dictions within the bounds of what had formerly been the common territory of Methodism.

It seems that the New England delegates who had imbibed the philosophy of Garrison and Phillips had learned that Bishop Andrew was "an offender"; and while they could not demand that an unofficial church member be punished for owning slave property, they could insist upon arraigning an official overseer. Consequently when his name was called they challenged his character. It is needless to say that the Southern contingent were greatly incensed. If more of them did not own slaves it was less because of moral scruples than because of financial restrictions. They were richer in heavenly than in worldly stores; and even Bishop Andrew was not an exception, having acquired his few slaves partly by inheritance and partly by dower. He had never entered the slave market; and he candidly explained the situation. Nevertheless the New England delegates refused to be placated, and the fight continued.

An ardent champion of the constitutional rights and individual liberties of the South, Bishop Pierce took the floor; and after showing that the arraignment of Bishop Andrew could be grounded upon no just Biblical or ecclesiastical basis, he took in conclusion the position that if New England was wedded to her theories she had better withdraw rather than disturb the harmonious spirit of the general conference. He was measurably reinforced in this way of thinking by the fact that New England was already inclining toward congregationalism and was at variance with the fundamental doctrines of Methodism with respect to polity; and he predicted that it would not be long before episcopacy in New England would be

given up. Numerous speeches were made on both sides by representative members and considerable ardor was manifested; but Bishop Andrew was sacrificed in order to appease New England. And the South thereupon filed notice of her own intention to withdraw.

It was an eloquent speech which Bishop Pierce had made, but to show that while his advice was radical his feelings were wholly unmixed with bitterness an incident may be cited as illustrative of his perfect good humor. One of the New York delegates who was about the same age as Bishop Pierce, but decidedly bald on top, answered him with great vehemence, declaring that the speech of his young brother was an eloquent piece of declamation, and giving it an interpretation which was far different from what the youthful speaker had intended. Craving the indulgence of the body Bishop Pierce endeavored to set him right, and then said in conclusion: "And now, sir, though my speech has shocked your nerves so badly, I trust my explanation will not ruffle a hair on the top of your head."

Bishop Pierce was in attendance upon the annual conference when he delivered his great address before the American Bible Society in New York, mention of which has already been made; and his effort on this occasion was largely an impromptu affair. He had previously delivered an address at Emory College upon the same general theme; but he had been so completely preoccupied by the exciting deliberations of the conference that he had little time for putting his thoughts together. Nevertheless it is doubtful if the equal of that speech was ever heard on any like occasion. A paragraph only can be cited. "The

Bible,” said he, "is the guide of the erring and the reclaimer of the wandering. It heals the sick, consoles the dying and purifies the living. Let the master give it to the pupil, the professor to his class, the father to his son, the mother to her daughter. Place it in every home in the land. Then shall the love of God cover the earth and the light of salvation overlay the land as the sunbeams of morning lie upon the mountains.”

Though barely thirty-three the fame of the young orator was now emblazoned upon the national sky. From 1849 to 1854 he occupied the executive chair of Emory College, having filled the leading pastorates in the State before resuming educational work; and he was successfully engaged in directing the affairs of Emory College when he was called to serve the church in the exalted capacity of bishop.

Thirty years of usefulness were spent upon this lofty eminence; and after celebrating the fiftieth aniversary of his marriage he died at his home in Sparta, Georgia, in the fall of 1884, passing from his golden wedding to his golden recompense; and Georgia was called upon to mourn the death of an orator divine whose eloquence had probably not been surpassed since Constantinople heard the golden accents of Chrysostom.

CHAPTER XLVI.

Bill Arp: Georgia's Rustic Philosopher and

Humorist.

D

URING the reconstruction days, when the spirit of heaviness was upon the whole South, it was Major Chas. H. Smith who, emerging from the mountain recesses of upper Cherokee, Georgia, under the pen-name of Bill Arp, began to provoke the first goodnatured laughter which had rippled the State since the surrender of General Lee. The appearance of this genial prophet of optimism at this particular moment was like a burst of sunshine out of lowering storm-clouds. The plow was standing idle in the field. The military satraps were patroling the streets. The whole State was paralyzed with inertia. But in the midst of this condition of affairs Bill Arp began to philosophize; and what he had to say was spiced with such playful humor and at the same time seasoned with such rustic philosophy and good sense that he was hailed at once as an evangel of mirth who had been sent to lighten an ordeal which was otherwise almost literally beyond endurance. He stirred none of the old embers and irritated none of the old wounds; but with his droll pleasantries and sage aphorisms he did more to put heart and soul into Georgia than almost any other man in the State.

But Georgia was not the sole beneficiary of this new dispensation. The Courier-Journal, which was the leading Southern newspaper at the time, says that Bill Arp's letters sounded the first chirp which was heard anywhere in the South after the war. He won the affections of the whole reading public so completely that when the reconstruction period was over and he essayed to lay aside his pen, thinking his mission had been completed, there came such an emphatic protest from all the Southland that he was obliged to renew his contributions to the press, and he continued to write weekly until his death, which occurred nearly forty years later. How Major Smith began to write under the pen-name of Bill Arp is best told by Major Smith himself.

"Some time in the spring of 1861," says the mountain philosopher, "when our Southern boys were hunting for a fight and felt like they could whip all creation, Mr. Lincoln issued a proclamation ordering us all to disperse within thirty days, and to quit cavorting around.

"I remember writing an answer to it as though I was a good Union man and a law-abiding citizen and was willing to disperse if I could, but it was almost impossible, for the boys were mighty hot, and the way we made up our military companies was to send a man down the lines with a bucket of water and if a fellow sizzed like a hot iron in a slack trough we took him, and if he didn't sizz we didn't take him; but nevertheless, notwithstanding and so forth, if we could possibly disperse within thirty days we would do so, but I thought he had better give us more time, for I had been out in an old field by myself and tried to disperse and couldn't.