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LEONARD & COMPANY, PRINTERS
ONEIDA RESERVE
1849.
THE practice of relating one's own religious experience, which is common among all the more spiritual denominations, is as ancient at least as Christianity, and is countenanced by the example of Paul, who constantly defended himself before the tribunals of the Jews and Romans, by giving an account of his religious life, his early zeal for J)1daism, and his subsequent conversion to Christianity. - It may be said in favor of auto-biography in general, that as each individual is better acquainted with his own private history than any other man can be, each is best qualified, and has the best right (other things being equal) to tell his own story, if his story needs or deserves to be, told. And especially in the case of religious experience, which is less open to foreign observation than any other, it is proper and necessary, if this most valuable kind of history is to be preserved at all, that each one should give account of himself.
For the sake of giving those who have taken an interest in my career as an editor and an author, some information which perhaps they have the curiosity and the right to possess, and also with a view to preparing the way for subsequent confessions of social experience and social principles, I propose in this first part, briefly to 'tell my religious experience.' This will comprise, first, an account of the causes and process of my conversion to Perfectionism in 1884; and secondly, an account of the principal events in my religious life, from that period till my history became identified with that of the Putney Community, in 1838. Believing that this expose is fairly demanded at the present time, and casting away therefore all undue solicitude about any charges of egotism which I may incur from those who 'watch for evil,' I will proceed to give account of myself in simplicity, as in the sight of God.
My father, whose ancestors formerly lived in Newburyport, (Mass.,) was a man of liberal education, and at first proposed to enter the ministerial: profession, but subsequently devoted himself to mercantile business, in which he was quite successful. He rose to some distinction in politics; but was not a professor of religion. (See Appendix A.)
My mother, whose maiden name was Hayes, and whose family came from
1
2 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
New Haven, (Conn.,) was a member of the Congregational church. Her prominent traits were independence, conscientiousness, and religious assurance. She had her children baptized and took much pains to educate them in the fear of God.
After graduating at Dartmouth College in 1830, (the 19th year of my age,) I commenced the study of law, in the office of my brother in law L.G. Mead, Esq. At the end of a year (i.e. in August 1831) my attention was called to the subject of religion, by a protracted meeting in Putney. After a pain process of conviction, in which the conquest of my aversion to becoming a minister was one of the critical points, I submitted to God and obtained spiritual peace. The well known direction of Paul in Rom. 10:6-9, was the medium of my reconciliation. With much joy and zeal I immediately devoted myself to the study of the scriptures, and to religious testimony in private and public. The idea of entire salvation from sin, (which was then forbidden by universal opinion,) was not present to my mind., But I remembered that I had a strong consciousness of the approving praise~ of God, and a confidence that his grace would lead me into all truth and righteousness. The year 1831 was distinguished as 'the year of revivals.' New measures, protracted meetings, and New York evangelists had just entered New England, and the while sprit of the people was fermenting with religious excitement. The Millennium was supposed to be very near. I fully entered into the enthusiasm of the time; and, seeing no reason why backsliding should be expected, or why the revival-spirit might not be maintained in its full vigor permanently, I determined with all my inward strength to be a 'young convert' in zeal and simplicity for ever. My heart was fixed on the Millennium, and I resolved to live or die for it. I soon concluded that I was to enter the ministry, and commenced the preparatory Hebrew studies which are required for admission to the theological seminary at Andover.
On one occasion, at this period, in conversation with my father, who was fond of theological argument, I suggested an interpretation of some passage in scripture, which he thought was new. 'Take care,' said he, 'that is heresy.' 'Heresy or not,' said I, 'it is true.' 'But if you are to be a minister,' said he you must think and preach as the rest of the ministers do; if you get out of the traces, they will whip you in.' I was very indignant at this suggestion, and replied, 'never! Never will I be, whipped by ministers or any body else into views that do not commend themselves to my understanding, as guided by the Bible, and enlightened by the Spirit.
Four weeks, after my conversion, I went to Andover, and was admitted to the' theological seminary. I had imagined that Christians every where were full of zeal and love, and especially that a theological seminary; where the choice young men of al1 the churches gather, was little less heavenly than a habitation of angels. Fresh as I was from the world, and from the study of law, I had some misgivings as to the reception which such a Saul would meet with, and the figure he would make in the 'school of the prophets.' A short acquaintance with the seminary, however, dispelled these imaginations, and occasioned misgivings of another sort. I soon found that learning was a matter of far greater account with theological students generally than spiritual-
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 3
ity, and that Andover was a very poor place for one who bad vowed to live in the 'revival spirit,' and be a 'young convert' forever.
It was often remarked by the most devoted among the students, that the spiritual atmosphere of the seminary was much less favorable to lively piety than that of common classical schools and colleges. The cause of this was supposed to be the circumstance that students in the seminary, being secluded from the world, and being all professors of religion, have less stimulus to exertion in prayer and watchfulness, than pious students in schools and colleges, who are surrounded by the ungodly. I am persuaded however that the principal reason of the fact is this: While men are studying in schools and colleges, or engaged in any other ordinary business, religion, if it is any thing to them, is a matter of the heart; their external faculties are otherwise engaged But in a theological seminary religion becomes a professional affair, an external business, a prospective means of subsistence.- When the external faculties are devoted to pursuits that are supposed to be sacred, it is quite natural to fall into a habit of thinking that there is little or no occasion for a separate education of the heart. Such a notion is fatal to spirituality.
Often was the question asked, in our little meeting- 'What would the churches, with their glowing zeal and their glorious revivals, think,'if they could look in upon us and see how lifeless and worldly we are?' And in truth there was occasion for the question. I thought then, as others thought, and as I still think, that there was less fervor and simplicity of devotion in the seminary as a whole, than in ordinary religious society; and that there was, at least, as much levity, bickering, jealousy, intrigue, and sensuality there, as in any equal gathering of young men with which I had ever been connected
As to my own experience, I may say in general, that the year" I spent at Andover was a period of much sorrow and inward conflict. Whether it was because my conscience was newly awakened and legality worked wrath in me with unusual vigor, or whether it resulted from the spiritual contagion of the place, I know not; but the fact was that I suffered more from the temptations of sensuality, especially from alimentiveness, during that year, than I have suffered in any year before or since. Nevertheless, I kept my vow in mind, and daily renewed it before God, 'with strong crying and tears' for help. Often the floods of sin seemed ready to overwhelm me, but on the whole, grace prevailed, and experience worked hope. My motto and text of argument with those who thought a halfway religion sufficient, was Paul's expression,- ' bringing into captivity EVERY THOUGHT, to the obedience of Christ. 2 Cor. 10: 5.
Notwithstanding the general scarcity of spirituality which I have described, there were some worthy exceptions. I became acquainted with a number of young men whose religion was truly that of the heart, and who were very zealous for progress in holiness. Especially among those who had devoted themselves to the foreign missionary service, I found brethren whose conversation and spiritual influence was a great blessing to me.
On 'my way to Andover, a brother-in-law, who accompanied me a short distance, and who was a little apprehensive that my zeal would outgrow my
4 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
worldly wisdom, cautioned me against taking the infection of the missionary spirit. I had not a thought of the matter before, and did not then think of it seriously. But the caution had no effect to hinder me from following what I afterward believed to be the call of duty. My spiritual state naturally threw me into fellowship with those who had the most zeal; and they in many case~ were pledged to foreign missions. The consequence was, that I was drawn to an examination of the question of my duty in regard to Service among the heathen; and within three months from the time of my conversion, I had decided to go, and was pledged to the American Board. The premises of my decision were these: I believed that true Christianity was permanently established and in full saving operation in this country. It seemed to me therefore that the diffusive, self-sacrificing spirit which animated the apostles would send every man who was able to serve Christ abroad, into heathen lands I stated the case to myself thus: Suppose an angel (i. e. a being having no earthly attachments) were hovering over the earth, surveying all nations at once, with a view to select his field of labor in the gospel. Where would he alight? My judgment at that time answered, in the midst of Asia;' and thither I determined to go. I shall relate hereafter the change which subsequently came over my views in relation to this subject. It is sufficient at present to say that my conversion to the missionary spirit was a great spiritual blessing to me. It tried my heart, and established its faithfulness. It severed many worldly affections, and gave me a buoyancy of spirit, and a consciousness of God's gracious presence, like that which I had at my first conversion.
In consequence of my decision to become a missionary, my connection with the missionary brethren became more intimate, and I was admitted to a select society which has existed among them since the days of Newell, Fisk, &c. Among those with whom I was thus associated, I remember Lyman and Munson, who were killed by cannibals some years ago on one of the islands in the East Indies; Tracy, who I suppose is now in China; Justin Perkins, the Nestorian missionary, and Champion, who went to Africa, but subsequently returned and died. One of the weekly exercises of this society was a frank criticism of each other's character, for the purpose of improvement. The mode of proceeding was this : At each meeting, the member whose turn it was according to the alphabetical order of his name, to submit to criticism, held his peace, while the other members, one by one, told him his faults in the plainest way possible. This exercise sometimes cruelly crucified self-complacency, but it was contrary to the regulations of the society for any one to be provoked or to complain. I found much benefit in submitting to this ordeal, both while I was at Andover and afterward.
My studies while at Andover were very much confined to the scriptures. The first year of the course in the seminary was at that time devoted almost exclusively to biblical Hebrew and Greek, with a collateral modicum of German hermeneutics. Prof. Stuart and Dr. Robinson were the principal instructors of my class. I became very much enamored of the Greek Testament, and of Robinson's Lexicon; but I could not force myself into any decided relish for commentaries, though I tried occasionally to follow the fashion ill this respect.
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 5
On two interesting passages of scripture, I received instructions from Prof. Stuart, which had an important bearing on my subsequent course. The first was the twenty-fourth chapter oi Matthew, which he taught us, in defiance of tradition and popular opinion, to refer altogether to the events connected with the destruction of Jerusalem. The second was the seventh chapter of Romans, which for the first time, and with much astonishment, I learned from his comments to regard as a description, not of Christian, but of carnal experience before conversion. This view harmonized well with my theory that Christians might always remain in the 'revival spirit,' and confirmed my purpose and hope of overcoming the world entirely and perpetually.
Though I gave diligent attention to the regular lessons of my class, and to the lectures of its instructors, I derived the principal nourishment of my mind and heart, even at this period, from investigations suggested by my own instinct, and pursued by methods of my own invention. I think the best part of my education at Andover was that which I obtained by studying the four Evangelists in the English, without note or comment. My method was this: I selected some specific trait in the character of Christ, or some vein of truth in his instructions, and with my eye on that, read the four gospel through at a sitting, noting with my pen all the passages relating to the point of interest. When this reading was finished, I reviewed my notes, meditated on them, and endeavored to obtain a concentrated and comprehensive view of the trait or truth selected for examination. My interest in the subject wou1d steadily increase as light beamed forth from one passage and another, till at last, when all the scattered rays were converged, my mind seemed to dwell in a focus of glory, and my heart burned within me. The pleasure and profit of this exercise was not chiefly intellectual. It opened a fountain of spiritual life to my soul. It drew me more and more into blessed fellowship with the spirit of him whose beauty I sought for and beheld. Many a time when I was ready to sink under the infirmities of flesh and spirit, and when I could find no rest for my soul either in communion with brethren, or in prayer, I betook myself to this method of conversing with Christ and found abundant joy and peace. I went through the gospels in this way almost daily for several months, and acquired so much facility in reading rapidly, and at the same time catching all that pertained to the subject in mind, that the process was by no means laborious.
