By W. M. WEEKLEY, D.D. Author of “Getting and Giving,” “From Life to Life,” Etc. “ Take thy part in suffering hardship as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. ”— 2 Tim. 2:3 Nineteen Hundred and Seven United Brethren Publishing House Dayton, Ohio ALL RIGHTS RESERVED...

It was not my purpose, in the preparation of this little volume, to make it an autobiography, but rather a narration of incidents connected with the twenty years of humble service which I tried to render the United Brethren Church among the mountains of West Virginia. These incidents present an all-round view, in outline, of the real life and labors of the itinerant preacher, a third of a century ago, in an isolated section, where the most simple and primitive customs prevailed. While some of th

The past lives through the printed page. The ages would be blank if books were not made recording the events and achievements of men. No form of history is more interesting and profitable than that which recites the career of those who, obedient to their divine commission, proclaimed to fellowmen the sweet message of Christ’s redeeming love. The completeness of their consecration, their undaunted courage and persistency in the face of many difficulties, and their marvelous success evidence in th

The Virginias have turned out more United Brethren preachers, perhaps, than any other section of the same size between the oceans. These pulpiteers have ranged in the scale of ability and efficiency from A to Z. Some achieved distinction in one way and another; others, though faithful and useful, were little known beyond their conference borders. Nor have all remained among the mountains. Dozens and scores of them have gone out into other parts of the Church. At this writing they are to be found

Philippi Circuit contained at this time the following appointments: Romines Mills, Gnatty Creek, Peck’s Run, Indian Fork, Mt. Hebron, Green Brier, and Zeb’s Creek. Later I added two more—one on Big Run, and the other on Brushy Fort, at the home of “Mother” Simons. Two of the preaching places lay “beyond” the Middle Fork River—a rolling, dashing stream, fresh from the mountains, and at times dangerous to cross. It was so clear that a silver piece the size of a quarter could be seen at a depth of

Hessville Mission embraced portions of Harrison and Marion counties, and was made up of the following preaching places: Quaker Fork, Glade Fork, Indian Run, Big Run, Little Bingamon, Ballard School-house, Salt Lick, Plumb Run, and Paw-paw. In all this territory we did not own a single church edifice. By fall I had added Dent’s Run, Bee Gum, and Glover’s Gap, making twelve appointments in all. At the last named place I held a revival in a union church. The meeting was good, and telling most favor

In March of 1878, the conference assembled in Grafton, with Bishop J. J. Glossbrenner as its presiding officer. At this session the brethren greatly surprised me by electing me one of the presiding elders. No thought of such a thing had ever entered my mind. I could not see the propriety of putting a young man, not yet twenty-seven, over men of age, ability, and experience, hence it was with no little diffidence that I accepted the West Columbia District, in the bounds of which I had already wor

The third year on the district brought the usual routine of duties and hardships. By the help of Brother John Dodds, who gave me fifty dollars, I was enabled to purchase a horse and buggy, paying $125 for the entire outfit. This arrangement relieved me of much walking. The horses and mules occasionally used during the previous years were borrowed or hired. My muleback riding, however, was suddenly broken off by a rather painful incident which occurred one night. Striking a bit of good road, I sp

The time of holding the annual conference having been changed from spring to fall, the next session was held at the Simmons’ chapel, in Lewis County. I was again made presiding elder, stationed on Parkersburg District, and soon moved to Pennsboro, where my headquarters remained for the next four years. My diocese extended from Parkersburg to Irondale, a distance, east and west, of one hundred and sixteen miles, and from the Ohio River on the north far interior to the south. The fields embraced w

In the days of which I write, a quarterly meeting was a great event, and to many it was a rare privilege to see and hear the “elder.” During the summer and fall, especially, the attendance in many instances would be immense. Not unfrequently the women and children present would more than fill the house, which made it necessary to seek a “shady bower,” if one could be found. If convenient, the seats were removed from the church and used in the grove, but often this could not be done. More than on

Buckhannon was again the seat of conference, and was in charge of Bishop Weaver. This was his last visit to West Virginia. My district reported about 600 conversions and accessions to the church. The average salary for the pastors of the conference was $230. After paying house rent and car fare, I had $365.79 left for the support of a family of five, and with which to purchase books, papers, and stationery; but I did not complain; it was more than the average circuit-rider was getting. On this l