CHAPTER 23 NATHAN EMERY

CHAPTER 23 NATHAN EMERY With all the efforts we are making to prevent it, how rapidly are the precious memories of our fathers passing away! Notwithstanding the numerous written memorials, much of what is known of the eventful times in which they lived and labored, dwells but in the recollections of a few revered survivors, and with them is fast perishing, unrecorded and irretrievable.

Nathan Emery was born in the town of Minot, Cumberland county, Maine, on the 5th of August 1780. He was blessed with a pious mother, and, through her godly admonitions and holy example, lasting religious impressions were made upon his young and tender heart. In the year 1794, the region of country where he lived was visited by a Methodist preacher, and his father’s house became a preaching-place, a bethel in the wilderness, where the man of God lifted up his voice in exhortation and prayer. How many will thank God in the day of eternity for that system of itinerancy which sent the feet of messengers of glad tidings over the mountains and through the vales, over the plains and along the rivers, to visit the destitute regions and offer the inhabitants the blessings of salvation! Under the ministrations of these Gospel heralds, young Emery became an early convert to Christ, and enrolled himself among the people of God. At the age of sixteen he was appointed leader of a class, and in this capacity he served the Church with all fidelity till he was called, in the providence of God, to a more extended field of labor and usefulness.

Early in the year 1799 he was licensed to preach the Gospel, and employed on a circuit by the presiding elder till the ensuing conference, when he was admitted on trial in the traveling connection, and stationed on Readfield circuit. Among the class of preachers admitted at the same time, we find the names of Joshua Soule and James Quinn, the latter of whom is gone to rest; but the former still lives and is the senior Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church South. His next field of labor was Needham. In the year 1801 he was appointed to Union circuit, in the Province of Maine district. In the following year he was stationed on the Norridgewock circuit; and in the year 1803, at the conference held in the city of Boston, he was ordained an elder and appointed to the Middletown circuit, where he remained two years, and formed an acquaintance with that estimable lady who afterward became his wife. The next year he was removed to the New London circuit. During this year he was married most happily to the woman of his choice, and never did wandering itinerant make a more judicious selection. Amiable, talented, and gentle as an angel of light, did this most estimable woman follow her husband from field to field of his labor; and united in work, as they were one in heart, did she, with gentle persuasion, assist her partner in leading souls to the fountain of a Redeemer’s blood. She shunned no cross, despised no shame, for the sake of Jesus; but side by side with her husband did she toil to cultivate Immanuel’s land. For a period of nearly forty years they journeyed on together over the rough and rugged path of itinerant life, strangers and pilgrims, seeking the city with foundations whose maker and builder is God. How many souls in the morn of eternity will bless God for the soft, persuasive eloquence of that mother in Israel, who, at the altar of mercy, taught them to look away to the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world! How many souls have been born into the kingdom while listening to her instructions, eternity alone can disclose. But a few years before the decease of father Emery, her sanctified spirit, released from earth, passed peacefully away to the land of the blest.

"But again we hope to meet her, When the day of life is fled, Then in heaven with joy to greet her, Where no farewell tears are shed." For a period of more than twenty years Nathan Emery labored with great acceptability and usefulness in the itinerant field, filling several of the more important stations in the New England conference. Excessive labors, however, broke down his constitution, and he became so much enfeebled that it was necessary for him to superannuate, which he did in the year 1821. Soon after he removed to Ohio, and purchased a small farm at Blendon. The next year, his health improving by the health-giving and invigorating exercise connected with a farmer’s life, and being unwilling to be considered as a burden on the conference, he asked for and obtained a location. He remained in this relation to the Church for a period of six years, during which time his Sabbaths were occupied, as far as possible, in preaching at different points. In the year 1828 he was employed by the presiding elder of Lancaster district, Rev. David Young, to travel the Columbus circuit as a supply, Samuel Hamilton being his colleague. At the expiration of this year, finding that he would be able to do effective service again in the itinerant ranks, he was readmitted as a member of the Ohio conference, and stationed at Zanesville. The appointment of father Emery, as he was familiarly called, to Zanesville, was at a time when a crisis had arrived in the history of the Church in that place which seemed for a season almost to threaten its destruction. That unhappy strife denominated the "Radical controversy" was then at its height. Many had left the Church under the impression that the government was an oligarchy, and that the membership were oppressed with a tyranny from bishops, and elders, and preachers which they were not able to bear, and ought not if they could; through the overzealous labors of the new party, by means of sermons, papers, and tracts, scattered broadcast over the land, in which it was asserted that the clergy had taken away all the rights of the laity, and that they were "lording it over God’s heritage." Among the number of those who left the Church in this excitement were several of the more prominent, wealthy, and influential members of the society; and when father Emery entered upon his labors, every thing pertaining to the Church wore a most gloomy aspect.

