A QUARTERLY MEETING IN THE OLDEN TIME.
Having enjoyed the counsels and encouragements of his Presiding
Elder, Neville gladly embraced the invitation to ride with him in
his substantial sleigh, well filled with wheat straw, on which
they sat, to the village of Ancaster, where a grand Quarterly
Meeting was to be held, to which the people came for many miles
around. Religious privileges at that time were few, and these
occasions were made the most of by the Methodists of the day.
There was preaching on the Saturday; then a business meeting, when
the contributions of the several classes were received. Of money
there was very little; but promises of contributions of flour,
pork, potatoes, hay and oats were gladly received instead.
On Saturday night a rousing prayer-meeting was held in the log
meeting-house. Fervent exhortations were given, for the preachers
looked for immediate results of their labours, and they were not
disappointed Several of the brethren and sisters "got happy," and
expressed their religions enjoyment in hymns and spiritual songs
often of rugged rhythm, but, sung with fervour as they were, they
seemed to bear up the soul as on wings to the very gate of heaven.
Most of these hymns had a refrain of simple yet striking melody,
in which every one in the house took part. A great favourite was
the following:
"O the house of the Lord shall be filled
With glory, hallelujah!
With glory, hallelujah!
With glory, hallelujah! Amen
"Let the preachers be filled with thy love.
Sing glory, hallelujah! etc.
"Let the members be filled with thy love,
Sing glory, hallelujah! etc.
"And the work of the Lord shall revive,
Sing glory, hallelujah! Amen!"
The tide of religious feeling rose higher and higher. The standing
invitation of Methodism to weary souls seeking the forgiveness of
their sins, was given. Several persons presented themselves at the
"penitent bench," most of whom were enabled to rejoice in a sense
of conscious pardon.
Sunday was indeed a "high day" at the old Ancaster log meeting-
house. From near and far, in sleighs, on horseback, and on foot,
came methodist worshippers, and found hospitable welcome with the
families of the neighbourhood. First there was love-feast at nine
o'clock. The cruel war had not left unscathed that rustic
congregation. There were rusty weeds of woe,--a black ribbon, a
bit of crape, or a widow's cap,--that bore witness to the loss of
husband or son in the sad conflict. The empty sleeve, pinned
across the breast of one stout young fellow, showed that the
strong right arm with which he had hoped to fight his battle of
life, and hew out a home in the wilderness, had been buried in a
gory trench with the bodies of his slain friends and neighbours.
But their temporal sufferings seemed to have driven these simple-
minded people nearer to the source of all comfort and consolation.
Many of the experiences and hymns had quite a martial ring. One of
the latter was as follows:
"Ye soldiers of Jesus, pray stand to your arms.
Prepare for the battle, the Gospel alarms.
The signal of victory, hark! hark! from the sky;
Shout, shout, ye brave armies, the watchmen all cry,
Come with us, come with us,
Come with us in love,
Let us all march together to Heaven above.
"To battle, to battle, the trumpets do sound,
The watchmen are crying fair Zion around;
Some shouting, some singing, salvation they cry,
In the strength of King Jesus, all hell we defy.
Come with us," etc.
As this was taken up by one after another and welled into a grand
chorus, it was impossible not to share the enthusiasm that it
created. Another prime favourite was the following:
"Jesus, my king, proclaims the war;
I want to die in the army;
Awake, the powers of hell are near,
I want to die in the army.
"'To arms! to arms!' I hear the cry,
'Tis yours to conquer or to die,'
O the army, the army, the army of the Lord!
I want to die in the army."
The god-fearing Canadian yeomanry, as they sang these strains,
nourished at once their religious feelings and their patriotic
enthusiasm. They felt in their hearts that love of King and
country, and their valiant defence and self-sacrifice on their
behalf, were also an acceptable service to God.
After the love-feast was a short intermission, during which a
luncheon of seed-cakes, comfits and doughnuts were eaten as a
preparation for the after service. Elder Ryan, whose warm,
emotional Irish nature had been deeply affected by the experiences
of the love-feast, preached one of his most spirit-stirring
sermons. It was like the peal of a clarion calling to the battle
of Armageddon the warriors of God against the powers of darkness.
He was interrupted, but not the least disconcerted, by
exclamations of "Amen!" "Hallelujah!" "Praise the Lord!" They
seemed rather to give wings to his eloquence, for soaring in
still loftier flights of eloquence.
After the sermon the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper was
administered to those devout worshippers. By these sacred
ordinances, amid the carking cares and tribulations of the present
life, were kept in view the far more important realities of the
life that is to come, and the souls of the people were enbraved
and strengthened for the conflicts, both literal and figurative,
to which they were called.