{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_18675/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_18675","id":"gutenberg_18675","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18675","summary":null,"tags":["Barker, Joseph, 1806-1875","Category: Biographies","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Methodist Church -- Clergy -- Biography","Skepticism"],"text":"E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Lisa Reigel, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) from\npage images generously made available by the Making of America Collection\nof the University of Michigan Digital Library Production Service\n(http://www.hti.umich.edu/m/moagrp/)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through the\n      Making of Americal Collection of the University of\n      Michigan's Digital Library Production Service. See\n      http://www.hti.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=moa;c=moajrnl;g=moagrp;xc=1;q1=Barker;rgn=full%20text;cite1=Barker;cite1restrict=author;view=toc;idno=AJK2731.0001.001;cc=moa\n\n\n\n\n\nMODERN SKEPTICISM: A JOURNEY THROUGH THE LAND OF DOUBT AND BACK AGAIN.\n\nA Life Story\n\nby\n\nJOSEPH BARKER.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPhiladelphia:\nSmith, English & Co.\n1874.\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by\nRev. Joseph Barker,\nIn the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.\nJas. B. Rodgers Co.,\nPrinters and Stereotypers,\nPhiladelphia.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nPREFACE, 7\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nIntroduction.--My early life.--Enter the Church.--The Ministry.--Happy\ndays.--Sad change.--How happened it? 17\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nCauses of unbelief.--Vice.--Other causes.--Constitutional tendencies to\ndoubt.--Disappointed expectations about Christianity.--Mysteries of\nProvidence.--Misrepresentations of Christ and Christianity in human\ncreeds.--Church divisions.--Ignorant advocates of Christianity.--Wrong\nprinciples of reasoning.--False science, 19\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nAnother cause of unbelief.--Bad feeling between ministers or among\nchurch members.--Alienates them from each other.--Then separates them\nfrom the Church.--Then from Christ.--How it works.--My case, 26\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nOrigin of the unhappy feeling between me and some of my brother\nministers.--Tendencies of my mind.--Rationalizing tendency.--Its\neffects.--Reading.--Investigations.--Discoveries, 30\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nModification of my early creed.--Unscriptural doctrines\nrelinquished.--Scriptural ones adopted.--Some doctrines\nmodified.--Theological fictions dropped.--Eager for the pure, simple\ntruth as taught by Jesus.--Doctrine of types given up.--Other notions\nrelinquished.--Alarm of some of my brethren at these changes, 44\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nHow preachers and theologians indulge their fancies on religion.--John\nWesley.--His resolution to be a man of one book.--What came of his\nresolution.--His sermon on God's approbation of His works,--unscriptural\nand unphilosophical throughout.--Illustrations and proofs.--And Wesley\nwas one of the best and wisest, one of the most honest and single-minded\nof our theologians.--What then may we expect of others?--Evils of\ntheological trifling.--Mischievous effects of mixing human fictions with\nDivine revelations, 55\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nFurther theological investigations.--Unwarranted statements by\npreachers.--John Foster's Essay on Some of the Causes by which\nEvangelical Religion is Rendered Distasteful to Persons of Cultivated\nMinds.--Introduction of similar views to the notice of my ministerial\nbrethren.--The reception they met with.--No Church has got all the\ntruth.--Most Churches, perhaps all, have got portions of it, which\nothers have not.--My attempts to gather up the fragments from\nall.--Freedom from bigotry.--Love to all Christians.--Judging trees\nby their fruit.--Reading the books of various denominations,\nlike foreign travel, liberalizes the mind.--I found truth\nand goodness in all denominations.--Appropriated all as part\nof my patrimony.--Results.--Suspicions and fears among my\nbrethren.--Mutterings: Backbitings: Controversy. Bad feeling, 65\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nMy style of preaching.--Decidedly practical.--Using Christianity as a\nmeans for making bad people into good ones, and good ones always\nbetter.--Reasons for this method.--A family trait.--Hereditary.--Great\nneed of practical preaching.--Folly of other kinds of\nPreaching.--Littleness of great Preachers.--Worthlessness of great\nsermons.--The Truly Great are the Greatly Good and Greatly Useful.--My\nModels.--The Bible.--Jesus.--My Favorite Preachers.--Billy Dawson, David\nStoner, James Parsons.--My Favorite Books.--The Bible--Nature.--Simple\nCommon Sense, instructive, earnest, moving books.--How my preaching was\nreceived by the people.--Its effects on churches and\ncongregations.--Uneasiness of my colleagues.--Fresh mutterings; tale\nbearings; controversies; and more bad feeling, 82\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nExtracts from my Diary.--A strange preacher.--Horrible sermons.--Lights\nof the world that give no light.--Theological mist and\nsmoke.--Narrow-mindedness.--Intolerance.--T. Allin,--Great preaching\ngreat folly.--A. Scott,--A good preacher.--Sanctification.--Keep to\nScripture.--R. Watson: theological madness.--Big Books on the way of\nsalvation; puzzling folks.--Antinomian utterances about Christ's work\nand man's salvation.--Preachers taking the devil's side; and doing his\nwork.--Scarcity of common sense in priesthoods, and of uncommon\nsense.--The great abundance of nonsense and bad sense.--Common religious\nexpressions that are false.--Favorite Hymns that are not\nScriptural--Baxter's good sense, 98\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nReforming tendencies.--Corruptions in the Church.--Bad trades.--Faults\nin the ministry.--Toleration of vice.--Drinking\nhabits.--Intemperance.--The Connexion.--Faulty rules.--Bad\ncustoms.--Defective institutions.--All encouraged to suggest reforms and\npunished for doing so.--Original principles of the Connexion set aside,\nand persecution substituted for freedom.--My simplicity.--My\nreward.--The Ministry.--Drunkenness.--Teetotalism.--Advocacy of\nTemperance.--Outcry of preachers.--My Evangelical Reformer.--Articles on\nthe prevailing vices of the Church; On Toleration and Human Creeds;--On\nChanning's Works; On Anti-Christian trading, &c., get me into\ntrouble.--Conference interference.--Conference trials.--The state of\nthings critical.--No remedy.--Matters get worse and worse.--Exciting\nevents: too many to be named here.--Envy, jealousy, rage, strife,\nconfusion, and many evil works.--Conspiracies: Fierce\nconflicts.--Expulsion, 117\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nExplanations about the different Methodist Bodies.--Grounds of my\nreformatory proceedings.--About immoralities.--Christianity not to blame\nfor the faults of professors and preachers.--My own defects, 153\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nStory of my life continued.--Results of my expulsion.--Fierce\nfighting.--Desperation of my persecutors.--Great excitement on my\npart.--Rank crop of slanders.--Monstrous ones.--And silly ones.--Bad\ndeeds as well as wicked words.--Hard\nwork.--Exhaustion.--Powerlessness.--Three days' rest.--Long\nsleep.--Wonderful,--delightful,--result.--Public debates.--Remarkable\noccurrences; seemed Providential.--A lying opponent unexpectedly\nconfronted and confounded.--New Body,--Christian Brethren.--My church at\nNewcastle.--Change in my views, and fresh\ntroubles.--Losses.--Poverty.--Learn the Printing business.--Follow it\nunder difficulties.--Want of funds.--Generous friends. Family on the\nverge of want.--Pray.--An unlooked-for cart-load of provisions.--Trust\nin Providence.--False friends.--True ones.--A mad utterance.--A worse\ndeed.--Theological Conventions.--Free investigations and public\ndiscussions.--Change of views, 103\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nApproach to Unitarianism.--Kindness of Unitarians.--Preaching and\nlecturing in their pulpits.--Ten nights' public discussion with Rev. W.\nCooke.--Subjects.--Results.--Publications.--Now periodicals.--Unitarian\ninvitation to London.--Public reception.--Liberal contributions to Steam\nPress Fund.--Press presentation.--Dr. Bateman; Dr.-Sir-John\nBowring.--Pleasurable change from intolerance and persecution to\nfriendship and favor.--Discoveries.--Unitarianism has many\nphases.--Channingism.--Anti-supernaturalism.--Deism.--Atheism.--Gradually\nslid down to the lower, 191\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nThe Bible.--My earliest views of its origin and authority.--Changed as I\ngrew up.--Further changes.--Important facts about the Bible.--False\ntheories of its Divine inspiration.--The true--the Bible's\nown,--doctrine on the subject.--Needful to keep inside of this.--No\ndefence outside either for the Bible or for Bible men.--Explanations:\nillustrations: testimonies of celebrated writers.--The PERFECTION of the\nBible--in what does it consist.--Foolish and impossible notions of\nperfection.--No absolute perfection in any thing.--No need for\nit.--Foolish talk about infallibility.--Other important testimonies, 202\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nEnters politics.--Advocates extreme political\nviews.--Republicanism.--Foretells the French Revolution of 1848.--Great\npolitical excitement in England.--Government alarmed.--Get\narrested.--Lodged in prison.--Trial.--Triumph over Government.--Great\nrejoicings.--Elected member of Parliament for Bolton, and Town\nCouncillor for Leeds.--Exhaustion from excess of labor.--Health\nfails.--Terrible Pains.--Voyage to America and back.--Removes to\nAmerica.--Objects in doing so.--Settles on a farm.--Gets into fresh\nexcitement.--The Abolitionists.--Women's Rights.--All kinds of wild\nrevolutionary theories.--Go farther into unbelief instead of getting\nback to Christ.--A mad world, with strange unwritten histories, and\nawful, nameless mysteries, 241\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nStory of my descent from the faith of my childhood, to doubt and\nunbelief.--Bad theological teaching in my early days.--Dreadful\nresults.--Perplexity.--Madness.--Survive all, and get over it.--The\nfirst arguments I heard for the Bible.--True basis of religious\nbelief.--Reading on the evidences.--Effects.--Unsound\narguments.--_Their_ effect.--_Internal_ evidences best.--Negative\ncriticism, long continued, ruinous both to faith and virtue.--Moving\never downwards.--The devil as a theologian, a poet and a\nphilosopher.--Bible Conventions.--W. L. Garrison, A. J. Davis.--Public\ndiscussions in Philadelphia with Dr. McCalla.--The Doctor's disgraceful\nfailure.--Great,--mad,--excitement.--Narrow escape from murder.--Eight\nnights' debate with Dr. Berg.--The good cause suffered through bad\nmanagement.--The Doctor took an untenable position.--Undertook to prove\ntoo much and failed.--Substantially right, but logically wrong.--Other\ndebates in Ohio, Indiana, England and Scotland.--Mean and mischievous\nopponents.--Honorable and useful ones.--Bad advocates of a good cause,\nits worst enemies, 269\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nContinuation of my Story.--Lectures on the Bible in\nOhio.--Trouble.--Riot.--Rotten eggs.--Midnight mischief.--Had to\nmove.--Settlement among Liberals, Comeouters.--_Too_ fond of\nliberty.--Would have my share as well as their own.--Fresh\ntrouble.--Another forced move.--Settlement in the wilds of Nebraska,\namong Indians, wolves, and rattlesnakes.--Experience there.--A change\nfor the better.--How brought about.--Quiet of\nmind.--Reflection.--Horrors of Atheism.--Destroys the value of\nlife.--Deceives you; mocks you; makes you intolerably\nmiserable.--Suggests suicide.--Prosperity not good for much without\nreligion: adversity, sickness, pain, loss, bereavement\nintolerable.--Strange adventures in the wilderness; terrible dangers;\nwonderful deliverances.--Solemn thoughts and feelings in the boundless\ndesert.--Solitude and silence preach.--Religious feelings\nrevive.--Recourse to old religious books.--Demoralizing tendency of\nunbelief.--Lecture in Philadelphia.--Cases of infidel depravity.--You\ncan't make people good, nor even decent, without religion.--Infidelity\nmeans utter debasement.--A good, a loving, and a faithful wife, who\nnever ceases to pray.--Return to England.--Experience there.--Unbounded\nlicentiousness of Secularism.--Total separation from the infidel\nparty.--My new Periodical.--Resolution to re-read the Bible, to do\njustice to Christianity, &c.--A sight of Jesus.--Happy results.--Change\nboth of head and heart.--Happy transformation of character.--A new\nlife.--New work.--New lot.--From darkness to light,--From death to\nlife,--from purgatory to paradise,--from hell to heaven, 310\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nParties whose Christian sympathy, and wise words, and generous deeds,\nhelped me back to Christ, 345\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nThe steps by which I gradually returned to Christ.--Lectures and sermons\non the road.--Answers to objections against the Bible and\nChristianity.--Spiritualism.--Strange phenomena.--Answers to objections\nadvanced by myself in the Berg debate.--The position to be taken by\nadvocates of the Bible and Christianity.--Additional remarks on Divine\ninspiration.--What it implies, and what it does not imply.--Overdoing is\nundoing.--Genesis and Geology.--The Bible and Science.--Public\ndiscussions,--explanation.--At Home in the Church.--Sorrowful, yet\nalways rejoicing.--Joy unspeakable, 355\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nLessons I have learned.--1. Men slow to learn wisdom by the experience\nof others.--2. Danger of bad feeling.--3. Of a controversial spirit.--4.\nOld ministers should deal tenderly with their younger brethren.--5.\nYoung thinkers should be prayerful, humble, watchful; yet faithful to\nconscience and to truth, trusting in God.--6. With Christian faith goes\nChristian virtue.--The tendency of unbelief is ever downwards.--7.\nUnbelievers are not irreclaimable.--We should not pass them by unpitied\nor unhelped.--8. Converts from infidelity must look for trials.--They\nmust not expect too much from churches and ministers. Paul's case.--9.\nThey must risk all for Christ, and bear their losses and troubles\npatiently.--10. They should join the Church, right away.--Not look for a\nperfect Church.--Keep inside.--Bear unpleasantnesses meekly.--Stones\nmade smooth and round in the stream, by the rubbing they get from other\nstones.--Reformers should move gently, and have long patience.--The more\nhaste the worst speed.--Killing rats.--12. Unbelief, when not a sin, is\na terrible calamity: a world of calamities in one, 406\n\nCONCLUDING REMARKS, 437\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe object of this Book is, First, to explain a portion of my own\nhistory, and, Secondly, to check the spread of infidelity, and promote\nthe interests of Christianity. How far it is calculated to answer these\nends I do not pretend to know. I have no very high opinion of the work\nmyself. I fear it has great defects. On some points I may have said too\nmuch, and on others too little. I cannot tell. I have however done my\nbest, and I would fain hope, that my labors will not prove to have been\naltogether in vain.\n\nI have spent considerable time with a view to bring my readers to\ndistinguish between the doctrines of Christ, and the theological\nfictions which are so extensively propagated in His name. It is\nexceedingly desirable that nothing should pass for Christianity, but\nChristianity itself. And it is equally desirable that Christianity\nshould be seen in its true light, as presented in the teachings and\ncharacter, in the life and death of its great Author. A correct\nexposition of Christianity is its best defence. A true, a plain, a\nfaithful and just exhibition of its spirit and teachings, and of its\nadaptation to the wants of man, and of its tendency to promote his\nhighest welfare, is the best answer to all objections, and the most\nconvincing proof of its truth and divinity. And the truth, the\nreasonableness, the consistency, the purifying and ennobling tendency,\nand the unequalled consoling power of Christianity, _can_ be proved, and\nproved with comparative ease; but to defend the nonsense, the\ncontradictions, the antinomianism and the blasphemies of theology is\nimpossible.\n\nI have taken special pains to explain my views on the Divine\nInspiration of the Scriptures. I am satisfied that no attempts to answer\nthe objections of infidels against the Bible will prove satisfactory, so\nlong as men's views on this subject go beyond the teachings of the\nScriptures themselves. To the fanciful theories of a large number of\nTheologians the sacred writings do not answer, and you must therefore,\neither set aside those theories, and put a more moderate one in their\nplace, or give up the defence of the Bible in despair. I therefore leave\nthe extravagant theories to their fate, and content myself with what the\nScriptures themselves say; and I feel at rest and secure.\n\nThe views I have given on the subject in this work, and in my pamphlet\non the Bible, are not new. You may find them in the works of quite a\nnumber of Evangelical Authors. The only credit to which I am entitled\nis, that I state them with great plainness, and without reserve, and\nthat I do not, after having given them on one page, take them back again\non the next.