
 but that with the measure which proposed to give 
 leading ministers a positive influence over their 
 appointments in the itinerancy, or shortly to follow 
 it, there should be allowed a delegation of local 
 preachers, under the name of a lay delegation, in 
 the General Conference. This was hinted at by 
 more than one speaker, and oftener than once or 
 twice, during the discussion on "the Presiding 
 Elder question, " as a thing right and proper to be 
 done. 
 
 But of all these things I was entirely ignorant 
 when I drew up in Savannah, in the month of 
 March, the plan for improving the local preachers 
 by the institution of a District Conference. I no 
 more dreamed of the radicalism of a lay delegation 
 to the General Conference, for the purpose of in- 
 troducing local preachers there, than of that other 
 feature of the same thing, which I was astonished 
 to hear so stoutly advocated by leading ministers 
 of the itinerancy in the General Conference, re- 
 specting the power which should appoint the 
 preachers. I have ever considered these two prin- 
 ciples — a delegation of local preachers in the Gen- 
 eral Conference, and the travelling preachers taking 
 a share in their own appointments — as being alike 
 "radical" with respect to the economy of Method- 
 ism. But at this General Conference of 1820, let 
 it be remembered, the disturbing question was not 
 that of a lay delegation, but of the election of the 
 
228 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Presiding Elders by the Annual Conferences as a 
 check on the authority proper to the Bishops ; and 
 the disturbers were not local preachers, but travel- 
 ling preachers, from whom and their question the 
 transition was easy and natural to the local 
 preachers and their question. It was most unfor- 
 tunate that the District Conference should have 
 been introduced into our economy at such a time ; 
 the most unpropitious that could have been fallen on. 
 
 The entire measure, first and last, was conceived 
 and proposed by myself. I had neither conference, 
 conversation, nor correspondence with any local 
 preacher on the subject, neither before the General 
 Conference, nor during the time of its session, prior 
 to its final action on the subject, neither at home, 
 at Baltimore, nor anywhere else. I have already* 
 said that I was entirely ignorant of any dissatisfac- 
 tion (nor to say insubordination) among the local 
 preachers in any part of the Connection, but sup- 
 posed them to be in other Conferences, as I knew 
 them to be in the South Carolina Conference, as well 
 satisfied with the economy of the Church as any 
 other portion of her members were. I now believe, 
 and have long since believed, that there were about 
 Baltimore, and perhaps north of it, certain eminent 
 local preachers who, at the time of the General 
 Conference in 1820, were dissatisfied with the 
 economy of the Church, in so far as it excluded 
 them from a direct participation in its government ; 
 but I neither knew it nor suspected it at the time; 
 nor did I know any thing then about the men, 
 more than the respectability of their names. 
 
LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS, 
 
 FROM 
 
 HIS THIRTY-FIRST YEAR TO HIS DEATH. 
 BY WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN, D.D. 
 
LIFE 
 
 0 F 
 
 WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Value of autobiography — Mr. Capers appointed Superintendent 
 of a Mission to the Creek Indians — Stationed at Milledgeville, 
 Georgia. 
 
 The foregoing autobiography traces minutely, 
 and with fidelity, the inner life as well as the out- 
 ward circumstances of William Capers, from in- 
 fancy up to his thirty-first year. It lays bare the 
 formative influences, parental, domestic, and edu- 
 cational, which produced the man. We are per- 
 mitted to see the boy-impulses ripening into char- 
 acter and manners; the aspirations of ambitious 
 youth ; the providential ordering of early circum- 
 stances so as to make them all converge upon the 
 great life-determining event — his conversion to 
 God. Sharply defined, admitting of no after-doubt, 
 the realized result of a Divine visitation, conferring 
 
 (231) 
 
232 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS, 
 
 stable peace of mind and all the attributes of the 
 renewed character, this grand crisis is the point of 
 departure from which, having " broken with the 
 world," his course of public usefulness began, en- 
 larging into distinguished eminence, and termi- 
 nating at length in the laurelled honors of a trium- 
 phant death, and a memory precious and embalmed 
 in the affections of a sorrowing Church. 
 
 We are now to trace the incidents of a public 
 life, extending from his thirty-first to his sixty-fifth 
 year ; crowded with labors and responsibilities ; 
 acted out in the presence of a great cloud of wit- 
 nesses ; touching the story of the Methodist Church 
 at many vital points ; illustrating the care of a 
 watchful Providence ; made signal by the presence 
 of the paramount law of duty; displaying the 
 "triple nobility of nature, culture, and faith;" 
 lived out to its last act without fear and without 
 reproach, and conferring upon society advantages, 
 moral and spiritual, of the highest worth. What- 
 ever belonged to him of dignity, of unity of char- 
 acter, of lofty purpose, of sustained energy and 
 activity: in a word, every element which contrib- 
 uted its force in winning the battle of life and 
 achieving distinction, may be referred to the domi- 
 nation of the religious principle in his heart. The 
 whole life, in its manifold relations, crowded with 
 active engagements, brilliant in many of its pas- 
 sages, and not free from the touch of sorrow and 
 the pressure of adversity, is formed on the grand 
 ideas of religion. It is a noble development of the 
 
THE CREEK INDIANS. 
 
 233 
 
 true theory of life. The foundation-maxim of the 
 whole was, that the value of any thing is the price 
 it will bear in eternity. Steering steadily by 
 the light of this guiding principle, nothing was 
 trusted to the accidents of winds and waves ; the 
 right direction was always maintained, and the 
 right port made at the end. 
 
 The Missionary Society of the Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church was organized in 1819, in the city 
 of New York ; and at the General Conference, held 
 the next year, the constitution was amended, and 
 branch societies were recommended to be formed in 
 all the Annual Conferences. The first mission estab- 
 lished was among the Wyandot Indians, a tribe in 
 Ohio. The next was a mission to the Creek In- 
 dians, occupying, at that time, lands in Georgia 
 and Alabama, east and west of the Chattahoochee 
 
 mi.:. . V « . 
 
 river. At the session of the South Carolina Con- 
 ference of 1821, Mr. Capers was selected by Bishop 
 McKendree to set on foot this mission. Leaving 
 his family in Savannah until April, Mr. Capers set 
 out on horseback on an extensive tour of appoint- 
 ments, for the purpose of awakening public atten- 
 tion to the moral and religious improvement of this 
 tribe of Indians, who occupied the western frontier 
 of the Conference. Contributions were solicited 
 for the purpose of erecting mission premises, and 
 establishing a school ; and the project, in the hands 
 of so eloquent an advocate, met with general favor. 
 
 In April, six weeks after the birth of his daughter, 
 Susan, now the wife of Prof. Stone, of Emory Col- 
 
234 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 lege, lie removed his family to Georgetown, South. 
 Carolina. Heavy rains had fallen, and rivers and 
 creeks were swollen with freshets. Mr. Capers 
 was driving the carriage containing his wife, chil- 
 dren, and nurse ; and coming to a long bridge, drove 
 upon it without knowing that the farther end was 
 washed away. Some workmen, however, happened 
 to be near, and by their aid a bateau was brought 
 up, and Mrs. Capers and the children were carried 
 safely to land. Mr. Capers then loosed the horses, 
 and sitting in the bateau, plunged them through, 
 holding the reins. The carriage was then floated 
 over without much damage. Farther on, a deep 
 creek was passed by means of a floating log, over 
 which the family were transported, while Mr. 
 Capers swam the horses and carriage over. 
 
 On the 19th of August he left Augusta on his 
 way to the Creek Indians. This tour was under- 
 taken to ascertain whether they could be persuaded 
 to receive missionaries among them, inasmuch as, 
 some time previously, they had declined being thus 
 served. At Clinton Mr. Capers was joined by Col. 
 E. A. Blount, a personal friend, and an invaluable 
 ally in this enterprise. The Governor of Georgia 
 waited on him at Milledgeville, and tendered his 
 official recommendation under the seal of the Ex- 
 ecutive Department. On the 29th, Col. Blount 
 and he set out on horseback, each with a blanket, 
 great-coat, umbrella, saddlebags, and wallet. They 
 carried sugar and coffee ; and on one side of Mr. Ca- 
 pers' s saddle hung a coffee-pot, on the other a tin- 
 
THE CREEK INDIANS. 
 
 235 
 
 cup. They entered the Creek nation on the 1st of 
 September. On the next day, Sunday, he preached 
 the first missionary sermon ever heard in the then 
 dreary country between the Flint and Chatta- 
 hoochee rivers. This was at the house of a Mr. 
 Spain ; his congregation consisting of a few whites 
 and blacks, and five Indians. The text was appro- 
 priate : "The land of Zabulon, and the land' of 
 ITephthalim, by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, 
 Galilee of the Gentiles : The people which sat in 
 darkness saw great light, and to them which sat in 
 the region and shadow of death light is sprung up." 
 The liext day they reached the house of a Mr. Por- 
 ter, and the day following passed five or six miles 
 up the river, through rich, low grounds. Here 
 they reached Coweta, the principal part of the 
 town lying on the east side of the Chattahoochee. 
 Crossing the ferry, they entered the public square, 
 where they found Col. Mcintosh, one of the chiefs. 
 Mr. Capers gave him some letters, and was told 
 that an interview would be afforded him on the next 
 morning. 
 
 Here he witnessed an Indian ball-play. As one 
 of the principal sports of savage life, Mr. Capers's 
 description of it may interest the reader: " There 
 now arrived a company of players, who, upon 
 coming up to the square, raised a yell, and ran furi- 
 ously around, whooping and yelling, with short, 
 exact pauses as they ran — every individual changing 
 his voice and pausing simultaneously. I confess I 
 felt what might be called a fine effect. "Waugh, 
 
236 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 waugh, waugh, distinctly hallooed by an hundred 
 loud voices, every one breathing a like sound at the 
 same breath, and pausing between Jthe repetition 
 just long enough for the full play of the lungs 
 upon the sound that should follow ; and the deep, 
 full sound of waugh, suddenly, but with the nicest 
 precision, lifted into a most piercing yell — and 
 this, in turn, changed for a softer note — and then 
 all alternated, produced a pleasurable amazement. 
 I could not but observe how well adapted was the 
 arrangement of the sounds, and the time they were 
 uttered in, to produce the loudest effort of the 
 voice with the least fatigue. This exercise was 
 called a challenge, and I suppose those who per- 
 formed it were to act together in the play. They 
 had reduced their dress to a single piece of blue or 
 red woollen cloth, thirty or forty inches long and 
 eight wide, passing closely under the body, and 
 supported by a strong string about the waist, the 
 ends falling over the string and forming a flap 
 before and behind. These flaps were narrowed 
 down to four inches width, or tapered to a point, 
 and bound with green, red, or yellow ferretting, 
 according to the taste and ability of the wearer. 
 It is the only garment that modesty obliged an 
 Indian to wear. Fastened under the string that 
 supports this nameless covering, from the bottom 
 of the back rising upwards to the shoulder-blade, 
 the more highly ornamented players wore a tail of 
 the tiger, or fox, or wolf, or furs twisted together 
 so as to resemble this; and sometimes a single 
 
INDIAN BALL-PLAY. 
 
 237 
 
 feather, or a mop of them, taken from the goose, 
 or cock, or owl, substituted a plume. These, with 
 wide woollen garters, earrings, and a little paint 
 or soot blotched upon the face, dressed them to 
 their highest wishes. 
 
 " But more remarkable than even their undress 
 or their music, was the wonderful manner of their 
 running round a small tree during the challenge. 
 Huddled together within a diameter of thirty or 
 forty feet, every individual was in rapid motion, 
 without contracting or extending the circle, and 
 with such regularity that those nearest the centre 
 never jostled each other. Their regularity was 
 like the wheeling of a platoon, and the swiftness 
 of their motion like a wheel upon its axle. 
 
 " The challenge over, they went off separately, 
 and we soon after followed to the place of their 
 amusement. * It was a level but not very open 
 piece of mixed woods, about three hundred yards 
 distant from the square. We were quite in time 
 to observe all the preparation for the play. Two 
 small saplings, at their base four feet apart, 
 and inclined outwards at top, were stuck into the 
 earth at either end of the ball-ground, a distance 
 of one hundred and fifty yards. Just beyond, at 
 the nearer pair of poles, a company of players were 
 irregularly tossing and catching a ball with their 
 sticks ; and nearer us the women and children were 
 squatted about, listlessly waiting the play. A 
 number of Indians (and the number constantly in- 
 creasing) were lounging all about us. Here was 
 
238 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Tustunnnggee Hopoi (the Little Prince) and Mc- 
 intosh ; the one sitting on the bare ground, with 
 his back supported against a tree ; the other tying 
 at full length, undistinguished among the herd of 
 loiterers. I was surprised to observe them neither 
 better dressed nor more attended than the rest, 
 Hopoi's countenance was more in character than 
 his apparel ; but Mcintosh, with a shrewder look, 
 that would seem to hide himself, discovered nothing 
 of the chief about him. 
 
 "Here and there I could observe one proposing 
 a wager. A pair of bells, tobacco, and some money 
 were exposed for betting ; but bets were not fre- 
 quent. The hurried action of the increased com- 
 pany of players, apprised us that the play would 
 soon commence. Now the opposite company of 
 players were discovered beyond the farther pair of 
 poles. A well-dressed Indian, mounted on a good 
 pony, galloped hastily along the ground from party 
 to party, as if to arrange for their coming together. 
 Immediately those I had first observed huddled 
 themselves for the challenge. This was begun a 
 little beyond and to the left of the poles, and con- 
 tinued as at the square, only that the group main- 
 tained a direction toward the poles at the same 
 time with their swift vertical running. When op- 
 posite the poles, their opponents exhibited the same 
 manoeuvre, and then, with the wildest gesticula- 
 tion and great clamor, both parties ran together. 
 
 " Lovett had placed himself midway between the 
 poles, and served as the pivot on which the whole 
 
INDIAN BALL-PLAY. 
 
 239 
 
 seemed to turn for five minutes ; while their whoops 
 and yells (measured and alternated as before, but 
 with redoubled violence) roused the whole con- 
 course of spectators to their feet. A pause ensued. 
 The equal number of the parties was ascertained 
 by their laying down in opposite rows their ball- 
 sticks. These resemble a battledoor, only that the 
 hooped end of the stick is not so broad, and, instead 
 of being overlaid with parchment, has only a few 
 slack strings drawn across the hoop, close enough to 
 retain the ball, and not so slack as to entangle it. 
 There were one hundred and fifty pair of sticks, 
 and these ascertained to be equally divided, seven- 
 ty-five players being on either side. 
 
 " The parties having been found equal, each took 
 up their sticks, and placed themselves promiscu- 
 ously about the ground, the greater number stand- 
 ing near the centre. Every countenance was ex- 
 pressive of eager expectation until the ball was 
 tossed up and the play began. Either party strove 
 against the other to throw the ball between an op- 
 posite pair of poles, for which purpose the sticks 
 only were to be used. Their dexterity in this, and 
 their adroitness in foiling each other, were indeed 
 surprising. As soon as either party had succeeded 
 to throw the ball between the poles, another 
 was tossed up from the centre of the ground ; and 
 their violent exercise, without the slightest inter- 
 mission, was continued nearly three hours. Each 
 party had gained the ball seventeen times, when 
 the dusk of evening concluded their unfinished 
 
240 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 game. Mcintosh, signified to them that they should 
 desist, and placed himself for their rally ing-point, 
 round which their shouts and yells were bellowed 
 forth with more breath, than ever; and they all 
 dispersed. 
 
 " It would be difficult to tell the feelings under 
 which my mind labored through the scenes of this 
 day. I hope I have never been insensible to the 
 moral condition of the heathen ; and since my ap- 
 pointment as the Conference missionary, it has 
 employed my thoughts and my care far more than 
 formerly. I had read something and imagined 
 more, but the scene was laid at too great a distance. 
 I had not supposed that so close at the door of 
 civilized man — -just beyond sight of the Bible and 
 the sound of our sacred services — there could exist 
 so gross a state of human degradation. The 
 evidence of my own senses, in the sudden, shame- 
 ful scene at the river, amazed and dejected me; 
 and now, that for four long hours I had witnessed 
 the whole parade of whooping and yelling, of paint 
 and nakedness, I had scarcely any spirit left*" 
 
 They passed the night at Noble Kennard's, one 
 of the head men at Coweta, and brother-in-law of 
 Mcintosh, who had distinguished himself in the 
 late war. The next morning Mcintosh, accom- 
 panied with Lovett as an interpreter, waited on 
 Mr. Capers. He was a half-breed, understood Eng- 
 lish very well, and had served under Gen. Jackson 
 in the Seminole war in 1818. Indian etiquette re- 
 quired, however, that he should communicate with 
 
PRELIMINARIES SETTLED. 241 
 
 Mr. Capers only through an interpreter. He intro- 
 duced the conversation by saying that he had come 
 as he had promised, and waited to hear what was 
 to be said. Mr. Capers replied that he came only 
 on the errand of charity, as the agent of the Church, 
 and under the patronage of government. The gov- 
 ernment wished to better the condition of the In- 
 dians by having their children instructed, and the 
 Churches felt it their sacred duty to go forward in 
 this good work ; that neither their money nor their 
 lands were sought, but only an opportunity to do them 
 good ; that for eight months he had been employed 
 in preaching and making collections to defray the 
 expenses of a school, and was ready to introduce 
 one among them ; that, to assure the chiefs of his 
 good intentions, and the benevolence of the Church 
 he represented, he had letters from Gov. Clark, and 
 from Generals Meriwether, Mcintosh, and Mitchell, 
 of Georgia, all which Col. Blount would read to 
 him ; and that he had also a letter from Mr. Cal- 
 houn, Secretary of War, to Mr. Crowell, their 
 agent; and, finally, that he had committed to 
 writing the substance of what he had to propose to 
 the chiefs. Mcintosh wished to hear the letters 
 read, and the paper that contained the " talk" to the 
 chiefs, saying at the same time that neither he nor 
 the chiefs then at Coweta^ could conclude any thing 
 on the business, but must wait a General Council 
 of all the chiefs of the nation, without winch, and 
 the consent of the agent, no white man could be 
 permitted to live among them. The papers were 
 11 
 
242 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 accordingly read by Col. Blount ; after which Mc- 
 intosh signified his approval of the proposed object, 
 and appeared pleased with the conditions specified. 
 He suggested that the papers should be confided to 
 Lovett until the meeting of the Council, which he 
 assured Mr. Capers should be held as soon as pos- 
 sible after the agent's return. 
 
 In October Mr. Capers made a second visit to 
 the Creeks, accompanied by the Eev. C. G. Hill, 
 who had been selected to reside in the nation in 
 the event of a successful application. The National 
 Council was held early in November, and the 
 articles of agreement submitted were accepted by 
 the chiefs. Mr. Hill was left to board with Lovett, 
 and Mr. Capers set out immediately for Augusta 
 to procure supplies and employ workmen ; having 
 shown address equal to his zeal in managing a 
 negotiation peculiarly difficult under the circum- 
 stances. On his way back he attended a camp- 
 meeting in Jones county. The transition from an 
 Indian council to a camp-meeting awakened strong 
 emotions in him ; he describes his feelings in the 
 following paragraph: "It was night, and I had 
 lost my way, but my mind was intent upon the 
 meeting. I was hasting to forget the vulgar scenes 
 of savage life in the solemn services of our Im- 
 manuel. I was prepared to admire the illuminated 
 ground, the multitude of worshippers, the order of 
 the encampment, when, at 8 o'clock in the evening, 
 I reached this happy place. < Blessed is the nation 
 whose God is the Lord !' Blessed be God who hath 
 
THE MISSION BEGUN. 
 
 243 
 
 made us sucli a nation! Here are they who love 
 and serve the Saviour. Here the hard heart is 
 broken, and the penitent rejoice. The Church ex- 
 ults in Christ — Christ owns the Church. I too will 
 rejoice in this great mercy. When shall all flesh 
 see the salvation of God? "When shall the now 
 imbruted Indian ' call Jesus Lord by the Holy 
 Ghost V Christians, by all the blessings you enjoy, 
 charge yourselves to pray and care for these." 
 
 In the course of the next year, mission premises 
 were erected one mile west of the Chattahoochee, 
 not far from Coweta. The station was named 
 after the venerable Asbury, and was served by the 
 Rev. Isaac Smith, the appointment of Mr. Capers 
 as superintendent being continued. Opposition, 
 however, soon showed itself. One of the- chiefs, 
 Big Warrior, openly avowed himself hostile to the 
 work of preaching the gospel among the Indians. 
 Some degraded white men, who lived on the out- 
 skirts of the nation, in the " back-water" of the 
 stream of civilization, encouraged this opposition. 
 The agent had little use for preachers, though he 
 did not so far violate the instructions of the Secre- 
 tary of War as to oppose the school project. In 
 the face of these discouragements Mr. Smith opened 
 a school consisting of twelve Indian children. The 
 number doubled itself in" a week. And during the 
 five or six years of its continuance, until the re- 
 moval of the Creeks beyond the Mississippi, the 
 mission school varied from thirty-five to fifty 
 scholars in regular attendance. The progress of 
 
244 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the children in learning was satisfactory, although 
 the Creek nation was considered inferior in intel- 
 ligence to their neighbors, the Cherokees. There is 
 preserved in the museum of Wofford College a 
 memento of the capabilities of the Indian boys. 
 It is a copy, in Eoman letters, of one of the Meth- 
 odist hymns, commencing: 
 
 "Come, thou Omniscient Son of man," 
 
 which was made in the presence of Mr. Smith, by 
 an Indian lad, nearly grown up, who came in 1822 
 to the mission school, and requested to be taken as 
 a scholar. The school was pretty full, and the mis- 
 sionaries did not prefer to take so large a pupil. 
 To make a favorable impression of his abilities, he 
 went to a desk and copied, without knowing a 
 letter, the hymn aforementioned. The specimen 
 of native genius thus executed is highly creditable, 
 and the boy was admitted. 
 
 The United States Government, wisely, and in 
 accordance with the wishes of the great body of the 
 American people, made, at that period of the his- 
 tory of Indian affairs, an annual appropriation of 
 ten thousand dollars, for the purpose of aiding in 
 the civilization of the Indian tribes. In 1824 ap- 
 propriations were made to twenty educational 
 establishments, principally Presbyterian and Bap- 
 tist, set on foot for the improvement of the In- 
 dians ; among these there was one of five hundred 
 dollars made to the Mission Committee of the 
 Ohio Conference, in behalf of the mission school 
 
AT MILLEDGS VILLE. 
 
 245 
 
 among the Wyandots. From first to last, the As- 
 bury mission school among the Creeks received not 
 a dollar of the government appropriations. The 
 whole burden of sustaining it was met by voluntary 
 contributions within the limits of the South Caro- 
 lina Conference — then embracing Georgia. Mr. 
 Capers gave his full strength and time, during 1821 
 and 1822, to the task of soliciting these contri- 
 butions. A gratifying success attended his efforts, 
 though they involved protracted absences from his 
 family, and much fatigue and exposure in horse- 
 back travelling, and no small amount of preaching. 
 His noble devotion to the cause of missions, illus- 
 trated by the whole course of his life, has left its 
 impress on the Conference of which he was a 
 distinguished member. Several of the sermons 
 preached by him in the course of these two years, 
 were regarded at the time as among the most 
 powerful efforts of the American pulpit. 
 
 During the two following years, Mr. Capers was 
 stationed at Milledgeville, Georgia, and continued 
 Superintendent of the Asbury Mission. His family 
 had spent the former part of 1822 in Sumter Dis- 
 trict, South Carolina, at the residence of the Rev. 
 T. D. Glenn, a brother-in-law ; and the latter part 
 of the year in the hospitable mansion of his early 
 and long-continued friend, John H. Mann, Esq., 
 of Augusta, Georgia. At Milledgeville^there was 
 no parsonage ; but Governor Clark, whose wife was 
 a Methodist lady, having moved to a summer 
 retreat at Scottsboro', a short distance from Mil- 
 
246 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 ledgeville, his residence, handsomely furnished, 
 was kindly put at the disposal of the stewards for 
 Mr. Capers' s purposes. In the course of the year 
 a parsonage was built and well furnished, and Mr. 
 Capers moved into it in 1824. The location proved 
 to be unhealthy, and the children were sick with 
 bilious fever. On the 15th October, his little 
 daughter, Esther Anslie, died. His daughter 
 Susan was so ill that all hope of her recovery was 
 given up. On Sunday morning, the Methodist 
 church, being the only one open at that time, was 
 crowded. As the time for Divine service approach- 
 ed, a painful conflict arose in Mr. Capers's mind, 
 between the sense of duty to a large congregation, 
 and the distressing apprehensions of a father's feel- 
 ings that his child would die while he was absent. 
 His hesitation was only for a moment. Kneeling 
 by her bed he committed her case to God, took 
 leave of her, and went to the church. Just then, 
 the "family physician, Dr. Williamson, came in, 
 and after administering some medicine, had the 
 pleasure to witness a speedy change for the better 
 in the sick child. The Doctor told Mrs. Capers 
 that he would relieve Mr. Capers's mind by an- 
 nouncing the change to him ; and accordingly went 
 into the church, and quietly approaching the pulpit, 
 interrupted the sermon for a moment by whisper- 
 ing the pleasing intelligence. The painful emo- 
 tion of the audience, all of whom knew the fact of 
 the child's extreme illness, was immediately re- 
 lieved by a brief announcement of the news brought 
 
AT MILLEDGE VILLE. 
 
 247 
 
 him by the physician. He resumed his sermon 
 with a deepened throb of gratitude to God, and 
 with powerful effect upon the listeners. He preach- 
 ed again, in the afternoon, and at night ; and the 
 pulpit ministrations of that day, which had risen 
 in such gloom over the pastor's family, were me- 
 morable as the means of conversion to several 
 persons, and of great spiritual good to many 
 others. 
 
 During most of the time his Sunday's work was 
 a sunrise sermon at the Penitentiary, and three 
 services at his own church, besides administering 
 catechetical instruction to the children, in the in- 
 tervals of public worship. God was with him, and 
 made his labors a blessing to many souls. He 
 enjoyed the respect and confidence of the com- 
 munity, and left the people of his charge with deep 
 and mutual regrets at parting. He had attended, 
 in May, the session of the General Conference held 
 at Baltimore, as one of the delegates of the South 
 Carolina Conference. 
 
248 
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Stationed in Charleston — Editor of the Wesleyan Journal — Appointed 
 Presiding Elder— Defence of Bishop Soule's Sermon — Elected De- 
 legate to the British Conference. 
 
 From Milledgeville Mr. Capers was removed to 
 Charleston, South Carolina. In this station there 
 were three churches of respectable size, and a 
 small chapel in the suburbs — all united in one pas- 
 toral charge, which was placed in the hands of Mr. 
 Capers, The South Carolina Conference at that 
 time extended from the Cape Fear river to Ala- 
 bama. This large field was divided into eight 
 Presiding Elders' Districts, and embraced a mem- 
 bership, white and colored, of forty-two thousand. 
 In the city of Charleston, there were in the com- 
 munion of the Methodist Episcopal Church four 
 hundred and thirty-one whites, and two thousand 
 seven hundred and forty-seven colored. The col- 
 leagues of Mr. Capers were the Rev. Messrs. Manly, 
 Hoskins, and Olin. The health of Mr. Olin was 
 bad, and he was able to do no pastoral work ; in- 
 deed, it was only with the hope that he might have 
 sufficient strength to edit the Wesleyan Journal, 
 that he had been again stationed in Charleston 
 after the failure of his health during the year pre- 
 
THE WESLEYAN JOURNAL. 
 
 249 
 
 ceding. The labors of a preacher in charge in 
 Charleston prior to the separation of the charges, 
 were severe indeed. He was liable to be called 
 upon at every hour of the day ; every evening was 
 occupied with an official meeting or in public wor- 
 ship ; and besides three sermons on Sunday, he had 
 on his hands the administration of the affairs of a 
 society numbering upwards of three thousand 
 souls. All this was enough to tax to the utmost 
 the capabilities, mental and physical, of any man. 
 The parsonage-house was a small wooden building, 
 erected in the time of Bishop Asbury, terribly hot 
 in summer, and with few conveniences in its fix- 
 tures. Mr. Capers occupied this house two years, 
 preaching regularly three times on Sunday, and 
 discharging the other duties of his office. 
 
 On the 1st of October, 1825, the "Wesleyan Journal 
 made its debut. It was the second Methodist paper 
 published in the United States. It had been pro- 
 jected by Mr. Olin, and adopted by the Conference, 
 which made provisional arrangements for its pub- 
 lication under the editorial supervision of Mr. 
 Capers, in case Mr. Olin's health did not permit 
 him to undertake its management. As there was 
 no prospect that Mr. Olin's services could be put 
 in requisition, the Journal was brought out, at the 
 date aforementioned, by Mr. Capers. In making his 
 editorial salutations to the patrons of the esleyan 
 Journal, Mr. Capers said: "We feel the want of 
 Mr. Olin keenly, but we cannot shrink from the 
 performance of a duty which, without our choice, 
 11* 
 
250 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 is thus providentially cast upon us. "We use no 
 disguise. The Wesleyan Journal, in our hands, 
 cannot and will not pretend to learning. We con- 
 fess we know not how to gauge the ancients ; nor 
 can we fix the measure of the moderns. We pro- 
 fess, however, to have measured ourselves. We 
 have been schooled in common life, and claim the 
 advantage of common sense ; and without affecting 
 what transcends our stature, we will use our mid- 
 dling, common-sense ability, to as great advantage 
 as we can. We honor learning, and suppose we 
 can distinguish her fine gold from tinsel pedantry. 
 We admire wit and genius; but there is a little 
 limping, waggish fellow, whom we will not know. 
 We labor to promote the interests of religion, and 
 we wish to do it as religious men. We will 'fol- 
 low after things which make for peace, and things 
 wherewith one may edify another.' " 
 
 It is matter of surprise that Mr. Capers should 
 have consented to assume, in addition to pastoral and 
 pulpit labors already taxing his full strength, the 
 responsibilities and cares peculiar to the editor's 
 chair. Especially, with a quick sensibility, a ner- 
 vous temperament, keen to feel the sting of a 
 thousand petty annoyances which bristle around 
 the tripod ; with a training that went altogether in 
 the direction of extemporaneous address, and not 
 exercised in Written composition ; with meagre re- 
 sources in the way of exchanges ; with no corps of 
 pledged or paid correspondents; — that, in spite of 
 all these embarrassments, he should have cheer- 
 
CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE AND JOURNAL. 251 
 
 fully accepted the task put upon him by his breth- 
 ren, is a high proof of unselfish devotion to the 
 interests of the Church. The Journal, in his hands, 
 exhibited a steady loyalty to the central truths of 
 Christianity ; his selections were mainly from the 
 writings of Wesley and Fletcher, lacking variety 
 perhaps, and of a cast somewhat too didactic, but 
 meant chiefly for religious edification ; and his edi- 
 torials were brief, but bold to censure what he 
 deemed worthy of rebuke. 
 
 In September of the following year, the Chris- 
 tian Advocate was issued from the Book Room, 
 at New York, under the editorship of Mr. Badger, 
 who had relinquished the editorial management of 
 Zion's Herald in Boston, the first Methodist paper 
 published in this country. At the session of the 
 South Carolina Conference, at the close of 1826, 
 resolutions were adopted, instructing the Publish- 
 ing Committee of the Wesleyan Journal to nego- 
 tiate with the Book Agents at New York for a union 
 of the two papers. The reasons alleged for this 
 course, were, 1st. The desirableness of patronizing 
 a paper the profits of which were distributed 
 equally among all the Annual Conferences of the 
 Connection ; 2d. The general desire for a Connec- 
 tional paper ; and 3d. Ah apprehension of damage 
 from the multiplication of local presses. ^^Accord- 
 ingly, arrangements were made by which the 
 "Wesleyan Journal was merged in the Christian 
 Advocate, which thence bore the title, " Christian 
 Advocate and Journal." 
 
252 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Mr. Capers maintained throughout the two years 
 his position as an able, eloquent, and popular 
 preacher; though he was able to visit his flock but 
 little. The four years succeeding were spent on 
 the Charleston District, in the office of Presiding 
 Elder. Removing his family to a residence in 
 Coming street, he entered with fine spirits upon 
 the duties of his new office. The district over 
 which he presided embraced the scope of country 
 lying between Santee and Savannah rivers, and ex- 
 tending from Charleston to the neighborhood of 
 Columbia. He had been relieved from the confine- 
 ment and worry of editing the Journal, and w r as 
 allowed to breathe free amidst the solitudes of the 
 grand old woods. The affairs of the district were 
 administered with the punctuality and ability which 
 belonged to his character; and his preaching at- 
 tracted large crowds at his Quarterly Meetings. 
 In the spring of 1827, at a camp-meeting held some 
 twelve or fourteen miles above Charleston, he 
 preached a most masterly and impressive sermon, 
 on the text, " Go and show John again those things 
 which ye do hear and see," etc. His main posi- 
 tions were, that Christianity furnishes in its gra- 
 cious provisions a divine power to meet the moral 
 necessities of human nature ; and that in the appli- 
 cation and realization of this power, stands an irre- 
 fragable evidence, to the renewed soul, of the 
 divinity and truth of the gospel. He went into no 
 deep and curious speculation in regard to the modus 
 of that spiritual influence of which he was discours- 
 
A GREAT SERMON. 
 
 253 
 
 ing; nor did he seek to settle with metaphysical 
 acuteness the precise border lines between this 
 mighty and mysterious power, and the moral 
 agency over which it is never wont to break with 
 irresistible flow of energy. But grouping together 
 the undeniable facts of human nature in its rela- 
 tions to God, moral government, and the eternal 
 state — its blindness, callousness, alienation ; its 
 profound torpor, on its religious side, contrasted 
 with its vigor, vivacity, and depth of susceptibility' 
 on its earthly side — he made out the case of man's 
 spiritual necessities and moral predicament, with a 
 compactness of thought and a fervor of soul which 
 poured itself forth in the most graphic, fresh, and 
 telling illustrations. Having clearly delineated the 
 necessities which occasioned the Divine mercy in 
 redemption by Jesus Christ, he went on to show 
 how precisely the elements entering into the scheme 
 of recovery met the wants of man. As he set 
 forth the " Spirit of life in Christ Jesus," as the 
 great healing, saving power, he rose into a strain of 
 eloquent speech, which stirred the blood as with a 
 clarion's notes. At his master-touch, the shams of 
 mere ritualism, the plausibilities of a so-called 
 liberal Christianity, the religionism of the pic- 
 turesque and the sentimental, fa<*ed into thin air. 
 He showed how utterly insufficient was th# whole 
 troop of them to meet the solemn exigences of the 
 case; and how above them all towered in majestic 
 grandeur the saving power of the gospel. " Power, 
 power!" he exclaimed, in a voice, at its full thun- 
 
254 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 der, rolling flame-girt words over the assembled 
 thousands around him: "you offer me a religion; 
 I demand, can it open the blind eyes of my soul to 
 the interests of my eternity ? Can it invest with 
 reality to my convictions the things of faith ? Can 
 it unstop my deaf ears to the voice of God and 
 duty? Can it waft the spirit of health, and life, 
 and love, to ifly disordered, leprous soul ? Can it 
 raise me from the death of sin to the life of righte- 
 ousness?" He held that no power of man, or of 
 education, of outward circumstances, or of inward 
 resolution, could avail. What the soul wanted and 
 must have, was just what Christ and the gospel 
 offered — Divine power. And now, as nothing but a 
 true religion could bestow such an investiture of 
 the spirit, so the realization of its mighty and 
 saving results in the spiritual nature was, in turn, 
 the most valid and effective of proofs that Christ is 
 the Son of God, and his gospel the word of truth 
 as well as of salvation. This position was main- 
 tained with a force and clearness in keeping with 
 the former part of the sermon. The usual fluency, 
 elegance, and facility of the preacher, were on this 
 occasion merged in an extraordinary strength — 
 even vehemence, which ranked the sermon among 
 the noblest specMiens of pulpit oratory. 
 
 At the session of the South Carolina Conference 
 held in Augusta, January, 1827, Bishop Soule 
 preached a masterly sermon on the "Perfect Law 
 of Liberty." By a resolution moved by Mr. Capers, 
 and seconded by Mr., now Bishop, Andrew, the 
 
DEFENDS BISHOP SOULE. 
 
 255 
 
 Conference unanimously and earnestly requested 
 its publication. When it appeared in print, it was 
 reviewed in a series of articles written by a Presby- 
 terian minister of some pretensions, and published 
 in the Charleston Observer. More ado was made 
 concerning this review than its actual merits war- 
 ranted. It was a palpably unfair attempt to convict 
 the Bishop of heresy — of holding a system of doc- 
 trine "dangerously and ruinously false!" The 
 gist of this false teaching was the proposition main- 
 tained by Bishop Soule, that man, being redeemed 
 by the death of Christ, is not held obliged to the 
 performance of the Adamic law, as a condition of 
 life; but that his relations to God are so far affected 
 by the covenant of grace as that, instead of being 
 under the original law, "Do this and live," the con- 
 ditions are now, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and thou shalt be saved." This sound and clearly 
 defined principle, underlying the whole scheme of 
 redemption by the sacrifice of Christ, was thought 
 by the writer in the Observer to be equivalent to 
 the proposition that "the gospel has released man 
 from all obligation to speak right, to think right, 
 or to feel right." And this was charged on the 
 venerable Bishop. 
 
 Mr. Capers and Mi\ Andrew, under their proper 
 names, solicited, as an act of justice, the privilege 
 of being heard in vindication of the Bishop's ser- 
 mon, in the paper which had assailed it ; but being 
 refused, they published a pamphlet containing six 
 letters to the editor of the Observer. These were 
 
256 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 written by Mr. Capers. They were sufficiently 
 caustic. He was not given to dandling on the 
 knees of loving professions, opponents whom the 
 defence of his own Church called him to withstand, 
 point to point, and opinion against opinion. In 
 this case, the absurdities of the reviewer might 
 safely have been left to find their way into a speedy 
 oblivion. It may be remarked, however, that Mr. 
 Capers, though quick to resent what he conceived 
 to be an unjustifiable attack on the principles of 
 revealed truth, was yet far removed from the posi- 
 tion of a controversialist preacher. He agreed 
 with his friend* Dr. Olin, in the conviction that 
 controversies about the opinions which divide the 
 Christian sects that preach and experience salva- 
 tion by the blood of the Lamb and through the 
 sanctification of the Spirit, are apt to be productive 
 of evil rather than good; that more is lost to kind 
 and Christian feeling than is gained to orthodoxy; 
 and that when differences of opinion cannot be 
 settled to the satisfaction of the litigant parties by 
 the Bible itself, the last appeal, it is not wise to 
 excite and perpetuate passions which are fatal to 
 Christian character, with the uncertain hope of 
 extirpating errors which the narrowest charity does 
 not regard as barriers to salvation. And there 
 have been few preachers of eminence whose min- 
 istry was more catholic in its tone than that of Dr. 
 Capers, or embraced a larger circle of admirers 
 beyond the pale of their own denominations. 
 
 In the autumn of 1827, the family of Mr. Capers 
 
GENERAL CONFERENCE. 
 
 257 
 
 were visited by yellow fever. He was very ill for 
 several weeks ; his brother LeGrand, and his 
 daughters Anna and Susan, being attacked at the 
 same time. Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Capers was 
 taken down. The kindest attentions possible were 
 shown the afflicted family. Mrs. J. 0. Andrew 
 took the youngest child; Dr. Dickson, the family 
 physician, took the eldest son, Francis ; both of 
 whom, by this kind intervention of attached friends, 
 escaped. By the blessing of God, all who had 
 been sick recovered. Mr. Capers, as soon as his 
 strength allowed, resumed his labors on the dis- 
 trict. 
 
 In May, 1828, he attended the session of the 
 General Conference, held at Pittsburg. On the 
 14th of May he wrote to Mrs. Capers as follows :— 
 "I have been greatly pressed with a solicitation 
 from many brethren to suffer myself to be con- 
 sidered a candidate for the place of Agent of the 
 Book Concern, insomuch that at one time I was even 
 induced to yield a reluctant consent; but to-day 
 I have strongly declined it, and think that I shall 
 be able with a good conscience to avoid the nomi- 
 nation, which had been -pretty far concluded. The 
 prospect, however, is considerably on the other 
 side, of my being sent as the Representative of the 
 Church in America to that in Great Britaio^ No- 
 thing conclusive has transpired on this subject, but 
 you know the grounds on which I should not be 
 free to excuse myself, if the General Conference 
 elect me. Bishop Hedding, this day, took an 
 
258 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 opportunity privately to explain why he had pre- 
 ferred another ; and was pleased to say that it was 
 not in the least owing to any want of respect for me, 
 but only because he thought my circumstances, as 
 the owner of slaves, would render my appointment 
 unpleasant in some sections where there exist 
 strong prejudices on the subject of such circum- 
 stances. Even if the General Conference should 
 put this duty upon me, I suppose I may be able to 
 see you before I go to fulfil it. There will be no 
 new Bishops made at this Conference. We move 
 very slowly in our business, owing to the great 
 number of members, say, one hundred and seventy- 
 seven, all of them speakers by profession, and 
 many very fond of talking." 
 
 It is proper to state that the General Conference 
 of 1824 had instructed the Bishops to choose and 
 appoint a Representative, and send him to the 
 British Conference in 1826. A meeting of the 
 Bishops had been held at Baltimore, in April, 1826, 
 and Bishops McKendree and Soule had supported 
 the appointment of Mr. Capers ; Bishops George 
 and Hedding wished Dr. Fisk appointed. This 
 difference of opinion had led to the postponement 
 of the election until the meeting of the General 
 Conference, when the subject was formally brought 
 up in the address of the Bishops. 
 
 The biographer of Bishop Hedding states, that 
 the ground of his objection was that Mr. Capers 
 was a slaveholder. He adds that the intelligent 
 reader will infer that "the aggressive movements 
 
ELECTED REPRESENTATIVE. 259 
 
 of slavery, which finally led to the disruption of the 
 Church, were not wholly without Episcopal sanc- 
 tion at a very early date." While it may require 
 some extraordinary intelligence to perceive how 
 slavery was making any movement at all, we are 
 willing to accept the fact that the senior Bishop of 
 the Methodist Episcopal Church, the venerable 
 McKendree, with his able and far-sighted colleague 
 Bishop Soule, did maintain as far back as 1826, 
 the equality of the Southern ministry in the Con- 
 nectional union. If this was a pro-slavery move- 
 ment, then let it be observed that the General 
 Conference of 1828 endorsed the action and reasons 
 of the two Bishops by electing a slaveholder as their 
 Representative. The ingenuity of Quarterly Re- 
 viewers can readily distort this fact into another 
 proof that the Methodist Episcopal Church has 
 always been abolitionist. 
 
 On May 17th, Mr. Capers wrote the following 
 brief letter to his wife : 
 
 "I have been this day elected to the undesirable 
 distinction of being the Representative of the 
 American Methodist Church to that of Great 
 Britain. I could not decline being a candidate, 
 for reasons which you know ; and besides the im- 
 portant principle, involving the interests generally 
 of all the Southern preachers, I could not decline 
 because of the unpleasant dilemma in which it 
 would have placed those of the Bishops who had 
 so perseveringly maintained my nomination. I 
 still hope, but cannot even now be certain, that I 
 
260 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 may see you before I go to England. If prac- 
 ticable, you may be sure I will go to Charleston 
 before I set out for Liverpool ; and if so, I shall be 
 in haste, and will probably be with you by the last 
 of the first week in June/' 
 
 On the 19th May, he says: "I this morning 
 obtained the consent of the General Conference to 
 my absence during the remainder of its session, 
 with a view to my being enabled to go to Charles- 
 ton. I expect to take the stage for Baltimore to- 
 morrow night — no stage going earlier; will pro- 
 bably reach there on the night of the 23d inst. ; 
 and will then be governed by circumstances whether 
 I go by sea or land to Charleston. Our Conference 
 has been more harmonious than had been expected. 
 "We have done little that affects the rules of Dis- 
 cipline; but I think the session now present has 
 done much of great importance to the Church in 
 her present circumstances." 
 
 After spending a week or two with his family, he 
 sailed for New York, where he arrived on the 18th 
 June. Here he met Bishop George, obtained his 
 instructions, and engaged a passage to Liverpool 
 in the packet-ship " John Jay." In a letter to Mrs. 
 Capers, he says: "I have received the kindest at- 
 tentions from all who have come in my way. Be 
 not jealous of me for saying this. My home is 
 in Charleston still. My children are there; and 
 above every thing and everybody else, my wife is 
 there. I wish I could give you but one more kiss 
 before I leave my country for a foreign land. I 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 261 
 
 now can only tell you so ; and to-morrow I shall 
 not have the liberty of even so much as this. But 
 don't mind it. Remember your confidence in 
 prayer, and know that even here, where I am a 
 stranger, there are many and mighty prayers put 
 up for me. I wish you could have heard, last night, 
 how brother Waugh, concluding the service after I 
 had preached, prayed for me, and for you, and our 
 dear children also ; and how many loud aniens rung 
 through the church. I had a blessed day yester- 
 day — Sunday the 22d. My mouth was opened, 
 and my heart enlarged, and the large congregations 
 seemed to feel pretty generally a correspondent in- 
 terest in the services. As I said before, so let me 
 repeat : we know not what the Divine will may be ; 
 but let us lose ourselves in God, and we shall in- 
 fallibly come out on the right and best side. If 
 we fully purpose in our hearts that 6 whether we 
 live, we live unto the Lord, or whether we die, we 
 die unto the Lord,', he will take care, our conduct 
 being consistent, that 4 we live and die the Lord's.' 
 No accident, no danger, no enemies, can have 
 power over us ; but in all places and at all times, 
 we shall be safe with Him. 
 
 1 Jesus protects: my fears, begone ! 
 What can the Rock of Ages move ? 
 Safe in thy arms I lay me down, 
 Thy everlasting arms of love.' 
 
 Only think, my dear, that the Lord of heaven and 
 earth should have come down to us in the form of 
 our species, and walked upon the water, to teach 
 
 / 
 
262 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 us not to fear ! He who made tlie winds and seas, 
 will in answer to the prayers of his people, and for 
 his mercy's sake, be everywhere present along the 
 whole course of our ship over the ocean, from New 
 York to Liverpool, and back again to Charleston. 
 He made the elements, and he controls them. 
 And even if it should seem good to him to stop our 
 progress, and bring us back no more, still you may 
 not say we were lost at sea — none can be lost in 
 God's hands. We are all mortal, and we all must 
 die. But with respect to myself, surely the ap- 
 parent danger of death is much greater in the 
 usual course of duty on the Charleston District, 
 than on the ocean. I feel a great desire, an earnest 
 longing, to be more fully given up to God, and to 
 be filled with the Spirit. Pray that I may be 
 brought into a state of deep and uninterrupted 
 communion with him. It is no easy matter for one 
 in so elevated and responsible a station as I am 
 now to sustain for a little while, and in such cir- 
 cumstances as I shall be put into on board ship 
 and in England, to acquit himself acceptably and to 
 the profit of the Church. Most truly I feel that I 
 am not sufficient for these things ; but blessed be 
 God, there is ample sufficiency even for me, in 
 Christ Jesus my Lord. To him, and him alone, I 
 would look for aid, and depend on him with con- 
 fidence for support. Bishop Hedding has just 
 come in to take tea with me. The Bishop has put 
 up another heavenly prayer for us by name. What 
 a privilege this is ! — that even we are borne on the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 263 
 
 hearts of so many before God, is surely cause for 
 thanksgiving. Perhaps a thousand faithful prayers, 
 or thousands of them, have been offered up, and 
 will be offered up, for us and our children, which 
 we never should have had but for the cross which 
 is now laid upon us. May God hear and answer 
 them for his name's sake." 
 
 / 
 
264 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Embarks in the "John Jay" — Voyage — Reception in England — 
 Estimate of the leading Wesleyan preachers — Resolutions of the 
 British Conference in acknowledgment of the visit of the Ameri- 
 can Representative — Visits Dr. A. Clarke at Haydon Hall — Re- 
 turn voyage. 
 
 Mr. Capers embarked, June 24th, on the John 
 Jay, one of the Liverpool "liners." In the har- 
 bor oft' the lighthouse, he wrote to his wife the 
 following letter : 
 
 " I came down to the Battery this morning, at a 
 quarter before ten o'clock, and found Bishops 
 George and Hedding there, with a nnmber of the 
 brethren ; among whom were Dr. Emory, brother 
 % Matthias, Captain "Wood, brother Dando, etc., all 
 waiting to take leave of me, and look after me, as 
 I should depart for the ship. I ought to have par- 
 ticularly mentioned brother Francis Hall, a distin- 
 guished member of the Church in New York, his 
 wife, and his son and wife, among the number of 
 those who put themselves to the trouble of a long 
 walk to show this delicate mark of respect and love 
 to the Representative of their Church — poor un- 
 worthy me ! Brother Hall has even come on board 
 the ship, and is going out to sea, to return with the 
 
FAREWELL LETTER. 
 
