Project Canterbury

History of the American Episcopal Church 1600-1915

By the Reverend S. D. McConnell, D.D., D.C.L., LL. D.

Milwaukee: Morehouse Publishing Co., 1934.
London: A. R. Mowbray & Co., 1934.

Part Second. The Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States.

Chapter VI. From the Old to the New

Old men and new times; a dark epoch; French infidelity; position of the Church; Confirmation; slack administration; troubles in New York; election of Hobart; the question of wigs; condition in the South; low estate in Virginia; Meade ordained; situation in New England; Bishop Seabury's manner; Dr. Coke's proposition; Methodists gone beyond recall; dawning of better days; new men at work; representative men; beginning of Sunday-schools; state of the Church in 1820.

Between 1790 and the close of the War of 1812, a profound change occurred in America. It was the passage from colonial to modern life. The Revolution had made it necessary and cleared the way for it. The Federal Constitution had fixed the lines of its ultimate development. The Protestant Episcopal Church was equipped to keep step with it. But the mature men of 1790 had been reared in a social, religious, and commercial environment as different from that into which their sons emerged when they took the management of affairs, as could well be imagined. The fathers, both in Church and State, had been wise builders. But they were as little at home in the house which they had erected as is the plain and successful man of business in the splendid mansion which he builds for his children after he has made his fortune. The Revolutionary men were too old to adjust themselves easily to the new régime. That compelled the abandonment of old customs, and prejudices still more close-clinging than custom. Wigs were laid aside. The sword, heretofore the badge of a gentleman, ceased to be carried. Distinctions of social rank were beginning to fade, to the great disturbance of them of the ancien régime. The formal manners of the colonial period were passing away, and the sharp, businesslike intercourse of modern times was coming in. [Johnson: History of the U.S., p. 167.] The bishops and statesmen who were to the fore at the beginning of the period were men of the old school. Those whom we shall see at its end were modern men. The change from the old order to the new led through an unhappy and turbulent epoch. In its turmoils the men of clear vision, sagacious mind, and strong hand, who had fought a battle against odds, cemented the State, founded a Nation, and organized a Church, one by one dropped out of sight. It seemed as though the titanic task they had accomplished had drained their energies. One of the most brilliant epochs in the history of the American people is followed closely by one of the darkest. The body politic and the body ecclesiastic seemed exhausted after the strain of the great effort for independence. Disorders of all sorts broke out in the depleted system. Virulent party strife racked it with pains. Federalist and anti-Federalist assailed each other with a rancor unknown in modern politics. No name was so great and no character so high as to bring its owner safety. Washington was called a "fool by nature," and Franklin a "fool by old age." Scurrilous pamphlets, abounding in personalities, pasquinades, and libellous newspaper articles were the least objectionable of the weapons used. [M'Master: History of the U.S., vol. i. ch. 5.] When these were not violent enough, clubs and smallswords took their places. Both parties agreed in attacking what they thought the shameful extravagance of Congressmen. States wrangled about the ownership of the public lands, and while they argued, land jobbers stole them. [Hawks: Ecclesiastical Contributions, vol. Va., Appendix, p. 81.] Debate ran fierce and high about slavery. The smallpox devastated New England, and the yellow fever threatened to depopulate Philadelphia and New York. A shameful panic seized the people. Ties of nature and of affection were disregarded, and each man thought only of himself. The horrid selfishness of fear demoralized the populace. The Indians broke out against the frontiersmen on the Ohio and the Maumee. Harmer and St. Clair were beaten by their savage enemies, and it looked as though the movement westward would be stayed at the Ohio. Algerine pirates seized upon the ships of the new nation and sold their crews into a hopeless slavery. Speculation ran rife. Even city councils took to gambling. Drunkenness threatened to debauch the nation. In the Western settlements whiskey was the only currency used. A tax on its manufacture raised an insurrection which it required the national resources to suppress. In 1810 there were fourteen thousand distilleries in the country, producing two and a half gallons of raw spirits annually for every person in the population, a rate never since reached. [Schouler: History of the U.S., vol. ii.] The subsiding animosity against England and all things English was fanned into a new flame by the terms of the British Treaty and the hateful Tory claims. [Ib., vol. i. pp. 456, 459.] "M'Fingal," a satire upon the Tories, after the manner of "Hudibras," was in every hand and upon every tongue. [Trumbull: "M'Fingal," now only remembered by its surviving couplet,--"No rogue e'er felt the halter draw,/with good opinion of the law."]

