CHAPTER 22 JOHN COLLINS

CHAPTER 22 JOHN COLLINS

We have been importuned by several of our brethren to give a sketch of this eminent servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, embracing such incidents connected with his life, and such personal reminiscences as may serve, in conjunction with the biography already written, to preserve a memory of the man. The reader must allow us our own free and easy way of describing the life, labors, and character of this pioneer preacher. Our first acquaintance with him was the result of an accident, and one which frequently happened to the pioneers of early times in the western country. It came to pass that soon after he had settled on the East Fork of the Little Miami, and had built a cabin, and was making preparations for farming, his horses strayed away, one of which, after traveling a distance of thirty miles through the wilderness, in a northerly direction, came to our cabin. Knowing it to be an astray, we availed ourself of all the facilities the country then afforded of giving it an extensive publication, which was done by telling all our neighbor’s, and requesting them to tell all their neighbors and every body they saw, that we had in our possession an astray horse, with such and such marks about him, which the owner could have by proving property. Not many days after a stranger rode up to our door, and asked us if we had an astray horse in our possession. We told him we had, and invited him to alight, hitch his horse, and walk in. Thanking us very politely, he did so; and, from the description he gave of the horse, we were satisfied it was his property. We were at once struck with the blandness of his manners and his pleasant address.

He did not seem to have the roughness of the pioneer farmer about him, and we never would have supposed him engaged in such an occupation. He entered into a very agreeable and pleasant conversation about the country, the habits of the people, and other matters of interest. For the short acquaintance, we never met with any individual in all our eventful life who was more prepossessing in his manners. After having partaken of the humble fare of our cabin, he made some inquiries in regard to the religious privileges of the neighborhood; and, finding that there were no meetings held in that section, he expressed regret, and exhorted most affectionately, with tears, ourself and wife to seek God in the pardon of our sins, and embrace the Savior. When he concluded, he said: "I will preach in Hillsboro on such a Sabbath; will you not come to meeting?" We promised to do so. He then said, "My dear friend, if it will be perfectly agreeable to you, I should like to pray with you before leaving." "Certainly," said we, and the man of God kneeled down, and with a fervency and tenderness which broke up the great deep of our heart, he poured out his soul to God in our behalf. His prayer was such as only John Collins could make. Our heart was strangely and wonderfully drawn toward him, and we were won by his sweetness and gentleness. From that hour we loved him, and it continued unabated through a long ministerial life. We love him still in that heavenly world, where, by God’s grace, we hope erelong to meet him, and enjoy his society forever. He left us with many a benediction upon his lips; and when the period arrived for him to preach at Hillsboro we were there, and for the first time heard him preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ to weeping multitudes gathered from all parts of the country. He had removed into the neighborhood where he then resided in the year 1803, and having received license to preach as a local preacher in New Jersey, he improved his gifts in traveling all round the country, as opportunity presented itself preaching the Gospel of the kingdom. It was during the time he sustained a local relation to the Church that he preached the first Methodist sermon ever preached in Cincinnati — as the reader has already seen in our sketch of the rise and progress of Methodism in this city. Not only in Cincinnati, but in many other places was he the pioneer of Methodism. At Columbia, six miles above Cincinnati proper, he organized a class; and while he would labor with his hands during the week, he would start out on Saturday afternoon to some appointment, where he preached on the Sabbath; and the day of eternity only will disclose the amount of good accomplished through his instrumentality in bringing sinners from darkness to light, and building up the saints on the sure foundation of their faith.

After laboring on his farm for four years, during which time he had planted the Gospel in many settlements in the Miami Valley, and being prospered by Providence, he found himself in a condition, temporally considered, which enabled him to take a wider field of labor. He was admitted into the traveling connection in the year 1807. His first appointment was the Miami circuit, which, at that period, embraced nearly all the section of country now included in the Cincinnati conference. Here was a field of labor that might have made a soul of less courage quail; but he never hesitated at hardships and danger, and taking leave of his faithful, affectionate wife and little children, with the sword of the Spirit, relying upon the strength of Israel’s God, he went forth in his name and power to do the work of an evangelist, and make full proof of his ministry. Encouraged by, the promise, "Lo, I am with you, even unto the end of the world," his glad and courageous heart could sing, On these mountains let me labor, In these valleys let me tell.

