Autobiography of Rev. Emerson Andrews

Emerson Andrews

When I was quite young I had a strong desire to see the wide world, and this feeling increased with age and experience, till I was willing to make almost any sacrifice to realize my beau idéal of traveling abroad. But though I had enjoyed much home travel, the way seemed to be hedged up against my foreign travel, or beset with so many difficulties that it was deferred from time to time, till Providence smiled. For years I was preparing, with hope firm and buoyant; and the wished-for boon at last was enjoyed.

DELAY.

Soon after my dear father’s decease I might have seized the opportunity, having the time and needed funds; but I felt constrained, by moral and filial obligations to my dear mother and to the younger members of our family, to decline the tempting pleasure and privilege, and try to make home a paradise for a while.

I was also very anxious for an education — a liberal if not a professional one, and would willingly make any sacrifice to secure the coveted prize. My means, however, being limited, I resolved to husband my patrimony, and use every available resource to get through college, and then to travel the world over.

CHANGE.

About this time I became exceedingly anxious about my soul’s salvation, gave all up to Christ, found peace in believing, and went on my way rejoicing.

The whole world, with a “new world,” now opened to my expanded vision, and a higher line of travel. A new era in my life had now commenced. I saw many millions of my fellow-beings, of divers nations, afar and near, lying in sin and the darkness of heathenism, ensconced in ignorance, morality, formality, or vice, popery or infidelity, and living without hope or God in the world. Alas! alas! Already a missionary zeal had been kindled in my breast, and now broke forth into a constant flame.

PREPARATION.

In Union College I soon became a member of the Society for Missionary Inquiry. I read, thought, talked; and while I mused the purifying fire burned, till I felt like going anywhere and preaching the glad tidings, faithfully and freely as air, water or sunlight, for the welfare of all mankind. I was commissioned, and “signs followed.”

FIELD.

So, I was seriously considering and praying over the subject of establishing a mission in France, and was studying French with that in view. But orders were received, that it was indispensably necessary, or highly important for a minister, before being sent out, to secure a wife.” Well, here was an unexpected, if not an insuperable obstacle thrown directly across my cheerful path. In the first place, I knew of none willing, ready, or fitted to go with me as missionary, or to make me an eligible or happy partner. And must I wait, or relinquish the whole enterprise? In the second place, though in a state of mind and heart to appreciate a true helpmeet, and to be grateful for any such god-send, yet from my soul I protested against such official usurpation, expediency, dictation, or intermeddling with our personal and private affairs. The pope binds his priests to celibacy, and now the Board of Missions demands the opposite. Both extremes seemed equally unscriptural, unreasonable, and ungenerous — alike anti-Christ and anti-Paul — a Spirit-grieving assumption of power. Neither the church, nor pope, nor missionary board has any godly right to legislate on this matter.

But while looking for a more effectual open door, or whatever way God
might reveal to me, I entered with all my heart into revival work at home, and awaited God’s time for my traveling voyage. I was very successful in building up feeble churches, and was thus almost continually engaged for the first four years of my ministry. Subsequently I labored constantly as an evangelist.

SUBMISSION.

Year after year rolled away, but I was so engaged in “home work” that I could not, without crossing Providence, go abroad to recuperate my energies, or to spy out a foreign field. I did deny myself in this respect, till, by overworking in powerful revivals, my health and strength became much reduced, and called loudly for rest, recreation, and recovery. My calls to conduct “extra meetings” were so numerous that it was difficult for me to break away and enjoy a vacation.

Sometimes, though much debilitated, I would question, whether on the whole I could not accomplish more good by staying at home than by going abroad to preach or visit. I felt weak and fearful.

I hesitated lest I should go before “I was sent,” or lest I might act like Jonah. I then thought of waiting at home and preaching, what I was able to do, till the great revival harvest, then being gathered and gleaned, should be “shouted home.” Again I was too much worn to labor as I had done, and felt unfit to travel, or to preach abroad. Here I was in a fix, bad enough.

I lingered a while longer, tried various expedients for my restoration to health with but little or no success. I then resigned my temporary charge of the Baptist church at Reading, Pennsylvania, and visited my dear mother and friends in New England, and made ready for my foreign enterprises.

COUNSEL.

After much prayer and deliberation, — after much pious counsel, and many wise suggestions from Rev. Baron Stow, D. D. of Boston, and Deacon William Colgate, of New York, and many other good, sage, and godly brethren, — I thanked God and took courage, ignoring my old objections and conscientious scruples about “spending so much time and money in traveling abroad to other countries, while there were easier or more promising fields at home.” Trusting in God, and having made all due preparation, without fear or hesitation I bade my friends a cheerful farewell.

SAILED.

In June, 1846, with my fare paid, passport in hand, money in pocket, and all things arranged, I took cabin passage in the sail ship Liberty, Captain Norton, for Liverpool, England. I paid only fifty dollars fare.

Here I gave up all worrying about myself and prospects, and committed myself, friends, churches, and converts to the care-keeping God, feeling that “all was well.”

I fared well on board, enjoyed the sail, and after a voyage of three weeks, arrived safely in Liverpool. On our passage I was delighted with the fine porpoises playing about our ship, and with the whales afar off. The nautilus, with their extended sails, in swarms swimming on the surface by wind-power, looked beautifully.

As we were entering the Channel the fog-bells arrested my attention, being hung on anchored buoys so as to ring by the agitated waves, and sound a warning voice to the befogged or lost mariner. O, how much like the gospel preacher! thought I. Rocks, or shoals, or woes were near.

ENGLAND, IRELAND, SCOTLAND.