It was the period dominated by French infidelity. The service rendered the Americans by Lafayette and his compatriots during the war had won the people's heart. France seemed to promise a sister republic. Previous to the reaction caused by the atrocities of the French Revolution, French manners were all the rage. Talleyrand, the apostate Bishop of Autun, De Noailles, Rochefoucauld, Louis Philippe himself, were honored guests. The tri-colored cockade was the favorite decoration. The shallow atheism which led the French to abolish God by decree was widespread here. Jefferson was its scarcely disguised apostle. Tom Paine became its champion. His "Age of Reason," published in 1794, had a circulation and an influence hardly equalled by any single book since. [Hildreth : History of the U.S., vol. ii. p. 464.] Its succinct, portable, and specious, even if shallow, arguments commended it to the thousands who were already under the influence of the same spirit from which it emanated, and were delighted to find arguments placed in their mouths. Especially in the South and West did this prevail. The days of Christianity were thought to be numbered, and a reign of "Reason" was at hand. Like the Ingersollism of a later

date, it was welcomed by the half educated, who wished the freedom from moral restraints which it carried with it. When Jefferson was chosen President, it seemed to have triumphed utterly. Presidents have been elected since who have sat loosely to the Christian faith, but not before or since Jefferson who have been voted for on that ground. [Centennial Council, Va., p. 139. i Chase: Reminiscences, vol. i. p. 108.]

It was a period prolific of sects. Specially in the West and South a brood of them was born. The sober Presbyterianism which the Scotch-Irish had lately carried into Tennessee and Kentucky was overwhelmed by the wave of revivalism which reached its height in this period. [Roosevelt: Winning of the West, vol. i. p. 133. Hildreth: History of the U.S., vol. ii. p. 463.] Upon its ruins arose a growth of extravagant churches, so called, destined afterward to fill the valley of the Ohio.

What could the newly organized Church do in such an age? The devastation of war, the fury of political strife, the revived animosity to England and all things English, the craze of French infidelity, the unsettling of fixed habits, the loosening of creeds, the weakening of reverence, all wrought against her growth.