 265 
 
 pilot, to have, lie says, the last of my presence in 
 the port. By him I have an opportunity of send- 
 ing this to you. Several of the preachers came 
 down to the ship with me, in the steamboat from 
 the city to the quarantine ground, and returned by 
 the same conveyance. Well, I am now actually off 
 for Liverpool. Wife and children, friends and coun- 
 try are behind me. God is with me ; and with him 
 I must do well. The number of passengers is but 
 twelve, and there are but two ladies. The captain 
 has given me a proof of his kind regards, exchang- 
 ing my state-room for one in the ladies' cabin. 
 Here, in the best part of the ship, I have a splendid 
 little room to myself, large enough for my baggage, 
 a table, and a chair, where I may be as private as 
 I please. This letter is written in it, and the 
 writing of it is my first employment on board ship. 
 Farewell, my dear, dear wife ; keep your heart from 
 fear and trouble. Expect me at home again, safe 
 and happy." 
 
 This farewell letter was forwarded by Mr. 
 Hall. 
 
 His next letter to Mrs. Capers was dated off 
 Dungaroon, on the coast of Ireland, July 15 : 
 
 "A voyage across the Atlantic ocean could scarce- 
 ly be made with more comfort and satisfaction 
 than I have experienced on the present one. We 
 have not had an hour's head-wind since we set sail 
 at New York ; and for a fortnight the weather was 
 so smooth that a common six-oared boat might have 
 been perfectly safe on the roughest water we expe- 
 12 
 
266 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 riencecl. The last six clays have given us a rapid 
 run, averaging nearly or quite two hundred miles a 
 day; and this morning, at about 5 o'clock, we came 
 up to the coast of Ireland. We have been all day 
 gliding smoothly, with light winds, along her beau- 
 tiful shores, within full sight of lighthouses, forts, 
 towers, towns, villages, mansions, and fields of 
 lovely green, bordered out with their fences of 
 hawthorn, like a vast garden covering all the 
 country. To-morrow will make three weeks since 
 I left New York, and behold I am actually here 
 already! I know that it is Ireland that I am be- 
 holding, and still I cannot realize that I am three 
 thousand miles from home. My voyage seems a 
 dream. 
 
 " Wednesday night, July 16. — We are now 
 going over on the English side of the St. George's 
 or Irish channel, and expect to see the coast of 
 England as early as it is light in the morning. The 
 coast of Ireland, along which we were sailing yes- 
 terday, and until 3 o'clock to-day, is beautiful be- 
 yond any thing you ever saw. Believe me, I Jfelt 
 every hour a tender sense of interest in it that I 
 never knew before, because of its being the land 
 of your forefathers. 
 
 " Liverpool, July 17. — -During the night we 
 crossed the channel, and this morning at 5 o'clock 
 were in view of the isle of Anglesea. I was for- 
 tunate in having a fair, fine day to come into Liver- 
 pool, and I improved it as well as I could to view 
 the coast from the north-western extremity of 
 
ARRIVAL AT LIVERPOOL. 
 
 267 
 
 Wales to this far-famed commercial emporium. 
 "Wales is nothing to compare to Ireland for beauty 
 along this shore. It generally presents rugged and 
 bare old fields covered over with rocks ; and it is only 
 in detached places that a few beautiful farms, clus- 
 tered on a better soil, show a highly cultivated as 
 well as a very old country. You never see wood- 
 land, either here or on the coast of Ireland, except 
 it be attached to some lordly estate as a pleasure- 
 ground or park. I really thought, when I looked 
 with enthusiasm upon the beautiful shores of 
 Ireland, that I could scarcely find it equalled in 
 England ; but the scenery along the shore of the 
 country from the river Dee to this place, and par- 
 ticularly that which lies on the Liverpool side of 
 the river Mersey, is beautiful beyond Ireland, and 
 beyond any idea that I could give you of it. We 
 arrived at the dock in Liverpool at half-past one 
 o'clock to-day, having made our passage in twenty- 
 two and a half days from New York. We found 
 that the ship Helen Mar, the Majestic, the Olive 
 and Eliza, and the General Brown, from Charles- 
 ton, had arrived here before us ; and this deter- 
 mines me to return direct to Charleston, if I can 
 find a good ship, on my way home. I must here, 
 in gratitude and duty, set down the kind, friendly, 
 and obliging attentions which I have received from 
 Captain Holdrege. On all the voyage he was every 
 way a friend ; and his attentions since we came 
 into port have been even more obliging, if possible, 
 than on board his ship. I think I said something 
 
-u8 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 about the ship before I left New York. I need add 
 no more than just this : that a better vessel, or a 
 finer one, I never expect to sail in. Our fare on 
 the passage was equal to the elegant and splendid 
 style of the ship. We had bread baked on board 
 every day, and that which was excellent; our din- 
 ner always consisted of several courses of meats, 
 served in the handsomest manner, desserts of vari- 
 ous kinds, and even fruits and nuts. Cider (just 
 such as I was dreaming of in the yellow fever) that 
 sparkled like champagne, various French and 
 other wines, porter, etc., were at all hours as readi- 
 ly at command as water. Indeed, there was every 
 thing that I could wish, and very much more. • I 
 have not yet delivered my letters of introduction, 
 having put up for a time under the wing of Captain 
 Holdrege, and in company with several of my fel- 
 low-passengers, whose society has been one of the 
 pleasantest accompaniments of one of the pleas- 
 antest voyages that could have been made by me 
 going so far from home. 
 
 "Liverpool, July 19. — Mr. Newton was most of 
 the day yesterday walking with me. I had stopped 
 at the Star and Garter Hotel until I should get 
 clear of the custom-house, before introducing my- 
 self to any one here. He was the first of our 
 brethren whom I saw, and immediately joined him- 
 self with me for the day, taking a great deal of 
 fatigue, with the kindest possible dispositions to 
 show me honor and to serve me. He would be 
 with me at the dock, at the custom-house ; secured 
 
ATTENTIONS IN LIVERPOOL. 
 
 269 
 
 me splendid accommodations, and dined with me, 
 at the dwelling of Mr. Sands, (a wealthy and very 
 respectable merchant;) procured such pecuniary 
 accommodations as I wanted, and, indeed, put him- 
 self, and would put himself, to a deal of trouble for 
 me. During the day and evening I have had the 
 pleasure of the company of several of the preachers. 
 This morning I would attend the preachers' weekly 
 meeting, but business and company yesterday and 
 last night hindered me from writing, and I must 
 be in time with this for the earliest ship, so I give 
 myself to my dear, dear wife. I could tell you 
 a thousand things, and will when I get home 
 again. I am as happy as the richest and kindest 
 accommodations, and the most tender, respectful 
 attentions can make me, so far from home. But 
 what would I give just that you might know that 
 I am here in safety ! What would I give to be 
 again at my own plain home, with my business 
 here accomplished! I must not, indulge in this. 
 I know that you are anxious, and, perhaps, even 
 fearful. Let us trust in God, and we shall yet 
 praise him again. 
 
 " You see I have been writing to you ever since the 
 15th. I hoped then I might find an earlier oppor- 
 tunity. This is Saturday the 19th. On Monday I 
 will set out with Mr. Newton and Mr. Tobias for 
 London." 
 
 On Sunday he preached for the Rev. Robert 
 Newton in the morning, and in the afternoon for 
 the Rev. Mr. Scott. In regard to his sermons he 
 
270 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 says : "I was much confused in the morning, but 
 less so in the afternoon. On the whole, I feel rather 
 more courage and composure than I expected I 
 should, and encourage myself to believe that I 
 shall do better as I get more used to rny new cir- 
 cumstances. In private and social intercourse I 
 was never in my life more free, easy, and ready." 
 His next letter is dated London, July 24th : 
 "I left Liverpool in company with Messrs. New- 
 ton, and Tobias on Monday last, the 21st, and 
 reached London on Tuesday evening. Our road 
 lay over the most beautiful country, perhaps, in the 
 world, for most of the way; and, excepting ten or 
 twelve miles, we travelled over all of it in the day- 
 time. The part which we passed over in the night 
 lies between Wolverhampton and Birmingham, a 
 manufacturing district, where the whole country 
 smokes and blazes with innumerable furnaces. It 
 is remarkable that I should have had the night for 
 this part of the road, where there is little of the 
 elegance and beauty of the farming and grazing 
 districts which compose all the rest of the distance. 
 One thing only I regretted in it, (for under no cir- 
 cumstances could I have stopped to examine any 
 thing,) and that was, that Wednesbury, so famous 
 for its violence towards the first Methodist preach- 
 ers, lay just at this part of our road ; and, although 
 I passed directly through it, I could see but very 
 little of it. The blazing furnaces of this district 
 have a strong effect at night. The manufactures 
 are chiefly, if not entirely, of iron and steel. We 
 
REACHES LONDON. 
 
 271 
 
 reached Birmingham after 10 o'clock P. M., and 
 passed the night there. In the morning at 7 
 o'clock we set out for London, and reached here at 
 7 o'clock in the evening. I was received with 
 great kindness by Mr. Stephens, the President of 
 the Conference ; and having ascertained that Mr. 
 Newton and myself were to stay with Lancelot 
 Haslope, Esq., of Highbury Lodge, (the same who 
 now stands in the stead of the late lamented Mr. 
 Butterworth, as general Treasurer of the Mission- 
 ary Society,) we came to our temporary home in 
 the great metropolis without much delay. 
 
 " Yesterday I passed several hours with the sta- 
 tioning committee, who, it seems, do their work 
 before the Conference begins. Mr. Eeece and Mr. 
 Hannah met me at the President's house with great 
 affection, Mr. Eeece saying in his peculiar way, as 
 he pressed my hand long and tenderly, 6 You know 
 I always wanted you to come.' I was introduced 
 by him, and shook hands with Mr. Bunting, Mr. 
 Gaulter, Mr. Edmonston, Mr. Entwistle, Mr. Wat- 
 son, Mr. Sutcliffe, and others. Mr. Moore, Dr. 
 Clarke, and others whom I expect soon to see, were 
 not present. Mr. Newton is the Apollos of the 
 Wesley an Methodists as a public speaker, and par- 
 ticularly so on the platform. His manners are 
 very dignified, and yet exceedingly pleasant — con- 
 verses freely, is very witty and full of anecdote, 
 and is a finished gentleman as well as a very able 
 man. Such a forehead as Mr. Watson's, I never 
 looked at in my life. He is very thin and pale, with 
 
272 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 a wan face, which looks even narrower than it 
 might, on account of the unusual size of his fore- 
 head. Mr. Watson is rather above six feet high, 
 but I suppose he would not weigh much, if any 
 thing, more than I do. He is acknowledged on all 
 hands to be the ablest man in the Connection. I 
 would not have recognized Mr. Bunting from any 
 likeness I have seen of him ; indeed, he has too fine 
 an eye to paint. His eye and Mr. "Watson's fore- 
 head surpass every thing. Mr. Bunting is a great 
 business man, and possesses an acuteness and quick- 
 ness which such an eye as his must indicate. He 
 is also very remarkable for his great superiority in 
 extemporaneous speaking — his words and sentences 
 always flowing as freely and gracefully off at hand, 
 as if they had been chosen and arranged with the 
 greatest care. He is all activity and energy in the 
 great cause of Methodism, and is certainly one of 
 the first of her sons. He is rather under height — 
 perhaps not more than five feet eight inches — and 
 is inclined to be fat. The likenesses of him hitherto 
 taken will, I hope, soon give way to a better one; 
 as he is expected to succeed the present President 
 at the Conference about to be held, and it is a 
 custom to have the likeness of every President 
 taken. Mr. Edmonston, Mr. Entwistle, and Mr. 
 Sutcliffe, particularly the two former, are also 
 among the leading men. They all three are aged 
 and venerable, with countenances of the utmost 
 benignity. 
 
 " Friday, 25th. — It is really humbling to me to 
 
CORDIAL RECEPTION. 
 
 273 
 
 receive the free and full and affectionate attentions 
 which my present situation brings me, from men 
 so long and so greatly venerated. I had not anti- 
 cipated it. I never can feel that I am an equal in 
 their presence, and yet I am beginning already to 
 feel more at ease, as I am more in their society. 
 This morning Mr. Reece introduced me to Mr. 
 George Marsden, one of the oldest, best, and most 
 respectable of this venerable body of men. As he 
 took me by the hand, his eyes melted upon the 
 words, ' How happy I am to see a representative of 
 the Church in America !' I have not yet had an 
 opportunity to see much of London, owing to the 
 wetness of the weather, in part, but more to my 
 being occupied with the committees, and not being 
 able to go much abroad through this wilderness 
 world of a city, for fear of losing myself. It re- 
 quires great effort to keep my spirits up, my dear 
 wife — I cannot feel at home. I really feel to sigh, 
 in spite of myself, for the humbler scenes of South 
 Carolina. Still, I hope that I am enabled by God's 
 grace to sustain the character, responsible as it is, 
 in which I have been sent by the American Church, 
 so as not to lower the home and the Church I love 
 so well, in the eyes of any. I am exceedingly 
 anxious — too much so — and cannot be otherwise. 
 May God be with me. Truly, if I know my heart, 
 my eye is single, and always has been so. 
 
 " July 28. — To-day is Monday ; and on yesterday 
 I preached for the first time in this world of a 
 town. The appointment was made for me in the 
 12* 
 
274 
 
 LI EE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Great Queen Street Chapel, the largest and most 
 splendid building that I ever saw as a Methodist 
 church. No church of any order in Charleston 
 can compare to it. Mr. Newton read prayers, 
 which he does to perfection ; and I preached, as 
 well as I could, on Rom. x. 15. My heart was 
 enlarged, and I had utterance for my feelings, if I 
 had not much mind. Mr. Reece, Mr. Newton, and 
 many other preachers were there ; and I am thank- 
 ful to know that they were satisfied with it. It 
 was cheering to see tears in the eyes of such a man 
 as Mr. Newton. 4 1 felt,' said he to me afterwards, 
 < that your Master was with you.' Yes, truly, God 
 was with me ; and I trust he will be with me to 
 the end. 0, how earnestly do I throw myself upon 
 his gracious assistance ! On Saturday I thought it 
 advisable to make a sort of speech before the Book 
 Committee, on the subject of a complete edition of 
 Wesley's works; and there also before the Presi- 
 dent, Messrs. Bunting, "Watson, Newton, Reece, 
 and many more whom I honor too much to speak 
 before without help, I spoke freely, and was heard 
 with much apparent interest, (cries of hear! hear! 
 being frequently uttered,) and, I have reason to 
 believe, to the satisfaction of the meeting. I owe 
 very much to the goodness of these excellent men. 
 Surely, if I ever felt the least measure of Christian 
 humility, I feel it now." 
 
 The British Conference was opened on the 30th 
 July, in the City Road Chapek Mr. Bunting was 
 elected President, and Mr. Newton Secretary. 
 
INTRODUCED TO THE CONFERENCE. 275 
 
 After the usual formalities, the Irish Representa- 
 tives were announced and their address read. The 
 President then expressed in handsome terms the 
 great pleasure he felt in having it in his power to 
 introduce a Representative from the United States; 
 and spoke in terms of high gratification of what he 
 had seen of Mr. Capers while present at their com- 
 mittees. Mr. Reece rose and said he had known 
 Mr. Capers in America, and loved him then, and had 
 loved him ever since : no one could do otherwise ; 
 and he knew they would find it so. The President 
 then, turning to Mr. Capers and calling him by 
 name, took him by the hand, and said, "Most 
 cordially, sir, do I, on behalf of the Conference, 
 extend to you, as the Representative of the Method- 
 ist Episcopal Church in America, the right hand 
 of fellowship." Mr. Capers, with a faltering voice, 
 made suitable acknowledgments. The scene was 
 one of interest, and produced a strong sensation in 
 the Conference. 
 
 The impression made upon Mr. Capers by the 
 prominent men of the Wesleyan Connection, will 
 be best gathered from his own words : 
 
 " On Sabbath morning I heard a wise and 
 good sermon, at City Road Chapel, from the ex- 
 President; in the afternoon one from Mr. W. M. 
 Bunting, at Great Queen Street Chapel ; and in 
 the evening one from President Bunting himself. 
 The President is the finest preacher I ever heard. 
 I was sitting on the platform just by Mr. Ga alter; 
 and as soon as the service was closed, Mr. Gaulter 
 
276 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 said to me, ' We have no man in the Connection like 
 Mr. Bunting ; he is far the best pattern for a young 
 man that we have. From first to last he aims 
 simply at winning souls ; and he does win them.' 
 This testimony, so honorable to Mr. Bunting, com- 
 ing as it does from one of the present fathers of the 
 Connection, is well deserved. He uses very little 
 gesture, and seldom employs metaphor; but with 
 a countenance expressive of great earnestness, and 
 fluency of speech beyond any one I ever heard, he 
 sweeps along with a full and overflowing tide of 
 solid argument, in neat and simple language. In 
 all his sermon (which was an hour and a half long) 
 I could not detect the slightest inaccuracy. The 
 difference between my friend Newton and Mr. 
 Bunting, is almost as great as that between a 
 popular orator and a first-rate preacher; and yet 
 Mr. Newton is not only an orator, but an able man, 
 and an excellent preacher also. 
 
 "To-day I am to dine with Dr. Clarke. The 
 Doctor is one of the coarsest-looking men I ever 
 saw, to be any thing like civilized or learned. He 
 is strong-built, and fleshy ; would probably weigh 
 not much less than two hundred pounds ; is about 
 five feet nine inches high. His hair is as white as 
 cotton, and he wears it turned back over his head. 
 It is very thin. He has full eyebrows, as white as 
 the hair of his head. His mouth is very broad ; 
 lips thick and prominent. Has the Irish pronunci- 
 ation as perfectly as if he was just from their potato 
 fields — such as sowl for soul, and sacreiary for secre- 
 
ORGANS. 
 
 277 
 
 tary. His utterance is rapid, and his language 
 always clear, strong, and simple. His face is very 
 red, as if the blood might gush out of it. It is 
 quite striking to an American how indifferent 
 people here seem to be to the correct pronunciation 
 of their language. Mr. Bunting excepted, I cannot 
 admire the pronunciation of any of the preachers I 
 have met with. And to hear such a man as Mr. 
 Watson say continually, noledge, acnoldge, for know- 
 ledge, etc., and stud, under stud, etc., for stood, 
 understood, and the like, is surprising indeed. 
 They seem, generally, to cleave to their country 
 provincialisms. Certainly they could avoid them 
 if they would try. 
 
 " Some of the larger chapels are finished very 
 magnificently in comparison with the best we have 
 in America ; and organs are frequently used in 
 them. Even the City Eoad Chapel looks not very 
 like what one might expect in a house built by 
 John Wesley. There is no organ, however, in this 
 chapel. It seems that Mr. Wesley had no objection 
 to organs ; and certainly most of the present 
 fathers, if they do not greatly admire the use of 
 them in public worship, have no objection to their 
 use, except on the score of expense. Hundreds of 
 pounds are annually raised for the purchase of organs. 
 Pity that these sums were not applied to another 
 use. Dr. Clarke is a great enemy to organs. I 
 happened to be sitting by him when a question 
 involving an organ was before the Conference. 
 'Have you organs among you in America?' said 
 
278 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 he to me, privately. 'No, sir,' I replied. c Then,' 
 he rejoined, 'keep the organs and the devil out.' 
 There had been a serious dispute in one of the 
 societies about an organ." 
 
 The Conference commenced on the 30th July, at 
 six o'clock A. M. About four hundred and fifty 
 preachers were present ; and the session lasted till 
 the 18th of August, when it was concluded, at nine 
 o'clock P. M., as it had been commenced, with 
 solemn, fervent prayer, by several of the older 
 preachers. The visit and addresses of Mr. Capers 
 were acknowledged in the following resolutions, 
 unanimously adopted : 
 
 "Resolved, 1. That it is with the most cordial satis- 
 faction, and with sincere gratitude to God, that this 
 Conference has heard the interesting communica- 
 tions now made by the Rev. William Capers, re- 
 specting the extraordinary work of God carried on 
 by the instrumentality of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church in the United States of America. 
 
 " 2. That the Conference receives with unfeigned 
 pleasure the assurances conveyed by Mr. Capers 
 of the decided and increasing attachment of the 
 ministers and members of the Church he represents, 
 to the doctrines and general discipline of Method- 
 ism, as preserved in the writings of our venerable 
 Founder; and of their unabated affection to the 
 preachers of the British Conference. And this 
 Conference does most cordially assure the Ameri- 
 can brethren, that the sentiments of Christian 
 love and esteem expressed. by them are perfectly 
 
VISIT TO HAYDON HALL. 
 
 279 
 
 reciprocal on the part of every member of this 
 body. 
 
 " 3. That the cordial thanks of this Conference 
 are due to the General Conference of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church in America, for the appointment 
 of their excellent Representative, Mr. Capers, whose 
 amiable manners, devout spirit, and acceptable 
 ministry, have greatly endeared him to the preach- 
 ers now assembled, and confirmed their feelings of 
 respect and attachment towards their American 
 brethren at large. 
 
 "4. That the warmest thanks of the Conference 
 are hereby presented to Mr. Capers, for the great 
 ability, Christian spirit, and brotherly kindness, 
 with which he has discharged the duties of his 
 honorable mission; and the Conference respectfully 
 assure him, that their most fervent prayers for his 
 welfare will attend him on his return to his native 
 country, and that he will long retain a high place 
 in their affectionate remembrance. " 
 
 On the 22d August, two days before Mr. Capers 
 took his final leave of London, he fulfilled an en- 
 gagement previously made with the venerable Dr. 
 Adam Clarke, to" spend a short time with him 
 at his seat, Haydon Hall, fifteen miles from the 
 metropolis. He gives the following interesting 
 account of this visit : 
 
 "My friend, the universally esteemed Joseph 
 Taylor, accompanied me, and we spent a most 
 pleasant afternoon and night under the roof of the 
 Doctor. No one can be more perfectty unbent than 
 
280 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Dr. Clarke in the company of his friends. Whether 
 in his library, with his ancient manuscripts, which 
 he employed several hours in showing us — Arabic, 
 Syriac, Saxon, etc., almost without number; or 
 with the many curiosities he has collected in his 
 museum ; or in his garden ; or the chapel which he 
 has fitted up out of his barn ; or showing us and 
 feeding his pony, or the dunghill cock and hen 
 which he brought with him on his return from a 
 recent visit to the Shetland Islands : his whole 
 manner is as easy, playful, and familiar as can be 
 conceived ; such as in turn would equally interest a 
 scholar or a child. While at table, the cocked-hat 
 he used to wear was mentioned. He said he used 
 to wear a slouched hat, but Mr. Wesley did not 
 like it : and after saying vaguely something on the 
 subject, he once said in Adam's presence, ' If a 
 Methodist preacher shall come into my 'company 
 with a slouched hat on, I will take it as an insult/ 
 ' This alarmed me,' said the Doctor, 6 so I straight- 
 way got me a cocked-hat/ Then leaving us 
 without saying why, he went for his hat, and pre- 
 sently coming in with it on his head, he saluted us 
 with great humor, bowing profoundly, as if not only 
 to show the hat, but also the younger manners of 
 the wearer of it. A similar piece of humor was 
 exhibited the next morning in his study. His be- 
 ing descended from an honorable Scotch family by 
 the maternal line, had been mentioned ; and while 
 I was amusing myself with a rare book, he stepped 
 out, and presently returned, wearing the bonnet of 
 
DR. ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 281 
 
 his house, (the house of McLean,) a blue woollen 
 cap, with ostrich feathers at the left side, fastened 
 with a small device of silver. After this he intro- 
 duced himself with 6 the bonnet of his clan;' a cap of 
 thick woollen, fitting close to the head, the lower 
 part plaided of red and white, the upper part blue, 
 with eagle feathers fastened with a device of silver, 
 different from the other. All this was done in per- 
 fect play. 
 
 " The Doctor's circumstances are very easy. The 
 country-seat where he lives is his own. The 
 house is of brick, rather ancient, but large and 
 commodious, well built and well furnished ; with 
 an extensive lawn in front and in the rear, with 
 elegant walks, gardens, shrubbery, etc., after the 
 English fashion. The room which you first enter 
 is curiously ornamented with numerous ancient 
 insignia, and various curiosities of Eastern and 
 African nations, etc., etc. There are two rooms 
 appropriated to his library and museum, besides 
 his study, which also is of considerable size, and 
 is lined with shelves closely filled with books and 
 manuscripts, from the top to the bottom. My 
 friend, Mr. Taylor, conjectured that his library and 
 museum together might probably be worth thirty 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 "His Royal Highness, the Duke of Sussex, is 
 particularly fond of Dr. Clarke, and passes one day 
 annually with him, at Haydon Hall. The Doctor 
 told me it was about the time for him to expect 
 this yearly honor, but that his visit to Shetland, 
 
282 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 and the business of tlie Conference, had prevented 
 his making his respects to the Duke, to know when 
 it might suit his convenience to bestow it. The 
 Doctor is often at the Duke's, who is fond of be- 
 ins: entertained with biblical criticism." 
 
 Four years after the visit just described, Dr. 
 Clarke died. 
 
 Mr. Capers visited, of course, the principal points 
 of interest in London — the Thames Tunnel, the 
 Royal Exchange, Blackfriars' Bridge, the palaces, 
 parks, and the like. Of St. Paul's he says: " No- 
 thing I had ever imagined could equal my amaze- 
 ment. The awful length and breadth and height ! 
 This cathedral beggars every thing I ever had be- 
 held. The echoes give a constant rumbling through 
 its lofty arches that alone might make one feel a 
 sense of dread. The monuments are noble and 
 imposing ; but there is not one to celebrate a vic- 
 tory, either by land or sea, over the arms of the 
 United States." 
 
 "From "Westminster Hall, we went to West- 
 minster Abbey ; and this, of all things and places 
 in England, is, I suppose, the best worth seeing. 
 The entrance is at the Poet's Corner. And thence 
 through numerous compartments filled with monu- 
 ments of statesmen, knights, nobles, warriors, and 
 kiugs, you are conducted by one who has an in- 
 terest in it, and who explains every remarkable 
 monument throughout the whole labyrinthine pile. 
 It is solemn even to awfulness to go through this 
 place. The majesty of the building is surpassed 
 
LEAVE-TAKING. 
 
 283 
 
 only by St. Paul's. We could not get through be- 
 fore the afternoon service was commenced. The 
 place of worship, however, being distinct from the 
 rest of the Abbey, we were not interrupted; and 
 after we had gone mostly through the Abbey, we 
 entered the chapel and took some part, if indeed it 
 can be called part, in the service. There were but 
 few persons present; and I could not but think 
 that in that awful place there appeared less of de- 
 votion than I ever saw in a poor log-cabin meeting- 
 house in America : so little can the parade and 
 pomp of circumstance do for religion ! Having 
 heard, indistinctly, part of the afternoon service 
 read, and listened to the pretty little Westminster 
 boys chanting the Psalms, we concluded our in- 
 spection of the monuments, where we had begun 
 it, namely, at the Poet's Corner." 
 
 On the 26th August, Mr. Capers left the elegant, 
 hospitable Highbury Lodge, and the far-famed 
 mammoth city of London, never expecting to see 
 either of them again. He was engaged to take 
 breakfast at Mr. Taylor's at half-past eight o'clock, 
 and the stage-coach for Oxford at nine. The part- 
 ing scene was touching. "At seven o'clock all the 
 family were in the library (one hour before their 
 usual hour of rising) to spend the last moments 
 with me, and bid adieu. Mr. Haslope asked me 
 to pray with them ; after which I took leave, not 
 as a stranger would take leave of strangers, but as 
 a friend bidding adieu to beloved and honored 
 friends. Mr. H. had ordered the coach, and accom- 
 
284 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 paniecl me to Mr. Taylor's, where we breakfasted 
 together, and then went to the stage-office. I could 
 not finally leave London, and especially I could 
 not take a final adieu of Mr. Haslope and Mr. 
 Taylor, without feeling much. I have been a 
 month in Mr. Haslope' s family, a stranger, a 
 foreigner, during which time I have had every 
 mark of respect that could have been shown a most 
 honored guest extended to me. More than this : 
 respect, even in this short time, has ripened into 
 affection ; and I have been unceasingly, of late, 
 gratified with the tenderest proofs of it. Nothing 
 has been wanting from every member of the family 
 to show their affection for me. I never knew a 
 more amiable or happy family; I never knew 
 one to whom, in so short 'a time, I felt so much 
 attached." 
 
 This testimony is alike honorable to host and 
 guest. Mr. Capers possessed rare social qualities — 
 genial warmth, quick sympathy with every gene- 
 rous and noble trait of character, rich conversa- 
 tional power, and the ease and finish of elegant 
 manners. He was fitted not only to shine in the 
 higher circles of London society, but to attract 
 genuine esteem and affection. That the Haslopes 
 should have taken him to their hearts is not won- 
 derful. In them he saw a model specimen of the 
 cultivated, refined, Christian, English family. The 
 abolition mania had not then spread its fanatical 
 virus over British society; nor was it considered 
 that an American Christian gentleman had no right 
 
ENGLISH ANTI-SLAVERY. 
 
 285 
 
 to the courtesies of society if lie had the misfortune 
 to come from South Carolina. 
 
 Allowance should undoubtedly be made for the 
 present anti-Southern feelings of our British cousins. 
 It was not until the session of the Wesleyan Con- 
 ference in 1830 that the subject of the abolition of 
 slavery in the West India colonies was formally 
 taken up by the Conference. Only about twenty 
 years previously, Great Britain had put an end to 
 the slave-trade, after having kept it up in full play 
 for two hundred and fifty years, and filled not only 
 the West India islands but the American colonies 
 with enslaved Africans. And it was not until 1834 
 that the British Parliament abolished slavery in the 
 West Indies. The policy, enterprise, and ships of 
 England planted the institution in the Southern 
 States. England is the mother, the dry-nurse of 
 the system ; and to this day the slave-raised cotton 
 of these same States keeps up a large portion of 
 her manufacturing industry. Considering all this, 
 it is not matter of much surprise that her late-born 
 abolition zeal should approach the limits of the 
 farcical. How appropriate, for instance, is it that 
 this zeal should show its abhorrence of a two- 
 hundred and fifty years' policy and profits by de- 
 clining all fraternal ecclesiastical intercourse be- 
 tween its now immaculate self and the Southern 
 American churches around which that very policy 
 -planted the germs of existing servile institutions! 
 The charm of consistency in the whole thing is re- 
 freshing. 
 
286 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 It was the good fortune of Mr. Capers to visit 
 Great Britain before the times were changed. He 
 was received with the utmost cordiality, and with 
 unbounded kindness. The General Conference 
 was thanked for the appointment of so " excellent 
 a representative." His Christian, devout spirit, 
 no less than his " great ability," was noticed in 
 formal resolutions. In fine, the "Wesleyans had 
 not reached that point of progress at which " con- 
 nection with slavery" was the unpardonable sin. 
 He left the shores of Albion in the odor of 
 sanctity ! 
 
 After leaving London he visited Oxford, and 
 saw Mr. Wesley's room in Lincoln College : Kings- 
 wood, and made an address to the sons of the 
 preachers there ; Madeley, and preached in the barn 
 where John Fletcher's voice had so often been 
 heard. The curate, Mr. Cooper, took him through 
 the vicarage-house, garden, church, etc. ; and be- 
 fore they parted asked Mr. Capers to pray with him 
 in the room where both Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher 
 died. He spent a Sabbath at Manchester, went to 
 Leeds, Edinburgh, Glasgow, thence to Belfast and 
 Dublin, and back to Liverpool ; from which port 
 he sailed for Charleston, early in October. The 
 voyage home lasted forty-five days : a length of 
 time almost fabulous in these days of ocean 
 steamers. One storm after another pelted the poor 
 "Lady Rowena." Spars were splintered, sails 
 torn, the ship's cow was battered to death ; they 
 saw the " compesants," fire-balls at the masthead; 
 
THE RETURN HOME. 
 
 28T 
 
 and witnessed the rush of a waterspout which 
 passed with furious bellowing within two hundred 
 yards of the ship. Mr. Capers held Divine service 
 every Sabbath, for the most of the time " all sitting 
 and holding on." With a joy language cannot 
 depict, and with the devoutest gratitude to God for 
 so many mercies, he returned to his own dear 
 family circle, after an absence of nearly six 
 months. 
 
288 
 
 LIFE OE WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Invitation to go to Baltimore — Missions to the blacks established — 
 Results of these missions. 
 
 < On his return from England, Mr. Capers immedi- 
 ately resumed the duties of his Presiding Elder's 
 office. The membership on the Charleston District, 
 as reported at the close of the year 1828, amounted 
 to three thousand four hundred and ninety-two 
 whites, and five thousand nine hundred and seven- 
 ty-seven colored. Soon after the session of the 
 Annual Conference, Dr. T. E. Bond, of Baltimore, 
 opened a correspondence with Mr. Capers, to ascer- 
 tain whether he could be prevailed upon to take 
 a transfer to the Baltimore Conference. Mr. Ca- 
 pers, in reply, adverted to several grave difficulties 
 in the way of such a project. Dr. Bond, in a letter 
 bearing date February 27th, 1829, undertook to 
 obviate these difficulties. One of them was that 
 Dr. Capers was a slaveholder. It had been under- 
 stood that the good old Baltimore Conference had 
 defined its position on this vexed question ; and 
 that, while it tolerated slaveholders among the 
 membership of the Methodist Episcopal Church, it 
 had set its face against having a slaveholder among 
 
INVITATION TO BALTIMORE. 
 
 289 
 
 the travelling preachers. This Mr. Capers consid- 
 ered, of course, a bar to any further negotiations 
 on the subject. As one of the curiosities of eccle- 
 siastical diplomacy, it may interest some of our 
 readers who recollect Dr. Bond's after-course as 
 editor of the Christian Advocate and Journal, and, 
 in particular, his attacks on Dr. Capers personally, 
 as a slaveholder, to see an extract from this letter 
 of February 27th. The following paragraph is a 
 faithful copy from the original : " The friends who 
 united with me in reference to the suggestion made 
 in my last, have very carefully considered the ob- 
 jection you so frankly make to our proposal. But, 
 after mature deliberation, they do not entirely ac- 
 cord with you in the opinion that your transfer to 
 this Conference is unsuitable. In the first place, 
 your apprehension that your being the owner of 
 slaves, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, 
 would operate to your disadvantage, is, we think, 
 a mistake. If you cannot free them where you 
 live, and circumstances render it improper to re- 
 move them, as we understand is the case, we speak 
 advisedly when we say, that your being so unfortu- 
 nate as to be encumbered with slaves will not be in 
 the way of your usefulness in Baltimore." 
 
 Must not strange ideas of ecclesiastical unity ob- 
 tain in a connectional Church which permits a 
 domestic institution, such as slavery, to exist in 
 one portion of its geographical territory, under the 
 full sanction both of disciplinary statute and pub- 
 lic opinion, and, in another portion, condemns the 
 13 
 
290 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 same institution as not only sinful but infamous? — 
 which allows in laymen, family and civil relations 
 which in the case of ministers become at once viola- 
 tions of moral law? — which, consequently, holds 
 to a variable rule of Christian morals, adjusted by 
 a sliding scale — one thing to one man, and alto- 
 gether another to another man? — which asks, 
 " What shall be done for the extirpation of the 
 great evil of slavery?" and answers the question 
 by distinctly permitting it to exist within one half 
 of the ecclesiastical enclosures ? — which deplores 
 a " connection with slavery" as a terrible calamity, 
 and all the while keeps in its communion, as 
 brethren beloved, ministers and laymen who hold 
 slaves ? If it be said that this is an evil, in the 
 eye of ecclesiastical law, only as poverty or bad civil 
 government is an evil, what has the Church to do 
 with it ? If an evil in a moral and religious point 
 of view, in other words a sin, how then can the 
 Church, the guardian of public morals, tolerate it? 
 These questions never have been answered. The 
 whole case is perfectly anomalous. And far back 
 of the General Conference of 1844 must be traced 
 the germ of connectional separation, which came 
 to maturity in the action of a majority of that 
 body, in the cases of a Baltimore preacher and a 
 Georgia Bishop. 
 
 Mr. Capers declined, of course, all overtures to 
 remove from the South Carolina Conference, al- 
 though in the negotiations very liberal offers of a 
 pecuniary sort were made him. He had, indeed, 
 
MISSIONS TO THE BLACKS. 
 
 291 
 
 been compelled to use, of his own small patrimony, 
 at least three thousand dollars beyond the means 
 allowed him for the support of his family, in the 
 service of the Church. Pecuniary embarrassments 
 began to give him some distress of mind ; but as 
 soon as this was known to his friends on the dis- 
 trict, a handsome amount, fully covering what was 
 understood to be his liabilities, was immediately 
 made up, principally in the Black Swamp and 
 Orangeburg Circuits, and presented to him in the 
 kindest and most delicate manner. 
 
 The year 1829 is memorable as the period of the 
 inauguration of a great movement in the Southern 
 portion of the Methodist Church. Two missions 
 to the plantation-slaves were established, one to the' 
 blacks south of Ashley river, to which the Rev. 
 John Honour was appointed missionary; and the 
 other to the blacks on Santee river, who were 
 served by the Rev. J. H. Massey as missionary. 
 Mr. Capers, in addition to his regular duties as 
 Presiding Elder, had the honor to be appointed 
 Superintendent of these missions. In the autumn 
 of the preceding year, after his return from Eng- 
 land, Mr. Capers was waited on by the Hon. 
 Charles C. Pincknej^, a gentleman who had a large 
 planting interest on Santee, to ascertain whether a 
 Methodist exhorter could be recommended to him 
 as a suitable person to oversee his plantation. Mr. 
 Pinckney stated, as the reasons for this application, 
 Mr. Capers's known interest in the religious wel- 
 fare of the colored population, and the fact that 
 
292 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the happy results which had followed the pious en- 
 deavors of a Methodist overseer on the plantation 
 of one of his Georgia friends, had directed his at- 
 tention to the subject. Mr. Capers told Mr. Pinck- 
 ney that he doubted whether he could serve him in 
 that particular way, but that, if he would allow 
 him to make application to the Bishop and Mis- 
 sionary Board at the approaching session of the 
 Conference, he would venture to promise that a 
 minister, for whose character he could vouch fully, 
 should be sent to his plantation as a missionary, 
 whose time and efforts should be devoted exclu- 
 sively to the religious instruction and spiritual wel- 
 fare of his colored people. To this proposal Mr. 
 Pinckney gave his cordial assent. Soon after, Col. 
 Lewis Morris and Mr. Charles Baring, of Pon Pon, 
 united in a similar request. These were gentlemen 
 of high character, who thus took the initiative in 
 a course of missionary operations which may just- 
 ly be termed the glory of Southern Christianity. 
 They were members of the Protestant Episcopal 
 Church, but availed themselves of the earliest 
 opening which the peculiar itinerant organization 
 of the Methodist Church afforded, for furnishing 
 religious instruction to their slaves at the hands of 
 men deemed competent and safe in the judgment 
 of Mr. Capers. 
 
 The position of the plantation negroes on the 
 river-deltas of the low country is peculiar. In this 
 malarial region very few white families are found. 
 Churches are, of course, very scarce; and apart 
 
CONDITION OF THE BLACKS. 
 
 293 
 
 from special arrangements made for the religious 
 improvement of the blacks by the planters, there is 
 no access, in many instances, to any of the agencies 
 of the organized Christianity of the country. 
 Originally brought from Western Africa, the most 
 ignorant and degraded portion of the realm of 
 Paganism ; enslaved, many of them, in their father- 
 land ; victims of debasing superstitions ; what re- 
 cuperative element was there to be found in their 
 condition ? That inscrutable providence of God, 
 whose march through the centuries is apparently 
 slow but with unerring tread and in the right 
 direction, seems to have overruled the cupidity of 
 the British slave-traders, and allowed an exodus 
 of hundreds of thousands of Africa's children to 
 the shores of this country, where, under the mild 
 form of servitude known in the Southern States, 
 they contribute to the feeding and clothing of the 
 world, and are at the same time environed with 
 the light and saving influences of Christian civiliz- 
 ation. Unfit for political freedom, unable to 
 govern themselves ; put by color and caste, as well 
 as by intellectual inferiority, beyond the possibility 
 of any future absorption into the dominant white 
 race, their condition requires but one additional 
 element to render it, in their present circumstances, 
 in the South, the best that appears attainable by 
 them — and that is religious instruction, adapted 
 to their mental capabilities. Much has been said 
 or " shrieked," by traders in philanthropy, con- 
 cerning the "chatter' into which the negro has 
 
294 
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 been transformed by Southern legislation. The 
 fact, however, remains unaltered, that Southern 
 law considers the slave a person, treats him as 
 possessed of ethical character, and protects him as 
 fully, in his place, as it does his master in his. 
 And public opinion freely concedes that moral 
 capabilities and an immortal destiny righteously 
 demand moral cultivation, religious opportunities 
 — in a word, the gospel, which is the chartered 
 right of the poor, and the precious boon of the 
 "bond" as well as the free. The master is under 
 obligation to have his servant taught the duties he 
 owes to God and man. This is one of the respon- 
 sibilities involved in the relation between the 
 parties ; and from this responsibility there is no 
 escape Avhile the relation exists, and while the 
 sanction of the IsTew Testament is claimed for it. 
 
 We have related the circumstances under which 
 the experiment of a system of religious operations 
 among the plantation negroes of South Carolina 
 began. Mr. Capers made regular visitations to 
 the two infant missions during the year. On the 
 11th September, Mr. Honour, who had charge of 
 the one to the south of Charleston, took sick from 
 bilious fever contracted by exposure in the swamps 
 where his mission lay. On the 19th of the same 
 month, after "witnessing a good confession before 
 many witnesses," he triumphantly concluded his 
 mortal life, and entered into life everlasting. Thus 
 the very outset of the enterprise cost the life of a 
 missionary. But this sacrifice furnished proof that 
 
QUESTION OF ABOLITIONISM. 
 
 295 
 
 the heroic spirit of the ancient faith was not yet 
 extinct in the Church; and that Methodist 
 preachers knew how to die. at their posts, though 
 these might lie among the rice-fields and negro- 
 quarters. 
 
 Mr. Capers continued to feel to the time of his 
 death an unabated interest in this missionary 
 work among the blacks of the low-country plan- 
 tations. He was called upon in 1836, in view of 
 the growing excitement at the North on the vexed 
 question, to present, in the Report of the South 
 Carolina Conference Missionary Society, the posi- 
 tion held by the Conference on the subject of 
 abolition. This he did in the following terms : 
 "We regard the question of the abolition of slavery 
 as a civil one, belonging to the State, and not at all 
 a religious one, or appropriate to the Church. 
 Though we do hold that abuses which may some- 
 times happen, such as excessive labor, extreme 
 punishment, withholding necessary food and cloth- 
 ing, neglect in sickness or old age, and the like, 
 are immoralities, to be prevented or punished by 
 all proper means, both of Church discipline and 
 the civil law, each in its sphere. 
 
 "2. We denounce the principles and opinions of 
 the abolitionists in toto, and do solemnly declare 
 our conviction and belief, that whether they were 
 originated, as some business men have thought, as 
 a money speculation, or, as some politicians think, for 
 party electioneering purposes, or, as we are inclined to 
 believe, in a false philosophy, overreaching and 
 
296 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 setting aside the Scriptures, through, a vain conceit 
 of a higher refinement, they are utterly erroneous, 
 and altogether hurtful. 
 
 " 3. We "believe that the Holy Scriptures, so far 
 from giving any countenance to this delusion, do 
 unequivocally authorize the relation of master and 
 slave: 1. By holding masters and their slaves 
 alike, as believers, brethren beloved. 2. By en- 
 joining on each the duties proper to the other. 3. 
 By grounding their obligations for the fulfilment 
 of these duties, as of all others, on their relation to 
 God. Masters could never 4iave had their duties 
 enforced by the consideration, 'your Master who 
 is in heaven,' if barely being a master involved in 
 itself any thing immoral. 
 
 " Our missionaries inculcate the duties of ser- 
 vants to their masters, as we find those duties 
 stated in the Scriptures. They inculcate the per- 
 formance of them as indispensably important. We 
 hold that a Christian slave must be submissive, 
 faithful, and obedient, for reasons of the same 
 authority with those which oblige husbands, wives, 
 fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, to fulfil the duties 
 of these relations. We would employ no one in the 
 work who might hesitate to teach thus ; nor can 
 such a one be found in the whole number of the 
 preachers of this Conference." 
 
 Nearly a generation has passed away since the 
 commencement of these missionary operations 
 among the blacks. It is interesting to trace their 
 expansion and results through a quarter of a cen- 
 
RESULTS OF MISSIONS. 297 
 
 tury. That there has been a large development is 
 proved by the statistics published from year to 
 year by the Missionary Society. In 1833 two 
 additional mission stations were established. In 
 1834, they numbered six ; in 1835, eight ; in 1836, 
 nine; in 1837, ten; and ten years afterwards, viz., 
 in 1847, there were seventeen missions, served by 
 twenty-five efficient preachers of the Conference. 
 At the death of Bishop Capers, there were twenty- 
 six missionary stations in South Carolina, on which 
 were employed thirty-two preachers. The number 
 of Church members at that time was 11,546 on 
 these mission stations. The missionary revenue 
 of the Conference had risen from $300 to $25,000. 
 These are very substantial results, so far as sta- 
 tistics go. 
 
 Beyond all this, several important consequences 
 may be observed. That the religious sentiment of 
 the country should be directed, clearly and strongly, 
 in favor of furnishing the colored population with 
 the means of hearing the gospel of their salvation, 
 and of learning their duty to God and their accounta- 
 bility in a future life, is a very chepring aspect of 
 the whole subject. The history of these missions 
 brings out the fact that the Christian minister has 
 been welcomed on the plantations ; that chapels 
 have been built; liberal contributions been fur- 
 nished by the planters ; master and servant are 
 seen worshipping God together : the spirit of Chris- 
 tian light and love has rea-cted upon the one, while 
 it has directly benefited the other. How important 
 13* 
 
298 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 is a growing public sentiment which shows itself 
 in such aspects as these ! 
 
 We may notice, moreover, the positive influence 
 of Christianity upon the negro population. The 
 gospel is a message intended for all men. It takes 
 up, in its grand generalizations, the bond as well 
 as the free. Its offer of salvation is meant to be 
 irrespective of all outward conditions. That it 
 should be preached to all classes of men, is the 
 distinct and clearly revealed will of God, and, 
 therefore, matter of duty and obligation to the 
 Church. Now, if nothing more had been accom- 
 plished than the meeting of this solemn responsi- 
 bility, that would have been doing much. Success 
 is with God; duty is for us. And so, too, it were 
 matter of special thankfulness with every right- 
 minded master, that, in the peculiar relation sus- 
 tained by him to his slaves, it had been in his 
 power to welcome and ^id the Christian minister 
 in preaching Jesus and the resurrection to his de- 
 pendents, even though no visible fruit of holiness 
 appeared as the result. But beyond all this, it is 
 confidently believed that Christian influence has 
 made itself felt in the conscience, conversation, 
 and life of thousands of the blacks. A vast deal 
 of ignorance has been in the way, on the part of 
 the old negroes ; many superstitious notions, many 
 fixed habits of immorality, have opposed barriers 
 to, the entrance of the word of God to the inner 
 man. The improvement on the part of the younger 
 generation has notbeeil as extensive as their oppor- 
 
SUCCESS AMONG THE BLACKS. 299 
 
 tunities of instruction. Where, indeed, shall we go 
 to find, as yet, the universal sway of Christianity ? 
 And w T here is that community in which it has been 
 allowed to cure all the evils of man's nature? 
 While, however, it is not claimed that any very 
 extraordinary success in the conversion of the 
 blacks has crowned the exertions of the missiona- 
 ries, it will hardly be denied that, in many instances, 
 and on all the mission stations, the force of Chris- 
 tian truth, and the power of Christian motives, and 
 the renewing influences of the Holy Ghost, have 
 been felt. It is obvious that much of the instruc- 
 tion given in the ministrations of the missionaries 
 must, of necessity, deal in the first principles of 
 Christian truth ; must, to a large extent, be adapted 
 to an humble grade of intellect, and a limited range 
 of knowledge ; and must make its impression by 
 constant and patient reiteration. This is precisely 
 what is doing all the time. No romance surrounds 
 such a field of labor; it lacks all the elements 
 which stir the enthusiasm of lofty minds ; it is, in 
 the highest degree, a work of faith, demanding 
 the patience of hope and the labor of love. But 
 now and then a gleam of light breaks out: some 
 death-bed scene in the lowly cabin of the negro- 
 quarter attests the power and glory of the gospel. 
 Instead of the stupid indifference of a semi-brutal 
 nature, or the frantic moanings of a terrified super- 
 stition, the missionary witnesses the calm confi- 
 dence of a faith w^hich leans on the bosom of Jesus 
 — the Man of sorrows — the Son of God ; and which 
 
800 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 trusts his merits for salvation in a crisis that baffles 
 the proudest reason, and prostrates the loftiest self- 
 righteousness. 
 
