CHAPTER VI.

"But rise, and stand upon thy feet: for I have appeared unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a witness both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those things in the which I will appear unto thee."—Acts 26: 16.

With these words of a high mission Mr. Badger's journal opens, and how well does it accord with the idea of divine agency in placing moral lights in the world, and with what to him was a common thought, the unequalled greatness of the minister's station. More than once or twice have I heard him say to the young man who was publicly receiving the honors of ordination, or of a conferential reception, "You are called, my brother, to fulfil the duties of the highest station ever occupied by a human being. No station on earth is so great in its nature, and so responsible in its duties, as that of the Christian minister;" and more than once, in the quiet social circle, and when alone, heard him say: "I would not exchange the joys and trials and honors of the Christian ministry, for the throne of the ablest king on earth." And this was the settled, serious feeling of his mind. He recognized God in the call of the true minister, not leaving the sacred choice at the mercy of family policy, of individual ambition, or the efficiency of college endowment.

"In ages past," says Mr. Badger, "God has seen fit to raise up, qualify, and send forth ambassadors to thepeople. He has frequently sent angels with celestial messages to men. Men also have been employed in the same work, have received the word from Him and declared it to the people. Aaron, Moses, Jeremiah, Isaiah and others, are striking illustrations of the truth that God has appeared unto men to make them ministers and witnesses of those things they have seen, and of those which he shall reveal unto them. John said, 'We speak the things we do know, and testify the things we have seen.' The Gospel is not something learned by human teaching, as are the mathematics and divers natural sciences. St. Paul was nearer its fountain-head and true attainment when he said, 'I neither received it from man, neither was I taught it but by the revelation of Jesus Christ.' 'Wo is unto me if I preach not the Gospel.' Neither reputation nor worldly recompense prompted the apostolical preaching. 'We preach not ourselves, but the Lord Jesus Christ.' 'Freely thou hast received, freely give.' The Gospel is not an earthly product, but a divine institution for divine ends. The preaching of it, therefore, is the highest possible work, demanding the greatest deliberation and integrity. Its effects are either 'a savor of life unto life, or of death unto death.' How delightful also is this employment, as it brings life, light and comfort to all who yield to its elevating, enlightening and purifying power."

These passages, written in the early years of his ministerial life, at once recalled the second sermon[11]that the writer of this ever heard him preach, founded on the heroic text of St. Paul, "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ,"[12]in which he announced the Gospelas a divine science, as a refining power, as according with human nature and its wants; and, indeed, as "the only perfect science of human happiness known on earth." Such is the supremacy he unwaveringly gave to Christ, to his Gospel, and to its genuine ministry.

The feeling that drew the mind of Mr. Badger into the ministry, was an early one, having birth almost contemporaneously with the deep strivings of his mind already narrated in the previous chapter. It was the highest aspiration of his youth. Often, when at work, as early as the autumn of 1811, then nineteen years of age, his mind scarcely within his own control, he was frequently in a preaching frame, and often fancied that he was speaking to audiences of people on the attractions of Christ; so thoroughly was his mind engrossed in these meditations, that he often spoke several words before being aware of it, and not unfrequently did he find himself suffused with tears. "I had at this time," says Mr. B., "no idea that I should ever be a minister."

"As soon as I had myself partaken of the pardoning love of Christ, I felt as though all others should be sharers in eternal life. In prayer, my mind was drawn out for all men, for the chief of sinners. My mind was quickly weaned from earthly delights, and all my powers were devoted to spiritual interests. The few good ministers I knew I esteemed as the best and happiest of human beings; and, as the harvest seemed great, I often prayed that the Lord would send forth more laborers into the field. I thought if I were in such a minister's place I would go to the ends of the earth to sound the message of redeeming love. It was in the midst of such meditationsthat, in the first of the year 1812, all at once the idea broke into my mind that I must leave all and preach Christ. My soul shrunk away from the overpowering greatness of the thought, which I immediately banished from my mind; but with its banishment there came a gloomy despondency, as through the winter I continued at times to be exercised with the spirit of a station, which I supposed I never could fill."In the spring I went into the woods to make sugar, a business much followed in that country. Night and day for several weeks I was here confined, a scene that might once have been gloomy, but now was delightsome, as I enjoyed much of God's presence in my secret devotions. I kept my Bible with me, had some opportunity of reading, which I eagerly improved with the greatest satisfaction. Here my mind was again powerfully exercised in relation to preaching; these impressions always brought with them the greatest solemnity. At such times I sought the most retired places I could find, wishing that I might hide, as it were, 'in the cleft of the rock,' as the sacred vision passed before me. I said, 'Lord, who is sufficient for these things?' and with Jeremiah I was constrained to say, 'I cannot speak, for I am a child.' While these things like mountains were rolled upon my mind, I frequently spent the greater part of the whole night in prayer, in which I asked that I might be excused, and that these things might be taken from me. Hours in the lonely woods I passed in tears, and none but the angels witnessed the action and utterance of my grief. Once I opened my Bible wishing to know my duty, and the first words I beheld were, 'The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved;' language that impressed me with the great importance of the present time as an opportunity to lay up treasure in heaven; to call the attention of men totheir salvation, before the lamentation of the prophet should become their sad and unhopeful song. From the depth of my spirit I said, Oh! my soul, can I be excusable for my silence, when I behold the dark tide of sin on which myriads are rushing to eternal wo? Hearing the voice of Heaven perpetually resounding 'Why will ye die?' and beholding the crimson tide of the loving, dying Christ, that ever spoke of mercy, whilst angels appeared to my view as waiting and longing to rejoice over one repenting sinner, I said, Can I refrain from warning men of their danger, from inviting them to the Christ of their deliverance? For several days the above named scripture occupied my mind, and I was satisfied that God was drawing me into the ministry by these impressions, and soon I was willing to leave all, and suffer the loss of all things for Christ."Late in the spring I left my retirement, with a countenance wan and fallen, and a heart filled with 'wo is me if I preach not the Gospel.' I was silent, no company seemed agreeable, and to no one did I confide my feelings. In the summer of 1812, I searched the Scriptures, and often did my mind so extensively open to an understanding of what I read, that I was impressed to communicate what I felt and what I saw. On some particular passage my mind would rest for several days at a time, and ideas of which I had never before thought, would present themselves. Well do I remember the great power in which the words of the apostolical commission came to my mind: 'Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature;' words that seemed night and day to sound as a voice of thunder through my spirit. I regarded this as the divine voice; as Job says, 'God thundereth marvellously with his voice.' From all the scripture I read I gathered something that taught me the moral situationof mankind, God's willingness and ways for saving them, also my own duty to my race. Remarkable dreams at this time united with other evidences to confirm me in my duty, as often in the midnight slumber I dreamed of speaking to large assemblies in the name and spirit of the Lord. Frequently, under these exercises, I spoke so loud as to awaken the people in the house, and sometimes awoke in tears calling on sinners to repent and embrace the Saviour. When sleep departed from my eyes, as it frequently did, I would spend most of the night in prayer to God. Often could I say, with the weeping Hebrew prophet, 'Oh, that mine head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night.' But none, except those who have passed through similar trials, can understand the peculiar experience touched upon in these last paragraphs."

"In the spring I went into the woods to make sugar, a business much followed in that country. Night and day for several weeks I was here confined, a scene that might once have been gloomy, but now was delightsome, as I enjoyed much of God's presence in my secret devotions. I kept my Bible with me, had some opportunity of reading, which I eagerly improved with the greatest satisfaction. Here my mind was again powerfully exercised in relation to preaching; these impressions always brought with them the greatest solemnity. At such times I sought the most retired places I could find, wishing that I might hide, as it were, 'in the cleft of the rock,' as the sacred vision passed before me. I said, 'Lord, who is sufficient for these things?' and with Jeremiah I was constrained to say, 'I cannot speak, for I am a child.' While these things like mountains were rolled upon my mind, I frequently spent the greater part of the whole night in prayer, in which I asked that I might be excused, and that these things might be taken from me. Hours in the lonely woods I passed in tears, and none but the angels witnessed the action and utterance of my grief. Once I opened my Bible wishing to know my duty, and the first words I beheld were, 'The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved;' language that impressed me with the great importance of the present time as an opportunity to lay up treasure in heaven; to call the attention of men totheir salvation, before the lamentation of the prophet should become their sad and unhopeful song. From the depth of my spirit I said, Oh! my soul, can I be excusable for my silence, when I behold the dark tide of sin on which myriads are rushing to eternal wo? Hearing the voice of Heaven perpetually resounding 'Why will ye die?' and beholding the crimson tide of the loving, dying Christ, that ever spoke of mercy, whilst angels appeared to my view as waiting and longing to rejoice over one repenting sinner, I said, Can I refrain from warning men of their danger, from inviting them to the Christ of their deliverance? For several days the above named scripture occupied my mind, and I was satisfied that God was drawing me into the ministry by these impressions, and soon I was willing to leave all, and suffer the loss of all things for Christ.