He went, however, in the spirit of his Master, and entered upon his work. It was not the work of recrimination, however, in which he engaged. To all the thrusts and taunts of his opponents, he made no reply, except to turn his bland and open face, wreathed with smiles, which indicated the forgiveness of his benevolent heart. He well knew that fire could fight fire; but in the conflict all for which they contended would be consumed; and, hence, he went straightforward, preaching the blessed Gospel, and visiting from house to house and from shop to shop, in the streets and alleys, speaking a kind word to all he met on the subject of their soul’s salvation. The people soon learned what manner of spirit he possessed, and were won by his kindness and concern for their souls to crowd to his ministry; and the little old frame church, which stood in the rear of the new brick, the foundations of which he laid, and over the elevation of the cap-stone of which he shouted, would literally be packed with anxious hearers.

There, in that old-fashioned pulpit, in hearing of the murmuring waters of the Muskingum, rolling over their rocky bed, where a McKendree, an Ellis, a Burke, a Young, a Morris, a Durbin, a Bascom, and a Christie have stood and proclaimed the messages of mercy and salvation, the old man eloquent, with his face bathed in tears or covered with smiles, rocking from side to side, proclaimed the Gospel of salvation and peace "in strains as soft as angels use," or in thunder-tones uttered the dread language of Sinai. It was not long till the hearts of many were touched, and again the altar was crowded and souls converted, and the old temple of Zion was made to resound with shouts of praise. God turned the captivity of the Church, and harps that had been hanging unstrung on the willows were struck again to loftiest notes of praise. The Lord rendered to Zion more than double for all that she had suffered, in granting a most glorious revival, which swept over the town. At that meeting strange things came to the ears of the inhabitants of Zanesville. It was rumored that two students from the Ohio University, one of whom was a son of the then Governor of Ohio, had arrived, and would preach in the Methodist Church. What was remarkable in that day was, that they were Methodist preachers. Who had heard, since the days of Wesley, of Methodist preachers coming out fresh from a college to preach the Gospel? But it was even so: brothers Trimble and Herr — for these were the young men — were found in that old-fashioned pulpit, and multitudes who had never darkened the threshold of the old church crowded to hear the students. God was with them, and many heard from their lips the first Methodist sermon. The revival spread with power, and hundreds were awakened and happily converted to God.

Good "old David" himself with his whitened locks and streaming eyes, as he would gaze upon the battle of the Lord from his seat in the altar, seemed to say, like old Simeon, "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." It was a great and glorious day for Methodism in Zanesville. From that revival went out almost a half a score of young men to different and distant parts of the country, to preach Christ and him crucified. But wonders did not stop here. It was rumored that the most eloquent divine that ever addressed a Zanesville audience had become a Methodist preacher, and was coming back from the east, whither he had gone on a visit, to identify himself with Methodism it a place where before he had wondered at the audacity of a Methodist preacher in daring to ride along the main street. He came, and listening, wondering thousands hung upon his lips, if possible, with greater interest than they had done before. Under these circumstances, Methodism in Zanesville gained an influence and standing which it has not lost to this day. There are now, in that enterprising city, two large churches, both of which are in a prosperous condition.