I may mention in concluding this account of my experience and pursuits at Andover, that I had charge of a Bible class of young men in one of the churches of the village, and obtained much valuable biblical knowledge from the study and reflection which that engagement occasioned. The book of Acts was our field of inquiry. In the course of our investigations I was led to meditate much on the distinction between the Jewish and Christian dispensations. J saw then that Christianity, even after the day of Pentecost, was but in embryo-a bird that had not yet burst its shell; and I had a glimmering of the truth that the destruction of Jerusalem was the boundary line between Judaism and the kingdom of heaven. These ideas were the germs of my subsequent conclusions in regard to the Second Coming.
In the latter part of the year which I spent at Andover it became a
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 6
question of some importance to me, whether I should remain there, or go to New Haven. Several of my classmates had determined to go. It was urged in favor of the exchange, that Dr. Taylor was a more profound metaphysician, and a more interesting lecturer than Dr. Woods. The inducement which principally attracted me, however, was the fact that at New Haven I should only be required to attend the lectures of the seminary, and should thus be at liberty to devote the greater part of my time to my favorite study of the Bible; whereas at Andover the regular course of the second year would confine me mostly to the study of technical theology and the writings of 'standard divines.' Some formidable objections, such as the heretical reputation of Dr. Taylor, and the sacrifice of valuable connections at Andover, for a time held me in suspense. Indeed my mind was oppressed with 'doubtful disputatious' on the subject. The question seemed too large for my comprehension and decision. I prayed for guidance. At this juncture a curious circumstance occurred, which I will relate simply as an anecdote, leaving the reader to form his own judgment of it; and reserving my own views of the principle concerned in it for future discussion.
I had heard of instances in which persons, in perplexity about their course, had opened the Bible, and, in the verse which first met their eyes, bad found direction. I remembered that when I was first seeking the Lord, with the burden of sin heavy upon me, and almost in despair of, finding any clue of deliverance, I casually opened the Bible, and, to my astonishment and joy, found the very direction that I needed (Rom. 10: 6-10) immediately before me. These facts suggested the idea of opening the Bible, as a means of resolving my doubts about going to New Haven. Without any very serious confidence in this mode of asking counsel, but partly for the sake of trying an experiment, I took my Bible and hastily opened it. Whether it was by chance, or by the providence of Him who 'numbers the hairs of our head,' I will not say, but the passage that my eyes first fell upon was Matt. 28: 5, 6. 'Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus which was crucified. HE IS NOT HERE.' I could not but be amused at the coincidence of the passage with the facts in the case. I knew that I was seeing Jesus, and was well convinced that he was not at Andover. I see no reason why I should be ashamed to confess that this little circumstance broke the equilibrium of my doubts, and settled my determination to go.
The fall of 1832 found me at New Haven, a member of the middle class in the Yale Theological Seminary. There I remained a year and a half; i. e. till February in 1834, when I became a Perfectionist. During that year and a half I attended lectures daily, and studied Taylorism enough to be prepared for examinations: but my mind was chiefly directed with my heart to the simple treasures of the Bible. I went through the epistles of Paul again and again, as I had gone through the Evangelists at Andover and, in the latter part of the time, when I had begun to exercise myself in preaching, I was in the habit of preparing the matter of every sermon by reading the whole New Testament through with reference to the subject I bad chosen.
While at Andover, I became interested in the Anti-slavery cause; and soon after I went to New Haven I took part with a few pioneer abolitionists
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 7
in the formation of one of the earliest Anti-slavery societies in the country At the same time I devoted my leisure hours to religious labor among the colored people of that city. My heart was chiefly engaged in this work during the former part of my residence there. Subsequently I became attached to a little band of revivalists, who were called the 'free church,' and took part with them in labors 'for a general awakening. When I first became acquainted with them, they scarcely numbered a dozen; and Amos Townshend was the only man among them who had any wealth or weight of character. They held their meetings in an old vestry that belonged to the centre
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dover. At that time the revival spirit of which Finney and his fellow-evangelists had been the fountains, and which was distinguished for its 'new measures' and its 'free churches,' had gathered to itself in all the principle cities a distinct body of the most zealous spiritualists, and was apparently on the verge of separating itself from its parent denominations and establishing a new sect. Its relations to 'dead orthodoxy,' as, it termed the religion of the popular churches, were not very amicable. It called too loudly for reform, to be agreeable to sleepers. As I imbibed its zeal and its discrimination I began to doubt whether true Christianity in its full saving operation was so extensively diffused in this country as I had imagined. As I lost confidence in the religion around me, and saw more and more the need there was of a re-conversion of most of those who professed Christianity my outward-bound missionary zeal declined, and my heart turned toward thoughts, desires, and projects of an internal reformation of Christendom. Quality of religion, instead of quantity, became my centre of attention
8 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I did not however at this time entirely abandon my design of going on a foreign mission. But I became so much dissatisfied with the religion of the churches, with their 'benevolent societies,' and missionary machinery, that I determined not to go under the patronage and direction of the American Board. My purpose was to remain unmarried, and to go among the heathen, either 'without scrip or purse,' or at the expense of my own patrimony. in conversation with one of the secretaries of the Board, I stated my objections to the spirit and measures of the churches and their societies, and, to my surprise, he admitted, for the most part, the truth of my views.
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I did not at once perceive with much distinctness things which this discovery was to have on the whole range of my theological views. But I felt and wrote to my friends that I had entered upon a course of departure from popular belief which would probably end in ecclesiastical 'outlawry. It will be seen hereafter what effect my new theory of the Second Coming ultimately had in preparing me for the adoption and defense of the doctrine of holiness. Its immediate consequences were, first, a great diminution of confidence in the theological authorities of the 'whole Christian church since the apostolic age; and secondly, a clear apprehension of the great truth of which I had a glimmering at Andover, that the development of Christianity was progressive - and that the destruction of Jerusalem, instead of the birth, ministry, or death of Christ, or the day of Pentecost, was the termination of Judaism and the, commencement of mature Christianity. I had been bred under the common impression that the Christian religion extended back from Christ through all preceding ages, as well as forward to the present time,
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 9
and that religious privileges and experience have remained on the same general level from Adam till this day. But I now saw that growth is a principle. of God's dispensations-that human nature under divine culture, was gradually ascending heavenward, not only before, but much more after the incarnation of Christ, - that at the end of the apostolic age, 'this world' and the 'world to come' flowed together, and the true Christian dispensation was ushered in by the glories of the Second Advent.
One of the practical results which soon followed these changes' was a great increase of faith in prayer. I reasoned thus: The. personal ministry of Christ, instead of being the noonday, was only the dawn of Christianity. - Christ himself said to his disciples, 'He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and GREATER WORKS than these shall he do because I go to the Father.' John 14: 12. Christ had healed the sick, raised the dead, and cast out devils; whenever he had prayed to the Father, the very thing he had asked was done; those who had followed him had found their faith a never-failing draft on the treasury of his power. And yet his promise to believers was that they should do 'greater works' than these, as the' growth of his kingdom advanced. Instead therefore of confining the omnipotence of the prayer of faith to Christ, or to the early period of the, Christian dispensation, I was constrained to believe. that the promise-' Whatsoever ye ask, be1ieving ye shall receive,' - was greatly enlarged in its scope, after the day of Pentecost, and is in all its fullness, the inheritance of Christians in all ages. My theory that the mighty works of Christ in his personal ministry, pertaining as they did chiefly to the bodies of men, were, like the whole Jewish dispensation under which they were performed, only 'shadows of good things to come;' and that the substance was seen - the 'greater works' were performed when the apostles began to heal the spiritually sick, and raise the 'dead in trespasses and sins,' - in short, when the power of Christ was applied to mens souls. Now as souls need miraculous healing as much in all ages as in any, I repudiated the maxim that 'the age of miracles is past,' and maintained that believers now, as in the primitive church, are commissioned to ask and expect power to do greater works than Christ did, just so far as they are commissioned to save souls. On these grounds, I claimed a share in promises of specific answers to prayer, and contended zealously among all my acquaintances, for that kind of faith which expects the very thing it asks for. I wrote a long discourse on the prayer of faith in which the preceding views were embodied, including my theory that Christianity was not born till the destruction of Jerusalem, and read it to Dr Taylor. He appeared pleased with it at that time, though he subsequently disowned all fellowship with my 'notions.'
In consequence of my zeal for the prayer of faith, I committed an indiscretion which, threatened to bring me into difficulty with the college authorities. I was in the habit of freely expressing my opinion that the greater part of what is called prayer among religionists, is little better than solemn mockery. On a certain occasion, a fellow-student, who was not very friendly to me or my views, asked me, in the presence of several other persons, what I thought of the prayers which President Day offered in the college chapel every night and morning. I said that in my view they were 'very good
2
10 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
moral discourses, edifying religious talk-but-no prayers at all.' This was reported to some of the Faculty, and probably to Pres. Day himself. The consequence was that I received an admonitory visit from Tutor Day, the President's nephew. I confessed to him that my remark was indiscreet, and the affair passed over.
In August 1833, my class received licenses to preach. In the course of the examination before the Association, I was drawn into two long and warm controversies,, on points of doctrine - one with Dr. Taylor on the question of the 'double sense' of scripture, he holding the affirmative, and I, as a disciple of Prof. Stuart, the negative; the other with Dr. Bacon, on the subject of the prayer of faith. Nevertheless, I received my license with the rest.
During the vacation of six weeks which followed, I labored as pastor of a little church in North Salem, N. Y. The first time I preached, I read a written sermon - a thing which I never did afterward. My way was to study subjects by reading through the New Testament, and then preach without notes, or with only a 'skeleton.' I preached, on an average, six times a week, and visited daily from house to house. My labors were very profitable to myself in various ways; but I did not succeed in attaining my heart's desire - a glowing revival; though we had some pleasant foretastes of such a season. At the close of my engagement, I received twenty five dollars for my services. This, with seven dollars that I afterward received for preaching a Sabbath in one of the churches at Middletown, was all the pay I ever received for ministerial labor. (See Appendix B.)
During the Autumn of 1833, my spirit rapidly increased in strength. By constant fellowship and conversation with Boyle, Dutton, (a disciple of the famous revivalist Horatio Foot,) and other zealous young men of the 'new measure school,' who had recently joined the seminary, by reading such books as the life of J. B. Taylor, and Wesley on Christian Perfection, as well as by much study of the Bible and fervent prayer, my heart was kept in steady and accelerating progression toward perfect holiness.
Soon after my return from North Salem I had occasion, with the rest of my class, to make a skeleton of a sermon for examination by Dr. Fitch, on a text given out by him, viz. Phil. 3: 13, 14. 'Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.' The passage harmonized well with the state of my mind, and in studying it, I received a new baptism of zeal. The train of thought sketched in the skeleton which I handed in, was summed up at the end in these words,-' Paul sought a PERFECT object, by PERFECT means, with PERFECT energy.' The Doctor smiled at the repetition of the word perfect, but made no objection.