By the happy union of the New England and the Federal ideas in the ecclesiastical constitution, signed by all the States in 1789, the Church had escaped the peril of permanent schism, not to say of anarchy. Upon the death of poor Dr. Griffith, Virginia chose Dr. Madison, who went to England for consecration, and thus completed the English line. Both lines combined in consecrating Dr. Claggett Bishop of Maryland. South Carolina, which had only entered the Federal Church on the condition that no bishop should be sent to her, came to a better mind three years later, and elected Dr. Robert Smith. Massachusetts, the Eastern Diocese, and New Jersey followed. To complete the organization was thenceforth an easy task. The real problem was how to set the enginery of the Church into efficient motion. For a brief period it seemed as though success would be immediate. Multitudes flocked to Confirmation. Bishop Seabury confirmed two hundred and fifty at one time [Beardsley: History of the Church in Connecticut, vol. i. p. 430.] at Stratford, and nearly twice as many at Waterbury. At Bishop Provoost's first Confirmation at Trinity Church, over three hundred presented themselves. They included children of fourteen, and tottering old men and women, who went from the chancel to their pews muttering their Nunc Dimittis. Two venerable ladies were led up by their colored slaves, who stood humbly by until the rite was over. [Norton: Life of Bishop Provoost, p. 132.] Bishop Madison, at his first and only visitation to the tidewater section of his State, confirmed six hundred in five parishes. [Centennial Council, Va., p. 140.] But when the novelty of the rite, now for the first time made possible, had worn away, it became very generally neglected. Bishop White does not seem to have deemed Confirmation more essential for the people than he had deemed it for himself. He had never been confirmed at all. He rarely made visitations outside of Philadelphia and the towns close by. [Rev. Dr. J. H. Hopkins, in The Churchman, April 22, 1884.] He never crossed the mountains but once. The many Church people who had made their homes in Western Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Eastern Kentucky were entirely neglected. [Rev. Dr. J. H. Hopkins, in The Churchman, April 22, 1884.] A convocation of clergy assembled in 1801 at Washington, Pa., coming from these districts, wrote to Bishop White, asking that something might be done to organize the Church in the West, but, after waiting eighteen months for an answer, were told that nothing could be done. Bishop White does not give any account at all of his Episcopal work until 1809. During the twenty years which succeed, his visitations averaged only six parishes per annum. In the twelve parishes beyond the Alleghenies, Confirmation was never seen but once in his long Episcopate. Indeed he protests in set terms against "the supposition in the minds of many, that a bishop should always be engaged in visitations." [White: Memoirs, p. 467.] He declares that it is contrary to the usage of diocesan bishops in all ages; that a bishop's time is "as much due to his own family as are any of his services to the Church"; that it is inconsistent with a learned Episcopacy; that it would be oppressive upon an aged and infirm bishop. The bishops were all rectors of parishes, [Virginia, from fear that the bishop might come to be considered different from the other clergy, passed a canon compelling him to be rector of a parish. Hawks: Contributions, vol. Va., p. 214.] and regarded the work of their Episcopal office but little, except in the single function of ordination. Bishop Madison, after his first visitation, paid no further attention to his diocese, but occupied himself entirely with his duties as President of William and Mary College. [Norton: Life of Bishop Provoost, p. 174.] The first Bishop of South Carolina never confirmed at all. [Perry: History. vol. ii. p. 189, note.] After his death, no successor was chosen for eleven years. Bishop Provoost resigned in 1801, and busied himself with making a new translation of Tasso, and the study of botany. [Sprague: Annals, vol. v. p. 244.] During this time he entirely neglected the services of the Church and the Holy Communion. [Perry: History, vol. i. p. 190.] The convention of his diocese met irregularly. During three successive years it did not meet at all. [Norton: Life of Bishbp Provoost, p. 168.] The coadjutor, Bishop Moore, proceeded in the same easy fashion, commending the Church, however, as Provoost did not, by his own gentle piety. In 1811 he was stricken with paralysis. Dr. Hobart was thereupon chosen the third Bishop of New York, all three of whom were living at the same time. The situation caused great searchings of heart. The interest, however, did not revolve about the problem of the Church's progress, but of her internal arrangement. We first catch a glimpse here of the party spirit destined later to convulse the Church, and see an exhibition of that pettiness which has always been her besetting sin. The "Low Churchmen" were bitterly opposed to Dr. Hobart's election. Bishop Provoost, to the general amazement, laid down his lexicons, closed his herbariums, and came out to head the opposition. He declared that his resignation ten years earlier had not been irrevocable. He proposed now to assume the administration himself, and would not require the services of the bishop-elect. His contention was so preposterous that the House of Bishops would not hear of it, and even his own convention would not allow it. Dr. Hobart must be consecrated. But when the day fixed for the ceremony arrived, the deplorable weakness of the Church appeared. There were six bishops in the United States. Three were necessary to consecrate another. Bishop Provoost was broken in health, and his naturally infirm temper was weakened by the transaction of which this ceremony formed the conclusion. It was very doubtful if he either could or would be present. Bishop Madison of Virginia was so indifferent to the whole affair that he did not think of leaving his college duties for such a purpose. Bishop Claggett of Maryland was taken ill on his way North, and obliged to turn back. Only Bishops White of Pennsylvania and Jarvis of Connecticut were available. It looked as though another journey must be made to England for consecration. That would indeed have been easier than to secure the attendance of three American bishops at one time and place. Finally Bishop Provoost consented to join in the consecration if his health would allow him to go to the church. The other bishops then agreed that if he should be unable, the service might be held in his bedchamber. Fortunately he found the strength and the will to attend at Trinity Church. But upon his arrival a great difficulty arose. He had adorned his head with a wig, and the other bishops wore only their hair. It was solemnly discussed whether or not so important a function could be performed wigless. [Norton: Life of Bishop Provoost, p. 176.] Dr. Duché offered to lend Bishop White his for the occasion. But Bishop Jarvis, in that case, would be singular. Bishop White adduced the high example of Archbishop Tillotson, whose portrait shows him wigless. This illustrious precedent was deemed satisfactory for the two, while Bishop Provoost should uphold ancient usage in his Episcopal headdress. The question being settled, the services proceeded, and the three surviving men of the old order laid their hands upon Bishop Hobart, the first of modern Churchmen.