We must now resume our narrative. After father Emery had finished his two years on the station, he was sent to Cincinnati, in company with ourself, E. W. Sehon, and S. A. Latta, where he labored with his accustomed zeal and success. The next year he was continued in the station, with Thomas A. Morris, now Bishop, and William B. Christie. In 1833 he was sent to Marietta, with W. Young as his colleague, and the succeeding year to Chilicothe — in 1835 to Worthington, with W. Morrow. In the year 1836 he was, at the urgent solicitation of the Directors of the Ohio Penitentiary, appointed as chaplain to said institution. In this new field, all the sympathies of his benevolent nature were taxed to their utmost. He was untiring in imparting instruction, admonition, and comfort to those who, by violation of the laws of the land, had excluded themselves from society. His efforts to reform hardened criminals was not without its effect. Many an obdurate heart was made to feel the force of a kindness and sympathy to which for years they had been strangers, and many an eye, which had been as a sealed fountain, was made, like the smitten rock in the desert, to gush forth with penitential tears. All criminals incarcerated within the gloomy walls of a prison are not, as some would suppose, lost to hope and heaven. Many that we ourselves know have been truly converted, and have given evidence thereof in the fruits of righteousness, years after they have served out their time in the penitentiary. No man, with a cold, unsympathetic heart, should ever have any control in the instruction or government of a prison, as the discipline there is designed to be, under the regulation of our laws, of a reformatory character. In the year 1837 he was appointed to Delaware circuit, at the close of which, from old age and feebleness, he was obliged to desist from labor, and take a superannuated relation, in which he continued till the day of his death. On all his fields of labor in the Ohio conference, he was in toils more abundant, ever active and zealous in his Master’s service. No one ever knew father Emery either unemployed or triflingly employed. He was fully impressed with the idea that he had one great work to perform, and he was straitened till that work was accomplished. His whole study seemed to be to finish the work which had been assigned him, that in the end he might testify rejoicingly the grace of God. The period at last came which was to terminate his labors in the kingdom and patience of Jesus. For some time before his death he had been in feeble and declining health, yet he still continued his labors both on the farm and in the pulpit up to the very close of life. On Sabbath, May 20, 1849, he preached, and gave out an appointment for the succeeding Sabbath; but it was his last sermon. The following Tuesday he was suddenly and violently attacked with inflammation of the bowels, from which he suffered most intensely; but he was enabled to ’’endure as seeing Him who is invisible.’’ Sabbath at length came, the day on which he had announced in his congregation, Providence permitting, he would preach; but instead of going into the sanctuary below to warn sinners, and comfort mourners, and build up believers, just about the time he should have ascended the pulpit he entered the sanctuary above, the building of God, the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, to wave that palm, and sing that song, and wear that crown we have so often heard him glowingly describe in his happiest hours.

He was disposed always to look upon death with some degree of dread, and to speak of the last conflict with the ’grim monster;’ and as he saw the hour of dissolution approaching, he nerved himself for the dying strife. He sought earnestly for dying grace, and that grace in rich abundance was given. He realized that the God of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob was with him, and all was well. After taking leave of his friends, and especially his only daughter, Mary, to whom, in the most affectionate manner, he spoke many precious words of comfort anil consolation, he calmly resigned himself to die. Visions of glory, however, were reserved for this dying herald of the cross, such as he had never witnessed before. As he neared the Jordan, and the land of Beulah spread out its bowers on either hand, like the dying Payson he was enabled to see the celestial city on the other shore, while he was fanned by its breezes, regaled by its odors, and enraptured by its transporting sounds. When his pilgrim feet touched the dark, cold waters, he exclaimed, "O, how gently my Savior leads me through!"

"Happy soul, thy days are ended — All thy mourning days below; Go, by angel guards attended, To the sight of Jesus, go."