In the course of Boyle's preaching he frequently threw out the idea that persecution is the test of faithfulness in all cases, and especially in the case of ministers. This was a favorite maxim of the 'new measure' school generally. I embraced it cordially, and promulgated it as far as possible among the students of the seminary. It met with opposition, and caused many disputations and much ferment. I read a long article on the subject before the society of the seminary, in which I adduced the whole testimony of the Bible to the truth that 'they who will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer perse-
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 11
cution.' I insisted that the seed of the woman, in bruising the serpent's head, must always suffer the bruise of the serpent's fangs in his own heel-that Bible religion can no more live in a world of sin without being persecuted than fire can live in water without being disturbed by it. The excitement on the subject ran so high, that a debate was appointed, and Dr. Taylor was called in to give his opinion. After much discussion he decided the question in the negative - alleging the experience of the best ministers in Connecticut as illustrations of his position, that persecution in this country does not always follow faithfulness. In the course of this controversy I settled in my heart a principle which abides with me to this day, viz. that I will never expect or desire to be treated in this word better than Jesus Christ and his gospel are treated. (See John 15: 18-20.);
During the whole fall and winter, the seminary was constantly agitated by discussions, private and public, on subjects similar to that above noticed. Dr. Taylor was generally called in as arbitrator, and generally took ai~8 with the conservatives, against the doctrines of the more zealous part of the school. I acknowledge, however, to his credit, that he laid no obstacle in the way of free discussion, and that he exhorted us to 'follow the truth, though it should cut our heads off.' Dutton stood by me faithfully through the whole warfare; and, indeed, he was the only man with whom I had full sympathy at that time. Our hearts were knit together with a love 'passing the love of women.'
The subject of perfect holiness was frequently touched; upon in conversation between Boyle, Dutton, and myself. Dutton's reports of the testimony of John B. Foote, and the letters which he occasionally received from his sister, excited much interest in my mind. The usual objections to the doctrine of perfection, at first stood in my way. But they gradually disappeared. The new views which I had attained of the Second Coming, and of the progressive nature of God's dispensations, relieved me of the difficulty arising from the fact that the Old Testament saints were not perfect. I saw that the measure of grace enjoyed under the Jewish dispensation was no standard for Christians, and that even the disciples before the day of Pentecost, were not to be regarded as ripe specimens of Christianity. Prof. Stuart had taught me how to dispose of the 7th chapter of Romans. The objection which seemed strongest and remained last, was the confession of Paul - 'Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect,' &c. Phil.3:12. While ruminating on this text, it suddenly occurred to me that there were several passages in which Christ was said to have been perfected. I immediately turned to Heb. 2:10, 5:8, 9, and Luke 13:32, and found that in each of these instances, the word perfect is used in connection with the idea of suffering, just as it is in Paul's confession. Christ, ' though he was a son,' and of course perfectly holy, yet needed to learn obedience, and to be made perfect by suffering. 'The obvious inference was, that Paul might have been perfectly holy, though he yet needed to be made perfect by 'fellowship with the sufferings' of Christ. I saw plainly that Paul was not speaking of perfect holiness, but of perfection by suffering, or perfect experience. The difficulty was entirely removed, and I was set free from all scriptural hindrances to the attainment of perfect holiness.
From this time, (which was as early as Nov. 1833,) I began to advocate
12 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the doctrine of perfection in the seminary, and among my acquaintances. - The theology of Dr. Taylor, affirming as it does, man's entire ability to meet the demands of the divine law, gave an excellent opening to my theory. Dr. Taylor himself had at one time expressly declared himself in favor of preaching perfect holiness. The seminary was not frightened at the word perfection. In our devotional meetings, which were at that time very interesting, I declared my belief that the time was coining when perfection-revivals would sweep over the churches, as ordinary revivals had swept over the ranks of the impenitent; and I proposed to the students this trying question
'If we preach to sinners their ability to repent, and the obligation of immediate submission to God, why ought we not to lay to heart our ability to be perfectly holy, and the obligation of immediate conformity to the whole demand of the law?'
At last I prepared and read before the society of the seminary, an elaborate essay on 'the question - ' Why does not the Christian church at the present day advance as rapidly as the primitive church did toward the conquest of the world?' My answer, in substance, was this: -1. The primitive church freely and earnestly preached the doctrine of perfection; whereas modern churches have fallen back upon the 7th chapter of Romans, and are afraid to say any thing about perfection. 2. The primitive church took hold on the full strength of God by the prayer of faith; whereas modern churches think that the age of miracles is past,' and therefore dare not expect actual and immediate answers to their prayers. 3. The primitive church relied first on personal holiness, secondly on prayer, and thirdly on preaching, as the mean of converting the world. The apostles first yielded themselves wholly to God: then with their right hand they laid hold on his strength, and with their left hand they drew men out of the mire of sin. Whereas the modern churches, reversing the order, rely first on preaching, secondly on prayer, and lastly on personal holiness. Their ministers, without giving much attention to their own holiness, and with little confidence in the efficacy of prayer, lay hold on sinners with both hands. Having nothing to support them, it is not strange that instead of pulling sinners out of the mire they are often pulled into it themselves. In conclusion I proposed, for our motto, and as a memorial of the order in which the three great subjects ought to stand in our minds, the words - 'PERFECTION, PRAYER, PREACHING.' All this, though it caused excitement and interesting discussions in the seminary, raised no alarm of heresy.
In the meantime the free church was on its way toward the issue of Perfectionism. Boyle was laboring with all his might to bring its members under conviction. A revival, that promised to shake the whole city, had commenced. It began in a meeting which was held on Saturday evenings at a private house on Elm street. The first convert was a young man by the name of Merwin. At one of the meetings he was convicted; and Dutton, in the bold way which he had learned in his service with the revivalist, Horatio Foot, immediately commenced an open conversation with him, and insisted, before the whole assembly, that he should immediately submit to God. Much excitement prevailed in the congregation. The young man hesitated long. But Dutton persevered, and by dint of cool reasoning on the one
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 13
hand, and warm praying on the other, he at last conquered. Merwin broke down and professed submission on the spot Thenceforward the revival steadily advanced. The Saturday evening meetings were crowded, and every meeting was crowned with conversions. Boyle gave charge of those meetings to Dutton and myself Our method of proceeding was this: I preached the regular discourse; Dutton followed with an exhortation; and at the close of the meeting, those who were desirous of conversation were invited to remain. A dozen or more would usually stop; and it was rare that any of them went away at last without professing conversion. We made it a point never to leave those who fell into our hands, till they submitted. I held several other weekly meetings in different parts of the city, at the same time, and with similar results. The meetings in Meadow street were specially interesting and successful. My heart was much engaged in these labors. It will be seen hereafter what effect they had in preparing me for Perfectionism.
My narrative has now arrived at the highest point of my experience under the dispensation on which I entered at my first conversion. It may be well before entering on the account of my second conversion, to give a summary sketch of the state of my inner man at this period.
By systematic temperance, fasting, exercise and prayer, I had satisfactorily overcome the bodily infirmities which troubled me at Andover. I was no longer tormented with inordinate alimentiveness, and other temptations to sensuality. I had conquered my nervous system, which for a long time after my first religious agitation had been morbidly excitable. I could now study intensely, twelve or even sixteen hours in a day, without injury. Preaching, which once would shake and disorder my nerves, had become a delight and refreshment to me. I was constantly cheerful, and often very happy. My chief delight, next to that of communing with Christ through the scriptures, was in prayer. I was in the habit of spending not less than three hours in my closet daily. In those seasons, I could truly say that I entered 'into the secret place of the Most High, and abode under the shadow of the Almighty.' The spirit of love blotted out my transgressions, wiped away my tears, and 'filled me with unutterable bliss. Many times, and for days together, my heart was so burdened with spiritual joy, that my body became weak and pined away.- I record these facts, not in the spirit of boasting, but rather that I may show how much religion I had to give up, when subsequently 'judgment was laid to the line, and righteousness to the plummet.' (See Acts 22: 3.Gal. 1: 14. Phil. 3: 4-7.)
'The reaction upon myself, of my labors to convert others, in the revival at New Haven, was the immediate cause of my conviction and conversion to Perfectionism. In searching the scriptures for truths adapted to pierce the hearts of the impenitent, I was found at last pierced and writhing on the points of those very truths myself. Every discourse I preached came back upon me with all its convicting power. I knew I was a sinner myself; and I could not 'preach to sinners' without classing myself among them and sinking with them into condemnation. I felt in my inmost soul that the hand of God was upon me, and that lie was making use of that revival, and of my labors, not merely to convert others, but to convert myself.
I well remember one discourse which I preached, in different places, four
14 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
times within a few weeks, and every time with an increasing weight of self-application. The text was Prov. 28:13; 'He that covereth his sins shall not prosper; but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall find mercy.' - The train of thought was this: The antithesis of covering sin, is confessing and forsaking sin. Mere confession is not enough. If men do not forsake their sins, they cover them, though they may confess them ever so much. In fact, confession of sin in the common way, i.e. without forsaking it, is the most ingenious and satisfactory way of covering' it. When a man's sins lie before him in all their hatefulness, what better way can he take to cover them, than to spread a neat white confession over them? This hides their deformity from himself and his fellow-men. But God sees through the cover, and must abhor this whole system of sinning and confessing, and sinning again, which prevails in the churches. Common sense, as applied to the dealings of men with each other, repudiates it. If a man steals from you to-day, and afterward confesses it, you forgive him. But if he steals again to-morrow, and again confesses it, you begin to distrust him. Perhaps however you forgive him the second time. But if he steals the third day, and confesses the third time, even with tears, you account his confession as bad as his theft - an insult added to injury - a cover of iniquity. Yet this is the way that men who profess to be religious are dealing with God all over the land. From day to day, from sabbath to sabbath, from year to year, in the closet, the family, and the church, they confess the same sins over and over, and never forsake them - never expect to forsake them. The thought I have thus sketched was like a barbed arrow in my heart. Every time I handled it, it entered deeper. It brought me into an agony of conviction, from which I knew there was no escape, except by the abandonment, once for all, of the whole body of sin. This same discourse also took away Dutton's old 'hope,' and placed him with me in the condition of a convicted sinner.
All this might have resulted in no decisive change, if I had not previously seen the way open into perfect holiness. But, with clear views on this subject, I found the whole force of my convictions of sin, impelling me toward a radical spiritual revolution. Yet I knew I had been converted before in some sense, and that I had served God with zeal and enjoyed much of his spiritual favor. 'How can it be,' I asked myself, 'that I must give up the past, and be converted again?' It may be useful to present an outline of the reasonings which removed my difficulties on this point. I perceived that there are three distinct states of the heart, viz: 1. A state in which a preponderance of the affections is toward the world; this is irreligion 2. A state in which, a preponderance of the affections is toward God, though more or less attachment to the world still remains. This is ordinary sinful religion In this state, the subject may be conscious that he loves God more than any other object, and that in case of a direct, palpable conflict between his allegiance to God, and his affection for any other object, he would sacrifice the latter. Yet he may sin from time to time, because his love of God is not the affection of his whole heart, but only a 'supreme or governing purpose,' which is consistent with other and opposite affections; and in multitudes of ordinary cases, he may be deceived by these sinful affections, without consciously sacrificing his allegiance to God. This I called the 'double-minded' state.
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 15
(See James 4:8.) 3. A state in which all the affections of the heart are given to God. In this state there is no seditious minority of the affections to embarrass and occasionally defeat the 'governing purpose.' Of course there is no sin. This is certainly the state of the saints in heaven; and I was satisfied that it is attainable on earth, and that there were some in the primitive church who did attain it. I saw that the second of the states above described, though it may be very valuable as a preparation for ultimate holiness, is no more conformable to the law (which requires the whole heart) than the first. It was evident to me also that the transition from the 'double-minded' state to perfect holiness, requires a radical conversion, as really as the transition from impenitence to the 'double-minded' state. Thus I learned to turn my back on my first conversion, and press toward a second.