\n\nHow far my friends will be able to receive or tolerate my views on these\npoints, I do not know. I hope they will ponder them with all the candor\nand charity they can. I have kept as near to orthodox standards as I\ncould, without doing violence to my conscience, and injustice to the\ntruth. I would never be singular, if I could honestly help it. It is\nnothing but a regard to God, and duty, and the interests of humanity,\nthat prevents me going with the multitude. It would be gratifying in the\nextreme to see truth and the majority on one side, and to be permitted\nto take my place with them: but if the majority take sides with error, I\nmust take my place with the minority, and look for my comfort in a good\nconscience, and in the sweet assurance of God's love and favor.\n\n\n_A Dream._\n\nIn looking over some manuscripts some time ago, belonging to a relation\nof my wife's father-in-law, I found the following story of a dream. Some\nhave no regard for dreams, but I have. I have both read of dreams, and\nhad dreams myself, that answered marvellously to great realities; and\nthis may be one of that kind. In any case, as the Preface does not take\nup all the space set apart for it, I am disposed to give it a few of the\nvacant pages.\n\nThe dreamer's account of his dream is as follows.\n\n'After tiring my brain one day with reading a long debate between a\nCatholic and a Protestant about the Infallibility of the Church and the\nBible, I took a walk along a quiet field-path near the river, full of\nthought on the subject on which I had been reading. The fresh air, the\npleasant scene, and the ripple of the stream, had such a soothing effect\non me, that I lost myself, and passed unconsciously from the World of\nrealities, into the Land of dreams. I found myself in a large Hall,\nfilled with an eager crowd, listening to a number of men who had\nassembled, as I was told, to discuss the affairs of the Universe, and\nput an end to controversy. The subject under discussion just then was\nthe Sun. I found that after the world had lived in its light for\nthousands of years, and been happy in the abundance of the fruit, and\ngrain, and numberless blessings produced by his wondrous influences,\nsome one, who had looked at the Great Light through a powerful\ntelescope, had discovered that there were several dark spots on his disk\nor face, and that some of them were of a very considerable size. He\nnamed the matter to a number of his friends who, looking through the\ntelescope for themselves, saw that such was really the case.\n\n'Now there happened to be an order of persons in the Land of dreams\nwhose business it was to praise the Sun, and extol its Light. And they\nhad a theory to the effect, that the Light of the Sun was unmixed, and\nthat the Sun itself was one uniform mass of brightness and brilliancy,\nwithout speck, or spot, or any such thing. They held that the Head of\ntheir order was the Maker of the Sun,--that He Himself was Light, and\nthat in Him was no darkness at all; and that the Sun was exactly like\nHim, intense, unmingled, and unvarying Light. When these people heard of\nthe alleged discovery of the spots, they raised a tremendous cry, and\nsome howled, and some shrieked, and all united in pronouncing the\nstatement a fiction, and in denouncing in severe terms, both its author,\nand all who took his part, as deceivers; as the enemies of the Sun, as\nblasphemers of its Author, and as the enemies of the human race.\n\n'This was one of the great controversies which this world-wide\nconvention had met to bring to an end.\n\n'As I took my place in the Hall, one of the Professors of the Solar\nUniversity was speaking. He said the story about the spots was a wicked\ncalumny; and he went into a lengthy and labored argument to show, that\nthe thing was absurd and impossible. 'The Sun,' said he, 'was made by an\nAll-perfect Artificer,--made on purpose to be a Light, the Great Light\nof the world, and a Light it must be, and nothing else but a Light; a\npure unsullied Light all round, without either spot, or speck of any\nkind, or any varying shade of brilliancy in any part.' He added, 'To say\nthe contrary, is to do the Sun injustice, to dishonor its All-glorious\nAuthor, to alienate the minds of men from the Heavenly Luminary, to\ndestroy their faith in his Light and warmth, to plunge the world into\ndarkness, and reduce it to a state of utter desolation. If the Sun is\nnot _all_ light, he is _no_ Light at all. If there be dark spots on one\npart of his face, there may be dark spots on every part. _All_ may be\ndark, and what seems Light may be an illusion; a false Light, 'that\nleads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind.' He is not to be trusted. Every\nthing is uncertain.' And he called the man who said he had seen the\nspots, an impostor, a blasphemer, a _scavenger_, an ass, a foreigner,\nand a number of other strange names.\n\n'The man he was abusing so unmercifully, stepped forward, and in a meek\nand quiet spirit said, 'I saw the spots with my own eyes. I have seen\nthem scores of times. I can show them to you, if you will look through\nthis glass.' 'Your glass is a cheat, a lie,' said the Professor. 'But\nothers have seen them,' said the man, 'as well as I, and seen them\nthrough a number of other glasses.'\n\n''It is impossible,' answered the Professor. 'A Sun made by an\nAll-perfect God, and made on purpose to be a Light, cannot possibly be\ndefaced with dark spots; and whoever says any thing to the contrary is\na ----.'\n\n'Here the Professor rested his case;--'A Sun without spots, or no Sun.\nLight without variation of shade, or no Light. Prove that the Sun has\nspots, and you reduce him to a level with an old extinguished lamp, that\nis fit for nothing but to be cast away as an unclean and worthless\nthing. The honor of God, and the welfare of the universe all hang on\nthis one question,--Spots, or no spots!'\n\n'His fellow professors took his part, and many spoke in the same strain.\nBut the belief in the spots made its way, and spread further every day,\nand the consequence was, the obstinate Professors were confounded and\nput to shame. Facts were too strong for them, and their credit and\ninfluence were damaged beyond remedy.\n\n'After the Professors of the Sun were silenced, the Man in the Moon\narose and spoke. He contended that both Sun and Moon were free from\nspots, but said, that no one could see the Sun as it really was, unless\nhe _lived_ in the Moon, and looked at it from his standpoint. 'The\nMoon,' said he, 'like the Sun, is the work of the All-perfect Creator;\nand its face is one unchanging blaze of absolute and unvaried\nbrightness.'\n\n'Now all who had ever looked at the Moon, had noticed, that no part of\nher face was as bright as the Sun, and that some portions were of a\nshade considerably darker than the rest. And I noticed that even the\nProfessors who had spoken extravagantly about the Sun, looked at each\nother and smiled, when they heard the statements of the Man in the Moon.\nIndeed there was such a tittering and a giggling through the Hall, that\nthe meeting was broken up.\n\n'I hastened out, and found there were a hundred discussions going on in\nthe street. Many of the disputants seemed greatly excited. I felt\nmelancholy. A quiet-looking man, with a very gentle expression of\ncountenance, came up to me, and in tones of remarkable sweetness, said,\n'You seem moved.' 'I feel troubled,' said I. 'I don't know what to\nthink; and I don't know what to do.' He smiled, and said, 'None of these\nthings move me.' Then lifting up his eyes towards Heaven he said,--'The\nSun still shines; and I feel his blessed warmth as sensibly as ever. And\nthe millions of our race still live and rejoice in his beams.' 'Thank\nGod,' said I: 'Yes, I see, he still shines; and I will rest contented\nwith his light and warmth.' 'The spots are there,' said he, 'past doubt;\nbut experience, the strongest evidence of all, proves that they do not\ninterfere with the beneficent influences of the Great and Glorious Orb,\nor lessen his claims to our respect and veneration, or diminish one jot\nour obligations to his great Author. They have their use, no doubt. The\nSun might be too brilliant without them, and destroy our eyes, instead\nof giving us light. Too much light might prove as bad as too little. All\nis well. I accept plain facts. To deny them is to fight against God. To\nadmit them and trust in God is the true faith, and the germ of all true\nvirtue and piety.\n\n''I have no faith in the kind of absolute perfection those professors\ncontend for, either in Sun or Moon, Bible or Church; but I believe in\nthe SUFFICIENCY, or _practical_ perfection of all, and am as\nhappy, and only wish I were as good and useful, as ----'\n\n'Just as he spoke those words, I awoke. He seemed as if he had much to\nsay, and I would fain have heard him talk his sweet talk till now; but\nperhaps I had heard enough, and ought now to set myself heartily to\nwork, to get through with the business of my life.'\n\nSo ends the Dream-story.\n\nSome writers seem to think that their readers should understand and\nreceive their views, however new and strange they may be, the moment\nthey place them before their minds. They cannot understand how that\nwhich is clear to them, should not be plain to everybody else. And there\nare some readers who seem to think, that every thing they meet with in\nthe books they read, however much it may be out of the way of their\nordinary thought, or however contrary to their long-cherished belief,\nshould, if it be really intelligible and true, appear so to them at\nfirst glance. How can anything seem mysterious or untrue to them, that\nis not mysterious or untrue in its very nature?\n\nIt so happened, that along with the dream-story, I found the following\nfragment. It is not an interpretation of the dream, but it seems as if\nit might teach a useful lesson, both to writers and readers.\n\n'Something more than light, and eyes, and surrounding objects, is\nnecessary to seeing. A new-born child may have light, and eyes, and\nsurrounding objects, and yet not see anything distinctly. And a man born\nblind may have the film removed from his eyes, and be placed, at\nnoontide, in the midst of a world of interesting objects, and yet,\ninstead of seeing things, as _we_ see them, have nothing but a\nconfounding and distressing sensation. Seeing, as _we_ see, is the\nresult of habit, acquired by long-continued use. The new-born babe must\nhave time to exercise its eyes, and exercise its little mind as well,\nbefore it can distinguish face from face, and form from form. The man\nwho has just received his sight must have time for similar exercise,\nbefore he can enjoy the rich pleasures and advantages of sight to\nperfection. Even we who have had our sight for fifty years do not see as\nmany things in a picture, a landscape, or a bed of flowers, when we see\nthem for the first time, as those who have been accustomed to inspect\nand examine such objects for years.\n\n'And so it is with mental and moral vision. Something more than a mind,\nand instruction, and mental objects are necessary to enable a man to\nunderstand religion and duty. Attention, study, comparison, continued\nwith calmness, and candor, and patience, for days, for months, or for\nyears, may be necessary to enable a skeptic to understand, to believe,\nand to feel like those who have long been disciples of Christ.\n\n'And a change of habits, continued till it produces a change of tastes\nand desires, is necessary to prepare the sensualist to judge correctly\nwith regard to things moral and religious. We must not therefore expect\na good lecture, or an able book, to cure a skeptic of his doubts at\nonce. It may produce an effect which, in time, if the party be faithful\nto duty, will _end_ in his conversion at a future day. The seed\ncommitted to the soil does not produce rich harvests in a day. A change\nof air and habits does not at once regenerate the invalid. The\nhusbandman has to wait long for his crop: and the physician has to wait\nlong for the recovery of his patient. And the skeptic has to wait long,\ntill the seed of truth, deposited in his soul, unfolds its germs, and\nproduces the rich ripe harvest of faith, and holiness, and joy.\n\n'And preachers and teachers must not think it strange, if their hearers\nand readers are slow to change. Nor must they despond even though no\nsigns of improvement appear for months or years. A change for the better\nin a student may not be manifest till it has been in progress for years.\nIt may not be perfected for many years. You cannot force a change of\nmind, as you can force the growth of a plant in a hot-house. An attempt\nto do so might stop it altogether. Baxter said, two hundred years ago,\n'Nothing so much hindereth the reception of the truth, as urging it on\nmen with too much importunity, and falling too heavily on their errors.'\n\n'Have patience, then. Teach, as your pupil may be prepared to learn, but\nrespect the laws of the Eternal, which have fixed long intervals for\nslow and silent processes, between the seed-time and the harvest-home.'\n\nWhile I am in doubt as to whether I have put into my book too much on\nsome subjects, I am thoroughly convinced that I have put into it too\nlittle on others. I have not said enough, nor half enough, on Atheism. I\nought to have exposed its groundlessness, its folly, and its mischievous\nand miserable tendency at considerable length.\n\nThis defect I shall try to remedy as soon as possible, and in the best\nway I can.\n\nSome weeks ago I read a paper before the M. E. Preachers' Meeting of\nPhiladelphia, on ATHEISM,--what can it say for itself? The\npaper was received with great favor, and many asked for its publication.\nIt will form the first article in my next volume.\n\nI expect, in fact, to give the subject of Atheism a pretty thorough\nexamination in that volume, and to show that it is irrational and\ndemoralizing from beginning to end, and to the last extreme.\n\nJohn Stuart Mill, the head and representative of English Literary and\nPhilosophical Atheists, has left us a history of his life, and of his\nfather's life. In this work he presents us with full length portraits of\nhimself and his father, and both gives us their reasons for being\nAtheists, and reveals to us the influence of their Atheism on their\nhearts and characters, as well as on their views on morality, politics,\nand other important subjects.\n\nAnd though the painter, as we might expect, flatters to some extent both\nhimself and his father, yet he gives us the more important features of\nboth so truthfully, that we have no difficulty in learning from them,\nwhat kind of creatures great Philosophical Atheists are, or in gathering\nfrom their works a great amount of information about infidelity, of the\nmost melancholy, but of the most interesting and important character.\n\nThis Autobiography of Mr. Mill I propose to review. I meant to review it\nin this volume, but I had not room. I intend therefore to give it a\nplace in my next volume, which may be looked for in the course of the\nyear.\n\nAnother work has just been published, called _The Old Faith and the\nNew_. It is the last and most important work of D. F. Strauss, the\ngreatest and ablest advocate of antichristian and atheistic views that\nthe ages have produced,--the Colossus or Goliath of all the infidel\nhosts of Christendom. In this work, which he calls his CONFESSION,\nStrauss, like Mill, gives us a portrait of himself, exhibiting not only\nhis views, and the arguments by which he labors to sustain them, but the\ninfluence of those views on the hearts, the lives, the characters, and\nthe enjoyments of men. If this Book can be answered,--if the arguments\nof Strauss can be fairly met, and his views effectually refuted,\ninfidelity must suffer serious damage, and the cause of Christianity be\ngreatly benefited. I have gone through the Book with great care. I have\nmeasured and weighed its arguments. And my conviction is, that the work\nadmits of a thorough and satisfactory refutation. If I had had space, I\nshould have made some remarks on it in this volume: but I had not. I\npropose therefore to review it at considerable length in my next.\n\nSome time ago Robert Owen was a prominent man in the infidel world. He\nwas extolled by his friends as a great Philanthropist. He too left us a\nhistory of his life, and his son, Robert Dale Owen, has just been\nrepeating portions of that history in the Atlantic Monthly. It may be\ninteresting to my readers to know what Atheism can do in the way of\nPhilanthropy. We propose therefore to add a review of the Life of Robert\nOwen to those of Strauss and Mill.\n\nRobert Dale Owen himself was an Atheist formerly, and a very zealous and\nable advocate of Atheistical views. He gives his articles in the\nAtlantic Monthly as an autobiography, and seeks to make the impression\nthat he has revealed to his readers all the important facts of his\nhistory without reserve. And he has certainly revealed some strange\nthings. But there are certain facts which he has _not_ revealed, facts\nof great importance too, calculated to show the demoralizing tendency of\ninfidelity. We propose to render the autobiography of Mr. Dale Owen more\ncomplete, more interesting, and more instructive, by the addition of\nsome of those facts.\n\nFrances or Fanny Wright was a friend of Mr. Dale Owen's. She was the\ngreat representative female Atheist of her time. Like Mr. Dale Owen's\nfather, she was rich, and like him, seemed desirous to do something in\nthe way of philanthropy. Mr. Dale Owen, who was her agent for some time,\ngives us some interesting facts with regard to her history, which may\nprove of service to our readers.