We saw that to succeed in Kentucky we must have the co-operation of all true Christians, who trusted in Christ as their Savior from sin - all sin. Bro. G. came across the Ohio river and said, “Bro. Fee, we Free Presbyterians have so amended our Confession of Faith that we shut out all slave-holders; join with us.” I said: “To do so would leave us but a little handful in Kentucky; also there are good brethren here who would not like your creed, in other respects; nor the name Presbyterian.

Bro. W., a Wesleyan of good ability and of true piety, came. He said: “Bro. Fee, Wesleyans have no connection with slave-holding and our creed is small; join with us.” I said: “We are glad of your protest against slave-holding and hope your creed will grow still smaller so that it will shut out no true child of God who accepts Christ in all the fullness of his character; but there are brethren here who would not like to accept your creed nor take the name Wesleyan.” We said that it is manifest that in order to success we must have a creed so simple that all true followers of Christ can unite on it. And we must have a name so catholic that all the true followers of Christ can wear it. This must be Christian as designating individual character; and church of Christ at ______ as designating the local church. Thus were we led by the logic of events to see the wisdom of the plan long before marked out by our Lord when he said: “Neither pray I for these alone, but for all them that believe on me through their word, that they may be one.”

The basis of union was Christ, a person - not opinions - but a PERSON. “Other foundation can no man lay than is laid, which is Jesus Christ.” The reason for fellowship was manifested faith in Christ as the Savior from sin. On this foundation came together those who had been known as Presbyterians, Disciples, Methodists and Baptists.

A question now arose in my mind as to the propriety of my receiving aid from the American Home Missionary Society. I gave to the Society my reasons why I must decline further aid: They were as follows:

1. In securing and sending an annual contribution to your Society I will thereby help sustain and build up slave-holding.

2. However small my influence may be, my continued reception of your aid would be thus far an endorsement of your policy; this I may not give.

The society replied they thought I ought to be satisfied if they were willing to give aid to me in my protest against slave-holding; and in reference to pastors aided, their work of inquiry was ended when the pastors are regarded as “rectus in ecclesia,” “right in church.” This was Congregationalism “with a vengeance.”

I replied: “Christ is not the minister of sin and you ought not to be, and I may not help you in this.”

Just at this time, Jan. 17, 1846, Bro. A. A. Phelps, who was secretary of the Union Missionary Society, merged soon after this into the American Missionary Association, wrote to me saying, “I think you should stay where you are and itinerate three or six months, as you can. I hope you will, on no account, withdraw your application for a re-commission from the Home Missionary Society; if they refuse, they make Abolitionism a test of church standing as Dickerson has in his refusal to recommend you. Do not let them off - urge and insist on a decision of the ‘new case.’”

The Society did not want to be “let off.” I felt I must let them off. Whilst they manifestly, for some reason, desired to help sustain one anti-slavery church in the South they were at the same time sustaining fifty two slave-holding churches in the South. This was blowing hot and cold - serving God and the devil - doing evil on a large scale, that good might come on a small scale. I said: “I may not bid you God speed in your wicked policy,” and returned their commission.

The little church established on the one foundation, Christ, and its pastor disenthralled from all slave-holding alliances, and the little cottage now enclosed, one room with one coat of plastering on and that not dry, the humble pastor, wife and first-born child entered. With a small case of books on the right, a small cupboard on the left, our little Laura in a cradle in the middle, a bed behind, at nightfall Matilda and I sat down before a cheerful fire in an open fireplace, without a cloud of the unseen future before us.

In this little room sixteen feet square, with bed and table extending a plank from one chair to another, we had preaching Sunday evenings after I returned from distant appointments. Monday morning whilst I made fires, fed the horse and milked the cow, my wife swept out dirt from previous muddy shoes and scrubbed out stains from tobacco spit as far as she could. The one end to be attained, at whatever sacrifice, was the lodgment of fundamental truth in the minds of the people.

