CHAPTER XI.
In the latter part of May, 1837, Mr. Pendleton was ordained
deacon, at the Convention in Petersburg, Virginia, by Bishop
Meade. He left his family in Virginia, and proceeded at once to
Newark, where he became professor of mathematics and chemistry.
The vacation of Newark College was in October, and several
of the Bristol boys were immediately transferred to it, in
connection with their former professor. This was especially the
case with a number of his young relatives.
The prospects of the young professor were fair enough. The
college paid one thousand dollars and furnished a tolerably
good house. Bishop H. M. Onderdonk, of Pennsylvania, was
then exercising episcopal supervision in Delaware. He engaged
the young deacon to minister to two poor churches five or six
miles from the village. His predecessor in these churches had,
the bishop informed him, "lived on less than a little." It was,
therefore, with no thought of compensation that he gladly accepted
the opportunity to preach the Gospel of Christ, and became their
pastor. His labor soon proved so agreeable that they determined
to give him what salary they could raise,—between one and two
hundred dollars.
It not infrequently happens in the lives of those chosen by
God to accomplish important work in His Church that discipline
and affliction are sent to chasten and develop their characters at
the opening of any career of special responsibility and usefulness,
and thus it was now. One of the first letters from Virginia
brought Mr. Pendleton the announcement of the death of his
little son Robin, from measles, and of the alarming illness of
little Lucy. Alone, among strangers, the blow was a heavy one
to his loving heart. But, as ever in the hour of desolation, the
Saviour drew nearer to him, and the lessons of submission to
trial and consolations granted to the solitary mourner were never
forgotten. Sorely afflicted himself, he could enter with sympathizing
tenderness into the sorrows of others, and speak to them
with confident assurance of the comfort and support promised to
all the sorrowful among the children of men.
Although begun so sadly, the life at Newark proved a useful
and happy one. In order to facilitate the education of the youths
of his immediate connection, Mr. Pendleton had them to live with
him. His own brother Gurdon and his wife's brother John, with
a number of cousins, were in this way members of his household
for several years. For this privilege they paid less than two dollars
a week, which sum, he estimated, would provide their food and
fire, but which could certainly never furnish remuneration for wear
and tear, for the trouble of housekeeping for such a number, nor
for the great pains he took in overlooking their various studies.
Other young men came to him for private lessons in mathematics
and engineering. The terms for these were also conscientiously
low,—five dollars a week paid the expenses of living and
thorough instruction. The young men who thus became inmates
of his house during his residence at Newark were all greatly influenced
for good, and in after-years never omitted an opportunity
to express their appreciation of the noble character and the kindness
of their former instructor.
The social relations sustained by Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton with
the families of the president, Dr. Mason, and the other professors,
Rev. Mr. Allen and Mr. Greaves, were cordial and pleasant. They
also became much attached to some of the residents of the village,
especially to their physician, Dr. Handy, to Mr. and Mrs. Blandy,
and to Mr. and Miss Holzbecker, from all of whom they received
much kindness.
In 1838, Mr. Pendleton received priest's orders from Bishop
Onderdonk, with whom, as with all the neighboring clergymen
he maintained friendly relations. Bishop Alfred Lee was at that
time rector of a large church in Wilmington, and his fraternal
kindness to the young Virginia clergyman was gratefully appreciated
and his friendship valued throughout life.
Few letters written at this period remain. One tells of his first
sermon, preached in the college chapel,—there was no Episcopal
church in the village,—and another of Christmas service and
communion at one of his churches in 1838.
A large, old-fashioned garden was attached to the house in
Newark. This Mr. Pendleton cultivated to much advantage, and
formed a taste for practical gardening which furnished much of
his most healthful exercise and recreation during many years of
his life. Botanizing with his wife was also carried on along the
picturesque banks of White Clay Creek, not far from the village.
Busy as his life was, with public and private classes, systematic
parochial work, diligent study, and the many cares devolving
upon the head of a growing family, no duty was too small, no
interest too trivial, to engage his attention. A copy was as carefully
set and a writing-lesson as regularly given to a little orphan
girl, who had been taken as a help in the nursery, as a mathematical
lecture to one of his classes.
In the spring of 1838, Mrs. Pendleton's sister Fanny was
married to Philip N. Meade, oldest son of Bishop Meade, of
Virginia. Their engagement had taken place at Mr. Pendleton's,
and the marriage was a source of great pleasure in his family.
The intimacy and connection with Bishop Meade was already
very close. Both his wives were first cousins of Mrs. Pendleton,
and, by a singular coincidence, had both been her godmothers.
They were also related to Mr. Pendleton, though more distantly.
By the marriage of Mr. Meade and Miss Page the ties between
the families were drawn still closer, and constant intercourse
followed it for many years.
During his second year at Newark ill health again attacked
Mr. Pendleton. Serious derangement of the liver and digestive
organs occasioned much bodily suffering, attended by depression
of spirits. Under the advice of a new physician, violent remedies,
external and internal, were applied. Mr. Pendleton was accustomed
for months to use cupping-glasses and leeches for his own
relief. One night a jar containing Spanish leeches was upset in
the dark, and the little blood-suckers crawled out and made their
way into various unsuitable places. A small panic ensued until
a light was procured, the room thoroughly searched, and every
leech found and returned to the bottle.