How he died, the blessed Savior, To redeem lost souls from hell. Nor did the faithful herald labor in vain; hundreds heard the glad sound of salvation from his lips, and were converted to God through his instrumentality. His next appointment was scarcely less extensive. Starting from Snow Hill, in Clinton county, he traveled through Highland and Ross counties, including all the settlements of Paint creek and the Scioto river, down to the mouth, thence down the Ohio to the mouth of Eagle creek, including all the settlements on Sun fish, Scioto Brush creek, Ohio Brush creek, including West Union and Manchester; thence across, by the Cherry Fork, to the place of beginning. This year he achieved much for our Zion in the wilderness, and multitudes were born into the kingdom of God. Methodist preachers in those days were no sinecures. They sought not ease, honor, or popularity; and as for wealth, that was entirely out of the question. Their hire was souls, and the hope of an eternal reward impelled them onward in the great work in which they were engaged. The next two years Collins traveled Deer Creek circuit, which included the town of Chilicothe and all the settlements west of Lancaster and on the Darbys. On this circuit lived an old veteran Methodist named White Brown, who immigrated to this western country in an early day, and was denominated by the Rev. J. Quinn the patriarch of the Scioto Valley. He opened his house for the itinerant, and his wide, generous heart, as large as a continent, embraced the entire Church and all her interests. His house was the constant home of Bishop Asbury, in his annual visits, and on his farm was the great campmeeting ground, more famous in those days than all other places of a similar character, on account of the wonderful outpourings of God’s Spirit upon the listening thousands that would annually congregate in its peaceful groves. White Brown and his camp-ground were known throughout the entire Methodist connection, and a narration of many of the scenes which had occurred at this consecrated spot had been communicated to other lands. Father Brown and his devoted companion have long since gone to mingle with the sainted Whatcoat, Asbury, George, McKendree, and others, in that bright world, "Where congregations ne’er break up, And Sabbaths never end." The labors of Collins on this circuit were attended with unexampled prosperity. The Gospel river widened and deepened in its onward flow, and thousands stood upon its banks rejoicing in its fullness. He attended campmeetings far and near, and he was what might be called emphatically a campmeeting man. No preacher had the power of rousing the masses, and holding them by his eloquence and power, to so great an extent as the meek and sainted Collins. Often have we heard him relate the story of the lost child, describing with inimitable tenderness the feelings of the mother, whom he tried to comfort, but who, like Rachel, "would not be comforted, because her child was not;" and then, when the child was found, with the utmost pathos would he relate the joyous emotions of the mother. No tragedian ever succeeded better in transferring the feelings of a character to his audience in his impersonations, than did the inimitable Collins. So far was he from falling under the charge made by a tragedian to a minister of the Gospel of representing fact as if it were fiction, that he became the living embodiment of his theme, and with a soul on fire he poured out the living truth till every heart was moved.

Often have we seen thousands borne down by his impassioned eloquence like the trees of the forest in a storm. And it was irresistible. Steel your heart as you might; summon all your philosophy and stoicism; and nerve up your soul to an iron insensibility and endurance, surrounding it with a rampart of the strongest prejudices, the lightning of his eloquence, accompanied by the deep-toned, awfully-sublinic thunder of his words, which came burning from his soul, would melt down your hardness, and break away every fortification in which you were entrenched, while tears from the deep, unsealed fountains of your soul would come unbidden, like the rain. The only way to escape his power was to flee from his presence and hearing; for a Boanerges as well as a son of consolation was he. Perhaps no man ever combined the two elements here alluded to power and pathos more than Collins. But no pen is fully adequate to describe the man, and we doubt if any mind is competent to give an analysis of his character, as in it were blended strange contrasts and peculiarities, which rendered it altogether unique if not entirely ’sui generis’.

