They were formally received in a special conference held in Knoxville. A number of the Bishops, general officers, and leading ministers and laymen throughout the denomination attended this conference, which was presided over by Bishop Weaver. One of the leading ministers of the movement, in delivering the welcome address on that occasion, made use of the following language: “I am certain that one-half the membership of both churches (the Methodist bodies) heartily prefer a church government of the people, by the people, and for the people, to their own.... In view of these things, I may venture to say that a strong church that will fill the valleys and mountains of this country with a religious paper devoted to Arminianism and liberty, and will follow up this plan with men and with churches may expect a glorious welcome.” CHAPTER FOURTEEN. _Autumn—The Fading Leaf—Fruit in Old Age—His Later Labors—Present Home._ “We all do fade as a leaf,” was the lamentation of an ancient prophet in a melancholy mood. The fading leaf speaks in sad but beautiful language of waning vitality. It is the harbinger of autumn, telling us that nature is getting ready to close her books for the season. It brings with it a tinge of sadness mingled with sweetness; for there is compensation in even the saddest experiences. What would the year be without the pensive days of autumn? They are the golden fringes of the bounteous summer season. Sad, indeed, would they be if the summer has been ill spent. Then might the melancholy wail arise from the forlorn heart, “The harvest is past, the summer is ended.” But when autumn looks back upon a springtime of bountiful seed-sowing, and a summer of bountiful reaping, it becomes the year’s climax of joy, the beneficiary of all its blessings. Enriched by the summer’s heritage, it is beautiful and peaceful and happy. “We all do fade as a leaf.” May it be said philosophically. The fading of the leaf reveals more perfectly its innate qualities, and rounds out its brief existence. The red or brown or yellow, in mute language, tells its life history and closes the book. It is said of the aged, sometimes, “They are set in their ways.” That is because in them character has become a finished product. The incidentals and accidentals have become eliminated, and the accumulated results of years of striving and hoping, sorrow and pain, defeats and victories are plainly discernible. Personal traits stand out in bold relief so that all may fittingly say, “Behold the man.”