In his "Memorials of Methodism in Virginia," Dr. W.W. Bennet relates the following incidents in the life of John Easter, one of the pioneer ministers who labored there nearly one hundred years ago: He is represented as being the most powerful exhortatory preacher of his day. His faith was transcendent, his appeals irresistible, his prayers like talking with God face to face. Perhaps no man has ever been more signally honored of God as an instrument in the conversion of souls. On one of his circuits eighteen hundred members were added to the church in a single year.
Many thrilling scenes under his preaching yet linger among the people in those counties where he principally labored. A most extraordinary display of his faith was witnessed in Brunswick. At Merritt's meeting-house a quarterly meeting was in progress, and so vast was the concourse of people from many miles around, that the services were conducted in a beautiful grove near the church. In the midst of the exercises, a heavy cloud arose, and swept rapidly towards the place of worship. From the skirts of the grove the rain could be seen coming on across the fields. The people were in consternation; no house could hold one-third of the multitude, and they were about to scatter in all directions. Easter rose in the midst of the confusion--"Brethren," cried he at the top of his voice, "be still while I call upon God to stay the clouds, till His word can be preached to perishing sinners." Arrested by his voice and manner, they stood between hope and fear. He kneeled down and offered a fervent prayer that God would then stay the rain, that the preaching of His word might go on, and afterwards send refreshing showers. While he was praying, the angry cloud, as it swiftly rolled up to them, was seen to part asunder in the midst, pass on either side of them, and close again beyond, leaving a space several hundred yards in circumference perfectly dry. The next morning a copious rain fell again, and the fields that had been left dry were well watered."
The Hushed Tempest.
The following circumstance is communicated to The Christian by a minister of the editor's acquaintance, as a memorial of God's care for the poor and needy who trust in him:
It was about the year 1853, and near the middle of a Canadian Winter, we had a succession of snowfalls, followed by high winds and severe cold. I was getting ready to haul my Winter's stock of wood, for which I had to go two miles over a road running north and south, entirely unprotected from the keen cold west winds that prevail the most of the time in that part of Canada during the Winter months.
The procuring of my Winter's supply of wood was no small task for me, for I had very little to do with, and was unable to endure much fatigue, or bear the severe cold. I had, however, succeeded in securing the services of an excellent hand to chop, and help me load, and had also engaged a horse of one neighbor, and a horse and sled of another, and was ready on Monday morning to commence my job. Monday morning the roads were fair, the day promised well, and my man was off at daybreak to the woods to, have a load ready for me. There had been quite a fall of snow during the night; not enough to do any harm if it only lay still, but should the wind rise, as it had after every snow-fall before, it would make it dreadful for me. Soon as possible I harnessed my team, and started. I had not gone a quarter of a mile before it became painfully evident that a repetition of our previous "blows" was impending. The sky was dark and stormy, the wind rose rapidly, and in every direction clouds of the newly fallen snow were beginning to ride on the "wings of the wind," pouring over the fences, and filling the road full! My heart sank within me. What could I do? At this rate, by next morning the roads would be impassable, and it was so cold! Besides, if I failed to go on now, it would be very difficult to get my borrowed team together again, and impossible to get my man again; and we could as well live without bread as without wood in a Canadian Winter.
Every moment the wind increased. In deep distress, I looked upon the threatening elements, exclaiming over and over, "What shall I do?" I felt then that there was but one thing that I could do, and that was just what poor sinking Peter did; and with feelings I imagine something like his, I looked up to God, and cried out, "O, my God, this is more than I am able to bear. Lord, help me! The elements are subject to thee; thou boldest the winds in thy fist. If thou wilt speak the word, there will be a great calm. O, for Jesus' sake, and for the sake of my little helpless family, let this snow lie still and give me an opportunity of accomplishing this necessary labor comfortably!" I do not think it was above fifteen minutes after I began to call upon the Lord before there was a visible change. The wind began to subside, the sky grew calm, and in less than half an hour all was still, and a more pleasant time for wood-hauling than I had that day, I never saw nor desire to see. Many others beside me enjoyed the benefit of that "sudden change" of weather, but to them it was only a "nice spell of weather," a "lucky thing;" while to me it was full of sweet and encouraging tokens of the "loving-kindness of the Lord." And now, after so many years, I feel impelled to give this imperfect narrative, to encourage others in the day of trouble to call upon the Lord; and also, as a tribute of gratitude to Him who has "never said to the house of Jacob, seek ye my face in vain."
Praying In Fair Weather.
The ways in which God saves those whom he wishes to deliver from death, are sometimes too wonderful for our understanding. A certain ship was overtaken in a severe and prolonged storm at sea. She had a noble Christian man for a captain, and as good a sailor as ever trod the quarter-deck, and he had under him a good and obedient crew. But they could not save the ship; she was too badly strained, her leaks were too great for the pumps, she must go to the bottom. The captain committed them all to the care of the God in whom he put his trust, and made ready to take to their boats. Just then a sail was descried, and, by signals of distress, drawn to their relief. All on board were taken off safely and put on the ship, soon after which they saw their own ship go down.
Now comes the peculiar part. The ship was soon overtaken in a dreadful storm, was cast on her beam ends, and everything seemed to be lost. The passengers were praying, and many of the old seamen were calling on God to save them from the great deep. The captain of the ship had done his best, but could not right the vessel, and all was given up to go down. The captain, whose ship was lost, then asked if he might take his crew and try to right the vessel.