Methodism in Earnest

James Caughey

At five o’clock on the morning of the 17th of January 1841, I left Quebec for this city. Three sleighs, filled with our friends, accompanied me twelve miles out of the city, where we all took breakfast together. In February, 1835, when the Rev. Matthew Lang and I visited Quebec, for the first time, the brethren, hearing of our coming, in imitation of those at Rome, who met St. Paul at “the three taverns,” came out twelve miles to meet us, and escorted us into their noble and beautiful city. You will not, therefore, wonder that my heart is warmly attached to the Quebec people. I only spent twenty-one days with them on my first visit, but twelve weeks with them this time; preached nearly one hundred sermons, besides exhorting, times innumerable. I also gave them a sermon on Temperance; and, in the hall of the Parliament house, I delivered an address on the expediency of total abstinence from intoxicating liquors. The Governor General very politely granted us the hall for the occasion. Many at this time became members of the “Quebec Young Men’s Total Abstinence Society,” which is in a very flourishing condition; and thus it ever shall be with any Society, founded on right principles, if the members act consistently, and carry out those principles with vigour, to their legitimate results.

“Facts are stubborn things;” and many of the anti-temperance men found them so that night. I told them, first: A coroner’s jury has lately been held in your city upon the body of a female, who has been disinterred for the purpose of an inquest, under a suspicion of murder; but death by intoxication was the final verdict. The matter, however, did not rest here; an inquest has been held in another quarter, namely, in the conscience of a liquor seller, a professor of religion, and what was the verdict there? That the woman came to her untimely death by liquor which she habitually got at his shop. The man came to me a few mornings since and inquired what he must do.

Secondly: A few weeks since a company of men were working on a building in the Lower Town. A dram dealer, close by, regardless of the danger to which the men were exposed, supplied them with drink. Toward night one of them, about half intoxicated, stumbled, and fell from the roof, and was a corpse in a few moments, leaving a widow and seven small children.

Thirdly: Several authorized reports have been placed in my hands within a few hours. One of them states that you have six hundred places in your city where intoxicating liquors are sold. Another (your coroner’s report) informs us, that during four months of 1840, verdicts were given of thirty-nine deaths occasioned by intoxication.

Fourthly: An extract from the books of your jail, signed by the jailor, states, that from January to September nine months) there were committed fourteen hundred criminals; and that eleven hundred and forty-eight of them had been committed for crimes, which were clearly traceable to intemperance. It seems the other two hundred and fifty-two were put down upon the list of “unknown;” that is, the cause of their commitment could not be assigned to intoxication; but it was added, there could be little doubt, were their history as well known as the others, it would be found that their crimes originated from the same source.

The Lord enabled me to be very bold and faithful, as there were many of the liquor trade present. I cried, “He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear.” Behold the doings of your six hundred dram shops and taverns. They have sent more than eleven hundred persons to prison in nine months and have killed thirty-nine. I then made a supposition, that a few individuals, for the sake of making money, should open a number of places for amusement, of a very fascinating kind; and that such establishments, while they were the means of sending eleven hundred and forty-eight men and women to prison in nine months, killed thirty-nine in the half of that time, how long would an outraged community suffer such horrible places to be open? Would not the strong arm of the law close them forever? But what have I seen in your city papers lately? Oh, only this, that these wretched men are notified to attend upon a certain day to have their licenses renewed! I then related an amusing circumstance that happened in the legislature of Vermont, some time since, which showed that the minds of statesmen are beginning to awake to the horrible evils and inconsistencies of the license law. A bill had been brought into the house, and was taken up for the third reading. One section thereof enacted a penalty for drunkenness. A member arose, and moved a commitment of the bill for an amendment, by erasing the section against drunkards. He said, he objected to the punishing of drunkards by statute, and at the same time protecting the traffickers in ardent spirits by legislative enactments; that it seemed to him like holding out one arm of the law to present the cup, and the other to punish the acceptance of it. As much as to say, “Hold out the cup, and if it is accepted, it will, by a sure process, lead to drunkenness, and then punish the drunkards.” The Vermont Legislators saw the dilemma, and it was thrown back into the hands of the original mover for an amendment.