As we began to plant ourselves more fixedly in the State, the slave power busied itself in efforts to stir up opposition and mob violence. A plot was arranged to waylay me on my way to an appointment some fifteen miles distant. Some men who were friends proposed to go and defend me from assailants; but said they would not go without arms. I said: “I carry no weapons; I know retaliation will destroy society. If I suffer I will make my appeal to the civil courts.” These friends declined going. My wife said she would go. The babe was left with a kind neighbor woman.

Saturday morning found Matilda and me each on horseback, winding our way through the hills of Lewis to our appointment fifteen miles distant on the banks of the Ohio river. No molestation that day. That night during the hour of preaching some “roughs” took our horse out of the stable, took him off into the forest, tied some billets of wood to his tail and started him, thinking he would be greatly frightened and they see some fun. “Ben” took the matter so gently that they declared he had “religion” and let him go at pleasure. When my wife found that her horse was gone, the horse her father had given to her, and that he was probably being abused, she was troubled and “sweat at the eyes.” Old Father Rankin, John Rankin, had come across the Ohio river to attend the meeting; and byway of comfort to my wife, said: “Why, Sister Fee, I have had my horse's tail shaved and mane cropped and one ear cut off, and he rode just as well afterward as before.” Not long after “Ben” was found quietly browsing among the bushes and waiting to do his part in further evangelization.

The next day it was confidently asserted assault would be made on our way home. The proposed assault, however, had been disconcerted by the sudden death of the leader, who was killed in a saw-mill. As angry members of the proposed mob two men waylaid us, but were hindered from personal violence by the presence of a sturdy farmer, who had purposely planned to return home with us. One of the assailants, with a club in hand, rode rapidly up to me in a threatening attitude; but my wife, dexterous on horseback as he, at each moment interposed herself between me and H. After two or three passes, the sturdy farmer rode up and said: “Hannahs, if you do not clear out from here, I will get down and beat you till there shall not be a sound bone in your body.” Hannahs contented himself by dismounting and throwing stones, one of which struck me, but without serious injury to me.

Whilst not seriously injured, I saw this was my opportunity to show, that whilst I did not avenge personal injury I would show respect to civil law by appealing to it for protection and gaining, if possible, a decision of the courts in favor of free speech and personal security. I brought the case before the grand jury, and through that into the circuit court.

The judge was a slaveholder. He said to the court: “Gentlemen, Mr. Fee is an Abolitionist, and if slave-holding is sinful, then the Abolitionists are right. They say, repent of sin immediately; and you would not say to pickpockets, quit your sin gradually.” But having called for a Bible, he opened it and said: “Slavery is not sinful; the Bible sanctions it,” and referred to the case of Abraham, and the instruction of Moses to buy of the heathen round about, and of Paul as returning Onesimus, “a runaway slave.” Closing the book, he said: “But, gentlemen, free speech must be had; and Mr. Hannahs ought to be ashamed of his conduct, and the court must fine him.”

This decision gave to me a measure of protection in Lewis County, but did not wholly suppress the spirit of violence in adjoining counties.

About this time, at my suggestion, a petition was sent to Cassius M. Clay, requesting him to come to Lewis County, July 4th, 1846, and make to us an address on the subject of slavery and emancipation. The call was signed by twenty-seven citizens, to be sent to Mr. Clay.

Mr. Clay accepted the invitation, commended highly the courage of the men who had made the call, but sent back the sad intelligence that he must defer the purposed address until his return from the war with Mexico.

Accompanying this call went the letter of a neighbor, saying: “The anti-slavery sentiment of the community will soon be embodied, and it will be made known that no man, Whig or Democrat, can have their votes who is a practical slaveholder, or an apologist for slavery.” This was sent to Mr. Clay and published in the True American. This stirred the slave power, especially in Mason County, the adjoining county. An article appeared in the Maysville Eagle, which in some respects misrepresented the statement of the former, by saying: “This is as rank Abolitionism as was ever uttered by Birney or Tappan. No slaveholder is hereafter to receive the votes of these simon-pure liberty men; and they who dare to apologize for the institutions of our country are thus denounced and proscribed, and this is heralded forth as the sentiments of Lewis County.” This was a misrepresentation. The sentiments only of those organized were declared.