 But, furthermore, it is worthy of notice that, in 
 connection with regular preaching, the catechetical 
 instruction of the young negroes is constantly at- 
 tended to. This is uniformly done orally. These 
 "little children" are brought to Christ. Is it say- 
 ing too much to affirm that of many such is the 
 kingdom of heaven ? Christian nurture thus grows 
 with their growth. Correct ideas of God, of duty, 
 of the relations of time and eternity, of human ac- 
 countability — the foundation-principles of Chris- 
 tian character and life— are laid in the earliest 
 years of these catechumens. All true and trust- 
 worthy morality, in all classes of society, and par- 
 ticularly in the class now specially referred to, 
 springs from these germs. Beginning with the 
 nascent growth of the intellect, the system has 
 demonstrated the entire practicability of the moral 
 improvement of the African. The lessons im- 
 printed on the mind of childhood maybe neglected 
 and their authority spurned in after life, as in the 
 case of others in different circumstances, but they 
 can never be forgotten. They cling to the mem- 
 ory ; they haunt the conscience ; they whisper in 
 the still small voice ; they work valuable restraints; 
 they furnish salutary directions ; they inspire hopes 
 connected with the soul's best interests ; they form 
 a life-long testimony for God and goodness, and 
 against sin and its fearful retributions in the life to 
 
SUCCESS AMONG THE BLACKS. 
 
 301 
 
 come. It would be singular, indeed, if this im- 
 plantation of moral elements and vital forces, in 
 the very formation of character, should lead to no 
 observable good results in the deportment of the 
 plantation-negro. It is true, that to look for moral 
 results in the absence of moral causes — for honesty, 
 fidelity, industry, sobriety, kindliness, and self- 
 restraint where no moral instruction has been im- 
 parted — would be as absurd as to expect to reap 
 where there has been no sowing. But such an 
 absurdity is not involved in the present case. The 
 bloom of spring and the fruits of summer are not 
 anticipated where the tree is severed from its root. 
 The moral nurture is given, and we have a right to 
 anticipate appropriate and salutary results. 
 
 In point of fact, a gratifying degree of success 
 has crowned these efforts. The testimony of mas- 
 ters and missionaries goes to show that a whole- 
 some effect has been produced upon the character 
 of the negro population generally. A change for 
 the better is visible everywhere, when the present 
 generation is contrasted with the past. And in 
 how many instances the gospel has proved the 
 power of God to salvation, and presented before 
 the throne the spirits of these children of Ham, 
 redeemed and washed " by the blood of sprinkling," 
 and fitted for an abode in heaven, the revelations 
 of the last day will disclose. Eesults such as these 
 lie, of course, beyond the track of mortal observa- 
 tion. But if these ministerial labors have indeed 
 been instrumental in developing and directing 
 
802 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 aright the sentiment of religion ; the capability of 
 knowing God so as to- fear him; of guiding to 
 Christ, and ultimately to heaven, any number of 
 these docile and lowly but yet immortal beings, 
 for whom redemption was provided in the sacrifice 
 of the Son of God, then they deserve to be reckoned 
 among the noblest triumphs of missionary patience 
 and zeal ; none the less important that they lie at 
 home, nor the less noteworthy in contrast with the 
 turbulent, malign, and desolating frenzy at the 
 North, which, making the civil and social relations 
 of this class of our population the pretext, has 
 broken up Church associations, carried politics 
 into the pulpit, and is pushing the miners and 
 sappers to the very foundations of the Federal Union. 
 Looking from his death-bed at the peaceful progress 
 of that system of operations for the religious in- 
 struction of the slaves of his native State which 
 Dr. Capers had been instrumental in setting on 
 foot, he might well have said : 
 "Deus nobis hsec otia fecit/' 
 
DOCTOR 01 DIVINITY. 
 
 303 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Elected Professor in Franklin College — His own humble apprecia- 
 tion of his scholastic abilities — Severe illness — Castile Selby — 
 Stationed in Columbia — Correspondence with Dr. Cooper. 
 
 In November, 1829, Mr. Capers was elected Pro- 
 fessor of Moral Philosophy and Belles Lettres in 
 Franklin College, Georgia. The appointment was 
 made before any consultation had been held with 
 him. It was the result of the high appreciation in 
 which his character and talents were held in Geor- 
 gia. He declined the professorship, however. 
 About the same time the degree of Doctor of 
 Divinity was conferred upon him by the Trustees of 
 Augusta College, Kentucky. In reference to this, 
 he made the following statement, a year or two 
 afterward, to Dr. R. Paine: " The title was con- 
 ferred on me without my knowledge, by a young 
 college, and one of our own ; and out of delicacy 
 toward the college, as well as that a great deal was 
 made out of Mr. Beman and Mr. Cox's having de- 
 clined the same title about the same time, I thought 
 it best to be silent; but I must confess I have 
 never been quite satisfied with myself in that 
 matter." 
 
 The reader is aware that bad health had pre- 
 
304 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 vented the completion of Dr. Capers's college train- 
 ing. In the ceaseless, miscellaneous duties of a 
 travelling preacher he had found little opportunity 
 for severe, systematic study. He was far more a 
 man of vigorous, original thought than a man of 
 books. He appreciated high scholarship, and his 
 taste was exquisite; but he made no pretensions to 
 a learning which nothing but years of patient, 
 laborious study can bestow. Genius, withal, has 
 some perilous gifts in her dower — vivacity, fluency, 
 quickness of apprehension, and opulence of fancy. 
 These are too often depended on in youth, and 
 made to supply the place of that mental drill which 
 alone carries the powers to their complete and 
 ultimate development, and makes the intellectual 
 character teres et rotundus. The subject of this 
 memoir was a man of action, a man of keen and 
 quick observation, of profound and original reflec- 
 tion ; he was indebted to books for but little of his 
 distinction. Had he been a hard student, it can 
 scarcely be questioned that his mental grasp would 
 have been wider, and his influence greater. 
 
 In the autumn of 1830, Dr. Capers had a severe 
 attack of illness, taken while attending a camp- 
 meeting in the Cypress Circuit. After a sick night 
 he set out at the break of day on Monday morning, 
 hoping to reach his home in Charleston that night, 
 a distance of fifty miles. He drove the whole dis- 
 tance without stopping for refreshment. On his 
 arrival he was nearly exhausted ; and when Airs. 
 Capers made some exclamation of surprise at his 
 
DANGEROUS ILLNESS. 
 
 305 
 
 looking so ill, lie said, "I am feeling badly, but 
 my poor horse must be attended to." While he 
 was in the yard superintending the rubbing of his 
 horse, and giving directions for the proper care of 
 him, Mrs. Capers sent for the family physician, 
 Dr. Dickson, without his knowledge. When the 
 Doctor came, he expressed the pleasure he always 
 felt at meeting him, but regretted that his wife 
 should be so easily frightened. "T > > m& a'lad 
 she has sent for me," Dr. Diokso/ e >r 
 there is v no time to lose in your toi . v as 
 
 immediately put under active treatmc at so 
 
 violent was the fever that for several weeks his life 
 seemed to hang in the balance, when a feather's 
 weight on the fatal side would have terminated his 
 course of usefulness on earth. Every possible atten- 
 tion was showed him, and a deep and general soli- 
 citude was felt for him in the community. As the 
 crisis of the disease approached, he expressed a 
 calm but firm reliance on Christ; he spoke in 
 touching terms of his unworthiness ; gave, as was 
 supposed, his dying- charge to his sorrowing wife, 
 and his last farewell to his weeping children. 
 There was not the rapture and exultation which 
 marked a former illness, when he requested Mrs. 
 Capers to write down, as he dictated, the following 
 couplet : 
 
 " 0 may I joy in all his life, 
 
 And shout the Cross in death!" 
 
 " Give me the paper," he said ; " I wish to draw a 
 line under the words, 
 
306 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 "And shout the Cross in death" 
 
 repeating the expression several times. But on 
 the occasion now describing, more of solemn awe 
 and calm confidence in the Redeemer, than of 
 rapturous exultation, marked his spirit. Mrs. 
 Capers was kneeling at his bedside, with one of 
 his hands clasped in both of hers. The present 
 writer, then stationed in Charleston, stood at his 
 head bathing his forehead with ice-water, when a 
 venerable African, Castile Selby, one of the holiest 
 and best men of the colored charge in the city, a 
 class-leader of long standing, and highly respected 
 by Dr. Capers, came into the # chamber of death. 
 "I am glad to see you, Father Castile," said Dr. 
 Capers: "you find me near my end, but kneel 
 down and turn your face to the wall, and pray for 
 me; and all of you pray." Castile's prayer was 
 memorable ; full of humble submission to the 
 Divine will, but full of pleading, mighty faith in 
 the great Mediator. He asked of God, the giver 
 of life, that the life of his beloved pastor might be 
 spared to the Church. This prayer was memorable, 
 too, in its immediate results. The first words from 
 the sick minister after its close were: "I feel 
 better." Shortly after, Dr. Dickson made his 
 morning visit, and pronounced the crisis past. A 
 rapid convalescence ensued, and he was soon in the 
 pulpit again. 
 
 The account given of Henry Evans, of Fayette- 
 ville, by Dr. Capers in his Recollections, has been 
 read, no doubt, with interest. We are able to pre- 
 
CASTILE SELBY. 
 
 307 
 
 sent, through, the kindness of the Rev. U. Sinclair 
 Bird, several interesting particulars of Castile 
 Selby, written for him by Dr. Capers. He became 
 acquainted with Castile in 1811. He says of him : 
 " I can call to mind no other person of our colored 
 society of that early day, who, of nearly Castile's 
 age, was esteemed as much as he, though there 
 were some very worthy men among them. The 
 weight and force of his character was made up of 
 humility, sincerity, simplicity, integrity, and con- 
 sistency ; for all which he was remarkable, not only 
 among his fellows of the colored society in Charles- 
 ton, but, I might say, among all whom I have ever 
 known. He was one of those honest men who 
 need no proof of it. No one who saw him could 
 suspect him. Disguise or equivocation lurked no- 
 where about him. Just what he seemed to be, that 
 he invariably was — neither less nor more. Add to 
 this a thorough piety, (which indeed was the root 
 and stock of all his virtues,) and you will find ele- 
 ments enough for the character of no common 
 man ; and such was Castile Selby. Let me men- 
 tion some particular characteristics which distin- 
 guished him. I notice his love of order — order, 
 not in the sense of regularity only, but of a prime 
 law of society, giving to it symmetry, consistency, 
 and permanence. It was evidently a ruling prin- 
 ciple with daddy Castile. Not only was the house 
 he lived in, and the few inferior articles of furniture 
 which it contained, kept in order, that is, clean and 
 to rights, but there was order in that old tarpaulin 
 
308 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 hat, and well-patched linsey-woolsey coat, which 
 marked the old cartman as he trudged the streets 
 from day to day, with his old bay-horse and well- 
 worn cart, hauling wood. And then there was order 
 in that clean, unpatched, but still linsey-woolsey 
 coat, and that blue striped handkerchief tied about 
 his head, in which he was to be seen at the house 
 of God, morning, afternoon, and evening, on the 
 Sabbath day. And I will add that a love of order 
 had a full share in his seeming indifference to cold 
 and wet, plying his cart as diligently in inclement 
 weather as if it had been fair and pleasant. If I 
 ever knew a man who was so completely satisfied 
 with his condition as to prefer no change whatever, 
 that man was Castile Selby. His dwelling might 
 have been better, his apparel better, and he might 
 have relieved himself of much fatigue and exposure, 
 but he deemed it unbecoming. On these and kin- 
 dred subjects I knew his feelings well, having had 
 much conversation with him, and telling him 
 plainly that I thought him wrong. But I could not 
 convince him, while he satisfied me that he was 
 governed by a sense of duty, the fitness and force 
 of which he was better prepared to judge of than 
 perhaps I was. For example : Noticing the mean- 
 ness of his clothing, and expressing a fear that it 
 might not be comfortable, 6 No, master,' he has 
 said, 'these old clothes make me quite comfort- 
 able. They just suit my business, and so they just 
 suit me.' Remarking on his. Sunday clothes, that 
 he might improve them a little, 'Ah, sir,' he has 
 
CASTILE SELBY. 
 
 809 
 
 answered, ' don't you see how our colored people 
 are turning fools after dress and fashion, just as if 
 they were white ? They want somebody to hold 
 them back. I dress for my color. And besides 
 that, master, how can I take what the Lord is 
 pleased to give me to do some little good with, and 
 put it on my back V 
 
 " But it was his indefatigable industry, not allow- 
 ing of a reasonable suspension of his labors in bad 
 weather, which most frequently induced our friendly 
 disputes. For a number of years occasion was fre- 
 quently offered for these ; and though I never could 
 convince him, and he persevered in his habits to 
 the last of life, I seldom let an opportunity slip 
 without some words of remonstrance. I wish I 
 could give you an exact representation of some of 
 these disputes. Exact I could not make it, and yet 
 I think I can call up what may interest you. Let 
 me try : 
 
 " 6 Well, well, Father Castile ! Out again in the 
 rain with that old coat ! "Why in the world will 
 you expose yourself so? And are not your legs 
 swelled, even now?' 
 
 " 6 Ah, master, I thought you would scold if you 
 happened to meet me. But no matter, master; 
 the rain won't hurt me, I am used to it.' 
 
 " ' But it will hurt you ; it must hurt you. And I 
 dare say those swelled legs came by just such 
 exposure as this. You ought to be at home ; and 
 do pray, now, go home and keep yourself comfort- 
 able.' " 
 
810 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 "'For your sake, sir, I would go home, but 
 several families are looking for me to haul them 
 wood to-day, and I must not disappoint them.' 
 
 " 'And who will haul them wood after you have 
 killed yourself?' 
 
 " 'I won't kill myself, sir; I have been used to this 
 all my life, and use, as you know, is second nature. 
 I never find myself any better for lying up. But, 
 master, a'n't you out too ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, I am ; but it is only for a little time, and 
 I am fully protected ; but here you are regularly at 
 it for a day's work, with no protection from the 
 weather but your hat, and that threadbare blanket 
 overcoat. You really ought to go home. Think 
 you that the second nature you talk about can 
 make an old infirm man like you vouns; again ? 
 You can't stand it, Father Castile, and you ought 
 not to try to stand it. Do pray go home.' 
 
 " 'Ah, master ! They say, "Better wear out than 
 rust out.''' There are too many lazy people rusting 
 out, for me to lie up because it rains a little. By- 
 and-by they'll say, " Castile is lazy too ;" or " Cas- 
 tile is turned gentleman, and can't wet his foot;" 
 and what can I say? If they are negroes, so am 
 I. If they ought to work, I ought to work too. I 
 can't help working, master, and I don't want to 
 help it. It is the lot it has pleased God to give me, 
 and it suits me best.' 
 
 "As the infirmities of age increased on my old 
 friend, while his habits of continual industry seemed 
 indomitable, I became anxious about him ; and 
 
CASTILE SELBY. 
 
 311 
 
 after conversing with several of our brethren, and 
 finding them of my own mind with respect to him, 
 I determined to adopt a course which I supposed 
 must prove effectual. I told him that while his 
 long course of holy living had made him friends of 
 the principal members of the church, who shared 
 with me the kindest feelings for him, and were 
 more than willing to provide for all his wants, it 
 placed him in a position with respect to the colored 
 society which we thought required, both for him- 
 self and them, that his time should be differently 
 employed from what it had been. We were fully 
 persuaded that it was our duty to rescue him from 
 his cart, and put it in his power to employ all his 
 time in a way which we believed would prove more 
 to the glory of God ; and that was, (while he should 
 be able to go about,) to visit the sick, aged, and 
 infirm, and look after the flock generally, praying 
 with them, and doing them all the spiritual good 
 in his power. For his comfortable support during 
 the remainder of his life, such and such reliable 
 gentlemen would pledge themselves, I would pledge 
 myself, and the stewards of the church would see 
 that he lacked nothing. ' ]NTow, my old friend,' 
 said I, ' we want you to sell your horse and cart 
 immediately, and use the money as you think pro- 
 per : you shall want for nothing ; and let it be your 
 only business to help all the souls you can to 
 heaven.' He received this proposition with pro- 
 found sensibility and many thanks ; but could be 
 induced only to add that he would think of it. It 
 
312 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 was just before my journey to attend General Con- 
 ference ; and on my return to Charleston, I had 
 scarcely reached my door before I saw Castile 
 Selby, just as aforetime, seated on his throne, the 
 old cart. 'Ah, master,' said he, ' the very thing 
 you would do for me to make me useful, would 
 hinder more than it would help me. It would make 
 some envious ; some would call me parson, and say 
 the white people had spoiled me; and nobody 
 would take me to be the same Castile I have alwaj^s 
 been. There is nothing better for me than this 
 same old cart.' " 
 
 At the beginning of the year 1830, the South 
 Carolina Conference was divided, the Georgia Con- 
 ference set off, and the Savannah river made the 
 dividing line. At the close of the year Dr. Capers 
 completed his quadrennial term on the Charleston 
 District. During the four years there had been an 
 accession to the membership of the Church within 
 the bounds of the district, of one thousand one 
 hundred and forty-nine whites, and two thousand 
 two hundred and forty-nine colored. 
 
 His next station was Columbia. It was soon 
 found that the crowds attracted by his eloquent 
 preaching made it necessary to have a larger church. 
 Arrangements were accordingly made for the erec- 
 tion of a brick edifice, of which, in the course of 
 the summer, he laid the corner-stone. 
 
 Dr. Thomas Cooper was at this time the President 
 of the State College at Columbia ; a man of large 
 scientific acquirements and vigorous intellect, but 
 
DR. THOMAS COOPER. 313 
 
 understood to be skeptical in his opinions on 
 religion. The fortunes of the college were waning 
 under his administration, as Christian sentiment in 
 the country arrayed itself against an institution 
 which, it was feared, was becoming the arida nutrix 
 of infidel principles. This probably gave addi- 
 tional exasperation to the learned President, and 
 sharpened the edge of his invective against the 
 clergy. Early in May, Dr. Cooper sent a copy of 
 his last Commencement address, printed and pub- 
 lished at the request of the senior class, to Dr. 
 Capers, accompanied with a polite letter in which 
 he said : "I feel desirous that my invectives against 
 a money-seeking, hireling ministry, may not be 
 understood as applying to the ministers of the 
 Methodist persuasion, whose very moderate re- 
 ceipts, as a pecuniary compliment from their con- 
 gregations, have never been considered by me in 
 the light of a compensation ; and because the ambi- 
 tious projects of some of the clergy to establish a 
 union between Church and State (of which, I regret 
 to say, I have undeniable proofs) are by no means 
 participated in, or in any degree approved, by the 
 leaders of your persuasion. When I find myself 
 mistaken in this opinion, my present respect for 
 the Methodists will be greatly lessened. At pre- 
 sent, I hope and believe, they are fully deserving 
 not merely of my personal approbation, for their 
 praiseworthy and quiet demeanor, and absence 
 from all political intermeddling, but they have 
 earned also, and enjoy, the respect and approbation 
 14 
 
314 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 of the public. With. John and Charles Wesley, 
 and the two sons of the latter, I was well acquainted 
 in my early day, and a visitor in the family of the 
 latter. During my occasional intercourse with that 
 great and good man, John Wesley, I was fully 
 persuaded, from much personal observation, that he 
 received from his hearers food and clothing and a 
 horse, and no more. I knew his habits, and I 
 know, too, that he died in circumstances fully con- 
 firming his oft-repeated declaration, that if he left 
 behind him at his death more than ten pounds, 
 when his funeral expenses were paid, the world 
 might consider him a thief and a robber. A sect 
 organized by such a man, so thinking and so 
 acting, is not likely to be over-anxious either for 
 wealth or power." 
 
 The letter concluded with sincere assurances of 
 good-will and great respect. 
 
 Dr. Capers made suitable acknowledgments in 
 reply ; but took occasion, with becoming respect, 
 to suggest that it appeared to him that the public 
 would be apt to consider the invectives of the 
 address as levelled against the clergy of all sects ; 
 and that against a public implication it might be 
 improper for him to acknowledge a private exemp- 
 tion, further than as a compliment to an individual. 
 
 To this Dr. Cooper replied : "I do not see how I 
 can publicly express my opinion that a hireling 
 ministry is a term not applicable to the teachers 
 and preachers of your persuasion but you are at 
 full liberty to use my letter as you see fit." 
 
LETTER TO DR. COOPER. 315 
 
 In a subsequent letter, Dr. Cooper expressed him- 
 self frankly in respect to his own religious opin- 
 ions. He thought that the leaning of the doctrines 
 of Jesus Christ, and the Apostle John, was in 
 favor of those opinions : whether they could be 
 reconciled to the notions of St. Paul, "the great 
 corrupter of Christianity,' ' as he thought, he could 
 not affirm. His opinions, at least, had cost him 
 much hard study and anxious inquiry. 
 
 The following admirable passage closed a long 
 letter, in return, from Dr. Capers: "With, respect 
 to your opinion of Christian doctrine, I have 
 nothing to remark in the way of controversy. I 
 am fully persuaded that neither metaphysics nor 
 logic ever made or can make a true Christian. 
 The way to Christ, who is the Saviour of all men, 
 must be level and accessible to all. 6 Jesus answered 
 and said, I thank thee, 0 Father, Lord of heaven 
 and earth, because thou hast hid these things from 
 the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
 babes.' And again: 'If any man will do his will, 
 he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, 
 or whether I speak of myself.' I forbear a quota- 
 tion from St. Paul; but allow me to express my 
 regret that you should consider him 'the great 
 corrupter of Christianity.' Alas, sir, 'if the found- 
 ations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?' 
 Suffer me thus far, and let me add, out of an honest 
 heart, the following sentiments. Of all men, 
 merely man, who have ever lived, I most admire 
 that one, who (the plenary inspiration "of the 
 
816 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 apostle aside) gave the highest evidence of a 
 disinterested and unlimited devotion to the will of 
 God and the good of mankind ; who followed the 
 light of Heaven without faltering, though it led 
 him to a distance from every worldly interest, to 
 take for his daily fare hunger and thirst, bonds and 
 imprisonment, stripes, stoning, and death ; and 
 who, more than any other, was honored of God as 
 an instrument of spreading abroad the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ.' ' 
 
MISS JANE A. FAUST. 
 
 817 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Miss Jane A. Faust — Miss Maxwell — An awakening sermon — Rhymes 
 — Dr. Capers removes to Charleston — General Conference of 1832 
 — Is offered the Presidency of LaGrange College. 
 
 In the circle of young, admiring, loving friends 
 whom Dr. Capers drew around him in Columbia, 
 was one whose preeminent worth, intellectual and 
 moral, won a high place in his esteem — Miss Jane 
 A. Faust. His preaching and conversation were 
 eminently adapted to impress a mind like hers. 
 The sentiment of admiration deepened into a 
 serious concern for her soul ; and she was led to 
 Christ, and found peace in believing. She became 
 a communicant in the Methodist Episcopal Church 
 in the course of the next year, under the ministry 
 of the Rev. Josiah Freeman, for whom also she 
 felt a very high regard. Dr. Capers, a few years 
 after her death, published in the Southern Chris- 
 tian Advocate a couple of brief elegiac poems, 
 written on the occasion of her early and lamented 
 departure, by her friend Mrs. Martin ; prefacing 
 them by describing Miss Faust as one " who 
 possessed and exercised, especially in the latter 
 years of her brief and lovely life, the highest quali- 
 fications for making one's friends happy." He ex- 
 
318 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 pressed his admiration of "her genius, accomplish- 
 ments, sweetness of spirit, devotion to her friends, 
 and piety towards God;" and added: "Miss Faust 
 never made a book — she shrank from publicity — 
 but I have known no one whose conversation or 
 letters were superior if equal to hers." 
 
 From such a source, this is high praise ; but it 
 was well deserved. Miss Faust's mind was by 
 native endowment of the highest order; and it 
 was developed by early, careful, and varied culture. 
 Kacy, sparkling, and full of animation, her con- 
 versation possessed a charm for every listener. Its 
 excellences were so peculiar that a public speaker, 
 desirous of fashioning his style upon the best 
 models, might have cultivated her society, on the 
 principle which induced Cicero to resort to the 
 company of the noble and refined Roman matrons, 
 to perfect his mastery of the Latin tongue. The 
 fascination of her manners and the grace of her 
 carriage were in keeping with her " winged and 
 winning speech." Her eye shone with the clear 
 light of a serene intellect ; and her face was radiant 
 with the beaming of sincerity and pure-mindedness. 
 Her look indicated warmth of heart, and steady 
 resolve, as though she could stand for the truth, 
 like Abdiel, 
 
 "Amidst revolted multitudes, alone." 
 
 In her religious experience she was ever watchful 
 lest well-formed opinions should be mistaken for 
 gracious feelings, and a correct judgment of things 
 be allowed to pass for an active principle of piety. 
 
MISS JANE A. FAUST. 
 
 319 
 
 Her faith in Christ rested on an intelligent per- 
 ception of the fact that in the circumstances of 
 moral defection which environ the human race, 
 merit is an impossible plea; that the sinner must 
 be saved by grace ; and that this grace is " through 
 the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.'' Away 
 from all conceit of self-righteousness, her spirit 
 hasted to the sanctuary whose altar yet retains the 
 fragrance of the sacrifice " once offered" by the 
 " Victim Divine," and whose foundation was hewn 
 from the "Rock of Ages." The strength of her 
 piety* was tested, and its loveliness illustrated, 
 amidst manifold physical sufferings. In the flower 
 of life consumption did its fatal work. In the last 
 letter she ever wrote, when too feeble to converse 
 with the kind friends who waited upon her, and 
 watched the advance of the shadow of death, and 
 with strength scarce sufficient to guide her pen, 
 she said : " There seems to be much physical suffer- 
 ing in store for me ; but it matters not, if Christ be 
 mine. Washed and sanctified by his Spirit, (if at 
 last it should be,) the struggles of feail mortality 
 will not affect the homeward bound of my reno- 
 vated spirit. Sometimes I am so weary of myself 
 and sin, so 'tempest-tossed and afflicted and not 
 comforted,' that I long to be at rest. 0 for a full, 
 unwavering trust in Christ for salvation from all 
 sin ! Feeble as my faith is, how precious does the 
 blood of Christ appear — how sweet the hope of 
 pardon he has purchased for us !" A week or two 
 after this, on the evening of January 2, 1834, she 
 
320 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 entered into her everlasting rest. "With perfect 
 composure of mind, with the exclamation; " Bound- 
 less mercy, full and free!" whispered forth again 
 and again — her bodily sufferings all ended — death 
 gently loosed the bonds of the frail tabernacle, and 
 set free the immortal spirit to find a congenial 
 home in the abodes of light and bliss, where reign 
 for ever sceptred Mercy and enthroned Love. 
 
 Do we feel to wonder why powers and capabili- 
 ties such as these should just appear and then 
 vanish ? Are we surprised that excellence of the 
 highest order, fitted to enrich and adorn human 
 society, the embodiment of one's pure ideal beauty, 
 should pass away in its freshest morning bloom ? 
 that some bright particular star, the cynosure of 
 every admiring eye, should suddenly disappear like 
 the lost Pleiad? The intuition of reason, which 
 cannot deceive us in such a case, is that a prepa- 
 ration so elaborate, a prelude so magnificent, can- 
 not thus end, but must have a fitting completion. 
 What that completion is, and where we are to find 
 it, Revelation has unerringly taught. Heaven is 
 the magnet which has drawn to itself all this early 
 loveliness and excellence. The celestial bowers, 
 where live the loved and lost, supply the congenial 
 atmosphere for the expansion of these high and 
 holy qualities. From the city of God, the long-lost 
 friends of our youth wave a welcome to us ; — is it 
 saying too much, to add, that probably they will be 
 the first to greet our approach ? 
 
 When Mary poured the spikenard over the head 
 
MISS MAXWELL. 
 
 321 
 
 of Jesus, the testimonial of an adoring love which 
 counted nothing too costly, the tribute of a vene- 
 ration which recognized the Lord of glory in the 
 "Man of sorrows," Jesus said: "Wheresoever this 
 gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there 
 shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told 
 for a memorial of her." Let this page be, in its 
 humble measure, a memento of one of Mary's own 
 sex, as lovely, perchance, in person, with a sensi- 
 bility as tender, an intelligence as quick, who 
 exercised faith in Jesus, while Mary had the evi- 
 dence of sense ; who possessed the consummated 
 truth and blessing of the gospel, while Mary stood 
 only at the brightening dawn ; who poured out the 
 fragrance of her heart's most precious affections at 
 the feet of the same Jesus ; saw in him the face of 
 infinite beauty ;* found in the mystery of his tran- 
 scendent love the theme of loftiest thought and 
 ever-adoring delight ; and to the last throb of 
 consciousness trusted her all in his hands — then 
 passed on into the upper sanctuary, to the bright- 
 ness and rapture of the vision for ever. 
 
 Among the young lady friends of Dr. Capers in 
 Columbia, was another who owed much of her 
 religious impressions to his instrumentality — Miss 
 Maxwell, now Mrs. William Martin. Her own 
 account of the first sermon she heard from him is as 
 follows: "His text was the sixty-seventh Psalm, 
 entire. Now, for the first time, I heard preaching 
 .with the hearing ear. The sermon was a beautiful 
 paraphrase of the Psalm. Never, till this evening 
 14* 
 
322 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 at churehj had my mind so realized the might, 
 majesty, and grandeur of that God, ' glorious in 
 holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders.' "What 
 a new gospel it appeared to me, so full of benefi- 
 cence, love, and mercy ! I had listened to dis- 
 courses of learning, eloquence, and fluency before, 
 but never before heard the message that went 
 straight to my heart. I felt it was for me. That 
 message I must hearken to and obey. It was im- 
 perative on me to do so. Woe was me, I felt, if I 
 regarded it not. Before, I had been convinced of 
 sin, but the impression had been vague, and had 
 proved evanescent. K"ow I felt that the matter 
 between me and my Grod must be settled at once. 
 But my mind was still much clouded, my views 
 confused, my thoughts perplexed. The minister 
 of that evening was, providentially, a guest at the 
 house of a mutual friend in my immediate neigh- 
 borhood. Frequently it was arranged that I had 
 the opportunity of conversing with him touching 
 those things that would make for my peace. How 
 beautifully he smoothed, and simplified, and 
 softened all, till my difficulties were removed, and 
 my way was clear to follow Jesus in the regene- 
 ration !" 
 
 This lady has kindly furnished the following jeu 
 (Eesprit from the pen of Dr. Capers. It was in 
 answer to a poetical letter, written on the eve of 
 the Doctor's departure from Columbia, and bears 
 date, Charleston, February 17, 1832: 
 
MISS MAXWELL. 
 
 323 
 
 " My dear Margaret : — You must not be grieved 
 that the lines you put into my wife's hand so kind- 
 ly, when I was leaving Columbia, and one other sim- 
 ilar provocation, should rouse me a little. Some of 
 you good girls have such a propensity to mischief, 
 that one can hardly get along with you without 
 fetching a slap now and then. I remember to have 
 given Jane (Miss Faust) a sound box once for 
 something she said — actually struck her a blow 
 on the shoulder — and she thanked me for it, £ be- 
 cause/ said she, 6 1 know you are not vexed with 
 me, or you would not slap me/ As for your part, 
 I dare say this same black and white box I am 
 giving you will be returned by a courtesy, and you 
 will have impudence enough to tell me I like to be 
 flattered, or I would not take the trouble to dis- 
 claim it. "Well, who knows but I do like to be, 
 when it is done so decently as by Miss Maxwell ? 
 But I forewarn you, you are not to make a poetaster 
 of me. A poet I cannot be made by both of us 
 together. The Fates, if there be any, do positively 
 forbid it. It is a great effort to put rhymes of my 
 forming into gifted hands — or even into any hands 
 at all — and yet I believe some very clever men have 
 been guilty of some very prosing rhymes. 
 
 " Yours affectionately, W. Capers." 
 
 "I always have heard that affection was kind, 
 And now I've discovered she also is blind ; 
 Puts out her own eyes that her heart may be free 
 To imagine perfections she never could see. 
 
324 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 'Tis strange, I confess, but 'tis certainly true, 
 
 (I owe the discovery, Margaret, to you,) 
 
 I have proof upon proof of it, rife and at hand, 
 
 That might challenge belief all over the land. 
 
 There lived where I lived a girl of your name, 
 
 And so like yourself she might pass for the same ; 
 
 A very good girl, and a girl of much wit, 
 
 Except where I'll tell where she showed not a bit. 
 
 This same clever girl had a friend whom I knew, 
 
 A friend as like me as she was like you ; 
 
 A well-meaning man, and a preacher withal, 
 
 Who, besides being honest, claimed nothing at all, 
 
 Except the rare luck, if luck it might be, 
 
 To have friends among folks that were better than he. 
 
 Of these— and indeed they were many and true — 
 
 Was the girl I have mentioned as so much like you; 
 
 And, as was the person, her friendship, I ween, 
 
 Was just like the friendship that joins us between ; 
 
 That same hearty feeling of feeling at heart, 
 
 For better or worse, each to take other's part. 
 
 The good man was bald, but a complaisant whim 
 Could convert even baldness to beauty for him ; 
 For bis hair had but fallen in grace to his head, 
 That a wreath of Parnassus might grow in its stead; 
 And the Muses were there with their pencils of fire, 
 And cymbals, and lutes, and the sweet-sounding lyre, 
 To crown with a glory, and chant to the skies, 
 Whom, think ye? — Alas for the sight of blind eyes!" 
 
 The two following years were spent in Charles- 
 ton. In April, 1832, he took ship for New York, 
 en route to Philadelphia, the seat of the General 
 Conference, to which he had been appointed one 
 of the delegates of the South Carolina Conference. 
 The following are extracts from his correspondence 
 with Mrs. Capers : 
 
GENERAL CONFERENCE. 
 
 325 
 
 "New York, April 26, 1832. 
 
 "After as pleasant a passage as a reasonable 
 man might hope for, we arrived here this morning. 
 On the way, and till now, I have had no symptom 
 of my complaint, (neuralgia,) and my general 
 health is very good. I suffered, however, with my 
 unsteady head during most of the voyage, and as 
 much, nearly, as on my first voyage at sea. The 
 preachers were very sick for the first two days, ex- 
 cept brothers Dunwody and Bass, who were not 
 sick at all, but did justice to their stomachs from 
 first to last. English and Sinclair suffered most. 
 "W" e had no storm, nor, indeed, any rough weather. 
 The wind, when ahead, was moderate, and for 
 three days we had almost a dead calm. I am 
 writing this in Bishop McKendree's room, at the 
 house of brother Francis Hall. The Bishop is as 
 well as I have seen him for a long time. I have 
 nothing more worth telling, just now having 
 landed." 
 
 4 'Philadelphia, May 1. 
 
 " The General Conference commenced its session 
 this morning, and has entered upon business under 
 favorable circumstances. Bishops McKendree, 
 Soule, and Hedding are with us. Bishop Roberts 
 has not yet arrived, but is daily expected. Brother 
 Andrew and myself are most delightfully situated 
 at brother Longacre's, (the distinguished engraver,) 
 who, and his charming wife, are most kindly and 
 affectionately careful of us in all respects. You 
 
326 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 will not expect me to give any important informa- 
 tion respecting the transactions of the Conference 
 for some time yet. I cannot even conjecture what 
 may be clone. "With respect to any thing that may 
 be thought of respecting myself^ I will do all I can 
 with a good conscience to come back to Charleston 
 and Carolina as I left ; holding still my motto, 
 
 < Let me be little and unknown, 
 Loved and prized by God alone.' 
 
 It is possible some efforts will be made to place me 
 in the Book Agency. But as I am not fashioned 
 on a business model, I can, with a good conscience, 
 excuse myself. I eat enormously, sleep soundly, 
 and am growing fat ; indeed, I never felt myself in 
 better health, though perhaps I have been stronger 
 than at present." 
 
 " Philadelphia, May 12. 
 
 " Since my last we have not carried through 
 much business to its final termination ; but much 
 has been brought into Conference, and is under 
 consideration. The resolution I drew up at home 
 respecting the regular and full publication of the 
 pecuniary transactions of the Annual Conferences, 
 so far as relates to the deficiencies of the preachers, 
 and the widows and orphans of preachers, has 
 passed without opposition. The Committee on 
 Bibles, Tracts, and Sunday-school Books, adopted, 
 and have reported, a series of resolutions which I 
 prepared ; and, what is gratifying, without one 
 word from me in support of them. I feel pretty 
 
GENERAL 
 
 CONFERENCE. 
 
 327 
 
 confident I shall escape all other honors but that 
 desirable one of helping some little towards the 
 accomplishment of the business of the Church on 
 which we are met. I have it not yet in my power to 
 say how many Bishops we shall elect, or who will 
 be the men. It think it pretty well ascertained, or 
 at least enough so to authorize a guess, that if but 
 one Bishop be elected, he will be brother Andrew 
 or Dr. Emory. If two, these will be the men. 
 But if three, the guess for the third is uncertain. 
 Most of the Northern brethren say they consider 
 we ought to have a Bishop at the South, and will 
 vote for brother Andrew on our recommendation 
 as the man. With respect to having a paper at 
 Charleston, I think the chance rather doubtful. 
 But I am glad to say there is a good prospect of 
 getting brother Durbin as editor of the Christian 
 Advocate and Journal, in whose hands the paper 
 will not be liable to any objections from the South." 
 
 "Philadelphia, May 18. 
 
 " I write this chiefly because I know you will 
 look for frequent information respecting my health, 
 which was never better than at present. With re- 
 gard to the Conference, you would probably feel no 
 special interest in the acts we have passed since I 
 spoke of it, except, perhaps, a vote for making two 
 additional Bishops. Who they will be, we yet 
 know not. The expectation, however, is in favor 
 of brothers Andrew and Emory. I fear the speech- 
 making fever, which I hoped, but in vain, would 
 
328 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 subside as the Conference progressed, may protract 
 our session to the close of the month almost. If 
 any appointment should be urged upon me at this 
 General Conference, it may possibly be the editor- 
 ship of the Advocate. That, at least, is one which 
 I judge most important to the South, and to which 
 fewest objections on a personal account might be 
 made. You are not to expect I shall be put into 
 this editorship. Expect the reverse, and that old 
 Charleston, good old Charleston, will be our place 
 for awhile. It may occur, however, as a pos- 
 sible event, if it appear that we cannot get a suit- 
 able man, with kind feelings towards Southern 
 interests, that I may have to go to New York." 
 
 "Philadelphia, May 21. 
 
 "In my last, after telling you that you might 
 dismiss all apprehension of my being put into the 
 editorship at New York, I had to say that such a 
 disposition of me was not altogether impossible, 
 though I believed it altogether improbable. I have 
 all along maintained the course I had taken, to 
 keep myself aloof from any thing like a disposition 
 to seek, or a readiness to accept, any situation in 
 the election of the General Conference ; and still I 
 think I shall escape, and get back to my own dear 
 South Carolina as I came. But during to-day, 
 there has appeared a disposition to press me a 
 little, and I have had to say to our delegation from 
 South Carolina, that if they, who knew best how 
 to judge of the necessity, or otherwise, of my re- 
 
BISHOPS ANDREW AND EMORY. 
 
 829 
 
 maining in South. Carolina, thought, after due de- 
 liberation, that I might be more usefully employed 
 for the Church at New York, they might speak of 
 me as they judged proper. I do not expect to be 
 put into the place, and the less because I have not 
 been sooner put forward ; or, as I ought rather to 
 say, mj name has not been, for as to myself, I am, 
 and expect to be, wholly withdrawn from every 
 thing like a movement towards such a disposition 
 of myself." 
 
 "May 22. 
 
 "We have just finished the election for Bishops. 
 Brother Andrew and Dr. Emory are elected. The 
 number of votes was two hundred and seventeen, 
 making the majority one hundred and nine. 
 Andrew got one hundred and forty votes, and 
 Emory one hundred and thirty-five, on the first ballot, 
 and were thus handsomely elected at the first trial. 
 I think you need not be anxious about the editor- 
 ship." 
 
 Dr. Capers very fortunately escaped the honor 
 and responsibility of being made Editor of the 
 Christian Advocate and Journal. In his circum- 
 stances, and with his keen sensibilities, the post 
 would, in all likelihood, have been painfully un- 
 comfortable, aside altogether from the necessity of 
 a residence in a distant State. The unreserved ex- 
 pression of his opinions in regard to the matter, 
 presented in the foregoing confidential correspond- 
 
330 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 ence with his wife, shows the true nature of the man, 
 and sets in a fine light his scrupulous delicacy in 
 regard to office. 
 
 In September of this year. Dr. Paine, President 
 of LaGrange College, Alabama, in a letter inform- 
 ing Dr. Capers of the election of his son-in-law, 
 the Rev. W. II. Ellison, to a professorship in that 
 college, stated his own desire to leave the institu- 
 tion, in order to enter upon the more active duties 
 of the itinerant field. He added, however, that the 
 trustees were reluctant to release him unless they 
 could find one competent and willing to take the 
 presidency. He therefore applied to Dr. Capers to 
 know whether he could be prevailed on to accept 
 that post. To this application Dr. Capers yielded 
 at first a reluctant consent, stating that, whatever 
 his private views of his own fitness might be, he 
 would not hold himself absolved from the bidding 
 of the Church ; and that if the Presiding Bishop 
 at the next session of the South Carolina Confer- 
 ence should judge it best, for the general interests 
 of the Church, to sanction his acceptance of the 
 office, and transfer him to the Tennessee Confer- 
 ence, he would be ready to obey. A few weeks' 
 reflection on the subject, however, changed his 
 views. His embarrassment lay in his own appre- 
 hension of want of scholastic qualifications. "For 
 this cause," l^e says, "I must beg to decline the 
 appointment. Could I fulfil 6 in the South-west' 
 the part, or something like the part, of ' Dr. Fisk 
 in the North-east' — could I by accepting your call 
 
DECLINES PRESIDENCY OF COLLEGES. 331 
 
 build up the cause of Christian literature in that 
 interesting portion of our Church and country, 
 most gladly would I undertake it. But alas ! I 
 am not what you suppose me to be ; and were I to 
 attempt to stretch myself to the height of your kind 
 opinion, it would only result in extreme mortifica- 
 tion to both of us." 
 
 Similar applications were subsequently made to 
 him in regard to the Presidency of the University 
 of Louisiana, and that of Randolph Macon College, 
 Virginia ; but he declined in both instances. 
 
332 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Hospitality — Rev. John Hutchinson — The little mail-carrier and 
 the overcoat — Outlay of benevolence speedily returned and 
 doubled. 
 
 " Given to hospitality" — a lover of strangers — 
 this is one of the marks of a New Testament 
 Bishop. The virtue inculcated in these terms was 
 exercised by Dr. Capers, to the full extent of his 
 means. Scarcely a day went by without witness- 
 ing some accession to his family circle, at one or 
 other of the meals. The native bent of his disposi- 
 tion, his early domestic training, as well as his 
 prominent position in the Church, made his hospi- 
 tality a notable trait in his character. Preachers 
 from a distance, in quest of health, particularly if 
 they were supposed to be in narrow circumstances, 
 were welcome to his house, and made to feel per- 
 fectly at home, and entertained for weeks. In all 
 this, he was cordially seconded and sustained by 
 his wife — one of the most amiable of her sex, who 
 never seemed to regard for a moment any personal 
 trouble which might be entailed upon her by the 
 open-handed hospitalities of her husband. One out 
 of a multitude of instances illustrating this feature 
 
HOSPITALITY. 
 
 333 
 
 in the character of Dr. Capers, is furnished by the 
 Rev. H. A. C. Walker, one of his colleagues in 1833, 
 in the following incident : 
 
 "In the year 1833," says Mr. Walker, "I lived 
 in the family of Dr. Capers, in Charleston. In 
 the autumn of the year, the Rev. Mr. Parrish, of 
 one of the Northern Conferences, came to Dr. C.'s, 
 being on a Southern tour seeking relief from con- 
 sumption. He sojourned with us for ten days or a 
 fortnight, if I remember correctly, and was greatly 
 pleased, as well he might be. The Doctor had a 
 sort of half pony horse, which, in connection with 
 a gig and a saddle, had done good service in aiding 
 us in the preaching and pastoral work of the 
 station, through the summer especially. But the 
 year was drawing to a close, and as it was the 
 Doctor's second year in the city, and he could not 
 therefore be returned, he and his faithful ' Bill' 
 must part. It was known that he was for sale. A 
 purchaser appeared, and a fair offer was made. It 
 occurred to Mr. Parrish that on that horse he could 
 winder through the country as he pleased. He so 
 said to Dr. Capers, but his funds were low. 6 If he 
 will serve you,' said the Doctor, 4 you may have 
 horse, saddle, and bridle for forty dollars; and 
 I am only sorry I cannot afford to put him 
 lower still.' This was far below the value of the 
 horse. He was sold ; and the grateful invalid 
 mounted the trusty animal and set off. In my next 
 year's circuit, I heard of 'brother Parrish,' for he 
 had travelled and sojourned among the people, and 
 
334 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 of the ' great bargain brother Capers had given him 
 in that horse!' Mr. Parrish seemed to have told 
 it everywhere with grateful exultation. I heard 
 afterwards, that after much wandering, the horse 
 bore the preacher safe to his home. 
 
 "In the same year/ three young preachers came 
 from the North, bearing letters of introduction 
 from the immortal Fisk. Dr. Capers immediately 
 found quarters for two of them, and took the third 
 to be his own guest. He had room for no more, 
 and this one had to share my bed. He spent a 
 fortnight or so with us, before finding employment 
 as a teacher. One day at table, the Doctor's eldest 
 son, Frank, a bright, promising boy, then at the 
 Charleston College, and who has not belied that 
 promise, used the word 'beloved,' in a quotation, 
 I think, from Scripture. 'Beloved/ said his 
 father, correcting him. ' Why so, Dr. Capers?' 
 inquired the young scholar from New England. 
 'I think,' was the reply. ' there is a difference 
 between beloved as a participle, and as an adjec- 
 tive.' 'But,' continued the guest with the in- 
 quiring intonation, ' I do not remember any such 
 rule in the books.' 6 Nor do I,' said the Doctor, 
 ' and yet I can perceive a very marked distinction 
 mentally. I would say,' he added, 'John learned 
 his lesson well;' and then I would say, 'Dr. Fisk 
 is a learn-ed man.' 'I have no objection at all to 
 your distinction, Doctor ; I think I like it,' said Mr. 
 Round ; for the guest was the Rev. Gr. H. Bound, 
 since so well and so favorably known among us. 
 
THE REV. JOHN HUTCHINSON. 
 
 335 
 
 " The former anecdote illustrates Dr. Capers' s 
 generosity of character; the latter his exactness in 
 some, if not in all respects, in the use of words. 
 And yet he was far, very far removed from hyper- 
 criticism." 
 
 A few years before the time referred to by Mr. 
 "Walker, an interesting young minister from the 
 North, Hutchinson by name, received very touch- 
 ing proof of the disinterested kindness of Mr. 
 Capers and his family. Mr. Hutchinson was an 
 invalid, far gone indeed in consumption. He was 
 a lovely young man, destined to an early grave ; 
 and with scanty means was seeking the alleviations 
 of a Southern climate during cold weather. He 
 was welcomed into the house of Mr. Capers, and 
 enlisted the affectionate solicitude of parents, child- 
 ren, and even servants. He remained with the 
 family seven or eight months, and had a servant 
 boy to wait on him, and sleep at night in his 
 chamber. Far away from his own kindred, with 
 the blight of premature decay stealing over his 
 early prospects, Mr. Hutchinson received all the 
 attentions which his circumstances required ; and 
 by the example of a beautiful resignation, and deep 
 piety, and thankful spirit, showed that the kind- 
 ness was worthily bestowed. At the close of his 
 protracted stay, it was as if a member of the family 
 were bidding the last adieus. At the vessel which 
 was to carry him back to his native New England 
 hills, to lie in the burial-place of his kindred, the 
 boy, Strephon, who had waited upon him, burst 
 
336 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 into tears, as though about to lose his own young 
 master. 
 