Small as the thing may appear, and simple as was that test of principle, yet it may be found hereafter, that the little that remained in that “bottle at home,” stood connected with loss of character, a ruined constitution, a drunkard’s grave, or his future wretchedness in hell. “Behold how great a matter, a little fire kindleth.”

The last night I preached in Quebec was an affecting time. It was with much difficulty I could get out of the chapel, and away from the young converts. “How strong the affection of a new-born soul!” After breakfast I commended the little party, to which I have already eluded, to God, and rode on to St. Ann’s, fifty miles. Here I was met by Mr. H., of Quebec, who carried me in his sleigh to his father’s house. A singular ride it was. Part of the way ran over, and along, tremendous snow-drifts, till we descended upon the Batascou River, and scudded along on its ice-bound surface twelve miles. Here night overtook us, and we got bewildered. After wandering up and down, looking for a path to the shore and uplands, we espied some persons in the distance, and by hallooing we attracted their attention. By their assistance we ascended the bank, and through a wild country

“Of hill and dale, heaped into one expanse
Of marbled snow, as far as eye can sweep,
With a blue crust of ice-unbounded glazed.”

We arrived at his father’s house about nine o’clock at night. The motion of the sleigh at night, with nothing before my eyes but ice and snow, brought on something like sea-sickness. I was extremely ill when I alighted. The Lord gave me a good night’s rest, and I awoke in the morning quite well and happy.

A messenger went out through the settlement announcing that a Methodist clergyman, from the United States, had arrived, and would preach within an hour. The poor people, who were hungry for the bread of life, were soon assembled, to whom I expounded the tenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. It was affecting to see with what eagerness they devoured every word. Within a few minutes of the conclusion of the discourse, an astonishing influence came down upon all present. Nothing was to be seen but weeping on every side. We fell upon our knees and poured out our souls to God. There was very little noise, but the sobbing and weeping were wonderful. I paced the floor on my knees, encouraging each trembling sinner to rely upon the atonement for the forgiveness of sins. Lord Jesus remember these sheep in the wilderness! We had hard parting; but farewells were interchanged, probably never to be repeated. We then rode on to Three Rivers, without any accident, other than a thorough summersault in a snow-drift. I threw out my left arm to break the fall, buried it for my pains deep in the snow, and we lay sprawling for a time in the shapeless drift. Our fine horse stood perfectly still till we got through our undulating motions; and after getting all “to rights,” we started forward in good spirits; though in continual danger of another capsize. A previous upset of this kind was more disastrous. As I was riding along in my sleigh, wrapped in Buffalo skins, I came opposite a respectable looking man, standing by a fence. He asked liberty to ride with me a short distance, which I readily granted, hoping I might have an opportunity of talking to him about his soul. No sooner was he seated than I found I had a drunken man for a companion. On challenging his jug, he said, “My wife sent me to the store for molasses, but I have got more falls since I left the store than the molasses are worth.” I could well believe him, poor fellow; but the fault was more in his head than in his treacherous feet.

I no sooner began to talk to him about his soul, and the Day of Judgment, than my mare undertook to show she could play a drunken trick without either rum or molasses. Away she went down the hill, tumbling head-foremost, till she lay stretched on the snow. In the meantime, the drunkard and myself had a comfortable summersault together; buffalo skins, portmanteaus, molasses and jug, whirled into the ditch along with us, the drunkard’s voice grumbling out as we performed our evolutions, “The day of judgment, indeed!” The beast lay very quietly till we got out of the ditch. The sleigh was broken, and we were some distance from any house, so I had to harness myself to it, and endeavoured to drag it along slowly; the drunkard doing his best behind, pushing forward or pulling back, in strict accordance with the known laws of gravitation; but he was perfectly sincere in his endeavours to help me forward. At last we arrived at a house on a hill, which turned out to be his own, and a very respectable place it was. I found he was a farmer, in good circumstances. His wife was sorely ashamed of him. I tinkered up my sleigh, and got ready for a start. He ran into the house for my whip, but on coming back, the alcohol drove him along with such velocity that he lost his balance, and came down with a terrible crash on the ground, which was frozen as hard as metal. “Ah!” said I, “the way of the transgressor is hard.” I gave him a few words of advice, which he seemed to feel, and departed. Who can tell but this event may be the means of his conversion to God?

