Boyhood and Other Days in Georgia BY George W Yarbrough, D.D. Superannuate Member or the North Georgia Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South Edited by H. M. DU BOSE, D.D. BOOK EDITOR METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH NASHVILLE, TENN. DALLAS, TEX.J RICHMOND, VA. PUBLISHING HOUSE OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH SMITH & LAMAR, AGENTS 1917 EDITOR'S NOTE Biography is the soul of history; without it the annals of no nation would possess relevancy or carry a teaching force. The present volume belongs to the class of biography, but it is biography of a unique character; it is doubtful if it has a parallel in our literature. During the latter years of a min- isterial career of more than half a century, Dr. George W Yarbrough, one of the veteran itinerants of the North Georgia Annual Conference, has been associating his maturest thoughts on all great subjects and the results of his happiest medita- tions with a record of the passing incidents and reminiscences of his life. These records have taken shape in a series of newspaper articles which, from the printing of the first, many years ago, attracted general attention in the Church and have been repeatedly called for in the permanent form of a book. To these reminiscential writings have been added several dis- courses and addresses which, for the most part, are carried along with the same historical and reminiscential current. Also there have been added some personal sketches and stories which give to the volume a delightful flavor of quaintness and indigenous humor. The author is himself that catholic man in whom all happy moods and pleasant aptitudes unite. His writings only express his natural self. From his own personal experience in going through these chapters preparatory to sending them to the press the editor feels confident that they are to have a wide reading, that they are to carry a message and ministry of inspiration and cheer, and that they are also to appeal with a true literary force and effectiveness. They are full of consciousness, genuineness, and faith, and overflow with the love of the grand old man who gave them shape, not with the purpose of making a book of them, but of making them voice, each at the time of its writing, the measure of the honest, happy, Christlike soul that all men know him to be. In some useful way there is in these 3 BOYHOOD AND OTHER DAYS IN GEORGIA papers an inside history of the Methodism of Georgia for the past fifty years. Voices will herein be heard that otherwise had become silent; others that never can be hushed will be heard again, each in its own accents. Every younger man in the ministry of the Church who reads these chapters will real- ize that giants were afoot in the days just behind him, and that at least one of these mighty ones remains to tell how the deeds of those days were made possible. As a fitting part of this introduction to Dr. Yarbrough's volume, the editor appends here a letter to him from Dr. Young is itself a token of might. J. Allen, whose name These two were comrades in college and were knit together in life as one soul. The letter, which is dated at No. 90 Chapoo Road, Shanghai, China, January 24, 1905, reads as follows: My Dear Old Friend: The mail bringing the Wesleyan of December 1, containing appointments of the North Georgia Conference, after an un- usual delay, has just reached me; and as the interval is already long since our last letters were passed, I avail myself of this opportunity to write you again immediately after ascertaining your post office. I see that you have completed the entire circuit of the Conference, one grand revolution of forty-seven years bringing you back to the point of departure in 1857. Well, my dear old comrade, I must congratulate you. What sights and scenes and notable experiences have been yours ! And now you return laden with the spoils of years to enrich those who, like yourself, in the days gone by are gathered at the dear old village and Alma Mater, pre- paring to take up the grand march for the conquest of the world. I wish I could be with you once again and revisit and recall the places and expe- riences of those "brave days of old," when we had a "heart for any fate." Our lines have widely diverged since then; but, thank God! long before we heard of wireless telegraphy we had that equally—yea, more—wonder- ful revelation of spiritual communion, the fellowship of the skies, which has never failed. The Wesleyan's report of the Conferences, North and South, were very meager; and had it not been for a sight of the Atlanta Constitution, I should be in almost entire ignorance of what was done outside the usual minute business of the session. I have just had my usual Conference letter from dear George Gilman. He referred to you most affectionately, and of himself he spoke rather pathetically. A letter from Bishop Galloway also mentioned you and George Smith and Cofer and Candler—to all of whom he referred most tenderly as speaking of my dear absent friends of whom he knew I should be glad to hear. Well, now, my dear "Yarberry," you will be surprised to hear of a new name which you have recently acquired in your old age. Your recent 4 BOYHOOD AND OTHER DAYS IN GEORGIA article in the Wesleyan about Chalmers and his experience fell into my hands at an opportune moment, and so I translated it into Chinese and made it the basis of an editorial for the next number of the Chinese Chris- tian Advocate (February). But I could not translate your name, and so had to transliterate it; and in Chinese it has become "Yarbooloo," almost Apollo. But to the Chinese it is all the same; really much better so, for the Asiatic is no more a match for the pronunciation of pure English words than an American is for the pronunciation of Chinese. In fact, in order to get along at all we missionaries have to surrender on arrival here and submit to be renamed altogether and then learn the language; otherwise our mission would be one protracted or impossible undulating, a genuine non possumus. Well, George, as I see it, now is your opportunity to give us that long- promised book. It has had a long incubation or gestation and should be something large, either an albatross or an elephant. Your articles in the Wesleyan have prepared your way, for all your friends now know what to expect of "Yarberry " or, better still, "Yarbooloo." My name, by the way, is not Young J. Allen in China, except among Europeans and Ameri- cans, but "Ling Lo-Chee," or, in Chinese, as on the card which I inclose. I fear you will not find many of the dear old friends left among the good citizens of Oxford. The Stewarts, I suppose, are still there, and I wish to be remembered particularly to them. Your sister Mollie (Mrs. Haygood) I have lost sight of. She is due me a letter; but none has come for more than a year, and I should like to know her address. Please write me soon and locate yourself at Oxford, for I should like to know just where you are living; and please tell me something of the dear old friends there and elsewhere. Such "personals" would be greatly enjoyed. Tell me about Lovett, Cofer and Candler, Glenn and George Smith, and any of the "boys" whose lives and lines have crossed ours. all I must close now. With kindest regards to Sister Yarbrough and your family, believe me, my dear "old-log"* comrade, ever Yours affectionately, Young J. Allen. It is also to the suggestion of Dr. Allen that this volume owes its title, "Boyhood and Other Days in Georgia." No little interest for many will be added to the book by this asso- ciation of his name with its title. H. M. Du Bose. Nashville, Tennessee, March 15, 1917. *The "old log" was the rallying place for our grove meetings during visit the home- our revivals at Oxford. When Dr. Allen made his first to Oxford, to the land after going to China, he went, soon after reaching fragment of it and old log, which had begun to crumble. He picked up a ground," as it is still to the carried it to China. That was "hallowed G. Y. attenuated line of his survivors who prayed with him there. W. 5 PREFACE My life has been undulating. There has been in it less of monotony than of anything else. If I were to leave to the public an autobiography, its read- ers, if they should become interested in it and should be asked to give a reason for it, might reply, like the man found intent- ly engaged in the perusal of a dictionary: "We like to read it because it changes the subject so often." I have climbed the mountains and have luxuriated in the valleys ; the great cities have opened their wonders to me, and I have gone from them into the quiet and simplicity of the country; I have mingled with the great and have been happy with the lowly. In the mansions of the white man I have shared an abounding hospitality and have relished a frugal repast in the cabin of the negro; I have been honored with the companionship of the learned and have received from those of less attainments many contributions to the education of a side of my life without which any life is sadly deficient.