LIVERPOOL.

Having spent a delightful week in the city and vicinity, visiting the chief

buildings, places, personages, sights, and cemeteries, I left for the Emerald Isle.

DUBLIN.

A city two miles square, well laid out and built, beautiful and neat, containing two hundred thousand citizens. Here I spent a week; heard the truly great and eloquent O’Connell speak for two hours, in Conciliation Hall, to two thousand interested and spellbound hearers. I was introduced to him, and was honored with a seat at his side. At his request I also visited him at his fine mansion. This “old metropolis” is an excellent, grand, costly, model city; one of the finest I have ever visited. The Parliament buildings, Trinity Colleges, monuments, and mansions were of excellent material, proportions, finish — really superb — like the first class Irishmen, no “blarney.”

O’Connell was tall, bony, broad-shouldered, erect, sinewy, dark-complexioned, strong-featured, quick-spoken, emphatic and precise, bold and self-possessed, and often very sarcastic. I found him very hearty and genial in conversation and hospitalities. Our southern Calhoun was, perhaps, the most like him of any one whom I can name.

RIDE.

I next went via rail and stage to Belfast, through a thickly-settled, rich, well-cultivated country. By the way, it was expected by most of the country people, that Father Mathew, the hero of temperance in Ireland, was to pass by on that day. So they lined the stage road with multitudes of all classes to see the great high priest, and supposed they were enjoying the unspeakable privilege, when, with uncovered heads, open arms, flying handkerchiefs, and vociferous shouts, they bowed and paid their devotions to myself, greatly to the amusement of our appreciative traveling company. If the self-deceived zealots have not yet discovered their mistake, many still vainly rejoice. But it may have been just as well for them as the reality.

BELFAST.

This city is a well-constructed, “Scotch-Irish,” fine, enterprising, manufacturing, thriving town of forty thousand inhabitants. I was here at the time of their great potato-blast famine,” while there was much anxiety, beggary, prostration, distress, crime, and mortality all over the island. I found the common people quite in the advance of those in Dublin, and possessed of Scottish habits.

GLASGOW.

I soon left, by steamboat, for this enterprising Scotland city, of one hundred and fifty thousand people. This is a wide-spread, but in parts thickly-settled, filthy, smoky, disagreeable town, noted for its tall, smoking, gassy chimney-stacks. It is a manufacturing place, with much vice, ignorance, and poverty around the moneyed aristocracy.

The cemetery and the “upper part” were really the only obvious clean, tasty, delightful spots. The churches and some of the public buildings were very fine. The cemetery is one of the most beautiful, and variegated, and grand to be imagined.

EDINBURGH.

I next went, via rail, through a rich, cultivated, thickly-settled country, overrun with rabbits, crows, and other ordinarily wild creatures, tame as barnyard pets, till I reached the clean, picturesque, literary, monumental city of Edinburgh. This celebrated city is on the sea-side, overlooking most splendid scenery in rich variety. The old part is nice as eastern cities in general, but the new part is excellent, well constructed of fine light sandstone, with splendid public buildings on large squares and wide streets. The ground is just uneven enough, and the hills are delightful. The colleges, court-house, Waterloo Rooms, churches, and monuments, are worthy of the place. The monument of Walter Scott is a splendid novelty

Everything bespoke mind, taste, wealth, literature, energy, power. Would that all were sanctified to virtue, temperance, and religion! I attended one of their great hustings; heard great political speeches from doctors of divinity and the honorables, full of fire and Scotch eloquence. I visited the palace and death-room of the “bloody Mary,” Queen of Scots.

NEWCASTLE.

After a pleasant and profitable week amidst beauty, wisdom, style, education, greatness, conventions, and celebrities, I took leave, via steamboat, for Newcastle-on-Tyne. Beautiful scenery by the way. Here I spent Lord’s day; enjoyed worship in a plain chapel; made many new acquaintances. Met our brother Pangilly, the “Baptismal Essayist;” enjoyed good Christian privileges around their coal fires for a while, and left, via railroad, for the great metropolis.

LONDON.

In this metropolitan city of the Protestant world I spent quite a number of weeks. As I was a delegate to the World’s Temperance Convention, and to the Evangelical Alliance, and other meetings, to be held in England, I shared special privileges among the dignitaries, and great doings at Exeter Hall and in divers halls and rooms, with Frederick Douglass, Elihu Burritt, Dr. Cox, Dr. Baird, Dr. Jabez Burns, and many other notables of the wide world. Here we spoke on temperance, on Christian union and missions, with success.

WORLD’S TEMPERANCE CONVENTION.

This was very interesting, and well attended.

DELEGATES.

It was also the second to which American delegates had been accredited.

At the former Elder N. Colver, D. D. and others, were the honored delegates. But the latter much excelled in numbers and power. “Many of the former delegation,” said an Englishman, “broke their pledges before the wine-cup.” Besides those already noticed, there were delegated Rev. Drs. E. N. Kirk, P. Church (?), Peck, Marsh, Lyman Beecher, and many others, from the United States. We were received in London with open arms, hearts, and homes. Frederick Douglass had just escaped from American slavery, and become a volunteer to unfurl the banner of Liberty and Temperance in England. Many English Quakers took a prominent part in our meetings, and were really the most active and conspicuous in the temperance reform. Mr. Stewart, a gentleman of great wealth and influence, did much, and gave largely of his substance. English ministers, with a few marked exceptions, stood aloof, as then they generally drank wine, ale, beer, and sometimes whiskey and brandy. We met with some scaly opposition and invidious thrusts from the worshipers of Bacchus, but found some godly temperate ministers and honest laymen to stand by us in the good work — which has since prospered. Said an Englishman to me, Drinking is the rule, and abstinence is the exception, even among the clergy.” I was an honored guest, during our convention, of a Quaker merchant, near the spot where John Rogers suffered martyrdom, being burned to death at Smithfield for his godliness, under the persecuting reign of the “cruel Queen Mary” in l555. l often gazed on this memorable spot, asking myself whether l might possibly prove worthy, or ever wear the martyr’s crown, as many other preachers and reformers had done. I said, “I will do my duty, cost what it may.”