We arrived at Three Rivers, where I preached from the second verse of the hundredth Psalm. After service, I was conducted to see a very aged minister of the Church of England, -a most venerable and patriarchal looking man. If I recollect aright, he is ninety years of age, but seems in full possession of all his faculties. He was sent out as a clergyman to New York, by one of the English bishops, when the United States were British Colonies. We had a very interesting conversation. “I spent,” said he, “an evening with Mr. Wesley, before I sailed for America. On taking my leave that night, he presented me with his Notes on the New Testament, in two volumes.” He showed me the books, which he had preserved with great care. When rising to depart, I asked his blessing. He arose, and with great dignity, placing his hands upon my head, with a faltering voice, prayed, “May the blessing of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, be with thee, henceforth, and for ever!”

An old Scotch divine has said, “It is one of the best sights to see an old disciple; to see silver hairs adorned with golden virtues.” How much more, to see an aged minister of the Lord Jesus; one fairly worn out in his Master’s cause!

Next morning I lost my passage in the stage, through the carelessness of the agent. After considerable trouble and loss of time, he was compelled to “rig up” a sleigh and send me off alone. I bade farewell to Mr. H., who seemed determined not to rest without “the knowledge of salvation, by the remission of sins.” We started, and the driver was resolved to overtake the stage; but common sense should have forbidden the thought. Sometimes we had three horses running Indian file, one before the other, and they went at a tremendous rate, -now along huge snow-drifts, then down on the ice of the St. Lawrence, and again on the high lands, guided only in our course by small evergreens stuck down in the snow at regular distances. I expected every moment a complete upset; but no, we were often very near it, but the expert Canadian always contrived to throw his body so far on the opposite side as to maintain the balance of power; and I breathed freely again, muttering, “Oh! We were nearly gone that time; now for another hairbreadth escape.”

At last I had so much confidence in the driver as to be perfectly easy; no matter how hazardous the enterprise in which he was involved, he always came off victorious. The Canadian cariole has two horns in front; and as the driver seldom sits, he is ready for any emergency. He is never involved in a dilemma between the two horns; he knows one must be right; that one is grasped in a moment, as if by instinct, and upon this he hangs with desperation. He eyes the danger from afar, and at the crisis, quick as lightning, he dexterously swings to windward, and, in spite of the most desperate circumstances, keeps the sleigh on its runners.

About eight o’clock in the evening, we arrived at Montreal, ninety miles from Three Rivers, and one hundred and eighty from Quebec. The dear brethren at Montreal, regretting some of the movements of last October, were now fully ready for a revival. The leaders’ meeting had given me a unanimous invitation to revisit their city, which I accepted before leaving Quebec; promising, however, to remain only twelve days, and then proceed to Kingston, Upper Canada.

They had already commenced a protracted meeting, in the large school-room, underneath the chapel, and were in a fine state of feeling. I advised them to light up their chapel every night, and convince the public, they were not ashamed of a protracted meeting, nor of a real revival of the work of God. They did so, and our congregations increased every night. Soon the arm of God was revealed in the awakening of sinners; but the converting power was strangely withheld. We humbled ourselves before God, by fasting and prayer; and, at the same time, by preaching and exhortation, we endeavoured to storm the devil’s camp. Our meetings grew better and better; at the close of each we could say, -

“The little cloud increaseth still,
The heavens are big with rain;
We haste to catch the teeming shower,
And all its moisture drain.”

When we were fully convicted of our own utter helplessness, unless God should help us, then the Holy Ghost descended in copious effusions; and in a short time we were surrounded with scores of precious souls newly “born of God.” Great unity prevails throughout the society; the preachers are exceedingly kind, and we labour together in great harmony.

Yesterday forenoon I was called upon, with a brother, to visit the house of mourning. When I entered, I was surprised to discern in the distressed widow, a mourning penitent whom I had seen come forward to be prayed for only a few nights before. She then told me that her husband was a wicked man, and had opposed her going among the Methodists, and that she dreaded his displeasure when she returned. It seems, however, the Lord took the matter into his own hands, as he was taken suddenly sick the night previous, and expired before morning.