 The story of John, the little postboy, is worthy 
 of being told in this connection, although the event 
 occurred in one of the earlier years of Mr. Capers's 
 ministry. At a country-inn, on one of his journeys, 
 Mr. Capers had stopped for the night, after a very 
 cold day's ride. After supper, he found a small 
 lad sitting by the fire, thinly clad, and with a look 
 of anxiety in his face. The proprietor of the house 
 presently said, u John, if I were you, I would not 
 go to-night." At these words the little fellow's 
 tears began to flow; and he replied, "Why did 
 you say so? you know I must go." Mr. Capers 
 asked what John's business was. He learned that 
 the boy was a mail-carrier, and had to take the 
 mail-bag twenty-one miles that night. He had no 
 other clothing than what he then wore, all of cotton 
 goods, and thin enough. The night was bitter, 
 and rain and sleet were then falling. Mr. Capers 
 told him that he must freeze to death if he per- 
 sisted in going ; and that if he would abandon the 
 attempt, his employer should be informed that he 
 had remained by the advice and persuasion of 
 friends. To this the little fellow, in tears, said, "I 
 must go : if I don't I shall lose my place, and then 
 my mother and sister will starve." Shortly after- 
 wards, the mail-carrier who brought the mail which 
 John was to take forward arrived. He came to 
 the fire, throwing off a large bear-skin overcoat 
 loaded with sleet ; and, with a profane expression, 
 
THE LITTLE MAIL- CARRIER. 837 
 
 declared that lie was frozen through. Mr. Capers 
 said to him, " Friend, if, with your overcoat on, you. 
 are nearly frozen, what will be the fate of this poor 
 boy, thinly clad as he is, who has to ride twenty-one 
 miles, and carry the mail you have brought ?" " He 
 will not live to get over the swamp that is just ahead, 
 and four miles wide," said he. Mr. Capers then 
 went to the landlady, to purchase a quilt or blanket 
 to cover John, who persisted that he must try to 
 go. She said she could spare nothing of the kind. 
 " Madam," said he, "let me have this half-worn 
 blanket for the child ; I will give you four dollars 
 for it." "No, sir," she said, "you will all find 
 before morning that I have no blanket to sell." 
 Returning to the fire, he said to the owner of the 
 overcoat, " Sir, will you sell me your overcoat for 
 this boy?" "Yes," said he, "if I can get cost for 
 it, eight dollars." The money was immediately 
 paid, and Mr. Capers handed the coat to the boy, 
 whose eyes instantly brightened. He put it on, 
 and soon set out on his dreary ride. This purchase 
 had exhausted Mr, Capers's money, and left him 
 only twenty-five cents. The next morning he took 
 formal leave of the family without asking for his 
 bill, determining to send back, as soon as he 
 arrived home, the amount usually charged for a 
 night's lodging. On the part of the host, nothing 
 was said about pay when he departed. The next 
 night he lodged with a Presbyterian family, with 
 whom he had no acquaintance. When the time 
 came for family worship, his host, impressed by 
 15 
 
838 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 his appearance and conversation that he was a 
 religious man, invited him to join them, and to 
 lead the devotional exercises. After prayers, he 
 inquired if the stranger were not a minister. Mr. 
 Capers told him who he was, and that he was 
 returning home after a year's work on the circuit 
 he had just travelled. Before breakfast the next 
 morning, he said to Mr. Capers: "Friend, we do 
 not belong to the same denomination of Christians. 
 You are a Methodist, and I am a Presbyterian. It 
 is, I dare say, with ministers of your denomination 
 as with ours. You at times stand in need of a 
 little money. "Will you please accept of this?" 
 handing him twenty dollars. On reaching home, 
 Mr. Capers enclosed a proper amount in a letter to 
 the tavern-keeper where he had met with the post- 
 boy, explaining the circumstances. The money, 
 however, was soon returned, on the ground that 
 they never charged preachers ; and he was requested 
 to call again whenever he passed that way. Thus 
 quickly and signally did he realize the truth of the 
 Divine word, " Give, and it shall be given unto 
 you, good measure." 
 
TROUBLES IN CHARLESTON. 
 
 339 
 
 CHAPTER Till. 
 
 Troubles in the Church in Charleston — Transferred to the Georgia 
 Conference and stationed at Savannah — Lewis Myers Delivers a 
 eulogy on Lafayette. 
 
 The close of the year 1833 was a period of anxi- 
 ety and trouble to Dr. Capers. The existing Board 
 of Trustees of the M. E. Church in Charleston, 
 of which he then had the pastoral charge, was 
 made up of old and tried members. But they 
 were exceedingly conservative in their ideas, and 
 were much inclined to adhere strenuously to the old 
 style of doing things, which was sufficiently slow. 
 A somewhat faster generation had come on, who 
 desired, with laudable zeal, to have an acceleration 
 in the speed of these elderly brethren in the man- 
 agement of the temporalities of the society. Old 
 Fogyism and Young America came into collision 
 at the Quarterly Meeting held August 30th. A set 
 of resolutions was introduced instructing the 
 trustees to make certain alterations in the sittings 
 of the church edifices. The trustees could not be 
 got together for an interview with the committee 
 of the Quarterly Conference. The latter party un- 
 dertook to force matters ; and soon there came up 
 
840 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM C A PEES. 
 
 a spirit of dogged resistance on the one part, and 
 an eager determination to succeed on the other. 
 There being no disciplinary mode of putting out 
 of office the trustees, who went jogging on in the 
 # old way, securely covered in their rights and privi- 
 leges by the existing law of the Church, the Young 
 America party rummaged about, and exhumed from 
 the dust and rubbish of near half a century an 
 act of incorporation, which had the singular quality 
 on its face of naming no individuals. There existed 
 no record of the names of even the persons who 
 applied for the charter. No particle of evidence 
 could be brought to show that the communicants 
 of the church in 1787 were the original members 
 of the corporation ; and even if that could have 
 been done, all the original corporators were long 
 since dead, without having perpetuated the corpo- 
 ration by a succession of officers and members, or 
 even, apart from the Board of Trustees, held a 
 single official meeting. The original charter had 
 consequently lapsed ; or at least the usage of the 
 Methodist society in Charleston from 1784 had 
 legalized the Board of Trustees, w T ho, in conformity 
 with the book of Discipline, had managed all the 
 property affairs of the Church, and supplied by 
 election from time to time the vacancies occurring. 
 
 Under cover of this act, now rescued from its 
 mouldering oblivion, a "corporation" meeting was 
 called, which passed sundry rules and by-laws, and 
 elected a Board of Trustees ; not by the first move 
 ousting the existing Board, but electing them as 
 
TROUBLES IN CHARLESTON. 
 
 341 
 
 its Board, and serving them with a notice that 
 fifteen days were allowed them to determine whether 
 they would serve or not, under the authority of the 
 soi-disant corporation. This meeting was held 
 November 12th, and was adjourned to meet on the 
 evening of the first Monday in December. The sur- 
 charged gun did no harm to the old Board, but its re- 
 coil was bad for the corporation cause. Matters, in 
 the opinion of the preacher in charge, had reached the 
 point of a revolutionary movement. He therefore 
 addressed to the leaders of the coup d'etat party a 
 letter of reproof, setting forth in several distinct 
 items the evidence of their being implicated in 
 " disobedience to the order and discipline of the 
 Church." The adjourned meeting was, neverthe- 
 less, held; the corporators elected nine of their 
 own party a Board of Trustees, and twenty-five 
 others an Executive Committee. On the 7th of 
 December Dr. Capers took one of his colleagues 
 with him, the Rev. H. A. C. Walker, and saw and 
 conversed with nine of the refractory members, 
 who had been previously addressed by him in 
 writing. When they had severally refused to re- 
 linquish their participation in the measures and 
 acts complained of, each one was served with a 
 citation to trial, upon the charge of " disobedience 
 to the order and discipline of the Church," followed 
 by five specifications. The parties then demanded 
 to be tried by the society. This privilege was not 
 granted, on the ground of the invariable practice 
 in the Charleston Methodist Society, and as being 
 
342 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 a precedent of evil tendency in circumstances such 
 as then surrounded the case. The trial was an- 
 nounced to be held December 9th. On the day 
 previous, Sunday, it occurred to Dr. Capers, his 
 mind being in great distress, that he would, as a 
 last resort, try the force of a personal appeal. Ac- 
 cordingly at night, by his request, he was met by 
 the gentlemen whose trial was to be held the next 
 day; and after a touching appeal, not unmingled 
 with tears, to their sense of religious feeling, he 
 proposed for their signature a paper he had drawn 
 up, which stated that, in kindness to the opinions 
 and feelings of the ministry and brethren, they 
 agreed that the proceedings of the two corporation 
 meetings should be as if they had never taken 
 place, provided that the records of the Church, 
 deeds of conveyance, and the like, should be sub- 
 mitted to the Judges of the Court of Appeals for 
 their decision as to the question of the existence 
 of a corporation, and in whom it vested if it did 
 exist. To this paper all present, twenty-two in 
 number, put their signatures, and the citation to 
 trial was withdrawn. 
 
 This promising adjustment came to nothing. 
 Dr. Capers left Charleston December 31, to attend 
 the session of the Georgia Conference. On his 
 return, January 23d, 1834, he was waited on by 
 several of the signers of the paper aforementioned, 
 and informed that they considered themselves re- 
 leased from the obligation 'of their signatures, on 
 the ground that they were satisfied that the refer- 
 
SUPERINTENDENT OF MISSIONS. 343 
 
 ence to the Judges was impracticable. This he 
 heard with deep regret ; but as the term of his ad- 
 ministration was now closing, he informed them 
 that he could have no more to do with the affair, 
 but must leave it in the hands of his successor. 
 The session of the South Carolina Conference was 
 held in Charleston a few days afterwards, Bishop 
 Emory presiding. After an unavailing effort on 
 the part of that eminent man to adjust the diffi- 
 culty, affairs reached their crisis in the course of 
 the ensuing summer; and eight of the leading 
 members of the corporation party were cited to 
 trial, and expelled from the communion according 
 to the forms of the book of Discipline, notwith- 
 standing a large number of their friends had 
 pledged themselves to leave the Church in the 
 event of their expulsion. The whole case fur- 
 nishes a monitory lesson against attempting to go 
 too fast ; and a lesson equally monitory against the 
 stand-still policy. 
 
 Early in the year 1834, Dr. Capers was trans- 
 ferred to the Georgia Conference, and stationed in 
 Savannah. In connection with this appointment 
 he was made Superintendent of the missions to the 
 blacks, near Savannah, and on the neighboring 
 islands. Bishop Emory, who presided at the ses- 
 sions of the Georgia and South Carolina Confer- 
 ences, specially and earnestly requested Dr. Capers 
 to take the superintendence of these missions, 
 although he was aware that such an arrangement 
 would add considerably to the labors of his station. 
 
344 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 lie felt it to be important, at tliat stage of these 
 missions, to have the supervision of them intrusted 
 to one known extensively and favorably to the 
 planters on Savannah and Ogeechee rivers. Dr. 
 Capers cheerfully accepted these increased respon- 
 sibilities. His interest in the missionary work 
 never flagged ; and his influence was highly valu- 
 able. The writer of these memoirs had the plea- 
 sure, during a visit to Savannah in the spring of 
 that year, to accompany Dr. Capers on one of his 
 missionary visitations, and to witness the cordial 
 welcome tendered him by the planters. It was 
 hard to say which was the more to be admired — 
 the affability with which he condescended to "men 
 of low estate" in his intercourse with the planta- 
 tion slaves to whom he preached, or the elegance 
 of his manners and conversation in circles of the 
 highest refinement and intelligence. 
 
 What sort of preaching he deemed most suitable 
 for plantation negroes, can best be described in his 
 own words: "It should be preaching ; not a dry 
 lecturing on morals merely — much less a paraded 
 speech of long and high-sounding words. Ser- 
 mons should be short, and, of course, full of 
 unction. As for the texts, all are yours. I know 
 of but one gospel for all people. But we find it 
 impracticable to hold preaching-meetings on our 
 missions on the week-days. Although in the low- 
 country, the main field of our missions, the labor 
 of the plantation is assigned to the hands by daily 
 tasks, and the tasks are done by two or three 
 
LEWIS MYERS. 
 
 845 
 
 o'clock in the afternoon in the summer months, 
 and before sunset in the winter, the negroes move 
 heavily to preaching; unless you would have it 
 at midnight, when they are wide awake, and you 
 might fall asleep yourself. Meetings for cate- 
 chism, or even class-meetings, can be held in the 
 week, but for preaching, I know no time but the 
 Sabbath, unless they might attend wakeful ly at 
 the break of day, which I never tried. Great 
 patience is requisite with these people. They 
 must be allowed to be themselves. If, indeed, they 
 have taken a dream to be conversion, or any thing 
 appears inconsistent with sound belief and vital 
 godliness, it must be corrected forthwith, but with 
 meekness of wisdom, and in the spirit of love. But 
 with respect to their modes of expressing pious 
 emotion, hold them not to a rule which they may 
 deem unnatural. Why should the tastes and habits 
 of refined life be made to bear as a law upon the 
 negro ? No one thinks of it in respect to other 
 things. No : a shout that comes with a kindled 
 countenance and flowing tears, is never to be an 
 offence to a negro missionary." 
 
 The writer accompanied Dr. Capers also on a 
 visit to his venerable friend, Lewis Myers, whose 
 residence was at Goshen, in Effingham county, 
 sixteen miles from Savannah. This patriarchal 
 man, some eight or ten years previously, had be- 
 come superannuated, after an effective ministry of 
 a quarter of a century ; a large portion of which 
 time he filled the office of Presiding Elder. He 
 
346 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 was of German extraction, and had the Dutch 
 sturdiness of build and common-sense. His early 
 advantages had been small ; but his religion had 
 made a man of him. His native shrewdness of 
 mind had been cultivated by a good deal of read- 
 ing, and much close study of the Bible, with much 
 observation of human nature. There was, withal, 
 ^a subdued vein of humor running through him ; a 
 little quaintness that made his society piquant; 
 and a remarkable gentleness and sweetness play- 
 ing round what looked like the austerity of fixed 
 and severe habits of personal virtue. You would 
 hardly expect such a man to show much emotion; 
 yet he seldom preached to the close of a sermon 
 without tears. He had preached the gospel in 
 nearly every part of the low country of South 
 Carolina and Georgia; and had gone abreast with 
 such men as Tobias Gibson, Britton Capel, and 
 James Russell : preached it in the dialect of the 
 common people, and to the strong, hard sense of 
 the common people, who know how to digest the 
 pith of an argument nearly as well as the meta- 
 physicians : preached it when the population was 
 sparse, churches few, and travelling vastly fatigu- 
 ing ; and so preached it as to leave great and 
 fruitful results behind. He belonged to a class of 
 men of heroic mould, who could take the saddle, 
 face a day's hard rain, swim swollen creeks, live 
 in the cabins of the poor, eat bear-meat if neces- 
 sary, and preach without manuscript every day of 
 
EULOGY ON LAFAYETTE. 
 
 347 
 
 the week ; who went girded into the great battle- 
 field where ignorance, vice, and semi-barbarism 
 were to be confronted, and fought a good, honest 
 fight, very different from the sham-battles of holi- 
 day heroes. Mr. Myers had been a man of weight 
 in the Conference, well versed in affairs, of sound 
 judgment, and looked up to with universal re- 
 spect. Two things are worthy of note in his 
 character: he was a man of few words, well 
 weighed, and to the point, and he knew when Vie 
 was done, and where to stop ; and he knew also how 
 to decrease — to pass gracefully off the stage, and 
 resign to younger men, without regret or croaking, 
 the working of a system with which his strongest 
 and best years had been identified. Dr. Capers 
 held him in high respect for his past services to 
 the Church and country, and for the purity and 
 unaffected dignity of his Christian character. He 
 died in November, 1851 ; and as one of the fathers 
 of Southern Methodism, he has left an honored 
 memory. 
 
 In July, Dr. Capers received a communication 
 from the Mayor of Savannah, enclosing the follow- 
 ing resolutions passed by the City Council : 
 
 "In Council, July 1, 1834. 
 
 "Resolved, That this Board have received the 
 melancholy tidings of the decease of the venerable 
 Lafayette with sensations of deep sorrow : that the 
 event, though one to have been anticipated from his 
 
848 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 advanced years, is nevertheless deplored as the loss 
 of one of the last of those luminaries which led us 
 to -liberty and the blessings we now enjoy. 
 
 "Resolved, That it be recommended to the 
 citizens of Savannah to do the last honors to his 
 memory, by a civic and military procession, and by 
 religious services, on a day to be named by the 
 Mayor. That the Rev. the clergy of all denomi- 
 nations be requested to unite in these services ; 
 and that the Rev. Dr. Capers, the son of a Revolu- 
 tionary soldier, be requested to pronounce an 
 eulogium to his well-known merits." 
 
 To this request Dr. Capers acceded, performing 
 the service required to the gratification of the entire 
 community. Some, indeed, of the most admirable 
 of his pulpit efforts were those produced under 
 the influence of occasions, — and designed to show 
 the hand of God, to vindicate his ways, or illustrate 
 his providence in important passing events. He 
 always made these occasions tributary to the 
 spiritual welfare of his congregation, not their 
 entertainment merely. He sacrificed neither good 
 taste nor devotional feeling in handling subjects 
 of this class : under his treatment they suggested 
 topics of discourse which gave fresh force to 
 admitted truths, and unwonted power to familiar 
 ideas. 
 
 The interest felt by Dr. Capers in the welfare 
 and improvement of young ministers, deserves 
 mention. He was fond of repeating a saying of 
 Bishop Asbury, " Our boys are men" Affable and 
 
LETTER TO THE REV. A. W. WALKER. 349 
 
 always accessible to his young friends, his coun- 
 sels and advices were ever at their service ; and 
 his words of encouragement often came as a balm 
 upon , the spirit cast down and well-nigh dismayed 
 by the conscious want of qualification for the 
 solemn responsibilities of the ministerial office. 
 The following letter was written in the autumn of 
 1834, to the Rev. A. W. "Walker, then travelling his 
 first circuit. It furnishes a fine illustration of 
 warmth of affection, tenderness of spirit, and wis- 
 dom of counsel. It may be read with great profit 
 by every young preacher who wishes to make 
 "full proof of his ministry." 
 
 "My dear Alexander: — I thank you for your 
 very kind and affectionate letter of the 7th ult. 
 You might doubt your having any thing to do 
 with the duties of the ministry, if you could enter 
 upon them without fear and trembling, or make 
 any considerable trial of the work of an evangelist 
 without much misgiving and an humbling sense of 
 your insufficiency. Never forget that our adorable 
 Lord and Master was led up into the wilderness to 
 be tempted of the* devil — certainly not for his own 
 sake, as though such a preparation could be neces- 
 sary to prove him and qualify him for the work of 
 preaching the gospel ; but for our sakes, and for the 
 sake of all w^ho should become his ambassadors, 
 that it might be example and evidence to them, to 
 its, of what is proper to the experience of those 
 Avho are put as if in his stead, to plead with sinners 
 
850 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 to be reconciled to God. The conflicts connected 
 with your work, form an indispensable part of the 
 qualification necessary to its acceptable and effect- 
 ual performance. The more you are assaulted by 
 Satan, the more will your profiting appear, if you 
 cleave to Christ in faith and prayer. He overcame 
 for us, that we might overcome by him. 
 
 "It is good for you to cherish a high and sacred 
 sense of the dignity and responsibility of your 
 calling, and humbling views of your personal fit- 
 ness for so great a work. But how is this good for 
 you ? Certainly not if you give way to despond- 
 ency, as though something were required of you 
 impossible to be done ; but it is good for you, as it 
 is calculated to and shall cause you to trust in the 
 living God ; while you give yourself to study and 
 prayer, sobriety and watching, that he who alone 
 is able to make you a fit instrument in his work, 
 may use you, even you, to glorify his name in the 
 conversion of many. You cannot doubt but if 
 God will use you, you shall be useful. Any thing, 
 that shall please him, may work miracles ; and 
 without his immediate blessing, Paul or Apollos 
 were as insignificant as the most unworthy prattlers. 
 You find yourself deficient in knowledge ? It 
 would be melancholy, at your age, if you did not. 
 You must feel your deficiency now, and that to 
 such a degree as shall make you diligent to im- 
 prove your time in study, or you will feel it by and 
 by, when it will be too late to make any much 
 advantage of it. But, I beseech you, suffer no sens$ 
 
LETTER TO THE REV. A. W. WALKER. 351 
 
 of deficiency in knowledge of any kind to influ- 
 ence you further than to redeem your time for 
 improvement. If you will do this steadily and 
 perseveringly, you shall find your account in it ; 
 and by uniting study, and preaching, and other 
 exercises of your sacred functions, your profiting 
 shall appear to all men ; yea, you shall become an 
 able minister of the New Testament, and that 
 before many years. The Methodist itinerancy 
 affords a sort of manual-labor school for preachers, 
 the very best to qualify them for their w^ork if they 
 will use it well. The best way to learn to preach is 
 in the practice of preaching. 
 
 " Carry all your discouragements, difficulties, 
 troubles, to God, and go to him with them expect- 
 ing the help which you ask. You will scarcely 
 find it profitable, either to yourself or others, to 
 say much, or indeed any thing, about them to the 
 people among whom you labor. To a confidential 
 friend, especially if he is himself experienced in 
 the trials of the ministry, our ministry^ you may 
 open your mind to profit, when occasion serves. 
 
 "May God bless you, my dear brother, and 
 keep you faithful and approved in all things. 
 "Your very sincere friend and brother, 
 
 "W. Capers. 
 
 "P. S.- — You are always prudent in your inter- 
 course with females. You cannot be too much so." 
 
352 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 CHAP TEE IX. 
 
 Removal to Columbia — Accepts the Professorship of Moral and 
 Intellectual Philosophy in the South Carolina College — Reasons 
 for an early resignation — Denominational education. 
 
 Having finished his year of pastoral service in 
 Savannah, Dr. Capers was transferred by the pre- 
 siding Bishop to South Carolina, and connected 
 with the station of Columbia, the Rev. Malcom 
 McPherson being preacher in charge. The object 
 of this arrangement was to meet a very general 
 wish on the part of his clerical brethren, and of 
 the public generally, that he should take a post in 
 the State College. The fortunes of the institution 
 had waned under the administration of Dr. Cooper, 
 and public opinion demanded the inauguration of 
 different principles at this seat of learning on which 
 the treasure of the State had been lavished without 
 stint. It was thought that Dr. Capers might be 
 instrumental in bringing about a turn in the tide, 
 and restoring the college to the position it had lost 
 in the public confidence. Negotiations had been 
 opened with him by a committee of the trustees, 
 empowered for the purpose of supplying the chair 
 of Moral and Intellectual Philosophy and Evidences 
 of Christianity, until the regular meeting of the 
 
PROFESSOR IN S. C. COLLEGE. 353 
 
 Board. So far as mere feeling and inclination 
 went, Dr. Capers would have much preferred an 
 arrangement contemplated by the Bishop, which 
 looked to his taking the superintendence of the 
 colored missions. But it was always a principle 
 with him to hold private preferences and personal 
 feeling subordinate to the judgment of his brethren, 
 so far as public service was concerned. Being 
 urged to take the Professorship, he submitted the 
 question to the judgment of the Conference. 
 Bishop Andrew, whose opinions on the subject of 
 Christian education have always been sound and 
 far-seeing, took occasion to say, that in view of his 
 being appointed, at some short time to come, 
 President of the college, as was then anticipated, 
 he thought Dr. Capers ought to accept the place 
 now offered him ; but added, that he doubted if 
 the Church ought to give up her claim upon his 
 labors for any subordinate appointment. The Con- 
 ference then unanimously voted its advice in 
 accordance with the views thus expressed ; and he 
 accepted forthwith the Professorship. 
 
 Removing his family to the campus, he entered 
 upon his scholastic duties. Early in June the 
 trustees met; but instead of electing him Presi- 
 dent, as had been anticipated, they created a new 
 professorship— that of the Evidences of Christiani- 
 ty and Sacred Literature — and made it the duty of 
 the officer holding that chair to perform Divine ser- 
 vice in the college chapel; requesting the othei 
 professors to make arrangements for instructing in 
 
854 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Moral and Intellectual Philosophy until a President 
 should be elected. This appointment Dr. Capers 
 felt himself constrained to decline. In his letter 
 signifying this intention to the Board of Trustees, 
 he reminds them that he had never solicited any 
 appointment in the college, but at any time had 
 only been willing to take a part in establishing the 
 college on such principles as might make it a desir- 
 able place for the sons of Christian parents gen- 
 erally, or otherwise no part in it on any account 
 whatever ; that he had perceived indications, both 
 as to the Presidency and the organization of the 
 college, calculated to discourage the hope that reli- 
 gious principles were intended to have a controlling 
 influence in the establishment; that the duties 
 assigned him in the recent appointment amounted 
 to little else than a chaplaincy ; and that the bare 
 title of professor could scarcely be expected to 
 shield him from the possible obloquy of being con- 
 sidered only as "a hired, paid, and salaried priest." 
 In view, therefore, of the only moving considera- 
 tion for his coming into the college, and under a 
 sense of heavy public responsibility, he begged 
 respectfully to decline the appointment. 
 
 These were good and sufficient reasons. There 
 is no likelihood that the trustees meant any thing 
 but what was entirely respectful to him ; and cer- 
 tainly, by putting the pulpit of the chapel into his 
 hands exclusively, they placed at his command a 
 powerful agency for moulding the religious senti- 
 ments of the foremost young men of the country. 
 
REASONS FOR RESIGNING. 
 
 355 
 
 He was told the day after the meeting of the Board, 
 by one of its members, in a somewhat facetious 
 way, that they had elected him " professor of reli- 
 gion ! ' ' He had, it must be confessed, some grounds 
 for the apprehension that the appointment of a 
 preacher to do the praying and other parts of 
 Divine service for the college, was considered a 
 sufficient concession to the demands of Christian 
 opinion in the State. If he had been satisfied that 
 a cordial, sustained, religious cooperation could 
 have been reasonably anticipated on the part of his 
 colleagues in the faculty, he might, perhaps, have 
 hesitated as to the question of duty. Most likely 
 he would have retained his connection with the 
 college. For the first time the religious com- 
 munion of which he was a minister had now a 
 representative in the Board of Instruction in an 
 institution which, in proportion to their number 
 and means, they were compelled to support. To a 
 man of his breadth of view, it must have appeared 
 that a monopoly of liberal education in the hands 
 of the other leading sects of the State, to the ex- 
 clusion of his own, tended, by a silent but irresist- 
 ible influence, to consign the excluded denomina- 
 tion to ignorance and obscurity. To such a policy, 
 whatever may have occasioned it, he must have 
 been opposed, on the grounds alike of social equal- 
 ity, civil liberty, and religious principle. But, on 
 the other hand, the presiding officer of the Annual 
 Conference had expressed, without reserve, the 
 opinion that Dr. Capers could not be spared for 
 
356 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 any lower permanent post than the Presidency; 
 and in this pronounced opinion the Conference had 
 coincided. Besides, his age and public position 
 required, at the very least, that it should be known 
 to him who was to be honored with that appoint- 
 ment. The choice might fall upon a layman distin- 
 guished, indeed, for learning, but an enemy at 
 heart to all vital Christianity. With susceptible 
 young men, one sneer from such a man would be 
 sufficient to neutralize the effect of a dozen ser- 
 mons from the chaplain. And, in fine, to his high 
 and scrupulous sense of delicacy, any liability to 
 the imputation of mercenary motives in the exer- 
 cise of his ministry was abhorrent. The late Pres- 
 ident had voluntarily exonerated Methodist min- 
 isters from the sweeping charges he had flung from 
 his terrible pen against the clergy. And now, was 
 a Methodist minister, standing at the head of the 
 Methodist denomination in South Carolina, to be 
 the first to illustrate, within the very halls wdiieh 
 had resounded with the echoes of the invective, 
 the supposed frailty of the whole class ? 
 
 His resignation lost to the Methodist Church the 
 incalculable benefit which his pulpit ministrations 
 and professional teachings would have conferred 
 upon many of her sons. The Protestant Episco- 
 palians, the Presbyterians, and the Baptists have in 
 turn been represented in the chapel ministrations 
 of the South Carolina College ; the Methodist 
 Church has not. Nor has there ever been a Method- 
 ist layman — although there are numbers in the 
 
DENOMINATIONAL COLLEGES. 357 
 
 State fully qualified to serve — allowed to sit in the 
 Board of Trustees. And it is a curious coinci- 
 dence, that at the very time when, at length, the 
 Methodist Church in South Carolina was to have a 
 college of her own, the President of the State Col- 
 lege, a Presbyterian minister, alike eminent for 
 ability and influence, published a letter to the 
 Governor of South Carolina against denominational 
 colleges. The most admirable feature in the whole 
 affair has been the profound resignation and pious 
 freedom from resentment which has marked the 
 contented spirit of the denomination thus ignored 
 and thrust aside. 
 
 But the subject is too serious for levity. "I 
 could write down the names," said Dr. Olin in 
 1844, " of scores of educated men, in every part of 
 the land — many of them eminent for the great 
 talents and learning with which they adorn the 
 highest stations in Church and State — the sons of 
 Methodist parents, and the rightful heritage of 
 Methodism, who were lost to the denomination, 
 and not a few of them to Christianity, by being ex- 
 posed to alien influences at the theatre of their 
 literary training. I have been curious in collecting 
 this sort of statistics. My observations and in- 
 quiries have extended more or less to the larger 
 half of the United States, and I give it as the prox- 
 imate result of these investigations, that a large 
 majority of Methodist young men — not less, I think, 
 than three-fourths of all who have been educated in 
 colleges not under our own direction — have been lost 
 
358 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 to our cause. Many of them have gone to other 
 denominations, many more have gone to the world. 
 All were the legitimate children of the Church. 
 They were her hope, and they should have become 
 the crown of her rejoicing. But for her own 
 grievous neglect to provide for the nurture of the 
 sons whom God gave her, many of these had now 
 been standard-bearers in her battles, and shining 
 lights in her firmament. My heart sickens at such 
 contemplations of the past, and I fervently pray 
 that God may save us from similar folly and humili- 
 ation in years to come." 
 
 It was the avowed sentiment of Dr. Capers, that 
 "he who is not zealous for religion in that form of 
 it which he most approves, can illy pretend to be 
 zealous for it in some other form." He was, con- 
 sequently, a decided Methodist, though at the farthest 
 possible remove from the bigotry which considers 
 its own modification of Christianity to comprehend 
 all of it that is trustworthy in the world. Richard 
 "Watson prefixed to his autograph in Dr. Capers's 
 album, at the London Conference, the following 
 beautiful dictum : " The two great pillars on which 
 the system of Wesleyan Methodism rests, are uni- 
 versal love and universal holiness.''' No teacher or 
 disciple of the Wesleyan school believed this more 
 fully than Dr. Capers. But the catholic feeling 
 harmonized fully with the firm and intelligent ad- 
 herence to denominational peculiarities. He could 
 not, therefore, be insensible to the important 
 claims of education under the control of his own 
 
METHODIST EDUCATION. 
 
 359 
 
 communion. We have seen in what point of view 
 he regarded the influence of Dr. Fisk, in the North- 
 east, in this department of public service. With- 
 out considering himself to possess the peculiar apti- 
 tudes of taste and scholarly daily habit which make 
 a man an accomplished instructor, and with a cleri- 
 cal training in the itinerant field for twenty-five 
 years, such as made the action, freedom, variety, 
 and triumphs of that field the delight and home of 
 his heart, he had, nevertheless, upon the compul- 
 sion of a sense of duty, yielded all his private 
 preferences, and taken a chair in a literary institu- 
 tion. And wherefore ? Because the convictions 
 of his maturest judgment satisfied him that religion 
 is the saving salt of education; and that the cir- 
 cumstances of his native State required impera- 
 tively that at least he should make an effort in that 
 direction. The embarrassments he encountered 
 have been adverted to. 
 
 The prevalence of such convictions in connec- 
 tion with the confessed difficulties and delicacies 
 presented by the very constitution of colleges sup- 
 ported by the State, has led to the establishment 
 of denominational institutions. The Address of 
 the Bishops to the General Conference of 1850, in 
 language eloquent and forcible, sets forth the views 
 of the ablest minds in the Methodist Church on 
 this subject. They say: " Our Church has long 
 since made its decision in favor of this important 
 adjunct (education) to the work of enlightening 
 and converting the world. If we would exert our 
 
860 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 proper share of influence in directing the move- 
 ments of mind and heart in this stirring age, we 
 must connect Methodism with whatever is true and 
 valuable, pure and beautiful, in science and letters ; 
 and our children must identify the scriptural doc- 
 trines and the well-tried and time-honored institu- 
 tions of the Church of their fathers with the recol- 
 lections and associations, not only of the Sabbath- 
 school room, but also of the halls of learning, and 
 whatever is erudite and polished or eloquent in 
 the utterance of professional instruction. Our 
 aim is not merely to render Methodism respectable 
 by associating it with profound scholarship, but 
 mainly to imbue this scholarship with the prin- 
 ciples and spirit of a pure and hallowed Chris- 
 tianity." 
 
 To do this effectually, the faculty of instruction 
 must find a representative and utter a voice in the 
 chapel pulpit. The President, if he is, as he should 
 be, a member of an Annual Conference, is the con- 
 necting link between that body and the college ; 
 between the pulpit and the students. It is a de- 
 plorably shallow philosophy, or common sense 
 either, which conceives of the congregation of 
 students addressed by an officer, in the character 
 of a gospel preacher, as a parcel of youngsters who 
 had as well be anywhere else, so far as profit or 
 effective influence is concerned, as in a college 
 chapel. These young men are, many of them, to 
 form your future travelling preachers, your class- 
 leaders and trustees, as well as teachers, statesmen, 
 
DR. FISK'S PREACHING. 
 
 361 
 
 agriculturists, doctors, and lawyers. They are at 
 the most impressible period of human life. They 
 can be made, and are made, to feel the power of 
 Christian truth. From no human lips will they 
 listen to it with deeper reverence than from the 
 lips of an admired, beloved professor, who also dis- 
 courses to them on literary subjects in the recita- 
 tion-room. ISTo year passes without some college 
 revival, that can be traced to sources like these. 
 Dr. Fisk's biographer, in describing the preaching 
 of that gifted man in the chapel of the "Wesleyan 
 University, says, that after one of these displays of 
 powerful Christian oratory, a lady of cultivated 
 mind — a stranger in the place — as she came away 
 said to another, with a half-stifled voice, "Have 
 you any irreligious students in your college?" and 
 on being answered in the affirmative, added, "As- 
 tonishing !" 
 
 16 
 
362 
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Lays the corner-stone of the Cokesbury School — George Holloway — 
 Visits Georgia — Stationed in Charleston — Congregational sing- 
 ing — Appointed Editor of the Southern Christian Advocate- 
 Great fire in Charleston — Collections for rebuilding the churches 
 —Centenary of Methodism. 
 
 In the course of the summer of 1835, Dr. Capers 
 went to Abbeville District^ and, by invitation of 
 the Board of Trustees of the Cokesbury School, 
 delivered an address at the laying of the corner- 
 stone of the principal building. This institution, 
 which is under the control of the South Carolina 
 Conference, has had an eminently useful and popu- 
 lar career. Among its rectors stand the names of 
 instructors of high reputation in their profession. 
 The munificence of Mr. George Holloway, a Me- 
 thodist gentleman of comfortable property, who 
 died, leaving no children, has given an endowment 
 to the school, which secures the education and 
 board of eight or ten sons of ministers of the 
 South Carolina Conference, the preference being 
 given to the sons of deceased or superannuated 
 preachers. A long line of useful results will hand 
 down' to posterity his honored name as a public 
 benefactor. 
 
CONGREGATIONAL SINGING. 
 
 363 
 
 In the latter part of the year, Dr. Capers paid a 
 visit to Georgia, spending a little time with his 
 attached friends, Dr. Branham, of Eatonton, and 
 Mr. Foard, of Milledgeville. At the session of the 
 Conference in the winter, he was appointed to 
 Charleston, preacher in charge, his colleagues be- 
 ing Messrs. J. Sewell, McColl, and Gamewell. 
 This was one of his most efficient and successful 
 years in the pastoral work. His preaching was 
 full of unction ; a gracious influence went along 
 with it ; and the membership among the whites in- 
 creased full thirty per cent. 
 
 A peculiarity in Dr. Capers's pulpit ministra- 
 tions may here be noted. His invariable habit 
 w^as to raise the tunes himself, to the hymns he 
 used in Divine worship. He had a fine voice, 
 clear, musical, and cultivated. One of Charles 
 "Wesley's immortal hymns, on his lips, as the leader 
 of some fifteen hundred voices — half of them voices 
 of the blacks in the crowded galleries — sung to one 
 of the old congregational melodies, with no re- 
 straints of false refinement, has many a time car- 
 ried the assembly to heaven's gate. The fervor 
 and fire of the primitive singing were never sacri- 
 ficed by him to the conventionalities of choir-sing- 
 ing, where a half-dozen voices perform for the 
 mute congregation. He never praised God vica- 
 riously. He never encouraged his congregation to 
 do by proxy this part of their duty. He would 
 have enjoyed the smack of the following bit of racy 
 sarcasm recently let off by a somewhat eccentric 
 
804 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Congregational minister at the North, who thus 
 describes his feelings while attending Divine ser- 
 vice at a Methodist church : " The patient congre- 
 gation stood up meekly to be sung to, as men stand 
 under rain where there is no shelter. Scarcely a lip 
 moved. No one seemed to hear the hymn, or to 
 care for the music. How I longed for the good old 
 Methodist thunder ! One good burst of old- 
 fashioned music would have blown this modem 
 singing out of the windows, like wadding from a 
 gun ! Men may call this an improvement, and 
 genteel ! Gentility has nearly killed our churches, 
 and it will kill Methodist churches, if they give 
 way to its false and pernicious ambition. We know 
 very well what good old-fashioned Methodist music 
 was. It had faults enough, doubtless, against 
 taste, but it had an inward purpose and a religious ear- 
 nestness which enabled it to carry all its faults, and 
 to triumph in spite of them ! It was worship. Yes- 
 terday's music was tolerable singing, but very poor 
 worship. We are sorry that just as our churches 
 are beginning to imitate the former example of 
 Methodist churches, and to introduce melodies that 
 the people love, and to encourage universal sing- 
 ing in the congregation, our Methodist brethren 
 should pick up our cast-off formalism in church 
 music. It will be worse with them. It will mark 
 a greater length of decline." 
 
 In May, 1836, Dr. Capers attended the session of 
 the General Conference, held at Cincinnati. The 
 principal interest which attaches to this session is 
 
SOUTHERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE. 365 
 
 found in the action of the delegates from the 
 various Annual Conferences on the subject of 
 abolitionism. The position of the Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church on that question was defined in the 
 following resolution, adopted by a vote of one 
 hundred and twenty in favor, and fourteen against: 
 
 "Resolved, That they (the delegates of the An- 
 nual Conferences) are decidedly opposed to modern 
 abolitionism, and wholly disclaim any right, wish, 
 or intention to interfere in the civil and political 
 relation between master and slave, as it exists in 
 the slaveholding States of this Union." 
 
 To modern researches, this is doubtless a pro- 
 foundly mythical passage in the history of a Church 
 which is now with cool effrontery pronounced at 
 the North to have been always abolitionist to the 
 backbone. 
 
 Resolutions were also passed, authorizing the 
 publication of a weekly religious journal at Charles- 
 ton, called the Southern Christian Advocate, of 
 which Dr. Capers was elected editor. The lapse 
 of ten years had shown that a great central organ 
 at New York, however ably conducted, could not 
 supersede the home demand for presses in distant 
 but influential portions of the Connection. Besides, 
 a very general feeling had begun to pervade the 
 Southern States, hostile to the circulation of 
 Northern newspapers, religious as well as secular. 
 Many of these were preaching up a crusade against 
 the domestic institutions of the South; and self- 
 defence as well as self-respect demanded that 
 
366 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 there should be an' adequate supply of Southern 
 journals. 
 
 The first number of the Southern Christian 
 Advocate was published June 21st, 1837. Dr. 
 Capers found himself a second time afloat on the 
 troubled waters of editorial life. Although he con- 
 tinued to preach every Sunday, yet he was relieved of 
 the cares of the pastoral work. He had no printing- 
 office : the paper was printed by a publishing house, 
 by the job; and the editor acted as his own clerk 
 in keeping the accounts. There was a good deal 
 of petty drudgery involved, that wasted time and 
 tried the temper. Supplies of cash would some- 
 times run short at the close of the week. Mistakes 
 would occasionally get into the mail-books. His 
 constitutional sensitiveness would be touched at 
 this and the other points ; and then he would write 
 with too sharp a quill. In a word, journalism did 
 not suit the genius of the man. A sense of duty 
 carried him along ; but he could hardly bring him- 
 self up to the full appreciation of the importance 
 and wide-reaching influence of the vocation. He 
 lacked enthusiasm and inspiration. He did not 
 warm to a work which was not to him a labor of 
 love. He fought up bravely, however, against all 
 discouragements until the corning on of the ensu- 
 ing General Conference, and then gave up journal- 
 ism for ever. He said that editorship had been 
 "a furnace of insufferable fires" to him. 46 How 
 could I be willing to pass what of life remains to 
 me, in the perpetual irritations of the last three 
 
FIRE IN CHARLESTON, 
 
 367 
 
 years ? I would rather wander through the earth 
 on foot, preaching Christ, than be the editor of a 
 religious newspaper." The Southern Christian 
 Advocate was, nevertheless, a very observable im- 
 provement on the "Wesleyan Journal. His edito- 
 rials were much more elaborate, his selections 
 more varied and adapted to the popular taste. He 
 stood up firmly for the rights of his section in the 
 ecclesiastical connection. He was earnest and 
 high-minded in his advocacy of all the great 
 measures subsidiary to the spread of Christian 
 influence — educational, missionary, and literary. 
 For complete success, however, his editorial writ- 
 ing lacked dramatic and pictorial power, was a 
 trifle too polemical, and often showed that the pen 
 moved "invita Minerva." 
 
 Late in April, 1838, a disastrous fire took place 
 in Charleston. It laid in ruins the richest and 
 most populous part of the city, destroying three 
 millions of property. The glare of the conflagra- 
 tion was seen eighty miles at sea, and the explo- 
 sions in blowing up houses were heard eighteen 
 miles off. Four houses of worship and one lecture- 
 room were destroyed. Among these was Trinity 
 Church, a wooden building, the largest of the 
 Methodist churches in the city. The old church 
 in Cumberland street had been removed a short 
 time previously, and a new brick church was in 
 process of erection. This was destroyed also, with 
 the workshop of the contractor, and a large amount 
 of materials. On the Sunday after the fire, the 
 
368 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Methodists held service in the market, morning 
 and afternoon, Dr. Capers officiating. Crowds of 
 people were present, and the worship was as solemn 
 and undisturbed as though it had been held in a 
 church. The congregation of St. Philip's Church 
 (Protestant Episcopalian) immediately and very 
 kindly tendered the use of a large wooden build- 
 ing, called the Tabernacle, to the destitute Method- 
 ist congregations ; and this was gratefully accepted 
 and used until the new churches were erected. On 
 the 30th of April, a meeting of the members of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church was held, the Eev. 
 Bond English, preacher in charge, in the chair; 
 at which it was resolved that a circular should be 
 sent to the ministers of the South Carolina and 
 Georgia Conferences, asking assistance in rebuild- 
 ing Trinity and Cumberland Churches ; and that 
 provision should be made for employing an editor, 
 pro tern., for the Southern Christian Advocate, in 
 order that Dr. Capers might travel through the 
 State soliciting aid for the same purpose. 
 
 The Doctor cheerfully accepted this mission of 
 mercy. Mr. English edited the paper, and he set 
 out on a tour through the middle and upper 
 districts of South Carolina, commencing in May, 
 and preaching nearly every day, sometimes twice a 
 day, until the close of July. This laborious tour 
 he performed on horseback, during one of the 
 hottest summers that had been known for many 
 years. The result of his earnest and eloquent 
 appeals was, in subscriptions and cash, the noble 
 
CENTENARY OF METHODISM. 
 
 369 
 
 sum of thirteen thousand dollars and a little up- 
 wards. He had the pleasure of dedicating Trinity 
 Church when it was completed. 
 
 The year 1839 was the memorable Methodistic year, 
 in which Methodism completed its first centennial 
 period. This centenary was celebrated throughout 
 the world as a jubilee. It was marked as an occa- 
 sion not only of deep religious joy, but of unpre- 
 cedented liberality on the part of the members and 
 friends of the Church. The originating impulse 
 was given in England, where a million of dollars 
 was contributed in free-will offerings of grateful 
 love, for the benefits received from God, through 
 Methodist instrumentalities; the key-note having 
 been struck by the first contribution, which was of 
 a thousand guineas by a widow lady. Dr. Capers 
 threw himself into this movement with character- 
 istic energy. Appeal followed appeal in the 
 columns of the Advocate ; and the fervid editorials 
 stirred up answering fire in every direction. The 
 following paragraph is a specimen : 
 
 "Never was there such a time for exertion in 
 the cause of charity as the present, or a time when 
 the efforts of the sons of benevolence were likely 
 to produce so rich a result. The Church sum- 
 mons all her children to her assistance in a great 
 effort to place her institutions, one and all, on a 
 basis answerable to their importance, and that 
 shall give them the measure of efficiency they 
 ought to possess, alike for her advantage and the 
 good of mankind. The appeal is irresistible. 
 16* 
 
370 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 None can hold back from the performance of his 
 duty, or advance to its performance with a divided 
 heart. ' The divisions of Reuben' cannot arise, nor 
 Gilead abide beyond Jordan, nor Dan remain in 
 his ships, nor Asher continue on the sea-shore; but 
 as Zebulun and ISTaphtali, we will all go up to the 
 help of the Lord against the mighty. Indeed, we 
 ♦have already gone up, and the work is begun in 
 the face of our foes. To halt or retreat we cannot. 
 The shout of triumph is heard in our van, and soon 
 the remotest rear shall resound with the voice of 
 thanksgiving. But let us be doing. Meetings in 
 every town, meetings in every populous country- 
 place, meetings in every large society: let there 
 be meetings ; and at once ; let there be meetings." 
 
 On the 25th October, the centenary was cele- 
 brated with religious services throughout the 
 country. The occasion was everywhere realized 
 as a time of special spiritual refreshment. The 
 contributions in the Georgia and South Carolina 
 Conferences largely exceeded one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars. Many who hailed that day with pious 
 exultation, have passed to their everlasting homes 
 above. None of those who took part in those 
 blessed solemnities shall witness the dawn of the 
 second centenary day. But they have bequeathed 
 to the world results which shall move on to the 
 end of time. 
 
DR. LOVICK PIERCE. 
 
 371 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 General Conference of 1840 — Conversion of his son William — Ap- 
 pointed Missionary Secretary for the South — Preaches the funeral 
 sermon of Mrs. Andrew. 
 
 The General Conference of 1840 was held at 
 Baltimore. The week before the delegates left 
 Charleston, there was a camp-meeting held in the 
 vicinity of the city. The venerable Dr. Lovick 
 Pierce was one of the preachers from a distance 
 who were present. His text on Sunday was : " Be- 
 cause iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall 
 wax cold; but he that endureth to the end, the 
 same shall be saved.' ' This subject was handled 
 with the skill, force, and sweep of a master of 
 pulpit oratory. The causes which led to the 
 abounding of iniquity were traced with a power 
 of delineation absolutely terrific at times ; and 
 particularly so when the preacher came to consider 
 the blight and mildew spread over society by the 
 example and influence of public men who had no 
 fear of God, no love of virtue. Then came, in 
 striking contrast, a picture of the militant virtue 
 which treads down soft effeminacy, resists to the 
 
372 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 last extremity every debasing appetite, and main- 
 tains to the end its purity, loveliness, and dignity 
 with manly valor ; and the true and steadfast love 
 which is the soul of all piety — full of loyalty to 
 Christ — finding in God's favor its highest heaven 
 of enjoyment. The first part of the sermon cut 
 with an edge of steel into the hoary crest of social 
 iniquity, and with intrepid spirit and full strength 
 clove down the towering front of hydra-headed 
 vice ; the latter part harnessed the coursers of the 
 sun, and drove the victor agonistes, in a chariot of 
 fire, to the gate of heaven. Robert Newton preached 
 the next Sunday in the Light Street Church of 
 Baltimore, and was heard by several who had 
 listened to Dr. Pierce at the camp-meeting. The 
 shade of the great "Wesleyan orator will pardon the 
 writer for saying, that the comparison of the two 
 efforts was wholly in favor of the camp-meeting 
 sermon. 
 