Here the sainted Professor Caldwell, of Pennsylvania, was a star, an electric speaker with us, and a devoted minister. You may recollect that he died soon after his return, saying to his dear wife while on in death-bed, “Don’t, my dear, visit my future grave in the glooms of the evening shades, but in the bright morning, when the birds are singing so sweetly — as I shall be in heaven singing.”

Truly we had some choice spirits there, even godlike. The pioneers of temperance were energetic and prompt at the meetings, and others dropped in occasionally. One special meeting was held at the Covent Garden Theatre. Mr. Stewart was in the chair. Here Drs. Lyman Beecher, E. N. Kirk, Cox, and Mr. Frederick Douglass delighted us with their great and flowing eloquence.

Subsequently a meeting was held at Dr. Jabez Burns’ Chapel, at which Dr. Beecher, Mr. Muzzy, M. D. author of the Temperance Stomach Plates,” and Emerson Andrews were the honored speakers. Truly we had a precious season. I was then invited to preach in the same Baptist chapel on the coming Lord’s day; and so I did. (I have preached for Dr. Burns a number of times since. At a Sunday school celebration I was introduced as the chief speaker. I there gave an outline of my late “Travels in Bible Lands,” and took the occasion officiously to call for a special vote on this wise: “All who wish more on the subject of Palestine, better said or made into a book, and will raise money to send your beloved pastor over the same fields, please signify the same by rising.” This was unanimously carried. The next year he went; and sent me, in America, his regards.)

Much good was done at the daily meetings at the hall, and in the evenings at remote and scattered school-houses in various parts of the city, by our gatherings and social interviews, and by preaching on Lord’s days in different pulpits, as well as by our strict example. Only one clerical delegate — a D. D. from America — was known to betray the temperance cause. But he was rebuked there by myself, and, after his return to America, was publicly disowned in New York city, at the “Reunion Jubilee,” by our faithful delegates.

We continued in regular session, and in evening itinerate speaking, for two weeks, and then “adjourned to ratify our principles and resolutions,” thanking our hosts. The cause there has slowly and surely gained, and is now flourishing.

EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE.

We met in London, and soon commenced our preliminary sessions or preparations, in the London Division, with which I was very early associated. Having been invited by the English brethren to their convention, and delegated by the Baptist church of Reading, Penn. to represent them abroad, I, of course, was early on the ground, and at my post. By courtesy I was permitted to serve with the English Division in preparing a program for the proposed regular Alliance meeting. We met daily for a week, and did our best to secure the object.

Our meetings were interesting and profitable, and our social intercourse generally pleasant. I loathed the English drinking and smoking proclivities. Our cordial reciprocity, fervent love, and close fellowship were greatly diminished by such habits. But I was very grateful for what blessings I did experience.

FIRST FRUITS.

The day before the opening of the regular sessions of the Evangelical Alliance, we held a kind of general conference, or class meetings in which each member gave an epitome of his religious views, experience, desires, and resolutions. This was truly one of the most interesting, warm, inciting, weeping, joyful, and Pentecostal meetings I ever attended. I doubt if such a precious season had been witnessed since the days of the apostles, except in some of our most powerful revivals in America.

FEAST.

For three weeks, in regular session, we enjoyed much of the earnest reciprocity of heaven. We fared well in soul and body. Our meetings generally were very spirited, harmonious, dignified, and devotional. Now and then something on temperance, or baptism, or slavery, or sectarianism, would awaken a little of old Adam, or a little rejoinder, and break a few lances over the subject. Then all would go on in glowing brotherly love. Occasionally the red, sparkling, deceitful wine manifested its power. The Americans generally stood up boldly for their principles.

CONVENTION.

Sir Cullen Eardley Smith presided with great ability, dignity, and impartiality, and exerted a very spiritual influence upon all around.

You can hardly imagine a more imposing spectacle than these solemn, diversified, active conclaves since the day of Pentecost. More than twelve hundred delegates were in attendance from all parts of Christendom, and the major part were ministers of the gospel. Here you see Revs, or Drs. Bunting, Cumings, Raffles, Wardlaw, Bickersteth, Cox, Hoby, Nowel, Burns, Wilson, Clarke, Hinton, Steine, J. Oneken, Monod, Beecher, Cox, Kirk, Peck, Church, Olin, Baird, Brainard, CaldweIl, De Witt, Marsh, Andrews, and many other representatives — comprising a nucleus of wisdom, piety, energy, worthy of the visible ecumenical church of Christ on earth. What a body! O, behold them! What a power for good if filled with the Spirit! Lo, the aged, the learned, the venerable, the pioneers, the persecuted, the victorious, the missionary, the eloquent, the pious, the honorable, the hero, the successful, joined here in “close communion sweets.” Our union was wonderful and glorious. The wise, noble, and live men of the world spoke, prayed, and did important business, moving three worlds. A radiating council, — the lights of the world in debate and exhortation, in devotion and enterprise, — how momentous, lasting, and salutary in reforming sects and the world!