\n\nIn Buckle we have an Atheistical Historian, who endeavors to prove that\nwe are indebted for all the advantages of our superior civilization, not\nto Christianity, but to natural science and skepticism alone. He\nrepresents Christianity as the enemy of science, and as the great\nimpediment to the advance of civilization. These views of Buckle we\nregard as false and foolish to the last extreme, and we expect to be\nable to show that Europe and America are indebted for their superior\ncivilization, and even for their rich treasures of natural science,\n_not_ to infidelity, but to the influence of Christianity.\n\nMatthew Arnold has just published an interesting book entitled\nLITERATURE AND DOGMA. It is however a mixed work; and we\npropose, while noticing a number of its beautiful utterances, to make a\nfew remarks on some of its objectionable sentiments.\n\nThere is a great multitude of important facts with regard to\nChristianity,--facts which can be understood and appreciated by persons\nof ordinary capacity, and which no man of intelligence and candor will\nbe disposed to call in question; yet facts of such a character as cannot\nfail, when duly considered, to leave the impression on men's minds, that\nChristianity is the perfection of all wisdom and goodness, and worthy of\nacceptance as a revelation from an all-perfect God, and as the mightiest\nand most beneficent friend of mankind. A number of those facts we\npropose to give in our next volume.\n\n\n\n\nMODERN SKEPTICISM.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nWhen a man has travelled far, and seen strange lands, and dwelt among\nstrange peoples, and encountered unusual dangers, it is natural, on his\nreturn home, that he should feel disposed to communicate to his family\nand friends some of the incidents of his travels, and some of the\ndiscoveries which he may have made on his way.\n\nSo when a man has travelled far along the way of life, especially if he\nhas ventured on strange paths, and come in contact with strange\ncharacters, and had altogether a large and varied experience, it is\nnatural, as he draws near to the end of his journey, or when he reaches\none of its more important stages, that he should feel disposed to\ncommunicate to his friends and kindred some of the incidents of his\nlife's pilgrimage, and some of the lessons which his experience may have\nengraven on his heart. He will especially be anxious to guard those who\nhave life's journey yet before them, against the errors into which he\nmay have fallen, and so preserve them from the sorrows that he may have\nhad to endure.\n\nAnd so it is with me. I have travelled far along the way of life. I may\nnow be near its close. I have certainly of late passed one of its most\nimportant stages. I have had a somewhat eventful journey. There are but\nfew perhaps who have had a larger or more varied experience. I have\ncommitted great errors, and I have in consequence passed through\ngrievous sorrows; and I would fain do something towards saving those who\ncome after me from similar errors and from similar sorrows: and this is\nthe object of the work before you.\n\nAt an early period, when I was little more than sixteen years of age, I\nbecame a member of the Methodist society. Before I was twenty I became a\nlocal preacher. Before I was twenty-three I became a travelling\npreacher; and after I had got over the first great difficulties of my\ncalling, I was happy in my work; as happy as a mortal man need wish to\nbe. It was my delight to read good books, to study God's Word and works,\nand to store my mind with useful knowledge. To preach the Gospel, to\nturn men from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, and\nto promote the instruction and improvement of God's people were the joy\nand rejoicing of my soul. There were times, and those not a few, when I\ncould sing with Wesley--\n\n     \"In a rapture of joy my life I employ,\n       The God of my life to proclaim:\n     'Tis worth living for this, to administer bliss\n       And salvation in Jesus's name.\"\n\nAnd I was very successful in my work. I never travelled in a circuit in\nwhich there was not a considerable increase of members, and in one place\nwhere I was stationed, the numbers in church-fellowship were more than\ndoubled in less than eighteen months.\n\nIn those days it never once entered my mind that I could ever be\nanything else but a Christian minister: yet in course of time I ceased\nto be one; ceased to be even a Christian. I was severed first from the\nChurch, and then from Christ, and I wandered at length far away into the\nregions of doubt and unbelief, and came near to the outermost confines\nof eternal night. And the question arises,\n\nHow happened this? And how happened it that, after having wandered so\nfar away, I was permitted to return to my present happy position?\n\nThese two questions I shall endeavor, to the best of my ability, to\nanswer.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nCAUSES OF UNBELIEF.\n\n\nHow came I to wander into doubt and unbelief?\n\n1. There are several causes of skepticism and infidelity. One is vice.\nWhen a man is bent on forbidden pleasures, he finds it hard to believe\nin the truth and divinity of a religion that condemns his vicious\nindulgences. And the longer he persists in his evil course, the darker\nbecomes his understanding, the more corrupt his tastes, and the more\nperverse his judgment; until at length he \"puts darkness for light, and\nlight for darkness; calls evil good and good evil, and mistakes bitter\nfor sweet, and sweet for bitter.\" He becomes an infidel. It is the\ndecree of Heaven that men who persist in seeking pleasure in\nunrighteousness, shall be given up to strong delusions of the devil to\nbelieve a lie.\n\n2. But there are other causes of skepticism and unbelief besides vice.\nThomas was an unbeliever for a time,--a very resolute one,--yet the\nGospel gives no intimation that he was chargeable with any form of vice.\nAnd John the Baptist, one of the noblest characters in sacred history,\nafter having proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah to others, came himself to\ndoubt, whether He was really \"the one that should come, or they should\nlook for another.\" Like the early disciples of the Saviour, and the\nJewish people generally, John expected the Messiah to take the throne of\nDavid by force, and to rule as a temporal prince; and when Jesus took a\ncourse so very different, his confidence in his Messiahship was shaken.\nAnd one of the sweetest Psalmists tells us that, as for him, his feet\nwere almost gone; his steps had well-nigh slipped: and that, not because\nhe was eager for sinful pleasures, but because he saw darkness and\nclouds around the Providence of God: he could not understand or \"justify\nthe ways of God to man.\"\n\nAnd there are thoughtful and good men still who fall into doubt and\nunbelief from similar causes. The kind of people who, like Thomas, are\nconstitutionally inclined to doubt, are not all dead. Baxter mentions a\nclass of men who lived in his day, that were always craving for sensible\ndemonstrations. Like Thomas, they wanted to _see_ and _feel_ before they\nbelieved. In other words, they were not content with faith; they wanted\n_knowledge_. And there are men of that kind still in the world.\n\nAnd the darkness and clouds which the Psalmist saw around the providence\nof God are not all gone. There are many things in connection with the\ngovernment of the world that are hard to be understood,--hard to be\nreconciled by many with their ideas of what is right. There are\nmysteries both in nature and in history, which baffle the minds and try\nthe faith of the best and wisest of our race.\n\n3. And there are matters in connection with Christianity to try the\nfaith of men. Like its great Author, when it first made its appearance,\nit had \"neither form nor comeliness\" in the eyes of many. It neither met\nthe expectations of the selfish, proud, ambitious Jew, nor of the\ndisputatious, philosophic Greek. To the one \"it was a stumbling-block,\"\nand to the other \"foolishness.\" And there have been men in every age,\nwho have been unable to find in Christianity all that their preconceived\nnotions had led them to expect in a religion from Heaven. There are men\nstill, even among the sincerest and devoutest friends of Christianity,\nwho are puzzled and staggered at times by the mysterious aspects of some\nof its doctrines, or by some of the facts connected with its history.\nThey cannot understand, for instance, how it is that it has not spread\nmore rapidly, and become, before this, the religion of the whole world.\nYou tell them the fault is in its disciples and ministers, and not in\nChristianity itself. But they cannot understand why God should allow the\nsuccess of a system so important to depend on faithless or fallible men.\nNor can they understand how it is that in the nations in which the\nGospel has been received, it has not worked a greater transformation of\ncharacter, and produced a happier change in their condition. How is it,\nthey ask, that it has not extinguished the spirit of war, destroyed the\nsordid lust for gain, developed more fully the spirit of\nself-sacrificing generosity, and converted society into one great\nbrotherhood of love? How is it that the Church is not more holy, more\nunited, and more prosperous,--that professors and teachers of\nChristianity do not exhibit more of the Christian character, and follow\nmore closely the example of the meek and lowly, the loving and\nlaborious, the condescending and self-sacrificing Saviour whose name\nthey bear? They are amazed that so little is done by professing\nChristians to save the perishing classes; that so many of the churches,\ninstead of grappling with the vice and wretchedness of our large towns,\nturn their backs on them, build their churches in aristocratic\nneighborhoods mostly, and compete with one another for the favor of the\nrich and powerful. They cannot understand how it is, that churches and\nministers do not exert themselves more for the extinction of\ndrunkenness, gambling, and licentiousness, and for the suppression of\nall trades and customs that minister to sin. It startles them to see to\nwhat a fearful extent the churches have allowed the power of the press,\nwhich once was all their own, to pass out of their hands, into the hands\nof selfish, worldly, and godless adventurers. These matters admit of\nexplanation, but there are many to whose minds the explanation is never\npresented, and there are some whom nothing will relieve from perplexity\nand doubt but a grander display of Christian zeal and philanthropic\neffort, on the part of the churches, for the regeneration of society.\n\n4. Then the religion of Christ is not, as a rule, presented to men in\nits loveliest and most winning, or in its grandest and most overpowering\nform. As presented in the teachings and character of Christ,\nChristianity is the perfection of wisdom and goodness, the most glorious\nrevelation of God and duty the mind of man can conceive: but as\npresented in the creeds, and characters, and writings of many of its\nteachers and advocates, it has neither beauty, nor worth, nor\ncredibility. Some teach only a very small portion of Christianity, and\nthe portion they teach they often teach amiss. Some doctrines they\nexaggerate, and others they maim. Some they caricature, distort, or\npervert. And many add to the Gospel inventions of their own, or foolish\ntraditions received from their fathers; and the truth is hid under a\nmass of error. Many conceal and disfigure the truth by putting it in an\nantiquated and outlandish dress. The language of many theologians, like\nthe Latin of the Romish Church, is, to vast numbers, a dead\nlanguage,--an unknown tongue. There are hundreds of words and phrases\nused by preachers and religious writers which neither they nor their\nhearers or readers understand. In some of them there is nothing to be\nunderstood. They are mere words; meaningless sounds. Some of them have\nmeanings, but they are hard to come at, and when you have got at them\nyou find them to be worse than none. They are falsehoods that lurk\nwithin the dark and antiquated words. I have heard and even read whole\nsermons in which nine sentences out of ten had no more meaning in them\nthan the chatter of an ape. Perhaps not so much. I have gone through\nlarge volumes and found hardly a respectable, plain-meaning sentence\nfrom beginning to end. And wagon loads of so-called religious books may\nstill be found, in which, as in the talk of one of Shakespeare's\ncharacters, the ideas are to the words as three grains of wheat to a\nbushel of chaff; you may search for them all day before you find them;\nand when you find them they are good for nothing. When I first came\nacross such books I supposed it was my ignorance or want of capacity\nthat made it impossible for me to understand them; but I found, at\nlength, that there was nothing in them to understand. There are other\nbooks which have a meaning, a good meaning, but it is wrapped up in such\nout-of-the-way words and phrases, that it is difficult to get at it. Men\nof science have not only discarded the foolish fictions of darker ages,\nbut have begun to simplify their language; to cast aside the unspeakable\nand unintelligible jargon of the past, and to use plain, good, common\nEnglish, thus rendering the study of nature pleasant even to children;\nwhile many divines, by clinging to the unmeaning and mischievous\nphraseology of ancient dreamers, render the study of religion repulsive,\nand the attainment of sound Christian knowledge almost impossible to the\nmasses of mankind. And all these things become occasions of unbelief.\n\"So long as Christian preachers and writers are limited so much to human\ncreeds and systems, or to stereotyped phrases of any kind, and avail\nthemselves so little of the popular diction of literature and of common\nlife, so long must they repel many whom they might convince and win.\"\nDr. Porter, _President of Yale College_.\n\n5. Then again: the divisions of the Church, and the uncharitable spirit\nin which points of difference between contending sects are discussed,\nand the disposition sometimes shown by religious disputants to impugn\neach other's motives, to call each other offensive names, and to consign\neach other to perdition, are occasions of stumbling to some.\n\n6. And again: many advocates of Christianity, more zealous than wise,\nsay more about the Bible and Christianity than is true, and attempt to\nprove points which do not admit of proof; and by their unguarded\nassertions, and their failures in argument, bring the truth itself into\ndiscredit. Others use unsound arguments in support of the truth, and\nwhen men discover the unsoundness of the arguments, they are led\nsometimes to suspect the soundness of the doctrine in behalf of which\nthey are employed. The pious frauds of ancient and modern fanatics have\nproved a stumbling-block to thousands.\n\nAlbert Barnes says, \"There is no class of men that are so liable to rely\non weak and inconclusive reasonings as preachers of the Gospel. Many a\nyoung man in a Theological Seminary is on the verge of infidelity from\nthe nature of the reasoning employed by his instructor in defence of\nthat which is true, and which might be well defended: and many a youth\nin our congregations is almost or quite a skeptic, not because he wishes\nto be so, but because that which is true is supported by such worthless\narguments.\"\n\n7. Again; theological students sometimes adopt erroneous principles or\nunwise methods of reasoning in their search after truth, and do not\ndiscover their mistake till they are landed in doubt and unbelief. They\nfind certain principles laid down by men in high repute for science, and\nadopt them without hesitation, not considering that men of science are\nsometimes mad, fanatical infidels, and that they manufacture principles\nwithout regard to truth, for the simple purpose of undermining men's\nfaith in God and religion. Writers on science of one school tell you,\nthat in your study of nature, you must be careful never to admit the\ndoctrine of final causes; or, in other words, that you must never\nentertain the idea that anything in nature was meant to answer any\nparticular purpose. You must, say they, if you would be a true\nphilosopher, shut out from your mind all idea of design or contrivance\nin the works of nature. You must just look at what is, and not ask what\nit is for. You may find wonderful adaptations of things to each other,\nall tending to happy results; but you must never suppose that any one\never _designed_ or _planned_ those adaptations, with a _view_ to those\nhappy results. You must confine yourself entirely to what you see, and\nnever admit the thought of a Maker whom you do not see. You must limit\nyour observations to what is done, and not dream of a Doer. You may see\nthings tending to the diffusion of happiness, but must not suppose that\nthere is a great unseen Benefactor, who gives them this blessed\ntendency. And if you feel in yourself a disposition to gratitude, you\nmust treat it as a foolish, childish fancy, and suppress it as\nirrational.\n\nA sillier or a more contemptible notion--a notion more opposed to true\nphilosophy and common sense,--can hardly be conceived. How any one could\never have the ignorance or the impudence to propound such an unnatural\nand monstrous absurdity as a great philosophical principle, would be a\nmystery, if we did not know how infidelity perverts men's\nunderstandings, and, while puffing them up with infinite conceit of\ntheir own wisdom, transforms them into the most arrant and outrageous\nfools.\n\nYet this monstrous folly has found its way into books, and papers, and\nreviews, and, through them, into the minds of some Christian students;\nand when the madness of the notion is not detected, it destroys their\nfaith, and makes them miserable infidels.