 Among those who were brought under deep reli- 
 gious concern at the meeting just referred to, was 
 the second son of Dr. Capers, who shortly after- 
 wards found " the pearl of great price" in finding 
 Christ as his personal, all-sufficient Saviour. He 
 subsequently entered the travelling ministry in the 
 South Carolina Conference. Dr. Capers, who was 
 then in Baltimore attending the General Confer- 
 ence, soon received the intelligence of his son's 
 conversion. This threw a gleam of unutterable 
 joy over his spirit. He wrote immediately to Wil- 
 liam the following deeply interesting letter : 
 
CONVERSION OF HIS SON WILLIAM. 373 
 
 " My very dear Son : — When I wrote to you a 
 few days ago, my most anxious hope had not antici- 
 pated so much — by any means so much — in so 
 short a time, as I have had the delightful, nay, rap- 
 turous pleasure of learning from Susan's letter by 
 brother Sewell this day. My dear boy, hold fast. 
 As sure as you live, and there is a soul in your 
 body, let fools say what they will, you will be made 
 for both worlds if you hold fast the mercy you 
 have received, and acknowledge always the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. Thousands of silver and gold were 
 as nothing to this. I thank God, I bless his holy 
 name with joy unspeakable, that he gave you 
 courage to acknowledge him on the Tuesday night 
 at the altar in Trinity Church, on Thursday night, 
 the 30th April, at the love-feast, where you joined 
 the Church. And you found on Saturday night 
 the good of it, when you found peace in believing. 
 Blessed be God ! 
 
 " You must never give back; and that you may 
 not, you must watch against evil and be constant 
 to prayer. Expect to be tempted much, and in 
 every way. The devil will seek, nay, seeks, to 
 destroy you by every plausible suggestion, and 
 every form of attack. I told you before that if 
 you felt at any time that you had lost ground, or 
 done wrong, or in any way grieved the Holy Spirit, 
 you should by no means yield to discouragement, 
 as though you could not recover, or not permanent- 
 ly persevere, but renew and redouble your suppli- 
 cations for pardon and peace. This is the way still, 
 
374 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 and will always be the way for you to hold on and 
 not fail. But now, you need to be advised against 
 that stratagem of your enemy by which he almost 
 universally assails young converts, and frequently 
 to their cost, by persuading them that they have 
 been mistaken, and have not experienced a genuine 
 work of grace. I suffered much and long from 
 this quarter myself. But without waiting to reason 
 about the matter, carry it straight to the throne of 
 grace, and ask light from above. 'Ask, and you 
 shall receive.' But if you even fall into darkness 
 of mind, and even if you are sure that this has 
 been induced by something you have done wrong, 
 still, as I have said, go to your knees. Go and 
 make haste to confess and humble yourself at the 
 foot of the cross, and you shall soon have light and 
 life again. I am glad that you speak to brother 
 Walker freely. Do so by all means. Do not be 
 backward to tell him all that troubles you, and may 
 God most graciously bless you. Read the Scrip- 
 tures, and pray in secret. Guard against whatever 
 might betray you into wrong tempers, and be con- 
 stant to your class. I have much joy of you, my 
 son, and pray unceasingly that God may most 
 graciously bless you with his protection, guidance, 
 and grace, by the Holy Spirit, through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord. 
 
 "Your rejoicing father, W. Capers. 
 
 "May 9, 1840." 
 
 William was then about fifteen years of age : his 
 
CONCERN FOR II I S SON. 875 
 
 very youth, with the native vivacity of his temper, 
 gave an increased depth of tenderness and solici- 
 tude to his father's feelings on the occasion of his 
 making a religious profession. Two days after the 
 foregoing letter was written, Mrs. Capers received 
 one, from which the following extract will show 
 how the father's heart throbbed on with the 
 quickened pulse of joy: 
 
 " What can I write to you about so properly as 
 about William ? And yet I do not suppose I need 
 say any thing to impress you with any feeling ad- 
 ditional to what you have on his account. 0, how 
 much tenderness, faithfulness, and continual counsel 
 he must reasonably require to keep him steadily on 
 as he has begun ! Nor need I say a word to im- 
 press you, or his brother or sisters, with any addi- 
 tional feeling to what you have of the infinite im- 
 portance to him, for both worlds, of his maintaining 
 his religious course. If William holds on, and you 
 and I live to see him a man, we shall rejoice for the 
 day he was born. A man he will be, to bless us 
 and the Church of God. 0 no ; I write not to ad- 
 vise you to watch over him with continual and 
 faithful tenderness, advising him, joining with him 
 in religious conversation and devotion, and the like ; 
 for I know you cannot need it — you cannot fail of 
 any thing in your power to do for him ; but I write 
 because my mind and heart are as yours are, and I 
 can scarcely think of any thing but William. 
 Blessed be God for this great mercy, and may his 
 divine goodness keep the lad for evermore.' ' 
 
376 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 A couple of weeks later lie says : "I am exceed- 
 ing full of comfort for you all, so that often as 
 my thoughts go home, (and that is as often as they 
 are not held back on business,) they salute you all 
 with an emotion which nobody else could feel. 
 Sometimes I feel as if my warfare was accom- 
 plished — or as if I had reached a summit on my 
 pilgrim-way of trouble and temptation, and saw 
 the clouds and darkness which had persecuted my 
 soul rolled back afar, and a path of sunshine open- 
 ing before me. William's conversion alone has given 
 me, as it were, a new heavens and earth. Take 
 care of him ; make allowances ; be faithful to him 
 every day and hour, but be very tender. Blessed 
 be the Lord God, whose mercy is everlasting." 
 
 At this General Conference, Dr. Capers was ap- 
 pointed chairman of a committee to prepare a letter 
 to the British Conference. In the address, which 
 was written by him, the position of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church in reference to slavery — a topic 
 which had been referred to in the Letter of the 
 British Conference — was defined in the following 
 clear and emphatic terms : 
 
 " Of these United States, (to the government and 
 laws of which, ' according to the division of power 
 made- to them by the Constitution of the Union, 
 and the Constitutions of the several States/ we owe 
 and delight to render a sincere and patriotic 
 loyalty,) there are several which do not allow of 
 slavery. There are others in which it is allowed, 
 and there are slaves ; but the tendency of the laws, 
 
SLAVERY AND ABOLITION. 377 
 
 and the minds of the majority of the people, are in 
 favor of emancipation. But there are others in 
 which slavery exists so universally, and is so closely 
 interwoven with their civil institutions, that both 
 do the laws disallow of emancipation, and the great 
 body of the people (the source of laws with us) 
 hold it to be treasonable to set forth any thing, by 
 word or deed, tending that way. Each one of all 
 these States is independent of the rest and sovereign, 
 with respect to its internal government, (as much 
 so as if there existed among them no confederation 
 for ends of common interest,) and therefore it is 
 impossible to frame a rula on slavery proper for our 
 people in all the States alike. But our Church is 
 extended through all the States, and it would be 
 wrong and unscriptural to enact a rule of discipline 
 in opposition to the Constitution and laws of the 
 State on this subject; so also would it not be equi- 
 table or scriptural to confound the positions of our 
 ministers and people, so different are they in dif- 
 ferent States, with respect to the moral question 
 which slavery involves." 
 
 When the Address was presented to the General 
 Conference for adoption, a division was called for 
 by the leader of the abolitionist party; and on 
 counting the votes for the adoption of the portion 
 relating to slavery, one hundred and fourteen mem- 
 bers voted for it, and eighteen in the negative. 
 This, then, was the position of the Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church in 1840, as expounded by her highest 
 assembly. 
 
378 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 At this General Conference the territory of the 
 Church was divided into three missionary depart- 
 ments, and Dr. Capers was appointed secretary for 
 the Southern division. The general interests of 
 the missionary work within this district were in- 
 trusted to his oversight; and in the performance 
 of his official duties, it was necessary that he should 
 travel at large, preach on the subject, and hold mis- 
 sionary meetings, attending, besides, as many ses- 
 sions of the Annual Conferences as possible. This 
 was a large field of labor, presenting some attract- 
 ive features, but not a few difficulties and discour- 
 agements. It entailed, beyond doubt, protracted 
 absences from home, and fatiguing routes of travel. 
 For four years this work occupied the time and 
 attention of Dr. Capers. He removed his family 
 from Charleston to Oxford, Georgia, and attended, 
 during the autumn and winter, several Conferences, 
 In the spring of the year 1841 he made an exten- 
 sive W estern tour, leaving Oxford about the first 
 of April, and visiting Columbus, Georgia, Mont- 
 gomery, Tuskaloosa, Columbus, Mississippi, Jack- 
 son, Vicksburg, Grand Gulf, Port Gibson, Wash- 
 ington, and Natchez. This journey was performed 
 with horse and sulky. He met all his appointments, 
 and enjoyed fine health. 
 
 In a letter from Natchez there is found the fol- 
 lowing beautiful passage : " 0, I have borne the 
 cross, and the cross sustains me. I have gone back 
 to the time of my youth, when I had a little strength, 
 and have felt my strength renewed. God has been 
 
LABORS AS MISSIONARY SECRETARY. 379 
 
 with me of a truth, in all my way ; and more and 
 more has he been with me. Blessed be his name. 
 I wish ardently for but one thing — his blessing 
 upon you all, and his guiding hand, even as he has 
 guided me, as long as you live, and for ever. Will 
 he not be your God from henceforth, and even for 
 evermore ? Surely he will. Will not his blessing, 
 too, prove your salvation for ever ? Trust in him. 
 Let all my house fear God and serve him, and it 
 shall be well with them, for he hath promised it. 
 The blessing of God Almighty, given in Christ 
 Jesus, be with you." 
 
 At Natchez he embarked horse and sulky on a 
 Mississippi steamer, and reached Memphis on the 
 21st May. The last evening he spent on the steam- 
 boat, a petition from the ladies was handed him by 
 *Judge Covington, requesting a sermon. With this 
 request he complied, of course, preaching on a text 
 which led him to show that religion is founded in 
 knowledge, and not in ignorance or superstition ; 
 and to press the necessity of applying to the acquire- 
 ment of that knowledge in the only way in which it 
 can be obtained. 
 
 From Memphis he visited his brother, the Rev. 
 B. H. Capers, in Haywood county, spending a week 
 with him, but preaching during the time, at Sum- 
 merville and Brownsville. Filling an appointment 
 at Jackson, Tennessee, on the last Sunday of May, 
 he spent the following Sunday at Nashville ; and 
 preaching in the prominent towns on his return 
 route, he reached home the last of June. In the 
 
380 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 autumn he made another three months' tour, through 
 the Carolinas and Virginia, attending the session 
 of the Virginia Conference at Portsmouth. This 
 route carried him through the scenes of his youth. 
 One of his appointments was at Lodebar, Sumter 
 District, South Carolina. He says: "I preached 
 to a respectably large congregation, in which there 
 were but two individuals who belonged to the 
 neighborhood, even so late as 1821. Not one 
 grown person of those days is left. I visited the 
 hallowed spot where my father, and wife, and first 
 son, and brother-in-law lie buried — visited it alone, 
 and felt the humbling lesson of the grave. Ah, 
 me ! why am I not more holy ? I can never live 
 in that neighborhood ; and yet I feel an inde- 
 scribable interest in it. It seems to be curtained 
 with grave-clothes ; every thing serving to remind 
 me of the dead." 
 
 In January, 1842, Dr. Capers attended the ses- 
 sion of the South Carolina Conference at Char- 
 lotte. He was much encouraged by the decided 
 opinion expressed by Bishop "Waugh that his labors 
 as Missionary Secretary were eminently useful, and 
 ought by no means to be discontinued. He says : 
 "I hope it* may be actually so. Truly, it is not 
 pleasant to the flesh to be so continually going, 
 and to so great distances from home ; nor is it in 
 any way desirable to be placed in an almost bound- 
 less field, where at every point work is wanted to 
 be done, and one can do so little for the whole. 
 But the great consideration is to be useful ; and if 
 
FUNERAL SERMON OF MRS. ANDREW. 381 
 
 in this wide field I can be more useful than in an- 
 other, well; let me still give myself and serve on." 
 In April he visited the missions to the blacks in 
 South Carolina, and then went to New York, 
 where he attended the anniversary of the Mission- 
 ary Society. " The brethren here," he says, 
 "receive me with great kindness, and # no one 
 with more than brother Lane. Dear, good man, 
 I reckon I shall never meet him while I live, with- 
 out remembering the mattress on the floor, on 
 which his honored bones were put wearily to rest 
 in our house, once, in Charleston." 
 
 In June, by invitation of Bishop Andrew, Dr. 
 Capers preached the funeral sermon of the lamented 
 Mrs. Andrew — a lady of peculiar excellences -of 
 mind and heart, the closing scene of whose life is 
 thus described by Dr. Longstreet: "For many 
 months before her death she looked forward to 
 her approaching dissolution with calmness and 
 composure ; but entertaining no higher hopes, it 
 is believed, than to die in peace and without fear. 
 But about a week before she was taken from earth, 
 it pleased God to give her such a bright manifesta- 
 tion of his presence, and of her acceptance, that 
 she broke forth into shouts of triumph. Thence- 
 forth her little strength was spent in glorifying 
 God, calling on her friends to rejoice with her, 
 encouraging Christians, counselling sinners, and 
 consoling her family. For the remaining week of 
 her life, no cloud intervened between her and 
 heaven. In response to a brother's question, 
 
382 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 wlien she could no longer speak, she signified by 
 repeated motions of the head that God was still 
 near to her, and that her way was clear. She em- 
 braced religion at the age of thirteen, cherished it 
 for about thirty-three years, and died in its triumphs, 
 in her forty-sixth year." 
 
SOUTH-WESTERN TOUK. 
 
 883 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Removes from Oxford to Charleston — Makes the tour of the South- 
 western Conferences — Visits his aunt in Kentucky — Incidents of 
 travel — Maum Rachel. 
 
 In the latter part of 1842, Dr. Capers removed 
 his family from Oxford to Charleston. Iii the 
 spring of the following year, after having attended 
 the sessions of several Conferences during the 
 winter, he made a tour of the missionary stations 
 in the low country. Frequent articles appeared 
 from his pen in the Southern Christian Advocate 
 on the subject of missions, during the summer. 
 In July, his daughter, Susan Bethia, was married 
 to Professor Stone, of Emory College. About the 
 middle of September, he set out on a long Western 
 tour, and was absent from home nearly five months. 
 He attended the sessions of the South-western 
 Conferences, beginning with the Tennessee Con- 
 ference, held at Gallatin. 
 
 Having time between the session of the Tennessee 
 and Memphis Conferences to make a brief visit to a 
 venerable relative whom he had never seen, he left 
 Nashville on the night of the 27th October. There 
 had been snow in the course of the day. " So, 
 taking the hint/' he says, " I bought a Mackinaw 
 blanket to wrap up in for the night, in the stage. 
 
384 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 The stage, however, proved to be a nondescript 
 vehicle, more like a wagon than a coach, made 
 for a road which defied all springs, and tested the 
 utmost strength of any thing that could be made 
 of wood and iron ; and such was the violence of 
 the jolting over rocks imbedded in mud, that 
 neither blanket nor cloak could I keep wrapped 
 about me, but had to use arms, and hands, and feet 
 to sustain myself against the bounding, thumping 
 stage, that it should not bruise me. The driver 
 was young and reckless — one of the sort to see 
 better and drive faster in the dark than in day- 
 light; so about two o'clock in the night, he ran 
 out of the road and upset us in, fortunately, one of 
 the few spots where it was all mud and no rocks. 
 No harm happened by the upset, except that being 
 in the mud was an increase of my exposure, in a 
 night when (so soon after summer) the ground was 
 hard with frost and the water covered with ice. I 
 took cold, of course." 
 
 He found Mrs. Allen at Russellville. She was 
 the only surviving sister of his mother : a venerable 
 lady, seventy-five years of age, who had not seen a 
 single member of her family after leaving South 
 Carolina, fifty years previously. She had been, 
 from the formation of the first Methodist Society 
 in the parishes of her native State, true and steady 
 in her Christian profession ; and was, perhaps, the 
 only individual at that time alive of the generation 
 who grew up with her in the section of country 
 where she was born. "I mean," said the Doctor, 
 
LOVE TO HIS MOTHER. 385 
 
 "for my dear mother's sake, to go and sit down 
 with her, and let her talk it all over her own way, 
 for a day at least." He enjoyed the visit very 
 much. It carried him back to the days of child- 
 hood, and stirred the memory of life's young 
 dreams. His aunt's face recalled the early vision 
 of a mother's smiles. "I find myself," he said 
 after the interview, "more than ever curious to 
 know my mother. Surely when I get to heaven, 
 (for I do expect to get there,) it will be the very 
 first recognition I shall seek to make : if my dear 
 Anna should not rather be first among created 
 ones. I never knew my mother since my infant 
 smiles to her caresses. She died as soon as I 
 could call her name. But I cannot tell how much 
 I love my mother; and I feel that it is more and 
 more as I grow older. Shall I not know that she 
 is my mother, in the world above ? I think I shall. 
 And if so, shall I introduce to her those whom God 
 has given me, those who have gone before me ; or 
 will she know me, an old man, for the infant she left, 
 and bring my wife and children to meet me ? There 
 is a veil upon it, not to be lifted before the time. 
 But 0, let us make haste, sure haste to that time. 
 Our friends will not be in the way of our supreme 
 and infinite adoration of the Lord our Redeemer, 
 our God and Saviour, in that world. They need 
 not be in this world, though we know them and 
 love them with the utmost ardor. May God keep 
 us by his grace, and then we shall be sure to find 
 that whatever may be the constitution of our 
 17 
 
386 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 nature in the life to come, it shall be what is infi- 
 nitely happiest for us, and most to the glory of 
 God." 
 
 O this mysterious, awful shadow, this veil which 
 hides the great eternal hereafter ; how we long to 
 get one glimpse beyCnd it ! How imagination, 
 conjecture, inquiry, seek to pierce the dark frontier 
 which divides the stupendous realities of the future 
 state from our present earthly condition ! And 
 these human affections of ours, how ardently they 
 desire to know that departed friends, whose 
 memories we cherish so fondly, do actually feel for 
 us a kind and heightened interest eveA amidst the 
 amazing scenes of the world of spirits ! There is 
 good ground for the confident assurance that they 
 do. "I sometimes wonder," said a profound 
 thinker, John Foster, "that religious teachers 
 advert so little in any distinct terms to the state 
 immediately after death, which inspiration has so 
 expressly asserted to be a state of consciousness, 
 and of happiness to faithful souls." 
 
 Some of the incidents of travel on his return 
 route, Dr. Capers thus describes: "I left Colum- 
 bus, Mississippi, on New Year's day, encouraged, by 
 the few days of fair weather of the previous week, 
 to hope that I might reach Montgomery, by the 
 way of Greensboro and Selma, by stage. But the 
 rain was again upon us like a flood, and after 
 travelling only twenty-three miles, the driver firmly 
 told me I could go no farther. The river, of course, 
 was my alternative ; and to the river I went in 
 
WESTERN HOSPITALITY. 387 
 
 search of a boat. The evening of the 3d found me 
 on the western shore of the Tombigbee, five miles 
 from its junction with the Alabama, where I was 
 in hope of a passage in the boat of that evening up 
 the Alabama. I had been told of clever accommo- 
 dations at my stopping-place ; and what I found I 
 will now relate as a specimen of Western hospi- 
 tality. There was a comfortable dwelling, kitchen, 
 etc. ; but the proprietors had abandoned the place 
 on account of its sickliness, and were living two 
 or three miles back in the pine woods. An old 
 negro man, left in charge of the buildings, was the 
 only resident. His kitchen fire was warm ; he 
 talked of cooking something for my 'reberence,' 
 which I declined ; and I was returning his proffered 
 kindness with a word about his soul, when a fine- 
 looking man entered. He was the proprietor, who 
 had been all day engaged in loading a boat some- 
 where in the neighborhood, and going home a little 
 after night, was induced to stop by the sight of a 
 traveller's trunk in a corner of his piazza. "We 
 were mutually unknown, and I only wanted a fire 
 on the bank of the river, where I could await the 
 arrival of the steamer. But no such thing. A fire 
 must be made in the house, and he would make it. 
 c But, sir, you have been with your boat all day 
 long, without any thing to eat ; you had better go 
 home.' ' That is nothing, compared to your being 
 here without any supper. I'll make you a fire, 
 and then I will go/ So the fire was made, and we 
 chatted freely, interrupted, however, with frequent 
 
388 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 expressions of regrets by mine host that I should 
 find nothing to eat, and as frequent remonstrances 
 on my part against his remaining so late from home, 
 when he must be hungry, and Mrs. B. uneasy 
 ^ about him. It took me an hour to prevail on him 
 to go. And my next care was to extinguish the 
 fire, and remove my quarters to the bank of the 
 river. Here I was, seated on my trunk over a 
 blazing fire, at nine o'clock P. M., when lo, my 
 host was again upon me, and with him a lovely 
 young woman, his wife. His supper had long been 
 waiting for him, and as I could not be induced to 
 go and share it with him, the good lady had 
 resolved to bring a cup of coffee to the old preacher 
 where he was. It was a moonlight night, though 
 cloudy. Only a pleasant ride on horseback, she 
 insisted. And again I was removed to the house. 
 And now that troublesome trunk. It must not be 
 left at the river, but taken to the house, and Mr. B. 
 must carry it. I protested, and took hold on a strap ; 
 but he would have it to himself, fairly on his 
 shoulder, without any partnership in the load. 
 There we were then, again in the house, with the 
 addition of an elegant woman to our company; 
 (for such was Mrs. B., if I know what makes an 
 elegant woman ;) and we talked away as if each 
 meant to find out every thing that concerned the 
 other, right away. Presently the puffing noise of a 
 steamer was heard, and seizing a torch, I ran for 
 the river ; Mrs. B. running step for step with me, 
 and Mr. B. (fine fellow) bearing the trunk without 
 
WESTERN HOSPITALITY. 
 
 389 
 
 my knowledge of his doing so. The boat was 
 racing, and would not stop to take me. And now 
 it was eleven o'clock at night. Mrs. B. had left a 
 sick child at home, and in all conscience I thought 
 she must have had enough of the old parson. 
 Would she not go home? Did she mean to sit 
 there all night? * Madam/ said I, ' you say this is 
 not your house because you cannot accommodate 
 me in it: suppose then you allow me to take 
 possession. Have you any objection, Mr. B. V 
 'ISTo, no,' she exclaimed, anticipating him, 'he has 
 no objection. It is your house, and we are only 
 your visitors.' 'Very well/ I replied: 'then let 
 me tell you, madam, that it is past eleven o'clock; 
 you are three miles from home ; you have a sick 
 child ; and it is time for you to make your election 
 between going home and going to bed, if you can 
 find bed and bedclothes about my house.' At 
 about midnight they went home ; and some hours 
 after I got aboard a steamboat, never more deeply 
 impressed with "Western hospitality. Mr. B. was 
 a graduate of the University of Alabama, and Mrs. 
 B. had been educated at Georgetown, D. C. 
 
 "Did you ever get aboard one of their double- 
 engine steamboats, by a yawl, on a dark night? 
 If not, be reminded to take care when you do. 
 The moon was down before the Southerner an- 
 swered my waving torchlight, and sent her yawl 
 to fetch me aboard. I had before noticed the quick- 
 ness of their movements on like occasions on those 
 waters, and as the men were pulling for the boat, 
 
390 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 I begged them to take care of me in getting aboard, 
 and not be too quick to sing out 6 ready ; c for I am 
 no longer active, my good fellows/ said I, 'and will 
 need more time than a younger man might.' 
 6 You shall have your time, sir,' answered one of 
 them, ' and I will see you all safe.' And he was 
 as good as his word, or that had been my last 
 adventure. 
 
 " There are two engines employed to propel those 
 boats, and they are placed on the main deck, next 
 to the wheels. The boats have two stories or 
 decks, like long, two-storied, flat-roofed houses, 
 built on their decks, as wide as their hulls. The 
 lower of these stories is used for carrying freight, 
 and in the present case the freight was cotton ; 
 while the upper story forms the habitable part of 
 the boat. The freight, cotton bales, was separated 
 from the engines by an open framework, and filled 
 the entire space between them, and to the ceiling, 
 except sixteen or eighteen inches along one side, 
 next to the enclosure of the starboard engine. I 
 had never observed where the engines were placed 
 on board these boats, or how the boatmen passed 
 from place to place on that lower deck ; but, taking 
 it for granted all was plain and easy, having gained 
 the deck from the yawl at the stern of the boat, I 
 was making my way before the man with my trunk 
 to the steps forward of the wheelhouse, when the 
 engineer let off steam, and filled the whole place with 
 a mist so thick that I could not see. It was just 
 at the moment the man at the yawl cried out, 'All 
 
RACHEL WELLS. 
 
 391 
 
 ready,' and precisely as I had reached the point of 
 the squeezing passage between the cotton bales and 
 the engine. The passage I could not see ; but the 
 engine being yet at rest, with the huge beam they 
 call the pitman lying horizontally just at my feet, 
 I took that for the way, and was actually stepping 
 on it, when the man behind seized and drew me 
 back. The pilot's bell had already jingled, and the 
 engineer's answered to it, so that a few seconds 
 more showed me the pitman I was going to walk 
 on, lifted to the ceiling as a great arm turning the 
 wheels of the boat. How nigh had been death, and 
 how unsuspected !" 
 
 While Dr. Capers was Missionary Secretary, the 
 following incident occurred in Charleston, which 
 deeply affected him : There was living in Anson 
 street a saintly old colored woman, named Rachel 
 Wells. She had been a member of the Methodist 
 Church for many years, and been a pattern of piety 
 in humble life. Her patience and faith, her good 
 works and consistent example, had been long 
 known to Dr. Capers, who held her in high regard. 
 Some years previously, while in charge of the 
 Charleston Station, he had occasion to visit Aunt 
 Rachel, and gave the following account of the in- 
 terview : " She had fallen down the step-ladder 
 which served for stairs, and struck an eye with so 
 much force as almost to put it out, inflicting ex- 
 cruciating pain, and endangering her life by in- 
 flammation. It was at a time when our worthiest 
 and ablest ministers happened to be in the city, 
 
392 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 waiting for a passage by ship to New York, on 
 their way to a General Conference, and we had ser- 
 vice in Trinity Church every evening, greatly to 
 our refreshment. i Sorry to see you in so sad a case, 
 Maum Rachel, ' said I, as I approached her little cham- 
 ber, from which almost every ray of light had been 
 excluded on account of the painfulness of her eye. 
 < Sorry I am, very sorry for you ; and the more, that 
 this bad accident should have happened just now, 
 when we are having such good meetings every night 
 in Trinity. You would be so happy if you could 
 be with us there/ 
 
 " ' I hear of de meetin, sir/ she answered, 'and 
 t'ank God for 'em for you sake; but as for me, I 
 hab no need o' dem. I couldn't do widout Trinity 
 Church before, and while I well I neber off my 
 seat da, day or night ; but since dis ting come 'pon 
 me you call bad accident, I hab no need of Trinity 
 Church any more ; t'ank God, my blessed Jesus 
 hab shorter way to me now dan by Trinity Church. 
 All he do for me wid de meetin befo-time, he do 
 for me now widout de meetin ; and more too, bless 
 de Lord.' " 
 
 On the occasion before referred to, Dr. Capers 
 went to see Aunt Rachel. Part of the conversation 
 was in the following words : " Alluding to her 
 seeming solitude, she said : ' Time was when I had ? 
 some 'bout me, but God please to tek dem from 
 me. But I quite resign. "When de las one gone, I 
 feel my heart begin to sick an fret. But I tink, 
 what dis? If I fret, who I fret 'gainst? My 
 
RACHEL WELLS. 
 
 393 
 
 chil'en gon, but my frien 9 tek 'em. I can't fret 
 'gainst my frien 9 . Den I lif up my heart and say, 
 Well, Lord, you got 'em all now ; you aint lef me 
 one. Now den you come stay wid me, and I no 
 care. I tek you now in place o' all dem you tek 
 from me. So he come to me closer dan eber, an I 
 neber want for anybody else.' 
 
 " She gave me a pretty thought of the perpetuity 
 of Christian zeal beyond the present state. Speak- 
 ing of our late lamented Kennedy, she said : 
 
 " 'Well, Mr. Kennedy he keep go and neber stop 
 till he drop down in de Master work. So you must 
 do too. All de dear minister what used to work 
 wid him must do so too. Mr. Kennedy gone, but 
 dat spirit Mr. Kennedy had he carry wid him. 
 And you tink Mr. Kennedy do notin' in heaven? 
 He no stan still for God here, he no stan still dere. 
 He ministerin' spirit. He fly like de angel to help 
 de work on. 9 
 
 " Taking leave of her, she slipped a half-dollar 
 into my hand. ' The poor have the gospel preached 
 unto them, and the poor are the principal supporters 
 of the gospel,' said I, as I perceived the piece she 
 had deposited with me. 
 
 "'I take this the more thankfully for the mis- 
 sions, because, in these hard times, it is very sel- 
 dom I have money put into my hand unasked, even 
 for so good a cause ; and may God repay y ou mani- 
 fold in this present life.' 
 
 " 'Dat, sir, if you please, you tek for a token o* 
 17* 
 
394 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 cle lub I hab for you for Christ sake. T'ank 
 God, I hab dis oder one for de missionary — all for 
 Christ.' 
 
 "I felt exceedingly humble," added the Doctor. 
 "The missions were worthy Maum Rachel's half- 
 dollar, I knew ; I felt that I was not." 
 
 Let no one say that Christianity, before the sub- 
 Jime truths of which an archangel might well stand 
 uncovered, is not at the same time adapted to the 
 intellectual capacity of the lowliest of the children 
 of earth. Could a synod of divines have set forth 
 more strikingly the true doctrine in regard to " the 
 means of grace" than Maum Rachel did? They 
 were necessary for her in ordinary circumstances, 
 but providentially precluded from them, the blessed 
 Jesus had a shorter way to her than by Trinity 
 Church ! What a depth of divine philosophy is 
 unfolded in the thought, so clearly conceived, 
 though uttered in broken English ! 
 
 And where can we find the evangelical ground 
 for resignation under the loss of friends and 
 children more touchingly presented to view than in 
 the sublime idea that a Divine friend has removed 
 them, and loyalty to that friend demands unques- 
 tioning submission to behests that must be kind as 
 w^ell as wise ? And then humble love comes closer 
 to that Divine friend, and takes him in the place of 
 all who had been taken away, and finds more than 
 all in the more intimate fellowship of the spirit 
 with him. 
 
RACHEL WELLS. 
 
 395 
 
 It might be supposed that in the mind of an illit- 
 erate African woman, any notion of the employ- 
 ments of the heavenly world must of necessity 
 be very crude and material — rest from labor, 
 abodes of indolent pleasure, the antithesis in its 
 glittering types of sensuous enjoyment to the stern 
 conditions of the earthly lot. Not a word of it in 
 the instance of Rachel Wells. There is more than 
 Miltonic grandeur in the thought that the faithful 
 minister of Christ carries with him into the eternal 
 state the spirit which prompted and sustained a life 
 of laborious zeal for Christ. That spirit never 
 faltered here ; its wing of active exertion never 
 drooped ; a subordinate agent in the plans of the 
 Divine economy, it never stood still for God on 
 earth. Trained into habitual vigor by the prepar- 
 atory discipline of the present life, that same spirit 
 will not stand still in the celestial world. A min- 
 istry of benevolent enterprise, embodying modes 
 of action, sentiment, affection, that have been 
 trained on earth, measures out the successive stages 
 of its jubilant ascent on the path of eternal life. 
 We may clothe the thought in the starry robes of 
 gorgeous language ; or we may look at it in the 
 severe simplicity of the most homely words, it is 
 very much the same. It is a thought that we do 
 not find in all the imperial range of Greek and 
 Roman and Oriental learning — nowhere outside of 
 the Book of God. 
 
 The reader is sufficiently interested, we trust, in 
 Rachel Wells, to allow us to add a word or two 
 
396 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 more. She was at the time of her death, August, 
 1849, the oldest member of the Charleston Me- 
 thodist church, white or colored. She was the first 
 colored person who joined the society, at the time 
 when the first religious meetings were held at the 
 house of her master, Mr. Edgar Wells. She saw 
 the foundation laid of the first Cumberland Street" 
 Church — a year or two after the close of the war of 
 the Revolution. She outlived two generations of 
 Methodists, a beautiful example of the power of 
 religion to make a servant upright and happy. A 
 short time before her death, we had the pleasure 
 of an interview with her. She conversed just as 
 one likes to hear an aged disciple talk. Her 
 thoughts seemed equally divided between the past 
 and the future. She told us the story of the first 
 planting of Methodism in Charleston ; and dwelt 
 with affectionate reverence upon the memory of 
 her master, who was instrumental in bringing her 
 to God. The anticipation of meeting him and the 
 various members of the family, in heaven, gave 
 transport to her heart. But after indulging for some 
 moments anticipations that rested on human rela- 
 tionships, she added, that all this was nothing in 
 comparison to the joy she felt in the prospect of 
 meeting that Saviour who died for her, whose like- 
 ness God's word assured her she should for ever 
 bear. This love of Christ was to her, as it has 
 been to millions, the antidote to death. Kindled in 
 her heart at her conversion to God in early life, it 
 had been the guiding light, the protecting glory 
 
RACHEL WELLS. 
 
 397 
 
 of a religious profession extending through, seventy 
 years, and, with a ray serene as the morning star, 
 it shone upon the last hour of mortal life, then 
 brightened into immortality. 
 
398 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 General Conference at New York — Debate on Finley's resolution — 
 Incipient measures for a division of the Church. 
 
 Near the close of April, 1844, Dr. Capers left 
 Charleston to attend the General Conference, held 
 at New York, as one of the delegates from the 
 South Carolina Conference. His home during the 
 session was at the residence of Mr. Fletcher Har- 
 per, where he found his friends Olin and Durbin. 
 The anti-slavery fanaticism of the Eastern and 
 Northern portion of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 reached a crisis at this General Conference, and it 
 turned out to be the last at which delegates from 
 the Southern and Northern Conferences met in one 
 assembly. 
 
 At the close of the first week the appeal of the 
 Rev. F. Harding, of the Baltimore Conference, was 
 taken up. On the 11th May, it was decided, on a 
 motion to reverse the decision of the Baltimore 
 Conference, by fifty-six ayes to one hundred and 
 seventeen nays. "I confess," said Dr. Capers, 
 " that both in the action of the Baltimore Confer- 
 ence in the case of Harding, and the action of the 
 General Conference on his appeal, in which the de- 
 
CASE OF BISHOP ANDREW. 
 
 399 
 
 cision of the Baltimore Conference. was affirmed, a 
 fancied purity from the defilement 6 of the great 
 evil of slavery/ appeared a Moloch at whose altar 
 humanity, justice, equity, seemed to be sacrificed." 
 
 This case was invested with higher interest, as 
 it showed the strength of the two parties in refer- 
 ence to a more important case, that of Bishop 
 Andrew, who, it was found, had "become " con- 
 nected with slavery." The Bishop, ascertaining 
 that a strong excitement was growing up against 
 him on this account, had solicited an interview 
 with the delegates of the Southern Conferences, 
 and proposed, if they wished it, to resign his office 
 for the sake of peace. They unhesitatingly de- 
 clined any assent to such a proposal ; but, on the 
 contrary, assured the Bishop that he could not 
 procure peace by such a sacrifice ; that his resigna- 
 tion would imply submission to an unjust and in- 
 jurious censorship, and would involve an utter 
 abandonment of Southern interests. 
 
 On the 14th May, Dr. Capers introduced in the 
 General Conference the following resolution : "In 
 view of the distracting agitation which has so long 
 prevailed on the subject of slavery and abolition, 
 and especially the difficulties under which we labor 
 in the present General Conference, on account of 
 the relative position of brethren North and South 
 on this perplexing question ; therefore, 
 
 Resolved, That a committee of three from the 
 North, and three from the South, be appointed to 
 confer with the Bishops, and report within two 
 
400 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 days, as to the possibility of adopting some plan, 
 and what, for the permanent pacification of the 
 Church." 
 
 This proposition was received with general favor, 
 and a committee was accordingly raised, with Dr. 
 Capers as chairman. After several ineffectual 
 attempts to lay down a basis of agreement satisfac- 
 tory to both parties, the committee reported their 
 failure, and were discharged from any farther con- 
 sideration of the subject. This failure satisfied 
 all thoughtful minds that the dismemberment of 
 the Church was an event inevitable. The knell of 
 the Church-union was already sounded. The dif- 
 ficulty was unmanageable by human wisdom or 
 power. 
 
 The first formal action in the case of Bishop 
 Andrew was taken May 20th, at the instance of a 
 member of the Baltimore delegation. On the 22d 
 a resolution was introduced by another member of 
 the same delegation, affectionately requesting the 
 Bishop to resign his office. On the 23d, a sub- 
 stitute was offered by Mr. Finley, of Ohio, resolving 
 that it was the sense of the General Conference 
 that Bishop Andrew desist from the exercise of his 
 office so long as the impediment of his connection 
 with slavery should remain. 
 
 The broad ground on which the Northern mem- 
 bers rested their plea was that of expediency. £To 
 attempt was made to show that the Bishop had 
 violated any law of the Book of Discipline, or any 
 pledge given at the time of his election to the 
 
DR. WINANS. 
 
 401 
 
 Episcopacy, that he would never become a slave- 
 holder. But inasmuch as it was held impossible 
 for him to exercise his functions in an Annual 
 Conference where the anti-slavery spirit prevailed 
 to a fanatical extent, while at the same time as a 
 Bishop he was a general superintendent, it was 
 maintained that he had disqualified himself for his 
 office, and must desist from exercising it any-- 
 where. To this the Southern members replied, 
 that the expediency was wholly on one side of this 
 question ; that the measure, however expedient for 
 the North, would be fearfully ruinous to the inter- 
 ests of the Church in the South. A distinct, 
 strong, unanimous testimony was delivered on that 
 point. 
 
 Dr. Winans, of the Mississippi Conference, made 
 the first speech on the Southern side, Dr. Capers 
 the last. Very able and impressive speeches were 
 also made by Dr. W. A. Smith, of Virginia, by the 
 Pierces, father and son, and Dr. Longstreet, of 
 Georgia, Mr. Stringfield, of Holston, Dr. A. L. P. 
 Green, of Tennessee, and others. Dr. Winans was 
 an impetuous speaker, after the Greek model ; 
 very plain in attire and appearance, wearing no 
 cravat, making no flourishes. But if any adver- 
 sary supposed that this unpretending exterior indi- 
 cated a mind of ordinary calibre, he very soon 
 changed his opinion. Massive strength, put in 
 motion by a glowing spirit, furnished a mighty 
 momentum, which struck like the sgyell of the sea 
 when stormy winds rule the waters. "Sir," he 
 
402 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 said, "by the vote contemplated by this body, and 
 solicited by this resolution, you will render it ex- 
 pedient — nay, more, you render it indispensable — 
 nay, more, you render it uncontrollably necessary that 
 a large portion of the Church — and permit me to 
 add, a portion always conformed in their views and 
 practices to the Discipline of the Church — I say 
 that by this vote you render it indispensably, ay, 
 uncontrollably necessary, that that portion of the 
 Church should — I dread to pronounce the word, 
 but you understand me. Yes, sir, you create an 
 uncontrollable necessity that there should be a dis- 
 connection of that large portion of the Church from 
 your body. It is not because there are prejudices 
 waked up by unceasing agitation, year after year, 
 in opposition to the spirit and language of the 
 Discipline, but it arises out of the established laws 
 of society — from a state of things under the control 
 of political and civil government, which no minister 
 of the gospel can control or influence in the smallest 
 degree. If you press this action in the mildest 
 form in which you approach the Bishop, you will 
 throw every minister in the South hors du combat ; 
 you will cut us off from all connection with masters 
 and servants ; and will leave us no option — God is 
 my witness that I speak with all sincerity of pur- 
 pose toward you — but to be disconnected with your 
 body. If such necessity exists on your part to 
 drive this man from his office, w T e reassert that 
 this must be th^ result of your action in this matter. 
 We have no will, no choice in the thing. It 
 
SPEECH IN BP. ANDREW'S CASE. 403 
 
 comes upon us as destiny; it comes with over- 
 whelming force ; and all we can do is to submit to 
 it." 
 
 These passages were delivered with the true De- 
 mosthenean force. The irrepressible emotion, the 
 "erect countenance/' the flashing eye, and ringing 
 voice, the unfaltering prediction* of consequences 
 that were to follow, and resound through all Me- 
 thodist history, made the speech memorable. 
 
 Dr. Capers spoke at the close of the twelve days' 
 debate. In many respects, he was the antithesis 
 of Dr. Winans. Fine finish in face, dress, de- 
 livery; perfect command of voice and emotion; 
 refinement of manner, and charm of grace and 
 urbanity ; keenness of intellect, and a firm hold on 
 the respect and kind feelings of the whole assem- 
 bly — all these combined elements gave him a favor- 
 able position, even at the close of a prolonged and 
 exciting debate. From the posture of parties, there 
 was no ground of hope left to any Southern mem- 
 ber that the contemplated measures could be ar- 
 rested. No vote could be changed by argument or 
 persuasion. It was rather to the whole country — 
 to posterity, that the appeal was felt to be made. 
 
 The first point Dr. Capers made was in respect 
 to the unity of the Church. His argument was in 
 substance this : Bishop Andrew is under arrest as 
 a slaveholder, because thereby he has made it im- 
 possible for himself to exercise in the non-slave- 
 holding States his Episcopal functions. Very 
 well. You maintain that a General Conference is 
 
404 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the supreme power in the Church, to which the 
 Bishops are subordinate and responsible. How 
 absurd is the clamor against a slaveholding Bishop, 
 as a contamination upon a part of the Church, 
 when the General Conference itself includes slave- 
 holders, who thus, by the very unity of the Church, 
 connect these immaculate Conferences inextricably 
 with "the great-evil!" " Yes, sir," he said, "they 
 and I are brethren, whether they will or no. The 
 same holy hands have been laid upon their heads 
 and upon my head. The same vows which they 
 have taken, I have taken. At the same altar where 
 they minister, do I minister; and with the same 
 words mutually on our tongues. We are the same 
 ministry, of the same Church ; not like, but identi- 
 cal. Are they Elders ? So am I. Spell the word. 
 There is not a letter in it which they dare deny me. 
 Take their measure. I am just as high as they are, 
 and they are as low as I am. We are not one 
 ministry for the North, and another ministry for 
 the South ; but one and one only, for the whole 
 Church." 
 
 It could not have made his argument more 
 conclusive or irresistible, had he added, that by 
 virtue of this same unity and connectionalism of 
 the Church, he, a slaveholder, had himself been 
 called on by Northern as well as Southern votes to 
 represent the entire American Methodist Church, 
 a few years previously, before the British Wes- 
 leyan Conference. Had the lapse of these few 
 years altered the immutable law of Christian morals, 
 
SPEECH IN BP. ANDREW'S CASE. 405 
 
 and made that to be wrong to-day which was per- 
 fectly right then ? 
 
 After a brief examination of the new doctrine 
 which had been improvised to cover the approach- 
 ing action, that, namely, which held Bishops to be 
 merely officers of the General Conference, liable to 
 be set aside as class-leaders, at the mere pleasure 
 of a majority, and showing what a solemn farce 
 the consecration service would become on such a 
 supposition, Dr. Capers went on to exhibit the 
 unconstitutionality of the contemplated proceeding. 
 He maintained that whatever else the Constitution 
 of the Church might be, it must first be Christian, 
 and secondly, Protestant, and thirdly, consistent 
 with the great object for which the Methodist 
 Church was raised up, to spread scriptural holiness 
 over these lands. In elaborating this last point, he 
 showed how the proceedings against the Bishop 
 must impede the course of the ministry in many of 
 the States, and debar access altogether to large 
 portions of the colored population. Pie was now 
 approaching a point of view where, from the very 
 office he had held under the General Conference 
 for the last four years — that of Missionary Secre- 
 tary for the South — he was entitled to speak with 
 the highest authority. If any man in America 
 could be supposed to be well informed on this sub- 
 ject, Dr. Capers was that man. And what was his 
 testimony? " Never, never," said he, "have I suf- 
 fered, as in view of the evil which this measure 
 threatens against the South. The agitation has 
 
406 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 begun there ; and I tell you that though our hearts 
 were to be torn from our bodies, it could avail 
 nothing when once you have awakened the feeling 
 that we cannot be trusted among the slaves. Once you 
 have done this, you have effectually destroyed us. I could 
 wish to die sooner than live to see such a day. As 
 sure as you live, there are tens of thousands, nay, 
 hundreds of thousands, whose destiny may be 
 perilled by your decision on this case. "When we 
 tell you that we preach to a hundred thousand 
 slaves in our missionary field, we only announce 
 the beginning of our work — the beginning openings 
 of the door of access to the most numerous masses 
 of slaves in the South. When we add that there 
 are two hundred thousand now within our reach 
 who have no gospel unless we give it to them, it is 
 still but the same announcement of the beginnings 
 of the opening of that wide and effectual door, 
 which was so long closed, and so lately has begun 
 to be opened, for the preaching of the gospel by 
 our ministry, to a numerous and destitute portion 
 of the people. 0 close not this door ! Shut us 
 not out from this great work, to which we have 
 been so signally called of God." 
 
 In this strain he went on to the conclusion of his 
 speech. Had it been within the possibility of 
 human agency to close or bridge the gulf of separa- 
 tion which yawned between the Northern and 
 Southern sections of the Church, this fervid, tell- 
 ing, and powerful appeal to the Christian prin- 
 ciples and emotions of the majority, must have 
 
speech in bp. Andrew's case. 407 
 
 done it. Were they not the very men, by eminence, 
 who were clamoring about the civil and social con- 
 dition of the negro population of the Southern 
 States ? But were they not, also, the very preachers 
 whose business it w^as to ask the question, "What 
 shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole 
 world, and lose his own soul?" Was it possible 
 that these men cared nothing, for the souls of the 
 negroes ? Swallowed up, as some of them no 
 doubt were, in the abstractions of a fanaticism 
 which was blind to all spiritual and eternal inter- 
 ests ; and hardened as some of them possibly were 
 by the hypocritical cant of abolitionism, there was 
 yet enough of sound Christianity among the major- 
 ity of that General Conference, to feel the force of 
 those considerations — irresistible to a good man — 
 which in so touching a style this speech had set 
 before them. Why, then, did they carry out the 
 measure objected to on such weighty considera- 
 tions? The answer is, that all considerate men 
 among them saw that the time had come for a 
 separation. They meant to meet the emergency 
 with a steady determination to do justice to the 
 claims of that portion of the Church represented 
 by the minority. Subsequent acts show that they 
 are entitled to the justification found alone in such 
 a determination. 
 
 Dr. Few, of Georgia, whose want of health had 
 deprived the South of his important services as a 
 delegate, upon reading Dr. Capers's speech, made 
 
408 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the following remark: "I would be willing to risk 
 the w^hole cause upon that speech alone, with every 
 sound-minded, unprejudiced man, although he 
 should be required to read all that was said on the 
 opposite side." 
 
 This speech was made on Thursday, May 30th. 
 The Bishops requested that no afternoon session 
 should be held, in order that they might have time 
 for a consultation, in the hope that a compromise 
 might yet be effected. On the next day the result 
 of this consultation was presented in a communi- 
 cation recommending a postponement of further 
 action in Bishop Andrew's case until the ensuing 
 General Conference. This forlorn-hope proposition 
 came to nothing ; and on the day following, June 
 1st, the vote was taken, and Mr. Finley's resolution 
 was adopted — one hundred and eleven members 
 voting in the affirmative, and sixty-nine in the 
 negative. 
 
 Dr. L. Pierce then rose and gave notice that a 
 protest would be presented against the action of 
 the majority, by the Southern delegations. This 
 masterly paper was drawn up and read by Dr. 
 Bascom. On Monday, June 3, Dr. Capers intro- 
 duced a series of resolutions recommending the 
 Annual Conferences to suspend the constitutional 
 restrictions, so as to allow the existence of two 
 General Conferences, one for the States North, and 
 one for the States in which slavery exists. These 
 were referred to a committee of nine, who reported 
 
PLAN OF SEPARATION. 
 
 409 
 
 on the 5th that they could not agree upon any thing 
 which they judged would be acceptable to the Con- 
 ference. 
 
 Dr. Longstreet then, in behalf of the Southern 
 and South-western Conferences, presented the fol- 
 lowing declaration : " The delegates of the Con- 
 ferences in the slaveholding States take leave to 
 declare to the General Conference of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, that the continued agitation of 
 the subject of slavery and abolition in a portion of 
 the Church, the frequent action on that subject in 
 the General Conference, and especially the extra- 
 judicial proceedings against Bishop Andrew, which 
 resulted, on Saturday last, in the virtual suspension 
 of him from his office as Superintendent, must 
 produce a state of things in the South which ren- 
 ders a continuance of the jurisdiction of that Gen- 
 eral Conference over these Conferences inconsistent 
 with the success of the ministry in the slavehold- 
 ing States." 
 