OBJECT.
The real and avowed object of the Alliance was a noble, good, stupendous, Christian work the union of all the gospel elements in the churches; the extirpation of sin, error, and infidelity; the revival. of pure religion, and the conversion of the whole world.

May the Lord, by his word, his spirit, people, and providences, give us continued success. O, let us give God all the glory, as we shall possess the kingdom.

LAWS

One of our rules was, to “cultivate the points of union till all the others should disappear.” And another rule was, that “Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Lutherans, and other denominations represented, might and should declare and act their peculiar sentiments freely. But if any one could not therewith exhibit the graces of the Spirit, and act the Christian gentleman, he should, or had better, change his creed and life speedily as possible.” But any “departure from these injunctions would render the offending member subject to Christian discipline.” Good!

MEMORY.

I love to reflect on those refreshing days, when Dr. Kirk and other good Pedobaptists confessed, as they said, with shame and repentance, their former sectarianism, and made their firm resolves to amend for the future, so as to “keep the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace.” There was evidently a right breaking up and mellowing of heart and soul. Yes, it is soul-ennobling, heart-elevating and invigorating, to contemplate an organization with an object so comprehensive, evangelical, spiritual, and sublime. Whatever else of minor moment, of side issues, of local interests, of superficial differences might rise up to view, the grand essentials of doctrine, experience, and practice wonder fully united us all to the great center. We felt the focal refining power of love in Christian union.

EFFECTS.

Our resolutions, rules, by-laws, and recommendations were salutary in application, and are even felt strongly at the present day. Many improvements, doubtless, may have been suggested and applied by experience. Much good has been effected already, and infinitely more, God helping, shall be done. The danger to be guarded against is seen in the gathering of strangers, heterogeneous elements, the old devices of Satan, slothful confidence, and faithless worriment. Pride may go with a sickly conscience, while death steals in upon us. We may differ world-wide about the form, time, and expediency of doing things; but Christians agree wonderfully upon the key-note for accomplishing good objects. Our captain, trumpet, and destiny are all one — good. The name of Jesus has the magic ring, charm, and harmony in practice as in the cross. What lovely days we shared! and how sweet their present and future memory!

REVIEW.

We met day after day at the hall of the Free Mason’s Tavern,” in holy conference. We prayed, we sang in divers languages the songs of Canaan. We spoke with numerous tongues, and gave the friendly look, the cheerful smile, and open hand. We debated great points at issue, settled important questions, took sweet counsel together, formed good resolutions, ate and drank except the wine, ale, and brandy, and acted together, till we gave each other a blessed farewell, with the doxology.

“SPOTS.”

Some of the English delegates and their neighbors, I am sorry to say, “imbibed” quite too freely. This I saw for myself, and it was also verified at the tune by sifted facts. The butlers of the tavern where we met informed me that “they served out to the Alliance guests, at each dinner, on an average, at four o’clock P.M. all of six gallons of beer or ale, thirty-six bottles of wine and some brandy.” My heart recoiled at the sight, and the record. I blushed with shame for those who had no blush but that of wine. How inconsistent it was with our professed object! O, we should reform, and rebuke intemperance and treason as occasion offers. These discrepancies aside, we enjoyed a paradise. Differences ignored, suspended, or buried, we were one in Christ, in object, in effort, in hope, and final home. Here on our pilgrimage, we enjoyed another oasis in the desert — a soul-refreshing feast.

REFLEX.

Each person promoting and extolling the alliance, by consequence elevated himself without selfish intentions. Often, of one, the magic influence fired up as with electricity the whole company. At times we were under eloquent speaking, loud shouts, constant cheering, as, “Hear! Hear! Glory! Amen! Thank God!” accompanied with clapping of hands, tapping of feet, and pounding of canes. (I disliked the raising of dust more than the discordant, vulgar sounds of applause.) But I could, in charity, make allowances for these irregularities, as some of the speakers were very eloquent, and some of the hearers were apparently stimulated otherwise, and must act accordingly as they felt. Yet many, no doubt, committed these episodes from habits of intercourse with politicians.

TRAITS.

The English are generally very firm, if not stubborn — a little dictatorial and dogmatical — a little heavy and dry — sometimes awkward, impatient, severe, arrogant, haughty, officious, disputative, especially so before Americans. Often they seem to ask, “Shall the mother take lessons of her daughter?” But John Bull has taken some, and may learn many more practical lessons of wisdom and submission. Yet the mother bears pretty well the growth, precocity, and prosperity of Young America. A little of the angular, antique, pompous, or envious would occasionally crop out; but it was with as dignified grace as could well be assumed by the “bred classes.”

They would at times feel nettled because we could not conform to all their habits and prejudices; and also seemed disinclined to equality, liberty, temperance, and to our independence. Truly we have inherited some of these traits. So we discovered our human weaknesses, and the power of grace in our elevation and the points of union.

CLOSE.

Thus, after days and weeks of precious interchanges, devotions, efforts, comfort, successes, enterprises, triumphs, and abounding hospitalities, and substantial courtesies, we sang a hymn in four different languages, in the spirit of Canaan, and bade each other an everlasting farewell, hoping to meet and reunite in that holy alliance in glory, to sing the new song forever. Thus we separated, and were scattered to all points of Christendom.

LONDON.

This city is well situated on the River Thames, and contains a population of some three millions. The Parliament House, and Westminster Abbey, just opposite, are large, solid, splendid structures, well adapted to their uses. They are on the north bank of the river, at the west end of the city, of Gothic style, with fine finish, furniture, and surroundings.