"Late in the spring I left my retirement, with a countenance wan and fallen, and a heart filled with 'wo is me if I preach not the Gospel.' I was silent, no company seemed agreeable, and to no one did I confide my feelings. In the summer of 1812, I searched the Scriptures, and often did my mind so extensively open to an understanding of what I read, that I was impressed to communicate what I felt and what I saw. On some particular passage my mind would rest for several days at a time, and ideas of which I had never before thought, would present themselves. Well do I remember the great power in which the words of the apostolical commission came to my mind: 'Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature;' words that seemed night and day to sound as a voice of thunder through my spirit. I regarded this as the divine voice; as Job says, 'God thundereth marvellously with his voice.' From all the scripture I read I gathered something that taught me the moral situationof mankind, God's willingness and ways for saving them, also my own duty to my race. Remarkable dreams at this time united with other evidences to confirm me in my duty, as often in the midnight slumber I dreamed of speaking to large assemblies in the name and spirit of the Lord. Frequently, under these exercises, I spoke so loud as to awaken the people in the house, and sometimes awoke in tears calling on sinners to repent and embrace the Saviour. When sleep departed from my eyes, as it frequently did, I would spend most of the night in prayer to God. Often could I say, with the weeping Hebrew prophet, 'Oh, that mine head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night.' But none, except those who have passed through similar trials, can understand the peculiar experience touched upon in these last paragraphs."

The passage of men, called in any divine way, from worldly business into the work of reclaiming souls from sin, cannot be as smooth and easy as the passage one makes from a machine-shop to a counting-room. Fashion and custom may render it so, but these are far from being God's prime ministers. Is there no preparatory process by which the spirit of the prophet is stirred to its depth? Did not the fine nature of Jesus undergo temptations and trials in the wilderness for forty days before he entered upon his public mission? Did he not there feel the grandeur of his mission, when he foresaw the cost of all that the world and its ambition holds dear, as the result of his future procedure? He casts the worldly crown beneath his feet, and steadily fixes his eye on the immortal good of the world as his end. The coarser heart of Arabia's prophet also sought solitude as itshome ere it gave to the East its lasting oracles. The question of the calculating European and New Englander, as to which one of his family he shall select with whom to stock the sacred profession, never came from the land of inspiration and of divine missions. He that was too dull to be a rogue, or a successful practitioner in law, medicine or merchandise, the old maxim thought to promise best for the pulpit. No such plottings had aught to do in the election of this young man. It was warm from his heart, was seasoned in prayers, baptized in tears, and cherished in sleepless night-watchings and lonely meditations. Preaching skilfully, learned as an art, may be had almost as cheaply as Parisian dancing; but the living word that "breaketh the rocks in pieces" never comes in it.

Mr. Badger attended meetings through the summer, heard, when they had no minister, one of John Wesley's sermons read, as dictated by the discipline; mingling with others his own voice of exhortation and prayer. The eyes of all were soon fixed upon him, and the brethren began to complain of his disobedience to the heavenly vision long before he had intimated to any one the state of his mind. Some assured him confidently that they had an evidence from God that it was his duty to preach, and that their meetings were impoverished by his unfaithful withholding. "This," says he, "I could not deny." Though encouraged by the kindred sympathy of Mr. Gilson, who narrated to him his own trials before entering the ministry, though finding a response to his own conviction of duty in the hearts of all the spiritually minded about him, he did not immediately or hastily go forth in ministerial actionand armor. He waited the call of circumstance and occasion. His journal narrates a most beautiful visit he had at the house of Capt. Felix Ward, where the conversation was wholly devoted to religion; where scripture inquiry, prayer and holy song united to enlighten their minds, and to lay the basis of a valuable lasting friendship; and though strangers to each other, the family spoke of him afterwards as one whom they then believed would be a chosen vessel to bear the honor of God before the Gentiles. "I thought," says Mr. B., "I scarcely ever saw a house so full of the glory of God."

But particular occasion calls. In June or July, 1812, persecution arose in Ascott, which drove from the province two successful ministers, Messrs. Bates and Granger, because they would not swear allegiance to King George, which they boldly affirmed that they would never do. Thanking God that they were counted worthy to suffer for Christ, they meekly submitted to the persecution that seized them as prisoners in the midst of a happy meeting, and that drove them, after a lengthy arbitration, back into their own country, the State of Vermont.

"When I heard of this circumstance," says Mr. B., "my heart, filled with love for the dear converts and brethren who were bereaved of their pastors by the counsel of the ungodly, caused me to feel my responsibility anew; as I was a citizen of the country, knew the manners and customs of the people, and could easily take a position from which the same persecuting powers could not driveme. My heart, like David's, began to burn with a holy resolve to go forth into the field, and take the place of my injured brothers."

Though a stranger in the town of Ascott, where these events occurred, (a town about twelve miles from Compton,) he started on Saturday, near Sept. 1st, to attend with them a general meeting of which he had previously heard, and as he was riding through a space of woods, it suddenly struck him that Mr. Moulton would be absent, and that he should be obliged to speak; and the hundreds who remember the simplicity and naturalness of the texts from which he almost invariably preached in after life, will see something characteristic in the passage, Heb. 13: 1, that came at once to his mind, "Let brotherly love continue." Hesitating for a time whether he would proceed or return, as he was satisfied that he should meet this great duty if he proceeded, he went forward, found a large audience assembled and no minister present. As he entered, all eyes were attracted to him, and though many present regarded him as one whom the Holy Spirit had called to preach, he remained through the meeting in silence, except at the close he owned his disobedience, and received from several present warnings to be faithful hereafter. In personal figure Mr. B. was a noble and commanding man, one that could not pass among strangers without drawing to himself a marked attention.

Saturday evening he was invited to pass at Mr. Bullard's, where they spent part of the evening in singing, and hours, he says, upon their knees in prayer,—an evening by him never forgotten, as theHoly Spirit consciously filled their hearts with joy. "I thought then," says our youth, "I never saw so happy a family. Oh, what a glorious age will it be when the principles of pure religion shall pervade the world!" On Sunday they repaired to the place of worship, where "Mr. M. most beautifully described from James 1: 25, the perfect law of liberty. Many were in spirit refreshed, and indeed we sat together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus." As the Lord's Supper was not then administered, another appointment was made, and from the happy influences of this meeting with saints, Mr. B. returned home "in the power of the Spirit," firmly resolved to do all that duty might ever require. He again returned to Ascott to attend the appointment made for the communion, where Mr. M. gave an able discourse on having "a sound mind," and where, for the first time in his life, he partook of the symbols of Jesus' truth and dying love. He says:

"I trembled at the thought of attending on so sacred an ordinance, and with so holy a band of brethren; but as I could not feel justified in the neglect of the privilege, I came forward in the worthiness of my Lord, and I believe with his fear before my eyes. A deep solemnity rested on the whole assembly, and our souls, at the close, were seemingly on flame for the realms above. I was never happier in my life at the close of a meeting."Mr. M., having appointments over St. Francis River, wished me to take a journey with him. I complied. We crossed the river, visited several families, had one meeting; then passing up the river to Westbury (eight miles), through a woody region mostly, we arrived in the afternoon muchfatigued, as we had to encounter the buffetings of a violent storm. On our way, I had fallen back and rode several miles alone in the most serious meditations. I clearly saw the hardships of a missionary life, and felt that I must enter the field. We found a loving company of brethren, who received us kindly, and who appeared to be steadfast in faith. We held several good meetings in the place. Some were baptized. I also made the acquaintance of Mr. Zenas Adams, a young minister who had just begun to preach. This journey increased my confidence, as Mr. Moulton was a discerning man, and qualified both from knowledge and sympathy to assist young ministers. The conversations with Mr. Adams were also advantageous. He was but a few months my elder."I had now arrived at a crisis in which I must earnestly dispose of every practical objection. I had said, 'I am a child—I cannot speak.' I was but twenty years of age; I thought my friends might be unwilling. Soon, however, my father gave me my freedom; and I felt that there was much meaning yet in the good scripture which saith, 'It shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak.' I plead a comparative illiteracy, as the minister is ordained to teach, and ought to command the various resources of knowledge. This objection also fled before that potent scripture, James 1: 5, 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.' I was satisfied of this, that if God had called me to the work, with health, youth, and industry on my part, He would give me every necessary qualification. As swimming is learned by swimming, and agriculture is acquired by its active pursuit, it struck me that fidelity in the new work would secure the only effectual skill in conducting it. I thought of a kind father's house, of my loving parentswho had watched over my childhood, of the four brothers and four sisters with whom I had lived in the greatest friendship; and I did not omit to think of the needful renunciation of worldly prospects, and of the censures I should get from some, and the various treatment I had reason to expect from the world if I went out as a faithful, uncompromising ambassador of Christ. To take the parting hand with my dear relatives, and to live in the world as astrangerandforeigner, called up many painful emotions in my breast as I glanced into the uncertain future. Still no tide of emotion could carry me back in my purposes, and with much feeling I felt to say:"'Farewell, oh my parents, the joy of my childhood,My brothers and sisters, I bid you adieu!To wander creation, its fields and its wildwood,And call upon mortals their God to pursue:When driven by rain-drops, and night shades prevailing,And keen piercing north-winds my thin robes assailing,And stars of the twilight in lustre regaling,I'll seek some repose in a cottage unknown.'"Through all my discouragements and melancholy hours, interspersed throughout nearly a year's continuance, there were times when the sweet peace of God grew conscious in my heart, and always did this passage bring with it a cheering light, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world!" I felt that it was mine, that it was for me, and for all true ministers through time, as well as for the worthier ones who carried the Master's truth through suffering and trial over the earth. Feeling now that the time had come when I must venture forth, and finding that nothing among the armory of Saul would suit my form or answer my purpose, I concluded that no other way remained for me but to rely on 'the mighty arm of the God of Jacob,' under whose name I wouldfight the battle of life. In the latter part of October, 1812, on a pleasant Sabbath morning, while the people were gathering from every direction for meeting, the following passage came with power to my mind, and as no minister was present that day, I knew I could offer no good excuse for a refusal to speak. Phil. 2: 5. 'Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.' On this text, on this very glorious theme, my public life began, and doubtless in a weak, broken, and trembling manner. I have often thought of my first text, and have endeavored to make it my motto for life, for it is on the idea here advanced that the vital merit of ministers and Christians must forever depend. How important that the Gospel minister should have the mind of Christ! How can he otherwise preach Him to the world? How may he penetrate the centre of other souls and hold up the living evidence of Christianity without it? How important that all Christians have His spirit and temper! For it is this that directs, this that supports, this that adorns the child of God.""But when the echo of the first effort came back from the community, 'Joseph Badger has become a preacher,' a sentence then in everybody's mouth, I was greatly mortified, particularly when the invitations came to me before the week had ended, to go and preach in different parts of the town. I complied as far as practicable with these requests, and our meetings were thronged with people who came to hear the new minister, the young man—young, indeed, in a double sense,—in years and in experience. Perhaps never before did surrounding circumstances unite to render me more thoroughly conscious of my weakness, dependence, and inefficiency. I spent much time in secret prayer, and in pensive meditation, and the cry I once before had made in the anticipationnow arose with redoubled energy, 'Lord, who is sufficient for these things?' More than ever did I begin to fell the worth of souls by night and by day; and through the bodily fatigues to which my labors subjected me, the sense of responsibility and insufficiency that weighed upon me, my mind was somewhat shaded with melancholy, and often did my heart find relief in tears.""The next Thursday evening after my first sermon, I attended a Conference, where I met Mr. Gilson, a well-known minister. He appeared much rejoiced at what he called 'the good news,' and insisted that as there were many present, I should occupy the desk as the speaker, and give the introductory sermon. This, to me, was a great cross, particularly so as one of my brothers was present. After enduring for a time the conflict of feelings, which may be easily imagined, I went forward in prayer, then arose to speak from 1 John 5, 19th verse: 'And we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness.' In speaking, I had a good time, and both branches of the subject, which run over the ground occupied by saints and sinners, seemed to have a good effect; it inspired joy in the one, and awakened solemnity in the other. Mr. G. approbated my discourse, but I felt much mortified that I, a mere lad, was called out to set myfew loavesandsmall fishesbefore the great multitude."

"Mr. M., having appointments over St. Francis River, wished me to take a journey with him. I complied. We crossed the river, visited several families, had one meeting; then passing up the river to Westbury (eight miles), through a woody region mostly, we arrived in the afternoon muchfatigued, as we had to encounter the buffetings of a violent storm. On our way, I had fallen back and rode several miles alone in the most serious meditations. I clearly saw the hardships of a missionary life, and felt that I must enter the field. We found a loving company of brethren, who received us kindly, and who appeared to be steadfast in faith. We held several good meetings in the place. Some were baptized. I also made the acquaintance of Mr. Zenas Adams, a young minister who had just begun to preach. This journey increased my confidence, as Mr. Moulton was a discerning man, and qualified both from knowledge and sympathy to assist young ministers. The conversations with Mr. Adams were also advantageous. He was but a few months my elder.

"I had now arrived at a crisis in which I must earnestly dispose of every practical objection. I had said, 'I am a child—I cannot speak.' I was but twenty years of age; I thought my friends might be unwilling. Soon, however, my father gave me my freedom; and I felt that there was much meaning yet in the good scripture which saith, 'It shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak.' I plead a comparative illiteracy, as the minister is ordained to teach, and ought to command the various resources of knowledge. This objection also fled before that potent scripture, James 1: 5, 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.' I was satisfied of this, that if God had called me to the work, with health, youth, and industry on my part, He would give me every necessary qualification. As swimming is learned by swimming, and agriculture is acquired by its active pursuit, it struck me that fidelity in the new work would secure the only effectual skill in conducting it. I thought of a kind father's house, of my loving parentswho had watched over my childhood, of the four brothers and four sisters with whom I had lived in the greatest friendship; and I did not omit to think of the needful renunciation of worldly prospects, and of the censures I should get from some, and the various treatment I had reason to expect from the world if I went out as a faithful, uncompromising ambassador of Christ. To take the parting hand with my dear relatives, and to live in the world as astrangerandforeigner, called up many painful emotions in my breast as I glanced into the uncertain future. Still no tide of emotion could carry me back in my purposes, and with much feeling I felt to say:

"'Farewell, oh my parents, the joy of my childhood,My brothers and sisters, I bid you adieu!To wander creation, its fields and its wildwood,And call upon mortals their God to pursue:When driven by rain-drops, and night shades prevailing,And keen piercing north-winds my thin robes assailing,And stars of the twilight in lustre regaling,I'll seek some repose in a cottage unknown.'

"Through all my discouragements and melancholy hours, interspersed throughout nearly a year's continuance, there were times when the sweet peace of God grew conscious in my heart, and always did this passage bring with it a cheering light, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world!" I felt that it was mine, that it was for me, and for all true ministers through time, as well as for the worthier ones who carried the Master's truth through suffering and trial over the earth. Feeling now that the time had come when I must venture forth, and finding that nothing among the armory of Saul would suit my form or answer my purpose, I concluded that no other way remained for me but to rely on 'the mighty arm of the God of Jacob,' under whose name I wouldfight the battle of life. In the latter part of October, 1812, on a pleasant Sabbath morning, while the people were gathering from every direction for meeting, the following passage came with power to my mind, and as no minister was present that day, I knew I could offer no good excuse for a refusal to speak. Phil. 2: 5. 'Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.' On this text, on this very glorious theme, my public life began, and doubtless in a weak, broken, and trembling manner. I have often thought of my first text, and have endeavored to make it my motto for life, for it is on the idea here advanced that the vital merit of ministers and Christians must forever depend. How important that the Gospel minister should have the mind of Christ! How can he otherwise preach Him to the world? How may he penetrate the centre of other souls and hold up the living evidence of Christianity without it? How important that all Christians have His spirit and temper! For it is this that directs, this that supports, this that adorns the child of God."

"But when the echo of the first effort came back from the community, 'Joseph Badger has become a preacher,' a sentence then in everybody's mouth, I was greatly mortified, particularly when the invitations came to me before the week had ended, to go and preach in different parts of the town. I complied as far as practicable with these requests, and our meetings were thronged with people who came to hear the new minister, the young man—young, indeed, in a double sense,—in years and in experience. Perhaps never before did surrounding circumstances unite to render me more thoroughly conscious of my weakness, dependence, and inefficiency. I spent much time in secret prayer, and in pensive meditation, and the cry I once before had made in the anticipationnow arose with redoubled energy, 'Lord, who is sufficient for these things?' More than ever did I begin to fell the worth of souls by night and by day; and through the bodily fatigues to which my labors subjected me, the sense of responsibility and insufficiency that weighed upon me, my mind was somewhat shaded with melancholy, and often did my heart find relief in tears."

"The next Thursday evening after my first sermon, I attended a Conference, where I met Mr. Gilson, a well-known minister. He appeared much rejoiced at what he called 'the good news,' and insisted that as there were many present, I should occupy the desk as the speaker, and give the introductory sermon. This, to me, was a great cross, particularly so as one of my brothers was present. After enduring for a time the conflict of feelings, which may be easily imagined, I went forward in prayer, then arose to speak from 1 John 5, 19th verse: 'And we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness.' In speaking, I had a good time, and both branches of the subject, which run over the ground occupied by saints and sinners, seemed to have a good effect; it inspired joy in the one, and awakened solemnity in the other. Mr. G. approbated my discourse, but I felt much mortified that I, a mere lad, was called out to set myfew loavesandsmall fishesbefore the great multitude."

