CHAPTER 33 WILLIAM FINLEY

CHAPTER 33 WILLIAM FINLEY

William P. was the third son of the Rev. Robert W. Finley. He was born in South Carolina, in the year 1785, and emigrated with his parents to Kentucky. From childhood he was remarkably inquisitive and talkative, possessing in a high degree those social qualities which rendered him companionable, as well as nature full of wit and humor, which would gather around him all the young people of the neighborhood. He was rapid in thought and quick at repartee, yet full of benevolence and kindness. In addition to his genial nature and humorous disposition, he possessed a remarkable aptitude for learning. While at school studying Latin, Greek, Mathematics, and other branches of learning, he seemed to get his lessons almost by intuition. While others of his class would labor and grow weary over a hard sentence, or a difficult proposition, with him it seemed that it was only to look and receive. He always led his class, being perfect in all his recitations. What he received so readily he was disposed as lavishingly to bestow upon others; and hence, when other young men, during the winter seasons, would be out hunting and sporting, he would gather together a group of the neighbors’ children in some lonesome log school-house, and there impart to them the rudiments of an education. Thus he spent his years till he arrived at manhood, when he married a most estimable woman, with whom he lived most happily till the day of his death.

Nothing very remarkable occurred in his history, till the year 1808, when, with his wife, on their way to a Christmas frolic, he stopped at the house of the writer of this sketch and heard a recital of his conversion, connected with an earnest exhortation and appeal, which awakened both to a sense of their lost condition; and instead of going to join in the scenes of mirth and revelry, they remained to weep and pray. They returned home and commenced seeking the Lord with penitential hearts, and God heard their prayer. One night, in the deep solitude of the forest, while William was prostrate on the ground crying for mercy, the blessing of pardon and salvation came to his soul with such power, that his soul was set at perfect liberty, and the peace of heaven flowed into his heart like a river. His conversion wrought the most wonderful change, not only in his habits of life, but in his disposition. He seemed to have lost all that conviviality of mind and flow of spirits which so strongly characterized him, and became one of the most sedate and sober men we ever knew. Great trials awaited him. He was constantly impressed with the conviction that God had called him to preach the Gospel, and he was strongly impressed with the belief that if he did not yield to the call he must perish, notwithstanding all the Lord had done for his soul. Such were the deep, agonizing struggles of his soul, that his mind gave evidence to all of the storm within. Thus he continued almost distracted, till the Church of God, which is the best judge of Heaven’s designs in this respect, saw that the burden of the Lord was upon him, and, accordingly, he was called out and duly authorized to preach the Gospel of salvation to perishing sinners.

How mysterious are the ways of Providence! The father of William, burning with a missionary zeal, left his home and friends for the then distant Carolinas and Georgia, and the far-off cane-brakes of Kentucky; and when disposed to settle, having purchased a large tract of land, was turned out of house and home by land pirates, and driven out in the wilds of the North-western territory. Here he made another purchase of land, which was taken from him; and still another, but his plans were all frustrated, and he kept wandering. God at length converts his three sons, and sends them out into the waste places, to follow the fortunes of their father in calling sinners to repentance.

William having proved himself in the local ranks, entered the itinerancy at the conference held in Cincinnati, in 1814. His first appointment was Paint Creek circuit, which he was to travel alone. It was a four weeks’ circuit, but he labored with zeal and fidelity; and at the expiration of the year he reported an accession of one hundred precious souls. His next appointment was Brush Creek circuit, where he labored with the same untiring zeal in proclaiming salvation to the lost. The succeeding years he traveled Miami, Scioto, and Paint Creek circuits. His last appointment was Strait Creek circuit, in the year 1820. He was obliged to take a location at the close of this year, from the following lamentable circumstances. On returning to his circuit from a visit to his family, his horse became frightened and threw him, his head striking violently against the bridge which he was crossing, fracturing his skull just above the left ear. This wound was of such a nature as to disqualify him from preaching. He suffered much from pain in the head, and was admonished that his work as an itinerant was done. Judging that he had not been sufficiently long in the itinerancy to entitle him to a superannuated relation, he chose to locate, and, with his wife and helpless children, trust to Providence.

He bore his painful affliction for more than a year, and he continued to grow worse and worse, till at length his mind gave way, and he became at times a raving maniac. He was not disposed to do any harm. In his ravings he would pray, and sing, and preach, as if still in his beloved employ of winning souls to Christ; and many who heard the deep pathos of his soul, as it sent out its pathetic wail like the strings of a broken harp, were melted to tears. At other times his mania would assume a different form, and it was almost impossible to control him. After suffering thus for seventeen months, his physician finally concluded to trepan him as the only hope of giving him relief. When it was communicated to him, and the doctor told him he must consent to be bound, he firmly replied, "No; I can stand any thing,’’ and laying himself down, without moving a limb or a muscle, he endured the operation. The moment the pressure was removed from the brain his mind at once resumed its healthy functions, and he commenced praising God for his deliverance. he lived in the full, bright, unclouded exercise of all his faculties for about three weeks after the operation was performed, and in the full, glorious triumphs of faith he went to that world where no derangement of human organization could obstruct the soul in its glorious exercise. The pulpit exercises of William were of the tender and pathetic kind. None ever heard him preach that he did not, with his sympathetic Master, weep over his congregation, and beseech the sinner in tenderest strains to be reconciled to God, not ceasing till all were melted into tears. How often have we thought of the saying of the classic orator, in regard to the secret of producing feeling in the hearts of an audience:

"If you would have me, weep, begin the strain; Then I shall feel your sorrows, feel your pain!" By many he was called Jeremiah, or the weeping prophet. He was not a Boanerges, but a son of consolation; and though there was nothing very brilliant or showy in his talents as a preacher, yet he was enabled, through the Spirit, to find way to the hearts of saints and sinners. Christ and Him crucified was the theme that melted his heart and flowed from his tongue. His devoted wife is still coasting the Jordan, waiting to cross over. The most of his children have already gone to join their sainted father in the better land. We stood by the dying bed of one of his lovely daughters, and never did saints or angels witness a more happy and triumphant death. In her last moments she said, "Dear mother, weep not for me. Angels are waiting to take me to Jesus and my home in heaven; there I shall see my dear father, and brothers, and sisters, and there I shall wait your arrival."

Sweetest music filled our ears as she plumed her wings and flew from time’s retiring shores to that bright world above. O, what a happy death! While we write it seems as if our precious kindred are hovering around our soul swells with glory as we contemplate the hour, not far distant, when we shall hail them on that sun-bright shore.