Trafalgar is truly grand and worthy of contemplation. The British Museum is large, and full of rich, fine, numerous, common, and rare specimens from all parts of the world; but the arrangement is inversely poor and unworthy, as compared with the Paris museums. Order and taste are necessary as fine materials. Manner is sometimes — matter.

The Towers of London, and their concomitants, are worth seeing and studying. St. Paul’s Church, the old Bailey, the Colosseum, the Thames Tunnel, the bridges, the parks, gardens, squares, animals, groves, plants, with majestic country seats, queenly palaces, in and out of the city, are well worth the visit, and will pay an American scholar, on sight, to cross the Atlantic. You may learn of antiquity and modern things.

VISIT TO FRANCE.

After spending some weeks in London, I took the steamer to Havre and Rouen, then the rail to Paris, the finest city of the world. Havre is the seaport of France, old, small, and rather forbidding, except the new part, which is very promising.

Rouen, at the head of ship navigation, is old, antiquated, and marked with signs of former prosperity. Our ride to Paris was delightful — through a rich and well-settled and cultivated country.

PARIS.

This is the great capital of France, or is France itself, in miniature and power. It is a condensed, active, liberal, political, and fashionable centre of the civilized world. Here the world comes and goes. It is situated on the beautiful meandering River Seine; containing a population of over a million and a half; is finely built, and is surrounded with splendid mansions, villages, gardens, farms, and factories. The ground and country about are beautifully undulating, rich, and productive.

Here arts, science, literature, luxury, refined vice and crime, sinful, artistic, and new fashions, occupy an influential center, and give tone, taste, models, inventions, influence, and character to leading nations of the globe. Would to God that all were ruled for moral and religious purity and happiness! But what a “white-washed Sodom!”

The city is large, populous, walled, moated, fortified, and beautified. The Tuileries, the monuments, the statues, the squares and parks, the Zoological and Botanical Gardens, the Louvre and museums, the fountains, cemeteries, cathedrals, hotels, palaces, ample streets except the old parts, groves and pools, claim the attention of all tourists, the student or divine.

JUBILEE.

I was delighted with the exhibitions at the “grand fêtes” of Napoleon I. on the 27—29th of July, in memory of French liberty. The celebration was a magnificent and splendid affair, especially that of the last day and evening. It was thought that one hundred thousand people of all classes, from city and country, were present. The chief places were all thronged by divers classes, of all tastes, amusements, and gratifications, apparently enjoying the anniversary festivities. The Boulevards, the Champs Elysées, the gardens and squares, were moving with merry life and novel scenes.

The soldiers were in grand display. The citizens were walking, riding, sporting, or observing sights. The ladies and gentlemen were manifest in great numbers, of all classes, styles, and manners, going to and fro, or gazing at lofty tumbling, riding the fandangoes, sharing games of chance, dancing, or other amusements. Exquisite music was a constant accompaniment. Delicious viands, fruits, drinks, cakes, candies, cordials, and sparkling wine gave specious charm to the jubilee.

I was happily surprised to see such general quiet, order, temperance, civility, philosophic taste, easy activity, and mutual satisfaction evinced at this great entertainment. No apparent drunkenness, quarreling, rowdyism, profanity, vulgarity, or immorality was seen, to mar the object of their memorable festivities.

CLIMAX

The 29th — the last day of the feast — was the crowning holiday, and the evening gave the climax of grand exhibitions.

While the multitudes were thronging the squares about the great Tuileries, to behold and hear the king, — all eyes being fixed, — Louis Philippe appeared on the balcony, and was instantly shot at by one of the crowd.

A momentary sensation, the culprit arrested, order restored, and the king delivered his oration. At first he hesitated and trembled, but soon recovered his royal tone and firmness, and closed with animated feeling and earnest eloquence.

WONDERS.

Soon after came the wonderful pyrotechnics — the most artistic, ingenious, costly, brilliant, exciting, and sublime fire-works that I ever witnessed or imagined. At first up flew the rockets, high and fast, burning and bursting with vivid, various colors in all directions. Next rose up and leaved out majestically, in mid heavens, a big pot of ribbon grass, standing for a minute in full view, and then vanishing away. Soon a mammoth vase of variegated flowers began to bloom out in its ascension, making a huge bouquet as it culminated and stood out in bold relief— a splendid sight! — and it was gone.

Then appeared rising something like a new moon, gradually filling up to the size of a large globe, growing clearer with lines, bounds, sea and land, till all the four quarters of the globe stood forth with their defined limits, in bright, legible marks and characters, — America, Europe, Asia, Africa, — with names of islands. All parts were evolved in clear and quick succession, in skillful order, with surpassing grandeur — blooming out and looming up in high positions, full, flush, and conspicuous for a moment, to the astonished multitudes of delighted witnesses, and then disappeared.

But what next? A grand climax — a crowning finale! The posts, columns, statues, monuments, arches, fences, bridges, wires, — like water fountains flying, — all at once seemed glittering and streaming with playful fires — whistling, dancing, running, quivering, throwing their freakish, fantastic flames in circles, jets, waves, forks, fitful scintillations in all directions — more varied, picturesque, grand, and captivating than thousands of water fountains playing all possible antics. Last of all the scene, a terrific explosion was heard, as of running musketry or light artillery. Soon a volume of dense smoke ascended the starry heavens. A glimmering coruscation blazed forth. Then came a rolling flame, making darkness visible — lighting up the entire city with awful grandeur! But alas! “What is this? I hear a bursting, as of thunder, or magazines! Is there a mighty mishap? — a fatal, awful catastrophe?” I cried aloud. Has the powder magazine exploded? Or all the fire-works at once got on fire? Why so careless? Shall we all be burned to death?” I thought of the judgment. But O, the delusion! it was the glorious finale — it capped the climax — and the scene was closed.