Still the question would arise, 'How shall I dispose of my blessed experience of God's love? Has he been approving me as a sinner, or has my supposed communion with him been a delusion?' I found a satisfactory answer to these queries in the following passages: 'He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.' Matt. 5:45. 'Despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long-suffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?' Rom. 2:4. I discovered that the principle involved in these sayings, is as applicable to spiritual as to physical blessings - that I had no more right to infer God's approbation of my moral state, from the fact that he had sent the sunshine and the rain of his Spirit upon me, than the wicked of the world have to infer his approval of them because he gives them literal sunshine and rain. I saw that in my case as well as in theirs, the design of the 'goodness' of God' was not to establish self-contentment, but to 'lead to repentance.' As he had given me temporal blessings when I was wholly a worlding, that he might effect my first conversion, so he had given me spiritual blessings in my sinful-religious state, that he might prepare me for conversion to perfect holiness.
In connection with these reasonings I became much interested in a theory
of a twofold Christian experience, which I discovered in the 16th chapter of John, from the 23d to the 27th verse. The reader will perceive there that Christ intimated to his disciples that previous to that time they had not had access to the 'Father, but had prayed to himself; and he had prayed tho Father for them. But he assured them that in a future stage of experience, they would, come directly to the Father, without his intervention, i.e. they would not pray to him, but to the Father, in his name, as being members of him. I inferred from this that believers in their primary state are not in Christ, but stand in an external relation to him, so that he stands between them and the Father, and their prayers are directed to him, and by him presented to the Father; whereas in a higher stage of experience, they become one him, and in him have immediate access to the Father. I noticed also Christ represented the transition from the first to the second of these states as a sorrowful agony, like that of child-birth. (See verse 20-22.) The disciples, though they had forsaken all and followed Christ, and though they had enjoyed much of his presence and instruction; and had partaken of his spiritual power, were yet only with him, not in him, and had yet the trav-
16 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
all of the second birth to go through, before they could pray in his name and have open access to God. The reader will easily understand how this view reconciled me to the idea that after all my experience, the strait gate of true regeneration was yet before me.
At fast the pressure of conviction became so great, that I lost all relish for the revival labors in which I was engaged; not because I cared less for souls, but because I felt that it was folly to try to save others, while I myself was not saved. At one of the meetings I stated, with all sincerity, my views of my case, and remarked that the 'sinners' to whom I had preached, if they could know my situation, might fairly say to me-' Physician, heal thyself,' 'first cast the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast the mote out of thy brother's eye.' From that time I withdrew from public effort, as far as I could consistently with my positive engagements, and gave myself up to prayer, searching the scriptures, and inquiry after salvation from sin. My appetite forsook me, and for a week before I found peace, I took but very little food. (See Appendix C.)
The law-' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God WITH ALL THY HEART' - ever before my mind as the only standard of righteousness-the very beginning of all virtue. In the blaze of that law, all my works and experiences and hopes faded into vanity. Without that law I had been alive, but now the commandment had come, sin had revived, and I was dying. The depths of my heart disclosed themselves. I saw immeasurable wickedness within me. Considering the light and privileges I had enjoyed, it seemed to me that I was indeed the very 'chief of sinners,' blacker with guilt than even the devils in the lowest hell. I loathed my life, and desired rather to die and go to judgment at once, even if I were to be damned, than go on in sin, treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath.
The question with me was not, How shall I get relief from this distress? or how shall I be saved at last from hell? but, How shall I now fulfill the righteousness of the law? The solution of this question, though now it seems very ,simple, was then a matter of great difficulty. The ideas of faith ,which were circulating in the religious community in that day were very few and meagre. My attention had never been directed to the subject as one of fundamental interest in relation to salvation from sin. I had been trained in the new measure doctrine about 'submitting the will to God,' making benevolence the 'governing purpose,' &c., and it was long before I died to those doctrines and awoke to a clear conception of the nature and power of faith as a medium of righteousness.
The circumstance which finally fixed my eye on this subject, was this:- Dutton, who had gone hand in hand with me into the 'dark valley' of conviction, was telling me one day something about the Albany Perfectionists, and, among other things, mentioned that they made great account of faith. The remark caught my attention, and I immediately took the New Testament, and went through it, noting all I found on the subject of faith. At the end of the examination I was greatly astonished at the magnitude of that subject, as exhibited in the Bible, and at my own ignorance of it hitherto. In the gospels, I found Christ always speaking to those who sought his help, in this manner: 'If thou canst b~elieve, thou shalt be made whole.' 'Accor
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 17
ding to thy faith be it unto thee.' ' Thy faith hath made thee whole. 'O woman, great is thy faith.' In all the epistles I saw the same idea of the agency of faith, transferred from bodily to spiritual therapeutics. In a word, I was convinced that faith occupies the, same central place in Bible theology, as 'governing purposes' occupy in the system of the New School and new measure men. This was the beginning of daylight to my soul.
But it was only the beginning. Though I had thus found the clue of faith, I had not yet reached the resting place to which it leads. It is one thing to know that faith~ is the medium of salvation, and it is another to actually believe. My heart still anxiously pondered the question- 'How shall I get this faith?' I felt like one groping for a door, in the dark, without a guide. Sometimes I looked wistfully toward Albany, and almost resolved to go and see John B. Foote or some other person, who, I supposed, had experience of faith. In this state of mind Dutton and I sought out an old woman whom I had met under singular circumstances some time before in a morning prayer meeting. She was reported crazy, and Dutton thought this a sign in her fervor, as the western Perfectionists were generally accounted crazy. Our interview with her was not very satisfactory. She appeared to be really deranged. Her remarks about believing, however, had a good effect on my mind. She would enter into no explanations, but treated our difficulties as contemptible. 'Oh (said she) if you cannot believe what God says, you cannot expect any thing.' This was the right answer to our inquiries, whether the credit of it is due to her sagacity or not. The difficulty of believing is certainly not to be removed by philosophical instructions. It is so easy and simple a thing to take God's word, that the babes and sucklings whom he has taught to believe, may well regard the difficulties of inquiring unbelievers as contemptible.
On the evening of the same day I was under the necessity of attending an inquiry meeting at Mr. Benjamin's in Orange street. I had no heart for the appropriate labors of the meeting. I was an almost despairing inquirer myself, and it was misery to attempt to instruct others. As I sat brooding over my difficulties and prospects, I listlessly opened my Bible, and my eye fell upon these words: 'The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the highest shall overshadow thee; therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.' The words seemed to glow upon the page, and my spirit heard a voice from heaven through them, promising me the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and the second birth. I opened the Bible again, in the spirit of Samuel when he said, 'Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth,' and these words were before me:- 'At my first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me: I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge. Notwithstanding the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me; that by me the preaching might be fully known, and that all the Gentiles might hear: and I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion. And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve me unto his heavenly kingdom: to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.' Again my soul drank in a spiritual promise, appropriate to my situation, - an assurance of everlasting victory. Once more I opened the book, and these words met my view. 'Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people all the words
18 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
of this life.' I closed the book and went home with hopeful fee1ings,- believing that I had conversed with God, that my course was marked out, that I was on the verge of the salvation which I sought. Insignificant as these facts may seem to some, they will be interesting to others, as showing the method which God, in his all-directing providence, took to raise my faith above the letter of the Bible into his spiritual word, and assure me of his personal presence, and minute attention to my case.
Faith, as a grain of mustard seed, was in my heart; but its expansion into full consciousness of spiritual life and peace, yet required another step, viz. confession. The next morning I recurred to the passage which had been my guide in my first conversion, viz. Rom.10:7-10, and saw in it-what I had not seen distinctly before-the power of Christ's resurrection as the centre-point of faith, and the necessity of confession as the complement of inward belief. As I reflected on this last point, it flashed across my mind that the work was done, that Christ was in me with the power of his resurrection, and that it only remained for me to confess it before the world in order to enjoy the consciousness of it. I determined at once to confess Christ in me a Savior from sin, at all hazards; and though I did not immediately have all the feelings which I hoped for, I knew I was walking in the truth, and went forward fearlessly and with hopeful peace.
It fell to my lot to preach that evening at the free church. I prepared myself during the day for an unflinching testimony against all sin. When I announced from the desk my text - 'He that committeth sin is of the devil' - I felt, and I doubt not the audience felt, that I was entering upon a new field of theology. I insisted upon the literal meaning of the text, and did my best to prove that sinners' are not Christians. I said nothing about my own state, but I knew that my testimony would be thrust back upon me, and that I should consequently be obliged to confess myself saved from sin. So in fact it proved, as will be seen in the sequel.
I went home with a feeling that I had committed myself irreversibly, and, on my bed that night, I received the baptism which I desired and expected. Three times in quick succession a stream of eternal love gushed through my heart and rolled back again to its source. 'Joy unspeakable and full of glory' filled my soul. All fear and doubt and condemnation passed away. I knew that my heart was clean, and that the Father and the Son had come and made it their abode.
The next morning one of the theological students who had heard my discourse at the free church the evening before, came to labor with me in relation to it. He thought it altogether too stringent, and wished to know if I really meant as I said, that a sinner cannot be a Christian. I assured him that I did so mean. Then came the argumentum ad hominen as I expected. 'Well,' said he, 'if this is your doctrine, you unchurch yourself as well as others. Don't you commit sin'?' It was a greater thing to confess holiness in those days than it is now. I knew that my answer would plunge me into the depths of contempt: but I answered deliberately and firmly - 'No.' The man stared as though a thunderbolt had fallen before him. At first he seemed to doubt his own senses, and asked the question again. When I had convinced him that I actually professed to be free from sin, he went away to
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.19
tell the news: and within a few hours the word passed through the college and the city - 'Noyes says he is perfect;' and on the heels of this went the report - ' Noyes is crazy.' Thus my confession was made, and I began to suffer the consequences.
Having sketched, in detail, the process by which I became a Perfectionist it may be well now to look back and take a brief general survey of the physical and moral influences which contributed to this result.
1. I was quite young when I went through the experience which I have recorded, being but twenty years of age when I was first converted, and little more than twenty-two when I embraced holiness.
2. Previous to my first conversion, while I was at college and in the study of law, the energy of my heart, and mind had never been drawn out - I was a bashful boy, without any clear, strong purpose of life. Though I studied diligently, and obtained some honors, my ambition was never awakened by college emulation. It was not till I became religious that I began to feel and exercise the strength of manhood. I brought therefore to the study of the Bible and the other religions pursuits which I have described, the full vigor and freshness of the heart in its first love.
3. The glowing spirit 'of the time when I became religious, and indeed of the whole period between my first and second conversion, (i.e. from 1831 to 1834,) was eminently adapted to sustain and increase the energy with which I entered upon religious life.
4. The zeal naturally engendered by these circumstances, expended itself almost exclusively in the investigation of the Bible. At Andover I was stimulated and directed in this study by Stuart and Robinson, the best biblical critics of the age; and by going to New Haven the second year, I had opportunity to continue the pursuit of it, and at the same time had the benefit of Dr. Taylor's metaphysics, (which were very favorable to the course I was pursuing,) and the free atmosphere of a 'heretical' seminary.
5. During my whole course of biblical study, I had an instinctive aversion to the common practice of committing one's self to the guidance of commentators. Spiritual life, rather than intellectual treasure, was the object I sought; and I found the way to obtain this was to converse with the Spirit of truth about the Bible, in meditation and prayer, instead of running much to human commentators.