"From this time, I continued to improve my gift in public speaking, in this and other neighborhoods of the town. Feeling much friendship and care for the brethren in Ascott, I spent as much time as my business would allow among them, which was to my instruction and comfort, as there were in that place many faithful and experienced Christians. As I had some leisure, and found it duty to visit the neighboring towns, I thought it would be proper to have something to show, upon my introduction to strange communities, what my character and standing were at home. As I felt commissioned from God's throne, I saw no necessity of applying to men for license or liberty to preach, and therefore only sought a confirmation of my moral character. It would indeed be an absurd mission that did not include the liberty of fulfilling the duty imposed. Thus 'I did not go up to Jerusalem to those who were Apostles before me,' though I conferred much with 'flesh and blood.' I submitted this question to Mr. John Gilson, who as a minister was highly respected. He concurred with me in opinion, gave me a letter stating that my moral and Christian character was good, and that the religious community believed me to be called to preach the Gospel. This was singular, as I was not a Methodist, and was in no way pledged to their peculiar doctrines. We always had, however, a good understanding, and it was with tears that I parted from them. Since then I have often met them with joy, and they are stilldear in my memory.[13]For one year from the time I began to preach, this was all the letter I had, whilst with solemn joy I went through the region of Lower Canada to preach, experiencing the mingled cup of joy and trial common to a missionary life, which was my heart's choice."In the winter of 1812 I made it my home in Ascott, attended school some, but, so far as scholarship is concerned, to little profit, as my mind was subjected to impressions that constrained me to leave school and preach Christ. In the early part of the winter, I concluded to visit Shipton, on a preaching tour of about sixty miles, with Zenas Adams. He was a well-informed young man, who had commenced preaching a few months earlier than myself. We started on foot, and travelled along with mind and conversation seriously imbued with the spirit of our calling, to the appointments we had made, where we met large assemblies, who had convened to hear what the boys could say. Brother A. spoke mostly on this tour. We attended meetings in Brompton, Melbourne, Shipton, and other places, meeting kind receptions and gentle treatment from many good Christians, and short answers from some of our enemies. At Shipton we were joyfully received by Capt. Ephraim Magoon, in a manner never to be forgotten by me; also were we kindly greeted by many other good friends. We passed several days in this place, which laid the foundation for a long acquaintance, and for my subsequent labors in that community."

"In the winter of 1812 I made it my home in Ascott, attended school some, but, so far as scholarship is concerned, to little profit, as my mind was subjected to impressions that constrained me to leave school and preach Christ. In the early part of the winter, I concluded to visit Shipton, on a preaching tour of about sixty miles, with Zenas Adams. He was a well-informed young man, who had commenced preaching a few months earlier than myself. We started on foot, and travelled along with mind and conversation seriously imbued with the spirit of our calling, to the appointments we had made, where we met large assemblies, who had convened to hear what the boys could say. Brother A. spoke mostly on this tour. We attended meetings in Brompton, Melbourne, Shipton, and other places, meeting kind receptions and gentle treatment from many good Christians, and short answers from some of our enemies. At Shipton we were joyfully received by Capt. Ephraim Magoon, in a manner never to be forgotten by me; also were we kindly greeted by many other good friends. We passed several days in this place, which laid the foundation for a long acquaintance, and for my subsequent labors in that community."

The following paragraph is so characteristic of Mr. B., that no one can fail to see the man as present in the youth. It was in sudden emergency that the energy and creativeness of his genius were always manifest. Though naturally diffident, no one ever saw him in an emergency that proved greater than his own mind. His dignity, firmness, composure and aptnessat such times, were always striking and heroic. In a crisis, who ever saw him at a loss?

"On our return, at a meeting held at Mr. Hovey's, whilst Adams was preaching, a British officer came in. When the sermon was ended, I arose to speak by way of exhortation. It was a solemn, weeping time, and I observed the officer to shed tears. When the meeting was dismissed he made known to us his business, informing us that Esquire Cushing had sent him to arrest us, and to bring us before him for examination, as it was a time of war between two nations, and we were strangers. 'But as for myself,' he kindly observed, 'I am not concerned about you, and if you will agree to call on Esquire C. to-morrow, I will return home;' to which we agreed, exhorting him to repent. The next day we called at Esquire Cushing's tavern (for his were the double honors of landlord and magistrate) and ordered refreshment. At evening we were formally summoned into his presence. I walked forward and Adams fell in the rear, in order that I might act as the chief speaker. Mr. Cushing then exclaimed, with all the harsh authority a British tyrant could assume 'What's your business in this country?' I replied, 'To preach Christ's Gospel, sir.' 'By what authority?' 'By the authority of Heaven, sir.' At this the old man began to look surprised and beaten, thinking that I probably knew his character too well for him to succeed in this sort of treatment; and my friend Adams, constitutionally mild and retiring, began to take courage. He then observed, 'How came you in this country?' 'My father purchasing a large tract of land in the town of Compton, brought me into this country when nine years old, and,sir, I have as good a right here as you or any other man.' 'Have you taken the oath of allegiance?''Yes, sir.' 'Let me see your certificate,' added he. I presented it; it was read and returned. 'Are you a son of Major Badger, of Compton?' 'I am, sir.' 'Well, you'd better be at home than to be strolling about the country.' 'I thank you, sir, I shall attend to what employment I think best, and shall visit what part of the country I please.' Here I was dismissed, and I conclude he thought me a saucy fellow."Next poor Adams had to walk up. He came forward with a calm and delicate countenance, clothed in the sweet temper of the Lamb. The blood which had forsaken his beardless face, now returned, and adorned his cheeks with their accustomed bloom, as he stood before a 'beast of the deep,' who possessed much of the spirit that prevailed in his mother-country during the reign of Queen Mary, who caused her own beautiful cousin, Lady Jane Grey, to ascend the scaffold at the age of seventeen to suffer death for her religion. Brother Adams had taken the oath of allegiance, but as he could present no certificate he experienced some difficulty and suffered much abuse. But his soft answers served to turn away wrath. As I knew him I spoke in his favor, and after a short time we were dismissed. The next morning, after paying an extravagant price for poor, and to us disagreeable entertainment, we departed, rejoicing that we in our youthful days were counted worthy to suffer for Jesus' sake."This journey was very beneficial to me. Here a friendship was formed between brother Adams and myself which has never since been destroyed. He was an excellent young man, and had not at that time joined the Methodist connection. After a most agreeable acquaintance for more than one year, it was heart-rending to part with him. I found that he was resolved to join the Society, and that he was very anxious that I should. Weconversed on the measure lengthily. I proposed to him that we would travel at large, and not be confined to sect or party, but preach a free salvation to all who would hear us. He said that his confidence was so small, that he thought it best to preach upon an established circuit, where he should be sure of a living and where he should have homes to receive him. I replied, that I could not fear to trust in God for a living; that the faithful minister would never starve; and that if I could not get further on my way, at any time, I would go home and resume my daily toil. I saw that he was set on going to Conference; he also saw that I had a permanent dislike to theBishop's power, and that I would not become subject to the Methodistlaws. We did not longer urge each other, but parted in love. I walked with him half a mile, when he started, and I felt the trial of our parting to be great. We kneeled in the woods with our arms around each other, and when we had prayed and bathed each other's bosoms in tears, we arose and parted with affectionate salutation, never expecting to meet again on earth. He went to unite with the American Methodists, and I, more from duty than inclination, remained among enemies in Lower Canada, to stem the torrent of opposition alone."In the month of January I left school, rode to Hatley and Stanstead, on the shore of Lake Mogogue, where I spent certain days, and attended several meetings. The greater part of the winter, when out of school, I spent at Ascott, Compton, and Westbury, where I had good times, though mingled with trials and temptations. The first day of January, 1813, was a very glorious time at a general meeting in Ascott. Mr. Gilson, and a colored man by the name of Dunbar, who was both a godly man and a faithful preacher, were our principal speakers. In the month of March I took a journey to Shipton alone, whereI enjoyed a glorious meeting, and made an engagement to return in the spring."During this month, my eldest brother came four miles to hear me preach. He requested me to make an appointment at his house, which was near my father's residence; and but few of our family had ever heard me speak. His house was one where I had attended many balls and had met assemblies for vain recreations. The audience to whom I spoke was composed of my parents, brothers, sisters, neighbors, and my fellow youth, who had been my old companions in sin—circumstances that rendered my cross very great. My father's presence made my embarrassment much greater, as I knew the critical cast of his mind, the extensive reading and education by which his intellect was enriched. I observed that my father selected a seat with his back towards me. Excessive as my cross was, I could not be reconciled to this. I arose and presented him my chair, and when he had again taken his seat, I read a hymn from the Methodist collection, which was sweetly sung by the young people, my brother serving as chorister. After prayer and the second singing, I announced my text, at which every countenance fell, a general surprise being visible all around, and the young people appeared as solemn as if the day of doom had dawned. I believe I have intimated heretofore that, as a town, the people were irreligious. My text was Matt. 23: 33. 'Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers! how can ye escape the damnation of hell?' My text was harsh, but my discourse was mild. I first noticed the natural qualities of serpents and vipers that constituted the analogy of the passage, and that furnished the reason of their being so called. Second, I described what I considered to be the damnation of hell. Third, I endeavored to show how we might escape this, and the necessity of improving a presentday of grace. I then addressed myself to the assembly in the following order: 1st, to my parents; 2d, to my brothers and sisters; 3d, to the young people; 4th, to the neighbors. This was indeed one of the most affecting scenes I ever had witnessed. When I came to address the young people in relation to our former sports in that room, and to express my regard for them, and to tell them of the new and better inheritance I had discovered, some wept aloud, and at the close several said 'Pray for me.' I name this circumstance, as it was the first time my parents ever heard me preach, and it being a time deeply impressed on my own memory. After this I rode four miles, and preached in the evening at Mr. Benjamin Sleeper's, in whose house a most beautiful child lay dead, and which on the following morning received its burial."