The hallucination passed away and I took a long breath. I never shall forget these wonderful exhibitions, and the varied and thrilling emotions of the “Jubilee Celebration.” All displays of fire-works which I have since witnessed seem really faint and puerile.

O, if France were as wise and energetic in morals and religion, what a nation of power and salvation to the world we should see! Would that they were filled with truth, the spirit, and the glory of the cross!

HOMEWARD.

Returning, I came via rail to the Straits of Dover, so through old England,

and home to America, eventually.

On my way I enjoyed the sight of Birmingham, a noted manufacturing town, and the home of the departed Rev. John Angell James, whom I once knew only to love and enjoy. His books are like himself: “The Earnest Ministry,” “Earnest Church,” and other works, interesting and immortal. This is an old city of one hundred thousand citizens, with many spacious buildings, surrounded by a fine, fertile, thickly-settled country, highly prosperous.

We passed on, at the rate of forty miles per hour, through an undulating, productive region, interspersed with fields, groves, villages, and factories, shooting through tunnels a mile long, till we merged into the light and liberty of Liverpool, where I first landed.

SIGHTS.

This city is a grand seaport, comprising six docks, covering one hundred acres of ground, besides other dockage, and a population and influence second only to London. The center is chiefly occupied with a heavy, bulky, and wholesale business, and of a multifarious order. Yet much other business is done. Some of the public buildings are good and even splendid, amidst many “eye-sores” in the dark places. The market places are superb. The cemeteries are beautified by nature and art. I was much delighted.

ITEMS.

I preached in the mariners’ Bethel ship, and enjoyed other services. Drs. McNeil and Hugh Stowel Brown were the pulpit “stars” of the religious galaxy, and their influence was powerful and extensive. Their eloquence was not surpassed in England.

The morals of Liverpool, like its streets, were on a par with the worst of seaport places. The sailors and their vile associations were very obvious.

I had a slight view of Wales, with its romantic and delightful scenery. After some two weeks more of pleasant sojourn, I took passage on board the sail ship Metoka, Captain McLarran, for New York.

RETURN SAIL.

On the 10th of September, 1846, we set sail for America. On the 20th, the equinoctial Storm came upon us with great power and vehemence. Our company comprised three hundred and forty-six souls, mostly Irish emigrants.

WRECK.

At every fell stroke of the sea, most all on board seemed badly frightened. Some yelled as each successive wave broke over us; others prayed, till at length a mountain wave rolled over us, carrying away our masts and tackle, and sweeping the decks. The sea rushed into the cabins, down the hold, and made wild desolation before and abaft. O, the consternation! What fear, anxiety, cries, and prayers! l shall never forget them, or erase the spectacle. God, in mercy, spared us, “and we were glad.” We lightened the ship, fitted up old sails and jury-masts, and made sail, as best we could, to the “passage” of Cork, Ireland. Blessed refuge. Here we found Irish hearts, big as the Emerald Island.

I often preached, gave temperance addresses, supped, dined, visited schools and nunneries, with the brethren, the nobility, and with the Very Right Reverend Father Theobald Mathew. The company, hospitalities, and privileges I here very much enjoyed for nine weeks.

This is a city of some two hundred thousand inhabitants, of every variety of style and charm. The elevation, terraces, cemeteries, the fine streets and water-courses give it great beauty.

The “potato-blast” famine made awful havoc, and proved the benevolence and kindness of the upper classes. I really enjoyed the friendship of the warm, whole-hearted Irish, and regretted our separation.

RESAIL.

On the 8th of December, on the same ship, repaired at sixteen thousand dollars’ cost, with fresh outfit, we again sailed for New York. For eight ensuing days we sailed swiftly on, and made the Great Banks of Newfoundland. Then a dead calm overtook us, and for two weeks we gained only two hundred miles. Soon as we had mastered the calm, numerous squalls, and head winds, we sailed fast into New York Bay, and were thrice glad to return safe and sound, after a varied, interesting, successful, seven months’ tour.

The following letter, as published, on my return to America, in the Christian Chronicle, may be of interest.

GREAT STORM AND SHIPWRECK.

WRECK OF TUE METOKA.

MR. EDITOR: Permit me, through your excellent Chronicle, to give a short detail of my recent voyage.

“I left New York on the 10th of June ultimo, in the ship Liberty, and after twenty-four days of fine sail reached Liverpool. I went rather as an invalid, for the restoration of health, than as a delegate or a tourist. After visiting Ireland, Scotland, England, and France, and attending the ‘World’s Temperance Convention,’ ‘Evangelical Alliance,’ and various other meetings, I bade my transatlantic friends farewell, and took passage, at Liverpool, in the ship Metoka, Captain McLarran, for New York. We sailed, September l0, with twelve passengers in the cabin, three hundred and twelve in the steerage, and a crew of twenty-two men. With a fair breeze and fine ship we soon lost sight of land, and entered the wide Atlantic. With the exception of seasickness, all was pleasant till the 18th, when signs of a storm constrained us to shorten sail. The I9th brought the equinoctial gale with dread vehemence. The officers and men were vigilant and active; reparations were soon made, and we lay to under close-reefed fore and main topsails. The storm grew more violent. The morning of the 20th came with no small tempest. Our ship rolled and pitched badly; so great and quick was her motion, that we could not stand, sit, or lie still, but were jostled about, thrown down, wrenched or bruised severely by every lurch. Articles of furniture, in the cabin and state-rooms, often broke loose, and dashed about with much noise and violence — exciting most painful apprehensions. This was a memorable Lord’s day. The Bible was closely read — the twenty-seventh Chapter of Acts faithfully examined, the one hundred and seventh Psalm better understood, and many prayers fervently offered to Almighty God. Night came on — all was awful and portentous. A death-gloom hung over us — solemnity rested on every countenance — eternity seemed just in view.