\n\nSome adopt the principle that reason is man's only guide,--that reason\nalone is judge of what is true and good, and that to reason every thing\nmust be submitted, and received or rejected, done or left undone, as\nreason may decide. This sounds very plausible to many, and there is a\nsense in which it may be true; but there is a sense in which it is\nfearfully false; and the youth that adopts it, and acts upon it, will be\nlikely to land himself in utter doubt, both with regard to religion and\nmorals. There are numbers of cases in which reason is no guide at\nall,--in which instinct, natural affection, and consciousness are our\nonly guides. You can never prove by what is generally called reason\nalone, that man is not a machine, governed entirely by forces over\nwhich he has no control. You cannot therefore prove by what certain\nphilosophers call reason, that any man is worthy of reward or\npunishment, of praise or blame, of gratitude or of resentment; or that\nthere is any such thing in men as virtue or vice, according to the\nordinary sense of the words. The ablest logicians on earth, when they\ntake reason alone as their guide, come to the conclusion that there is\nno such thing as liberty or moral responsibility, in the ordinary\nacceptation of the terms, but that all is fixed, that all is fate, from\neternity to eternity. They accordingly come to the further conclusion,\nthat there is no free, voluntary Ruler of the universe,--that there is\nno Almighty Judge and Rewarder,--that there is neither reward nor\npunishment, properly speaking, either in this world or in the world to\ncome. They become atheists.\n\nYou can never prove by reason that a woman ought to love her own child\nbetter than the child of another woman. You cannot prove by reason that\nshe ought to love it at all. You may say no children would be reared if\nmothers did not love their children, and even love them better than the\nchildren of other mothers. But how will you prove that children _ought_\nto be reared? Can you show that the mother will confer any advantage on\nher child, or secure any advantage to herself, or any one else, by\nrearing it? Can you prove that it will not be a torment to her,--that it\nwill not bring her to want, and shame, and an untimely death? The fact\nis, a mother's love, a mother's partiality for her own child, is not a\nmatter of reason. The hen loves her chickens, the she bear loves its\ncubs, the mother dog loves its whelps, and the ewe loves her lambs,\nwithout any regard to reason. Their affections and preferences are\ngoverned by something infinitely wiser than reason; infinitely higher,\nat least, than any reason that _man_ can boast. And men love women, and\nwomen love men, and men and women marry and form new families, not at\nthe bidding of reason, but under the influence of instincts or impulses\nthat come from a wisdom infinitely higher than the wisdom of the wisest\nman on earth. And so it is with many of our beliefs. They are\ninstinctive; and reason, when it becomes reasonable enough to deserve\nthe name, will advise you to cherish those instinctive beliefs as your\nlife, in spite of all the infidel philosophy and reasoning on earth.\n\nBut even honest and well-disposed men of science sometimes form bad,\ndefective, or one-sided habits of thought and judgment unconsciously,\nwhich render it impossible for them to do justice either to Nature or\nChristianity as revelations of the character and government of God. And\nthese faulty habits of thought and judgment, and the anti-Christian\nconclusions to which they lead, pass on from men of science to literary\nmen; and literature is vitiated, and books and periodicals which should\nlead men to truth, cause them to err. Thus skeptical principles pervade\nsociety. They find advocates at times even among men who call themselves\nministers of Christ. The consequence is, that well-disposed, and even\npious young men, are perplexed, bewildered, and some who, like John the\nBaptist, were \"burning and shining lights,\" become \"wandering stars,\"\nand lose themselves, for a time at least, amidst the \"blackness and\ndarkness\" of doubt and despair.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nANOTHER CAUSE OF UNBELIEF--BAD FEELING. THE AUTHOR'S CASE.\n\n\nThere are several other causes of doubt and unbelief which we might\nname, if we had time; but we have not. There is one however which we\nmust notice, because it had considerable influence in our own case; we\nrefer to the bad feeling which sometimes takes possession of the minds\nof Christians towards each other, or of the minds of ministers towards\ntheir brother ministers.\n\nYou are aware, perhaps, that if you scratch the skin, and introduce a\nlittle diseased animal matter to the blood, it will gradually spread\nitself through the system, and in time poison the whole body. And if you\ndo not know this, you know, that if you take a little leaven, and place\nit in a mass of meal, and leave it there to work unchecked, it will in\ntime leaven the whole lump. And as it is with things natural, so it is\nwith things spiritual. If you allow a little leaven of bad feeling to\nget into your minds towards your fellow Christians or your brother\nministers, and permit it to remain there, it will in time infect your\nwhole soul, impair the action of all its faculties, and after alienating\nyou from individuals, separate you first from the Church, and then from\nChrist and Christianity.\n\nThere is a passage in the Bible which says that judges are not to take\ngifts; and the reason assigned is, not that if a judge accepts a present\nhe will, with his eyes open, wilfully condemn the innocent or acquit the\nguilty; but that \"a gift _blindeth the eyes_,\" even \"of the wise,\" so\nthat he is no longer able to see clearly which is the guilty and which\nthe guiltless party. And there is another passage in the Bible which\nsays that \"oppression driveth a wise man mad.\" The feeling a man has\nthat he has been wickedly, cruelly treated, excites his mind so\npainfully and violently, that it is impossible for him to think well of\nthe character or views of his oppressor, or of any party, institution,\nor system with which he may be connected.\n\nAs some friends of mine were canvassing for votes one day, previous to\nan election, they came upon a man who could not, for a time, say for\nwhich candidate he would vote. At length a thought struck him, and he\nsaid, \"Who is John Myers going to vote for?\" \"Oh,\" said my friends,\n\"he's going to vote for _our_ man.\" \"Then I'll vote for the other man,\"\nsaid he, \"for I'm sure Myers will vote wrong.\" Myers had swindled him in\na business transaction; and his feelings towards him were so strong, and\nof so unpleasant a kind, that he could not think anything right that\nMyers did, nor could he think anything wrong that he himself did, so\nlong as he took care to go contrary to Myers.\n\nIt is very natural to smile at such weakness when we see it in others,\nand yet exhibit unconsciously the same weakness ourselves under another\nform. There are some Christians who, when their minister pleases them\nwell, are quite delighted with his discourses. They are \"marrow and\nfatness\" to their souls. And every sermon he preaches seems better than\nthe one that went before; and they feel as if they could sit under that\ndear good man for ever. But a change comes over their feelings with\nregard to him. While going his round of pastoral visits some day, he\npasses their door, but calls at the house of a richer neighbor a little\nlower down: or on visiting the Sunday-school, he pats someone's little\nboy on the head, and speaks to him kind and pleasant words, while he\npasses their little son unnoticed. He has no improper design in what he\ndoes; but it happens so; that is all. The idea of partiality never\nenters his mind. But they fancy he has got something wrong in his mind\ntowards them; and it is certain now that they have got something wrong\nin their minds towards him. And now his sermons are quite changed. The\n\"marrow and fatness\" are all gone, and there is nothing left but \"the\nhusks which the swine should eat.\" And every sermon he preaches seems\nworse than the one which went before, until at length they get quite\nweary, and their only comfort is, if they be Methodists, that Conference\nwill come some day, and they will have a change. And all this time the\npreacher is just the same good man he ever was, and his sermons are the\nsame; only _they_ are changed. They have misjudged him, and become the\nsubjects of unhappy feeling, and are no longer capable of doing either\nhim or his sermons justice.\n\nAnd the longer the unhappy feeling is allowed to remain in their minds,\nthe stronger it will become, and the more mischievous will it prove.\nAfter disabling or perverting their judgments with regard to their\npastor, it will be in danger of separating them from the Church; and\nwhen once they get out of the Church into the outside world, no wonder\nif they make shipwreck both of faith, and of a good conscience.\n\nAnd so it is continually. Our views of men's characters, talents,\nsentiments, are always more or less influenced by our feelings and\naffections. If we like a man very much, we look on his views in the most\nfavorable light, and are glad to see anything like a reason for adopting\nthem ourselves. We give his words and deeds the most favorable\ninterpretation, and we rate his gifts and graces above their real value.\nOn the other hand, if we dislike a man,--if we are led to regard him as\nan enemy, and to harbor feelings of resentment towards him, we look on\nwhat he says and does with distrust; we suspect his motives; we\nunder-rate his talents, and are pleased to have an excuse for differing\nfrom him in opinion.\n\nWe see proofs of this power of feeling and affection over the judgment\non every hand. The mother of that ordinary-looking and troublesome child\nthinks it the most beautiful and engaging little creature under heaven;\nwhile she wonders how people can have patience with her neighbor's\nchild, which, in truth, is quite a cherub or an angel compared with\nher's. You know how it is with natural light. You sit inside an ancient\ncathedral, and the light from the bright shining sun streams in through\nthe painted windows. Outside the cathedral the light is all pure white;\nbut inside, as it falls upon the pulpit, the pillars, the pews and the\npeople, it is purple, orange, violet, blue, red, or green, according to\nthe color of the glass through which it passes. It is the same with\nmoral or spiritual light; it takes the tint or hue of the painted\nwindows of our passions and prejudices, our likes and dislikes, through\nwhich it enters our minds. The light that finds its way into men's\nminds, says Bacon, is never pure, white light; but light colored by the\nmedium through which it passes. Look where we will, whether into books\nor into the living world, we see differences of opinion on men and\nthings that can be accounted for on no other principle than that the\njudgments of people are influenced by their passions and feelings, their\nprejudices and interests. The Royalists looked on Cromwell through\nspectacles of hate and vengeance, and saw a monster of hypocrisy and\nblood. The Puritans looked at him through spectacles of revolutionary\nfanaticism, and saw a glorious saint and hero. The clergy looked on\nNonconformists through conservative glasses, and saw a rabble of\nfanatics and rebels. The Nonconformists looked on the clergy through\nrevolutionary glasses, and saw a host of superstitious formalists, and\nblind, persecuting Pharisees. The man who looks through the unstained\nglasses of impartiality, sees much that is good, and something that is\nnot good, in all.\n\nWho, that knows much of human nature, expects Catholics to judge\nrighteously of Protestants, or Protestants to judge righteously of\nCatholics? Who, that knows anything of the world, expects revolutionary\nRadicals to do justice to the characters and motives of Conservatives,\nor ejected Irishmen to see anything in Englishmen but robbers and\ntyrants? I know that all this is great weakness, but where is the man\nthat is not weak? The man who thinks himself free from this weakness,\nhas probably a double share of it. The man who is really strong is some\none who is keenly sensible of his weakness, and who feels that his\nsufficiency is of God. Weakness and humanity are one.\n\nI dwell the longer on this point because, as I have already intimated, a\nright understanding of it will go far towards explaining the disastrous\nchange which took place in my own mind with regard to Christianity. One\ngreat cause of my separation from the Church, and then of my\nestrangement from Christ, was the influence of bad feeling which took\npossession of my mind towards a number of my brother ministers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nORIGIN OF THE UNHAPPY FEELING--CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AUTHOR'S\nMIND--RATIONALIZING TENDENCY.\n\n\nHow came I to be the subject of this bad feeling? I will tell you.\n\nAs a young minister I had two or three marked tendencies. One may be\ncalled a rationalizing tendency. I was anxious, in the first place,\nclearly to understand all my professed beliefs, and to be able, in the\nsecond place, to make them plain to others. I never liked to travel in a\nfog, wrapped round as with a blinding cloud, unable either to see my\nway, or to get a view of the things with which I was surrounded. I liked\na clear, bright sky, with the sun shining full upon my path, and\ngladdening my eyes with a view of a thousand interesting objects. And so\nwith regard to spiritual matters. I never liked to travel in theological\nfogs. They pressed on me at the outset of my religious life, on every\nside, hiding from my view the wonders and the glories of God's word and\nworks; but I never rested in the darkness. I longed and prayed for light\nwith all my soul, and sought for it with all my powers. Regarding the\nBible as God's Book, given to man for his instruction and salvation, I\nresolved, by God's help, to find out both what it said and what it\nmeant, on every important point of truth and duty.\n\n1. I became sensible, very early in life, that the doctrines I had\nreceived from my teachers were, in some cases, inconsistent with each\nother, and that they could not therefore all be true; and I was anxious\nto get rid of this inconsistency, and to bring the whole of my beliefs\ninto harmony with each other.\n\n2. I was also anxious to bring my views into agreement with the\nteachings of Christ and His Apostles. I wished every article of my\nbelief to rest, not on the word of man, but on the word of God. I\nbelieved it to be my duty to come as near to Christ as possible, both in\nmy views and character. And I wished my style of preaching and teaching\nto be, like His, the perfection of plainness and simplicity. I felt that\nmy chief mission was to the masses,--that I was called especially to\npreach and teach the Gospel to the poor; and it was my wish to be able\nto make it plain to people of the most defective education, and of the\nhumblest capacity.\n\n3. I was further wishful to see an agreement between the doctrines which\nI gathered from the Sacred Scriptures, and the oracles which came to me\nfrom the works of God in nature. If nature and Christianity were from\nthe same All-perfect God, as I believed, their voices must be one. Their\nlessons of truth and duty must agree. They must have the same end and\ntendency. Christian precepts must be in harmony with man's mental and\nbodily constitution. They must be conducive to the development of all\nman's powers; to the perfection and happiness of his whole being. They\nmust be friendly to the improvement of his condition. They must favor\nevery thing that is conducive to his personal and domestic happiness,\nand to the social and national welfare of the whole human race. And the\ndoctrines of Christianity must be in harmony with the constitution, and\nlaws, and phenomena of the visible universe. If there be one Great,\nAll-perfect Creator and Governor of the world and of man, then man and\nthe universe, the universe and religion, science and revelation,\nphilosophy and Christianity, the laws of nature and the laws of Christ,\nmust all be one. I wanted to see this oneness, and to feel the sweet\nsense of it in my soul.\n\n4. I wanted further to see the foundations on which my belief in God and\nChrist and in the Sacred Scriptures rested, that I might be able to\njustify my belief both to myself and to others. I wished to have the\nfullest evidence and assurance of the truth of Christianity I could get,\nthat I might both feel at rest and happy myself, and be able to give\nrest and comfort to the souls of others.\n\n5. With these objects in view I set to work. I prayed to God, the Great\nFather of lights, and the Giver of every good and perfect gift, to lead\nme into all truth, and to furnish me to every good work. I read the\nBible with the greatest care. I searched it through and through. I\nstudied it daily, desirous to learn the whole scope and substance of its\nteachings, on every point both of truth and duty. I marked on the margin\nof the pages all those passages that struck me by their peculiar\nclearness, and their fulness of important meaning. These passages I read\nover again and again, till I got great numbers of them off by heart. I\ngave each passage a particular mark according to the subject on which it\ntreated. I then copied the whole of these passages into large Note\nBooks, placing all that spake on any particular subject together. I also\narranged the passages so far as I was able, in their natural order, that\nthey might throw light on one another, and present the subject on which\nthey treated, in as full and intelligible a light as possible. I divided\nthe pages of my Note Books into two columns, placing the passages which\nfavored one view of a subject in the first column, and those which\nseemed to favor a different view in the second. I placed in those Note\nBooks passages on matters of duty, as well as on matters of truth. In\nthis way I got nearly all the plainer and more important portions of the\nBible arranged in something like systematic order. Having done this, I\nwent through my Books, and put down in writing all that the passages\nplainly taught, and marked the bearing of their teachings on the various\narticles of my creed, with a view to bringing my creed, and the\nteachings of Scripture, into agreement with each other.