6. During the whole of my theological course I was kept by what I now regard as the good Providence of God, from forming any such intimacies with the Professors, and other distinguished men with whom I came in contact, as would have drawn me into adhesion to their systems.
7. The period between my first and second conversion, during which I was exposed to the influence of denominational and school theology, was short. I was first converted in September 1831, and I 'graduated' as a Perfectionist in the latter part of February 1834. If my transition had been less rapid, and I had been allowed to remain long enough in the sanctuary of Congregationalism to 'get fairly settled,' the result might have been very different.
8. My pecuniary circumstances were favorable to my independence. I was not kept in check by fear of losing my living.
20 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
The reflecting reader will perceive that the tendency of my circumstances was to impel me forward in a course of biblical investigation with enthusiastic ardor, and at the same time to keep me free from the binding (or as some would say, conservative) influences of human teachers, and associations. - Persons who believe that my course ended in a damnable heresy, ' will think the see in those circumstances the appropriate causes of an erratic course. 'A young and fiery spirit,' they may say, 'inflamed by the revival atmosphere of 1831, spurning the judgment of commentators, and the paternal influence of great men, very naturally broke loose from the standards of established religion, and plunged into insane heresies.' But on the other hand they who believe that the result to which I came was glorious truth, will see in those same circumstances the appropriate causes of that energy and independence of thought which was necessary to the attainment of that result. They may say, - 'In undertaking to introduce the gospel of perfect holiness, God chose the right man, at the right time, and placed him in the right circumstances; for, one whose heart was not in the ardor of youth, who could not be strained up to the highest pitch of spiritual energy, and who had not self-reliance enough to keep him from adhesion to the systems of the schools, would have stuck by the way, and never would have gone through in the face of the wrath of the church, 'into the faith and confession of a perfect salvation. (See Appendix D.)
My first effort, after I reached the shore of peace, was to help Bro. Dutton out of the 'deep waters.' I labored much to convince him of the truth of the saying - 'God hath given to us 'eternal life.' He assented to all I said, but could not realize and confess ' eternal life' in himself. Indeed my exertions to save him seemed only to sink him deeper in despair. He soon left me and went to Albany.
The first person who joined me in the faith of holiness was Abigail Merwin, a member of the free church, and a sister of the young man whose singular conversion was the commencement of the revival. I had no acquaintance with her at the time when I found salvation, but had been informed a short time before, that she was under conviction and wished to have an interview with me. This occurred to my remembrance in the course of the day on which I made my confession as recorded on a previous page, and I immediately called on Mr. Benjamin, her brother-in-law, with whom she resided, and was introduced to her. She appeared to be in perplexity, and eager for the truth. After a very few preliminary inquiries and explanations, I put to her the question- 'Will you receive Christ as a WHOLE SAVIOR, and confess him before the world?' She answered promptly - 'I will.' Immediately a manifest change came over her spirit. Her countenance began to beam with joy. She said afterward that she received at this time baptism of the glory of; God, which so overwhelmed her that she seemed on the point of passing to the other world.
The next morning, at the prayer meeting which she as well as I usually attended, I stood up with a hymn-book in my hand, and remarked to the audience that I was about to read a hymn which we had often sung with the mouth, but never with the heart. I requested that all who could now sing it
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 21
in earnest, realizing and appropriating its sentiments, would stand. up and sing it with me. I then read the following:
"Welcome, welcome, dear Redeemer,
Welcome to this heart of mine:
Lord, I make a full surrender,
Every power and thought be thine;
Thine entirely,
Through eternal ages thine.
Known to a1l to be thy mansion,
Earth and hell will disappear;
Or in vain attempt possession,
When they find the Lord is near;-
Shout, O Zion!
Shout, ye saints, the Lord is here!"
Abigail Merwin and one other female stood up, and we sung the hymn together. Thus she publicly confessed holiness. From this time she made very rapid advances in the knowledge of Bible-truth. She had a surprising readiness of apprehension, and facility of communication. Her testimony was bold, and yet modest. Her power of argument, and her position as my first convert, placed her with me in the front of the battle, and in the full glare of the public gaze; and she nobly sustained the trial. Even the enemies of the doctrine she advocated, admired the serenity of her spirit and the clearness of her mind. Her influence, more than any thing else, opened for me an entrance into the free church, and ultimately enabled me to overcome the hostility of Boyle. Her brother-in-law, Benjamin, (who was deacon of the free church,) with his wife, and her own brother, ('Dutton's convert,') immediately followed her in the profession and advocacy of holiness. Thus a stand-point was gained, and the doctrine for a time had complete ascendency over the church. Its leading men were taken by surprise; and until they had time to recover themselves by consultation with higher theologians, they were compelled to bow the knee to the truth. Even Townshend, the father of the free church, was among the anxious inquirers; and Cook, the publisher of the Christian Spectator, actually made a partial and temporary profession of holiness. It may well be imagined that such a movement produced much excitement in New Haven, and that the sound of it went widely abroad over the land.
In the meantime I was busily engaged in circulating my new views in other ways. I wrote letters, giving an account of my experience, to an extensive circle of friends with whom I was in correspondence. (The reader will find a specimen in Appendix E.) On the morning of my confession, I received by mail invitations to preach, from three distant places - one from a church which was about to hold a protracted meeting and the others from churches which wished to settle a minister. In reply to these proposals, I defined my new position, and stated that the change of my views was such that the applicants would probably not wish to employ me. I wrote to the missionary brethren at Andover, withdrawing my pledge to go on a foreign mission, and briefly stating my reasons. This drew from Champion (the missionary who afterward went to Africa) an expostulatory reply asking for
22 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
more full explanation of my course. I wrote again, stating that I felt bound to withdraw my pledge for three reasons :-lst, because I now knew I was not a Christian when I made it; 2d, because I had discovered that God was my owner and had the right to direct me by his Spirit, and therefore I had no right to let myself unreservedly to the missionary society; 3d, because I saw that I was already on missionary ground, among a people who (though professedly Christian) needed to be converted quite as much as the heathen. This correspondence and other means of report, communicated much of the agitation which existed at New Haven to the theological seminary at Andover.
At the same time I set the press to work in the business of scattering the truth. The Sabbath before my change, I had preached at the Baptist church. Buckingham, one of the firm which afterward printed The Perfectionist, was a prominent member of that church, and was deputed by it to present me a copy of the life of Whitfield, in return for my services. Thus I became acquainted with him, and he became interested in my views. In the heat of the conflict which my confession had brought upon me, I put on paper references to all the texts I could find in the New Testament, going to prove that perfect holiness is the standard of Christianity. While I was considering how I should get this published, I remembered Buckingham, and on applying to him, found myself provided with a friendly printer. He struck off for me within a few days three successive handbills - 500 copies of each. Their titles were - "He that committeth sin is of the devil;' 'The New Covenant;' and 'The Second Coming of the Son of man.' (See Appendix F.) They were scattered through the city, and sent by mail in every direction. Abigail Merwin even despatched packages of them to missionary stations in distant parts of the world.
While these things were passing, I was engaged almost every hour, in answering inquirers and disputing with adversaries. The students of the college' and theological seminary flocked to my room - some to see the 'perfect man,' as they would go to see an elephant or any other curiosity, and others to argue me down, or puzzle me with objections. At last I was weary of being visited as a 'show,' and I told one theological student that he came to 'quiz' me, and refused to talk with' him. The report of this affair increased the belief which many were busily spreading in the city, that I was crazy. Another young man from the college called upon me, apparently to make honest inquiries, but probably from motives of curiosity. After answering his objections to the doctrine of holiness, I began to assail his conscience with the sharpest truths of the word of God. He became serious, turned pale, and at last, when his confidence in his carnal religion failed within him, he staggered back and fainted. On recovering himself; he went away and laid his case before Dr. Bacon, the pastor of the centre church, who helped him to repair his old hope. He never called on me again.
It may be interesting to those who are just entering upon the warfare of faith, to know what the state of my heart and conscience during these first days of my experience in Perfectionism. I certainly did not at this time regard myself as perfect in any such sense as excludes the expectation of discipline and improvement. On the contrary, from the very beginning, my heart's most earnest desire and prayer to God was that I might be 'made
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 23
perfect by full fellowship with the sufferings of Christ;' and from' that time till now, all my tribulations have been occasions of thanksgiving, because I have regarded them as answers to the first prayer, and as pledges of God's faithfulness in completing the work then begun. The distinction between being free from sin on the one hand, and being past all improvement on the other, however obscure it may be to some, was plain to me, as soon as I knew by experience what freedom from sin really is. To those to endeavored to confound that distinction, and to crowd me into a profession of unimprovable perfection, I said - 'I do not pretend to perfection in externals. I only claim purity of heart and the answer of a good conscience toward God. A book may be true and perfect in sentiment, and yet be deficient in graces of style and typographical accuracy.'
The sentiment of Paul, - 'Ye are not under law, but under grace,' was an instinct of my heart, rather than a theory in my head, at this time. I knew that my justification came at first, not by my own obedience to law, but by the infusion of the Spirit; and to the same agency I looked for its continuance. When those with whom I disputed talked about the vast breadth of the law, criticised the minutiae of my outward conduct, and taunted me with sin, if I could not satisfy them, I was content to feel that God's method of dealing with me was not like theirs. I perceived that his eye was on the root and not on the branches of my character; and my own eye instinctively turned the same way; though my previous training had tended to make me exceedingly scrupulous about externals. With the consciousness of his approbation in my heart, I could not stand as a culprit at the bar of the law, or torment myself with doubtful disputations of conscience, however strenuously my adversaries, visible and invisible, labored to bring me into the snare.
Once only, for a moment, I was on the verge of condemnation. The occasion of my trouble, however, was not any apparent breach of the common rules of legality, but an affair of quite an opposite character. I found, from the time when I yielded my whole heart to God, that the Spirit which had taken possession of me, was jealous of the formal machinery of religion in which I had hitherto worked. My old conscience told me to get down on my knees three or four times in a day, and pray by the hour together, as I used to do; But the Spirit manifestly opposed this dictation, and I found myself constrained to refuse going through the usual vocal ceremonies, both in private circles, and in a public meeting. The contention between my old conscience and the dictates of the Spirit, at last came to a crisis, in the following manner. While on my way one evening, soon after my conversion, to attend a meeting, which I was previously engaged to conduct, I was considering what course I should take on the occasion ; and I found myself strongly inclined by my old habits to go through the usual forms, preach to 'sinners,' and try to get up a revival excitement. But something in my heart resisted this impulse: I felt that God was jealous. His Spirit seemed to withdraw, and my heart felt the torture of an infinite void. I realized the meaning of those words - 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me." My body was so weak that I stood still in the street, and almost fainted. But it was but for a moment. My heart looked upward as it sunk, and immediately I found myself again in the keeping of everlasting love. And now my old conscience was
24 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
gone. Its questioning no longer interfered with the dictates of my spiritual guide. I conducted the meeting with a simplicity which was evidently mortifying to my old revival friends, took the occasion to confess and preach salvation from sin, and went home with a feeling which a child may be supposed to have, when it is fairly weaned from its mother.
I had in those days, abundant evidence of God's providential care over me; 'good luck,' as the world would call it, met me at every turn. I had also a vivid consciousness of the presence of God in my heart. Paul's testimony - 'I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,' was mine. With these blessings around and within me, I had very naturally a feeling of buoyancy and exultation, which exhibited itself in my demeanor. Some that watched for evil, said I was proud. I told them 'It was true; I was proud, not of myself, but of God.'
