Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Two of the First Baptist Preachers in the State of Georgia Although the State of Georgia was not the prin cipal theatre of Rev. Edmund Botsibrd’s labors, he was one of the very first Baptist ministers that sowed good seeds within its borders. He was born in England in 1745, and after passing through va rious vicissitudes of life, he was baptized in 177 G and became a Baptist minister in Charleston. After he was licensed to preach he entered upon a course of study under his pastor, Rev. Mr. Hart, for the ministry. Having enumerated many of God’s mer cies and several interesting scenes through which he had passed, he adds: “So I have been groom, foot man, painter, carpenter and soldier; and had now commenced preacher.” He continued with Mr. Hart till the following June. Leaving Charleston he went westward and located near Tuckaseeking, a settlement about forty miles north of Savannah, Georgia, where he found a few zealous Baptists and commenced preaching to them. At that time there was not a Baptist church in the state, and only one regularly ordained Baptist min ister. He did not confine himself to Tuckaseek ing, but preached extensively in many contiguous regions, both in Georgia and South Carolina. The manner in which he commenced his labors at Ebenezer, a large settlement of Dutch Lutherans, was sufficiently amusing. It is thus related by Mr. Botsford: “At the lower part of this settlement was a Dutch church, which was only oceasioanlly occupied by the Lutherans, and was convenient to a few Baptists and others. I was asked, if I had any objections to preaching in it, if leave could be obtained. I By no means.’ Application was made to the minister, a Mr. Robinhurst (as the name was pronounced), and he released the applicant to the deacon. The deacon’s reply was: ‘No, no; tese Baptists are a very pad people; they begin shlow at forst—py and py all men follow dem. No, no, go to the minister, Mr. R., if he says, breach, den I kiss you de keys.’ The minister says, ‘I have no objection, and leaves it with you.’ ‘Den take de keys; I will come and hear myself.’ The house was opened, and I preached the first time-on October 1, 1771, from Matt. 9:13. When I had preached, the old deacon said: ‘Dat peen pad poy, put he breach Jesus Christ, he come again and welcome.’ ” This old gentleman finally decided to leave this Tuckaseeking, and return to Charleston, where he remained for a number of years. Soon after his ordination, which was in March, he commenced bap tizing and by the middle of the following November he had immersed forty-five. To show what an active life he led, during the month of August one year he rode six hundred and fifty miles, preached forty-two serm/ons, baptized twenty-one subjects and administered the Lord’s Supper twice. He traveled so much, whilst in the active discharge of his ministerial duties, he was known all over Geor gia and South Carolina, as “The Flying Preacher.” His time was thus occupied for several years, till in the spring of 1779, he was compelled to make a precipitate flight from his home and the state, on account of the horrors of the revolutionary war. He and his family departed in such haste that they had only time to take off with them two horses and a cart, containing a single bed, one blanket and a sheet. Thus, after having carried the gospel into many benighted neighborhoods, sown much precious seed, baptized one hundred and forty-eight persons, reared up a flourishing church, and prepared mate rials for future churches, so that he might be justly regarded (if we except the indefatigable Marshall) as the principal founder of the Baptist interest in Georgia, Mr. Botsford hurries from the province, an unprotected fugitive, no more to find a permanent abode in the region of his early labors. During the remainder of the revolution, he had no very permanent abode—was a part of the time chaplain in the American army—the balance of it, in South and North Carolina, and in Virginia. Daniel Marshall. This good man was born in 1706 in Connecticut. At the age of twenty, he joined the Presbyterian church of his native place. The natural ardor of his mind soon kindled into the fire of a holy zeal, By DR. R. J. MASSEY. The Golden Age for October 4, 1906. which raised him so high in the estimation of his brethren, that they called him to the office of a deacon. In the exemplary discharge of his duty, in this capacity, he continued near twenty years. He was in easy circumstances of life. During this period, he married his first wife, who soon died, leaving one son. At thirty-eight years of age, he heard that son of thunder, Rev. George Whitfield. With many other worthy people in New England, he became firmly fixed in the belief that “the lat ter day glory’’ was just at hand, and that it was his duty to do all he could to hasten it on. Some sold, gave away, or left their possessions as the powerful impulse of the moment determined, and without scrip or purse, rushed up to the head of the Susquehanna to convert the heathen. Daniel Mar shall was among those who became missionaries to the Mohawk Indians. He served as missionary among the Indians for eighteen months, doing much good. War among the Indians caused him to remove back to the white settlements. He came to Winchester, Virginia, and in the forty-eighth year of his age, he and his wife were immersed into the Baptist faith. He was at once licensed to preach, and felt impelled to plunge