\n\n6. To help me in these my labors, and to secure myself as far as\npossible from serious error, I read a multitude of other books, on\nalmost every subject of importance, by authors of almost all varieties\nof creeds. I read commentaries, sermons, bodies of divinity, and a host\nof treatises on various points. To the best of my ability I examined the\nScriptures in the original languages, as well as in a number of\ntranslations, both ancient and modern, including several Latin and\nFrench versions, four German ones, and all the English ones that came in\nmy way. I had a number of Lexicons, and of Theological and Bible\nDictionaries of which I made free use. I went through the Commentaries\nof Baxter, Wesley and Adam Clarke with the greatest care, as well as\nthrough a huge and somewhat heterodox, but able and excellent work,\npublished by Goadby, entitled, _Illustrations of the Sacred Scriptures_.\nI do not think I missed a single sentence in these commentaries, or\npassed unweighed a single word.\n\nI read and studied the writings of Wesley generally, and the works of\nFletcher, Benson and Watson. I read Hooker and Taylor also, and Wilkins,\nand Barrow, and Tillotson, and Butler, and Burnet, and Pearson, and\nHoadley. I read the writings of Baxter almost continually. I went\nthrough, not only the whole of his voluminous practical works, but many\nof his doctrinal and controversial ones, including his Catholic\nTheology, his Aphorisms on Justification, his Confessions, and his most\nelaborate, comprehensive and wonderful work of all, his _Methodus\nTheologiae_, in Latin. In Baxter alone I had a world of materials for\nthought, on almost every religious and moral subject that can engage the\nmind of man. And on almost every subject of importance his thoughts\nseemed rich and wholesome, scriptural and rational in the highest\ndegree. His Christian spirit held me captive, and I never got tired of\nhis earnest, eloquent, and godly talk. Even the old and endless\ncontroversies on which he spent so much time and strength, were often\nrendered interesting by the honesty of his heart, by the abundance of\nhis charity, by the moderation of his views, and by the never-failing\ngood sound sense of his remarks. None of the works I read had such a\ncharm for me as those of Baxter, and no other religious writer exerted\nso powerful and lasting an influence either on my head or heart. Taylor\nwas too flowery, and Barrow too wordy, and Tillotson was rather cold and\nformal; yet I read them all with profit, and with a great amount of\npleasure. Hooker I found a wonder, both for excellency of style and\nrichness of sentiment; and his piety and wisdom, his candor and his\ncharity, have never been surpassed since the days of Christ and His\nApostles. And Hoadley too I liked, and Butler, and Thomas a Kempis, and\nWilliam Law. And then came Bolton and Howe, and Doddridge and Watts.\nThen Penn, and Barclay, and Clarkson, and Sewell, and Hales, and Dell\ncaught my attention, giving me interesting revelations of Quaker thought\nand feeling.\n\nAnd I was edified by Lactantius and Chrysostom, the most eloquent,\nrational and practical of the Christian Fathers. By and by came\nPriestley and Price, and Dr. John Taylor, and W. E. Channing, and a host\nof others of the modern school of heterodox writers. I also read a\nnumber of celebrated French authors, including Bossuet and Bourdaloue,\nFlechier and Massillon, Pascal and Fenelon, and the eloquent, Protestant\npreacher and author, M. Saurin. I read the principal works both of\nCatholics and Protestants, of the Fathers and Reformers, of Churchmen\nand Dissenters, of Quakers and Mystics, of Methodists and Calvinists, of\nUnitarians and Infidels.\n\nI read several works on Law and Government, including Puffendorf's Law\nof Nature, Grotius on the Laws of Peace and War, Bodin on Government,\nMontesquieu's Spirit of Laws, Blackstone's Commentaries, and Jeremy\nTaylor's Ductor Dubitantium. I had read works on Anatomy, Physiology and\nMedicine, when I could get hold of them, from the time when I was only\ntwelve years old. I never went far into any other sciences, yet I\nstudied, to some extent, Astronomy, Geology, Physical Geography, Botany,\nNatural History, and Anthropology. I read Wesley's publication on\nNatural Philosophy, and I gave more or less attention to every work on\nscience and natural philosophy that came in my way. Works on natural\nreligion and natural theology, in which science was taught and used in\nsubservience to Christian truth and duty, I read whenever I could get\nhold of them. They interested me exceedingly. For works on Painting,\nSculpture, Architecture, I had not the least regard. They seemed to\nhave no tendency to help me in the work in which I was engaged, and I\nhad no desire to talk respectable nonsense on such subjects. I was fond\nof Ecclesiastical and Civil History, and read most greedily such works\nas threw light on the progress of society in learning, science, and\nuseful arts; in freedom, morals, religion and government. I read many of\nthe works of the ancient Greeks and Romans, and the history of the\nwonderful periods in which they flourished. I was especially fond of\nCicero, Seneca, and Epictetus. All subjects bearing on the great\ninterests of mankind, and all works revealing the workings of the human\nmind and the laws of human nature, seemed to me to bear important\nrelations to religion and the Bible; and the writings of the great\nphilosophers, lawyers, and historians, appeared to be almost as much in\nmy line as Baxter's Christian Directory, or Wesley's Notes on the New\nTestament.\n\nTales of wars and intrigues, and of royal and aristocratic vices and\nfollies I hated. Yet I was interested in accounts of religious\ncontroversies, and read with eagerness, though with pain and horror, the\ntragic and soul-harrowing stories of the deadly conflicts between\nChristian piety and anti-Christian intolerance. Above all I loved\nwell-written books on the beneficial influence of Christianity on the\ntemporal interests and the general happiness of mankind. I liked good\nbiographies, especially of celebrated students, great philosophers, and\nremarkable Christian philanthropists. Of works of fiction I read very\nfew, and evermore still fewer as I got older, until at length I came to\nview them generally as a great nuisance. There are few, I suppose, that\ncan say they read the whole, not only of Wesley's works, but of his\nChristian Library, in fifty volumes; yet I went through the whole,\nthough one of the books was so profound, or else so silly, that I could\nnot find one sentence in it that I could properly understand. I read the\ngreater part of the books of my friends. I went through nearly the whole\nlibrary of a village about two miles distant from my native place. My\nnative place itself could not boast a library in those days. I read\nscores, if not hundreds of books that taught me nothing but the\nignorance and self-conceit of the writers, and the various forms of\nliterary and religious insanity to which poor weak humanity is liable.\n\nThere was a large old Free Library at Newcastle-on-Tyne, left to the\ncity by a celebrated clergyman, which contained all the Fathers, all the\nGreek and Roman Classics, all the more celebrated of the old Infidels,\nall the old leading skeptical and lawless writers of Italy, and France,\nand Holland, all the great old Church of England writers, and all the\nleading writers of the Nonconformists, Dissenters, and Heretics of all\nkinds. To this library I used to go, day after day, and stay from\nmorning to night, reading some of the great authors through, and\nexamining almost all of them sufficiently to enable me to see what there\nwas _in_ each, that I had not met with in the rest. Here I read Hobbes\nand Machiavel, Bolingbroke and Shaftesbury, Tindal and Chubb. Here I\nfirst saw the works of Cudworth and Chillingworth, and here too I first\nfound the entire works of Bacon and Newton, of Locke and Boyle. Here\nalso I read the works of some of the older defenders of the faith.\nGrotius on the truth of the Christian religion I had read much earlier.\nI had used it as a school book, translating it both out of Latin into\nEnglish, and out of English back into Latin, imprinting it thereby\nalmost word for word upon my memory. I had also read the work of his\ncommentator on the causes of incredulity. Leland on the deistical\nwriters, and Paley's Evidences, and others, I read after. But in this\ngreat old library I met with numbers of interesting and important works\nthat I have never met with since. And here, in the dimly lighted\nantiquated rooms, I used to fill my mind with a world of facts, and\nthoughts, and fancies, and then go away to meditate upon them while\ntravelling on my way, or sitting in my room, or lying on my bed. Day and\nnight, alone and in company, these were the things which filled my mind\nand exercised my thoughts.\n\nAnd having a rather retentive memory, and considerable powers of\nimagination, I was able at times to bring almost all the things of\nimportance which I had met with in my reading, before my mind, and\ncompare them both with each other, and with all that was already in my\nmemory. And whatever appeared to me most rational, most scriptural, I\ntreasured for future use, allowing the rest to drift away into\nforgetfulness.\n\nNo one can imagine the happiness I found in this my search after truth,\nexcept those who have experienced the like. I seemed at times to live in\na region of the highest and divinest bliss. Every fresh discovery of\ntruth, every detection of old error, every enlargement of my views,\nbrought unspeakable rapture; and had it not been for the\nnarrow-mindedness of some of my friends, the restraints of established\ncreeds, and the thought of the trials which my mental revels might some\nday bring on me and my family, my life would have been a heaven on\nearth.\n\nPerhaps I read too much, or too greedily and variously. Would it not in\nany case have been better for me to have refrained from reading the\nwritings of such a host of heretics, infidels, and mere natural\nphilosophers? It is certain that what I attempted was too much for my\npowers, and too vast for one man's life. But I was not sufficiently\nconscious of the infinitude of truth, or of the narrow limits of my\npowers, or of the infinite mysteries of which humanity and the universe\nare full. And my desire for knowledge was infinite, and my appetite was\nvery keen, and I was so desirous to be right on every subject bearing on\nthe religion of Christ, and on the great interests of mankind, that\nnothing that I could do seemed too much if it seemed likely to help me\nin the attainment of my object.\n\nThen I had no considerate and enlightened guide; no friend, no\ncolleague, with a father's heart, to direct me in my studies or my\nchoice of books. There was one minister in the Body to which I belonged\nthat might have given me good counsel, if he had been at hand, but he\nand I were never stationed in the same neighborhood. And he had suffered\nso much on account of his superior intelligence and liberal tendencies,\nthat he might have felt unwilling to advise me freely. The preachers\ngenerally could not understand me, and they had no sympathy with my\neager longings for religious knowledge. They could not comprehend what\nin the world I could want beyond their own old stereotyped notions and\nphrases, and the comfortable provision made for the supply of my\ntemporal wants. Why could I not check my thinking, enjoy my popularity,\nand rejoice in the success of my labors? And when I could not take their\nflippant counsels, they had nothing left but hints at unpleasant\nconsequences. There was nothing for me therefore, but to follow the\npromptings of my own insatiate soul, and travel on alone in the fear of\nGod, hoping that things would get better, and my prospects grow brighter\nby and by.\n\nSo I moved on in my own track, still digging for truth as for silver,\nand searching for it as for hidden treasure. And I worked unceasingly,\nand with all my might. I lost no time. I hated pleasure parties, and all\nkinds of amusements. My work was my amusement. I hated company, unless\nthe subject of conversation could be religion, or something pertaining\nto it. When obliged to go out and take dinner, or tea, or supper, I\nalways took a book or two with me, and if the company were not inclined\nto spend the time in useful conversation, I would slip away into some\nquiet room, or take a walk, and spend my time in reading. I always read\non my walks and on my journeys, if the weather was fair, and on some\noccasions when it was not fair. My mind was always on the stretch. I had\nno idea that I needed rest or recreation. It never entered into my mind\nthat I could get to the end of my mental strength, and when I was\nactually exhausted,--when I had wearied both body and mind to the\nutmost, so that writing and even reading became irksome to me, I still\naccused myself of idleness, instead of suspecting myself of weariness. I\nwonder that I lived. If my constitution had not been sound and elastic\nto the last degree, I should have worn myself out, and been silent in\nthe dust, more than thirty years ago.\n\n7. All the time that I was laboring to correct and enlarge my views of\nChristian truth and duty, I was endeavoring to improve my way of\nspeaking and writing. I wished, of course, to be able to speak and write\ncorrectly and forcibly, but what I longed for most of all, was to be\nable to speak with the greatest possible plainness and simplicity to the\npoorer and less favored classes. If there were things in Christianity\nthat were inexplicable mysteries, I had no wish to meddle with them at\nall; if there was nothing but what was explicable, I wished to be able\nto speak in such a manner as to make the whole subject of religion plain\nto them. My belief was that there were _not_ any inexplicable mysteries\nin Christianity; that though there were doctrines in Christianity which\nhad been mysteries in earlier times, they were mysteries now no longer,\nbut revelations; that the things which were inexplicable mysteries,\nbelonged to God, and that none but things that were revealed belonged to\nus. My impression was, that all things spiritual could be made as plain\nto people of common sense and honest hearts, as things natural; that all\nthat was necessary to this end, was first to separate from Christianity\nall that was _not_ Christianity, and secondly, to translate Christianity\nout of Latin and Greek, Hebrew and Gibberish, into the language of the\ncommon people.\n\nTo qualify myself for this work of translation was the next great object\nof all my studies. Paul regarded the unnecessary use of unknown tongues\nin the assemblies of the Church, as a great nuisance. He demanded that\neverything said in those assemblies, should be spoken in a language that\nall could understand. Whether men prayed, or sang, or preached, he\ninsisted that they should do it in such a manner as to make themselves\nintelligible. His remarks on this subject are the perfection of wisdom,\nand deserve more attention from religious teachers than they are\naccustomed to receive. Paul's wish was, that Christians should not only\nall speak the same things, but that they should speak them in the same\nway, so that they might all be able to understand each other, and that\noutsiders might be able to understand them all. \"Above all gifts,\" says\nhe, \"covet the gift of plain and intelligible speaking. Never use an\nunknown tongue so long as you can use a known one. He that speaketh in\nan unknown tongue speaketh not unto men but unto God: for no man\nunderstandeth him. He may talk about very good things, but no one is the\nbetter for his talk. But he that speaketh in a known tongue can be\nunderstood by all; and all are instructed, and comforted, and\nstrengthened. And even God can understand a known tongue as well as an\nunknown one. He that speaketh in an unknown tongue may edify himself\nperhaps; but he that speaketh in a known one, edifieth the Church. I do\nnot grudge you your unknown tongues, but I had a great deal rather you\nwould use a known one; for greater is he that speaketh in a known one,\nthan he that speaketh in an unknown one. True greatness does not consist\nin saying or doing things wonderful; but in saying and doing things\nuseful,--in talking and acting in a loving, condescending,\nself-sacrificing spirit, with a view to the comfort and welfare of our\nbrethren. Suppose I were to come to you speaking in tongues that you did\nnot understand, what good should I do you, unless I should translate\nwhat I said into a tongue you could understand? And why should I say a\nthing twice over when saying it once would do as well, and even better?