Though apparently a compound of tenderness and sympathy, there were times when he would be severe, and use the rod. As an illustration of this we will relate an incident which occurred in the year 1809, at a campmeeting on the Scioto bottom, at Foster’s. We have abundant reason for recollecting well the time, place, and circumstances. The Rev. Thomas S. Hinde and ourself, both young preachers, and boiling over with a zeal for the cause of God, impatient to see the work go on and carry every thing before it, concluded to take the matter pretty much into our own hands. Accordingly, we went out into the woods, a short distance from the encampment, and commenced singing, for the purpose of collecting the sinners around us, whom we intended to take by a storm of exhortation. It was not long till a large crowd was collected, and many left their tents to see what was the disturbance in the woods. The wicked feeling that they were not under the restraints that they would be were they on the encampment, listening to exhortation and prayer, as might have been expected, became noisy, and interrupted us exceedingly. We had raised a storm sure enough, but how to guide it was what had not entered into our calculations. There was no telling what would have been the result, as there were demons there in the form of men ready for every vile thing. Just at this juncture intelligence of this state of things reached the ears of brother Collins, and he ordered us forthwith to the preachers’ tent, where he gave us such a trimming for our disorderly proceedings as boys do not get every day. This was a chastisement which, though severe, did not break our bones, and proved of great service to us in after life. At this meeting great opposition was manifested by the wicked; but, notwithstanding, though it seemed all the saints of darkness had gathered there from the knobs, the Sun-fish hills, and the Dividing Ridge, yet many were converted to God; and of this happy number many were young people. After the meeting ended, a party who were opposed to the revival, and were offended at the loss of their young companions who had embraced religion, got up a dance. A young man by the name of J. Fraley was the leader. The time at length came, and youth and pleasure met to chase the hours with glowing feet. But hark! in the midst of the revelry a cry! Some one has fallen in the dance, and he cries aloud, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" It is Fraley, the leader. Consternation is spread over every face; terror fills every mind! Others join the cry, and then and there was hurrying in every direction from the scene of that gathered throng. Brother John Foster, a local preacher, was sent for, and the sound of mirth and revelry gave place to the sound of prayer, while the loud laugh was exchanged to louder cries for mercy. Then began a glorious work of God, and many in that ball-room were converted, and filled with greater joy than ever earthly pleasure could give. A joy and peace filled their souls, "Which nothing earthy gives, or can destroy; The souls calm, sunshine, and the heart-felt joy."

Young Fraley, when converted, gathered all that would go with him, and marched round from house to house, singing, shouting, and praying. We were then on the circuit, and witnessed the fruits of this glorious revival.

We will relate an incident connected with another campmeeting which we attended, in company with brother Collins. This campmeeting was held the same year of the one alluded to above. It was on Eagle creek. A large concourse of people had collected together from all parts of the country. The hour for preaching had arrived, and after the congregation was collected by the blast of a trumpet, brother Collins arose and gave out a hymn. From the manner of his reading it all could tell that his heart was filled with emotions too big for utterance. It was sung as only the Methodists in early times could sing at campmeetings. It seemed as if the soul of the entire encampment was in the sound, and went up to heaven as an offering of praise. When the last strains died away upon the solitudes of the surrounding forest, the man of God fell upon his knees, and poured out his full heart to the God of heaven. An awful stillness reigned, interrupted only by an occasional sob or a suppressed amen. Presently the Holy Spirit was poured out, and like a rushing, mighty wind it came down upon the encampment. Five hundred fell prostrate to the ground, either screaming for mercy or shouting the high praises of God. The preacher’s voice was lost, and God was all in all.