Mr. Clay, having declined then to come, and the slave power raging, some ten men of the twenty-seven who had signed the call inviting Mr. Clay to come, took back their names; and upon myself, Mr. Clay's correspondent, were gathered the severest anathemas, and threats of violence and of the utter destruction of my house. The night for the work of desperation was fixed. My friends expected the threatened violence, and a man whom we knew as a friend and one who had opportunity to know the movements of our enemies came three times during the day and entreated that I leave my home or I would certainly be killed. At night we went to bed as usual. The night was one of terrific darkness, thunder and lightning. Many, with purposes of violence, did gather at the place of rendezvous, but dispersed before the frowning elements. Soon after this the prime mover was killed by a tenant. The slain man, though a major, a slaveholder with large property, was so little esteemed by his neighbors that, as I was informed, scarcely enough gathered to give to him a decent burial. Another man who shot at me whilst I was sitting in my house, was soon afterward drowned in the Ohio river.

For reasons manifest my audiences were small. Many whose sympathies were with the principles of justice and liberty were afraid to be seen listening to me in public audiences. I saw I must try and reach the people at their homes, at their firesides; and I decided I would write and publish an anti-slavery manual, a hand-book showing the testimony of God's Word against slavery, - the evil consequences of slavery upon society, and with these show the unity of the human race - that verily “God hath made of one blood all nations of men.” The matter for this manual I prepared, and, for best effect, decided to publish in Kentucky, - in Maysville, a city near by.

Whilst preliminary arrangements were being made, a man of wealth and influence in that city wrote to me a letter, saying that if I should come to that city and attempt to publish an anti-slavery book he would head a band of sixty men, ride me on a rail and duck me in the Ohio river. I went on with my publishing, and attended to proof-reading there in the city. Whilst there the conductor of the press said to me: “My father, Judge Chambers and John A. McClung, will this forenoon make speeches in the court house. Come, go down.” I went.

I had a few days previously headed a petition to Congress praying that Texas might be admitted as a free State and thus delivered from slavery, which our own statesman, Henry Clay, admitted to be a curse. As the meeting was about to adjourn, a little fellow, a practicing attorney at the bar, well known as Tom Payne, jumped to his feet and said: “There is a matter here that ought to be now attended to. There is,” said he, “a certain man by the name of John G. Fee up here in the edge of Lewis County, who has headed a petition to Congress in which he denounces Henry Clay, the son of Kentucky. It is time such men were silenced and driven out of the county.” As he ended this sentence, I arose to my feet, and addressing the chairman, Judge Reed, the noted defender of slavery and free speech previously referred to, said: “Mr. Chairman, I happen to know something about that petition. I drafted it and know that Henry Clay is not denounced. So far as he is concerned, his words are commended.”

Cries went up: “Take him out; take him out.” Instantly almost the whole house arose to their feet. Some tried to get me into the aisle. I refused. I knew that was not the place of security to me. A stout man, a stone-mason, stepped to my side, and with an uplifted, brawny arm, said: “Men, I have been in one war (1812), and will be in another before this man is taken out.” He knew me.

Judge Reed, with stentorian voice, cried out: “Sit down, men, sit down. I would be ashamed to preside in a meeting where a man is publicly assailed and yet not allowed a word in defense. One of old said: ‘Though you slay me, hear me.’ Speak on, speak on.” I did so, and the audience dispersed quietly. We here scored another count for free speech and personal security.

I went on with the publication of my book, and distributed with my own hands many copies in the city.

Afterward the American Missionary Association abridged the book and distributed many copies in this and other States.

I wrote, for more general distribution, a tract on the sinfulness of slave-holding; another on the duty of non-fellowship of slaveholders in church relationship, and another on the folly of colonization as a plan of emancipation.

Just about this time the occasion for another protest came, - a protest against secret orders. We had a union temperance society, into which all, young and old, rich and poor, could come, “without money and without price.”