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Updated: May 23, 2025
Then his mounting up the Pas de l'Échelle, which he did not climb "without profound emotion," was a great trouble to him. Of all this we find not a word in the journals or letters of Neff, whose early life as a soldier had perhaps better inured him to "roughing it" than the more tender bringing-up of Pastor Bost.
Colonel Neff, in accordance with his orders, had blockaded the principal roads to the west, and stood at bay in front of his camp. Morgan threw a few shells at Neff's force, and a slight skirmish began, but again he broke away, forced to make a detour of ten miles to the north.
Unresting and indefatigable, Neff was always at work. He exhorted the people in hovels, held schools in barns in which he taught the children, and catechised them in stables. His hand was in every good work. He taught the people to sing, he taught them to read, he taught them to pray. To be able to speak to them familiarly, he learnt their native patois, and laboured at it like a schoolboy.
And there too, in 1822, Felix Neff preached to large congregations, who were so anxious and attentive that he always after spoke of the place as his "dear Vizille;" and now, to wind up the vicissitudes of the great hall, it is used as a place for the printing of Bandana handkerchiefs!
At the same moment, a rattling crash of firearms and the terrible war-whoop announced the attack on Haverhill. He unharnessed his horse, seized his gun, which he always kept near at hand, and galloped away like the wind toward the house, pursued by arrows of the Indians. Reaching the house before the Indians, he cried to his family to fly, and he would cover their retreat. "Mrs. Neff, take Mrs.
A. J. French, for the Wesleyan Conference, was a native of Vars. He was one of the favourite pupils of Felix Neff, with whom he resided at Dormilhouse in 1825-7; Neff saying of him: "Among the best of my pupils, as regards spiritual things and secular too, is Jean Rostan, of Vars: he is probably destined for the ministry; such at least is my hope."
Dustin was forced to march into the wilderness and seek repose on the hard, cold ground. Mrs. Neff attempted to escape with the baby, but was intercepted. The infant had its brains beaten out against a tree, and the body was thrown into the bushes. The captives of Haverhill, when collected, were thirteen miserable, wretched people.
Such is the interesting though desolate mountain hamlet to the service of whose hardy inhabitants the brave Felix Neff devoted himself during the greater part of his brief missionary career.
It became a saying in the valley that Protestantism was as dead as that stump, and that it would only reappear when that dead stump came to life! And, strange to say, since Felix Neff has been here, the stump has come to life you see how green it is and again Protestantism is like the elm-tree, sending out its vigorous offshoots, in the valley."
Dyckman thought that professionals would make the amateurs look more amateurish than ever. The debate swayed from side to side, but finally inclined toward the belief that a few professional bits would refresh the audience. And then suddenly Mrs. Neff had to sing out: "Oh, Charity, I've an idea. Let's get some stunning dancer to do a special number. I remember one who would be just the ticket.
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