Throughout the South and the frontier the condition of things was no better. Between Virginia and South Carolina lay a broad belt of settlements where parishes had once been, and where many Church families were scattered yet. Among the population which was pouring over the Cumberland Mountains into Kentucky and Tennessee there were hundreds of Episcopalians from Maryland and Virginia. These were all as sheep without a shepherd, and were, for the most part, lost finally to the Church. [Id: Life of Bishop Claggett, p. 110.] In the two old States where the Church had been established, destruction was abroad. The loss of the State support, upon which they had become accustomed to lean, left them broken in fortune and in spirit. In Maryland, party strife added the last touch to the dark picture. When. Bishop Claggett grew infirm, and Dr. Kemp was chosen for his assistant, a secession took place, under the lead of Rev. Daniel Dashiell, of Baltimore, and an "Evangelical Episcopal Church" set up. [Hawks: Contributions, vol. Md., p. 422.] The abortive schism never effected more than to harass the already wearied Church. The dawn of a better day was even then visible.

But it was in old Virginia where the gloom was deepest. The Church had been in control there for two centuries, until within a generation. But that generation had turned away from her in indifference or in anger. During the war, her laymen, the Washingtons, Henrys, Lees, Pendletons, had taken the patriotic side, while the clergy had clung to England and to their glebes. When the new order of things came in, the Church's power was foredoomed. In the judgment of the people it had been misused, and they meant to take it away entirely. The laymen stood by impassive, or joined in the spoliation. In 1802 the blow fell, and the Church's property was swept away at a stroke. Glebes and churches were sold for a song. [Ib., vol. Va., p. 224 et seq. Centennial Council, Virginia, p. 70.] The proceeds, which, it had been enacted by the Legislature, should be "used for any public purpose not religious," were embezzled by the sheriff's officers. Guzzling planters toped from stolen chalices and passed the cheese about in patens. A marble font became a horse trough. Communion plate, the gift of the good Queen Anne, adorned the sideboards of officers of State and country gentlemen. The clergy in large numbers laid down their spiritual callings. At the outbreak of the war they had numbered ninety. At its close, only twenty-eight could be counted. After the spoliation they lost all heart. No convention was held from 1806 to 1812. Then only thirteen could be assembled. When they adjourned it was with no expectation of ever meeting again. [Centennial Council, Virginia, p. 143.] "They fear," said the House of Deputies to the Bishop, "the Church in Virginia is so depressed that there is danger of her utter ruin." The people had already gone from her. The Rev. Devereux Jarratt declares that before the Revolution he had often nine hundred or a thousand communicants; now, since the Methodists have done their work, he can scarcely find forty hearers.

When William Meade was ordained deacon at Williamsburg, in 1811, two ladies and fifteen gentlemen, most of them his relatives, formed the congregation. The citizens were filling their ice houses, and the students, with their dogs and guns, had gone hunting. The church was dilapidated and the windows broken. There were grave suspicions that the Bishop himself had renounced the Christian faith. [Meade: Old Churches, vol. i. pp. 29­30.] The literary society of the college had lately discussed: First, Whether there be a God? Secondly, Whether the Christian religion had been injurious or beneficial to mankind? Infidelity was then rife in the State, and the College of William and Mary was regarded as the hotbed of French politics and religion. "I can truly say," says Bishop Meade, "that then, and for some years after, in every educated young man whom I met, I expected to find a sceptic, if not an unbeliever." No minister had been ordained for years save one unworthy fellow, and it was a passing wonder to the people that a young man of good family, an educated man, a graduate of Princeton, should enter the ministry of the Episcopal Church! [Perry: History, vol. ii. p. 143.]

In Connecticut, indeed throughout New England, the Church maintained its own, but made scant progress. Bishop Seabury took his office seriously. He was strong in the thing, but lacked grace in the manner. "I, Samuel, by Divine permission Bishop of Connecticut, ... issue this injunction, hereby authorizing and requiring you, and every one of you, the Presbyters and Deacons of the Church above mentioned, to make the following alterations in the Liturgy and Offices of the Church." [Beardsley: Life of Seabury, p. 386.] This was his style toward those who recognized his authority. In an "Address to Ministers and Congregations of the Presbyterian and Independent persuasions in the United States of America," he charges them to return to the fold. This could only be done by "relinquishing those errors which they, through prejudice, had imbibed." This sort of treacle catches few flies. On the other hand, his clear and emphatic presentation of the position of the Church had its effect upon a people who have always been moved by argument rather than by feeling. But even in New England a new hostility had arisen. The old charge of lack of spiritual earnestness had been revived. [Character and Principles of the Protestant Episcopal Church Vindicated: New Haven, 1816.] A concerted attempt, in which the Puritan clergy joined, to damage her prospects and reputation, had been systematically undertaken. [Letter from a Churchman to his Friend in New Haven, 1808.]