 This declaration was then referred to a committee 
 of nine, Dr. Paine, of Tennessee, being chairman. 
 They were instructed by a formal resolution to de- 
 vise, if possible, a constitutional plan for a mutual 
 and friendly division of the Church, provided they 
 could not devise a plan for an amicable adjustment 
 of the difficulties existing on the subject of slavery. 
 
 The next day Dr. Paine brought in a Plan of 
 Separation, which allowed the Annual Confer- 
 ences in the slaveholding States to unite in a dis- 
 tinct ecclesiastical connection, should they find it 
 18 
 
410 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS 
 
 necessary ; and which fixed the territorial limits of 
 the Churches North and South ; allowed ministers 
 of every grade to determine their ecclesiastical 
 connection ; gave up to the Southern organization 
 all rights of property in meeting-houses, parson- 
 ages, colleges, schools, Conference funds, cemeteries, 
 and the like ; and provided for the fair division of 
 the Book Concern as soon as the Annual Confer- 
 ences should remove the restriction on the powers 
 of the General Conference to do so. This plan 
 evidently made the Southern Conferences judges 
 of the necessity of division, an (J referred but a 
 single point — that of the pro rata division of the 
 Book Concern — to the whole body of Annual 
 Conferences. The unanimity with which this great 
 scheme of separation was voted by the General 
 Conference, was alike honorable to the judgments 
 and hearts of the majority. There is no doubt 
 that, under the provisions of this plan of separa- 
 tion, the Southern organization would have been 
 amicably carried through, and the Book Concern 
 fund divided without an appeal to legal tribunals, 
 had the official journal of the Northern Church 
 adopted a pacific and conciliatory policy. Unfor- 
 tunately, this organ, so powerful for moulding pub- 
 lic opinion, was in the hands of a person wholly 
 unsuited to the emergency. To great and ac- 
 knowledged ability, there was united in his charac- 
 ter an overweening sense of self-importance. He 
 was the Palinurus who could steer the ship through 
 storm and shoal. lie would maintain the unity 
 
LEGAL DECISION. 
 
 411 
 
 and integrity of the Church, all the Hotspurs of the 
 South to the contrary notwithstanding. The paper 
 conducted by him circulated extensively in the 
 South : he would make its influence there more 
 powerful to control opinion than the united influ- 
 ence of the representatives of the Southern Con- 
 ferences ; more powerful than the sense of injury 
 among a high-spirited people, impatient of foreign 
 interference and dictation in their domestic con- 
 cerns. It is needless to add that a signal failure 
 followed all these vain conceits. The only success 
 accomplished was a defeat of the measure proposed 
 in respect to a division of the Book Concern. And, 
 notwithstanding the vigorous attempts of this press 
 to fix the odium of secession upon the Southern 
 Church, which would invalidate their just claim 
 to a portion of the common fund, the Northern 
 Conferences, by an affirmative vote of one thousand 
 one hundred and sixty-four against one thousand 
 and sixty-seven in the negative, expressed their 
 sense of the righteousness of the Southern claim. 
 There lacked but two hundred and sixty-nine votes 
 to make up the constitutional majority of two- 
 thirds requisite to alter the restrictive rule. The 
 courts of law subsequently, as it is well known, 
 gave the Southern Church w r hat was due to it. 
 The opinion was expressed by one of the eminent 
 legal gentlemen who managed the case for the 
 Southern Commissioners, that whatever took place 
 afterward, through mischiefs growing out of the press, 
 the General Conference, when it agreed to the 
 
412 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 division, did it harmoniously, kindly, and in the 
 expectation of a kind communion afterward. And 
 mischief, and nothing but mischief, grew out of 
 the unhappy course of the press aforementioned. 
 It reminds one of the fisherman in the Arabian 
 story, whose persevering industry first fished up a 
 basket of slime, and then the carcass of an ass, 
 and finally dragged out a malevolent genie, that 
 was potent enough for harm. 
 
 Dr. Capers was appointed, at the ensuing session 
 of the South Carolina Conference, Superintendent 
 of the missions to the blacks in Georgia, Alabama, 
 and South Carolina ; and elected a delegate to the 
 Convention held at Louisville, Kentucky, at which 
 the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was or- 
 ganized. As Chairman of the Committee on Mis- 
 sions, he drew up a circular letter, to be sent by 
 the Convention to all the churches of the new 
 Connection, forcibly presenting the claims of that 
 important department under the new aspects which 
 had opened upon Southern Methodism. He also 
 wrote the Pastoral Address — a paper admirable in 
 its tone, and equal to the occasion, yet inculcating 
 the purest spirit of peace and love, and breathing 
 the warmest attachment to the doctrines and dis- 
 cipline, the economy and usages of primitive Ameri- 
 can Methodism. 
 
ORDAINED BISHOP. 
 
 413 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Elected and ordained Bishop — First tour of Episcopal visitations — 
 Travels through the border territory of the Virginia Conference. 
 
 At the close of the year 1845 Dr. Capers was 
 stationed at Columbia. Here, at the request of the 
 South Carolina Conference, he revised the catechism 
 for the use of the negro missions which he had 
 prepared some years previously, adding a second 
 part, comprehending a brief outline of the history 
 of redemption. This was submitted to the Com- 
 mittee on Missions at the General Conference at 
 Petersburg, and adopted by the Conference, and 
 ordered to be introduced into the missions generally. 
 
 In the spring of 1846 he attended the session of 
 the first General Conference of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, South. On the 7th of May, he 
 and Dr. R. Paine were elected Bishops. On the 
 14th they were consecrated to their high and holy 
 office. At 12 o'clock the interesting solemnity 
 took place, at the Washington Street Church. 
 Bishop Andrew opened the service by singing the 
 463d hymn, commencing, 
 
 " Saviour of men, thy searching eye 
 Doth all my inmost thoughts descry : 
 Doth aught on earth my wishes raise, 
 Or the world's pleasure, or its praise ? 
 
414 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 " The love of Christ dotli me constrain 
 To seek the wandering souls of men ; 
 With cries, entreaties, tears, to save, 
 To snatch them from the gaping grave." 
 
 After extemporaneous prayer, the Bisliops-elect 
 were presented, Dr. Capers by Dr. Pierce, and Dr. 
 Paine by Mr. Early. The Collect, Epistle, and 
 Gospel were read by Bishop Andrew ; the questions 
 to- the Bishops-elect were proposed by Bishop Soule, 
 who, together with Bishop Andrew and the elders 
 presenting, laid their hands upon the heads of the 
 Bishops-elect, with the consecrating formula. The 
 Bible was then delivered to them with the accom- 
 panying charge. The benediction, preceded by 
 suitable prayers, closed the solemn service. 
 
 The following letter written to Mrs. Capers on 
 the occasion will be read with interest: "I left 
 you for the General Conference not knowing what 
 was before me. None of the brethren in our quar- 
 ter had spoken to me, none from a distance had 
 written to me, about my being put into the Epis- 
 copacy ; and after I came here, up to the hour of 
 the election, the subject was scarcely named except 
 in the most incidental manner. I thought not of 
 being made Bishop. The result took me by 
 surprise. And I am glad that it was so sudden, 
 for the very suddenness of it made it more effectual 
 to rouse me to (what I trust humbly in God's 
 mercy may prove) the final conflict. All or 
 nothing, now and for life, come what may, to me 
 and mine, seemed to be the question involved ; and 
 
FITNESS FOR THE EPISCOPACY. 415 
 
 thank God, I felt that however low my spirit had 
 been depressed in past conflicts, struggling with 
 adversity, I was still Christian enough, and Chris- 
 tian minister enough, to decide without hesitancy. 
 Indeed, you know that in all the past, the bitter- 
 ness of the cup has never been so much the amount 
 of difficulties I have had to contend with, as that 
 cruel, insupportable insinuation that those diffi- 
 culties were on account of the Lord's controversy 
 with me for having once yielded to temptation and 
 left the work. I felt that the favor of God and the 
 confidence of the Church was our best estate, and 
 best patrimony for our children ; and whether or 
 not, I dare not, I would not draw back. To-day I 
 feel that we all are on the altar together ; and 0, 
 have I not felt that 6 the altar sanctifieth the gift?' 
 I have only to cast all my care on God, all my 
 multiform unworthiness on his Divine goodness 
 and condescension in Christ, and go on. I have 
 so reverenced the work and office of a Bishop and 
 the Bishops themselves, that that itself embarrasses 
 me. I cannot feel myself a Bishop ; but, thank 
 God, I feel what is better — an abiding sense of 
 being accepted of him, in an humble and sincere 
 devotion of myself, without stint, to his service." 
 
 It was highly honorable to Dr. Capers that he 
 should have been elected in the manner just related. 
 His high character, his known devotion to the 
 itinerant ministry, and his past services, rendered 
 unnecessary the slightest effort on the part of his 
 friends to secure his election. It is no wonder, 
 
416 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 indeed, that the thing should have taken him by 
 surprise, for his unaffected humility led him to 
 consider many of his brethren more suitable for 
 the office than himself. Such a self- estimate, 
 among all right-minded men, is the unfailing con- 
 comitant of that class of abilities required for the 
 peculiarly difficult and delicate functions of a 
 Methodist Bishop. What minister of Christ, 
 properly aware of the responsibilities attached to 
 the Episcopal office in the Methodist Church, and 
 especially if surrounded by the endearments of the 
 family circle, would not unhesitatingly say, nolo 
 episcopari, if the matter were left to his own choice ? 
 Bishop Paine was called, by the plan of visitation 
 adopted at the time he was made Bishop, to a 
 seven months' absence from home, one brief visit 
 excepted. Surely no honor attached to the office, 
 apart from the constraint of imperative duty, could 
 be an equivalent for self-sacrifice of this kind. 
 
 The plan of Episcopal visitations assigned to 
 Bishop Capers the Holston, Virginia, North Caro- 
 lina, Georgia, South Carolina, and Florida Con- 
 ferences, as his first tour. These visitations 
 occupied him from October to February. The 
 Holston Conference was held at Wytheville, Ya. 
 Leaving home late in September, he passed through 
 Asheville, down the French Broad, and attended 
 a camp-meeting at Parrottsville, Tenn. " The 
 meeting," he says, "was a good one, the number 
 of conversions above forty, and of persons joining 
 the Church, fifty. The French Broad has been 
 
GEORGE WELLS. 
 
 417 
 
 celebrated for its scenery by all who have travelled 
 along its rocky shores ; but I esteem the scenery 
 which now and then opens to the traveller along 
 the road I have travelled since I left the French 
 Broad, much more delightful. On the French 
 Broad, every thing is bold and rugged, but you 
 are always shut in to a scene of the same general 
 features, without any extensive view — the water 
 hurrying along down its rocky bed at your feet, 
 and the high hills closely shutting up the prospect. 
 But there are spots, coming from Parrottsville to 
 Col. Earnest's, beyond Greensville, where I now 
 am, at which you see on the right hand, south- 
 eastwardly, eastwardly, andnorth-eastwardly, ranges 
 of mountains lying at all distances, from five 
 to thirty miles ; while on the left hand an im- 
 mense valley of meadow-lands and hills, along 
 the Nollichucky river, opens as far as you can see, 
 with mountains at great distances diversifying the 
 scene with exquisite pictures of the bosom of 
 nature. There is no country in America so fine as 
 this for its natural scenery ; and the lands are very 
 rich. Nor have you to climb to the tops of moun- 
 tains to enjoy the prospects I have alluded to. All 
 the country between different ranges of mountains 
 is called a valley, though it may be as uneven as 
 Newton county, Qa. ; and along any line of road 
 passing through a valley you will be almost always 
 in view of some mountain-range, and frequently of 
 several ranges at various distances. Three nights 
 ago, I stayed with George Wells, and the next day 
 18* 
 
418 
 
 LIEE OE WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 mot with. Stephen Brooks, of the first generation 
 of Methodist preachers. Brooks began travelling 
 in 1789, and Wells a year or two after. At the 
 house of old brother Wells I was at one of the 
 resting-places of Bishop Asbnry, and one at which 
 he stopped in the tour when I first met with him, 
 after I had commenced the work of the itinerant 
 ministry." 
 
 On this route, Bishop Capers visited Emory and 
 Henry College, and was so much pleased that he 
 wrote a highly complimentary notice of the insti- 
 tution for the columns of the Southern Christian 
 Advocate. Thence he went to Abingdon, and 
 reached Wytheville, the seat of the Holston Con- 
 ference, almost oppressed with the kind and con- 
 stant attentions shown him. After the session of 
 the Conference he spent a day or two with Mrs. 
 Preston, the daughter of Major Hart, an old 
 Columbia friend. 
 
 From Wytheville he crossed the mountains and 
 went to Mecklenburg county, where the Virginia 
 Conference was held, at Randolph Macon College. 
 Of these two Conferences he says: "I have been 
 much blessed in my official labors, and am bound 
 more than ever to devote myself to them. During 
 the Conferences, both at Wytheville and Randolph 
 Macon, I have enjoyed uncommon serenity and 
 elevation of mind. God has blessed me with the 
 light of his countenance, and the preachers have 
 treated me with the most affectionate kindness. " 
 
 After attending the North Carolina Conference 
 
EPISCOPAL VISITATIONS. 
 
 419 
 
 at ITewbern, lie reached home about the middle of 
 December, and spent a day or two with his family. 
 The Georgia Conference convened at Macon, 
 December 23d; the session was a very pleasant 
 one under the presidency of Bishop Capers. After 
 holding the South Carolina Conference at Charles- 
 ton, he left early in February for Quincy, the seat 
 of the Florida Conference. On his way he spent 
 several days at the house of his old and honored 
 friend, Mr. Charles Munnerlyn, where he w T as 
 kindly cared for after a very fatiguing journey. 
 This was made in a leaky, half-curtained hack, 
 inflicting on him extreme exposure in bad weather, 
 and bringing on in a short time great stricture of 
 the respiratory organs, and inflammation of the 
 bronchia. He sulfered at times extremely from 
 this attack, for two years, when in the spring of 
 1849, by God's gracious providence, and without 
 the least instrumentality of human means, he was 
 relieved of it. 
 
 After a pleasant and profitable session of the 
 Florida Conference, he spent a Sunday in Talla- 
 hassee, and another in Madison, Florida, being 
 accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Michau, who had 
 tendered the Bishop a seat in his buggy. He 
 reached Charleston about the middle of March, 
 having spent nearly seven months in this first 
 round of Episcopal visitations. His family were 
 shortly after removed to a commodious residence 
 hi the upper part of the city, which had been put 
 at his service by the kindness of his friends. 
 
420 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS, 
 
 The Virginia Conference lay within Bishop Ca- 
 pers' s district during the year 1847. Excitement 
 was running high in the 66 border" circuits, and it 
 was thought desirable that he should travel through 
 them. A special invitation having been sent him, 
 he set out on a visit to that part of Virginia on the 
 18th May. The following diary gives an account 
 of his movements : 
 
 "At Wilmington, May 19, several brethren were 
 waiting my arrival at the wharf. It was arranged 
 that I should stay with brother Thomas Smith. 
 Preached at night; some forty mourners at the 
 altar, and several conversions. Prayer-meeting 
 next morning. After preaching at night, a still 
 greater number at the altar than the night before, 
 and several converted. Got to Richmond early 
 Saturday morning, May 22. Preached twice on 
 Sunday. Attended the Sunday-school celebration 
 of the Centenary and Clay street Sunday-schools 
 on Monday. Left Richmond by the railroad to 
 Gordonsville. 26th, preached at night Thurs- 
 day, carried over roads rough enough, fourteen 
 miles to Col. J. Walker's ; dined and was sent in 
 his carriage to Madison Court-house. Preached at 
 night. Friday, at 2 o'clock, got on a smooth-walk- 
 ing pony, for the enterprise of over the mountain 
 on horseback. Nine miles got me to brother B. 
 Conway's, where dismissed the pony, and got Kate, 
 a pleasant, never-tiring nag. Rode on nine miles 
 farther, over hills and little mountains, to brother 
 S. Kennedy's. Saturday morning, set out early, 
 
WESTEKN VIRGINIA. 
 
 421 
 
 (rocks, rocks,) and went over the Blue Ridge, by 
 Swift-Run gap, to the Quarterly Meeting at Elk 
 Run, fifteen or sixteen miles, and right to preach- 
 ing. Less tired after the preaching than before. 
 Preaching and sacrament on Sunday. Monday, 31st, 
 to Harrisonburg, twenty miles, and preached at 
 night. Again at 11 A. M., and at night Tuesday. 
 On Wednesday rode Kate Conway to my friend 
 Jennings's, at Elk Run, twenty miles, to dinner; 
 and after dinner, over the Blue Ridge, and one or 
 two spurs of mountains on the eastern side, to 
 brother McMullan's. He computes the distance 
 from Harrisonburg at thirty-eight miles — mind that 
 — thirty-eight miles on horseback, crossing the Blue 
 Ridge, and a mountain cliff besides, and the miles 
 none of the shortest. Thursday, June 3d, nine 
 miles to Wolftown, alias, Trinity Church, and 
 preached. A piece of cold ham and bread after 
 preaching, and then off fifteen miles to Col. James 
 "Walker's, to preach at 5 o'clock P. M. Friday, left 
 Col. Walker's at 7J A. M. Got to Culpepper 
 Court-house to dinner, and after dinner on to the 
 White Sulphur Springs. I feel as comfortably as I 
 could wish ; thanks to the best riding nag I ever 
 rode; thanks to the mountain air; thanks to the 
 ever-varied scenery of mountain and meadows, and 
 w T ide-spreading prospects over hills and dales, 
 covered with wheat fields and clover ; thanks to the 
 sweet-singing birds ; and, above all, thanks to Him 
 who is in all, and over all, and above all. Kate 
 Conway and the saddlebags in preference to rail- 
 
422 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 roads, steamboats, or stages, for a Bisliop at liis 
 work. 
 
 " Preached twice on Sabbath at Warrenton, 
 Fauquier county. On Monday rode some thirteen 
 miles to a small town called Salem, and preached, 
 and afterwards rode as much farther to the resi- 
 dence of Dr. Taliaferro, just under the Blue Ridge. 
 Tuesday: preached at Farrowsville, two miles this 
 side of the Doctor's ; dined with a fine lady, Mrs. 
 Ashb}^, with a large company ; and after dinner 
 rode on to sister Carter's, below Salem. Nine 
 miles on Wednesday morning brought me to Bethel, 
 where, after preaching, I dined with an excellent 
 brother named Blackwell. Here, too, we had some 
 twenty people to dinner; and after they had dined 
 and seen the Bishop, I rode to "Warrenton, where I 
 had an appointment, and preached at night. The 
 congregations at every place have been large. The 
 whole of this circuit adhered South last year, and 
 its present preachers were sent from the Virginia 
 Conference. JSTo wonder that the Baltimore 
 preachers feel sore. To lose such a country, and 
 such a people ! and with the aggravation of know- 
 ing that the loss is to be continually increasing, till 
 all this fine portion of the Old Dominion has ad- 
 hered South. June 10th I left Warrenton with my 
 amiable travelling companion, Dr. Buckner, for 
 Fredericksburg, being still mounted on the incom- 
 parable Kate Conway. Passed the night at the 
 residence of one of the best specimens of a saintly 
 old Methodist lady, in one of the best specimens 
 
madison's birthplace. 
 
 423 
 
 of an old-time cottage-house, with a bower before it 
 of all sorts of vines, and every tiling in it as sim- 
 ple and sweet as purity itself might desire. June 
 11, reached Fredericksburg, which still belongs to 
 the Baltimore Conference. Put up at Sanford's 
 United States Hotel. 
 
 " The next morning, Saturday, left Fredericks- 
 burg at 6 o'clock, in the steamboat Planter. Fare- 
 well to my good Kate Conway. At 9 o'clock 
 reached Port Conway, having first touched at Port 
 Royal, where Dr. Penn, Presiding Elder of Eich- 
 mond District, met me, with whom I travelled very 
 cleverly in his two-horse barouche, over fine, smooth 
 roads. Our first meeting was for that day and 
 Sunday, and was continued Monday, at a church 
 six miles north-east from Port Conway. This Port 
 Conway is little more than a stopping-place where 
 the boats take in wood ; but it is notable for the 
 fact that Mr. Madison was born there. The spot 
 where the house stood in which he was born was 
 pointed out to me in an oat-field, about two hundred 
 yards from the landing-place, and quite near the road 
 leading up from the landing-place. I say the spot 
 and not the house was pointed out, for there was 
 no vestige of the house remaining. It is remarka- 
 ble that Washington, Madison, and Monroe were 
 born in the same county — Westmoreland : though 
 that county being afterwards divided, the new 
 county, King George, took in the birthplace of 
 Madison. Here, too, in Westmoreland lived Henry 
 Lee, the great colonel of cavalry, to whom South 
 
424 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Carolina in particular was so much indebted in the 
 Revolutionary war. Col. Lee's place was on the 
 Potomac, and called Stratford Hall. 
 
 " Saturday, Sunday, and Monday I preached at 
 the Union Church, King George county, mentioned 
 above, and Sunday night went across the Rappa- 
 hannock and preached in the clever little town of 
 Port Royal, opposite to Port Conway. Tuesday, 
 preached at Oak Grove, eight miles east from Union. 
 Wednesday, at Westmoreland Court-house. Thurs- 
 day, at Bethel, ten miles east from the Court-house. 
 Saturday and Sunday, attended a Quarterly Meet- 
 ing at Henderson's Chapel. Monday, 21st, rode 
 thirty miles, or more, to Rehoboth, in Lancaster 
 county, and preached there on Tuesday, and on 
 Wednesday at White Chapel, in the same county. 
 Congregations have been very large at all my ap- 
 pointments, and the friends where I have stayed on 
 my route kind and affectionate. There is no por- 
 tion of Virginia, or of our whole territory, more 
 interesting than this border territory: a fertile and 
 beautiful country, and exceedingly well peopled." 
 
 Bishop Capers reached home early in July from 
 this tour of vigorous and successful labors. His 
 account of it reminds one of the palmiest days of 
 Francis Asbury and John Wesley. Really, for a 
 man at his time of life, troubled with asthma 
 occasionally, this was severe work. But there 
 never was any lack of the " go-ahead" principle in 
 Dr. Capers. His friend, Dr. Olin, once said of him, 
 that he could do more hard work than any man of 
 
"AS MUCH AS IN ME IS." 
 
 425 
 
 his acquaintance. Those who knew him best 
 knew that he needed no spur. He was, con- 
 sequently, a little exposed to over-action when 
 abroad among strangers. He had reached a period 
 when there was a considerable diminution of 
 strength to " endure hardness," while at the same 
 time there was no sensible decline of manly spirit. 
 His motto was, "As much as in me is;" and he 
 never knew when that much had been expended, 
 while he still had spirit enough to go on. 
 
426 
 
 LIFE 0 F WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Second tour of visitations — The far W est — Travels through the In- 
 dian Territory, Arkansas, Texas. 
 
 Bishop Capers's second tour of Episcopal visita- 
 tions embraced a period of nearly five months, and 
 reached from the Missouri river to Texas, taking in 
 the Indian Mission Conference. He left Charleston 
 September 9th, and reached Wheeling on the 16th. 
 The Ohio river was low, and he was compelled to 
 take passage in a small steamer of light draught, 
 into which more than a hundred passengers were 
 crowded. A tedious and uncomfortable passage 
 got him to Louisville, Kentucky, too late to take 
 part in the annua] meeting of the Bishops and 
 Mission Committee. As cold weather came on, his 
 health began to droop somewhat, and asthma 
 showed itself. By low water he was compelled to 
 take stage to St. Louis. This involved incessant 
 travelling during three days and two nights entire; 
 and he reached St. Louis on the 25th September. 
 The fatigue was too much for him, and he found 
 it advisable to lie up for a day or two, at the resi- 
 dence of his nephew, the Rev. Thomas IT. Capers. 
 On the 28th he set out in a light travelling wagon, 
 
IN MISSOURI. 
 
 427 
 
 with his nephew and the Presiding Elder of the 
 district, for Glasgow, the seat of the Missouri Con- 
 ference, distant one hundred and seventy-five miles. 
 He stood the drive, rough as it was occasionally, 
 very well, and arrived in time to attend to the ordi- 
 nation services on Sunday. At this Conference five 
 preachers were admitted into the travelling connec- 
 tion, and fifty-one stationed. 
 
 The Conference adjourned October 7th, and he 
 preached at Boonsville, twenty miles below Glas- 
 gow, on the Missouri river, the next night. From 
 this town, accompanied by Dr. Boyle and his 
 nephew, he set out for the St. Louis Conference. 
 They spent Sunday at Warsaw ; and before leaving 
 next morning, the Bishop bought a saddle, bridle, 
 and other equipments for horseback travelling, at 
 the close of the approaching Conference. On Tues- 
 day afternoon, our travellers reached Ebenezer 
 camp-ground, in Greene county, Missouri, where 
 Bishop Capers opened the session of Conference 
 next morning. Asthma had been troubling him ; 
 but the fine weather on those broad prairie lands 
 was continually improving his health. He preached 
 on Sunday to a great concourse of people, and 
 ordained both the deacons and elders, being en- 
 gaged two hours and a half in the whole service, 
 and feeling no particular harm from his exertioils. 
 After a short and very agreeable session, the Con- 
 ference adjourned on Monday night. The Bishop 
 bought a horse — not quite a Kate Conway, how- 
 ever; sent his trunk back to St. Louis to be for- 
 
428 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 warded to New Orleans ; and once more in the 
 saddle, felt almost young again. Brother Joplin, 
 one of the preachers, was his travelling companion, 
 to whose kind attentions he felt himself much in- 
 debted. 
 
 Leaving the camp-ground on Tuesday morning, 
 he preached that night at Springfield to a crowded 
 house, and passed the night in a luxurious man- 
 sion, with a family of well-bred people, in the 
 Ozark Mountains. Thirty miles the next day 
 brought him to his stopping-place — an open house, 
 and not much of it. Another thirty miles made 
 the journey of Thursday. During the morning 
 the wind at south made the weather too warm for 
 an overcoat: at four o'clock P. M., a sudden puff 
 from the north-west changed the temperature to 
 winter in an instant. There being rain the next 
 day, and the weather very cold, our travellers did 
 not start until afternoon, and failed to reach the 
 town of Fayetteville on Sunday. On Monday, 
 however, on getting into the town at eleven o'clock, 
 the Bishop found that he had to stop and preach, a 
 large congregation being in waiting. This led to 
 a further detention for dinner ; so that it was three 
 o'clock P. M. before he got again on the road. 
 Comfortable quarters that night. The next day 
 they were done with the Ozark Mountains. " It 
 makes me stiff and sore," says the Bishop, "to 
 make a day's ride on horseback; but the night re- 
 freshes me, and the morning finds me ready to 
 renew my toil." Passed through Van Buren — a 
 
INDIAN MISSION CONFERENCE. 429 
 
 town on the Arkansas river, five miles from the 
 Indian line — on the 26th. Thence to Fort Coffee 
 Mission Station, a beautiful situation, on a high 
 hill, immediately over the river Arkansas, eight or 
 ten miles west of the State of Arkansas. He had 
 time to spend only a night here, and was struck 
 with the supper-scene. " The custom is to have 
 family prayer at supper. Supper on table, the boys, 
 fifty in number, were all seated with their faces 
 outward when we went in. I read a short lesson, 
 sang a hymn with them, and prayed ; after which 
 grace was said, and supper dispatched." 
 
 From Fort Coffee, Bishop Capers set off the next 
 morning under the escort of some half-dozen agree- 
 able preachers, who were on the way to the seat of 
 the Indian Mission Conference, one hundred and 
 fifty miles distant. Hardships here and there — a 
 supper not to be described — a breakfast which 
 made some of the company leave the table, as 
 though stricken with sea-sickness ; farther on, a 
 fine turkey cut up into bits, and boiled until all 
 taste is lost, and the pieces served at table to be 
 eateD with corn-bread ; boiled pork, fresh from the 
 knife, without salt — (evidently there are few M. 
 Soyers to preside at the Indian cuisine ;) and then, 
 the condition of things here and there suggesting, 
 on going to bed, the danger of getting up with the 
 itch! — all this to the contrary, our good Bishop 
 goes on, stage after stage, improving in health, and 
 in the best spirits, until, arriving at Doaksville, the 
 seat of the Conference, he finds excellent quarters at 
 
430 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 the house of an Indian widow lady, where he sleeps 
 on downy pillows, in a mahogany bedstead, sur- 
 rounded by all the appliances of high civiliza- 
 tion. 
 
 The Indian Mission Conference was composed 
 of 'thirty-three preachers, thirteen of whom were 
 Indians. Some of them had travelled five hundred 
 miles to attend Conference. The Bishop thus de- 
 scribes the exercises of Sunday: "I consented, at 
 the earnest desire of the brethren, to have the ordi- 
 nations and to preach, at the camp-ground, two 
 miles from Doaksville, for the greater accommoda- 
 tion of the Indian audience. The ground is an 
 area of perhaps an acre and a half, enclosed with a 
 rail fence. There is in the middle of the ground 
 a well-built roof, some forty by sixty feet, on sub- 
 stantial posts, with a shed at the pulpit end, some 
 twenty feet wide, for the negroes, and the usual 
 altar-place before the pulpit — all as with us. There 
 are eleven tents made of plank or slabs, and well 
 covered, the rest of the space being probably occu- 
 pied at camp-meetings with tents of a more mov- 
 able kind. I suppose the congregation may have 
 numbered one thousand, of whom about a hundred 
 and fifty were blacks, and about fifty whites. Pro- 
 bably half of the whole, or more, understood Eng- 
 lish well enough to understand me. Opened the 
 service with singing the 508th hymn, L. M. ; and 
 after prayer, read the 19th Psalm, and part of the 
 17th chapter of St. Luke ; verse by verse, as I read, 
 being put into Choctaw by brother Page. The 
 
P 11 E A C II I N a TO THE INDIANS. 
 
 431 
 
 text was an old one with me, but perhaps seldom 
 before so appropriate, Luke xvii. 7-10. Having 
 finished the sermon, I instantly beckoned Page to 
 my side, and addressed, by sentences, those Choc- 
 taws who had not understood my preaching. I 
 told them that never having tried to preach through 
 an interpreter, and having a great deal to say to the 
 ministers and others, I had not ventured it on that 
 occasion. But it pained my heart that I w r as not 
 able to make myself understood to them. I loved 
 them very much — prayed earnestly for them, and 
 that God would make my brethren a great blessing 
 to them — there was a world before us with one 
 language only — no need of an interpreter there — I 
 wanted them to meet me with Jesus in heaven — 
 begged them to meet me in heaven, which was open 
 by the one only Saviour for us all. The whole 
 service was good, but this last part of it was so re- 
 markably blessed that I almost regretted not 
 having gone through the whole in that way. I felt 
 intensely myself — Page could hardly interpret for 
 emotion — a venerable old Indian, Toby Chubbee, 
 shouted aloud, and the whole face of the congrega- 
 tion looked as if a new life had animated them. 
 Indeed, I thought it strange that during the whole 
 service, which lasted the usual time, the hundreds 
 present who could not understand me, remained 
 not only fixed to their seats, but seeming to give 
 close attention to all I said. May God be pleased 
 to raise fruit from it ! After the whole service was 
 concluded, and the ordination over, I went to the 
 
432 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS, 
 
 rear of the largest tent, where Mrs. Folsom, my in- 
 teresting hostess, had had a table spread, some 
 thirty feet long, with abundance of provisions of 
 her usual good quality — turkey, bacon, corned 
 pork, roast pork, etc., etc., all right Christianly cold ; 
 and having eaten heartily, came home that I might 
 rest — needing rest." 
 
 His next Conference was held at Washington, 
 Ark., from November 17th to 28d. There were 
 forty-three travelling preachers stationed, and four 
 admitted on trial. During the session he was 
 
 quartered with General R , where he was most 
 
 hospitably entertained in a family of wealth and 
 elegance. "Let me introduce you," he says, "to 
 our table. We take the supper last evening as a 
 specimen. 
 
 "Gen. R. : 'Bishop, try some of this lobster.' 
 
 " ' Thank you, General, if you will not take it to 
 be an encouragement of any extravagance. But 
 really, after clams from New Orleans, last evening, 
 have we now lobster from Boston, to our supper?' 
 
 "Gen. R., with affected gravity: 'Ah, sir, if j^ou 
 only knew how dreadful those curtain-lectures are, 
 you would understand it.' 
 
 " 'Mrs. R., I protest the General reflects on my 
 understanding by that remark. I am too old a 
 husband, and have been too often from home, not 
 to know better what induces such purchases.' 
 
 "Mrs. R., smiling with a blush: 'He need not 
 apologize for bringing me a lobster, when luxuri- 
 ating in all the good things they have at New 
 
KIND FRIENDS. 
 
 433 
 
 Orleans. It would be hard if he did not even 
 think of me.' 
 
 "Bishop: ' Yes, General, I'll take the lobster to 
 encourage that quality in you/ 
 
 " The General, helping me : ' That is the way 
 you do it in Carolina, where wives are governed 
 by their husbands ; but here in Arkansas, we just 
 do as our wives tell us/ 
 
 " 'And Mrs. R. told you to buy the lobster, did 
 she?' 
 
 " 6 No, not just that ; but I have to try and please 
 her, that's all;' and a hearty laugh ended the case 
 of the lobster. " 
 
 The Bishop describes his hostess as one of the 
 loveliest women he had ever been in company with. 
 He was a fine judge of female character; and 
 possessed the genius, the sense of the beautiful, 
 and the goodness of heart, which are necessary to 
 a proper appreciation of that somewhat mysterious 
 thing— woman-nature. "I really felt sorry," he 
 says, " to bid this kind family farewell. Not that 
 I care a fig to part with their luxurious table, but 
 themselves. Kind old Mrs. E., Mrs. R.'s mother, 
 would have me to take a pair of large woollen socks, 
 to draw over my shoes and ankles ; while R., 
 generous fellow, would examine every thing about 
 my horse-equipage, and condemned my saddle as 
 not being of the right Spanish shape, and of con- 
 sequence not so easy as it ought to be ; and whether 
 I would or no, he put his saddle on my horse, in 
 place of mine, as the only one fit to ride. I shall 
 19 
 
434 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 take it home with, me if I can get it there. The 
 tree of the saddle alone cost and is worth ten dollars.' ' 
 
 During the session, Bishop Capers preached on 
 Sunday morning, on Matt, xviii. 1-4 ; and found 
 still, as he says, " a considerably new sermon in an 
 old text. Enlarged especially on the unreserved 
 devotion to Christ, which the Christian ministry 
 demands ; the sinfulness of all selfishness ; the 
 wickedness and danger of all pride; and the indis- 
 pensable necessity of holiness, that the minister of 
 Christ, whatever his labors or character may be, 
 might be accepted, successful, and saved. After- 
 wards ordained fourteen Deacons and five Elders. 
 What a well of living water the Holy Scriptures 
 are ! The single text above contains truth enough, 
 implied or expressed, to form a safe directory and 
 guide on the way to heaven. And what a power 
 for good comes forth with the word of Christ, to 
 make the veriest babe an example for apostles; 
 while the insufficiency and nothingness of all 
 human reliance, the emptiness and vanity of the 
 most plausible of human pretensions, are made 
 manifest, in that the disciples, in the midst of the 
 benefits of Christ's ministry, fall to disputing about 
 a question of personal distinction, lag behind their 
 Master, and even come into his presence and 
 approach his person with their minds estranged, 
 and their spirits disordered to such a degree, that 
 a child might serve for their instructor." 
 
 Leaving his kind friends at Washington, the 
 Bishop put himself into his new Spanish saddle, 
 
GOING HOME. 
 
 435 
 
 and turned his face southward, towards San Au- 
 gustin, the seat of the East Texas Conference, 
 which he reached after a pleasant journey. The 
 session was a protracted and laborious one, and 
 closed on the 17th December. He stationed twenty- 
 four preachers, and one was admitted into the 
 travelling ministry. He had a slight attack of 
 fever here, taken from exposure ; but it quickly 
 yielded to treatment prescribed by himself — boneset- 
 tea and castor-oil. He was not sufficiently reco- 
 vered to preach on Sunday ; but performed the 
 ordination service at his own room on Monday 
 afternoon. The kind attentions of his hostess, Mrs. 
 Governor Henderson, were unremitting. 
 
 The Texas Conference, held at Cedar Creek 
 Church, December 29th to January 3d, closed his 
 second tour of Episcopal visitations. Six preachers 
 were admitted into the travelling connection, and 
 thirty stationed. On the 5th January he reached 
 Houston, preached at "eleven o'clock, and the next 
 day took steamer for Galveston. He says the next 
 day : " My work is done, and I go home, the Globe, 
 a noble boat, with a favorite old captain, being 
 ready to depart for New Orleans, to-morrow morn- 
 ing. I have travelled since the 10th September 
 upwards of three thousand miles — about eleven 
 hundred on horseback; and although I have 
 been on the road almost every day that I was not 
 in Conference, have had no more than three wet 
 days to ride in. While on horseback, had to ford 
 eight rivers, and creeks I know not how many, 
 
436 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 without experiencing the least detention or incon- 
 venience, or even having to pass through water 
 more than knee-deep. Goodness and mercy have 
 attended me in all the way I have come ; and in 
 that goodness and mercy will I trust, with thanks- 
 giving, to the end." 
 
 The Globe had a smooth run across the Gulf; 
 and the sentiment of the beautiful was stirred in 
 the good Bishop's soul, by the scene presented 
 just before reaching the mouth of the Mississippi. 
 He thus describes it: "The sunset this evening 
 was the most gorgeous I ever gazed at. The sea 
 was as smooth as a lake, and the dappled clouds, 
 kindled gloriously over it, flung down upon its 
 silvery bosom such a brightness as could not be 
 painted. And how true to the heavenly light were 
 the kindled waters ! just as it should be where 
 the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in 
 the face of Jesus Christ has been revealed to the 
 believer. I have now crossed the Mexican Gulf, 
 that most dreaded part of my whole tour; and 
 here, as along all my journey, goodness and mercy 
 have most remarkably attended me. Great im- 
 provement in the appearance of the plantations as 
 we go up the river : the buildings better ; cultiva- 
 tion better ; plantations larger ; and last, not least, 
 there seems to be a better chance to keep from 
 drowning. I see some plantations, every foot of 
 which is evidently lower than the surface of the 
 water of this mighty, booming river, which is kept 
 off by an embankment, of about the height of our 
 
GOING HOME. 437 
 
 rice-field river-banks. The orange trees, with their 
 tempting fruit, are the only very pretty things I see. 
 
 "Arrived at New Orleans January 13th, before 
 one o'clock P. M. Learned that the boat for 
 Mobile would start at three o'clock. Took a cab 
 for the post-office, and thence to the railroad lead- 
 ing to the Mobile boat. Got to the railroad in 
 good time, but none too soon ; and by the railroad 
 to the steamboat, which in a quarter of an hour 
 after set off. A most luxurious dinner of several 
 courses, admirably served, came on at four o'clock. 
 Such fare makes it really cheap to be carried to 
 Mobile for five dollars. 
 
 " January 14. Notwithstanding her silly name, 
 I am now on board of the Pride of the West. "We 
 got to Mobile at eight o'clock this morning, hav- 
 ing been detained among the shallows in the fog 
 some two hours during the night. I forgive the 
 California her gaudy fixtures, and allow her also 
 to be a noble boat. It realty looks strange to me, 
 after crossing so many rivers which were almost 
 dry — the Brazos bridged by its ferry-boat, the 
 Trinity not too deep to be forded, the Nueces knee- 
 deep, and even Red river almost fordable — to see 
 the Mississippi and Alabama rivers so full. Had 
 the floods been in ' the West' I have been travelling 
 through, what had become of me and my pony ? 
 Mentioning my pony calls to mind that I have 
 never spoken of him according to his deserts. I 
 rode him a thousand miles, over mountains not a 
 few, without his once stumbling with me, though 
 
438 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 lie could not have been much used before I got 
 him, being under five years old ; and he was equal 
 to the best of horses I travelled with, and, except 
 one, decidedly superior as a traveller, both for the 
 easiness of his action, and his progress on the road. 
 I sold him at a word, for what he cost me, and 
 would not have taken $30 more for him, if he had 
 been in South Carolina. A very pleasant horse 
 was Mac ; and very lucky was I in procuring him : 
 white, nearly every hair of him, just fifteen hands 
 high, thin-shouldered, deep-chested, light-footed; 
 bought and sold for sixty dollars." 
 
 A dear lover of a good horse, and a fine judge of 
 his points, is our worthy Bishop. Let the tyro in 
 horse-flesh, when about to buy, remember the ortho- 
 dox canons just laid down : thin-shouldered, deep- 
 chested, and light-footed. 
 
 Bishop Capers reached Montgomery on the 
 evening of the 16th, voting the Pride of the West 
 a good boat, and exceedingly well managed, worthy 
 to be classed with the Globe and the California. 
 On the 19th he reached home : how dear to a man 
 of his exquisite family-feeling such a home as 
 greeted him would naturally appear, after an 
 absence so long and labors so intense, may be 
 conceived more readily than described. 
 
DR. BASCOM. 
 
 439 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Dr. Bascom visits South Carolina — His mind and manners— Meeting 
 of the Bishops and Commissioners of the Church suit called by 
 Bishop Soule — Bishop Capers's third and fourth tours of visita- 
 tions. 
 
 Eaely in 1848, Francis W., eldest son of Bishop 
 Capers, wlio had been for some years a professor 
 and officer of the State Military Academy, was 
 elected Professor of Ancient Languages and Litera- 
 ture in Transylvania University, of which institu- 
 tion Dr. Bascom was then President. In April, 
 Dr. Bascom, who had made a tour through Ala- 
 bama and Georgia, spent a week in Charleston, 
 and attended the camp-meeting held in the vicinity 
 of the city. This was the only visit ever made to 
 South Carolina by that distinguished man. It is 
 almost needless to add that his preaching made a 
 profound sensation. An eminent legal gentleman 
 of Charleston, after hearing this master of sacred 
 eloquence, said that he had listened to Chalmers 
 and Robert Hall, but was constrained to give the 
 palm to Bascom. There was a singular interpene- 
 tration of the logical and poetic faculties in Dr. 
 Bascom' s mind. In preaching, his imagination 
 
440 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 commonly won the lead of his logic — the poet got 
 the mastery of the dialectician. His fervid genius 
 delighted to vivify and incarnate its thoughts with 
 the force and in the form of scenic representation. 
 And in this he supposed he was carrying with him 
 the sympathies of the general mind of the country, 
 even though it might be at the expense of disap- 
 pointing the fastidiousness of cultivated taste. 
 The main fault, as we suppose, which a severe 
 critical judgment would find in this inter-play of 
 leading mental powers, is that it is liable to inter- 
 fere with the unity of the sermon, and to detract 
 somewhat from the definite final effect it is meant 
 to have. Even a poet may have too much imagina- 
 tion, as was the case with Spenser. The " Fairy 
 Queen" is a series of glittering tableaux, each the 
 most beautiful of all scene-painting in our language 
 and literature ; but by their very brilliancy and 
 rapid succession complicating and interfering with 
 the thread of the story; and leaving at last some- 
 thing of a confused impression of the whole upon 
 the reader's mind. While in South Carolina, Dr. 
 Bascom received the attentions of leading gentle- 
 men both in Charleston and Columbia — men who, 
 in point of manners, were peers of princes. In 
 company with them he maintained a noble and 
 graceful ease, as though he had been dandled on 
 the knee of affluence, and had mixed with titled 
 society from his boyhood. This is mentioned 
 merely to correct an impression of a different kind 
 sought to be made since his death. 
 
EN ROUTE FOR LOUISVILLE. 
 
 441 
 
 The General Conference of the Northern Me- 
 thodist Episcopal Church was held in May, at 
 Pittsburg. By this body, from the councils of 
 which Drs. Olin, Bangs, Levings, and others of the 
 foremost men of the Church had been excluded, 
 the Plan of Separation adopted in 1844, by which 
 the organization of the Southern Conferences had 
 been authorized, was repudiated. The frivolous 
 pretences on which this act was done, it is aside 
 from our purpose to notice here. It became neces- 
 sary, however, that immediate measures should be 
 taken to secure the portion of the Book Concern 
 which was the property of the Southern Church. 
 A meeting of the Bishops and Commissioners was 
 accordingly called by Bishop Soule, in June. They 
 met at Louisville, Kentucky, September 6th. 
 
 Before leaving Charleston, Bishop Capers had 
 the satisfaction of seeing his charming daughter, 
 Emma Haslope, united in marriage to the Rev. 
 Samuel B. Jones — a marriage, alas ! crowned with 
 but a few brief years of connubial felicity, Mrs. 
 Jones having survived her father but a month or 
 two. By him she was fondly loved, and was 
 eminently worthy of a father's affection. 
 
 On the 16th of August the Bishop set off from 
 Charleston, en route for Louisville. He preached 
 at Wilmington the next night, spent Sunday in 
 Petersburg with the family of his attached friend, 
 D'Arcy Paul, Esq., and filled the pulpit in "Wash- 
 ington Street Church. The following Sunday he 
 passed at Pittsburg. Hoping to find his son, Pro- 
 19* 
 
442 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 fessor Capers, who liad just been married to a sister 
 of Dr. Bascom, at Lexington, lie left the river at 
 Maysville. He must, of course, be invited to 
 preach at night. They gave him a good congrega- 
 tion, at least, on short notice. He was disap- 
 pointed next morning, by the information that 
 he would not be able to see his new daughter at * 
 Lexington, since "the birds were flown," Professor 
 and Mrs. Capers having left on the day of their 
 marriage for a bridal tour " over the hills and far 
 away." Returning to the Ohio river, the Bishop 
 reached Louisville in time for the meeting called 
 by Bishop Soule, but suffering considerably from 
 asthma. All the Bishops attended this meeting, 
 and were in consultation with the Commissioners 
 of the Church. The result of their deliberations 
 was a determination to institute the necessary suits 
 at law, as soon as practicable, for the recovery of 
 the funds and property falling due to the Southern 
 Church, under the contract of the Plan of Separa- 
 tion. It was arranged here, that Bishop Capers, 
 after attending the Kentucky and Louisville Con- 
 ferences, should, in accommodation to Bishop 
 Paine, take the Eastern District, beginning at the 
 Virginia Conference. Accordingly, he entered 
 upon his third tour of visitations, attending the 
 Kentucky Conference, at Flemingsburg. Here he 
 had the pleasure to see his " new daughter" — the 
 bridal tour having been shortened to allow him that 
 satisfaction. From Flemingsburg he went to Har- 
 dinsburg, Kentucky, and held the Louisville Con- 
 
NORTH CAROLINA CONFERENCE. 443 
 
 ference. Tlie session was harmonious and happy, 
 and the public worship made a blessing to many. 
 
 Apprehending delay from low water in the Ohio, 
 he went by the way of Nashville and Charleston to 
 Elizabeth City, the seat of the Virginia Confer- 
 ence. This route allowed him the unexpected 
 pleasure of four days with his family. On the 25th 
 October, he set out for Elizabeth City, where the 
 Virginia Conference closed a laborious but peace- 
 ful session of nine days, on the 9th November. A 
 question having arisen in regard to the probable 
 effect upon the case at law, if the society at Fred- 
 ericksburg should be recognized as adhering to 
 the Southern organization, and supplied with a 
 preacher from the Virginia Conference, supposing 
 their case not to be specifically provided for in the 
 Plan of Separation, Bishop Capers considered it 
 proper to submit the question to the Hon. Reverdy 
 Johnson, one of the counsel of the Church, South. 
 He accordingly went to Baltimore at the conclusion 
 of the Conference, and had a satisfactory interview 
 with Mr. Johnson. This incident illustrates the 
 prudence and caution of the Bishop, and his fear- 
 less self-sacrifice. The weather was particularly 
 bad, and his exposure to wet, frost, and snow, on 
 the way to Baltimore, and thence to Danville, 
 brought on an aggravation of the affection of the 
 chest under which he was suffering. He, however, 
 held the North Carolina Conference, and was kindly 
 taken from Danville to Goldsboro, by the Eev. D. 
 B. Nicholson, very comfortably in his carriage. 
 
444 
 
 LITE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 The session of the South Carolina Conference 
 was held at Spartanburg, and, for the first time, in 
 one of the mountain districts of the State. The 
 weather was fine, and a large number of persons 
 attended from the surrounding country. The im- 
 pression made by the Conference was fine, and a 
 short and very pleasant session was closed with a 
 peculiarly appropriate and impressive address from 
 Bishop Capers. 
 
