Rachel, who was profoundly—almost fanatically—religious, had the General’s spiritual well-being much at heart; and when the little meeting-house was built he gave her his solemn promise that as soon as he was out of politics he would make a public declaration of his faith and ally himself with the church. He was reminded of his promise in 1838, after he had returned to the Hermitage from Washington, at which time he said: “I would long since have made this solemn public dedication to Almighty God, but knowing the wretchedness of this world and how prone many are to evil, that the scoffer of religion would have cried out ‘Hypocrisy! he has joined the church for political effect,’ I thought it best to postpone this public act until my retirement to the shades of private life, when no false imputation could be made that might be injurious to religion.” The records of the church show, however, that promptly upon his return to private life in 1837 he took the step of public declaration of faith, following a “protracted meeting” at the Hermitage church. His son’s wife joined the church at the same time and Parton thus describes the scene: “The Hermitage church was crowded to the utmost of its small capacity; the very windows were darkened with the eager faces of the servants. After the usual services, the General rose to make the required public declaration of his concurrence with the doctrines, and his resolve to obey the precepts, of the church. He leaned heavily upon his stick with both hands; tears rolled down his cheeks. His daughter, the fair, young matron, stood beside him. Amid a silence the most profound, the General answered the questions proposed to him. When he was formally pronounced a member of the church, and the clergyman was about to continue the services, the long restrained feeling of the congregation burst forth in sobs and exclamations, which compelled him to pause for several minutes. The clergyman himself was speechless with emotion, and abandoned himself to the exultation of the hour.”