You wish to know the names of the preachers who are stationed in this city. They are as follows: Rev. William Squire, Superintendent; Rev. John P. Hetherington, and Rev. Robert L. Lusher, editor of “the Wesleyan;” a paper calculated to do much good in Canada, and I do hope the Methodists will support it liberally.

I fear I shall not be able to visit Kingston, and it will be a great disappointment. The ice is already very dangerous, and the roads are in a wretched state between here and Kingston. My time, you are aware, is far spent. I must visit New York before I sail. Within a few weeks past, I have changed my intended route, and shall sail, if God permit, from Quebec to Halifax, NS, thence to Liverpool.

There were more than two hundred sinners converted in Quebec, and since my arrival, about one hundred and seventy in this city; but we are looking for greater things than these, as many are praying, -

“A rill, a stream, a torrent flows,
But send the mighty flood,
O shake the nations, sweep the earth,
Till all proclaim thee God.”

I have lately received a most affecting letter from Quebec, giving an account of a dreadful fire and the loss of four lives. As I know one of the sufferers, I feel the more deeply affected. One night, during the revival in Quebec, as I was walking up the aisle, one of the brethren said to me, with great earnestness, “Do you see that old gentleman with the bald head?”

“Well, Sir, he was once a member of our society, but has long since left us, and what is worse, he is a miserable backslider; go and speak to him.” His words came with power to my mind, and with some difficulty I got to him. He seemed very attentive to what was going on, but without any apparent concern about his soul. I was struck with his respectable and venerable appearance. After a few words were spoken to him, a remarkable influence came upon my soul. Words were given me such as I cannot repeat. For a time he remained firm; at last the word came as fire, and as a hammer to break the rock in pieces. He became greatly agitated. My inmost soul yearned over him. I felt such a burning love to his soul, that I could have taken him in my arms, and have carried him to the altar. But he would not move, although he trembled in every limb. I told him I could not leave: go to be prayed for he must. I urged, entreated, conjured.

Had some polite and fashionable Christians been there, I am sure they would have charged me with overstepping the bounds of propriety, in attempting to drive the man to be saved. Ah! There is much in that advice of Jude: “And of some have compassion, making a difference: And others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire.” At last God helped me to prevail. With a faltering step, and almost overpowering emotion, he walked to the altar. It was full of penitents, but he fell down near it, and in about one hour God had mercy upon him, and healed all his backslidings. At the close of the meeting, there were great rejoicings over him, and many others; among whom was one of his own apprentices, who obtained salvation the same evening.

A letter brought me the sad intelligence, that one night, about ten days after I had left Quebec, he, his wife, servant girl, and two apprentices, having retired to rest, towards morning a fire broke out in one of the lower apartments of the house; and, although an alarm was given, such was the fury of the flames, that before an attempt could be made to rescue the inmates, all had perished except the elder apprentice. “The fumes of their burning bodies made a part of the awful column of smoke which spread itself, like the pall of death, over our deeply-excited city.” The youth, who was saved, is a member of our church. His escape was truly miraculous. He was awakened out of a deep sleep by the smoke, and some indistinct cries of fire; he tried to awaken his companion, but the heat increasing, he rushed to the window, almost suffocated. Just then the fire blazed all around the room, and he sprang from the fourth story, and alighted on the frozen street; yet not a bone was broken, and he sustained but very little injury. He says, that a little before he leaped from the window, he heard the voices of the old couple in another part of the house. Alas! They must then have been surrounded with smoke and flame.

I was informed that on Christmas morning, very early, the old lady attended the Methodist chapel, in deep anxiety about her soul. She said afterwards, “I went to the chapel with the intention of going forward to be prayed for, but there was no invitation.” Oh! How necessary to be “in season, out of season,” in our efforts to save assembled sinners. She did not come again to the chapel while I remained in Quebec. Perhaps God, who had begun a good work in her soul, completed it before that dreadful night. Here I leave it; but, with a grateful heart, I adore that God who enabled me, on the night referred to, faithfully and perseveringly to attempt to save the soul of her husband from the fires of the second death. Had he left the chapel that night without decision, or converting grace, he might have been eternally lost. Now, I believe, he is among the redeemed in heaven. None of the millions, who know him there, will refuse to say, “Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?” The eternal salvation, even of these two souls, (for the young apprentice who lost his life, had been converted also during the revival,) is worth the labour and expense of my whole tour, although it should not result in the salvation of any others.