 At the Georgia Conference, he found himself so 
 unwell as not to be able to occupy the President's 
 chair on Friday and Saturday. A genial change 
 in the weather, however, allowed him to attend on 
 Sunday morning to the ordination services, after 
 Dr. Lovick Pierce had preached a sermon very ap- 
 propriate to the occasion. This session was held 
 in Augusta ; and there were twenty-three preachers 
 admitted into the travelling connection. 
 
 The Florida Conference, which ended Bishop 
 Capers's present route of visitations, was held at 
 Albany, and closed on the 5th February. He was 
 able to preside in tolerably good health. Previously 
 to his setting out for Florida, his daughter, Sarah 
 Ann, was married to Mr. W. M. Sage, a young 
 merchant of Charleston. 
 
 In March, he dedicated a Methodist church 
 edifice in the town of Beaufort, South Carolina. 
 This visit throughout was one of great satisfaction. 
 His health was improving with the opening of 
 spring. The air was fragrant with the perfume of 
 the jasmine ; and being accompanied in the same 
 
DEDICATION AT BEAUFORT. 445 
 
 carriage by two attached friends, each a good lis- 
 tener, the Bishop developed all his charming 
 powers of conversation. The dedication sermon 
 which he preached was highly appropriate to the 
 time and circumstances. His text was the follow- 
 ing: "For we stretch not ourselves beyond our 
 measure, as though we reached not unto you ; for 
 we are come as far as to you also, in preaching the 
 gospel of Christ.'' The town being made up prin- 
 cipally of planters' residences, with an intelligent 
 though not large population, divided in their reli- 
 gious preferences between the Episcopalian and 
 Baptist denominations, there had been but little 
 opening for the erection of a Methodist church, 
 although the Methodist missionaries had been en- 
 gaged for several years in preaching to the blacks 
 on the neighboring islands. A successful effort, 
 however, had been made to build a church, by the 
 Rev. D. D. Cox, then in charge of the missionary 
 work. In preaching on the text just mentioned, 
 Bishop Capers maintained that Methodism did not 
 seek to interfere with established religious organ- 
 izations ; was abhorrent of the sectarian spirit, in 
 the offensive sense of that term; never aimed at 
 proselytism. Nevertheless, it had a mission even 
 in a small community where other churches were 
 planted, inasmuch as there were always persons and 
 families in such a community who might be 
 reached and benefited by its peculiar instrument- 
 alities, who had not, in point of fact, been brought 
 into other communions. And what though this 
 
446 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 class might not embrace many of the rich, refined, 
 or highly-educated ? It was the glory of Christ's 
 gospel that it held a different point of view from 
 that which worldly wisdom might have suggested, 
 for its operations. It began at the bottom and 
 worked upwards : the other would fain begin at 
 the top and work downwards. The measure of 
 Methodism stretched to all unoccupied ground; 
 and its results, in fact, had never been confined 
 within the mere limits of its own peculiar organ- 
 ization. It went for the revival and spread of 
 spiritual religion everywhere ; and many of its 
 fruits were seen adorning the enclosures of other 
 communions — lost, indeed, to Methodism, but that 
 was no great matter, if they were gained to heaven 
 in the end. These salient points were enlarged 
 upon with a richness of illustration and a strength 
 of appeal, in keeping with his high reputation as 
 a preacher, and made the occasion one of great 
 interest. 
 
 The state of the Methodist Episcopal Church 
 South, as reported in the general minutes, published 
 early in 1849, presented a gratifying picture of 
 prosperity and advancement. There were in the 
 connectional union nineteen Annual Conferences, 
 four Bishops, one thousand four hundred and 
 seventy-six travelling preachers, three thousand 
 and twenty-six local preachers, and in the member- 
 ship of the Church four hundred and ninety-one 
 thousand seven hundred and eighty-six whites, and 
 one hundred and thirty-four thousand one hundred 
 
EPISCOPAL VISITATIONS. 
 
 447 
 
 and fifty-three colored, and three thousand three 
 hundred and seventy-five Indians — exhibiting an 
 increase upon the returns of the previous year of 
 twenty-six thousand two hundred and thirty-three. 
 The Southern organization was surely able to take 
 care of itself, by the blessing of God; and that the 
 Divine blessing rested upon it was shown by its 
 vigorous growth. Its preachers were doing evangel- 
 ical work — not mixing themselves up with political 
 affairs, not drawn aside from their proper vocation 
 by schemes of pseudo philanthropy. Their zeal was 
 not the fire of fanaticism, but a solemn, tender con- 
 cern for the salvation of men's souls ; their exclu- 
 sive business was "to preach the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ." 
 
 Bishop Capers left home on his fourth round of 
 Episcopal visitations late in August. He reached 
 Nashville on Saturday evening, September 1st, and 
 preached at McKendree Church next morning. 
 The day after, he paid a visit to Bishop Soule. He 
 reached Louisville on the 6th, nothing injured by 
 travelling, but rather "braced up." He attended 
 in succession the Kentucky, Louisville, Tennessee, 
 Memphis, Mississippi, and Alabama Conferences. 
 The sessions were pleasant in the main ; but he 
 felt sorely the want of more preachers to supply the 
 opening and extending fields of labor. Notwith- 
 standing this deficiency, there was reported in five 
 Conferences an increase of upwards of five thou- 
 sand members. The following letter, written dur- 
 
448 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 ing this tour, shows his grateful sense of a super- 
 intending Providence : 
 
 " After the manner of the most kind Providence, 
 which has attended me along all the way of my 
 journeying, from the beginning till now, I have 
 threaded the dangerous navigation of the Red 
 river, up and down, from New Orleans to Shreve- 
 port, and back again, without hurt or harm, and 
 am now, after a smooth passage across the Lakes 
 Ponchartrain and Bourne, at the mouth of the 
 river below Mobile. Every boat, I was told, that 
 had ascended the Red river this season, not ex- 
 cepting the one after me, lost some passengers 
 by cholera ; but my boat, and one of the worst and 
 dirtiest I ever was on, though crowded beyond all 
 probable excess, so that the clerk told me we had, 
 little and big, black and white, five hundred pas- 
 sengers on board, had not one case. One old man 
 died on board of asthma. I have no asthma. 
 What is to come may well be confided to ' the will 
 Divine but in all my travelling for more than 
 forty years, by stagecoach, by railroad, by ship, and 
 by steamboat, no accident has ever happened to 
 hurt me, or any one else travelling with me, to this 
 day. Verily, there is a Providence which watches 
 over men !" 
 
 Surely he had good reason to " remember all 
 the way which the Lord his God had led him ? ' for 
 forty years through the wilderness. And pleasant 
 must the recollection have been to his mind, that 
 
THE DESCENDING SUN. 
 
 449 
 
 this guiding eye and sustaining hand had been 
 over him while engaged directly and with full 
 strength in the blessed work of his Divine Master. 
 The past was safe ! The witness was with God, 
 and the record on high. Would he have exchanged 
 the sublime satisfaction of such a train of re- 
 flection for all the honors and dignities which 
 worldly success, the loftiest, the widest, could have 
 entailed ? 
 
 The foregoing letter was written a day or two 
 before his sixtieth birthday. He had already 
 touched the summit of his strength and vigor. 
 The remaining five years of his life was a period 
 of decadence : gracious and graceful to the last, 
 but no longer the "William Capers of former days ! 
 He cannot now travel at night without suffering. 
 A long day's ride entails stiffness and soreness. 
 The elasticity which carried him erect and buoyant 
 over so many fields and through such great labors, 
 loses its springs under the heavy hand of time. 
 The eloquence which in former years so often 
 
 "Flew an eagle flight, forth, and right on," 
 
 has less daring in its pinion, less precision in its 
 swoop and aim perhaps. His preaching, however, 
 had the heightened charm with which veneration 
 clothes the words of wisdom from the lips of age and 
 long experience. A softened lustre shone from the 
 descending sun ; and the graces and virtues of 
 religious character, tested and made illustrious by 
 
450 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 so many years of public service, produced but the 
 deeper impression the nearer he drew to that 
 solemn and glorious land, 
 
 " Where life is all retouched again." 
 
EPISCOPAL VISITATIONS. 
 
 451 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 General Conference at St. Louis — Fifth tour of visitations — Writes 
 his Autobiography — Illness at Augusta — Sixth tour — Correspond- 
 ence. 
 
 Bishop Capers attended the second Genera! Con- 
 ference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 
 which was held at St. Louis, Missouri. The session 
 was a brief one, cholera having made its appear- 
 ance in the city, and threatening to become rapidly 
 epidemic. Indeed, one of the members of the 
 Georgia delegation, the Rev. Isaac Boring, fell a vic- 
 tim to the disease. The necessary business was gone 
 through, however, and an additional Bishop elected 
 and consecrated. This was Dr. Bascom, for whom 
 Bishop Capers entertained the warmest affection, 
 and whose distinguished career closed four months 
 afterwards, amidst profound and universal regrets. 
 
 The plan of Episcopal visitations assigned to 
 Bishop Capers the Holston, Tennessee, Memphis, 
 Mississippi, and Alabama Conferences for the first 
 year of the new quadrennial term. He attended 
 all these Conferences, and in the discharge of the 
 duties of his ofllce was called on to station five 
 
452 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 hundred and fifty preachers. The year had been 
 one of prosperity; and particularly in the Holston, 
 Memphis, and Tennessee Conferences very gracious 
 revivals had taken place. The visits of the Bishop 
 were highly appreciated. 
 
 On his return he spent some six weeks in the 
 spring of 1851 with his daughter, Mrs. Ellison, at 
 the Wesleyan Female College, Macon, Georgia, 
 where he wrote the recollections of his early years 
 found in the former part of this volume. This auto- 
 biographical sketch he describes to his daughter, 
 Mrs. Jones, while composing it, as being "a plain 
 narrative, in which I am chiefly concerned to set 
 down facts, which perhaps may be interesting, at 
 least to my children." The importance of under- 
 taking this work had been earnestly pressed upon 
 his attention by several of his intimate friends, 
 who believed that his reminiscences of that period 
 of Methodistic history in the South Carolina Con- 
 ference covered by his early labors, would be a 
 contribution to the literature of the Church of in- 
 estimable worth. He contemplated a continuation 
 of the narrative of his life, but never added a line 
 to what he had written at Macon. 
 
 By the kindness of the Rev. "W. G. E. Cunnyng- 
 ham, one of the missionaries of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, South, to China, we are enabled 
 to favor our readers with the following letters from 
 Bishop Capers, the first of which was written at 
 Macon. Mr. Cunnyngham says : "Below I send a 
 copy of two letters written by Bishop Capers, one 
 
LETTER TO REV. MR. CUNNYNGHAM. 453 
 
 addressed to Mrs. Cunnyngham, and the other to 
 myself. It was my privilege to enjoy the friend- 
 ship of that truly great and good man for several 
 years before his death. The letter to me was 
 written before my appointment to China, and in 
 answer to one from me asking for advice on a 
 subject which his letter sufficiently explains. The 
 advice he gives may do other young preachers 
 good. I have had cause to thank God for it. 
 The letter to Mrs. C. exhibits some of the finest 
 traits of his beautiful character. I send a copy, 
 because I do not wish to give up the original 
 letters ; they are a treasure I would not readily part 
 with. 
 
 "Shanghai, China, May 18th, 1857." 
 
 "Macon, Ga., Feb. 18, 1851. 
 
 " My dear Brother : — Yours of the 3d inst. has 
 been forwarded to me at this place from Charles- 
 ton. As to the advice you ask, you may trust me 
 to any length you please, that I will be sincere in 
 giving it, as if it were to my own son ; but that you 
 may equally confide in the wisdom of the advice 
 given, is another question. As a general rule, 
 admitting of but few exceptions, one should never 
 lift a foot to move anywhere without light ; light 
 enough, too, not only to see any disadvantages of 
 the ground occupied at the time, but also of the 
 ground to be occupied by a removal. Every one 
 can see enough to be dissatisfied with something, 
 perhaps much, in his position and circumstances ; 
 
454 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 and it is a misfortune to many, that they incline 
 more to ponder the evil than to consider the good 
 of their present position ; and to anticipate the 
 good more than foresee the evil of a proposed 
 change. I would choose to see, before I made any 
 change of much consequence, both that it should 
 be advisable, and that it should be advisable now. 
 And if I could not see this, I would deem it pru- 
 dent to keep my mind easy as I might, without 
 any change, and wait until a time should come for 
 me to see more clearly. Always see your way 
 before taking it, is no bad rule of action. Better 
 wait for light than step forth in the dark, or even 
 if it be not quite dark. "When I was young in the 
 ministry, I was much worried with a restless desire 
 for change, thinking I might do more good, for 
 some reason or other, in almost any other place 
 than where I was ; till, finding it to be a temptation, 
 I cast it from me, and determined to take my allot- 
 ment for the best, be it where it might. I cannot 
 but suspect that in part, at least, you too are some- 
 what tempted. The great matter, my dear brother, 
 is not where or for what persons we labor ; but how 
 much of the spirit of faith, and zeal, and humble 
 love, we carry to our work. I do not, at present, 
 like the idea of your changing your Conference. 
 3Sor can I say that I deem your reasons sufficient. 
 
 "You have not told me whether you are jet 
 married or not, nor have I heard from any other 
 quarter. What you say in your letter might apply 
 either if married or expecting to marry. Suppose 
 
LETTER TO MRS. CUNNYNGHAM. 455 
 
 then you are married. Tour wife will be even 
 more concerned by your removal to another Con- 
 ference than you yourself. A parsonage, or board- 
 ing-house, will never be more bearable for being 
 beyond the reach of her kin-folks and friends ; but 
 the reverse. Never fear that we will locate you, or 
 that your friends will locate you, even should they 
 wish you to locate, as long as you maintain the 
 spirit of your calling. It is not friends and kindred, 
 so much as oneself, that we need fear under a 
 
 temptation. As to my dear , whether she 
 
 is, or is to be, your wife, she is not the stuff to 
 embarrass you ia,your duty; and see to it, on your 
 part, that you suffer no restlessness of temptation 
 to add a feather to the sufficient burdens of a 
 travelling preacher's wife ; but, on the contrary, let 
 it be assiduously and constantly your care to have 
 her as little troubled as possible, and as quiet and 
 happy in her feelings as possible. 
 
 " My most affectionate and true-hearted love to 
 all the fahiily. May God bless them. 
 
 " Your very sincere friend, 
 
 "W. Capers." 
 
 TO MRS. CUNNYNGHAM. 
 
 "Asheville, N. C, Sept. 27 ? 1852. 
 
 " My dear Bettie : — It was kind of you to write 
 me from New York : to think of me at that especial 
 point of time when the images of loved ones at 
 home, left for so long a time, and so far away, 
 must have held a peculiar title to your recollections. 
 
456 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 Your letter was most grateful to me; and right 
 heartily and affectionately do I thank you for it. 
 May God bless you abundantly, my dear good 
 daughter, and make you a blessing and a praise to 
 thousands, while you shall glorify Him by a life of 
 simple faith and fruitful charity. 
 
 " Before you shall have received this letter, the 
 pictures of imagination will have been superseded 
 by the verities of missionary life in China; and 
 you will have begun to do with the duties and 
 trials of your great undertaking : duties and trials 
 challenging patience and forbearance, without the 
 aid of the stimulus of a great advejnture and admir- 
 ing friends. You are in China — a missionary in 
 China. Yes, there you are, for the testimony of 
 Jesus, while as yet a seemingly impracticable 
 language makes you deaf and dumb, and you feel 
 the pain of that most irksome of all the forms of 
 solitude, the being alone in the midst of masses of 
 people. You have neither companionship nor 
 acquaintance with them, though you have left 
 all on their account. City, country, forms of 
 society, manners, customs, modes of life, nothing 
 is like home, but every thing repulsively in contrast 
 with it. And still you need not be unhappy. 
 Jesus dwells in China ; and you know the secret 
 of his presence, and its power. Most pleasing is it 
 to his love and goodness to satisfy with himself 
 whatever may be lacking to you of friends and 
 home-enjoyments. The promise is 'a hundred- 
 fold. ' You will neither think nor feel as if the 
 
LETTER TO MRS. CUNNYNGHAM. 457 
 
 absence of so much, that gave zest to life in America, 
 must necessarily make life insipid in China. Think 
 of home as if you were at home. Think nothing 
 of that wide, wide sea ; for no matter for its count- 
 less millions of waves— it is only as a partition of 
 your Father's house, separating one chamber from 
 another ; or like that meadow between home and 
 your schoolroom at Abingdon. And think not of 
 the days to come, while the present finds you as 
 you ought to be. What is the difference between 
 all the length of days you may pass in China, and 
 the few hours of a day spent at school ? Let them 
 alone, and they will all soon be the same, and 
 shall have passed away like a dream ; and you 
 shall wonder at the shortness of the time. Enjoy 
 life by making most of what is at hand. Make an 
 idol of nothing — not even of your husband ; but, 
 nevertheless, reckon your treasures to be treasures. 
 I have known a time, when, to have had a wife back 
 from the grave, I would have rejoiced to have gone 
 for life to the remotest corner of the earth, with 
 no other associate, friend, or neighbor, but herself 
 alone. That, I have long since known, was idola- 
 try, extreme selfishness, and utter folly; but, 
 thank God, you nave Jesus with you, to bless and 
 sanctify what is yours. Be happy, then ; be always 
 happy; for you cannot in any other way better 
 please God. Be always employed ; watch against 
 moody thoughts; take as much exercise as suits 
 the climate ; and be learning something when you 
 20 
 
458 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEES. 
 
 go abroad, no less than when closeted with book 
 and teacher. But I stop a lecture which I did not 
 intend, and which, I begin to feel, betrays my own 
 weakness more than is becoming, and much more 
 than may be profitable. It reads too much as if I 
 considered you as weak — as if you had not been 
 baptized with the Spirit of your Master, and were 
 in danger of fainting under the cross. 
 
 "A thousand blessings be on your head, my dear 
 Bettie, and your husband with you. May God 
 keep you as He only can, from all evil, and make 
 you a blessing to many. Much love to brother 
 Cunnyngham, and to the brethren Taylor and 
 Jenkins and their families. 
 
 " Your very sincere friend and brother, 
 
 "W. Capers." 
 
 After having spent some three months in Macon, 
 Bishop Capers set out to return to South Carolina. 
 On his way to Augusta he was taken suddenly 
 sick, but was able to reach the residence of his 
 early and attached friend, John H. Mann, Esq., of 
 Augusta. This was the first time he was ever 
 seriously ill, away from home. But the house of 
 his friend and brother, Mann, was'almost the same 
 as home to him. His family were sent for; the 
 best medical aid in the city was at his service ; the 
 kindest and most unwearied attentions from the 
 truest and most loving of friends, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Mann, were given him; and by the blessing of 
 
RETURN TO CHARLESTON. 459 
 
 God and good nursing, he was carried through an 
 attack which, under other circumstances, might 
 have proved fatal. 
 
 On the 27th of May he wrote as follows to his 
 daughter, Mrs. Stone: "I am still confined to my 
 room and physic, after a month and a day of doctor- 
 ing. My debility continues to a great degree. 
 Not much stronger to-day than two or three weeks 
 ago, but relieved of pain. Dr. Means, of Oxford, 
 called on me, on his way East, and told me it must 
 be a long time before I could recover. During all 
 the earlier and severer part of my illness, I was 
 more and much more than sustained by the exceed- 
 ing grace and mercy of God, which was made 
 manifest to me and for me, in Christ. I had never 
 any fear, any doubt, and of course no sadness, nor 
 even sorrow, though in much pain and great feeble- 
 ness. I still have my mind free, and what is too 
 much for me I give up without difficulty. May 
 the blessed will of God be completely done in me, 
 according to the riches of his grace in Christ J esus. 
 This is all that is now of any consequence or con- 
 cern. My tender love to your sisters. Tell them, 
 precious girls, that I have been very near home 
 since I saw them : near enough to know that verily 
 it is no fabled land, but the true, eternal kingdom 
 of the Son of God, our Saviour, where he has pre- 
 pared places for us. Tell them to live for it, and 
 away from the world, that they may attain unto it." 
 
 By the middle of June he was able to reach 
 Charleston, but still so feeble as to be prevented 
 
460 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 from performing the least service whatever beyond 
 prayer with his family. He held himself in calm 
 and devout resignation to the Divine providence, 
 saying, "If God will, I shall work; and if he will 
 it rather, I shall still be of no service till I go 
 hence. " His health, however, in a week or two 
 began to improve rapidly; and he was able to 
 preach in Columbia on the last Sunday in June, 
 and with unction and fervor. At the edo;e of the 
 grave, he had caught a vivid glimpse of eternity, 
 and with the full impression upon his spirit he 
 delivered his message to dying men. After spend- 
 ing several weeks at Anderson Court-house, where, 
 for the sake of the climate, he contemplated resid- 
 ing in future, he returned to Charleston so much 
 recruited as to undertake his tour of visita- 
 tions. He left Charleston early in August, hoping 
 to attend most of his Conferences. The following 
 correspondence presents an account of his move- 
 ments : 
 
 "St. Louis, Mo., Sept. 12. 
 
 " To Augusta, Atlanta, and as far as Marietta, 
 some three hundred and fifty miles, I had the com- 
 pany of brother and sister Shackelford, and a very 
 pleasant time. Reached Chattanooga Thursday 
 evening, and was presently afterwards in the stage- 
 coach for 'over the mountains and far away.' 
 "Walked up the first mountain, "Walker's Ridge, 
 which is the steepest and very high, though not the 
 highest, before midnight on foot, which, after such 
 
MISSOURI CONFERENCE. 
 
 461 
 
 a fatigue as travelling from Charleston to that 
 point without rest, I thought something smart for 
 me to clo. Was willing to pass for an old man, and 
 to be carried by the horses up the Cumberland, on 
 the same night. Got to ISTashville, still without 
 rest, at two o'clock in the morning, Saturday. On 
 Sunday preached twice. Monday, at about eleven 
 o'clock, took boat for Paducah, on the route hither ; 
 and going to the boat, found Bishop and sister 
 Soule on board, bound for Louisville. How lucky ! 
 For we were on the last boat that would be able to 
 get down the Cumberland river, and to have missed 
 her would have obliged me to take another hard 
 day and night stage-route from Nashville to Paducah. 
 I am here quite soon enough, and with a fair pros- 
 pect of reaching Fayette, the seat of the Missouri 
 Conference, by boat, as early as I wish to do. My 
 journey hither has done me no harm, and, for the 
 much that remains, we have only to exercise a 
 prayerful trust in God, who is the living, ever- 
 present God, and whose providence is faithful and 
 unfailing, whether it seem to us prosperous or 
 adverse.' ' 
 
 " Fayette, Mo., Sept, 27. 
 
 "At St. Louis it was my purpose to come up in a 
 boat to a town on the Missouri river, Boonville, 
 opposite to this place ; but at the time the river 
 was deemed too low for a certain passage in reasona- 
 ble time, and Dr. Bond, of this Conference, (not 
 of Baltimore,) kindly offered me a seat in his 
 
462 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 buggy, and brought me all the way, stopping two 
 clays at his house at Danville, and all in due time 
 for the Conference. We are getting on cleverly 
 with the Conference, and have no hard cases of any 
 kind to disturb our quiet. You will not be sorry 
 to hear that I have been advised here, and have 
 concluded to give up my purpose of visiting the 
 Indian Mission Conference as impracticable, or, 
 at least, likely to put it out of my power to visit 
 the Arkansas Conference, which I ought by all 
 means to do, as it has already been two successive 
 sessions without a Bishop. As well as we can 
 make it out, I should have to ride some three 
 hundred and sixty or eighty miles to the Indian 
 Mission Conference, and thence to the Arkansas 
 Conference still farther, perhaps four hundred 
 miles. This, in the time allowed for it, I could not 
 do, especially over such a tract of country as, for 
 much of the distance, I should have. I expect to 
 return to St. Louis, and thence go to Memphis by 
 boat, and thence to Camden, Arkansas, as may be 
 deemed best. I continue about as well as when I 
 left you ; perhaps never again to be as strong as I 
 have been, though but little ailing. Still, I eat 
 pretty heartily, and sleep as well as I have been 
 accustomed to do from home. 0 that I could rid 
 myself of the feeling of exile which so constantly 
 oppresses me in these long absences from home ! 
 Or if I might, would it not be substituted by some 
 worse feeling? Perhaps it might; but I greatly 
 fear that I am chargeable with performing an un- 
 
EN ROUTE TO ARKANSAS. 
 
 463 
 
 willing service ; and what ought I not to be willing 
 to do or forego in the service of my Eedeemer ?" 
 
 "Memphis, Tenn., Oct. 22. 
 
 "I wrote from Fayette and St. Louis, to the latter 
 of which places I returned as I had gone, with Dr. 
 Richard Bond, in his very comfortable buggy. If 
 there were such pleasant prairie roads along the 
 distance from Fayette to the seat of the Indian 
 Mission Conference, and thence to Camden, as 
 between St. Louis and Columbia, I 'should have 
 been able to prosecute that route without doubt or 
 difficulty. Such roads, however, extend in the 
 direction of the Indian Territory and Arkansas no 
 farther than "Warsaw, and all the rest of the route, 
 except a few remaining prairies, lies over the most 
 rugged country, and directly across all the lines of 
 travel, for full four hundred miles out of six 
 hundred. Indeed, it appeared, from the informa- 
 tion of brethren on whom I could rely, that Cam- 
 den might be reached from Muddy Spring only on 
 horseback, and horseback travelling was interdicted 
 to me by the medical men. The Indian Mission 
 Conference, therefore, had to be given up as of 
 necessity, and the Missouri Conference passed a 
 resolution unanimously advising it to be necessary, 
 and for me to fall back on the rivers as the only 
 practicable way of reaching the Arkansas Confer- 
 ence, where my presence was still more impera- 
 tively called for than at the Indian Mission Con- 
 ference, there not having been a Bishop there for the 
 
464 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 last two sessions. We liad a very pleasant Confer- 
 ence at Fayette, and, I trust, a profitable one. On 
 my part, there has been no cause of complaint ; on 
 the contrary, I have every reason to remember the 
 brethren with grateful affection. — I arrived at Mem- 
 phis on the 18th ; got a horse and buggy, put them 
 on a steamboat, and go down to Napoleon, a little 
 town at the mouth of the Arkansas river, where I 
 meet another boat, which goes to Pine Bluff', 
 within seventy miles of Camden, and having a 
 ridge country of pine land lying between them, 
 crossed by only one small river. One of the 
 brethren here, perhaps Dr. Ebbert, will accompany 
 me. We start to-morrow. At St. Louis I preached 
 twice on the 12th ; here, last Sunday, but once ; 
 but I make up for it by having preached in one of 
 the churches last evening, and being to preach in 
 the other this evening. I perceive no particular 
 difference in my health since leaving home, but 
 only find that I am much more easily fatigued than 
 formerly, and cannot endure much. Rough roads 
 are my particular aversion, and travelling over 
 them does me no good. I think I have ended my 
 stage-travelling by night, unless, perhaps, between 
 Augusta and Anderson. But what are rough roads 
 with you, are smooth west of the Mississippi, (or, 
 indeed, east of it in this quarter,) except the Mis- 
 siouri prairies in dry weather. The utmost I ex- 
 pect to attempt is to go to the East Texas Confer- 
 ence, at Henderson, Russ county; and if the experi- 
 ment between Pine Bluff and Camden should not 
 
LETTER TO HIS ELDEST SON. 
 
 465 
 
 argue favorably, and the information to be got at 
 Camden be favorable also, as to the route thence to 
 Henderson, I shall not go farther than the Arkan- 
 sas Conference." 
 
 The following letter is to his eldest son, who had 
 shortly before connected himself with the Church : 
 
 " Camden, Akk., Nov. 17, 1851. 
 
 " My dear Frank : — I had hoped to get a letter 
 from you at this place, but have not been favored 
 with one. Yet I have received one from your 
 mother, which has given me no little pleasure on 
 your account, by the information it communicates 
 of your having joined the Church. I consider this 
 a great matter, and rejoice for it, notwithstanding 
 the inadequacy of Church-membership, or any other 
 circumstantial or conventional thing, to answer the 
 necessities of the soul ; because it puts you in the 
 way of God's institution, and therefore a hopeful 
 way, for the obtaining of all your wants — pardon, 
 peace, and the power of grace. God be with you, 
 my dear son. And he will be with you, as sure as 
 he has been with me. ' The mercy of the Lord is 
 from everlasting to everlasting upon them that 
 fear him, and his righteousness unto children's 
 children. ' ' Thou hast avouched the Lord, this day, 
 to be thy God, and to walk in his ways, and to keep 
 his statutes, and his commandments, and his 
 judgments, and to hearken unto his voice. And 
 the Lord hath avouched 'thee this day to be his 
 peculiar people, as he hath promised thee.' " 
 20* 
 
466 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 "I need offer you no advices, nor give you any 
 cautions, for you well know that to be hearty and 
 diligent in duty, doing it to please God, and be- 
 cause he has appointed it, and expecting to be 
 accepted, not for the sake of the deed done, but for 
 Christ's sake, whose grace consecrates your obedi- 
 ence that it may be approved — this and this only, 
 being God's method of saving you through his 
 blessed Son, will keep you in the hour of tempta- 
 tion, and carry you through whatever may come, 
 by the supply of the Spirit of grace, safely and 
 surely to the end. Christian duty is never to be 
 neglected, and is never a thing by itself ; but done 
 unto the Lord, its every act is a sacrament of grace, 
 an opportunity of meeting with Jesus, and obtain- 
 ing his blessing. Nor may the duty be unblest 
 because it may not at the time be attended with 
 any sensible comfort. No, nor though, instead of 
 the comfort of joyful emotions, it should seem 
 rather to be an occasion of discomfort. (See Gen. 
 xv. 12.) We must needs be variously exercised 
 that we may know our dependence on 6 the blood 
 of sprinkling' to be entire, and to admit of no 
 substitution, at all times. You will now more espe- 
 cially consider life in its true substantiality ; not 
 as a thing of fancy, a painted show, but the field 
 of moral, intelligent, responsible action, in which 
 every man is to perform his part among his 
 fellows, and before God, for all eternity. Not as if 
 they were feathers in the wind, where the lightest 
 might fly highest, but men with souls in their. 
 
TRAVELLING IN ARKANSAS. 467 
 
 bodies, conscious of immortality, and using time to 
 purpose. G-ive my love, my tenderest love to Han 
 and the boys. God be with you and bless you, 
 my dear son. 
 
 " Your affectionate father, 
 
 "W. Capers." 
 
 The following, to Mrs. Capers, is dated New 
 Orleans, November 28, 1851 : 
 
 "The Conference at Camden adjourned on Tues- 
 day evening, the 11th inst. And what from my 
 bruised condition by the roughness of the road to 
 that place, and the close application required by 
 my duties at Conference, I was quite ailing, so that 
 I did not leave Camden till the Monday afternoon 
 after the adjournment, not feeling able to encoun- 
 ter the road, even to return home. This decided 
 me to sell the horse and buggy I had bought at 
 Memphis, for I thought I could not in any reason- 
 able time expect to travel so long a journey as was 
 before me, even over better roads, by that convey- 
 ance. Reserving the use of this conveyance to take 
 me to the Mississippi river, I set out, as above, with 
 brother Hunter, who accompanied me as far as St. 
 Bartholomew Bayou, (creek,) in the Mississippi 
 swamp, where was a ferry but no boat, the flat 
 having been broken and being under repair. Here 
 I dismissed him with the horse and buggy, to re- 
 turn to Camden, one hundred miles, and put my- 
 self under the care of a' most estimable Christian 
 gentleman by the name of McDermot, for the rest 
 
468 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 of the way to the great river, it being only eighteen 
 miles. Passed a pleasant half day with this friend 
 in need, and was sent by him, well attended, to the 
 river. Passed Sunday there, at nothing, and Mon- 
 day morning got passage on the steamer St. Paul, 
 of St. Louis, for New Orleans, where, after a plea- 
 sant trip of six hundred miles, I arrived last even- 
 ing. The steamboat seems to be the very thing 
 for me, where I get exercise enough without effort, 
 and can lie, sit, or walk at pleasure ; and during 
 this trip I have been recruiting fast, instead of suf- 
 fering as by my late journeys over bad roads. 
 But what has chiefly and decidedly contributed to 
 my better condition in the last ten days, is the use 
 of Jew David's plaster to the small of my back. 
 Without this, I doubt if I could have sustained 
 the ride from Camden, Arkansas, to the Mississippi 
 river; whereas, with it, I was enabled to do so with 
 much less pain than in the ride to Camden, and 
 nothing like the same degree of exhaustion. 
 
 "X remain here until December 1st, and shall 
 then pursue the ordinary public route, resting on 
 the way, and probably calling on Anna for a day 
 or two. Hope to get home in time for Christmas." 
 
THE ITINERANT SYSTEM. 
 
 469 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The Methodist itinerant system — Its suitableness to the expand- 
 ing population of the country — Statistics — Seventh tour of visita- 
 tions. 
 
 The thoughtful reader cannot fail to be impressed 
 by the long separations, the perilous and protracted 
 journeyings, the wearing thought, in addition to con- 
 stant preaching, involved in stationing preachers 
 and providing supplies for the spiritual wants of 
 large portions of the country, which, in the system 
 of itinerant clerical operations in the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, fall in full stress upon her Epis- 
 copal staff. To one accustomed to the quietude 
 and regularity of the home-parish system, this 
 might seem to be, very much, a needless expendi- 
 ture of muscle and brain, of men and means. Such 
 things, it might be thought, were very well for the 
 beginning of the present century, and for the times 
 of Francis Asbury ; but surely at the present day 
 the mission of Methodism might be supposed to lie 
 mainly in the pleasant work of the spiritual edifi- 
 cation of the multitudes of disciples already 
 gathered into its fold. There is, no doubt, work 
 enough of this sort. But it is forgotten that while 
 
470 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 ten years ago the "Western frontier line of this 
 country moved onward at the average rate of thir- 
 teen miles a year, bearing the ensigns of civiliza- 
 tion into regions covered with primeval forests, 
 wildernesses untrodden save by the wild beast, or 
 the scarce less wild Indian, now the advancing lines 
 of march rush forward with no fixed rule of pro- 
 gression, made up of columns supplied by foreign 
 immigration, reaching in some instances to a half 
 million of souls a year. Think of the ignorance, 
 prejudices, vices, that must belong to myriads of 
 these Eastern hordes ! They are, nevertheless, 
 henceforth to be part of the American people. 
 Our free institutions are to mould them, or to be 
 overthrown by them. The Mormon rebellion is 
 the first instalment of possible future trouble. The 
 statesman grapples with the gigantic problem of 
 the future status of the republic, and investigates 
 the conditions under which it becomes possible 
 that this heterogeneous mass may be brought up to 
 the right position for self-government. The Chris- 
 tian asks himself, What moral and religious re- 
 sources are at command, to leaven this mighty 
 aggregation of souls with the principles of spiritual 
 religion ? Shall the westward march of the nation 
 be signalized by churches and schoolhouses, as the 
 milestones of its grand progression ? and the 
 amenities, and domestic charities, and intellectual 
 trophies of a Christian civilization, bloom and 
 blossom in the late wilderness of nature ? And if 
 so, how is this consummation so devoutly wished 
 
THE ITINERANT SYSTEM. 
 
 471 
 
 for by the lover of his country to be accomplished? 
 The answer is, it must be brought about, under 
 God's blessing, to a great extent by the peculiar 
 genius of the Methodist itinerancy. The preacher 
 of the gospel, and by eminence the Methodist 
 preacher, is destined to bear a conspicuous and 
 glorious part in this achievement. This must be 
 so from the fact that the Methodist itinerancy fur- 
 nishes the trained discipline, the almost military 
 economy, the rapid combinations, and central effi- 
 ciency of a system of camp-meetings, circuits, Pre- 
 siding Elders' districts, and Annual Conference 
 organizations — the simplicity, directness, and vigor 
 of evangelic aggression ; and the oversight of a 
 general Episcopal superintendency, directing, en- 
 couraging, animating the whole apparatus of men 
 and measures, and pushing the missionary column 
 in the direction claimed by the strongest emer- 
 gency. Here are Bishops w T ho, to the sagacity, 
 wisdom, and veneration obtained from years of ser- 
 vice, add the vigor of hardy pioneers who ride on 
 horseback a thousand miles on a stretch, along the 
 frontier of civilized life. It has been said of the 
 Methodism of fifty years ago, that "it had no ruf- 
 fles or lawn sleeves that it cared to soil, no love- 
 locks that it feared to disorder, no buckles it was 
 loth to tarnish. It lodged roughly, and it fared 
 scantily. It tramped up muddy ridges, it swam or 
 forded rivers to the waist; it slept on leaves or raw 
 deer-skin, and pillowed its head on saddle-bags ; 
 it bivouacked among wolves or Indians ; now it 
 
472 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM 
 
 CAPERS. 
 
 suffered from ticks or mosquitoes— it was attacked 
 by dogs, it was. hooted, and it was pelted — but it 
 throve." Yes, it throve; it grew like the moun- 
 tain oak, in dark weather, dandled by stormy 
 winds. Manifestly, it was the very thing for the 
 time and country, fifty years ago. The physical 
 conditions are not quite so hard now; but the 
 system still has exactions sufficient to test and call 
 out the heroic in the temper and spirit of the men 
 who work it. Obviously, the adaptation of such a 
 missionary organization to present circumstances 
 is no less signal than it was to the circumstances 
 of a half century since. The salient point of its 
 doctrinal system is the principle that redemption 
 by Christ is general, and that, consequently, Chris- 
 tianity is a universal remedy for the sin and woe 
 of the world. In the spirit of this leading prin- 
 ciple of its theology, all its arrangements look to a 
 constantly progressive movement for evangelizing 
 the country, the breadth of the North American 
 continent being the base of its operations, and new 
 enterprises the soul of its itinerancy. Personal in- 
 conveniences sink out of sight in the presence of 
 great principles of action, such as these. In the 
 grandeur of a purpose so vast and comprehensive, 
 so many-sided, touching the interests of society at 
 such vital points, Bishop Capers might well have 
 wished himself young again, that he might give an- 
 other life in supreme devotion to the one sublime work 
 of preaching "the unsearchable riches of Christ,'' 
 from the centre to the outposts of civilized life. 
 
HOLSTON 
 
 CONFERENCE. 
 
 473 
 
 The General Minutes giving the statistics of the 
 Southern Methodist Church for 1851, exhibited a 
 gratifying amount of progress. There were then 
 in the connectional union twenty Annual Confer- 
 ences, exclusive of the Pacific Mission Conference. 
 The total of membership amounted to five hundred 
 and twenty-nine thousand three hundred and ninety- 
 four. Adding travelling preachers, one thousand 
 six hundred and fifty-nine, and local preachers, four 
 thousand and thirty-six, there was a grand total of 
 five hundred and thirty-five thousand and eighty- 
 nine, showing an increase of fourteen thousand 
 seven hundred and ninety-three for the last eccle- 
 siastical year. The average yearly increase from 
 the beginning of the Southern organization had 
 been twelve thousand. At this period it appeared 
 that a Methodist journal, somewhere, had admitted 
 that at one locality the Church seemed to be on 
 the wane. The intelligence called out something 
 like a genuine Jubilate in the newspapers of some 
 neighboring denominations, which amplified the 
 affair into a general decline. The demonstration 
 was a trifle premature. The Minutes showed, in- 
 deed, that Methodism was going down — but going 
 down the right way, spreading its roots to support 
 a wider spread of its branches. 
 
 In September, 1852, Bishop Capers left home to 
 commence his next tour of visitations with the Hol- 
 ston Conference. The accession of sixteen preach- 
 ers to the effective list of the " Switzerland" 
 Conference, made the eyes of the good Bishop 
 
474 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 sparkle. Holston had already a representative in 
 China — the Rev. W. GL E. Cunnyngham, a man of 
 most admirable qualifications for that mission ; the 
 Conference at the present session nominated an- 
 other of its preachers for a distant mission-field, 
 California ; and Bishop Capers had the satisfaction 
 to appoint him. The session was protracted ; yet 
 he was able, in addition to presiding regularly, 
 to preach several times, and to ordain, at one ser- 
 vice, both deacons and elders. 
 
 Before reaching the seat of the Holston Confer- 
 ence, he visited the Echota Indian Mission, in the 
 Asheville District. There is a remnant of the 
 Cherokee Indians, about twelve or fourteen hun- 
 dred in number, who were settled on lands in 
 Jackson, Macon, and Cherokee counties, North 
 Carolina, at the time when the tribe of Cherokees 
 were removed to the West. To this remnant the 
 Holston Conference has sent missionaries from the 
 time of the Cherokee exodus. When Bishop 
 Capers visited them, there were about one hundred 
 and fifty Church members, and three or four 
 Indian preachers, among them. An English school, 
 taught by the Rev. IT. Keener, was in successful 
 operation. The Bishop spent several days in the 
 Mission, preached to the Indians once or twice, 
 with Charlie Hornbuckle as interpreter, and was 
 highly gratified at the improvement which these 
 Cherokees had made in agriculture; and especially 
 with their improvement in all social and religious 
 respects. He felt and manifested a special interest 
 
MRS. PAUL'S ENVELOPES. 475 
 
 in them, and opened a correspondence in respect 
 to their affairs, with the Rev. William Hicks, then 
 Presiding Elder of the district. 
 
 He spent Sunday, the 17th October, in Charles- 
 ton, en route to Fredericksburg, the seat of the 
 Virginia Conference, and preached twice with his 
 usual ability and unction, leaving the next day in 
 the Wilmington steamer. At Fredericksburg, ten 
 preachers were admitted into the travelling con- 
 nection, and one readmitted. The Bishop presided 
 to the satisfaction of all parties, and stood up well 
 under the toils of the session. In the Conference- 
 room, in the social circle, and in the pulpit, he was 
 ready, affable, and effective; and left a fine influ- 
 ence on the Conference and community. In a 
 letter to Mrs.- Capers he says : " We had a delight- 
 ful Conference at Fredericksburg ; one of the very 
 best in all respects. At Petersburg, I stopped 
 Saturday and Sunday with brother and sister Paul, 
 the latter having attended the Conference at Fred- 
 ericksburg. Sister Paul has renewed her old-time 
 kindness, and I have in my trunk, silk and calico, 
 and pocket-handkerchiefs. ' I have,' said she, <a 
 quantity of envelopes, and I want you to take a 
 parcel of them.' I thanked her, and took them; 
 but in one of them I found twenty-five dollars, 
 directed to me. This, I suppose, was in lieu of a 
 coat she had intended to give me, and which I de- 
 clined, as not needing one at present." 
 
 Mrs. Paul must pardon us for publishing the 
 
476 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 foregoing. If the incident shows the admirable 
 womanly tact with which she has long^been accus- 
 tomed to do her acts of kindness to the preachers, 
 why. that is known to thousands, and she has found 
 it impossible to conceal entirely things of this sort, 
 notwithstanding ail her efforts. The Bishop ac- 
 cepted gratefully the pocket-handkerchiefs and the 
 like ; but when a coat in addition must be re- 
 ceived, his delicacy prompted him to decline, lest 
 he should seem to be availing himself, beyond 
 proper bounds, of the kind partiality of his lady 
 friend. But wouldn't he accept a parcel of en- 
 velopes ? — he had a large correspondence — a fresh 
 supply of envelopes would not burden his portfolio. 
 O good, easy Bishop ! fairly caught. There is 
 your new coat, nicely stuffed away in one of these 
 smooth-faced envelopes, which told no tale at the 
 time. Let sister Paul have it her own way, hence- 
 forth. She is entitled to the queenly luxury of 
 doing good. 
 
 After attending the Xorth Carolina Conference 
 at Louisburg, which closed November 10, and 
 spending a few days at home with his family, 
 Bishop Capers set out for the Alabama Confer- 
 ence. This was held at Marion ; and on his way, 
 he spent a Sunday at Selma, preaching morning 
 and afternoon — at the latter service, to the blacks. 
 At this session, the notable number of twenty-eight 
 preachers were admitted into the travelling con- 
 nection. The Bishop conducted the business of 
 
FLORIDA CONFERENCE. 
 
 477 
 
 the Conference to the entire satisfaction of all con- 
 cerned ; and his pulpit labors were specially edify- 
 ing, appropriate, and eloquent. 
 
 The session of the Georgia Conference began in 
 the beautiful town of Athens, December 15th, and 
 closed on the evening of the following Tuesday. 
 By general admission, it was considered one of the 
 pleasantest ever held in the State. A large amount 
 of business was gotten through with dispatch, and 
 the venerable Bishop carried a face of sunshine. 
 Upwards of one hundred and sixty preachers were 
 stationed. 
 
 On the 5th January, 1853, Bishop Capers took 
 the chair, and opened the session of the South 
 Carolina Conference at Sumterville. This was also 
 a very pleasant Conference. Among other things 
 noticed at the time, there was a donation made to 
 the superannuated preachers' fund, by Andrew 
 Wallace, Esq., of Columbia, of a thousand dollars, 
 so conditioned as to have the interest paid annually 
 to Bishop Capers, and his wife, during their life- 
 time — a touching testimonial to the worth and 
 public services of the Bishop, on the part of one 
 who had long known him. 
 
 The Florida Conference closed the present round 
 of visitations. It was held in the town of Quincy, 
 beginning January 28th. As if he had renewed 
 his youth, Bishop Capers presided in the Confer- 
 ence, held his consultations with the Presiding 
 Elders, preached and performed the ordination 
 services on Sunday morning. When the afternoon 
 
478 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 service was over, finding that his friend, Dr. Sum- 
 mers, who had been appointed to preach at night, 
 was complaining of sore-throat, he insisted upon 
 taking his place in the pulpit ; would listen to no 
 demurs on the Doctor's part, and went and preached 
 with power and effect; and closed the day's sacred 
 work by administering the Lord's Supper. 
 
 At this Conference he made the two following 
 decisions : 
 
 "It has been desired that I should express my 
 opinion, ex cathedra, with respect to a question 
 which has recently given trouble in one of our 
 stations : whether it is allowable for a member of 
 the Church, a leader or steward, to preach without 
 license of the Quarterly Conference. 
 
 " The Discipline appropriating to the Quarterly 
 Conference the authority to license proper persons 
 to preach, and requiring that their licenses should 
 be renewed yearly, clearly implies that persons be- 
 lieving it to be their duty ought to apply to the 
 Quarterly Conference for license. This is the 
 orderly and proper way for any one to become a 
 Methodist preacher. But the present question 
 looks to something short of this ; as in case the per- 
 son concerned, without believing himself to be 
 called to preach, as a profession, should think it 
 his duty sometimes, in the absence of a preacher, 
 to hold religious services with his neighbors and 
 brethren, as a preacher might do. The question is, 
 whether this ought to be allowed ? I know nothing 
 against it if the person be of fair Christian char- 
 
EPISCOPAL DECISIONS. 
 
 479 
 
 aeter, his teaching accord to sound words, and he 
 competent to teach. On the other hand, I should 
 commend such a person for his labor of love, and 
 encourage him to do all the good he could. There 
 can be no imposition in it, nor a bad example, as 
 if one who might be a vagrant should assume to be 
 a preacher. Nor do I judge that at the present 
 time, and in this Conference District, there is any 
 occasion to set a guard on the zeal of intelligent 
 and worthy members of our Church, as if there 
 were danger of their encroaching on the ministry. 
 I would rather say, with Moses, "Would that all the 
 Lord's people were prophets ! 
 
 "W. Capers. 
 
 "Conference at Quincy, Jan. 29, 1853. 
 
 " The following questions have been put, in Con- 
 ference, for my decision from the chair : 
 
 "1. Has a preacher in charge a right to withhold a certificate of 
 membership, simply because the applicant desires to attach himself 
 to a society more remote from his place of residence than the one 
 from which he desires to be dismissed ? 
 
 "2. What relation does a person sustain to the Church who holds 
 in his possession a certificate of membership ? If regarded as a 
 member, to what society is he accountable ? 
 
 "3. When a member has been found guilty of gross immoralities, 
 can he upon manifesting penitence and promising reformation be re- 
 tained in full connection in the Church ? 
 
 " To the first of these questions I answer in the- 
 negative. And I acid, that the certificate of mem- 
 bership is clue independently of any suspicion or 
 aversion of the preacher, on the naked ground of 
 
480 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 freedom on the part of the applicant from any 
 Church censure, or objections formally made in- 
 volving censure. A certificate that one has been 
 an acceptable member at any place, intends no 
 more than membership unimpeached, at that place. 
 But I have known one to ask in writing for a cer- 
 tificate, in such language as should of itself be 
 sufficient to subject the applicant to censure. In 
 which case the preacher should instantly go to the 
 offending brother, and seek to correct the wrong, 
 as the Discipline requires ; or, in default of this, he 
 having virtually waived the offence by his own in- 
 difference, might not make it a reason for with- 
 holding a certificate. 
 