still deeper into the moral wilderness before him. Spending some time in North and South Carolina, he came to Horse Creek, about fifteen miles north of Augusta. From this place, he made his first visit to Georgia, and preached most generally in private houses. About his second or third visit, he had a meeting in the woods, under a grove. While engaged in pray" er, in the opening of the service, he was arrested by Constable Cartlidge (afterwards a physician and baptized by Mr. Marshall, and who continued stead fast in the faith till his death in about 1825), and security for his appearance at court was given by Hugh Middleton, who resided just across the Savan nah on the South Carolina side. Mrs. Marshall, who was present, quoted several texts of scripture with so much force as to confound the opposers and convict several persons. The Monday following, Mr. Marshall and his security went to Augusta and stood his trial before Col. Barnard (or Barnet) and Parson Ellington, of the Church of England. The latter seemed rather to take the place of the magistrate, and began the trial by commanding the prisoner to read a chapter in the Bible. This done, he abused him considera bly, and ordered him to desist from preaching in the province. In the words of the apostle, when sim ilarly circumstanced, he replied, “Whether it be right to obey God rather than men, judge ye.” Col. Barnard, the magistrate, was afterwards hopefully converted, and though deterred by the op position of his wife from being baptized, was a zeal ous Christian, and used to exhort his neighbors to flee from the wrath to come. Thus it appears that it was not without stern op position that Baptist sentiments were introduced into Georgia; that it was at the cost of much toil, and sacrifice, and insult, that our fathers purchased for us the religious privileges which we now so richly enjoy. Mr. Marshall permanently located at Kiokee, and was famous for having furnished materials for sev eral other churches, and probably under his preach ing, more eminent ministers of the gospel were fur nished to the Baptist Church than that of any other man. Here he died in 1784. He was buried near the church. Afterward, the church was re moved several miles away, where a brick edifice was built. This church is in prosperous condition, even to this day. After the removal of the church, the town of Appling, county seat of Columbia, was located here. For many years Mr. Marshall’s grave was tenderly cared for. Every little child in the neighborhood was glad to show it to visitors. At least twice a year or oftener, the good ladies of the place had it carefully cleaned off and decorated with flowers. This, in all probability, is the first instance of decorating a grave with flowers in the state of Georgia. The Lift of the Heart. ELIZABETH KEMPER ADAMS. When we stand with the woods around us And the great boughs overhead; When the wind blows cool on our foreheads, And the breath of the pines is shed; When the song of the thrush is ringing— Wonderful, rich, apart— Between the sound and the silence Comes a sudden lift of the heart. When we gaze from a wintry summit Over mountain tops aglow In the clear cold light of the sunset, And on pools of dusk below; When the frozen woods are so silent That a dead leaf makes us start— Between the flush and the fading Comes a sudden lift of the heart. When we seek with the clearer vision That Grief the Revealer brings For the threads that are shot together In the close-wrought Web of Things; And find that Pain is woven Into Love and Joy and Art— Between the search and the solace Comes a sudden lift of the heart. And when life’s farthing candle Gutters and flares and sinks; When the eye no longer wanders, And the brain no longer thinks; When only the hand plucks idly At the sheet till the spirit part— Does there come between living and dying A sudden lift of the heart? —The Atlantic Monthly. The Polite Usher’s Advice. A Brooklyn young man took his best girl to church, and as he reached a partially filled pew he turned to the usher and asked: “Do you suppose we could squeeze in here?” “You might be able to,” replied the usher, po litely, “but I would advise you to wait until you get home.” A Conscientious Patient. “Medicine won’t help you any,” the doctor told his patient. “What you need is a complete change of living. Get away to some quiet country place for a month. Go to bed early, eat more roast beef, drink plenty of good, rich milk, and smoke just one cigar a day.” A month later the patient walked into the doc tor’s office. He looked like a new man, and the doctor told him so. “Yes, doctor, your advice certainly did the busi ness. I went to bed early and did all the other things you told me. But, say, doctor, that one ci gar a day almost killed me at first. It’s no joke starting in to smoke at my time o’ life.”—Every body’s Magazine. Gossip of the Wind. By Robert Lowman. The wind is such a gossip, I must be very still, For every idle word I breathe He’ll carry o’er the hill; And shrub, and rock, and bird, and tree, That I love jealously, May form some queer opinion Os poor old foolish me. A teacher in Japan copied these English sentences just as they were written by Japanese pupils: “The toothache is a disgutable disease.” “Though the toothache is a little disease, it dis turbs the soul to a great degree.” “The good man is bold as a lion, but the bad man flew even when no man drive him.” “My dog is very bark.” “Come he»e, my amiable cat.” 3