"From this we appointed a general meeting to be held at Ascott, on the 8th, 9th, and 10th of October. It being a time of war between two powerful nations, our situation was rendered very unpleasant in many respects. Our provincial officers were much opposed to our travelling from town to town, and our brethren in general refused to bear arms. This enraged the officers. They frequently sent spies to our meetings to see if we prayed for the king and if we preached against the government, as we afterward learned. One of the officers once accosted me in these words: 'Well, Mr. Badger, I understand you do not pray for the king!' 'You are mistaken, sir, I do pray for the king.' 'But how do you pray for him?' 'I pray that he may become converted, and be a child of God.' 'Ah! but that won't do; you ought to pray for the success of his arms.' 'I do, sir, pray for his arms, that his swords may be beaten into ploughshares and his spears into pruning-hooks. This is the best prayer I can make in his behalf.' He did not seem to like my answer, but said no more to me.
"The October meeting coming off at this time, made no small stir among the people, and the wicked, as of old, 'took counsel together against the Lord, and against His anointed.' As they had been successful in driving two good preachers out of the country, they were now emboldened to make a strong attempt, first to frighten us out of the country, and should they fail in that, which they did, to disturb our meetings as their next best stroke of policy. They issued warrants for nine of us, myself and two other ministers, and six of the leading members of our churches. We were arrested on the first day of our meeting, which had opened under promising auspices, as enemies to the Government. I had an insight into their methods before any part of their plot was executed; for as I was on my way the morning of the 8th, and within eight or nine miles of the meeting, an officer with whom I was acquainted, hailed me from his house and observed if I would wait a few moments he would be my company. As we rode along I drew from him a development of the whole plot, and at that time I became his prisoner. The greatest fear I had was this, that the meeting would be essentially disturbed. The prisoners were to be delivered and have their trial at Mr. Stone's tavern, one mile from the place of the meeting, at the same time that it was in progress. When I arrived at the place where the congregation was to convene, I called, found several preachers present, and some brethren to whom I related the whole of what was about to transpire. Some were filled with fear. I advised them to discover no alarm, but to go on composedly with their meeting, provided there should not be more than ten persons left, after the rulers should have sifted the audience in their legal network, and to pay no attention whatever to us who were absent, except to remember us kindly in their prayers; and away I went to stand in the presence of authority. Soon, however, I was favored with the company of brother Amos Bishop, a faithful minister of the Gospel. He came in rejoicing that he was counted worthy to suffer for Jesus' sake. Our trial formally opened on Friday noon, but not much was done. At evening I obtained a room in which to hold meeting, thinking that inasmuch as the legal process was tardy, the ministers present could make no better use of their leisure time than in preaching Christ to all who would become our hearers. Seats were prepared, and the neighbors flocked in. I then walked into the somewhat spacious bar-room to invite the honorable court to attend, a body composed of three magistrates, viz.: Pennoyer, Nichols, and Hyat, who were at the time merrily passing the glass. Making to them as courteous an address as I was capable, in which I stated the superlative worth of the religion of Christ in the soul, I gave them an invitation to be with us. They did not make much reply, but stood by the door, as we learned, where they could hear the communications of the meeting. Never did we enjoy a more glorious time, never did we realize the divine presence more joyfully than here under keepers. Many brethren came to see us, their eyes filled with tears, whilst our hearts overflowed with joy.
"Saturday morning I arose very early and obtained permission to visit my brethren at the general meeting on condition that I would return at nine o'clock. I enjoyed my visit there; but what most affected me was this. Just as the sun had begun to brighten the eastern sky, after I had started, I met my oldest sister and my brother's wife, who had heard of my bonds, and hastened with eyes and hearts full of sympathetic concern for my welfare. They had arrived at the place the night previous, and were at that early hour hastening to the lodgings of their poor brother Joseph in afflictions. When I saw them I could not refrain from tears. They brought me money and articles of clothing, which were acceptable to me at that time. They tarried through the meeting and returned home.
"At ten o'clock the court sat, and the whole scene together was one at which the student of human nature might have sat with amusement, scorn, edification, and pity. False witnesses arose as in ancient days. I say false witnesses, because they proved so before the court. They stated that we had opposed our brethren in bearing arms, that we had spoken diminutively of the British king, topics on which the public speakers present had been silent. Finally, at the close we were bound over for our appearance at court, which sat at the Three Rivers, and only twenty-five minutes were granted us in which to procure bondsmen. This we utterly declined doing. I told them that I knew the character of the cause in which I was called to suffer; that for me the Stone Jug had no terrors, and that if I must occupy its walls, I should trust that the same God who heard Paul's prayers and songs at midnight, would also be my friend. At this a captain was ordered to take charge of me. Bishop answered rather independently, and asked Esq. P. to be his bondsman, but at length informed them that he despised their power. At this we were companions. Many present who were at first our enemies, came to me in tears, and offered to be our bondsmen. A captain who had carefully observed all that had transpired, came and offered to pledge his farm for me. At this, sympathy became contagious, and the spectators, who had thus far been watchfully silent, began to damn the squires, two of whom were now observed to stagger, having taken too much whiskey to retain a respectable command of their persons. One of them took me aside, told me that he found no cause against me, that it was the others who had caused them to bind me over, that he had always been my friend, and would attend meeting the next day. The poor fellow fell from his horse on the way home, and broke his shoulder, which for weeks prevented him from leaving his house. Esq. P. the following day was found in the road drunk; and thus ended the suit. These events were not ineffectual. Our keepers, on seeing the agitation of the people, and the increase of our friends, on Monday morning, by the advice of Captain Ward, dismissed us, and told us to go about our business. This was a day of glad news to the brethren, who in trembling fear and faith, had borne us in their prayers to the Invisible King; and now having a little leisure, I improved it in visiting my friends at Compton. I had not seen my father's house for months. I spent some time with them very agreeably—relived past scenes in conversation—bade them an affectionate farewell and again went to Shipton.