\nEverything should be made as plain as possible from the first. When you\nhave made things as plain as you can, there will be some that will find\nit as much as they can do to catch your meaning. If you talk in an\nunknown tongue they cannot get at your meaning at all, but only sit, and\nstare, and sigh. Some poor silly souls may admire and applaud you; for\nthere are always some who, when they hear a man that they cannot\nunderstand, will cry out, What a great preacher! But what good or\nsensible man would wish for the praise of such creatures as those? Talk\nintelligibly. Talk so that folks can tell what you are talking about. If\nyou have nothing worth saying, hold your tongues. If you _have_\nsomething worth saying, say it so that people can understand it. Make\neverything as clear as possible. We might as well be without tongues as\ntalk unintelligibly. Even things without life, giving sound, whether\npipe or harp, except they give a distinction in the sounds, how shall it\nbe known what is piped or harped? For if the trumpet give an uncertain\nsound, who shall prepare himself to the battle? So likewise ye, except\nye utter by the tongue words easy to be understood, how shall it be\nknown what is spoken? for ye shall speak into the air. There are, no one\nknows how many voices in the world; and none of them without\nsignification. The voices of birds and the voices of beasts are endless\nin variety; yet each has its own distinct intelligible meaning. All\ncreatures, though destitute of language like that of man, make\nthemselves properly understood by their mates, their kindred, and their\nassociates. They even make themselves intelligible to men. Talk of great\npreachers;--why the man that cannot or will not preach so as to make\nhimself understood, is smaller, lower, less in the esteem of God, and\nof good, sensible, Christian men and women, than the lowest animal, or\nthe smallest insect, on the face of the earth. Every sheep that bleats,\nevery ox that lows, every ass that brays, every bird that sings, and\nevery goose that gabbles, is more of a sage, if not more of a saint,\nthan the great preachers! The things so-called by a certain class of\nsimpletons, are about the most pitiable, if not the most blameable\ncreatures, in all God's universe. What then is the upshot of what I am\nsaying? It is this. Whether I sing, or pray, or talk, I will make myself\nunderstood. I thank my God, I can speak with tongues more than you all;\nand I _do_ speak with them when it is necessary to do so in order to\nmake myself understood: but in the Church, I had rather speak five words\nin a tongue and a style that my hearers can understand, that by my voice\nI may teach others, than ten thousand in an unknown tongue.\"\n\nAnd so the great, good, common-sense Apostle goes on.\n\nMy wish and purpose were to carry out his principles to the farthest\npossible extent. If I had tried hard, I could have preached in Latin.\nWith a little more effort I could have preached in Greek. I could have\npreached in the ordinary, high-sounding, Frenchified, Latinized, mongrel\nstyle, without an effort. It required an effort to keep clear of the\nabomination. And I made the effort. I wanted to feel when speaking, that\nI had not only myself a proper understanding of what I was talking\nabout, but that I was conveying correct and clear ideas of it to the\nminds of my hearers. To utter words which I did not understand, or words\nwhich I could not make my hearers understand, was a thing I could not\nendure; and to this day, the very idea of such a thing excites in me a\nkind of horror. I had no ambition to preach what were called great\nsermons, or to be what was called a great preacher. My great desire was\nnot to astonish or confound people, but to do them good; to convey\nreligious truth to their minds in such a way, and so to impress it on\ntheir hearts, that they might be converted, edified, and saved.\n\nWhen I first began to preach I had a cousin who was commencing his\ncareer as a minister at the same time. _He_ was ambitious to shine, and\nto astonish his hearers by a show of learning. He knew nothing of Latin\nand Greek, but he was fond of great high-sounding words of Greek and\nLatin origin. He carried about with him a pocket dictionary, which he\nused for the purpose of turning little words into big ones, and common\nones into strange ones. My taste was just the contrary. My desire was to\nbe as simple as possible. Like my companion, I often carried about with\nme a pocket dictionary, but the end for which _I_ used it was, to help\nme to turn big words into little ones, and strange and hard ones into\ncommon and easy ones. And whenever I had to consult a dictionary in\ntranslating Latin, or Greek, or any other language, into English, I\nalways took the simplest and best known words I could find to give the\nmeaning of the original. My cousin's desire to shine betrayed him at\ntimes into very ridiculous blunders. I once heard him say, after having\nspent some time in explaining his text, \"But that I may _devil-hope_ the\nsubject a little more fully, I would observe, that the words are\n_mephitical_.\" He, of course, meant to say, _metaphorical_, figurative,\nnot _mephitical_ which means of a _bad smell_. My plan secured me\nagainst such mistakes.\n\nTo assist me in gaining a knowledge of the true meaning, and of the\nright use of words, and to correct and simplify my style as much as\npossible, I read whatever came in my way on grammar and philology, on\nrhetoric and logic. I also collected a number of the best English\ndictionaries, including a beautiful copy of Johnson's great work in two\nthick quarto volumes. I read and studied the works of nearly all our\ngreat poets, from Spenser and Shakespeare, down to Cowper and Burns. I\nread two or three later ones. I had already committed to memory the\nwhole, or nearly the whole, of the moral songs of Dr. Watts; and many of\nthem keep their places in my memory to the present day. And though it\nmay seem incredible to some, I actually committed to memory every hymn\nin the Wesleyan Hymn Book. I never knew them all off at one time, but I\ngot them all off in succession. And I never forgot the better, truer,\nsimpler, sweeter ones. I can repeat hundreds of them still, with the\nexception of here and there a stanza or two. And I committed to memory\nall the better portion of the new hymns introduced into the hymn book\nby the Methodist New Connection. And I committed to memory choice pieces\nof poetry without number. I read Shakespeare till I could quote many of\nhis best passages, including nearly all his soliloquies, and a number of\nlong conversations, as readily as I could quote the sacred writings.\n\nI read all Bunyan's works. I could tell the story of his Pilgrim from\nbeginning to end. I read Robinson Crusoe, and some of the other works of\nDefoe. I read Addison and Johnson, Goldsmith and Swift. To get at the\norigin and at the primitive meaning of words, I studied French and\nGerman, as well as Latin and Greek. When I met with passages in English\nauthors that expressed great truths in a style that was not to my taste,\nI used to translate them into my own style, just as I did fine passages\nfrom Latin, Greek, or French authors. I also translated poetical\npassages into prose. I tried sometimes to translate things into the\nlanguage of children, and in some cases I succeeded. I did my best to\nkeep in mind how I felt, and what I could understand, when I was a child\nand a boy, and endeavored to keep my style as near as I could to the\nlevel of my boyish understanding. My first superintendent did not\napprove of my plan. \"The proper way,\" said he, \"is, not to go down to\nthe people; but to compel the people to come up to you.\" He was fond of\na swelling, high-sounding, long-winded style. How far he succeeded in\nbringing people up to himself, I cannot say, but I recollect once\nhearing a pupil of his talk a whole hour without uttering either a\nthought or a feeling that was worth a straw. An old woman, with whom he\nhad once lived, and with whom he was a great favorite, said to me after\nthe service, 'Well, how did you like our young man?' 'He talked away,'\nsaid I. 'I think he did,' she answered, 'he grows better and better. _I_\ncouldn't understand him.' His teacher, my superintendent, published a\nvolume of sermons; but I never met with anybody that had read them. I\nread one or two of them myself, and was astonished;--perhaps not so much\nastonished as something else,--to find, that at the end of one of his\ntall-worded, long-winded, round-about sentences, he contradicted what he\nhad said at the beginning.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nCHANGES IN THE AUTHOR'S VIEWS.\n\n\nMy studies led me to make considerable changes both in my views and way\nof speaking.\n\n1. With regard to my views. I found that some of the doctrines which I\nhad been taught as Christian doctrines, were not so much as hinted at by\nChrist and His Apostles,--that some doctrines which Christ and His\nApostles taught with great plainness, I never had been taught at all;\nand that some of the doctrines of Christ and His Apostles which I had\nbeen taught, I had been taught in very different forms from those in\nwhich they were presented in the New Testament.\n\nI found that some doctrines which I had been taught as doctrines of the\ngreatest importance, were never so much as alluded to in the whole\nBible, while in numbers of places quite contrary doctrines were taught.\nWhile unscriptural doctrines were inculcated as fundamental doctrines of\nthe Gospel, some of the fundamental doctrines themselves were not only\nneglected, but denounced as grievous heresies.\n\nMany passages of Scripture which were perfectly plain when left to speak\nout their own meaning, had been used so badly by theologians, that they\nhad become unintelligible to ordinary Christians. While professing to\ngive the passages needful explanations, they had heaped upon them\nimpenetrable obscurations. Words that, as they came from Jesus, were\nspirit and life, had been so grievously perverted, that they had become\nmeaningless or mischievous.\n\nI met with passages which had been used as proofs of doctrines to which\nthey had not the slightest reference. There were the words of Jeremiah\nfor instance: \"Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his\nspots?\" The prophet is speaking of the impossibility of men, after long\ncontinuance in wilful sin, breaking off their bad habits; as the closing\nwords of the passage show; \"Then may ye who are _accustomed_ to do evil,\ndo well.\" But the theologians took the words and used them in support of\nthe doctrine that no man in his unconverted state can do anything\ntowards his salvation,--a doctrine which is neither Scriptural nor\nrational. Again; Isaiah, referring to the calamitous condition of the\nJewish nation, in consequence of God's judgments, says: \"The whole head\nis sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot to the\nhead, there is no soundness; but wounds, and bruises, and putrefying\nsores,\" &c. This, which the prophet said with regard to the _state_ of\nthe _Jews_, the theologians applied to the _character_, not of the Jews\nonly, but of _all mankind_. What Paul said about the law of Moses, and\nthe works or deeds required by that law, the theologians applied to the\nlaw of Christ. And so with regard to multitudes of passages. I was\nconstantly coming across passages that the theologians systematically\nperverted, taking them from their proper use and meaning, and forcing\nthem into the support of notions to which they had not the slightest\nreference. The liberties taken with the words of Paul went far towards\nturning the writings of that great advocate and example of holiness into\nlessons of licentiousness.\n\nIt was plain that, on many points, theology was one thing, and\nChristianity another; and that many and important changes would have to\nbe made in the creeds and confessions of Christendom, before they could\nbe brought into harmony with the truth as taught by Jesus.\n\nSome theological doctrines I found rested on the authority of Milton's\nParadise Lost, or of the Church of England Prayer Book, or on the\nauthority of earlier works from which Milton or the authors of the\nPrayer Book had borrowed.\n\nOne day, about forty-two years ago, I was travelling homewards from\nShields to Blyth on foot, when a man with a cart overtook me, and asked\nme to get in and ride. I did so. The man and I were soon busy discussing\ntheology. We talked on saving faith, imputed righteousness,\npredestination, divine foreknowledge, election, reprobation and\nredemption. We differed on every point, and the man got very warm. He\nthen spake of a covenant made between God the Father and His Son before\nthe creation of the world, giving me all the particulars of the\nengagement. I told him I had read something about a covenant of that\nkind in Milton's Paradise Lost, but that I had never met with anything\non the subject in the sacred writings, and added that I doubted whether\nany such transaction ever took place. He got more excited than ever, and\nexpressed some uneasiness at having such a blasphemous heretic in his\ncart. Just then one of the cart wheels came off and down went the\nvehicle on one side, spilling me and the driver on the road. I was\nquickly on my feet, but he lay on his back sprawling in the sand.\n\"That's a judgment,\" said he, \"on your blasphemies.\" \"You seem to have\ngot the worst part of the judgment,\" said I. I asked him if I could help\nhim. He seemed to hint that I ought to pay for the damage done to the\ncart; but as that was not in the covenant, I did not take the hint; and\nas he was in a somewhat unamiable temper, I left him to himself, and\ntrudged on homeward. The carter and I had no more discussions on\ncovenants. But many a bit of theology has been built on Milton since\nthen.\n\nOther doctrines I found to be new versions of old pagan imaginations.\n\nSome seemed to have originated in the selfish and sensual principles of\nhuman nature, which make men wishful to avoid self-denial and a life of\nbeneficence, and to find some easy way to heaven.\n\nIn some cases Protestants had run into extremes through a hatred and\nhorror of Popery, while in others orthodox teachers had run into\nextremes through hatred and dread of Socinianism.\n\nIn other cases doctrines seemed to have been rested on no authority but\nthe facts, or supposed facts, of individual experiences.\n\nSome great doctrines were rendered incomprehensible, repulsive, or\nincredible, in consequence of not being accompanied with other\ndoctrines, which were necessary to explain their use, and make manifest\ntheir reasonableness and worth. There was no lack of attention among\ntheologians to the doctrine that Christ was an incarnation of the Deity;\nbut little or no regard was paid to the kindred doctrine, its necessary\naccompaniment, that Jesus was the 'image,' the 'likeness,' of God, the\nrevelation or manifestation of His character. Yet this is essential to a\nright understanding and a due appreciation of the other. The revelation\nor manifestation of God, and especially of His eternal and infinite\nlove, was the great design and end of the incarnation. Taken apart from\nthis doctrine the incarnation becomes a dry hard fact, without use or\nmeaning. It is when viewed as a means of revealing God,--of making\nmanifest His infinite goodness, and by that means melting and purifying\nman's heart, and transforming his character, that it is seen to be full\nof interest and power and glory.\n\nThe doctrine that Jesus is God's image, God manifest in the flesh, is\nthe one great doctrine of Christianity,--the sum, the substance of the\nwhole Gospel,--the Gospel itself,--the power of God to the salvation of\nevery one that truly believes and contemplates it. It is a world of\ntruth in one,--a whole encyclopaedia of divine philosophy; the perfection\nof all wisdom and of all power; the one great revelation needful to the\nsalvation of the world.\n\nYet I never met with this doctrine for the first thirty years of my\nlife, in any theological work. I have no recollection that I ever heard\nit mentioned in a sermon. I certainly never heard it explained and\napplied to the great purposes for which it was designed. I never was\ntold that to know the character of God, I had only to look at the\ncharacter of Christ,--that what Christ was during His life on earth in\nthe circle in which He moved, that God was throughout all worlds, and\ntowards all the creatures of His hands,--that the love which led Jesus\nto suffer and die for the salvation of the world, lived and moved in the\nheart of the infinite, invisible God, prompting Him to plan and labor\nthroughout immensity to promote the happiness of the whole creation. In\nshort, the Gospel was never preached to me in its simplicity and beauty,\nin its glory and power, nor was it ever properly explained to me in\ncatechism, creed, confession, or body of divinity.\n\nAnd generally, no sufficient stress was ever laid by theologians on the\nvalue and necessity of personal virtue,--of religious and moral\ngoodness. It was believed that Christians would _have_ goodness of some\nkind, in some degree,--that they would be, on the whole, in some\nrespects, better than the ungodly world; and there was a feeling that\nthey _ought_ to be so: but it was rare to meet with a preacher or a\nbook that put the subject in any thing like a Scriptural Christian\nlight. No one contended that goodness was everything, that it was the\none great all-glorious object for which the world was made, for which\nthe universe was upheld, for which prophets spake, for which the\nScriptures were written, for which God became incarnate, for which Jesus\nlived and labored, for which He suffered and died, for which He founded\nHis Church and appointed and endowed its ministers, for which Providence\nplanned, and for which all things continued to exist. No one taught that\ngoodness was the only thing for which God cared, the only thing which He\nesteemed and loved, and the only thing He would reward and bless. Books\nand preachers did not use to tell us, that faith, and knowledge, and\nfeeling,--that repentance, conversion, and sanctification,--that reading\nthe Scriptures, and hearing sermons, and singing hymns, and offering\nprayers,--that church fellowship, and religious ordinances, were all\nnothing except so far as they tended to make people good, and then to\nmake them better, and at last to perfect them in all divine and human\nexcellence. No one taught us that goodness was beauty, that goodness was\ngreatness, that goodness was glory, that goodness was happiness, that\ngoodness was heaven. The truth was never pressed on us that the want of\ngoodness was deformity, dishonor and shame,--that it was pain, and\nwretchedness, and torment, and death,--that goodness in full measure\nwould make earth heaven--that its decline and disappearance would make\nearth hell. Yet a careful and long-continued perusal of the Scriptures\nleft the impression on my mind, that this was really the case. When I\ncompared the eternal talk about all our goodness being of no account in\nthe sight of God,--of all our righteousness being but as filthy\nrags,--with the teachings of Scripture, I felt as if theologians were\nanti-christ, and their theology the gospel of the wicked one. I have no\nwish to do injustice to theology, or to theologians either; but the more\nI knew of them, the less I thought of them. And even when the Christian\nand theologian got blended, as they did, to some extent, in such men as\nBaxter and Wesley, I pitied the theologian while I esteemed and loved\nthe Christian. Theological works are poor contemptible things. It would\nhave been no great loss to the world if nineteen-twentieths of them had\nbeen burnt in the Chicago fire.