On Saturday, September 15, the first “Quarterly” meeting was held, in Mr. Parrot’s barn, 1st Con., Ernesttown, to which many of the settlers came from the six townships. Darius Dunham was a Physician by profession. “He was a man of strong mind, zealous, firm in his opinions.” “He labored well on the Cataraqui Circuit, and was in high repute by the people.”—(Playter.)
Many anecdotes are told of Dunham. On account of his quick and blunt way of speaking and rebuking evil doings, he acquired the name of “Scolding Dunham.” Withal, he was witty, and he loved, it would seem, next to Godliness, cleanliness, so he would, if at a house, where it were not observed, according to his idea (and as there was only the one room, he could see the whole process of preparing for the table,) he would tell the housewife that the next time he came he would “bring a dish-cloth along,” or perhaps, he would bluntly tell the woman to “clean up.” Carroll relates the following story, yet often told and laughed at by the old settlers of the Bay. “His reply to the newly appointed magistrate’s bantering remarks, is widely reported. A new-made ‘Squire’ rallied Dunham before some company, about riding so fine a horse, and told him he was very unlike his humble Master, who was content to ride an ass. The preacher responded with his usual imperturbable gravity, and in his usual heavy and measured tones, that he agreed with him perfectly, and that he would most assuredly imitate his Master in that particular, but for the difficulty of finding the animal required—the Government having made up all the asses into magistrates.” A person of the author’s acquaintance, informed him that he saw an infidel, who was a fallen Lutheran clergyman, endeavoring, one night while Dunham was preaching, to turn the whole into ridicule. The preacher affected not to notice him, but went on exalting the excellency of Christianity, and showing the formidable opposition it had confronted and overcome; when, all at once, he turned to where the scoffer sat, and fixing his eyes upon him, the old gentleman continued: “Shall Christianity and her votaries, after having passed through fire and water,” &c.—“after all this, I say, shall the servants of God, at this time of day, allow themselves to be frightened by the braying of an ass.” In those days it was believed, by some at least, that unclean spirits and devils might be cast out by the power of God through the faithful Christian, and Dunham had the credit of having, on several occasions, cast out devils.
Mr. Losee remained a preacher only two years, when he became mentally unfit, having encountered a disappointment of a crushing nature. The uncertainty of the cause of his discontinuing to preach, has been dispelled by Playter, in the most touching language, “He was the subject of that soft, yet powerful passion of our nature, which some account our weakness, and others our greatest happiness. Piety and beauty were seen connected in female form then as well as now, in this land of woods and water, snows and burning heat. In the family of one of his hearers, and in the vicinity of Napanee river, was a maid, of no little moral and personal attraction. Soon his (Losee’s) attention was attracted; soon the seed of love was planted in his bosom, and soon it germinated and bore outward fruit. In the interim of suspense, as to whether he should gain the person, another preacher came on the circuit, visits the same dwelling, is attracted by the same fair object, and finds in his heart the same passion. The two seek the same person. One is absent on the St. Lawrence; the other frequents the blest habitation, never out of mind. One, too, is deformed, the other a person of desirable appearance. Jealousy crept in with love. But, at last, the preference was made, and disappointment, like a thunderbolt, overset the mental balance of the first itinerant minister in Canada.” He subsequently removed to New York, where he continued to live for many years, and recovered his mental health. He had purchased lots in Kingston, which he returned to sell in 1816; at this time he was perfectly sound in mind, and was a good man. He visited Adolphustown, and other places, preaching here and there, and finally returned to New York.
Mr. Dunham proved a useful man, especially among the settlers of Marysburgh. He ultimately in the year 1800, retired from the ministry and settled near Napanee, having married into the Detlor family. But he continued to act as a local preacher.
The early preachers often traveled from place to place on horseback after a bridle-path had been made, with saddle-bags, containing oats in one part, and a few articles of wearing apparel in another, perhaps a religious book; thus the zealous preacher would travel mile after mile through interminable forests. Indeed there are plenty to-day who have done likewise.
There is one fact connected with the early Methodist preachers, which requires a passing notice.