It seems unfortunate that it should have fallen to the bishops of this period to meet and pass upon one of the most momentous questions which have ever been brought before that house. This was a proposition from Dr. Coke, the first of the Methodist superintendents. He had been set apart by Wesley in 1784, and had himself commissioned Mr. Asbury in America to complete the organization of that numerous body, then members of the Episcopal Church. After some years of work and experience, Coke, still a clergyman of the Church, wrote to the new-made Bishops Seabury and White, offering a plan of reunion. He proposed that he and Mr. Asbury should be consecrated "as bishops of the Methodist Society in the United States (or by any other title, if that be not proper), on the supposition of the union of the two churches, under proper mutual stipulation." Bishop Seabury never answered his letter at all. [Beardsley: Life of Seabury, p. 401.] Bishop White replied in his usual courteous style. Bishop Madison of Virginia, who knew better than any of the others who and what the Methodists were, and what their needs were, was anxious that the matter should be accomplished, but the other bishops were untouched. Bishop Seabury did not want it, and Bishop White did not believe it possible. [Perry History, vol. ii. p. 126.] They dismissed the project with a general declaration that the Church was always desirous of unity, was ready to alter or modify anything save essentials to this end, and recommended to the several States to propose such conferences with Christians of other denominations as they might think most prudent. At first sight it would seem as though the Church had lost the opportunity of the century through the incapacity of the old bishops to comprehend the new condition of things. Could they have foreseen the mighty ecclesiastical empire to which American Methodism was destined to grow, they would doubtless have laid aside all else, and striven to avert its final separation from its mother. The severance has been fruitful of evil to both mother and child. But it is doubtful if they could have succeeded. It was even then too late. Had the Bishop of London hearkened to Wesley's earnest prayer a dozen years before, and ordained men to look after the thousands of Methodists who were then members of the Bishop's own flock, the division would probably have been averted. But he had refused, and the mischief was done. Wesley's action in sending out superintendents had been well and wisely done. It was the action of a High Churchman [Stevens: History of Methodism, Appendix.] and an earnest man. There was no bishop here then, and, so far as men could see, no likelihood of any. Meanwhile "the hungry sheep looked up and were not fed." That the superintendents should take upon themselves the office of bishop, whether they assumed its title or not, was inevitable. No chagrin of Wesley could change the course of events. He had, with an honest purpose, built an engine which he could not control; but the first American bishops were not the men to either control or direct it. Their great work was done. It had been to organize American Episcopacy. That they had done well and wisely. To bring it into right relation with the other component parts of American Christianity was to be the duty of their descendants a century later.

As the chaotic period now before us draws to its end, signs of new vigor in the Church begin to appear. A generation of men born and reared under the new order are now coming upon the stage. The field is being prepared by a hundred unthought-of agencies. The unpopular war with England in 1812 has ended, and a better understanding exists than did when it began. Churchmen had fought on the American side, and had won their comrades' goodwill. Napoleon's duplicity has disgusted the people with the French influence. The Cumberland Road has been built from the Potomac to the Ohio and beyond. Canals have been opened up to carry emigrants and goods. The vast region east of the Mississippi has been purchased. Wayne has broken and scattered the Indians. Settlers' cabins have begun to dot the prairies. Lewis and Clark have toiled up the Missouri, and paddled down the Columbia. Fulton's new steamboat has carried wondering passengers up the Hudson, and its sister craft has been built on the Ohio. Manufactories have crossed the Alleghenies. The cotton gin has started new life in the South. A highway has been cast up. The old life has gone. The modern America has come.