 " To the second question, I answer, that the per- 
 son holding a certificate of membership is a member 
 of the Church by virtue of that certificate, for such 
 length of time as the circumstances of the case and 
 the analogy of our economy may warrant. And 
 during this time, (that is, while the certificate avails 
 him for membership, and before it has been pre- 
 sented elsewhere,) he is amenable to the society to 
 which he belonged at the time it was given him. 
 If he is a member at all, he must be amenable 
 somewhere, and he can be amenable nowhere 
 else. 
 
 "To the third question, I answer in the negative. 
 It was a frequent practice with our fathers, in cases 
 where penitence was strongly marked, to put the 
 offender back on trial for six months ; placing him 
 in relation to the Church as if he were just begin- 
 
EPISCOPAL DECISIONS. 
 
 431 
 
 ning. But it requires great strictness and extreme 
 caution to make this practice safe or expedient. 
 Penitence is an easy price for pardon, or for even a 
 mitigation of punishment; and probably it has 
 been for this reason that the practice has been dis- 
 continued. The immoral person had better be ex- 
 pelled ; and if he be truly penitent for his sin, he 
 will make it appear, and return to the Church by 
 joining on trial, as at first. There has been more 
 than one Judah, to whom the shame has been more 
 abhorrent than the guilt of a transgression. 
 
 "W. Capers. 
 
 "Conference at Quincy, Jan. 31, 1853. " 
 
 21 
 
482 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Eighth tour of Episcopal visitations — Failing health — General Con- 
 ference at Columbus, Georgia — Last tour — Illness and death. 
 
 Aeter a few months of relaxation at home, 
 Bishop Capers, accompanied by his wife, set out to 
 attend the Western Virginia Conference, held at 
 Clarksburg, August 24th. Thence he went to 
 Louisville, Kentucky, where a meeting of the 
 Bishops and Missionary Board was held, September 
 7th. Bishop Soule had not long before returned 
 from California. The account which he gave of 
 his visit to the Pacific Conference was deeply in- 
 teresting. In reference to the missionary work in 
 general, Bishop Soule said, " The Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church, South, ought to raise five hundred 
 thousand dollars a year for missions : they are able 
 to do it : it would be a great blessing to the donors." 
 
 From Louisville Bishop Capers went to Ver- 
 sailles, where he held the Kentucky Conference, 
 commencing September 14th. Then followed the 
 Louisville Conference at Owensburg, Kentucky, 
 which closed its session October 4th; the Ten- 
 nessee Conference at Franklin, and the Mississippi 
 
EPISCOPAL VISITATIONS. 483 
 
 Conference at Canton, commencing November 23d. 
 By this time the Bishop's health began to fail per- 
 ceptibly, so that he was not able to attend the session 
 of the Louisiana Conference, the last of his present 
 tour of visitations. The company of Mrs. Capers 
 with him was of great service and satisfaction. 
 
 At home once more, the quiet and relief from 
 public cares and responsibilities brought his health 
 up again to a tolerably comfortable state. As the 
 spring opened, his passion for gardening had full 
 scope ; and the exercise in the open air and sun- 
 shine, which he took in laying off and improving 
 the grounds of his up-country residence, was evi- 
 dently beneficial. He was able to attend the Gen- 
 eral Conference in May, though he excused him- 
 self, on account of the feebleness of his voice, from 
 occupying the President's chair during almost the 
 whole session. In the plan of Episcopal visitations, 
 there were allotted him, in view of the uncertainties 
 of his health, only the Georgia and Florida Confer- 
 ences for the ensuing winter, and a visit to the 
 negro missions in South Carolina for the spring 
 of 1855. 
 
 In November he passed several days at Colum- 
 . bia, during the session of the South Carolina Con- 
 ference, under the Presidency of Bishop Pierce. 
 He was able to preach once on Sunday. A serene 
 cheerfulness characterized all his social intercourse 
 with the brethren with whom he had formerly been 
 so closely associated, and before whom he had ever 
 held up a bright example of devotion to the cause 
 
484 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 of the itinerant ministry. They saw him now for 
 the last time among them ! 
 
 On the 13th December he opened the session of 
 the Georgia Conference, at Atlanta. Dr. Myers 
 said of his Sunday's sermon, that he had rarely 
 ever heard him preach better: his discourse was 
 pervaded with that holy unction which carried it to 
 the heart. Although the labor of presiding at so 
 large a body as the Georgia Conference was of 
 course severe, yet the Bishop went through with an 
 energy which surprised his friends. Having to 
 leave Atlanta before day, at the close of this session, 
 and the weather being very cold, he suffered some- 
 what from bronchial irritation ; but so far recovered 
 as to be able to preside at the Florida Conference 
 at Madison, early in January, with satisfaction. 
 This Conference closed his public labors on earth. 
 
 On his return homeward from Florida, he visited 
 Charleston. His friend, the Rev. Dr. Myers, who 
 enjoyed the satisfaction of passing with him the 
 last evening of his stay, at the residence of his son, 
 Major F. W. Capers, describes the interview in the 
 following words: "Much of the evening was 
 spent in conversation respecting his last Conference. 
 He expressed the liveliest interest in the Church in 
 Florida, and earnest desire for its prosperity, 
 believing, as he said, that the importance of this 
 section, and its wants and worth, were underrated 
 by the preachers generally. He expressed some 
 disappointment at not having received, from an 
 officer of the Conference, some information necessary 
 
THE FINAL ATTACK. 
 
 485 
 
 to the completion of the Conference minutes for 
 publication, as lie wished, as always heretofore, to 
 forward these minutes to the publishers as soon as 
 he reached home. When he was told that the in- 
 formation desired had reached the office of the 
 Southern Christian Advocate that afternoon, and 
 could be obtained from the next week's paper, he 
 remarked : 6 But, brother, it may be too late.' And 
 it was ; for before he could have received it, he was 
 upon his death-bed. He had met some members 
 of his family whom he did not expect to see in 
 Charleston, and he remarked it with special satis- 
 faction, saying that he rarely saw so many of his 
 children together, there being six of the ten 
 present. They parted that night to meet next on 
 the resurrection morn." 
 
 Taking the railroad to Columbia on the next 
 morning, he spent the night of January 23d with 
 his old friend, the Rev. Nicholas Talley, and 
 reached home the next day. On the following day, 
 January 25th, he completed his sixty-fifth year, 
 and at midnight the final attack came. His two 
 daughters were awakened by their mother calling 
 to them in great alarm ; and hastening to the 
 Bishop's room, they found him sitting up, but 
 suffering great agony. " Make my blood circulate,'' 
 he said ; and warm flannels, friction, and mustard 
 w r ere applied in vain. An icy coldness had seized 
 the extremities. Seeing alarm depicted in the 
 countenances of those around him, he said : "I am 
 
486 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 already cold; and now, my precious children, give 
 me up to God. O that more of you were here ! 
 but I bless God that I have so lately seen you all.'' 
 Then turning to his daughter Mary, he said: " I 
 want you to finish my minutes to-morrow, and 
 send them off." The preparation of those minutes 
 was the last official act of his life ; and it is touching 
 to observe how his habits of promptness, punctuality, 
 and order were manifested at a crisis so solemn. 
 "Duty was his law in life — his watchword at the 
 gates of death." A physician was soon with him, 
 and succeeded during the next paroxysm of pain 
 in producing nausea, and temporary relief, and he 
 was removed to his bed. He then asked the hour ; 
 and when the information was given, he said: 
 "What, only three hours since I have been suffer- 
 ing such torture ! Only three hours ! What, then, 
 must be the voice of the bird that cries, 4 Eternity ! 
 eternity?' Three hours have taken away all but 
 my religion!" 
 
 During the next day he suffered much, but was 
 constantly engaged in prayer — especially for his 
 family. On Sunday he was better, and sat up 
 nearly all day, and at night insisted that his children 
 should not sit up with him. But his son-in-law, 
 the Rev. S. B. Jones, who had come from his cir- 
 cuit, and Mrs. Capers, remained with him until 
 after midnight. On Monday morning at daylight 
 Mr. Jones approached his bedside, saying, "How 
 do you feel this morning, father?" His answer 
 
THE DEATH-SCENE. 
 
 487 
 
 was, "I feel decidedly better, and would like to 
 get up, that your mother may be able to sleep." 
 Mr. Jones then said: "The doctor wishes you to 
 take a small dose of castor oil." "Well," said he, 
 "give it to me in a table-spoon, for I have no 
 taste." Being assisted to raise himself, he took 
 the spoon, drank the oil, then took a tumbler of 
 water and rinsed his mouth over a basin. Mrs. 
 Capers turned from the bed to put aside the tum- 
 bler and basin, and in a moment he breathed his 
 last. His countenance expressed the utmost com- 
 posure ; no single sigh or convulsive movement 
 marked the approach of death. Gently as dies the 
 latest whisper of summer winds, his life passed 
 away. Thus quickly had disease of the heart done 
 its fatal office. Mrs. Capers could not believe that 
 this was death. She thought it must be only a 
 fainting fit, and that she should again see the light 
 of those dear eyes, and once more hear the voice 
 of her beloved husband. She applied all the restora- 
 tives within reach ; and continued for nearly an 
 hour the hopeless endeavor to recover him to con- 
 sciousness. But the pleadings of affection fell on 
 "the cold, dull ear of death;" the immortal spirit 
 had joined the innumerable company before the 
 throne. 
 
 As soon as the intelligence of the death of Dr. 
 Capers was received at Columbia, a meeting of the 
 ministers and members of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church was held, and resolutions appropriate to the 
 
488 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 solemn event were passed, together with an earnest 
 request to the family of the deceased Bishop, that 
 his remains should be removed to that city for in- 
 terment; to which the consent of the family was 
 given. In Charleston, also, meetings were held in 
 the several Methodist churches, and resolutions of 
 affectionate respect for the memory of the deceased, 
 and of condolence with his family, were adopted, ac- 
 companied with a request similar to that of the 
 Methodist community in Columbia, it being their 
 wish that the remains of the Bishop should lie 
 beneath the altar of Bethel Church. 
 
 On the 2d of February, the corpse, accompanied 
 with a funeral procession, was taken to the railroad 
 depot at Anderson ; at Cokesbury the funeral train 
 was joined by a committee appointed to represent 
 the Church there on the solemn occasion ; and at 
 Columbia, on the arrival of the cars at half-past 
 four o'clock P. M., a committee of ministers and 
 laymen received the body, and conveyed it to the 
 residence of the Rev. Nicholas Talley. On the 
 next day, at ten o'clock A. M., it was taken to the 
 Washington Street Church, the Rev. Messrs. Shand 
 and Wigfall, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, 
 the Rev. Drs. Leland and Howe and Frazer, of the 
 Presbyterian Church, the Rev. Messrs. Boyce and 
 Curtis, of the Baptist Church, and the Rev. Messrs. 
 Crook, Gamewell, and Townsend, of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, acting as pall-bearers. The 
 service at the church was conducted by the Rev. 
 
MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTIONS. 489 
 
 Whiteford Smith, D. D., who preached a sermon 
 highly appropriate to the occasion, from Acts xiii. 
 36 : "For David, after he had served his own gene- 
 ration by the will of God, fell on sleep." After the 
 last hymn, and a final look at the calm, beautiful 
 face of the dead by weeping friends, the body 
 was removed to the grave in the rear of the church, 
 where the burial service was read by the Rev. Mr. 
 Talley, and the coffin was lowered to its place, 
 dust to dust, and ashes to ashes, until the resurrec- 
 tion at the last day. 
 
 The death of Bishop Capers made a profound 
 impression throughout the Southern Methodist 
 Church, in all parts of which he was personally 
 known and respected. Church meetings and 
 Quarterly Conferences, by scores, recognized the 
 loss sustained by the Connection, and adopted 
 resolutions of sympathy and condolence with the 
 bereaved family. Many funeral sermons were 
 preached, as tributes to his memory ; and of these, 
 one by Bishop Pierce at Nashville, and another by 
 Dr. Cross at Charleston, were published: both of 
 them beautiful and eloquent memorials of the 
 worth of the deceased Bishop. 
 
 Over his grave is an oblong structure of gran- 
 ite covered by a marble slab, in the centre of 
 which rests a pedestal supporting an obelisk of 
 Italian marble. This bears the following inscrip- 
 tions. 
 
 21* 
 
490 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 On the west side : 
 
 William Capers, 
 Born in 
 St. Thomas' Parish, 
 South Carolina, 
 On the 26th Jan., 1790, 
 And died in Anderson, 
 
 South Carolina, 
 On the 29th Jan., 1855. 
 
 On the south side : 
 
 One 
 Of the 
 Bishops of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church, South. 
 
 On the east side : 
 
 The Founder 
 Of Missions 
 To the Slaves in 
 South Carolina. 
 
 On the north side : 
 
 Erected 
 To the 
 Memory of 
 The Deceased, 
 
 By the 
 South Carolina 
 Conference. 
 
MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTIONS. 
 
 491 
 
 In the "Washington Street Church, a tablet of 
 white marble bears the following inscription : 
 
 The Rev. William Capers, D.D. 
 This Monument 
 Is erected by the Congregation of this Church 
 In memory of 
 The Eev. William Capers, D.D., 
 One of the Bishops of 
 The Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 
 Who was born in St. Thomas' Parish, S. C, 
 January 26th, 1790, 
 And died near Anderson C. H., S. C, 
 January 29th, 1855, 
 Having served his own generation by the 
 Will of God, in the Christian Ministry, 
 Forty-six years. 
 His mortal remains repose near this church, 
 The corner-stone of which he laid 
 During his ministry in this town 
 In 1831. 
 He was the Founder of the 
 Missions to the slaves 
 On the plantations of the Southern States. 
 
 To shining abilities 
 Which rendered him universally popular 
 As a Preacher, 
 He united great simplicity and 
 Purity of character. 
 " The righteous shall be in everlasting 
 Remembrance." 
 
492 
 
 LIFE OS WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The personnel of Bishop Capers — Intellectual character — Conversa- 
 tional powers — Religious experience — Style of Preaching — The- 
 ology of the John Wesley school — Administrative capacity — ■ 
 Family feelings — Belief in a special Providence — Disinterested- 
 ness — Results of his ministry. 
 
 Bishop Capers was of medium height, well 
 formed, and a little inclined to corpulency in the 
 advance of life. At middle age his hair, which 
 was thin, began to fall off, and left him bald. This, 
 however, only made his appearance more touch- 
 ingly venerable, during the last ten*years of his 
 life. His face was fine, and its expression that of 
 blended intelligence and amiability. His eye was 
 black and lustrous ; it indicated great vivacity of 
 temperament; and seemed gifted with the power 
 of reading human character at a glance. His 
 hands were small, with the fingers tapering, and 
 the nails closely pared. The teeth were perfect; 
 the lips thin, and indicating decision ; the bust 
 round and full ; and the voice clear in its ring, and 
 melodious as a chime of bells. Thus nature had 
 given him the necessary physique for an orator. 
 
 His manners were those of an accomplished 
 
CHARACTER OF BISHOP CAPERS. 493 
 
 gentleman. The ease and affability, the finish and 
 freedom from professional crotchets, which char- 
 acterized his deportment, arose from his native 
 kindness of heart, his careful early training, and 
 the large knowledge of the world to which his 
 calling had naturally led. 
 
 Dignity of person, and the various elements 
 which make up weight of character, were added to 
 an intellect distinguished for its keenness, vigor, 
 and readiness. His mind was well balanced, prac- 
 tical, and solid; awake to the sentiment of the 
 beautiful ; and fitted by culture to appreciate and 
 enjoy this sentiment in nature and in man. Deli- 
 cacy, however, rather than majesty, fancy more 
 than imagination, prevailed in his intellectual con- 
 stitution. 
 
 His powers of conversation were remarkably 
 fine. He loved to talk; and in talking shone 
 without effort. A genial spirit of humor, racy 
 without coarseness ; an unborrowed fund of anec- 
 dote ; a vein of deep reflection ; all ready to be 
 laid under contribution for the instruction and 
 entertainment of those who listened, made his 
 society very charming. The exquisite symmetry 
 and versatility of the man came out here, as well 
 as in every other department of his well-balanced 
 character. 
 
 His experience of Divine things was genuine and 
 deep. Christianity, with him, was no mere theory, 
 to be subjected to scientific and critical research, 
 to be matter of speculation, and system, and con- 
 
494 
 
 LITE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 fined mainly to the intellect ; nor was it a church, 
 formalism, standing in a goodly round of ritual 
 observances. Least of all was it a poetic sentiment- 
 alism, the mere play-impulse of the susceptibility 
 to the beautiful and the good. On the contrary, it 
 was a divine life to his soul, a heavenly renewal of 
 the spirit by the power of the Holy Ghost, as well 
 as a conscious acceptance with God, through the 
 atoning sacrifice of the Divine Son. It was com- 
 munion with the Father of spirits, and a constant 
 realization of the powers of the world to come, 
 along with the irrevocable commitment of intellect, 
 emotion, and will to eternal rectitude. In all the 
 manifold conditions of social life, he maintained 
 the delicacy and dignity of a lofty virtue never 
 subjected to suspicion, never stained by the slightest 
 shade of moral laxity. 
 
 His piety was nurtured by the daily habit of 
 private prayer. Here he found the strength and 
 realized the vigor of the religious principle. His 
 communion with God was ever through the medi- 
 ation of Christ. His way to the holiest was ever 
 by the blood of Jesus ; his boldness of access, 
 through the unchangeable priesthood ; his closet a 
 precinct of Calvary — a cleft of the sacrificial hill. 
 He was wont to measure the extent of all gracious 
 attainments in the soul of a Christian, very much 
 by the extent to which personal, private prayer has 
 the force of a vital principle — the fixedness of a 
 habit. And if he laid this down in his preaching, 
 as a test of religious character and attainment, his 
 
 ♦ 
 
PREACHING OF BISHOP CAPERS. 495 
 
 own life was strictly conformed to the standard. 
 To this habit of private prayer may be traced the 
 prevailing spirituality, humility, and tenderness 
 which imbued his ministry. Equipped and armed 
 with the panoply of the pulpit warrior — " cincture 
 and breastplate, and greave and buckler, and 
 helmet and sword," his efficiency, after all, came 
 as the result of his " praying always with all prayer 
 and supplication in the Spirit." 
 
 His public prayers bore the impress of the pri- 
 vate devotional fervor. They were eminently 
 spiritual, comprehensive, and edifying: as far re- 
 moved from any affected magniloquence of words 
 as from stiff formality or solemn dulness. Here, 
 too, it was observable how the expiation of the 
 cross formed the great plea, was urged as the sole 
 reason for>the bestowment of the Divine mercy and 
 grace. This gave scope and compass to his peti- 
 tions ; winged the words of intercession ; warmed 
 the holy fervor of thanksgiving; and sent up his 
 voice to heaven in the acclamation of adoring 
 praise — ""Worthy is the Lamb." 
 
 His preaching was always and strictly extempo- 
 raneous, as distinguished from manuscript reading, 
 and memoriter preparation. He never used notes 
 of any kind; and probably never, in the whole 
 course of his ministry, drew up a half-dozen out- 
 lines. It by no means follows from this, that he 
 did not make his discourses matter of deep and 
 concentrated reflection, before their delivery. This 
 he unquestionably did. But his preparation con- 
 
496 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 cerned itself principally with the substance, very 
 remotely with the form, probably never with the 
 mere verbiage of the sermon. His ordinary prac- 
 tice discarded divisions and subdivisions altogether. 
 His method of treatment was peculiarly his own; 
 elaborated from some salient point in the subject; 
 bound into unity by the subtile affinities of thought 
 developing thought ; and leaving fresh and distinct 
 upon the mind of the listener the impression of 
 some leading truth or duty. A very special fluency 
 in utterance, the intuitive perception of the right 
 words, ease of movement, refinement and elegance 
 of manner, and a chaste and finished delivery, 
 characterized his preaching. Occasionally he fell 
 below his usual level of vigorous thought; but 
 even then, the commonplaces of the pulpit, delivered 
 by his eloquent voice, charmed the popular ear. 
 Sometimes he rose above that level, and then the 
 intellectualist was struck with the freshness and 
 affluence of his ideas, with the force which vitalized 
 his conceptions. In his ordinary preaching, a flash 
 of unexpected light would frequently be thrown 
 upon some important point in the discussion ; the 
 latent power or beauty of a word would be brought 
 out; and you would be reminded of the saying of 
 one of the old writers: "I will honor sacred elo- 
 quence in her plain trim ; but I wish to meet her 
 in her graceful jewels ; not that they give addition 
 to her goodness, but that she is more persuasive in 
 working on the soul she meets with." His ministry 
 was no mere function for doling out crumbs and 
 
PREACHING OF BISHOP CAPERS. 497 
 
 milk for babes ; it furnished the instruction and 
 presented the means and motives by which Christ- 
 ian men could be strengthened, advanced, and ma- 
 tured in holiness, and fitted for the duties and ex- 
 igences of life. The well-understood word unction, 
 describes the prevailing cast of his preaching during 
 the last decade of his ministry. It is the vital 
 warmth from heaven, the anointing of the Holy 
 Ghost, producing a tenderness which yearns over 
 the souls of men, a gush and flow of sympathy, 
 throbbing at the preacher's heart, and welling from 
 eye and tone, and coming fast and faster in irre- 
 pressible desire for the salvation of souls for whom 
 Christ died. 
 
 It need scarcely be added, that Bishop Capers 
 was, in his theological opinions, thoroughly Armen- 
 ian, using that word in the sense of the John 
 "Wesley school. This by no means interfered with 
 the play of a truly catholic spirit on his part. He 
 felt how many ties of common sentiment unite 
 those who "hold the Head." And he was ever 
 ready to bid God-speed to all who sincerely labor 
 to spread Christ's kingdom among men. WTiile, 
 therefore, his preaching was never controversial, 
 at the same time it embodied and kept constantly 
 in view those great elements of gospel truth which 
 are embraced by the Church to which he was 
 attached. To these he gave the cordial and full 
 assent of his mind. He gave utterance to what he 
 considered no doubtful speculations when he de- 
 clared the freeness and fulness of Christ's atoning 
 
498 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 sacrifice ; a general redemption ; the free agency 
 and moral accountability of man, and the sincere 
 offer, to all, of grace in the gospel proclamation. 
 He held the essentially simple and grand Method- 
 istic point of view: justification by faith alone, to 
 all who feel their guilt and clanger ; faith, a per- 
 sonal trust in Christ, as a sacrifice and a Saviour ; 
 the promise of God, sufficiently free to warrant an 
 application to Christ for present salvation; the 
 witness of pardon by the Spirit of God, the com- 
 mon privilege of believers ; and this comforting 
 assurance maintained by the lively exercise of the 
 same faith which justifies the soul. These were 
 the doctrinal rudiments which the preaching of 
 Dr. Capers illustrated and expanded in ample 
 variety, richness, and beauty. An Evangelist, 
 with a commission as wide as half a continent, 
 our good Bishop everywhere proclaimed this 
 gospel. 
 
 His reverence for revealed truth was sincere and 
 profound. The speculative faculty in his mental 
 constitution was held in unquestioning submis- 
 sion to the " mind of the Spirit" as presented in the 
 book of God. Where the heavenly illumination 
 stopped, he stopped. He felt no wish to overstep 
 the limits which separate the known from the un- 
 known. That Christianity was from heaven he 
 had had the most irrefragable of proofs : he had 
 tried it, and found it Divine. The great substance 
 and body of truth revealed in Holy Scripture was 
 clearly perceived and firmly* embraced, and fur- 
 
PREACHING OF BISHOP CAPERS. 499 
 
 nislied him the largest materials for his work as a 
 preacher. The person and character and life of 
 Jesus — what an inexhaustible mine did he find 
 there ! "With what delight was he accustomed to 
 dwell upon the. scenes and events of the evangelic 
 narrative ! What frequent and forcible lessons were 
 furnished him in the parables of our Lord ! Sub- 
 jects of this kind, under his masterly handling, 
 were, indeed, many-sided, and fraught with peren- 
 nial interest. One in the habit of hearing him 
 often, was apt to be struck with the predominance 
 of the experimental and practical over the imagin- 
 ative, in his preaching. Among the themes of the 
 pulpit, there are some which belong to the loftiest 
 walks of human thought in the region of the trans- 
 cendental. An ineffable grandeur invests them. 
 Their innate majesty kindles the imagination. 
 Skilfully presented, they touch the soul with 
 deepest awe and admiration. The human spirit 
 stands uncovered in. the presence of a glory so 
 dread and supernal. But the class of susceptibili- 
 ties meant to be chiefly affected by the gospel, lies 
 in another direction. Man's great business with 
 the gospel is to find a Saviour there. The main 
 questions every sermon should propose to answer 
 are, How may sin be pardoned ? how may its power 
 be broken, its pollution removed ? how may the new 
 obedience which springs from loyal love to God in 
 Christ be achieved? how may the principle of 
 holiness be strengthened and rendered dominant 
 in the soul? Questions like these are of the 
 
500 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 deepest import to the soul awake to its real moral 
 condition, its tremendous destiny in the life to 
 come. The solemn function and office of Christ- 
 ian preaching was ordained to meet these. And 
 whatever splendor of native endowment, whatever 
 breadth of learning, or quickness of insight, or 
 power of dramatic representation the preacher may 
 possess, all of real vitality and significance which 
 belongs to these qualities of mind is found in their 
 concentration upon the grand simplicities of the 
 gospel; in their being made tributary to one 
 sublime end, the salvation of men for whom the 
 Son of God became incarnate and died upon the 
 c'ross. 
 
 In administrative ability in the episcopal office, 
 Bishop Capers was not remarkable, though he 
 held. a respectable rank with colleagues who are 
 justly regarded as eminent in this department of 
 ecclesiastical- service. He never made parliamentary 
 rules matter of special study, and was inclined, in 
 the early part of his administration, rather to ignore 
 them in favor of primitive usage, when he presided 
 in an Annual Conference. A larger experience 
 corrected this view; and his second quadrennial 
 term showed a constantly growing improvement. 
 His general course was marked with dignity and 
 courtesy ; and if at any time he became for a mo- 
 ment fretful, it might be set down to the effect of 
 bad health on a temperament peculiarly nervous. 
 His addresses to candidates for membership in the 
 Conferences, and at the reading out of the appoint- 
 
EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION. 501 
 
 ments, were always solemn and appropriate : in 
 many instances, highly felicitous. In the station- 
 ing-room he always sought and was open to the 
 judgment and counsel of the Presiding Elders; 
 never exhibiting any consciousness of superior 
 sagacity — least of all any exercise of arbitrary 
 power; but, earnestly imploring the Divine guid- 
 ance, and availing himself of the best lights access- 
 ible, he discharged the eminently delicate duty of 
 making out the appointments. While presiding 
 at on£ of the sessions of the Georgia Conference, 
 an embarrassment arose in the stationing-room, in 
 regard to the appointment of one of the preachers. 
 Things were left at a dead-lock, when the Presiding 
 Elders retired. The next morning, Bishop Capers 
 took occasion, without mentioning names or par- 
 ticulars, to say to the Conference that Providential 
 guidance was very much needed in a case which, 
 the night before, had greatly perplexed his advisers 
 and himself; and that having entire confidence in 
 the efficacy of prayer to secure the light and aid 
 from God which were wanted, in a matter that con- 
 cerned his cause and kingdom on earth, the earnest 
 and special prayers of the Conference were asked, 
 in order that they might be rightly directed in the 
 present instance. The incident illustrates his pre- 
 vailing tone of thought and feeling, in the discharge 
 of the weighty responsibilities of his office. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say, that he regarded 
 the Episcopate in the Methodist Church as a func- 
 
502 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 tion of government and ministration, an order jure 
 ecclesiastico, conferred by election and ordination, 
 and not a Divine-right prerogative of a falsely 
 called priesthood. As lie thoroughly eliminated 
 from his views of the Christian ministry the priestly 
 element, he had no possible use for the priestly 
 virtue, supposed to be mysteriously conveyed in the 
 so-called Apostolical Succession, and claimed by 
 the Romanists as necessary to the validity of minis- 
 terial acts. In this view of priestcraft, which is 
 the essence of Popery, he agreed with the great 
 body of Protestant Christians. 
 
 Bishop Capers was a man of strong family feel- 
 ings. ISo one could enjoy home more than he. 
 But for the last fifteen years of his life, we have 
 seen how perpetually he was called to endure long 
 periods of separation from his family. "We have 
 seen, also, how paramount was the principle of duty 
 with him. When the time to set off for an appoint- 
 ment came, he broke away resolutely from the 
 charmed circle, holding every personal feeling in 
 abeyance. In one of his letters from Texas, he 
 says to Mrs. Capers : " The most trying time of 
 the whole period of a long absence from home, is 
 that which comes when, business fully done, there 
 is nothing remaining but to return. I find it will 
 not answer to dwell in anticipation at all ; but the 
 best I can do is to occupy my thoughts with the 
 kindness of Providence in the past, and so school 
 myself down to patience as an exercise of gratitude. 
 
PARENTAL AFFECTION. 
 
 503 
 
 Iii Missouri, in the Indian Territory, in Arkansas, I 
 would indulge, and often did, in reveries of home, 
 without restlessness, and even with entire com- 
 posure; but then, there was much time to pass, 
 and much of my duty to be performed, before I 
 might set my face homeward ; and the communion 
 of home stood more in recollection than anticipa- 
 tion. Time before me held out a Conference or 
 Conferences to attend, weighty responsibilities to 
 be met, holy duties to be performed, before home 
 might be enjoyed; and these I would never pass 
 or skip ; but they stood ever before me, thank 
 God, not as the cherubim, with a fiery sword, but 
 rather as covenant pledges of fidelity to my Lord, 
 which I should love to redeem, before I might 
 think of coming in from the field, and sitting down 
 to meat. We are poor creatures, unprofitable 
 servants, after all." 
 
 Pew parents are to be found, fonder of their 
 children than he. In his letters when absent from 
 home, he always sends kisses to each of them. 
 He often wrote to them. The following are speci- 
 mens of his correspondence with them. To his 
 youngest daughter, at that time just learning to 
 read, he sends the following gem : 
 
 " My very dear little daughter Mary : — When 
 Pa thought he would send the lines in a letter from 
 Memphis to Emma, his next thought was, what 
 he should send to his little Mary ; and then he sat 
 down and wrote these : 
 
504 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 And what shall Mary be, 
 
 If Emma is the Rose ? 
 For Mary — let me see — 
 
 What flower of flowers grows ? 
 
 It must be very sweet, 
 
 And very pretty too ; 
 A flower right hard to beat, 
 
 I hold to Mary due. 
 
 The Rose to Emma's given; 
 
 To Mary, all the rest; 
 And let them both send up to heaven 
 
 A perfume ever blessed. 
 
 Be a dear, sweet child, and keep Ma pleased all the 
 time till I come home again. Tell brothers Henry 
 and Ellison to be good boys, and never forget their 
 prayers. God bless you, my dear little daughter. 
 " Your affectionate father, 
 
 «W. Capers. 
 
 "Mat 21, 1841." 
 
 To his youngest son, Theodotus, then a lad just 
 o]d enough to be sent off from home to the Cokes- 
 bury School, he writes, August 7, 1853 : 
 
 " My dear son : — "When we parted, on your first 
 experiment of being from home at a boarding-school, 
 I dare say we both felt more than we were disposed 
 to have known. It was owing to sheer absence 
 (whatever may have been the cause of that absence) 
 that I did not put into your hand a little money. 
 I send you your first purse, to be disbursed accord- 
 ing to your own discretion, in the form of two five- 
 dollar bills; and with the advice that, for your 
 
CHILDREN OF BISHOP CAPERS. 505 
 
 own satisfaction in future, more than my own, you 
 will keep regular memoranda of how you expend 
 every fourpence of it. Begin with your beginning 
 in this way, and if you continue the same practice 
 through life, it will be all the better for you. May 
 God bless you, my dear boy. I have high hope of 
 you ; and confident of your self-respect and readi- 
 ness to improve your time to better purpose than 
 youthful fun and frolic. I shall be sadly disap- 
 pointed if I do not hear the best account of you, if 
 it shall please God to keep me, as hitherto, through 
 the journeys of the residue of the year. Never be 
 cast down. Be assured that a worthy and valuable 
 life can hardly be possible without no little of the 
 severities of trial and self-denial, which you, like 
 every other person, must feel to be painful in the 
 experience of them. Use your time, keep your 
 conscience tender, fear God, and grow to be an 
 honor and a blessing.' ' 
 
 In a preceding page the death of the Bishop's 
 daughter, Mrs. Jones, has been mentioned. His 
 daughter Anna, who was married to the Rev. Dr. 
 Ellison, a gentleman of high worth, died in 1857, 
 in the joyful hope of eternal life. Dr. Capers's 
 youngest daughter, Mary, is the wife of Professor 
 Stevens, of the South Carolina Military Academy. 
 His son Henry Dickson is a practicing physician 
 at Auburn, Alabama, with fine prospects of dis- 
 tinction in his profession, and has been married to 
 the daughter of Dr. A. Means, of Oxford, Georgia. 
 22 
 
506 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 His next son, Ellison, is expected t® enter the min- 
 istry in the South Carolina Conference ; and the 
 youngest son, Theodotus, is at present a student 
 matriculated at "Wbfford College. The Bishop's 
 domestic relations were exceedingly happy; and 
 while his children revere the memory of such a 
 father, they bid fair to be an honor to his name. 
 
 Trust in God was a strong, practical principle 
 with Bishop Capers. He was a firm believer in the 
 Christian doctrine of a special Providence. He 
 saw distinctly the proper medium between the 
 enthusiastic extreme, on the one hand, of expecting 
 miraculous interpositions, and the rationalistic ex- 
 treme, on the other, of shutting up the Divine 
 agency in fixed laws and an uninterrupted, neces- 
 sitated order in the sequences of nature. He saw 
 how the Absolute, the great Author of natural 
 laws, could, without disturbing the settled order of 
 the physical world, leave himself, in the multitude 
 of contingencies at his disposal, ample room for the 
 exercise of a fatherly care over those who put their 
 trust in him. How often had he realized the fact 
 that fervent prayer brought actual spiritual influ- 
 ence upon the soul ! If God, as free Personality, 
 absolved from any chain of nature's effects and 
 causes, could come thus nigh to his creatures in the 
 manifestations of his grace, without miracle, and 
 in full accordance with the principles and laws of 
 his august administration, why should it be doubted 
 that he is both able and willing to make all out- 
 ward things tributary to our real well-being ? and 
 
SCHEME OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 507 
 
 that, too, without suspending or interrupting the 
 course of nature. A thing is said to be accidental; 
 not that it happened without an adequate cause, 
 but that we know not why the cause of its hap- 
 pening should have come into operation just then. 
 But the Divine agency pervading the whole life of 
 things, can and does arrange, in the complications 
 of natural phenomena, these accidental things, so 
 that they touch us and affect us, just at the right 
 time and in the right way to answer the Divine 
 purpose. 
 
 John Fletcher — a name illustrious in the great 
 Methodistic movement — had entered the military 
 service of Portugal, when a young man, and was on 
 the eve of embarking for Brazil, when a servant 
 accidentally overturned a kettle of boiling water on 
 his leg. He was left behind on the sick-list. This 
 trifling so-called accident was in the hand of a 
 special Providence the instrument of a change in 
 his whole destiny. After his recovery, he sought 
 active service in Holland ; but peace was declared, 
 and he passed into England, where he was con- 
 verted to God, and became one of the leaders in 
 the great revival of the eighteenth century. What 
 thoughtful, religious man can review the events of 
 his own life without perceiving and noting how 
 often the most important movements in his life- 
 history turned on the centres of seemingly small 
 fortuitous events ? The disposing of these fortuities 
 he will, with adoring gratitude, refer to the special 
 providence of his Heavenly Father, whose eyes^are 
 
508 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 " over the righteous, and his ears open unto their 
 prayers." A profound philosophic insight, no less 
 than an humble piety, can blend in the harmony 
 of a higher unity the sequences of nature and the 
 interpositions of a particular Providence. And 
 thus, trust in God, so far from being a blind im- 
 pulse, rises into the force of an intelligent and 
 mighty principle, holding us firm amid life's chances 
 and changes ; giving nurture to the highest forms 
 of virtue and piety ; training the soul to the exer- 
 cise of the noblest qualities demanded by the pur- 
 pose of life ; and bringing unfailing happiness in 
 the train of habitual holiness. 
 
 This circle of thought is susceptible of a wider 
 expansion. St. Paul has a remarkable passage in 
 his Epistle to the Ephesians : "To the intent that 
 now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly 
 places might be known by the Church the mani- 
 fold wisdom of God." The scheme of Providence 
 runs through the whole intention of the institution 
 of the Church, and through the whole history of 
 her varied fortunes. The spectators of this majes- 
 tic, all-penetrating movement, are not merely con- 
 temporaneous nations, during the march of the 
 ages, but celestial beings of highest rank, and, it 
 may be, diversified points of abode, in the universe. 
 These heavenly intelligences are attracted to the 
 earthly theatre of the developments of the scheme 
 of redemption, as to the point of view at which 
 "the manifold wisdom of God" displays its most 
 luminous illustrations, and its most profound adap- 
 
SCHEME OF PROVIDENCE. 509 
 
 tations. Wisdom, and not mere power, is the 
 attribute most signally disclosed — wisdom, in the 
 nice poise maintained between the effective energy 
 of Divine influence and the self-active spontaneity 
 of the human will — wisdom, in the adjustment of 
 heavenly grace to the law of individual responsi- 
 bility — wisdom, in the provision of a sufficient 
 remedy for moral evil in the sacrifice of the Divine 
 Son, and the condition upon which alone this 
 remedy is efficaciously applied, faith in his blood ; 
 wisdom, in fine, manifold wisdom, in superintend- 
 ing the movements of this profoundly balanced 
 scheme, in the world; working into the Divine 
 plan, and making tributary to its ultimate success, 
 all national vicissitude, all human culture, all con- 
 flicts of thought; using subordinate agencies, and 
 making even the wrath of man to praise God. The 
 progress of Christianity seems to be subjected to 
 the common conditions of human things : errors, 
 defections, strifes, are not shut out by Divine 
 power; millions of the human race are yet un- 
 evangelized ; ages of persecution, ages of darkness, 
 ages of conflict — these are the epitome of Christian 
 story. And yet the heavenly watchers have been 
 contemplating in every one of the evolutions of this 
 sublime cause, in its ebb no less than in the swell 
 of its mighty flood, the manifold wisdom of God. 
 In their magnificent sweep of vision they have seen 
 this attribute manifested in instances innumerable, 
 in forms as illustrious as diversified ; and they anti- 
 cipate with serene confidence the final issue. How 
 
510 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 honored is that man who is permitted, under such 
 inspection, to bring the activities of a large intel- 
 lect and firm will and brave heart, assisted by the 
 Divine grace, to the service of such a cause ! 
 Surely the sleepless eye of a special Providence 
 must follow the steps of such a man. 
 
 The disinterestedness of Bishop Capers, in a 
 public life crowded with active labors, and reaching 
 through near a half century, is worthy of note. 
 There are Bishops whose annual income is fifty 
 thousand dollars. There have been Bishops who 
 amassed splendid fortunes from the emoluments of 
 their office : one leaving a half million of dollars 
 to his family at his death ; another a million and a 
 half — " non-preaching prelates," many of them, in 
 addition. Bishop Capers, it need not be said, 
 belonged not to this class of Church dignitaries. 
 All he ever received from the Church he served so 
 long and faithfully, was a bare subsistence ; eked 
 out, withal, by the sale of his patrimonial property. 
 Once or twice his personal friends relieved him 
 from the embarrassment of pressing debts ; a life- 
 estate was given him and Mrs. Capers in a residence 
 in Charleston, partly by a donation from the South 
 Carolina Conference, and partly by contributions 
 from his friends ; and occasionally some kind- 
 hearted "sister Paul" would, in spite of his deli- 
 cacy, make him a present of a coat. But the care 
 of a large family; the expenses of living, and of 
 perpetual removals ; the hospitalities which his 
 breeding, natural temper, and circumstances ne- 
 
PECUNIARY EMBARRASSMENTS. 511 
 
 cessitated, involved an outlay of money which, kept 
 him worried with petty pecuniary obligations. 
 He carried often a burden of spirit which it 
 demanded the firmest religious principle to sustain 
 with equanimity. " One thing only might I desire/' 
 he said in a communication to his brethren of the 
 South Carolina Conference in 1849, "if it were 
 God's will, concerning all the cares, business, and 
 bustle of life ; and that is, to wipe my hands clean 
 of it all now and for ever. But this might not be. 
 I have a wife and children, and may not be in- 
 different to temporal things. But my concern 
 about such things ever has been, and ever shall be, 
 limited strictly and entirely by the wants of life in 
 those dependent on me. For myself, I have no 
 wants, and know no care." In the last interview 
 but one which the writer of the present memoir 
 had with him, Bishop Capers invited him to step 
 into an adjoining room, and, with a countenance 
 beaming with satisfaction, said : " I have a bit of 
 intelligence for your private ear, which I know will 
 please you : I am about free from pecuniary em- 
 barrassment at last." He then gave a brief detail 
 of the position of his affairs, in a tone tremulous 
 with the excitement of gratitude to God for his 
 deliverance from annoyances of that class. And 
 yet. this was a man whom popularity had followed 
 for more than forty years ; whose talents, address, 
 and tried character, if directed to any of the walks 
 of secular professional life, would have insured 
 him ample property ; to whom tempting offers had 
 
512 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPEKS. 
 
 actually been made to induce a change in his 
 denominational relations. His disinterested at- 
 tachment to the itinerant Methodist ministry was 
 proof against all assaults from without, all fears 
 from within. It stirs the sentiment of the moral 
 sublime to see a man of eminent abilities, world- 
 wide reputation, and charming social qualities, con- 
 secrated by the grace of God to one work in life — 
 that of doing good to his fellows ; adhering to that 
 ^ work with a constancy which no toil can weary, no 
 discouragements appall, no illusions beguile, no 
 temptations allure ; who, with serene purpose, with 
 " the prophetic eye of faith and the fearless heart 
 of love," unb ought by gain, loyal to the last, pur- 
 sues the loftiest aim of life, the glory of God and 
 usefulness to his fellows — secures the greatest good, 
 the favor of God for ever. 
 
 In contemplating the results of such a life as 
 that of William Capers, we must not overlook the 
 important and vast benefits to society, in an ethical 
 point of view, which of necessity flow from it. 
 The Christian preacher is an embassador for Christ. 
 He proclaims the word of God, the gospel of salva- 
 tion. He is no mere lecturer on theology, soci- 
 ology, or any other science. His words are clothed 
 with the authority of his office ; and he testifies to 
 all men, " repentance toward God, and faith toward 
 our Lord Jesus Christ.'' He reasons of " righteous- 
 ness, temperance, and a judgment to come." But 
 then, just so far as he is successful in turning men 
 from sin to holiness, to that extent he is making 
 
VALUE OF MINISTERIAL FUNCTION. 513 
 
 good citizens. The law of the Spirit of life in 
 Christ Jesus, set up in the soul, brings with it the 
 law of moral restraint, curbs selfishness, expels 
 dishonesty, enthrones conscience as a ruling power, 
 gives root and sap to virtue, invests the marriage 
 relation with sanctity; and into the family, which 
 in many vital respects is the foundation of the 
 State, introduces the nurture and discipline that 
 best prepares for the grave duties of life. The 
 whole authority of this office of preaching is en- 
 forced by the retributions of the world to come. 
 Now, it is undeniable that the best guaranty for 
 public freedom is found in the spread of a social 
 virtue based on such principles. The strongest 
 antagonist to public corruption is the manly valor 
 in the bosom of the private citizen, which resists 
 and treads down, by the aid of God's grace in 
 Christ, the corruption in the heart: the selfish 
 pride, ambition, and licentiousness which, un- 
 checked, would flow out in conflict with the rights 
 of others, and put in peril every thing precious in 
 a well-ordered state of society. It is beyond the 
 reach of human calculation, of course, to estimate 
 the full value to society, to republican institutions, 
 of the direct and indirect influence of the minis- 
 terial function, kept true to its lofty and spiritual 
 ends. But it is abundantly obvious, that a faithful 
 minister of Christ, who directs his labors to the 
 great ends of his heavenly commission, becomes 
 one of the best benefactors to his country. Every 
 such preacher, as it has been well said, does more 
 22* 
 
514 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS, 
 
 to guard the interests of social life than five magis- 
 trates, armed with penal statutes, and more than 
 five hundred visionary philosophers, with the best 
 theories of the perfectibility of man. Dr. Capers 
 held^ himself fixedly aloof from all parties and 
 politics ; never attended public dinners, or made 
 after-dinner speeches ; did not even so much as 
 vote at public elections — not to talk of desecrating 
 the pulpit to the vile ends of political demagogue- 
 ism. Near the close of the General Conference of 
 1844, when the eyes of the whole country were 
 fixed upon the proceedings in the case of Bishop 
 Andrew, Mr. Calhoun addressed a note to Dr. Ca- 
 pers, inviting him to stop at Washington City on 
 his way home, and favor him with a personal inter- 
 view in respect to the probable course of the 
 Southern Conferences. Dr. Capers thought it best 
 to decline the invitation, lest it should be said, as 
 indeed it was afterward shamelessly and repeatedly 
 said in the Northern and North-western papers of 
 the Church, that the politicians and preachers were 
 in council. To Caesar let the things of Caesar 
 belong, was his maxim. Yet, in his own sphere 
 and proper vocation, how nobly he served his 
 country the foregoing considerations will show. 
 From this point of view, his life would be the 
 record of a potent instrumentality in the moral 
 triumphs and social progress of his time and nation. 
 With all the emphasis of truth was it said over 
 his coffined remains, that he u served his generation." 
 The direct spiritual good accomplished by the 
 
LITERARY REMAINS. 
 
 515 
 
 ministry of such a man, can be fully known only 
 at the revelation of the great day. If the award 
 of that day shall be, "Well done, good and faithful 
 servant," it will be enough. It were a success for 
 the faithful minister of Christ, beyond all the lau- 
 relled prizes of earth, to save his own soul. But 
 success in his ministry did largely crown the labors 
 of Bishop Capers. Many were the seals God gave 
 to his honored servant ; much the fruit which fol- 
 lowed his exertions. The persons brought under 
 serious concern — brought to repentance and faith 
 in Christ— under a single address of his, were 
 numbered by scores. The whole course of his min- 
 istry tended to the edification of the Church. And 
 in the midst of this Church he stood as a shining 
 pillar, covered with trophies of victory. 
 
 He has left behind him no literary monument, 
 save the Autobiography prefixed to this memoir, 
 the Catechisms for the negro missions, and Short 
 Sermons and True Tales for children, written for 
 the Sunday School Visitor, and since his death 
 published in a neat little volume, by Dr. Summers. 
 He was formed in the vigorous school of active 
 life, and the incessant travel and constant preaching 
 of his earlier years left him no time for the severer 
 studies which are necessary to successful author- 
 ship in the fields of theology, metaphysics, or moral 
 science. This early contact with the practical re- 
 alities of life, while it fostered the energy by which 
 he forced his way to eminence and usefulness, was 
 unpropitious to scholarly habits. He had the 
 
516 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM CAPERS. 
 
 elements of a great preacher in Mm. Preaching 
 was to be his work for life. It was to him, it is 
 to any man, the noblest of all possible vocations. 
 In the sphere of great labors which he filled in 
 the Methodist Church, from his twentieth to his 
 thirty-fifth year, the special need was for men of 
 ready, keen, vigorous action, of eloquent, influen- 
 tial speech. That he should be a cloistered student, 
 and at the same time a man of the people, a man 
 of action, an orator, and a leader in affairs, was 
 not to be looked for. However rapid in his mental 
 combinations, and original and vigorous in his 
 grasp of thought, there are other qualifications for 
 authorship which he well knew his circumstances 
 had not allowed him to develop. Nor did any 
 ambition of the sort trouble him. His proper 
 sphere of service he filled wisely, judiciously, suc- 
 cessfully. He was one of the master-spirits of the 
 second generation of Southern Methodists ; a 
 worthy successor of Asbury, Hull, Humphries, 
 and Daugherty; intrepid, whole-hearted, well- 
 poised, strong in influence that had been nobly 
 won by great labors ; a doer of things worthy to be 
 written ; inheriting a dignity unapproached by him 
 who has merely written things worthy to be read. 
 Having applied the activities of life to the loftiest 
 uses, he has passed into the City of God, where, in 
 the domain of spirits for ever blessed and glorified, 
 those activities will ever move on, 
 
 " While life, and thought, and being last, 
 Or immortality endures."