An awful event, which lately transpired in this city, has also made a deep impression upon my mind. I have just received the facts from one of our leaders. A young man who landed in this country from England, last summer, was spending part of Sabbath, the 14th inst., in a house in *** street, in company with a person who came out with him in the same ship. While there he took offence at something, and, in his passion, wished that God might strike him blind, and dumb, and dead, if he ever entered into that house again. He and another companion then proceeded to a dram shop, and had something to drink. Under the influence of liquor and the devil, he returned to the house, where only one hour before he had uttered the dreadful imprecation. On Tuesday, the 23d inst., while employed in front of a house in St. Paul’s street, a heavy body of snow came down from the roof, fell upon him, and knocked him down with such violence, that before they could get him from under it, he was dead. “Thus,” says the leader, “his impious wish was granted; he was struck blind and dumb, so that he could neither see nor call for assistance, and he was dead before he could be released.” The Psalmist might well say of him who ruleth in the heavens, “Verily, he is a God that judgeth in the earth.” St. Peter also tells us of a certain class of sinners, who “bring upon themselves swift destruction.”
About the time of my arrival here from Quebec, there was another death, in which I was deeply interested. The following is the history of the case: When I was here in 1837, there was a powerful revival. One Sabbath night I was led to take that text, Rev. xx. 11 -13. During the reading of the text a man began to tremble in a manner he could not well control. He attracted the attention of two or three praying men, and they kept their eyes upon him, hoping to have him forward for prayer; but as soon as the sermon was over, he made an effort to get out, and succeeded. He gathered strength in the fresh air, and ran for his life. These swift-footed servants of Christ started in pursuit of the wounded sinner. At length he reached his house, and darted in, not without having been observed by his pursuers. In a few moments they knocked at his door, and were admitted; but he had disappeared. They inquired of the wife for her husband. “He is in that room,” was her reply. “We must see him.” She conducted them into the room, where he had thrown himself upon a bed. When he saw them he burst into tears. They pressed the truth of Jehovah upon his consolence, at the same time urging him to arise and call upon God. He did so, and they wrestled in prayer till midnight, when he professed to have found salvation. Alas! He did not long walk in the way to heaven. His old besetment, intoxicating drink, got the better of him, and he fell from God.

When I was here last autumn he avoided the chapel with great precaution, but, before I returned, a fatal disease had seized upon him. His distress of mind and body was very great. Some hopes, I believe, were entertained of his salvation, before he breathed his last. The previous New Year’s Day was a “high day” with him and his wicked companions, but before it was over he laid the foundation of his speedy death.

We find a still further account of his labours during this tour in Lower Canada in a letter to a friend, written from St. John’s, with which we close the present chapter.

I did not think of writing to you again before l had sailed for Europe; but having a few moments to spare, I snatch them to address to you a few lines. I have abandoned the idea of visiting Kingston at this time. Having still a deep interest in the welfare of the little society in this place, I gathered, from my feelings, that the Lord might have some thing for me to do, either in strengthening the young converts of last autumn, or laying hold of some of the devil’s children, who were then wounded by the arrows of the gospel.

I found the little society standing fast, and doing well; but the wicked are afraid of me. They remember the arrows of the last battle, and are better prepared to avoid them. So true is that saying of an elegant writer, “If the sinner is not recalled by the invitations of the gospel, he will be rivetted by that gospel into more helpless condemnation.” I fear I made a mistake in leaving St. John’s so early; and have some suspicions that was the reason why my way was so hedged up in Montreal last autumn.
I preached eighty-six sermons in Montreal, one temperance sermon, and delivered five lectures on total-abstinence from all intoxicating drinks. More than two hundred sinners were converted to God, and one thousand persons united with the Montreal “Young Men’s Total Abstinence Society.” A deputation from the above society visited me before I left the city, with a request that I would give them a few months of my time, previous to my sailing for Europe, in order to visit a few of the towns of Upper Canada, for the purpose of promoting the cause of temperance. A liberal sum had been raised for the purpose, with an offer of more, if necessary, should I undertake the mission. Although I felt myself honoured by the flattering offer, I durst not accept it. I reflected, If my commission to visit Canada and Europe is from God, then I am not at liberty to be an agent of this kind; because, in no part of it, is a temperance agency (in the proper sense of the term) written. On the same principle, I rejected the proposition of some of my friends, to procure an agency for the promotion of the objects of the “American Bible Society.” True, this would lessen my personal expenses; but, at the same time, greatly entangle me in my revival designs.