"In the latter part of the year 1813, when on my return from Shipton, my father sent me word that unless I could tarry several days, he wished me to send an appointment and preach at his house. This to me was welcome tidings, as I had long been waiting with hopeful anxiety for this opportunity to open. I sent an appointment, which soon spread over the town. No travelling minister had at this time ever preached at my father's house, and a large multitude assembled, probably under the impression that there was something new in the circumstance. Oh, how solemn, how memorable the scene! I had long been absent from home among strangers, had passed through a trying experience in which friendship and hatred had largely commingled, and now, at the invitation of a kind father, I stood amidst my relatives, brethren and old acquaintances, to speak freely on whatever I felt to be dear to the hope and salvation of man. I spoke from Mark 5: 19. 'Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on thee.' After the assembly had dispersed, my father and myself spent a great part of the night in conversation on the things of the kingdom, in which he rather favored the doctrine of Universalism. I had an agreeable visit of a few days, and went rejoicing on my way. I name these circumstances as they belong to the time I first preached at my father's house.
"At Shipton and vicinity, we had through the fall and first part of the winter, golden seasons, and many were added to the church of God. Party rage seemed to die away, and persecution greatly subsided. I now began to feel a dismission, so far as my labors and responsibilities were related to this region of country; and in casting my eye over the world as my lawful field, I longed to visit other lands, and carry to distant parts the unsectarian message of Repentance, Faith, and Love. During the winter I made several visits at Stanstead, a town lying on the eastern shore of Lake Memphremagog, where I saw a few persons converted, and where, with the saints of the Most High, I took sweet counsel. Also had many useful meetings in my father's vicinity.
"In the spring of 1814 I found my health exceedingly poor. Many thought I was inclining to the consumption. As the roads were exceedingly bad in the spring season throughout the province, I resolved to make but one general visit in each particular place where I had preached, unless particular impression should otherwise direct me, and then journey to the land of my nativity, to the New England sea-coast, around which my feelings of friendship and reverence warmly clustered, almost taking in the scenery of New England as a vital part of my filial feelings. Accordingly, as soon as the going became settled, I started on my farewell visits through the North country. Hundreds flocked together in the several towns where my appointments had been sent, to hear my farewell discourses; and unegotistically do I record the simple fact that my audiences wept as I told them my work with them was done, and that in other lands I must go and publish the same salvation in which they rejoiced. Many said, from the poor health I was in, they were satisfied they should never see me again. This was indeed a solemn time to me. I made my intended visit, and left Shipton on the 5th of June. Many of the aged saints and the warm-hearted young people came together at an early hour in the morning to bid me adieu. When ready to leave, I sung a few verses of a missionary hymn, which thus commences:
"'Farewell, my brethren in the Lord!
The Gospel sounds the Jubilee;
My stammering tongue shall sound aloud,
From land to land, from sea to sea.'
Some united in the song, others were prevented by the fulness of their emotion. At the close, we kneeled together in prayer; and it was with a heavy heart that I offered to them my parting hand. Never can I forget the kindness and friendship of this people. They contributed largely to my necessities, welcomed me to their homes, and upheld, with their prayers, my feeble hands. Returning to spend a few days at my father's house, I found on parting, the strength of the social and filial ties that bind the heart of man to its home. When, after prayer, I gave my hand to my father, he could only utter 'God bless you,' such were his emotions, and a wordless silence, accompanied by tears, was my mother's benediction. When I rode away, I felt myself dead to every earthly prospect, to every worldly enjoyment, and from the dearest friends on earth cut off. Yet there was a holy sunshine falling down upon my clouds, that gave to my sinking spirit its needful consolation. It is usually thought that the situation of a youth cut off from his friends is a trying one, especially so if called to the ministry. It is not only in parting with friends and in renouncing worldly prospects, that the spirit is tried; the life of a missionary, who is a man of God and faithful, is exposed to a thousand sufferings and dangers. Missionaries often go forth as the chosen organs of different denominations, whose denominational interests they plead, and from whom they receive a pledged support. I had aspired to be a missionary of another school, a missionary to men and not from men, having only the Gospel of the world's salvation to uphold, looking on high for the mission, and to the just and careful operations of His providence for all necessary support. For one so conditioned to consider the awful and immense responsibility he assumes before God, to think of the account he must soon render of his stewardship, is enough to humble him in the dust. Yet when, on the other hand, the faithful minister has a view of the everlasting inheritance that appears to the eye of faith, from the future compensations of His love, he can say, with the great missionary of the Gentiles, 'I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.' Perhaps this contemplation is not capable of a statement more just than that which it finds in the olden words:
"'What contradictions meet
In ministers' employ;
It is a bitter sweet,
A sorrow full of joy.
No other post affords the place
For equal honor and disgrace.'"