"Next poor Adams had to walk up. He came forward with a calm and delicate countenance, clothed in the sweet temper of the Lamb. The blood which had forsaken his beardless face, now returned, and adorned his cheeks with their accustomed bloom, as he stood before a 'beast of the deep,' who possessed much of the spirit that prevailed in his mother-country during the reign of Queen Mary, who caused her own beautiful cousin, Lady Jane Grey, to ascend the scaffold at the age of seventeen to suffer death for her religion. Brother Adams had taken the oath of allegiance, but as he could present no certificate he experienced some difficulty and suffered much abuse. But his soft answers served to turn away wrath. As I knew him I spoke in his favor, and after a short time we were dismissed. The next morning, after paying an extravagant price for poor, and to us disagreeable entertainment, we departed, rejoicing that we in our youthful days were counted worthy to suffer for Jesus' sake.

"This journey was very beneficial to me. Here a friendship was formed between brother Adams and myself which has never since been destroyed. He was an excellent young man, and had not at that time joined the Methodist connection. After a most agreeable acquaintance for more than one year, it was heart-rending to part with him. I found that he was resolved to join the Society, and that he was very anxious that I should. Weconversed on the measure lengthily. I proposed to him that we would travel at large, and not be confined to sect or party, but preach a free salvation to all who would hear us. He said that his confidence was so small, that he thought it best to preach upon an established circuit, where he should be sure of a living and where he should have homes to receive him. I replied, that I could not fear to trust in God for a living; that the faithful minister would never starve; and that if I could not get further on my way, at any time, I would go home and resume my daily toil. I saw that he was set on going to Conference; he also saw that I had a permanent dislike to theBishop's power, and that I would not become subject to the Methodistlaws. We did not longer urge each other, but parted in love. I walked with him half a mile, when he started, and I felt the trial of our parting to be great. We kneeled in the woods with our arms around each other, and when we had prayed and bathed each other's bosoms in tears, we arose and parted with affectionate salutation, never expecting to meet again on earth. He went to unite with the American Methodists, and I, more from duty than inclination, remained among enemies in Lower Canada, to stem the torrent of opposition alone.

"In the month of January I left school, rode to Hatley and Stanstead, on the shore of Lake Mogogue, where I spent certain days, and attended several meetings. The greater part of the winter, when out of school, I spent at Ascott, Compton, and Westbury, where I had good times, though mingled with trials and temptations. The first day of January, 1813, was a very glorious time at a general meeting in Ascott. Mr. Gilson, and a colored man by the name of Dunbar, who was both a godly man and a faithful preacher, were our principal speakers. In the month of March I took a journey to Shipton alone, whereI enjoyed a glorious meeting, and made an engagement to return in the spring.

"During this month, my eldest brother came four miles to hear me preach. He requested me to make an appointment at his house, which was near my father's residence; and but few of our family had ever heard me speak. His house was one where I had attended many balls and had met assemblies for vain recreations. The audience to whom I spoke was composed of my parents, brothers, sisters, neighbors, and my fellow youth, who had been my old companions in sin—circumstances that rendered my cross very great. My father's presence made my embarrassment much greater, as I knew the critical cast of his mind, the extensive reading and education by which his intellect was enriched. I observed that my father selected a seat with his back towards me. Excessive as my cross was, I could not be reconciled to this. I arose and presented him my chair, and when he had again taken his seat, I read a hymn from the Methodist collection, which was sweetly sung by the young people, my brother serving as chorister. After prayer and the second singing, I announced my text, at which every countenance fell, a general surprise being visible all around, and the young people appeared as solemn as if the day of doom had dawned. I believe I have intimated heretofore that, as a town, the people were irreligious. My text was Matt. 23: 33. 'Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers! how can ye escape the damnation of hell?' My text was harsh, but my discourse was mild. I first noticed the natural qualities of serpents and vipers that constituted the analogy of the passage, and that furnished the reason of their being so called. Second, I described what I considered to be the damnation of hell. Third, I endeavored to show how we might escape this, and the necessity of improving a presentday of grace. I then addressed myself to the assembly in the following order: 1st, to my parents; 2d, to my brothers and sisters; 3d, to the young people; 4th, to the neighbors. This was indeed one of the most affecting scenes I ever had witnessed. When I came to address the young people in relation to our former sports in that room, and to express my regard for them, and to tell them of the new and better inheritance I had discovered, some wept aloud, and at the close several said 'Pray for me.' I name this circumstance, as it was the first time my parents ever heard me preach, and it being a time deeply impressed on my own memory. After this I rode four miles, and preached in the evening at Mr. Benjamin Sleeper's, in whose house a most beautiful child lay dead, and which on the following morning received its burial."

I find, on another page of his journal, that the sermon here spoken of bears date March 23d, 1813.