About eight o’clock a heavy sea broke amid-ships, dashed fore and aft, and down the hatchways, drenching some and terrifying others. A general yell, a groan, a prayer, and all were silent. It was a prelude, a summons to preparation. A severer stroke was in reserve, while the raging storm held us in painful suspense. Sleep fled. Retrospect and prospect alternately took the precedence. Regret, hope, and prayer were oft commingled, as every moment whispered, ‘The time is short’— ‘the sea will have its victim, and none escape to tell the story.’ Here one felt for a widowed mother, anticipating the anxiety and suspense which our sad fate might awaken in her bosom, unable to know our dying words or latest history, while others evinced a like sympathy for partners, kindred, and friends. It was a prayerful night. Many were deeply anxious, and felt themselves shaking over an awful gulf. They saw their impotence, and sued for grace. At this juncture it was consoling to believe our Father was at the helm, and would rule all for good, for the welfare of his children and the glory of his name.

The morning of the 21st came, and with it a dreadful blow, as if a thunder-clap, an earthquake, or death itself had come. Tremendous shock! Our ship trembled from stem to stern, as if going to atoms. Terror seized afresh the timid soul, as if lost and sealed for the judgment. A shriek, a rush, a wild exclamation, and the tale was told. A mighty sea had struck our ship’s bow, carried away the bowsprit, jib-boom, fore mast, main-topmast, with ten yards and sails, figurehead, stem, and cut-water, leaving bare the apron and plank ends down to the water’s edge, and fast filling the hold — washed the sailors from their berths, destroyed the galley, cook-house and apparatus, swept overboard our fresh provisions, stove ten hogsheads of water, and left on deck some thirty tons of sea, dashing fore and aft, sending every movable adrift to consummate the wreck. It was an awful crisis. The sailors stood aghast, and said all hope was lost. The passengers thought the ship was sinking, and their destiny sealed forever. But no; though mind and nerves were tested, skill and courage came to the rescue. The officers, true and prompt, sprang forward, axes in hand, knee-deep in water, amidst the drifting fragments, cut away the hanging wreck, opened ports, stopped leaks, setting all right. This done, all hands were turned to the pumps. Our chance was small — only a glimmer of hope remained. The ship leaked badly. After lightening her bow of fifty tons, a change of hands pumping constantly could only keep her clear. The storm was yet vehement, the motion of our ship terrible, oft rolling to her beam-ends, or plunging under the huge waves. The billows roared, the winds howled and whistled through the shattered rigging — a horrid dirge. Mysterious requiem!

Diversity of expression marked the company. Some kept silence, while deep thought and emotion struggled within. Looks oft spoke volumes, though not a word was uttered. Others indulged in soliloquies, regrets, wishes, resolutions, exclamations, or ejaculations. Some, who had played at games, trifled with religion, drank, and danced, and profaned the name of God, now fell prostrate, wept and howled, as if conscious of guilt and need of mercy. Some grew surly and stubborn, while others gave up to mad despair. In the cabin a majority seemed pious and consistent — they bent the knee in fervent prayer, as if trusting the chastening arm. Some, who had been sick and confined, nervous and timid, were raised up with new vigor and confidence. The Rev. Mr. Galpin and myself oft took sweet counsel, and joined in Christian alliance, while the elements seemed wrapped in fury and dark conspiracy, as if commissioned for our destruction.
“The storm, at two o’clock P. M. began to abate. As the wind lulled and sea calmed, hope and joy beamed on every countenance. Some were enthusiastic; others praised God and took courage. But our trials were not yet over. After two days the gale returned afresh, and with it the late terrific scene. It lasted but for a day, and the storm ceased. Here we had been tried for six days, in lat. 54 and lon. 28 or 30, lying in the trough of the sea, drifting on the mountain swells, or covered with the breaking surge, at the mercy of Providence. During this time we suffered untold severities. The cook then wounded, and steward sick; the fire kindled only to be upset, or quenched by seas; no cooking done, no table laid, or set for days, — we were constrained to regale ourselves on hard sea-bread, raw ham, or a bit of cheese, taken in the simplest style. Thus sick, weak, sleepy, hungry, tossed, and bruised, till little but life remained, we wedged ourselves into our berths, sat on the sofa or floor, braced and fastened as best we could. Three persons died. They soon were wrapped in weighted canvas, and buried in the ocean grave. The sailors sick or lame, officers fatigued, the ship wrecked, rigging rent, and tools overboard, left us in a sad condition. We spied a ship, and made signs of distress; but it was not the ‘Good Samaritan.’

Having survived the tempest, what to do next was the question. We were anxious to proceed; but disabled, short of water and provisions, with a protracted passage and three hundred and forty-six souls, we dared not. Starvation stared us in the face. To return was the only alternative. We did our best — made slight repairs, erected jury-masts and old sails. Providence smiled. A fresh breeze, filling our tattered canvas, wafted us directly to the Irish coast. Though deprived of much by the way, we rejoiced, after eight days’ sail, to find ourselves safely anchored in the Cove of Cork.