But, you will ask, “How could you then consistently deliver so many temperance lectures in Quebec and Montreal ?” I answer, on the same principles that I could give an address at a Missionary or Bible Society meeting; when I could make such addresses subservient to the revival; when I could mingle with my remarks those eternal truths of the gospel which awaken and convert men; thus affording myself an opportunity of proclaiming the verities, and pressing the claims, of Christianity upon minds which otherwise I could not have reached; and the very next night preach the gospel to these awakened sinners, and thus lead them not only to be temperance men and philanthropists but real Christians, and all this without infringing upon the rights of any particular society, or without entanglements from claims connected with any special agency.

Under these circumstances I cheerfully embraced such opportunities, and thus enjoyed the double gratification of helping forward the interests of associations, good in themselves, while I carried forward, at the same time, conscientiously, the grand design intended by God in thrusting me out from my ordinary sphere of labour. I intend to spend only a few days here, and then return to Montreal; and from thence shall proceed into the United States.

Finding myself quite unsuccessful here, it was impressed upon my mind to preach restitution. This has created quite a stir. I plead for the rights of government, as for those of an individual; and insist that it is just as sinful to defraud the customs, as to cheat in trade. The smugglers are in great trouble. One was so powerfully wrought upon, that he was on the point of presenting his watch to a customhouse officer during the sermon. So he confessed afterwards, but congratulated himself that he had had strength of mind enough to conquer his superstitious weakness. I think the devil will have his difficulties in keeping some of them quiet.
In Montreal the effects were more evident and general. Numerous cases of restitution came to my knowledge, from the small sum of one dollar, ranging upwards to two hundred dollars. The history of some of the cases, though melancholy, was really amusing. The conscience of a barber flew in his face, accusing him of repeatedly charging two-pence more for a certain article than its real value; and keener than the razor’s edge was that conscience in its operations upon his soul.

Another had acted the rogue, a few years ago, in denying possession of a bank note to a certain amount, which he had picked up on the street, although challenged by the owner a few minutes after; now it was burning his soul like a coal of a fire.

Another was the case of a young man in a mercantile house, who had charge of the cashbook. In 1839, his employer one day made a wrong entry, by mistake, which was to the young man’s advantage. On balancing his cash account at night, a sum of money remained in his hands, for which he could not account, nor was he anxious to do so. Some time after, however, he discovered the error of his master, but said nothing, having expended the sum in a certain article. The doctrine of restitution fell upon his ears like peals of thunder; he became deeply concerned about his soul; but this stood between him and salvation like a gate of iron. At last these words came to his soul with awful power, “Will you sell your soul to hell for the sum of ----?” His conscience recoiled and staggered under the influence, and he cried out, “No, I will restore it!”

Another had defrauded a widow, and he sent the amount to Mr. Squire, that it might be restored. But I cannot go over all the cases. Excuse this very hastily written letter, and believe me, your most affectionate friend, and brother in Jesus Christ.

After closing these labours in Lower Canada, Mr. Caughey visited New York for the purpose of making a final settlement of his pecuniary affairs, preparatory to his European voyage. In reviewing his tour, he wrote to a friend, “The result has been the conversion of between FOUR AND FIVE HUNDRED sinners to God. I cannot help receiving this as a convincing proof that I have not mistaken the will of God.” Truly this was proof amounting to a demonstration. Nearly five hundred souls saved in a few months! Thousands of ministers would be inexpressibly happy could they have as many “seals” in a lifetime. An “impression” so fruitful as this can hardly be deemed fanciful.