With it have come new men. Bishop Hobart is impressing the true spirit of the American Church upon New York and Connecticut. Meade is gathering up the scattered and broken forces in Virginia. Empie and Judd are laying foundations in North Carolina. The sagacious Parker is adjusting the Church to the new life in Massachusetts. The outlying provinces to the northward have been gathered into the Eastern Diocese, and Bishop Griswold is doing apostolic work there. That adventurous missionary and builder; Philander Chase, has organized a congregation at New Orleans, and has come home to prepare for his strange career in the Ohio valley. An Episcopal Academy has been founded in Philadelphia, and another in Connecticut. The Virginia Churchmen are moving to establish a theological seminary. [Centennial Council, Va., p. 79.] The "Advancement Society" is beginning its work among the frontiersmen. A similar society in New York is sustaining a mission among the Oneidas and Mohawks. Bishop Hobart confirms eighty-nine Indians at one visitation, and ninety-seven at another. [Norton: Life of Bishop Hobart, pp. 56, 83.] His scheme for a theological seminary at New York is about to be realized through the generous gift of a layman, Jacob Sherred. Tract societies, Bible societies, Prayer Book societies, have been founded, and a Church newspaper is started. [Ib., p. 43.] Dr. Hobart puts forth his "Companion for the Altar," and defends Church order in the Albany Centinel against the Dutch Reformed Dr. Linn and the Presbyterian Samuel Miller. In his "Apology for Apostolic Order" he gained an honorable place for the theory of Episcopacy in the controversial world. Churchmen were coming to the front in American literature, as they had a generation before in statesmanship, and as they were even now in law. Chief Justice Marshall and Chancellor Kent stood foremost in their profession. Gulian C. Verplanck, Irving, Cooper, and Richard Henry Dana brought a new and broader life to American letters.

The Bishops of the new régime make diligent and regular visitations. In some States an Episcopal Fund has been begun, and the Bishop is, in part at least, set free from the engrossing cares of a parish. The multifarious machineries fir parochial work are not yet thought of. The Sunday-school is seen in the process of its evolution. As yet it is upon trial, and is more a secular than a religious device. In an Anniversary Address in 1817, [Anniversary of the New York Sunday-school Society, 1818.] Bishop Hobart offers a lengthy defence of the plan to teach a modicum of Church doctrine, as distinguished from the "non-sectarian" instruction then in use. The report of the society before which he speaks shows that up to that time there had been published for the Sunday schools in the city 8,000 alphabet cards; 2,000 spelling books; 740 primers; 167 Prayer books; that several women over sixty had learned to spell quite well; that twelve classes of colored children had learned to read in words of one syllable; that, in the February before, Grace Church had started a school in which fourteen gentlemen had come forward as teachers, and they had opened with twenty scholars; that the society hopes soon to issue 2,000 Scripture Lessons, being Bishop Gastrell's "Christian Institutes, a Compleat System of the Doctrines and Precepts of the Gospel, in a Connected Series of Scripture Texts;" that they have collected eight hundred dollars, of which two hundred dollars has been paid as salaries to superintendents, and for desks, while the balance is on hand; that they venture to think the success for the year a convincing argument in favor of the new institution. [New York Sunday-school Society, Report for 1818.]

The General Convention Journal for 1820 gives a comprehensive view of the state of the Church. It reports that in Maine, "where for many years it was depressed and almost extinct," it "has now assumed a flourishing aspect"; that in New Hampshire there are nine churches; in Massachusetts it is flourishing, the Canons and Rubrics are generally observed, a large and elegant new church is nearly completed in Boston, and "a few small congregations have been collected in other towns; "in Vermont three new churches have been built, some new congregations have been gathered, and a suit has been entered to secure the demesnes; the Church in Rhode Island is flourishing, and "there is a decided and increasing attachment to the peculiarities of our Communion"; "in Connecticut no material change has taken place"; in New York the growth has been phenomenal,--twenty-four priests ordained and fourteen deacons, and thirty-six clergy have undertaken work in the State within the last three years; in New Jersey the "Church continues slowly to improve," eight Confirmations have been held in the last three years; in Pennsylvania it "is increasing as rapidly as, when all circumstances are considered, we have any reason to expect"; in Delaware "the state of affairs is certainly improving"; in Maryland is every sign of a new life, and it is recorded as noteworthy that the Bishop has visited nearly every church within the last three years; in Virginia the improvement has been greater still, there are now fifty clergy, and "the conduct of the communicants is more consistent"; in North Carolina the communicants have grown from fifty to more than three hundred; in South Carolina there are signs of a new life; from the remote region of Ohio little information has come, but several congregations are known to have been gathered, one at Dayton and one at Miami, at the least. [Gen. Con. Journal, 1820.]

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