"I now began to reflect on the situation of the people at Shipton, and felt it my duty to return to them, as in that and in several adjoining towns there was no minister. I accordingly made preparations and started, April 1st, 1813. On the way I spoke several times, to good assemblies; arrived on the 6th, and found from multitudes a joyful reception. A reformation immediately began among the youth, and the spirits of the aged pilgrims revived like the golden life of a second summer. This, to me, was an evidence I could not doubt, that it was under a heavenly guidance that I had come to Shipton. I made it my home at Capt. Magoon's, where I enjoyed, with the aged people, many very happy hours; they were indeed the excellent of the earth, and I hope their numerous kindnesses to me may receive a thousand-fold reward."In the month of June, I made my first visit to Ringsey, to which place I was invited by Col. Bean, one of my father's particular acquaintances, likewise one of the principal men in this community. Though invited on a personal visit at his house, which was about sixteen miles distant, I found, on my arrival, a multitude assembled, to whom I spoke, under the conscious aid of the higher power. Several dated their conviction from this meeting, and through all the town the reformation spread. After speaking to them a few more times, I returned to Shipton; and in a few weeks visited them again, where I found several happy converts and many whose heart-cry was for mercy. Thus the work spread until it was thought that upwards of one-half of the grown people had experienced religion; I say experienced religion, for religion is not a matter of theory but of life. Its home is not in the dry speculation of the brain, but in the field of experience. Religion in theory is like the pictures of trees and flowers; they may win the eye and the fancy; but these pictures do not blossom, nor grow, nor bear fruits. The juices of life flow in the roots and branches of everything that grows."Col. Bean, my good friend, whose house was always to me an agreeable home, and some of his children, found peace in Christ. He continued a shining light until his death, which was about one year after. The many pleasant days and nights enjoyed with him and his agreeable family afford pleasure in their recollection; and though these cheerful scenes are not to be recalled, I trust they may be resumed in a better state of being."The latter part of August I was invited to attend a meeting in the upper part of the town of Ringsey, a place whose inhabitants were said to be remarkably hardened and wicked. I thought a place like this should not be shunned by a minister whose commission it is to seek thelost. At the time appointed there was a general attendance. I had rode a long distance, and both myself and horse were very much fatigued. I had no attention whatever paid me as to refreshment, nor did their sense of civility or bowels of compassion disturb them with a single thought about the needs of the faithful animal that had done its part in helping them to a minister, and that stood very patiently by the side of the fence. I stood, a stranger, in the midst ofglaringspectators. I recollect that when walking through the assembly, I felt an emotion of tenderness and solicitude for them that nearly impelled me to tears. I spoke to them from Zech. 9: 12, and, if ever the Being who gave me my mission assisted me in fulfilling it, it was then. Though very feeble in health I spoke to them over one hour, and the power of God came down upon the assembly, and many wept aloud. At the close I gave opportunity to any who wished me to pray for them to indicate their mind by rising, when the greater part of the assembly arose. The cry was audible and general, 'What shall I do to be saved?' In my closing prayer I could scarcely be heard. Though late, I mounted my horse, and rode nine miles to Shipton, where, at the house of Mr. Heath, I was kindly treated. But I was so weary and exhausted that I retired without refreshment, and did not visit Ringsey again for several weeks, leaving them to work out their own salvation. I then proceeded up the St. Francis river about seventy miles, to the town of Dudswell, where I found a happy circle of Christians. When I again returned to Ringsey the scene was wonderfully changed. Old and young flocked into the streets to meet and welcome my return. I could not pass a house where I was not urged to go in. I occasionally spoke to them during my stay in that country. Truly in this place were the songs of the old and the young mingled together."In the month of August, we held at Shipton a general meeting. Mr. R. Smith preached a very interesting discourse on Saturday, from Gal. 3: 26: 'For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.' Sunday morning Mr. Avery Moulton spoke from Acts 3: 22: 'A prophet shall the Lord your God raise up.' Mr. J. Gilson next addressed the assembly from 2 Kings 5: 13. After him I endeavored to speak from Zech. 9: 17: 'For how great is his goodness, how great is his beauty!' Several happy converts were baptized at this meeting by Elder Moulton."From this we appointed a general meeting to be held at Ascott, on the 8th, 9th, and 10th of October. It being a time of war between two powerful nations, our situation was rendered very unpleasant in many respects. Our provincial officers were much opposed to our travelling from town to town, and our brethren in general refused to bear arms. This enraged the officers. They frequently sent spies to our meetings to see if we prayed for the king and if we preached against the government, as we afterward learned. One of the officers once accosted me in these words: 'Well, Mr. Badger, I understand you do not pray for the king!' 'You are mistaken, sir, I do pray for the king.' 'Buthowdo you pray for him?' 'I pray that he may become converted, and be a child of God.' 'Ah! but that won't do; you ought to pray for the success of his arms.' 'I do, sir, pray for his arms, that his swords may be beaten into ploughshares and his spears into pruning-hooks. This is the best prayer I can make in his behalf.' He did not seem to like my answer, but said no more to me."The October meeting coming off at this time, made no small stir among the people, and the wicked, as of old, 'took counsel together against the Lord, and against Hisanointed.' As they had been successful in driving two good preachers out of the country, they were now emboldened to make a strong attempt, first to frighten us out of the country, and should they fail in that, which they did, to disturb our meetings as their next best stroke of policy. They issued warrants for nine of us, myself and two other ministers, and six of the leading members of our churches. We were arrested on the first day of our meeting, which had opened under promising auspices, as enemies to the Government. I had an insight into their methods before any part of their plot was executed; for as I was on my way the morning of the 8th, and within eight or nine miles of the meeting, an officer with whom I was acquainted, hailed me from his house and observed if I would wait a few moments he would be my company. As we rode along I drew from him a development of the whole plot, and at that time I became his prisoner. The greatest fear I had was this, that the meeting would be essentially disturbed. The prisoners were to be delivered and have their trial at Mr. Stone's tavern, one mile from the place of the meeting,at the same timethat it was in progress. When I arrived at the place where the congregation was to convene, I called, found several preachers present, and some brethren to whom I related the whole of what was about to transpire. Some were filled with fear. I advised them to discover no alarm, but to go on composedly with their meeting, provided there should not be more than ten persons left, after the rulers should have sifted the audience in their legal network, and to pay no attention whatever to us who were absent, except to remember us kindly in their prayers; and away I went to stand in the presence of authority. Soon, however, I was favored with the company of brother Amos Bishop, a faithful minister of the Gospel. He came in rejoicing thathe was counted worthy to suffer for Jesus' sake. Our trial formally opened on Friday noon, but not much was done. At evening I obtained a room in which to hold meeting, thinking that inasmuch as the legal process was tardy, the ministers present could make no better use of their leisure time than in preaching Christ to all who would become our hearers. Seats were prepared, and the neighbors flocked in. I then walked into the somewhat spacious bar-room to invite the honorable court to attend, a body composed of three magistrates, viz.: Pennoyer, Nichols, and Hyat, who were at the timemerrily passing the glass. Making to them as courteous an address as I was capable, in which I stated the superlative worth of the religion of Christ in the soul, I gave them an invitation to be with us. They did not make much reply, but stood by the door, as we learned, where they could hear the communications of the meeting. Never did we enjoy a more glorious time, never did we realize the divine presence more joyfully than here under keepers. Many brethren came to see us, their eyes filled with tears, whilst our hearts overflowed with joy."Saturday morning I arose very early and obtained permission to visit my brethren at the general meeting on condition that I would return at nine o'clock. I enjoyed my visit there; but what most affected me was this. Just as the sun had begun to brighten the eastern sky, after I had started, I met my oldest sister and my brother's wife, who had heard of my bonds, and hastened with eyes and hearts full of sympathetic concern for my welfare. They had arrived at the place the night previous, and were at that early hour hastening to the lodgings of their poor brother Joseph in afflictions. When I saw them I could not refrain from tears. They brought me money and articles of clothing, which were acceptable to me at thattime. They tarried through the meeting and returned home."At ten o'clock the court sat, and the whole scene together was one at which the student of human nature might have sat with amusement, scorn, edification, and pity. False witnesses arose as in ancient days. I say false witnesses, because they proved so before the court. They stated that we had opposed our brethren in bearing arms, that we had spoken diminutively of the British king, topics on which the public speakers present had been silent. Finally, at the close we were bound over for our appearance at court, which sat at the Three Rivers, and only twenty-five minutes were granted us in which to procure bondsmen. This we utterly declined doing. I told them that I knew the character of the cause in which I was called to suffer; that for me theStone Jughad no terrors, and that if I must occupy its walls, I should trust that the same God who heard Paul's prayers and songs at midnight, would also be my friend. At this a captain was ordered to take charge of me. Bishop answered rather independently, and asked Esq. P. to be his bondsman, but at length informed them that he despised their power. At this we were companions. Many present who were at first our enemies, came to me in tears, and offered to be our bondsmen. A captain who had carefully observed all that had transpired, came and offered to pledge his farm for me. At this, sympathy became contagious, and the spectators, who had thus far been watchfully silent, began to damn the squires, two of whom were now observed to stagger, having taken too much whiskey to retain a respectable command of their persons. One of them took me aside, told me that he found no cause against me, that it was the others who had caused them to bind me over, that he had always beenmyfriend, and would attend meeting the next day. Thepoor fellow fell from his horse on the way home, and broke his shoulder, which for weeks prevented him from leaving his house. Esq. P. the following day was found in the road drunk; and thus ended the suit. These events were not ineffectual. Our keepers, on seeing the agitation of the people, and the increase of our friends, on Monday morning, by the advice of Captain Ward, dismissed us, and told us to go about our business. This was a day of glad news to the brethren, who in trembling fear and faith, had borne us in their prayers to the Invisible King; and now having a little leisure, I improved it in visiting my friends at Compton. I had not seen my father's house for months. I spent some time with them very agreeably—relived past scenes in conversation—bade them an affectionate farewell and again went to Shipton."In the latter part of the year 1813, when on my return from Shipton, my father sent me word that unless I could tarry several days, he wished me to send an appointment and preach at his house. This to me was welcome tidings, as I had long been waiting with hopeful anxiety for this opportunity to open. I sent an appointment, which soon spread over the town. No travelling minister had at this time ever preached at my father's house, and a large multitude assembled, probably under the impression that there was something new in the circumstance. Oh, how solemn, how memorable the scene! I had long been absent from home among strangers, had passed through a trying experience in which friendship and hatred had largely commingled, and now, at the invitation of a kind father, I stood amidst my relatives, brethren and old acquaintances, to speak freely on whatever I felt to be dear to the hope and salvation of man. I spoke from Mark 5: 19. 'Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion onthee.' After the assembly had dispersed, my father and myself spent a great part of the night in conversation on the things of the kingdom, in which he rather favored the doctrine of Universalism. I had an agreeable visit of a few days, and went rejoicing on my way. I name these circumstances as they belong to the time I first preached at my father's house."At Shipton and vicinity, we had through the fall and first part of the winter, golden seasons, and many were added to the church of God. Party rage seemed to die away, and persecution greatly subsided. I now began to feel a dismission, so far as my labors and responsibilities were related to this region of country; and in casting my eye over the world as my lawful field, I longed to visit other lands, and carry to distant parts the unsectarian message of Repentance, Faith, and Love. During the winter I made several visits at Stanstead, a town lying on the eastern shore of Lake Memphremagog, where I saw a few persons converted, and where, with the saints of the Most High, I took sweet counsel. Also had many useful meetings in my father's vicinity."In the spring of 1814 I found my health exceedingly poor. Many thought I was inclining to the consumption. As the roads were exceedingly bad in the spring season throughout the province, I resolved to make but one general visit in each particular place where I had preached, unless particular impression should otherwise direct me, and then journey to the land of my nativity, to the New England sea-coast, around which my feelings of friendship and reverence warmly clustered, almost taking in the scenery of New England as a vital part of my filial feelings. Accordingly, as soon as the going became settled, I started on my farewell visits through the North country. Hundreds flocked together in the several towns where myappointments had been sent, to hear my farewell discourses; and unegotistically do I record the simple fact that my audiences wept as I told them my work with them was done, and that in other lands I must go and publish the same salvation in which they rejoiced. Many said, from the poor health I was in, they were satisfied they should never see me again. This was indeed a solemn time to me. I made my intended visit, and left Shipton on the 5th of June. Many of the aged saints and the warm-hearted young people came together at an early hour in the morning to bid me adieu. When ready to leave, I sung a few verses of a missionary hymn, which thus commences:"'Farewell, my brethren in the Lord!The Gospel sounds the Jubilee;My stammering tongue shall sound aloud,From land to land, from sea to sea.'Some united in the song, others were prevented by the fulness of their emotion. At the close, we kneeled together in prayer; and it was with a heavy heart that I offered to them my parting hand. Never can I forget the kindness and friendship of this people. They contributed largely to my necessities, welcomed me to their homes, and upheld, with their prayers, my feeble hands. Returning to spend a few days at my father's house, I found on parting, the strength of the social and filial ties that bind the heart of man to its home. When, after prayer, I gave my hand to my father, he could only utter 'God bless you,' such were his emotions, and a wordless silence, accompanied by tears, was my mother's benediction. When I rode away, I felt myself dead to every earthly prospect, to every worldly enjoyment, and from the dearest friends on earth cut off. Yet there was a holy sunshine falling down upon my clouds, that gave to my sinking spirit its needfulconsolation. It is usually thought that the situation of a youth cut off from his friends is a trying one, especially so if called to the ministry. It is not only in parting with friends and in renouncing worldly prospects, that the spirit is tried; the life of a missionary, who is a man of God and faithful, is exposed to a thousand sufferings and dangers. Missionaries often go forth as the chosen organs of different denominations, whose denominational interests they plead, and from whom they receive a pledged support. I had aspired to be a missionary of another school, a missionarytomen and notfrommen, having only the Gospel of the world's salvation to uphold, looking on high for the mission, and to the just and careful operations of His providence for all necessary support. For one so conditioned to consider the awful and immense responsibility he assumes before God, to think of the account he must soon render of his stewardship, is enough to humble him in the dust. Yet when, on the other hand, the faithful minister has a view of the everlasting inheritance that appears to the eye of faith, from the future compensations of His love, he can say, with the great missionary of the Gentiles, 'I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.' Perhaps this contemplation is not capable of a statement more just than that which it finds in the olden words:"'What contradictions meetIn ministers' employ;It is a bitter sweet,A sorrow full of joy.No other post affords the placeFor equal honor and disgrace.'"

