the powerful, the eloquent preacher, under whose word converts were multiplied "as dews of the morning;" but under his peculiar genius Methodism had never become an organic system, to last its centuries. Wesley, though not a great man in thought or language, was the master builder without whom the labor of men like Whitfield had been, as it were, "scattered unto strangers." He gave to his cause the character of a permanent institution. Mr. Badger was no disorganizer. He believed in organization, in system, though he sought to organize with simplicity and on large and catholic principles of Christian brotherhood. At Milo, N. Y., at a general meeting which, on Sunday, September 3, 1820, was held in one of the pleasant groves of that rural town, Mr. Badger preached the ordination sermon of Benjamin Farley, James Potter and Stephen Lamphere, from Rom. 10: 14: "How shall they hear without a preacher?" The week following he spent chiefly at and in the vicinity of the village of Aurora, where he preached several sermons and administered baptism to a few believers. He then returned by way of Auburn, preached twice to large assemblies in the Presbyterian church at Brutus, visited his devoted friend Dr. Beman, and in the evening spoke to the assembled citizens of Elbridge. On the morning of the 11th he called at the bedside of Dr. Ayers, who was in the last stage of consumption. "After much conversation," says Mr. B., "I asked him if he desired us to attend prayers. He paused and said, '_Can_ you pray?' (What an important question!) I answered in the affirmative. Said he, 'Does God hear you and give you answers?' I told him 'Yes.' He then burst into tears and said, '_Once_ he heard _me_, but does not of late.' Every heart present was moved. He was a man beloved. He bowed with us in prayer. At nine o'clock we left him and proceeded to Camillus, where I baptized the wife of Esquire Benedict and Mrs. McMaster, his daughter. At evening I spoke to a multitude of weeping auditors. On my return, agreeable to promise, I called on Dr. A., who again knelt with me at the altar of mercy, and when I gave him my parting hand he said, 'I shall meet you in heaven.' His countenance was as serene as a morning without clouds."