Mr. Boyle was absent at a protracted meeting in Hartford, when I began the testimony of holiness. On his return he set himself to counteract my operations in his church. He preached on the text which I had handled - 'He that committeth sin is of the devil'-and endeavored to subvert the doctrine which I bad built upon it. He prayed against the disturbing influences which were coming in upon his flock. At length I called upon him,. Our interview was to me one of fearful interest. I respected and loved him, and I was afraid he would reject the truth. I knew that he had great influence over his church, and I dreaded his opposition. He treated me with a good degree of politeness, but resisted my testimony. My feelings were especially tender in relation to him, and his cold words were as daggers to my heart. Finally, as I was turning to leave, I asked him if he would examine the subject. A new spirit seemed then to come upon him. He answered 'I will;' and we parted with kind words, and hopes of continued fellowship. Thenceforth he ceased to oppose me, began to advocate the theory of holiness, and after some weeks confessed himself saved from Sin.
Soon after this interview he requested me to visit among his church members, and gave me several of their names and places of residence. I traveled the streets on this business till my feet were blistered. At length Amos Townshend, who at this time had recovered his equilibrium, and was beginning to see the necessity of taking active measures to stop the fire I was scattering, sent me notice of a vote of the church, requesting me to discontinue my communications with its members. I immediately complied with this request.
The flood of contention which poured in upon me from the college' and seminary, kept my intellectual powers in a state of intense energy for several weeks. I never grew faster than at that time. A feeling of fearful responsibility rested upon me. It seemed as though God, in giving me the treasure of the gospel, had placed me in the midst of the keenest and fiercest disputers of this world, that its defensibility might be thoroughly tested. I felt that I must fairly answer every fair objection to the doctrine of holiness, or sink myself. If I did not satisfy objectors, I generally silenced them; and at all events I got hold of the truth for myself in the struggle.
The distinction between the Jewish and Christian dispensations, became clear in my mind, and with it I swept away all difficulties in the Old Testa-
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 25
ment. By extending the Jewish dispensation forward to the day of Pentecost, the sins of the disciples, while Christ was in the flesh, were disposed of. - Then came the tug of war. The sins evidently charged upon the primitive believers, after the day of Pentecost, gave me more trouble than any thing; else. But I soon saw that the apostolic age was a transition period, during which the Old Covenant was going out and the New Covenant coming in; and I took my stand on the latter part of that period. John's epistle, written when the New Covenant was fully developed, was my strong-hold. His saying -'The darkness is past, the true light now shineth -solved many a mystery. And still beyond all this I had a never-failing refuge in the doctrine of the Second Coming. When hard pressed with objections drawn from the sins of the apostolic age, I could always recur to this sweeping answer:- Even if the Bible leaves it in doubt whether any of the saints of the apostolic age were perfect, it still predicts the advent of the New Covenant and everlasting righteousness, at the end of the Jewish dispensation, when Christ came and took the throne. As we live after that era, full salvation is, accessible to us, even if it was not to the primitive church.' I know not whether I should have been able, at that time, to defend the doctrine of holiness without this final entrenchment, though I have no occasion for it now.
Within a week or two after my confession, the question whether perfect holiness is attainable in this life, was brought forward as a subject of debate in the Society of the Theological Seminary. Dr. Taylor was in the chair. - I was specially requested to open the debate by presenting a synopsis of my theory. I read the 10th chapter of Hebrews and commented on it, aiming to clear a path for my doctrine, by showing the difference between the law and the gospel. I dwelt particularly on the 10th, 14th and l6th verses, as proofs of the advent of perfection by the sacrifice of Christ. When I came to speak of objections, I made this general remark: 'Holiness is the manifest object of God in all his dealings with man, and especially in his gift of the Bible. It
ought to be presumed, therefore; that there is nothing in the Bible which by fair interpretation, can be turned against that object, be made a hindrance in the way of men's attaining it. People who go to the Bible for objections to the doctrine of holiness, go to God's own armory for weapons to fight him with.' Dr. Taylor had been growing quite uneasy, and at this point he interrupted me, saying with much heat, that my language was disrespectful, and that he would not sit in the chair, if I was to be allowed to say such things. Much excitement ensued. I stood still till it passed. A motion was made and carried that I should not be allowed to say such things. I submitted to it and then went through with what I had further to say.
I remember nothing of the debate which followed my expose, except the following circumstance. A theological student by the name of Ingersoll, from the State of New York, spoke against the doctrine of holiness, and several times in the course of his remarks, referred to the conduct of John B. Foote and the western Perfectionists, for the purpose of showing the baneful effects of their system In his first allusion to them, he said that they were in a dreadful do-nothing state, and had lost all their influence and moral power. Afterward, when he had probably forgotten this remark, on referring to them again, he said that they were agitating and dividing the churches, and scat-
4
26 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
tering their doctrines far and wide In reply to his speech, I took occasion to bring the two ends of it together, and asked him how it could be, that men who were turning the world upside down, were at the same time in a do-nothing state? - The decision of the debate by Dr. Taylor, and also by the society, was, of course, unfavorable to my views.
Not long after this, Dr. Taylor called at my room to notify me that I was aoon to be tried by the Association which licensed me. He tarried awhile, and we had a dispute of some length. He complained of me for broaching new views in the seminary without consulting him; apprised me that he had dealt with one Perfectionist before, and had convinced him of sin; and intimated that he should serve me in the same way. I appealed to my experience, confessing that I had received the Holy Spirit, and could not be turned from my course by man. He laughed my confession to scorn, asserting that it is physically impossible for any man to feel the Spirit of God. I replied that I certainly had felt the Spirit of God, not only in my soul, but in every fibre of my body. In the course of the conversation, I insisted that his own views of man's perfect ability to obey the law of God, led directly to Perfectionism. His answer in substance was, that while man is perfectly able to keep the law, and God has a perfect right to require him to do so, yet a 'gracious system,' in which perfect obedience is not required, will save a greater number than would otherwise be saved; and God, in his benevolence, has therefore adopted such a system. He said that my system was nothing but the old Wesleyan scheme which had been tried and failed; that I might find a few followers among women and ignorant people, but not among the intelligent. I observed that Boyle was a man of some intelligence, and that he had assented to my views. The doctor denied this, saying that he had conversed with Boyle a short time before, and found him not on Perfectionist ground. In reply to some suggestions of his about my being young and not so wise as himself, I claimed the advantage of him, on the ground that 'he that doeth the will of God, shall know of the doctrine.' He insisted that he had as much interest in that promise as I. Thereupon I asked him if he did not commit sin. He admitted that he did. I then repeated the text - 'He that committeth sin is of the devil.' 'You say then (said he) that I am of the devil, do you?' 'No, (said I;) you said you committed sin, and I only quoted the words from the Bible - 'He that committeth sin is of the devil.' 'Well (said he) you are a sinner now, if you was not when I came in, for you have not treated me courteously.' This I suppose was the way in which he intended to convict Me of sin, as he had done in the other case. But the plan did not succeed. I observed that the best kind of courtesy, in such a case, was plainness of speech. He then went away. This interview was certainly distressing to me, for I had great reverence, and I might say affection, for Dr. Taylor, and therefore dreaded a collision with him. But it left no sting behind. On the contrary I felt more free and peaceful afterward, as a soldier might feel after having passed the deadliest spot in the breach.
At my trial before the Association, I observed at the outset, that I had no objection to being examined in regard to my faith, but that if the object of the examination was to ascertain whether my license ought to be taken away, it was unnecessary, as I had no disposition to avail myself of their license in
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 27
preaching doctrines which I knew they did not sanction, and I would therefore resign. Dr. Taylor objected to my being permitted to resign, on the ground that it was necessary that their record should state the reason of my being silenced.' I observed that a license certainly was not a compulsory commission which they could oblige me to hold against my will. Dr. Bacon spoke in favor of my view of the matter, and it was finally agreed that I should be permitted to resign. Afterward I was requested to state my doctrines before the Association, which I did, in a discourse of considerable length Some questions were asked by Mr. Kirk of Albany, and others, and I was dismissed
The Association remained in session. Boyle sat with them by invitation. On returning to my room I found, just arrived from the press, a quantity' of the tract entitled 'Paul not carnal,' (see Berean,) which I had sent to the printer a few days before. I took a handfull, went back to the Session room, thrust them into Boyle's hand, who sat near the door, and he distributed them among the ministers.
Soon after this, Dr. Taylor called upon me again and signified to me that it was the wish of the Faculty that I should withdraw altogether from the college premises. My room was in the college chapel. My brother, who belonged to the classical department, occupied it with me. I suggested to the doctor that it would be inconvenient for me to remove my things immediately; and as my brother would continue to occupy the room, it might be well to allow me to remain till the end of the term, which was near its close. He assented, and I remained.
I had now lost my standing in the free church, in the ministry, and in the college. My good name in the great world was gone. My friends were fast falling away. I was beginning to be indeed an outcast. Yet I rejoiced and leaped for joy. Sincerely I declared that 'I was glad when I got rid of my reputation.' Some person asked me whether I should continue to preach, now that the clergy had taken away my license. I replied - 'I have taken away their license to sin, and they keep on sinning. So, though they have taken away my license to preach, I shall keep on preaching.
Charles H. Weld was living with a brother at Hartford, at the time when"" I commenced the testimony of holiness. He was a licensed minister, but in consequence of ill health of body and mind, did not attempt regular preaching. I was informed, however, that he labored as an assistant of Dr. Hawes. He was acquainted with Mr. Boyle. They conversed together about the new
doctrine, when the news of it first reached Hartford. Boyle spoke unfavorably, but Weld cautioned him to beware of rash opposition.
Some weeks afterward, Weld came to New Haven, and took lodgings with Boyle. His object was to put himself in communication with me. Boyle introduced us to each other at the close of a meeting, and gave me some account of Weld's experience. We soon became very intimate. There was much in his character that attracted my sympathy. He was profoundly versed in spiritual mysteries, was highly intellectual, and seemed to be filled with the most lovely benevolence. We were never weary of conversing with each other. I respected his apparent wisdom, and was very willing and desirous to profit by it.
28 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
I soon found that there was a tendency in him to assume a fatherly relation toward me. He received my communications on the subject of holiness, the Second Coming, &c. with readiness and deference; but criticised my manner of presenting them, as being too abrupt and alarming. He gave me to understand that he had exercised a sort of paternal supervision over Finney, Boyle, Lansing, his brother Theodore, and others: and it was not long before he established himself as privy counsellor to me. In fact it appeared from his account of his experience, that he had in a certain sense preceded me in the truth. I learned from him, that when he was at Andover some eight or ten years before, he passed through a series of singular spiritual exercises, in which full redemption of soul and body was set before him as attainable, and was promised to him on condition of his practising certain austerities for a specific period. He failed to fulfil the condition, and in consequence fell into a state of horrible despair, from the effects of which he had never entirely recovered. This experience however, gave him so much advantage in comprehending and judging my disclosures, that he considered himself as in some sense entitled to take the lead of me. I did not object, for, I certainly had no idea at that time of being a leader myself.