"In the month of June, I made my first visit to Ringsey, to which place I was invited by Col. Bean, one of my father's particular acquaintances, likewise one of the principal men in this community. Though invited on a personal visit at his house, which was about sixteen miles distant, I found, on my arrival, a multitude assembled, to whom I spoke, under the conscious aid of the higher power. Several dated their conviction from this meeting, and through all the town the reformation spread. After speaking to them a few more times, I returned to Shipton; and in a few weeks visited them again, where I found several happy converts and many whose heart-cry was for mercy. Thus the work spread until it was thought that upwards of one-half of the grown people had experienced religion; I say experienced religion, for religion is not a matter of theory but of life. Its home is not in the dry speculation of the brain, but in the field of experience. Religion in theory is like the pictures of trees and flowers; they may win the eye and the fancy; but these pictures do not blossom, nor grow, nor bear fruits. The juices of life flow in the roots and branches of everything that grows.

"Col. Bean, my good friend, whose house was always to me an agreeable home, and some of his children, found peace in Christ. He continued a shining light until his death, which was about one year after. The many pleasant days and nights enjoyed with him and his agreeable family afford pleasure in their recollection; and though these cheerful scenes are not to be recalled, I trust they may be resumed in a better state of being.

"The latter part of August I was invited to attend a meeting in the upper part of the town of Ringsey, a place whose inhabitants were said to be remarkably hardened and wicked. I thought a place like this should not be shunned by a minister whose commission it is to seek thelost. At the time appointed there was a general attendance. I had rode a long distance, and both myself and horse were very much fatigued. I had no attention whatever paid me as to refreshment, nor did their sense of civility or bowels of compassion disturb them with a single thought about the needs of the faithful animal that had done its part in helping them to a minister, and that stood very patiently by the side of the fence. I stood, a stranger, in the midst ofglaringspectators. I recollect that when walking through the assembly, I felt an emotion of tenderness and solicitude for them that nearly impelled me to tears. I spoke to them from Zech. 9: 12, and, if ever the Being who gave me my mission assisted me in fulfilling it, it was then. Though very feeble in health I spoke to them over one hour, and the power of God came down upon the assembly, and many wept aloud. At the close I gave opportunity to any who wished me to pray for them to indicate their mind by rising, when the greater part of the assembly arose. The cry was audible and general, 'What shall I do to be saved?' In my closing prayer I could scarcely be heard. Though late, I mounted my horse, and rode nine miles to Shipton, where, at the house of Mr. Heath, I was kindly treated. But I was so weary and exhausted that I retired without refreshment, and did not visit Ringsey again for several weeks, leaving them to work out their own salvation. I then proceeded up the St. Francis river about seventy miles, to the town of Dudswell, where I found a happy circle of Christians. When I again returned to Ringsey the scene was wonderfully changed. Old and young flocked into the streets to meet and welcome my return. I could not pass a house where I was not urged to go in. I occasionally spoke to them during my stay in that country. Truly in this place were the songs of the old and the young mingled together.

"In the month of August, we held at Shipton a general meeting. Mr. R. Smith preached a very interesting discourse on Saturday, from Gal. 3: 26: 'For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.' Sunday morning Mr. Avery Moulton spoke from Acts 3: 22: 'A prophet shall the Lord your God raise up.' Mr. J. Gilson next addressed the assembly from 2 Kings 5: 13. After him I endeavored to speak from Zech. 9: 17: 'For how great is his goodness, how great is his beauty!' Several happy converts were baptized at this meeting by Elder Moulton.

"From this we appointed a general meeting to be held at Ascott, on the 8th, 9th, and 10th of October. It being a time of war between two powerful nations, our situation was rendered very unpleasant in many respects. Our provincial officers were much opposed to our travelling from town to town, and our brethren in general refused to bear arms. This enraged the officers. They frequently sent spies to our meetings to see if we prayed for the king and if we preached against the government, as we afterward learned. One of the officers once accosted me in these words: 'Well, Mr. Badger, I understand you do not pray for the king!' 'You are mistaken, sir, I do pray for the king.' 'Buthowdo you pray for him?' 'I pray that he may become converted, and be a child of God.' 'Ah! but that won't do; you ought to pray for the success of his arms.' 'I do, sir, pray for his arms, that his swords may be beaten into ploughshares and his spears into pruning-hooks. This is the best prayer I can make in his behalf.' He did not seem to like my answer, but said no more to me.

"The October meeting coming off at this time, made no small stir among the people, and the wicked, as of old, 'took counsel together against the Lord, and against Hisanointed.' As they had been successful in driving two good preachers out of the country, they were now emboldened to make a strong attempt, first to frighten us out of the country, and should they fail in that, which they did, to disturb our meetings as their next best stroke of policy. They issued warrants for nine of us, myself and two other ministers, and six of the leading members of our churches. We were arrested on the first day of our meeting, which had opened under promising auspices, as enemies to the Government. I had an insight into their methods before any part of their plot was executed; for as I was on my way the morning of the 8th, and within eight or nine miles of the meeting, an officer with whom I was acquainted, hailed me from his house and observed if I would wait a few moments he would be my company. As we rode along I drew from him a development of the whole plot, and at that time I became his prisoner. The greatest fear I had was this, that the meeting would be essentially disturbed. The prisoners were to be delivered and have their trial at Mr. Stone's tavern, one mile from the place of the meeting,at the same timethat it was in progress. When I arrived at the place where the congregation was to convene, I called, found several preachers present, and some brethren to whom I related the whole of what was about to transpire. Some were filled with fear. I advised them to discover no alarm, but to go on composedly with their meeting, provided there should not be more than ten persons left, after the rulers should have sifted the audience in their legal network, and to pay no attention whatever to us who were absent, except to remember us kindly in their prayers; and away I went to stand in the presence of authority. Soon, however, I was favored with the company of brother Amos Bishop, a faithful minister of the Gospel. He came in rejoicing thathe was counted worthy to suffer for Jesus' sake. Our trial formally opened on Friday noon, but not much was done. At evening I obtained a room in which to hold meeting, thinking that inasmuch as the legal process was tardy, the ministers present could make no better use of their leisure time than in preaching Christ to all who would become our hearers. Seats were prepared, and the neighbors flocked in. I then walked into the somewhat spacious bar-room to invite the honorable court to attend, a body composed of three magistrates, viz.: Pennoyer, Nichols, and Hyat, who were at the timemerrily passing the glass. Making to them as courteous an address as I was capable, in which I stated the superlative worth of the religion of Christ in the soul, I gave them an invitation to be with us. They did not make much reply, but stood by the door, as we learned, where they could hear the communications of the meeting. Never did we enjoy a more glorious time, never did we realize the divine presence more joyfully than here under keepers. Many brethren came to see us, their eyes filled with tears, whilst our hearts overflowed with joy.

"Saturday morning I arose very early and obtained permission to visit my brethren at the general meeting on condition that I would return at nine o'clock. I enjoyed my visit there; but what most affected me was this. Just as the sun had begun to brighten the eastern sky, after I had started, I met my oldest sister and my brother's wife, who had heard of my bonds, and hastened with eyes and hearts full of sympathetic concern for my welfare. They had arrived at the place the night previous, and were at that early hour hastening to the lodgings of their poor brother Joseph in afflictions. When I saw them I could not refrain from tears. They brought me money and articles of clothing, which were acceptable to me at thattime. They tarried through the meeting and returned home.