Here for eight weeks I enjoyed the society and hospitality of Father Mathew, and many other generous, warm-hearted Irish friends — at the table, temperance and religious meetings. Then I gave my farewell,

Our ship, repaired and refitted, at sixteen thousand dollars’ expense, left the port December 3, and sailed again for America. The weather was boisterous. Head winds, squalls, and gales revived the past scenes. One sailor was lost overboard, and another, by timely aid, just escaped a watery grave. Suffice it to say, that after experiencing a severe passage of thirty-five days, I hailed New York with invigorated health and a mind to work. Yours, &c.

EMERSON ANDREWS.
Wilmington, Del. March 4, 1847.”

HOME.

On my arrival I was soon engaged in my accustomed work as an evangelist, and have cheerfully and successfully pursued my special calling till the present year. “All hail to Jesus’ name!”

SECOND VISIT TO PARIS.

ADDENDA.

My second visit to Paris in 1858, deserves a brief notice here, which I give from notes taken at the time.

I find the city much improved, and also many other towns in France far advanced.

Napoleon III. possesses great power and skill at this time. The energies and wealth of Frenchmen, I observe, are also taxed to the utmost, but with great success. The public places and buildings are much improved under his reign. The Père la Chaise Cemetery, Tomb of Napoleon I. Notre Dame, Pantheon, Triumphal Arch, and the Madeleine, have deeply impressed my memory of Paris. Yea, verily, this is a city of cities, powerful in its influence on moral’s, politics, arts, fashions, and professions. In a moral and civil point of view, this metropolis of the world has, for some years past, improved but a little. Prices for living have enormously increased, till the laboring classes complain, as much as they dare do, under the thrice galling yoke. A volcano may smoke and bellow for a while, and then blaze out and belch forth destruction.

At present (in 1858), Louis Napoleon is popular with certain classes; is energetic in various improvements; is loading down the citizens with taxes; is exerting a most powerful influence at home and abroad. But the times are ominous. The smoldering elements are waiting their time. “Man may propose, but God will dispose.” “A wise man foresees the evil and hides himself, but fools rush on to death.”

I have a fine time at sight-seeing, and have refreshed my mind by associations of a former visit here, when I had my first look at the superior attractions of this “center of the civilized world.” O for the purifying and sanctifying power of the Cross to make this a model city!

The Crystal Palace — a splendid and spacious structure — is a great ornament, and is said to be exerting good and potent influences upon the patrons.

Parisians glory in their honor, style, order, living, amusements, philosophy, refined morality, and political power. But, “weighed in the balances,” they are found wanting. The gorgeous cathedrals, with magnificent, costly, vain decorations, and the short-lived amusements, seem to occupy their minds more than God and eternity. Religious forms, even, seem to have lost their former power upon the many and the few, except on some special occasions. The Catholic religion seems to have turned to infidelity, and is mostly but a mere form, without power upon its own devotees or abettors. But, notwithstanding all, spiritual religion, I trust, is reviving in Paris, and gaining a firmer footing in France. O Lord, revive thy work!

The various chapels, American, Scotch, English, Independent, and Methodist, are receiving increased attention and blessings; and a revival feeling, or a desire for a work of grace, like that in America, is the constant prayer of many Christian members. May the Lord hear and bless them in their efforts!

“But where are the Bible and religion?” Few are the experienced, evangelical churches and institutions. We see gayety, gorgeous pomp, priestly ceremonies, candles, pictures, images, kneeling devotees, priestly robes, crosses, beads, holy water, the wafer, and the crucifix. But what of the popish cathedrals, and paraphernalia, and inventions, without the gospel faith, order, practice, power? France needs pure religion. I have looked over the ground I once thought of occupying as a missionary, and have wept.

OASES.

The American chapel is a fine Gothic structure, with some one hundred and fifty attendants.

The pastor, in silk, read service in the morning, like the Episcopalians, but in the afternoon conducted service as a Presbyterian. Such forms and principles seemed hard to reconcile — strange mixture! I do not wonder the Presbyterian pastor resigns his “double charge,” to enjoy liberty of spirit and consistency of ministrations.

The Scotch church, at the Oratorio, is thinly attended. The Wesleyan Methodists’ chapel is well filled. Here we helped celebrate their “semi-centennial anniversary” in word, and spirit, and deed. Eight ministers were present, besides some laymen, who heartily participated in the exercises. It was a second and a double feast to me in Paris — of prayers, songs, speeches, shouts, and donations.

Religion is good and glorious anywhere. Rev. Mr. Seeley and myself, by request, made two or three speeches each. A committee was chosen to secure a place and fix the time for a “union prayer meeting.” This was successful — this was a blessed finale. I was convinced that I was right in occupying the home field. So we bade them farewell.

TOUR TO PALESTINE AND HOME.

I left Paris for Dijon, Lyons, Marseilles, and Rome, —here preaching, seeing sights, and the pope. Then “doing” Naples, Vesuvius, Pompeii, Malta, Alexandra, the Nile, Pyramids, Cairo, and preaching too, I left for Athens. Here I gave sermons and the “Lord’s Supper,” saw old ruins, new thrift, the king and queen. Next, I went, via Smyrna, “Patmos,” Beyroot, and Joppa, to the “Holy City.”In Jerusalem I “tarried” four weeks, preached, visited Mount Olivet, Bethlehem, the pools, sepulchres, gardens, and fields, bathing in Jordan and the Dead Sea, — beholding THE WONDERS OF THE WORLD!

Returning, I came, via Geneva, down the Rhine, up the Thames to London, preached, and attended the “May Anniversaries,” and steamed on to New York.

Blessed tour! All praise to God! Amen.

For more interesting particulars, see my “TRAVELS IN BIBLE LANDS,” AND “REVIVAL SECTIONS.”

E. A.