e in the neighborhood was
filled with guests, and the balance, not less than fifty in number, were
entertained at what was called the Cowham Mansion. But great as was the
outpouring of the people, the manifestations of the Spirit were still
more extraordinary. Under the preaching of the Word, the Holy Ghost fell
on the people. The shout of redeemed souls and the cry of penitents,
"What shall I do to be saved?" commingled strangely together. And yet,
out of the apparent discord, there came the sweetest harmony. The minor
strains were lost in the rapturous paeans of the major movement, as each
seeking soul received "the new song." The days of the Fathers seemed to
have returned to the Church, when, under the Pentecostal baptism,
believers fell to the floor, and multitudes were saved in a day.

It was during this year that I was called to experience a severe trial
in the death of my dear father, which occurred on the 30th day of May,
1855. After remaining at Waupun six years, he removed, in 1850, to
Waupaca, where he purchased the lands comprising the site of the present
village, laid out the town and erected a lumber mill. Soon after his
arrival he opened religious services, preaching the first sermon and
organizing the first class. In due time, others came to his assistance,
and a small Church was built. Waupaca having been taken into the regular
work, my father now visited the adjacent neighborhoods and established
religious meetings, preaching usually two or three times on the Sabbath.
Not a few of these early appointments ultimately became the nucleus of
independent charges.

My father's illness was brief. In the latter part of the winter he met
me at my Quarterly Meeting at Oshkosh, but, to the regret of the people,
he was unable to preach. He felt that his work was nearly done, and in
referring to the matter, said: "I have no occasion to feel anxious about
it, since, through Divine help, I have been permitted to preach, on an
average, about two sermons a week for thirty years." I visited him two
weeks before his death, and found his mind tranquil and his Faith
unwavering. When I enquired as to his state of mind, he said, "It is
like a sunbeam of glory." He continued in the same satisfactory frame,
until he passed over the river to join the white-robed throng in the
Heavenly realm. The multitudes who gathered with tearful eyes around his
grave, gave but a fitting expression of their high appreciation of a
noble life