I perceived, however, in process of time, that his plan of softening down my testimony did not work well in his own case. He remained, day after day, a prisoner to condemnation, seeing the glory of the truth, and talking about it with abundant wisdom, but not realizing and confessing it in himself. He was like a sick doctor, under the care of another of the same profession, more healthy, but not so learned as himself. He allowed me to give him medicines, but took upon him to direct how they should be mixed and when they should be administered. He was not fond of strong, bitter doses. When saw that he was not likely to get well under my practice, modified by his directions, I began to fall back upon my own judgment, and proposed more decisive measures.
Boyle was at this time approaching the crisis of his convictions. I had an interview with him, and by a resolute effort succeeded in bringing him to a confession of Christ. The following is, an account of the scene in his own words: "The question was put to me - ' Will you take Christ as a whole Savior?' I answered with all my heart, 'I will.' Instantly, the power of God rushed upon me like a flood: the fire was kindled upon his altar, just dedicated to him, and I felt that I was introduced into a new world. Old things immediately passed away, and all things became new." Perfec. Vo1. I p. 26.
Weld was present at this interview, and was much affected by the truth that was uttered and the events that passed before him. I endeavored to bring him also to a decision, and partially succeeded. But his confession was not prompt and unequivocal, like Boyle's, and was attended with no satisfactory results. He remained some days in his usual doubtful position. At last I told him plainly that his mild method of treating his case would never effect any thing; that he must look the law of God in the face, and submit to the full pressure of the truth that 'he that committeth sin is of the devil,' He assented to what I said, and seemed willing that I should deal with him according to my own judgement.
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 29
This was on the day of the State Fast. Boyle was absent, attending a protracted meeting in a neighboring town, and had requested Weld to fill his place in the services of the day at the free church. After the conversation just mentioned, he conducted the public exercises of the forenoon in the usual manner, but with considerable embarrassment. During the inter-mission he told me that he could not preach in the afternoon, for God had made it clear to him that I ought to take his place. I replied that I had no objection to preaching in the afternoon, if the deacons of the church were willing. He went to Benjamin and Townshend, and obtained their consent. I told him that, if I preached, I should say some cruel things He bid me follow my own heart.
He went into the desk with me, and introduced me to the congregation, with a frank confession of his confidence in the truth of the doctrines I taught, and an exhortation to candor. He then took his seat among the congregation on the right side of the house. I chose for the subject of my discourse these words:- 'I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance; but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire: whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff. with unquenchable fire.' Matt. 3:11, 12. I had not premeditated at all: but my thoughts were clear, and my utterance free. My aim was to show that the ministration of Christ was far more searching and terrible than any dispensation which went before him; that he came for judgment, and that judgment comes by the spiritual revelation of those fiery truths concerning sin and holiness, which were developed by Christ and his apostles, and which are now again manifesting themselves; that we are living, not in the dispensation of water, but in the dispensation of the Holy Ghost and of fire; that we are on the floor of Christ, and his fan is waving over us; that his Spirit and gospel ar~e among us, separating the chaff from the wheat, and soon we shall be in the garner or in the fire.
In the midst of my discourse I was interrupted by a strange sound. I looked around and saw Weld sitting with his eyes closed, his countenance' black with horror, his hands waving up and down, and his lungs laboring with long and rattling breaths. The congregation was in great agitation; many rose from their seats; some left the house. I spoke to Weld, but he made no answer. His paroxysm grew worse. His breathing became a frightful roar. The waving of his hands increased, till he appeared like one swimming for life. It was the most awful scene of agony I ever witnessed. Many fled from it in dismay. At length a crisis came, and the horrible symptoms began to abate. Weld gradually became quiet, and finally gleams of joy appeared on his countenance. He opened his eyes, and stood up, assuming a most majestic attitude. His face grew brighter and brighter. He gazed slowly around upon the people with an eye of angelic brilliancy. At length he fixed his gaze upon a young man, with whom he had lately disputed about; the doctrine of holiness. He said nothing, but there was a lion in his eye. The young man quailed. In the same way he singled out another opposer of holiness, and, he too quailed. Fina!ly his eye met mine. I looked at him steadily. His countenance softened into a smile, and he dropped his eye.
30 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
After this he relapsed partially into his former state of horror. The congregation retired. I remained with a few others till the paroxysm passed off and then conducted him to his room at Mr. Boyle's. He returned soon after to Hartford.
I shall not undertake here to expound the spiritual philosophy of this transaction. I will state however its results, and leave the reader to infer from them the character of its spiritual cause.
1. It did not bring Weld out of his equivocal state, into a clear confession of Christ and salvation from sin.
2. It lifted him up higher than ever in his views of his own spiritual office. He regarded the sufferings he endured as like those of the Lamb of God, vicarious and exalting.
3. The principal revelation which he received in this baptism, was one which infused into him the belief of Universalism.
His own account of the immediate occasion of his distress was this: From the beginning of my discourse, the words of my mouth, he said, were like fire to his spirit. They scorched him more and more, till he could endure no longer, and he thought of rising and smiting me in the pulpit. Instantly upon this, the word came to him - 'Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophet no harm.' Then he began to sink into the fathomless depths of despair.
In the latter part of April, I received an invitation from Mr. Chapman, pastor of the Congregational Church in Prospect, to go and labor among his people, and went An account of the introduction of Perfectionism into that place, and of my agency in the work, is given in Appendix D. On my return from this excursion, I met Charles H. Weld at Bethany. He had been with his brother at Hartford since the affair at the free church. He had continued however to communicate with believers in New Haven, and had not lost their confidence, or his influence over them and me. I was at that time far from being qualified or disposed to pass judgment on his character and exercises. We resumed our former intercourse with all apparent cordiality He had advanced considerably in mysticism, and as I supposed, in true spirituality, since his first visit to New Haven. It was evident he considered liimself honored and exalted by his sufferings, and was more than ever inclined to be a father and leader to me.
The New York anniversaries were approaching. Weld proposed to attend them, and wished to take me with him. The gathering of ministers and religious persons from all parts of the country, expected on the occasion, seemed to offer a grand opportunity for disseminating our views. Weld's acquaintance with the clergy was extensive, and might be of service in introducing me among them. Influenced partly by these considerations, I placed myself at his disposal.
The principal work, however, which I had in view at this time and which I intended to accomplish while in New York, was one which, easy as it seemed then, has since proved to be a labor of many years, and is not accomplished yet. I proposed to myself the task of clearing Perfectionism of the disreputable mysticisms and barbarisms which had begun to discredit it. A multitude of stories were afloat about the fantastic sayings and doings of western
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 31
Perfectionists. Many of those stories, I knew, were true; and conscious as I was that the views which I held, and the spirit which I had received, had no affinity with those sayings and doings, I determined to bear my testimony against them, and, if possible, redeem the character of Perfectionism from the disgrace that was coming upon it,. in consequence of them. I thought then that this could be done immediately by some suitable publications. I was by no means aware of the depth and extent of the evil which I proposed to attack, or of the dreadful experience which was necessary to qualify me to comprehend and overcome it.
The case was this. The spiritual department of religion was then, even more than now, a wild uncultivated region, traversed almost only by fanatics and spiritual 'squatters.' Perfectionism was essentially a spiritual development, and, as such, was exposed, especially in the inexperience of its infancy, to all the diseases and barbarisms of the region to which it belonged. The thing to be done, (though I was not then aware of it,) was not to shield the new colony from the influences which surrounded it, by such partial defensive measures, as disclaimers and acts of disfellowship, but to clear up and civilize the whole spiritual region. This was not to be accomplished by a pamphlet or two, or in any way, by a spiritual novice. The qualifications requisite for the undertaking, were, an experimental knowledge of spiritual philosophy, an acquaintance with the principalities of the invisible world-with the height and depth and length and breadth of spiritual wickedness, practical skill in discriminating between divine and diabolical manifestations and impressions, and a boldness, which rough experience only can give, in facing and exposing spiritual impostors. It will be seen in the progress of this narrative, that God, who was wiser than I, instead of allowing me to do immediately what I intended to do, when I went to New York, put me into a school of terrible experience, where I might gain the needful qualifications for my task. The immediate external effect of the transactions into which I was plunged at that period, instead of diminishing the bad odor of Perfectionism, certainly increased it. But the work which I then proposed to myself has been the steady purpose of my life till this day; and I trust that it will yet be seen that I was then learning the lesson which shall secure its accomplishment.
During our passage to New York, and while we remained there, Weld and I conversed much on spiritual subjects. The turn which he gave to our communications was too imaginative to be healthy. His mind ran on such subjects as the official arrangements of the coming dispensation, the physical enjoyments of the resurrection state, spiritual marriage, &c. Holiness was not the centre of his thoughts; and though it was of mine, I yielded myself, for the time being, to his leadings, not suspecting snares, and thinking him my superior in spiritual judgment.
We took lodgings at Tammany Hall, where we remained till Weld left the city. We had at first but little money, but Weld afterward obtained some from a friend. The exercises of the anniversaries were most of the usual kind, and did not attract much of our attention. The only thing I noticed particulary in the meetings, was the 'fluttering' caused by the report which had gone abroad about New Haven Perfectionism. Several of the speakers alluded to that subject in a manner that indicated ill-suppressed bitterness and anxiety.
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I placed myself under Weld's directions in regard to my personal labors with the clergy and others. He sent me first to an interview with Latourette, with whom he was previously acquainted. Latourette was then called a Perfectionist. I expected to find him far in advance of myself in the wisdom of holiness, and was prepared to yield him due deference. I was disappointed. My interview with him satisfied me that he was a self-conceited, uncivilized spiritualist, of the very class against whose views and practices I was determined to protest. The subject of our conversation was the security of the saints. After considerable discourse, I quoted the text - 'Him that overcometh, I will make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out.' He replied, that he had received that promise; that God' had made him a pillar, and he should go no more out; but he had not thought it expedient to preach the doctrine, lest it should beget carelessness, &c. Afterwards he invited me to attend his meeting, and speak. I said, 'If I speak, I shall preach the security.' He answered, 'Speak what the Lord gives you.' I attended the meeting, and spoke warmly and at length on the text - 'He that sinneth, hath not seen him, neither known him.' While I was speaking, he sealed what I said with an 'Amen,' or 'Hallelujah,' at almost every sentence. After the meeting, there seemed to be no small stir in the minds of the people about my testimony. Directly some began to quarrel with it. One said, 'If that doctrine is true, I am no Christian.' Another said, 'I know the doctrine is not true, for I have been converted and backslidden two or three times.' So the word went round.. Immediately Latourette began to condemn my testimony; and before I had time for argument, roared upon me with a voice of thunder, thus: - 'Your doctrine is from hell! Get thee behind me Satan!' &c. So I left the meeting, overborne not by argument, but by clamor.
After this Weld directed me to call on a clergyman by the name of Ingersoll, who was then officiating in the Chatham st. chapel. This gentleman, when he learned that I was a Perfectionist, commenced an assault upon me in the true New Measure style. 'Young man, (said he,) I know all about your doctrine, and as sure as you live I shall convince you that it is false.' 'Very well, (said I,) if you can do what you say, I shall be very willing to give up my error. You shall have an opportunity to try.' Thereupon we sat down, and disputed about an hour; and then parted, certainly without his having made any headway in fulfilling his boast.