\n\nI was often grievously harassed with prevailing theories of Scripture\ninspiration. All those theories seemed inconsistent with\nfacts,--inconsistent with what every man of any information, knew to be\ntrue in reference to the Scriptures. They all lay open to infidel\nobjections,--unanswerable objections. They made it impossible for a man\nto argue with the abler and better informed class of infidel assailants\nwith the success and satisfaction desirable. The theories did not\n_admit_ of a successful defence. And when the theories were refuted, the\nBible and Christianity suffered. On searching the Scriptures I found\nthey gave no countenance to those theories. They taught the _doctrine_\nof Scripture inspiration, but not the prevailing _theories_ of the\ndoctrine. The doctrine I could defend with ease: the defence of the\ntheories was impossible. I accordingly laid aside the theories.\n\nAgain; I heard and read continually about the influence and work of the\nHoly Spirit; but I seldom heard and read of the influence of the truth.\nYet in Scripture we read as much and as often of the latter as of the\nformer.\n\nI had been led, in some way, to believe that Adam was the federal head\nof all mankind,--that God made a covenant with him that was binding on\nall his posterity,--that the destinies of the whole human race were\nplaced in his hands,--that it was so arranged that if Adam did right,\nhis posterity were to be born in a state of perfection and blessedness,\nincapable of sin and misery,--that if he did wrong they were to be born\ndepraved and miserable, under the curse of God, and liable to death and\ndamnation--that as Adam did do wrong, we all came into the world so\ndepraved that we were incapable of thinking a good thought, of feeling a\ngood desire, of speaking a right word, or of doing a right thing,--that\nJesus came into the world to redeem us from the guilt of Adam's sin, and\nfrom the punishment due to us for that sin, and to put us on such a\nfooting with regard to God as to render possible our salvation. I had\nbeen led to believe a hundred other things connected with these about\nthe plan of redemption, the way of salvation, imputed righteousness,\nsaving faith, &c. When I came to look for those doctrines in the Bible,\nI could not find one of them from the beginning of the Book to the end.\nI was in consequence led to regard them as the imaginations of\nunthinking, trifling, or dreamy theologians.\n\nThere are few doctrines more generally received than the doctrine of\ntypes,--the doctrine that persons and things under the older\ndispensations were intended to direct the minds of those who saw them to\nthings corresponding to them under the Christian dispensation. In\nMcEwen's work on Types, which appears to have had an immense\ncirculation, is this sentence,--'That the grand doctrines of\nChristianity concerning the mediation of Christ, &c., were typically\n_manifested_ to the church by a variety of ceremonies, persons and\nevents, under the Old Testament dispensation, is past doubt.' And it is\nvery plainly intimated, that those who affect to call this notion in\nquestion, and yet pretend to be friends of a divine revelation, are\nhypocrites. It is added: 'The sacrifices were ordained to pre-figure\nChrist,--and were professions of faith in His propitiation.'\n\nThere are but few preachers or religious books which do not go on the\nsupposition that this doctrine is taught in Scripture. And you may hear\nsermon after sermon from some preachers, the chief object of which is to\npoint out correspondences between the paschal lamb, the scape-goat, and\nother sacrifices under the Law, and Jesus and the sacrifice which He\noffered. Some preachers and religious writers take almost all things\nunder the law to be types of Christ, or types of things pertaining to\nHim. They make Noah, and Isaac, and Melchisedec, and Joseph, and Moses,\nand Joshua, and David, and Samson, and Solomon, and the brazen serpent,\nand the rod of Aaron, and the manna, types of Christ, and almost all the\nsacrifices they make types of His great sacrifice of Himself.\n\nI could see no warrant for this doctrine. I could find no proof that any\nof the sacrifices under the law were intended to direct the minds of\nthose who offered them to the sacrifice of Jesus. There is nothing in\nthe law, and there is nothing in the prophets to that effect. There is\nno passage of Scripture which says that any one ever _did_ look through\nthe old Levitical sacrifices to Christ. There is no passage which says\nit was men's duty to do so; none which commends any one for doing so,\nor which blames any one for not doing so. The prophets often rebuke the\nIsraelites for their injustice, intemperance, deceit and cruelty, but\nthey never rebuke them for not looking through their sacrifices to the\nsacrifice of Jesus. They often exhort people to 'cease to do evil and\nlearn to do well;' but they never urge them to regard their sacrifices\nas types or manifestations of the sacrifice of Christ. Christ nowhere\nteaches the ordinary doctrine of types. He never refers to anything as a\ntype of His sacrifice, or of anything else connected with His work. Nor\ndo the Apostles say anything to countenance the prevailing notion. For\nanything the Scriptures say to the contrary, the whole doctrine of\ntypes, as set forth in such books as that of McEwen, is a human fiction.\nIndeed, I see no hint in Scripture that any one had the least idea that\nthe Messiah would offer Himself a sacrifice for sin till after the\nsacrifice had taken place. Isaiah and Daniel spake on the subject, and\n'They inquired and searched diligently,' says Peter, 'what, or what\nmanner of time the spirit of Christ which was in them did signify, when\nit testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glory that\nshould follow; unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but\nunto us they did minister the things, which are now reported unto you by\nthem that have preached the gospel unto you with the Holy Ghost sent\ndown from Heaven.' And we know that Christ's own disciples did not\nbelieve that Christ would die at all. So far were they from having any\nthought of such a thing, that when Jesus told them, in the plainest\nwords imaginable, they did not understand Him. The fact had to reveal\nitself. And even now the nature and end of Christ's sacrifice are but\nvery imperfectly understood.\n\nAnd if the doctrine of types falls to the ground, some other doctrines,\nwhich rest upon it, must go down. Certain notions about the faith of the\nancient saints must give way, and the views of saving faith presented in\nthe eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews must take their\nplace.\n\nGreat numbers of religious teachers and writers attribute to Adam and\nEve, in their first state, an amount of knowledge, and a perfection of\nrighteousness, which the Scriptures nowhere ascribe to them, and which,\nif they had possessed them, would have rendered it impossible, one\nwould think, that they should have yielded so readily to temptation.\n\nThey represent the first sin as having effects which are never\nattributed to it in the Bible.\n\nThey give an unwarrantable meaning to the word death contained in the\nfirst threatening.\n\nThey attribute to man's first sin inconveniences of the seasons, and of\nthe different climates of the globe, as well as a thousand things on the\nearth's surface, and in the dispositions and habits of the lower\nanimals, which are not attributed _to_ that cause by the sacred writers.\n\nThey spend a vast amount of time and words in trying to prove that the\nreason why Abel's sacrifice was more excellent than that of Cain, and\nwas accepted by God, was that Abel offered animals, and had an eye to\nthe sacrifice of Christ, while Cain offered only the fruits of the\nground, that did not typify or symbolize that sacrifice; a notion for\nwhich there is no authority in Scripture. The story in Genesis seems to\nintimate that the sacrifice of Cain was rejected because he was a\nbad-living man, and that the sacrifice of Abel was accepted because he\nwas a good-living man. Hence the words of God in His address to Cain,\n'Why art thou wroth? And why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest\nwell shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth\nat the door.' And hence too the statement of John, that Cain slew his\nbrother because his own works were evil and his brother's righteous. And\nthe faith attributed to Abel, as well as to Enoch, Moses and others, in\nthe Epistle to the Hebrews, is not faith in the sacrifice of Christ, but\nsimply a belief in God; a belief that 'He _is_, and that He is a\nrewarder of them that diligently seek Him, or lovingly serve Him.'\n\nThere were many definitions and descriptions of saving faith common in\nreligious books for which I could find no authority in Scripture.\n\nI also met with a multitude of cold hard things about the Trinity and\nthe Atonement in works on Theology which I never was unhappy enough to\nfind in the Bible. All seemed pleasant and natural and of heavenly\ntendency there. I read books which seemed to require me to believe in\nthree Gods; but I met with nothing of the kind in Scripture. I heard\nprayers and forms of benediction worded in a way altogether different\nfrom the prayers and benedictions found in the Bible. The Scriptures\nallowed me to think of God, in the first place, as one, as I myself was\none. They did not tell me He was three in the same way as I was three;\nbut they left the doctrine of the Trinity in such a state or shape that\nI found no more difficulty in receiving it, than I found in receiving\nthe fact of a Trinity in myself. I left accordingly the hard repulsive\nrepresentations of the theologians to their fate, and accepted and\ncontented myself with the living, rational and practical representations\nof Scripture in their stead.\n\nThe work of Christ was generally represented by theologians as exerting\nits influence directly on God. His death was generally spoken of as a\nsatisfaction to divine justice, or as an expedient for harmonizing the\ndivine attributes, or maintaining the principles of the divine\ngovernment. God was represented as being placed in a difficulty,--as\nbeing unable to gratify His love in forgiving men on their repenting and\nturning to Him, without violating His justice and His truth, and putting\nin peril the principles of His government. There were several other\ntheological theories of the design or object of the death of Christ. All\nthese theories may be true in a certain sense. They may, perhaps, be so\nexplained as to make them harmonize with the teachings of Scripture. But\nI found none of them in the Bible. I found multitudes of passages which\nrepresented the death and sufferings of Christ as intended to influence\nmen, but not one that taught any of the theological theories,--hardly\none that even seemed to do so. Here again I took the Scripture\nrepresentations, and allowed the theological ones to slide.\n\nThere was a hymn which said of Christ, 'Our debt He has paid, and our\nwork He has done.' I could find nothing in Scripture about the Saviour\npaying our debt, or doing our work. I could find passages which taught\nthat our debts or sins might be _forgiven_, on our return to God. So far\nwere the Scriptures from teaching that Christ had done our work, that\nthey represented Him as coming into the world to fit us to do it\nourselves,--as redeeming us and creating us anew that we might be\nzealous of good works.\n\nI could find nothing in Scripture to countenance the common notion about\nthe efficacy of the death-bed repentances of old, wilful, hardened\nsinners. The Bible left on my mind the impression that 'whatsoever a man\nsoweth, that shall he also reap.'\n\nSome preachers and writers spoke as if God the Father was sterner, less\ntender and loving, than the Son. But as we have seen, the Bible taught\nthat Jesus was God's image, His likeness, the incarnation and revelation\nof God,--God manifest in the flesh.\n\nI read in books, and heard it said in sermons, that God did not answer\nmen's prayers, or grant them any blessing, or receive them at last to\nheaven, on account of anything good in themselves, or of anything good\nthey did. Yet on looking through the Scriptures I found such passages as\nthese: 'Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, _then_ have we confidence\ntoward God. And whatsoever we ask, we receive of Him, because we keep\nHis commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in His sight.'\nIn the parable of the talents I found God represented as saying, 'Well\ndone, thou good and faithful servant, because thou hast been faithful in\na very little, have thou authority over ten cities.' And in the Prophet\nI read, 'Again, when the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness\nthat he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he\nshall save his soul alive. Because he considereth and turneth away from\nall his transgressions that he hath committed, he shall surely live, he\nshall not die.' I found the whole Bible going on the same principle. God\nloves what is good for its own sake. It would be strange if He did not.\nAnd how any one can think He is honoring God by teaching the contrary we\ncannot understand.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nJOHN WESLEY AND HIS VIEWS ON CERTAIN POINTS.\n\n\nHow easy it is for men to mix up their own fancies, or the vain conceits\nof others, with divine truth,--or rather, how hard it is to _avoid_\ndoing so,--we may see by the case of John Wesley. Wesley was one of the\nmost devout, and conscientious, and, on the whole, one of the most\nrational, Scriptural, practical and common-sense men the Christian\nChurch ever had. Compared with theologians generally, he was worthy of\nthe highest praise. He had the greatest reverence for the Scriptures. He\nearly in life declared it to be his determination to be _a man of one\nBook_, and that one book the BIBLE; and he acted in accordance\nwith this determination to the best of his knowledge and ability. The\nBible was his sole authority. Its testimony decided all questions,\nsettled all controversies. Yet such was the influence of prevailing\ncustom in the theological world, operating on his mind unconsciously\nfrom his earliest days, that he unintentionally acted inconsistently\nwith this good resolution in cases without number. Shakespeare makes one\nof his characters say, \"If to do, were as easy as to know what is\nfittest to be done, beggars would ride on horses, and poor men's\ncottages would be princes' palaces. I could more easily tell twenty men\nwhat it was best to do, than be one of the twenty to carry out my own\ninstructions.\" And we need no better proof or illustration of the truth\nof this wise saying, than the case of the good and great John Wesley.\n\nWe have seen what his resolution was. Look now at one or two of his\nsermons. Take first the sermon on God's Approbation of His Works. In\nthat discourse, referring to the primeval earth, he speaks as follows:\n\"The _whole surface_ of it was beautiful in a high degree. The\n_universal face_ was clothed with living green. And every part was\n_fertile_ as well as beautiful. It was no where deformed by rough or\nragged rocks: it did not shock the view with horrid precipices, huge\nchasms, or dreary caverns: with deep, impassable morasses, or deserts\nof barren sands. We have not any authority to say, with some learned and\ningenious authors, that there were no _mountains_ on the original earth,\nno unevennesses on its surface, yet it is highly probable that they rose\nand fell, by almost insensible degrees.\n\n\"There were no agitations within the bowels of the globe: no violent\nconvulsions: no concussions of the earth: no earthquakes: but all was\nunmoved as the pillars of heaven. There were then no such things as\neruptions of fire: there were no volcanoes, or burning mountains.\nNeither Vesuvius, Etna, nor Hecla, if they had any being, then poured\nout smoke and flame, but were covered with a verdant mantle, from the\ntop to the bottom.\n\n\"It is probable there was no external sea in the paradisiacal earth:\nnone, until the great deep burst the barriers which were originally\nappointed for it; indeed there was not then that need of the ocean for\n_navigation_ which there is now. For either every country produced\nwhatever was requisite either for the necessity or comfort of its\ninhabitants; or man being then (as he will be again at the resurrection)\nequal to the angels, was able to convey himself, at his pleasure, to any\ngiven distance.