"At ten o'clock the court sat, and the whole scene together was one at which the student of human nature might have sat with amusement, scorn, edification, and pity. False witnesses arose as in ancient days. I say false witnesses, because they proved so before the court. They stated that we had opposed our brethren in bearing arms, that we had spoken diminutively of the British king, topics on which the public speakers present had been silent. Finally, at the close we were bound over for our appearance at court, which sat at the Three Rivers, and only twenty-five minutes were granted us in which to procure bondsmen. This we utterly declined doing. I told them that I knew the character of the cause in which I was called to suffer; that for me theStone Jughad no terrors, and that if I must occupy its walls, I should trust that the same God who heard Paul's prayers and songs at midnight, would also be my friend. At this a captain was ordered to take charge of me. Bishop answered rather independently, and asked Esq. P. to be his bondsman, but at length informed them that he despised their power. At this we were companions. Many present who were at first our enemies, came to me in tears, and offered to be our bondsmen. A captain who had carefully observed all that had transpired, came and offered to pledge his farm for me. At this, sympathy became contagious, and the spectators, who had thus far been watchfully silent, began to damn the squires, two of whom were now observed to stagger, having taken too much whiskey to retain a respectable command of their persons. One of them took me aside, told me that he found no cause against me, that it was the others who had caused them to bind me over, that he had always beenmyfriend, and would attend meeting the next day. Thepoor fellow fell from his horse on the way home, and broke his shoulder, which for weeks prevented him from leaving his house. Esq. P. the following day was found in the road drunk; and thus ended the suit. These events were not ineffectual. Our keepers, on seeing the agitation of the people, and the increase of our friends, on Monday morning, by the advice of Captain Ward, dismissed us, and told us to go about our business. This was a day of glad news to the brethren, who in trembling fear and faith, had borne us in their prayers to the Invisible King; and now having a little leisure, I improved it in visiting my friends at Compton. I had not seen my father's house for months. I spent some time with them very agreeably—relived past scenes in conversation—bade them an affectionate farewell and again went to Shipton.

"In the latter part of the year 1813, when on my return from Shipton, my father sent me word that unless I could tarry several days, he wished me to send an appointment and preach at his house. This to me was welcome tidings, as I had long been waiting with hopeful anxiety for this opportunity to open. I sent an appointment, which soon spread over the town. No travelling minister had at this time ever preached at my father's house, and a large multitude assembled, probably under the impression that there was something new in the circumstance. Oh, how solemn, how memorable the scene! I had long been absent from home among strangers, had passed through a trying experience in which friendship and hatred had largely commingled, and now, at the invitation of a kind father, I stood amidst my relatives, brethren and old acquaintances, to speak freely on whatever I felt to be dear to the hope and salvation of man. I spoke from Mark 5: 19. 'Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion onthee.' After the assembly had dispersed, my father and myself spent a great part of the night in conversation on the things of the kingdom, in which he rather favored the doctrine of Universalism. I had an agreeable visit of a few days, and went rejoicing on my way. I name these circumstances as they belong to the time I first preached at my father's house.

"At Shipton and vicinity, we had through the fall and first part of the winter, golden seasons, and many were added to the church of God. Party rage seemed to die away, and persecution greatly subsided. I now began to feel a dismission, so far as my labors and responsibilities were related to this region of country; and in casting my eye over the world as my lawful field, I longed to visit other lands, and carry to distant parts the unsectarian message of Repentance, Faith, and Love. During the winter I made several visits at Stanstead, a town lying on the eastern shore of Lake Memphremagog, where I saw a few persons converted, and where, with the saints of the Most High, I took sweet counsel. Also had many useful meetings in my father's vicinity.

"In the spring of 1814 I found my health exceedingly poor. Many thought I was inclining to the consumption. As the roads were exceedingly bad in the spring season throughout the province, I resolved to make but one general visit in each particular place where I had preached, unless particular impression should otherwise direct me, and then journey to the land of my nativity, to the New England sea-coast, around which my feelings of friendship and reverence warmly clustered, almost taking in the scenery of New England as a vital part of my filial feelings. Accordingly, as soon as the going became settled, I started on my farewell visits through the North country. Hundreds flocked together in the several towns where myappointments had been sent, to hear my farewell discourses; and unegotistically do I record the simple fact that my audiences wept as I told them my work with them was done, and that in other lands I must go and publish the same salvation in which they rejoiced. Many said, from the poor health I was in, they were satisfied they should never see me again. This was indeed a solemn time to me. I made my intended visit, and left Shipton on the 5th of June. Many of the aged saints and the warm-hearted young people came together at an early hour in the morning to bid me adieu. When ready to leave, I sung a few verses of a missionary hymn, which thus commences:

"'Farewell, my brethren in the Lord!The Gospel sounds the Jubilee;My stammering tongue shall sound aloud,From land to land, from sea to sea.'

Some united in the song, others were prevented by the fulness of their emotion. At the close, we kneeled together in prayer; and it was with a heavy heart that I offered to them my parting hand. Never can I forget the kindness and friendship of this people. They contributed largely to my necessities, welcomed me to their homes, and upheld, with their prayers, my feeble hands. Returning to spend a few days at my father's house, I found on parting, the strength of the social and filial ties that bind the heart of man to its home. When, after prayer, I gave my hand to my father, he could only utter 'God bless you,' such were his emotions, and a wordless silence, accompanied by tears, was my mother's benediction. When I rode away, I felt myself dead to every earthly prospect, to every worldly enjoyment, and from the dearest friends on earth cut off. Yet there was a holy sunshine falling down upon my clouds, that gave to my sinking spirit its needfulconsolation. It is usually thought that the situation of a youth cut off from his friends is a trying one, especially so if called to the ministry. It is not only in parting with friends and in renouncing worldly prospects, that the spirit is tried; the life of a missionary, who is a man of God and faithful, is exposed to a thousand sufferings and dangers. Missionaries often go forth as the chosen organs of different denominations, whose denominational interests they plead, and from whom they receive a pledged support. I had aspired to be a missionary of another school, a missionarytomen and notfrommen, having only the Gospel of the world's salvation to uphold, looking on high for the mission, and to the just and careful operations of His providence for all necessary support. For one so conditioned to consider the awful and immense responsibility he assumes before God, to think of the account he must soon render of his stewardship, is enough to humble him in the dust. Yet when, on the other hand, the faithful minister has a view of the everlasting inheritance that appears to the eye of faith, from the future compensations of His love, he can say, with the great missionary of the Gentiles, 'I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.' Perhaps this contemplation is not capable of a statement more just than that which it finds in the olden words:

"'What contradictions meetIn ministers' employ;It is a bitter sweet,A sorrow full of joy.No other post affords the placeFor equal honor and disgrace.'"

With these lines the nobly expressed narrative of Mr. B., so far as it relates to his early ministeriallabors in the Province, closes. A few other documents lie before me, several letters from the hand of Mr. Z. Adams, his colleague for a time in the labors and trials of his early ministrations, several letters of commendation from churches with whom he had labored, and from influential ministers with whom he had associated. These letters from Mr. A., though wearing the sallow impress of time on their forms, are fresh with the ardor and devotedness of what never grows old, the earnest heart; and what is peculiar to all these letters from the churches is this, that, after the usual commendatory expressions relative to moral and Christian character, they invariably speak of thesuccessof his ministry among the people. There are also a few letters from him to his father and brothers, written during the period of his ministerial labors of 1813-14, that are unfeignedly rich in the spirit of self-sacrifice, firm faith in his mission, and a fine feeling of love and kindness to all his relatives, a quality flowing through all the correspondence I have seen, addressed to relatives. A long catalogue of names, dated Dec. 20, 1813, shows the number of persons in different towns who were converted under his ministry; and though the evidences at hand indicate for them a general stability of principle and aim,onename, from the first column, must appear to great disadvantage in a future chapter, for it would be equal to a hunting excursion in the forests of antiquity, to find in any country a more unreasonable persecutor, on a limited scale, than was Capt. Moor, in the month of September, 1815.

Joseph Badger was a man who could never enduredulness. Lifelessness and inactivity, in fine, all the brood of stupid demons, he had a magical power to disperse. They fled at his entrance. Hewouldhave life and interest, and no man could better create them, by awakening readily the resources of all around him. Thus far we only see the young man of twenty, but the same inherent traits of his whole life are conspicuous. He awakens community wherever he goes. He calls out opposition, creates strong friends and enemies, concentrates attention, brings himself into trying emergencies, which call out his various facility of tact and successful management, his firmness and self-composure. Having set his mind and heart on the persuasion of men to repent and to seek salvation, he carries a multitude along to this end. But what is most rich, is the deep evangelical element, in which all his powers are immersed; his constant, prayerful, weeping solicitude for souls. I know not where to go to find these holy elements in a more abundant, pure, and I will add, in a more natural state, than they appear in Mr. Badger's early life. His enthusiasm was not rash or fanatical. The fire of his heart blended with the light of his brain. His eye was always as calm as it was penetrating. It combined the glow and the calmness of the night-star. Almost at the risk of presenting too much of a good thing, I venture to quote a mere fraction of some of these letters, each line of which is so fully alive with the sincerity and earnest faith of the writer.

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