By Weld's suggestion, I next called on Mrs. Finney, wife of Rev. C. G. Finney, who was then absent on a voyage for his health. She lived at Wm. Green's. Rev. J. R. McDowall was at the house when I called, and I had a short interview with him. When I made known to Mrs. Finney my profession and my object in calling, she entered into conversation with me on spiritual subjects with considerable interest. I gathered from what she said, that she and her husband were thinking much on the subject of holiness, but were fearful of the errors and fanaticisms connected with it. One of her remarks was substantially as follows: 'Mr. Finney sometimes tells me that I may be perfect, but says that it will not answer for him, as it would ruin his influence.' She to pray with her children, which I did. I imagined that her object in this was to try my holiness by the New Measure test, i.e., to see
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whether I could pray well. Whether I acquitted myself to her satisfaction, I never ascertained.
Weld engaged me in discourse with several other persons, whose names and conversation it is unnecessary to report. At the end of about a week he returned to Hartford, and I removed to a boarding house in Leonard street, intending to devote myself to writing.
I now come to a period of three weeks in my religious history, which was full of singular events-so full that I find great difficulty in recollecting and arranging its various scenes. If the time of this period were to be measured by the amount of experience through which I passed, by the sufferings which I endured, by the mental progress which I made, and by the revolution of character which was the result, it might deserve to be called three years, instead of three weeks. Before entering upon the narration of details, I will make some general remarks on the causes and character of my strange experience at this period.
According to my interpretation of the matter, (which every one must take for what it is worth,) the design of Him to whom I had committed the keeping of my soul, in exposing me to the temptations, sufferings, and strange adventures which befell me at this time, was, as I have already intimated, to initiate me by rough experience into the mysteries of spiritualism. The transition from a life governed by mere intellectual and moral influences, to one subject to the guidance of the Spirit and awake to the elements of the spiritual world, is somewhat like the transition from every-day life on terra firma, to the changeful experience of the sailor. I was yet in many respects a landsman; for though I had received the baptism of the Spirit, and had the beginning of spirituality in my heart, yet the controversies and other pursuits in which I had been engaged since I embraced the gospel of holiness, had turned my attention to the doctrinal and moral, rather than the spiritual elements of the world on which I had entered. My ideas on the subject of the Spirit's leadings, were not clear and practical. Legality had not been entirely expelled from my intellect, if it had been from my heart. Inward instincts were yet rivalled and crippled by the ordinary external rules of life. The time had now conic when I was to be cut loose from all the moorings of fleshly wisdom, and try the ocean of spiritual experience, with God only for my pilot. It was wisely ordered that I should take my first lesson in practical navigation under the fury of, a merciless storm; and it is not to be wondered at that I was sea-sick, and staggered somewhat in the midst of the wave-tossings and brine-drenchings of the occasion.
In order that the reader may have a correct idea of the spiritual influences which were at work upon me at this time, he must consider, 1, that I was full-charged with the sorceries of Charles H. Weld's magnetism; 2, that I had been exposed to the fury of Latourette's spirit, who was mighty in witchcraft, and who afterward boasted that my sufferings were the consequence of his delivering me to Satan for the destruction of the flesh; 3, that I was in a city where, at all times, there is a vast accumulation of diabolical influences, and where at the time of which I am speaking, there was a gathering and concentration of the entire clerical magnetism of the country - a magnetism intensely hostile to the doctrines and spirit of which I was the represent ; and
5
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finally, that I had been introduced by Weld's agency to many of the clergy, and so had been placed in contact, at many points, with this concentrated and hostile magnetism. When Mr. Finney asked me, in 1837, to give him some account of my strange experience in New York, I told him that I could not describe the affair better than by saying that I was mobbed, not physically, but spiritually, and that the singularities of my behavior were to be reckoned as the staggering and uncouthness of a man driven along the street by an exasperated crowd, under a storm of brick-bats and rotten eggs. By this I meant that the magnetic influences above mentioned, with all the devils that were back of them, were let loose upon my spirit, and naturally produced some singular results.
It has been stated by several persons (among others, I think, by Mr. Finney) that I have acknowledged that I was crazy at this period. This is not true. What I have acknowledged I will now repeat and explain. My statement has been and is, that I was not crazy, but that I was subjected to all those spiritual influences which make men crazy - all the external impulses of insanity, - and suffered from them all the torture and perplexity which they could inflict, without actually destroying the soundness of my mind. The vessel was not shattered, nor did it leak, but it drifted many days before the tempest, under bare poles. As in regeneration, so in insanity, two conditions are necessary; first, a spiritual influence from without, and secondly, a subjective appropriation of that influence. Men are not born again merely by the baptism of the Spirit. A subsequent receptive and digestive process on their part is necessary. So a man is not made crazy merely by being plunged into the spirit of insanity. That spirit must find in his mind or brain a morbid condition to which to attach itself, before it can produce in him actual derangement. The difference between being baptized with the spirit of insanity and being actually insane, is just the difference between temptation and actual sin. As a man, under temptation, will be affected by it in his feelings, so that it will more or less modify his conduct, though it fails to lead him into sin, and as the baptism of the Spirit produces many appropriate effects on the character of those who receive it, while yet they are not regenerated, so the spirit of insanity may be permitted to beat upon a man, so as to drift him before it more or less for a time, without affecting his subjective soundness of mind. In fact, as the proof of virtue is proportioned to the temptation which it resists, so the strength of a man's sanity may be evinced by the strength of the deranging influences from without which he overcomes; and instead of acknowledging that I was crazy in the affair at New York, I have always asserted, and still assert, that the fact that I came out of that affair without injury, is evidence that my mind is not only sound, but proof against insanity. I am confident that any one who could know what I went through, would assent to this assertion.
It is proper to observe here, that as I was for the most part alone, or among indifferent strangers, during the period under consideration, the material facts of case have come to be known only by my own report. I am the only primary witness, and all second-hand reports depend on me for their verification. Those which exceed, or differ from, my statements, have no vouchers. We have seen that in regard to the matter of insanity, my testimony has
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been misconstrued and enlarged. by persons disposed to put the worst color upon the affair. In like manner what I have reported in relation to my use of ardent spirits, and my preaching at the Five Points, has been magnified by inferences, till it has been made the foundation of a wide-spread belief that I was guilty of drunkenness and licentiousness. As I am commenting on the general character of the whole transaction in question, I will take this occasion to clear it of evil surmises in regard to these particulars. I must tell my own story. If there is no witness to confirm it, there is none to contradict it. It must stand upon the credit of my affirmation, or, if it is demanded, of my oath. I affirm then, that all reports that I was intoxicated, or committed any acts of licentiousness during my sojourn in New York in 1834, are false. In the proper place I shall relate (as I always have freely related heretofore) the facts on which these vile reports are founded. I have nothing to relate that I am ashamed of. Wild as I may be supposed to have been, - it is certain that I did nothing contrary to the laws of God or man. My innocence was carried safely through the storm.
The reader will get an idea of the frame of my mind at the commencement of the period on which this narrative is entering, by turning to a letter in Appendix G. That letter was written on the eve of Weld's departure for Hartford, after I had taken lodgings in Leonard street with the intention of devoting myself to writing.
On sitting down to my proposed task, I found myself very much straitened in spirit and mind. My thoughts refused to take the direction which I had prescribed for them, and I soon became satisfied that God was calling my attention to other subjects than those I had chosen - that the thinking I had to do was to be for myself, instead of for others.
The first subject toward which the instincts of my heart turned, and which soon took possession of my thoughts, was the resurrection. The gospel which I had received and preached was based on the idea that faith identifies the soul with Christ, so that by his death and resurrection the believer dies and rises again, not literally, nor yet figuratively, but spiritually; and thus, so far as sin is concerned, is placed beyond the grave, in ' heavenly places' with Christ. I now began to think that I had given this idea but half its legitimate scope. I had availed myself of it for the salvation of my soul. Why should it not be carried out to the redemption of the body? Heretofore I had had no occasion or time to look at this bearing of my theory; but now I found myself face to face with it. And my attention was riveted upon it, not as a matter of speculation, but as a subject involving tremendous practical obligations. The question came home with imperative force - 'Why ought I not to avail myself of Christ's resurrection fully, and by it overcome death as well as sin?'
The suggestions and spirit of Weld had some agency in turning my mind to this physical aspect of the gospel, and there was doubtless a tinge of legality in the feelings with which I viewed it at this time. There was a mixture and strife of good and evil spiritual influences within me - the good seeking to bring on a new and healthful crisis of faith, and the evil busy with enchantments, hoping to make that crisis an occasion of false imaginations and ruin.
Not in a presumptuous or ambitious spirit, but under a solemn sense of duty
36 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
resulting from what I regarded as logical deductions of truth, I summoned all my powers to an act of faith in Christ as the Savior of the body as well as the soul. A spirit of wrestling prayer for victory over death came upon me. It was not so much the act of dying that I wished to be delivered from, as the spiritual power of death which broods over all men, living and dying - that dominion of the 'king of terrors' by which men are 'all their lifetime subject to bondage. I sought that identity with Christ by which I might realize his emancipation from death, as well for my body as for my soul; that I might with him, see death behind me - the 'debt of nature' paid. What I sought I obtained. From that time to this I have acknowledged and felt no allegiance to death. The fear that once hung like a cloud over my life passed away, and has long been a forgotten thing.
As it has been frequently' reported that I have professed a belief that I should 'never die,' I may as well briefly define here my position in relation to this point. The conclusions to which I came at the period under consideration, and which I have always avowed since, are as fallows:
1.As Christ did not scruple to say, 'He that believeth on me shall never die,' and that too with manifest reference of some kind to the body, (see John 11:26, and 8:51,) so the believer need not scruple to apply that language to himself. If then I am pressed to say whether I take the language literally or figuratively, I answer - Neither way, but spiritually. The believer may part with his flesh and blood, but shall never part with his life. His true body - that which is within his flesh and blood - is already risen from the dead by the power of Christ's resurrection, and parting with flesh and blood will be to him no death. He will pass into the inner mansions, not naked, but clothed with his immortal body.
2. The death of flesh and blood, to the believer, is not inevitable. It is not a 'debt' which he owes to the devil, or to sin, or to the laws of nature. His debts to all these tyrants are paid. Christ has bought him out of their hands; and the question whether he shall die in the ordinary sense, will be determined, not by some inexorable necessity, but by the choice of Christ, and of course by the choice of himself as a member of Christ. 'No man taketh my life from me,' said Christ, 'but I lay it down of myself.' John 10:18. The power which he had in respect to his own life, he has in respect to the lives of those who believe on him. As members of him, they may lay down their lives as lie did; but no man or devil takes their lives from them. Accordingly Paul, balancing between the desire of life and of death, said, I wot not which I shall CHOOSE.' Phil. 1:22. This language implies that life and death were at his option. The fact that the saints who lived till the Second Coming (to say nothing of Enoch and Elijah) passed within the vail without dying, proves that the death of flesh and blood is not inevitable - that Christ has power to discharge believers from its bond.
3. It is certain from the predictions of scripture, that the time is coming when death will be abolished both as to form and substance in this world. It is not to be expected that individuals will enter into this last victory of Christ much in advance of the whole body of believers. God is evidently preparing for a general insurrection against the 'king of terrors,' and we may reasonably anticipate the crisis and victory as near. 'They that are alive and re-
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main' till the promised consummation, will not die in any sense, but will pass from the mortal to the immortal state by a change similar to that which is described in 1 Cor. 15:51, &c.
My profession, then, since 1834, has been briefly this: 'If I pass through the form of dying, yet in fact I shall never die. But I am not a debtor to the devil even in regard to the form of dying. No man taketh my life from me. I wot not whether I shall choose life or death. But this I know, that if I live till the k