Ministers and Masters: Methodism, Manhood, and Honor in the Old South

Conclusion

136 Conclusion Christianity loves the home fireside and cheers its households with the prospect of final triumph over death and the grave; and as the father and mother look on the smiling little ones around them, while they feel that death shall dissolve the earthly ties which unite them to those loved ones, a voice from the most excellent glory bids their faith and home look up to an eternal reunion in their Father’s house above. —George Gilman Smith, The Life and Letters of James Osgood Andrew, 1883 [T]he great leaders of the Church, who, being knit together as one soul in life, were now to finish together in their sleep of death. —Horace M. Du Bose, Life of Joshua Soule, 1911 J ames o. andrew died at night while his wife, children, and grandchildren were sleeping. After his second stroke had left him partially paralyzed, the bishop knew that he would soon leave his family and friends behind. In the days before his death, he left parting messages for his earthly family and for his spiritual brethren in the Conference. He gave final instructions to the young preachers under his care and advised the other southern Methodist bishops to keep a strict discipline and to “live in peace and harmony, as they have always done.” Then, in the eerie silence of a humid March night in Mobile, Alabama, Andrew blessed all of his loved ones and told them to go to bed, kissing his young granddaughter goodnight. He died shortly thereafter. A fellow bishop visited his bedside and noticed how the dead man’s face looked younger and more at ease than it had in many years. “How beautiful is death!” he exclaimed, observing how Andrew’s countenance reflected the “dignity and goodness” of his spirit. The Methodist patriarch whose career had taken him from humble beginnings in rural Georgia, to a position of authority in the Methodist Episcopal Church, and finally to the center of 137 Conclusion a controversy that caused the division of that Church, thus died in 1871, mourned by his biological and spiritual children.1 Bishop Andrew’s death scene was hardly unique or unusual. Often, southern Methodists chose to memorialize the Church patriarchs with full accounts of their final days. These descriptions contained so much detail (including private dialogue between ministers and their family members) that their authors surely embellished many of them to add drama or to romanticize the event. Yet such accounts also revealed how leading lights of the Church wielded their authority as religious patriarchs, using their images even in death to set an example of spiritual courage and manhood. Rev. John B. McFerrin, for instance, suffered a painful death, but his biographer made sure to note that he bore the misery like a man, never questioning God’s grace and plan. During his illness, he had a private conversation with his son, who had followed his father’s example to become a traveling preacher. McFerrin encouraged him to continue in the ministry and to leave for his circuit, assuring him, “If while you are away, John, I should happen to slip off, you know where to find me.” On May 10, 1887, his biographer and friend reported, the “great commoner of Southern Methodism” died without complaint or struggle and “burst into the mystery and glory of immortality.”2 According to the church community left behind, his final moments testified to his character as a minister and the reward that he would receive in heaven. For ministers such as Andrew and McFerrin who proved the power of their leadership in life, death became their final test of manhood. Bishop Holland T. McTyeire witnessed Joshua Soule’s death in 1867 and commented that the dying minister seemed “like a ship, brave and stanch, that has weathered the storms and buffeted the waves, the voyage has ended.” He had finished his life of labor, and the “night had come when no man can work.” Soule remained a manly and honorable preacher to the last, and his friends and colleagues recognized the authority of his example even in death. Another celebrated preacher, John Wesley Childs, realized the extent of his influence in the Church and in 1850, on the verge of death, refused to take a sip of brandy or wine to ease the pain. The doctors even insisted that a drink would keep him alive for a few more hours. But Childs responded, “I am not afraid [to die]; I am...