There was something in the person of Collins that would at once impress any beholder with the character of the man. He was above the medium height of slender form. His head was somewhat massy in its proportions; one would think rather too much so for his slender frame, as it generally was inclined upon his shoulder. His eyes were small, but keen and penetrating, though deeply sunken in his forehead beneath heavy, overhanging brows. His cast of countenance was Grecian. His motions were generally quick, but graceful, especially in the pulpit; and to see him walk along the street with his silver-headed cane, which he usually carried in his older days, you would at once be impressed with the dignity and refinement of his manners. It seemed that the God of nature and grace had made him for the great work to which he was called. His voice was the most musical and penetrating we ever heard, and, as we have already indicated, his manner was peculiar to himself. To those who were familiar with him there were certain movements about him which would indicate the state of his mind, just as coming events in nature cast their shadows before. When you would see his lips compress, and he would throw his head aside, slightly elevating, with a sort of shrug, his right shoulder, and the tear would start from his eye like the rain-drop which falls from the heat of the cloud, then you might know that the Spirit of the Lord was upon him, and might expect with certainty to witness displays of Divine power. In the year 1811 he was appointed to Union circuit without a colleague. This circuit included the towns of Dayton, Xenia, and Lebanon. At the latter place he was instrumental, in the hands of God, in accomplishing a great work. His preaching was attended with the demonstration of the Spirit and power, and a great and glorious revival attended his labors, which resulted in numerous and permanent accessions to our beloved Zion. It was the same year which we traveled Knox circuit; and well do we recollect the cheering intelligence which came to our ears of the wonderful work of God in that town. During this revival John McLean, Esq., now one of the Chief Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States, and his brother, Colonel McLean, became the subjects of converting grace, and joined the Church, with many others, who became distinguished and influential members of the Church, some of whom still live as the fruits of his ministry. Great good was effected through his instrumentality, also, in the town of Xenia; and in Dayton, if he did not preach the first Methodist sermon, as in Cincinnati, he formed the first class, and organized a society, which long ago was divided into bands, there being two large and flourishing societies, occupying spacious brick churches in different parts of the city, besides an enterprising German Methodist Church. He obtained a lot of ground in the very heart of the city from Mr. Cooper, the proprietor of the town, and, with the assistance of the sainted George Houston and others, he built thereon a house of worship. In the year 1812 he traveled the Mad River and Xenia circuit. Being a delegate to the General conference, on his way he passed through Fairfield circuit, where we then labored, and stopped over Sabbath at the house of brother Thomas J. Ijams. That was a memorable Sabbath, and the scenes and associations connected with it will never be erased from our recollection, as we hope to carry with us a remembrance of them, and many other happy scenes and seasons which we have witnessed, to the heavenly world. Such remembrances will, doubtless, augment the happiness of heaven. It was a day of spiritual "feasting, of fat things, full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined." The congregation was large, and as the notice was extensively circulated, multitudes came from a distance to hear the wonderful preacher.

We don’t know — perhaps it was the occasion and circumstances that made Methodist preachers great in those days; but one thing is certain, the arrival of Collins in a neighborhood would excite a hundred-fold greater interest then than the arrival of any of our presiding elders or great men, or even bishops, can produce at the present day. Upon the ears of that immense and deeply interested congregation this flaming herald of the cross poured the full strains of the Gospel, and before he had finished his discourse, his voice, clear, shrill, and powerful as it was, was drowned, in the louder, clearer, shriller cries for mercy, which rent the heavens, mingled with the loftiest shouts of praise. No man was ever more thoroughly stored with incident than was brother Collins. He possessed the faculty, in an eminent degree, of weaving into his discourses the everyday incidents of life, and of applying them with the most admirable judgment to his hearers. He was a profound student of human nature; and possessing the keenest perceptive faculties, united with his knowledge of the secret springs of the human heart, he was enabled to discriminate so nicely that every sinner felt under his preaching as David under the pointed personal reproof of the prophet Nathan.

Some time in the year 1833, when he was traveling New Richmond circuit, in the bounds of which he lived, he attended a campmeeting near Batavia. It having fallen to our lot, on one occasion, to preach, and there being a large concourse on the ground, an incident occurred which we will relate, as it was quite singular, and we never heard of a similar one before nor since. The Lord assisted us, and we had great liberty in striving to preach Christ and offer his salvation to our dying fellow-men. We had progressed about two thirds of the way through the discourse. It was a melting, moving time, a mighty troubling of the waters, and the excitement seemed to be increasing every moment. Right in the midst of our appeals father Collins arose in the stand behind us, and touching us on the shoulder, he said, "Now, brother, stop; keep the rest for another time, and throw out the Gospel net; it is now wet, and we shall have a good haul." We obeyed the directions, and sounded the invitation:

"Come all the world; come sinner, thou, All things in Christ are ready now."

Every sinner on the ground was moved; the old and hardened trembled like aspen leaves stirred by the breeze; every eye was suffused with tears. Presently there was a move near the outskirts of the congregation. There came a mother leading a prodigal son, and falling in on each side of her way, by the hundreds, as she advanced to the altar, the multitude came. It was a time of unusual power, and the work of God, from that moment, went on gloriously.

Two years before he closed his effective labors in the itinerant field we had the pleasure of being his colleague in Cincinnati, and to us it was a season of great interest and profit. Here we lived and labored lovingly together, threading the streets and alleys of this great city in quest of the flock of Jesus, visiting the sick, attending the dying, burying the dead, and preaching Jesus and the resurrection. But he is gone. Father Collins is no more. The toils and hardships of an itinerant life are ended.

"He sleeps his last sleep; he has fought his last battle, And no sound shall awake him to labor again."