The settlers were all intensely loyal; yet when the Yankee Methodist preacher came in their midst he was gladly received; it is true Losee the first who came was a loyalist; but many who followed were Americans and republicans. Although the Lutheran, Presbyterian, and English churchmen had preceded the Methodists into Canada, neither seemed to obtain that hold upon the hearts of the plain U. E. Loyalists, that the Methodists did. The people of every denomination as well as those belonging to none, flocked to hear them, and many stayed to become followers. These Americans were always regarded with suspicion by government, and serious doubts were entertained whether those who became Methodists were loyal. But the war of 1812, exhibited in a thrilling manner the old fire of attachment to their sovereign the King. There seemed to be an adaptability between the Methodist mode of worship and the plain old settlers, and for years there were many who left the church of their fathers, and joined the more demonstrative society of Wesleyans. Not only was this mode of ordinary worship followed by the Methodist congenial, but especially the camp meeting engaged their hearty attention. This mode of worshipping in the woods was first known in Kentucky in 1801, and was initiated by two brothers named McGee, one of whom was a Methodist, the other a Presbyterian. There are many who regard the holding of camp-meetings as very questionable, even in the past. Whatever may be said about the necessity of such meetings at the present day, they were it is thought, highly appropriate in the infant days of the country. At the first, and for many long years, there were but few churches of any size. Then, the inhabitants had been buried as it were in the primeval forests, left to meditate in its deep recesses, far away from the busy haunts of men. No doubt the solemn repose, and silent grandeur awoke in their minds feelings of awe, and of veneration, just the same as one will feel when gazing along the naves of some old grand cathedral, with its representations of trees and flowers. It is not difficult to understand that the mind, trained by habit to meditation in the woods, with its waving boughs telling of other times, and of a mysterious future, would naturally find worshipping in the woods, congenial to the soul,—find it a fit place for the higher contemplation and worship of the great God. The first camp-meeting held in Canada was in 1805, on the south shore of Hay Bay, near the chapel. The meeting was attended by some from the distant townships, who went down in batteaux. This was a great event to the settlers. Its announcement, says Dr. Bangs, “beforehand excited great interest far and near. Whole families prepared for a pilgrimage to the ground, processions of waggons, and foot passengers wended along the highways.” The ministers present were Case, Ryan, Pickett, Keeler, Madden and Bangs. The meeting commenced on the 27th of September; the whole was characterized by deep religious feeling as well as decided demonstration, and the joy and comfort of believing, which ought always to be present with the Christian, was generally experienced, while there was an absence of that outside exhibition, too often seen in later years, around the camps. We quote from Carroll respecting the ending of this meeting. The account is from Dr. Bangs, “The time was at hand at last for the conclusion of the meeting. The last night was the most awfully impressive and yet most delightful scene my eyes ever beheld. There was not a cloud in the sky. The stars studded the firmament, and the glory of God filled the camp. All the neighbouring forest seemed vocal with the echo of hymns. Turn our attention which way we would, we heard the voice of prayer and praise. I will not attempt to describe the parting scene, for it was indescribable. The preachers, about to disperse to their distant fields of labor, hung upon each other’s necks, weeping and yet rejoicing. Christians from remote settlements, who had here formed holy friendships, which they expected would survive in heaven, parted probably to meet no more on earth. As the hosts marched off in different directions the songs of victory rolled along the highways.”
Apropos of Methodist camp-meetings, Carroll tells an anecdote characteristic of the times, and as well of the honest Dutch. One of these old settlers was speaking of a recent camp-meeting from which he had just come said, “It was a poor, tet tull time, and no goot was tone, till tat pig Petty (the Rev. Elias Pattie) come; but mit his pig fist, he did kill te tuval so tet as a nit, and ten te work proke out.” The Methodists of that day were fond of the demonstrative.
In the year 1806, a native of Prince Edward district entered the Methodist ministry. He was the first native Canadian preacher of any denomination, his name was Andrew Pringle.
The same year Thomas Whitehead was sent by the New York Conference. He was six weeks on the road through the woods with his wife and six children, “and during most of the time they subsisted on boiled wheat.”