\n\n\"There were no putrid lakes, no turbid or stagnating waters. The element\nof _air_ was then always serene, and always friendly to man. It\ncontained no frightful meteors, no unwholesome vapors, no poisonous\nexhalations. There were no tempests, but only cool and gentle breezes,\nfanning both man and beast, and wafting the fragrant odors on their\nsilent wings.\n\n\"The sun, the fountain of _fire_, 'Of this great world both eye and\nsoul,' was situated at the most exact distance from the earth, so as to\nyield a sufficient quantity of heat, (neither too little nor too much)\nto _every part of it_. God had not yet 'Bid his angels turn askance this\noblique globe.' There was, therefore, then no country that groaned under\n'The rage of Arctos, and eternal frost.' There was no violent winter, or\nsultry summer; no extreme either of heat or cold. No soil was burned up\nby the solar heat: none uninhabitable through the want of it.\n\n\"There were then no impetuous currents of air, no tempestuous winds, no\nfurious hail, no torrents of rain, no rolling thunders or forky\nlightnings. _One perennial spring was perpetually smiling over the whole\nsurface of the earth._\"\n\nSpeaking of vegetable productions, he says,\n\n\"There were no weeds, no plants that encumbered the ground. Much less\nwere there any _poisonous_ ones, tending to hurt any one creature.\"\n\nReferring to the living creatures of the sea, he says,\n\n\"None of these then attempted to devour, or in any wise hurt one\nanother. All were peaceful and quiet, as were the watery fields wherein\nthey ranged at pleasure.\"\n\nReferring to insects, he adds,\n\n\"The spider was then as harmless as the fly, and did not then lie in\nwait for blood. The weakest of them crept securely over the earth, or\nspread their gilded wings in the air, that wavered in the breeze and\nglittered in the sun, without any to make them afraid. Meantime, the\nreptiles of every kind were equally harmless, and more intelligent than\nthey.\"\n\nReferring to birds and beasts, he says,\n\n\"Among all these there were no birds or beasts of prey: none that\ndestroyed or molested another.\"\n\nAll this may be very beautiful poetry, such as one might expect from the\n\"fine frenzy\" of a loving, lawless genius, but it is not Scripture, nor\nis it science or philosophy. We have not a doubt but that God made all\nthings _right_,--that all His works were very _good_; the Scriptures\ntell us that very plainly: but they do _not_ tell us that the things\nnamed by Wesley constituted their goodness. _He_ thinks that the earth\ncould not be good if it had on its surface rough or rugged rocks, horrid\nprecipices, huge chasms, or dreary caverns, with impassable morasses, or\ndeserts of barren sands. _We_ think _otherwise_. _We_ think the earth is\nall the _better_, and even all the more _beautiful_ for rough and rugged\nrocks, for horrid precipices, huge chasms, and dreary caverns. So far\nfrom regarding the rough and rugged rocks as deformities, we look on\nthem as ornaments. So far from appearing to us as an evil, they appear a\ngood. Even the impassable morasses, and the deserts of barren sands may\nhave their use. If man had met with nothing in the state of the earth\nthat stood in the way of his will or pleasure; if he had met with\nnothing in the shape of difficulty or inconvenience, it would have been\na terrible calamity. All man's powers are developed and perfected by\nexertion; and without exertion,--without vigorous exertion--he would\nnot, as at present constituted, be capable of enjoying life. Man cannot\nbe happy without work. We therefore believe that it was wise and kind in\nGod, independent of Adam's sin, to make impassable morasses, and barren\ndeserts, &c., to exercise man's powers of mind and body in _draining_\nthe morasses, and _fertilizing_ the deserts. We believe that the earth\nwas very good; but we believe that the rough and rugged rocks, the\nhorrid precipices, huge chasms, dreary caverns, with the deep impassable\nmorasses, and the deserts of barren sands, were _parts_ of the earth's\ngoodness,--were manifestations both of the wisdom and goodness of God.\n\nWesley thinks there _were_ mountains on the earth before sin was\ncommitted, but that their sides were not _abrupt_ or _difficult of\nascent_; that they rose and fell by almost _insensible degrees_. This\npassage also goes on the false supposition, that whatever things would\nbe likely to render great exertion necessary on the part of man, would\nbe an evil; whereas such things are among man's greatest blessings.\n\nWesley farther tells us, that there were no agitations within the bowels\nof the earth, no violent convulsions, no concussions of the earth, no\nearthquakes, no eruptions of fire, no volcanoes, or burning mountains.\nThere is proof however, that there were _all_ these things, not only\n_before sin was committed_, but _before man himself was created_.\n\nNor do we regard earthquakes and volcanoes as evils. They are calculated\neven at the present to answer good ends. They tend to make men feel\ntheir absolute dependence upon God, and thus lead them to obey His law.\nThey are sinking revelations of God's power, and perpetual lessons of\npiety. And they have other uses.\n\nHe says, \"If Vesuvius, Etna, or Hecla, existed before sin was committed,\nthey were covered with a verdant mantle from the top to the bottom.\" But\nis a mountain either better or more beautiful for being covered with a\nverdant mantle from the top to the bottom? Is it either better or more\nbeautiful for having no abrupt sides, difficult of ascent,--for rising\nand falling by almost insensible degrees? We think the contrary. The\nvariety of scenery presented by mountains in their present state, is\nmost beautiful. The abruptness of the sides of mountains contributes\ninfinitely both to the beauty of the mountain, and to the beauty of the\nearth in general; and the toil of climbing up the steep ascent of a\nmountain is one of the blessings and pleasures of life. We should be\nsorry if there were no hills so steep as to be difficult of ascent. We\nshould be sorry if the earth had no mountains with abrupt sides, and\nblack, and brown, and rugged faces. We should be very sorry if the face\nof the earth were covered with one unvaried mantle of green. Green is\nvery pleasant, and it is well that the greater part of the earth is\ncovered with green; but variety also is pleasant; and green itself would\ncease to be pleasant if there were nothing else but green.\n\nWesley adds, that there was probably no sea on the surface of the earth\nin its paradisiacal state, none until the great deep burst the barriers\nwhich were originally appointed for it; and he adds, that there was not\nthen that need of the ocean for navigation which there is now, as every\nplace yielded all that was necessary to man's welfare and pleasure. We\nanswer. The idea that the ocean was given to facilitate communication\nbetween different nations, makes us smile. Suppose there had been no\nocean, should we have had a long way to go to get into the next country,\nthe country nearest to us? Just the contrary. If there had been no\nocean, there would have been land in its place, and we should neither\nhave had to cross water nor land to get to it. It would have come up\nclose to our own country. We have all the same travelling in order to\nhave communication with the inhabitants of other countries when we have\ncrossed the ocean, that we should have had, to obtain communication with\nneighboring countries, if there had been no ocean at all. The ocean was\nintended for _other_ purposes. The use of the ocean, one of its\n_principal_ uses at least, is to temper the climates and seasons of the\nearth. If the earth were one unbroken continent, the summers would be\nintolerably hot, and the winters would be intolerably cold, and the\nchanges from winter to summer would be so violent, and work such fearful\nhavoc, as to render the earth uninhabitable. By means of the _ocean_,\nthose intolerable inconveniences are avoided. The sea, which is never\nso cold in winter as the land, tempers the air as it blows over it, and\nthus moderates the cold of the land. The sea also, which is never so\nwarm in summer as the land, tempers the air again, and breathes coolness\nand freshness over the heated land. Neither heat nor cold affects the\nsea so suddenly or so violently as it affects the land. A few days of\nsummer heat are sufficient to make the solid earth quite hot,--so hot,\nin many cases, that you cannot bear your naked hand upon it long. Yet\nthis same amount of summer heat will make scarcely any perceptible\ndifference in the waters of the ocean. Then again, in winter, a few days\nsevere frost will make the solid earth, and especially the stones and\nmetals, so cold, that they would blister a delicate skin, if pressed\nagainst them; while they make scarcely any perceptible difference upon\nthe waters of the ocean. The ocean sits on its low throne like the\nmonarch of this lower world, controlling the elements, tempering the\nheat and the cold, and thus preserving the earth and its living\ninhabitants from harm.\n\nWesley tells us farther, that before the sin of Adam, \"The air was\nalways serene and always friendly to man.\" Now the air is still always\n_friendly to man_. Even when it comes in the form of hurricanes and\ntempests, it is so. It is doing work, even then, _good work_, which\ngentle breezes are _unable_ to do. It is carrying away dangers which\ngentler currents of air would not have the power to carry away. And even\nwhen they cause destruction in their course, they are still performing\nfriendly offices to man. They are inspiring him with a livelier\nconsciousness of his absolute dependence upon God, and of the folly of\nresisting His will. They are exercising his intellectual powers, by\nleading him to devise means for his protection from their fury, and\nobliging him also to exert his bodily powers in carrying out the devices\nof his intellect. They are, in fact, contributing to make him a wiser, a\nstronger, a better, a happier, and in all respects, a completer, and a\ndiviner being than he otherwise would be. We agree therefore with Wesley\nthat the air before Adam sinned was always _friendly to man_; but we do\nnot agree with him in his notions as to what _constituted_ its\nfriendliness; nor do we agree with him in the notion, that since the\nsin of Adam the air has _ceased_ to be friendly, or even proved to be\n_less_ friendly, to man. We believe that the air is as friendly to man\nnow as it ever was,--that it does him as little mischief, that it\ncontributes as much to his well-being and comfort, as it ever did.\n\nWesley further says, the sun was situated at the most exact distance\nfrom the earth, so as to yield a sufficient quantity of heat, neither\ntoo little nor too much, to every part of it. Ho further intimates that\nthere was at first no inclination of the earth's axis, and that the\nseasons and the degree of heat and cold were, in consequence, the same\nall the world over, and all the year round. All these statements seem\nerroneous in the extreme. The supply of heat to the different parts of\nthe earth does not depend altogether on the distance of the sun from the\nearth, as Wesley intimates, but on the motions of the earth around the\nsun and upon its own axis. Wesley seems to imagine that if the axis of\nthe earth were not inclined, or elevated at one end, the earth would\nreceive from the sun the same quantity of heat through every part;\nwhereas nothing could be farther from the truth. If, as Wesley expresses\nit, \"This oblique globe had not been turned askance,\" some parts of the\nearth would have received from the sun scarcely any heat at all; they\nwould have received neither light nor heat, except in such slight\nmeasures as to be altogether useless. The arctic regions and the\nantarctic regions must have been alike uninhabitable. That turning of\nthe oblique globe askance, which Wesley represents as the cause of\nextreme heat and cold, was the very thing to _prevent_ those extremes,\nor to reduce them to the lowest possible point, and to secure to every\npart of the globe, as _far as possible_, an _equal_ amount of light and\nwarmth. I say _as far as possible_; for to secure to every part of the\nearth exactly the same amount of light and heat from one sun, is\nimpossible. Place a little globe in what position you will with respect\nto a neighboring candle, and fix the axis of that globe as you please,\nand move that globe; give the globe a motion upon its own axis, and\nanother motion round the light near which it is placed, and you will\nfind it impossible to secure to every part of that globe exactly the\nsame amount of light and heat. By inclining the axis of the globe, or as\nWesley expresses it, turning it askance, as the axis of the earth is\ninclined or turned askance, you may secure the _greatest possible\nequality_ of light and heat to every part; but still that greatest\npossible equality will be a considerable _inequality_. So far,\ntherefore, from the polar regions being made colder or darker by the\nglobe being turned askance, they are indebted to that very obliqueness\nof the earth's axis, and that apparent irregularity of its motions, for\nthe chief portion of that light and heat which they receive. How Wesley\ncame to speak so erroneously on this subject, I am at a loss to know, as\nhe must, one would think, have understood the first elements of\ngeography and astronomy. Yet his words are at variance with the first\nelements of those popular sciences.\n\nBut it would take up too much room to notice all the unauthorized\nstatements of Mr. Wesley on this subject. We have said enough to show\nhow the most conscientious and best-intentioned man may err on\ntheological subjects, and what need young Christians have to be somewhat\ncritical and careful in adopting and testing their religious opinions.\nThere are other sermons of Wesley which are as much at variance with\nScripture as the one we have had under notice. I have not his sermons at\nhand just now, but if I remember right, his remarks on the righteousness\nof the Scribes and Pharisees, in his sermon on that subject, are quite\nat variance with the statements of Christ.\n\nAnd Wesley was one of the best, one of the most honest and\nconscientious, one of the most single-minded men on the face of the\nearth. No man, I imagine, was ever more anxious to be right,--no one was\never more desirous to know and teach God's truth in all its purity, and\nin everything to do God's will and bless mankind. And he knew and chose\nthe right standard of truth and goodness, and honestly endeavored to\nconform to it both in thought and deed and word. Yet he could err in\nthis strange and wholesale way. What then may we expect from other\ntheological writers? Many of the theologians whose writings influence\nthe Church were _not_ very good men; they were selfish, ambitious, proud\nand worldly. Some were idle, dreamy, careless, godless. And others, who\nwere piously disposed, never deliberately adopted the Bible as their\nrule of faith and practice. They never set themselves to conform to it,\nas the standard of truth and goodness. They adopted or inherited the\nfaiths or traditions of their predecessors, never suspecting them of\nerror, and never inquiring whether they were true or not. The idea of\ntesting or correcting either their way of thinking or their way of\ntalking on religious subjects, by the teachings of Christ, never entered\ntheir minds. They lived at ease, dreaming rather than thinking, and\ntalking in their sleep, and filling great folios with their idle\nutterances. What kind of thoughts, and what kind of words were we likely\nto find in the writings of men like these? Robert Hall is reported to\nhave described the works of the celebrated John Owen as \"A CONTINENT OF\nMUD.\" There are others whose writings might be justly described as\nvolumes of smoke. Mere wind they are not, but foul, black, blinding\nsmoke. And writings of this description are published or republished in\ngreat quantities to the present day. And people read them, and fill\nthemselves with wind and filthy fumes, and wrap themselves in smoky,\npitchy clouds, and go through the world in a spiritual darkness thick\nenough to be felt.\n\nThis smoke, this blackness and darkness, I could not endure. I was\nanxious beyond measure to free myself from its bewildering and blinding\npower, and to get into the clear fresh air, and the bright and cheerful\nlight, of simple Christian truth. And hence the freedom and eagerness of\nmy investigations, and the liberty I took in modifying my belief.\n\nIt may be said that many of the doctrines which I have set down as\nunscriptural, are of little importance; and that is really the case. We\nought, therefore, to be the more ready to give them up. Why contend for\ndoctrines of no moment? But some of them _are_ important. They are\nrevolting and mischievous errors, and when they are regarded as parts of\nChristianity, they tend to make men infidels. And in many cases they\nstagger the faith, and lessen the comfort, and injure the souls of\nChristians. And even the less important ones do harm when taken to be\nparts of the religion of Christ. You cannot make thoughtful,\nsharp-visioned men believe that Jesus came into the world, and lived and\ndied to propagate trifles. Trifles therefore are no longer trifles when\nset forth as Christian doctrines. And we have enough to believe and\nthink about without occupying our minds with childish fancies. And we\nhave things enough of high importance to preach and write about, without\nspending our time and strength on idle dreams.\n\nAnd the apparently harmless fictions prop up the hurtful ones. And they\nlessen the influence of great truths. And they make religion appear\nsuspicious or contemptible to men of sense. They disgust some. They give\noccasion to the adversaries to speak reproachfully.\n\nAnd if you tolerate fictions at all in Christianity, where will you\nstop? And if you do not stop somewhere, Christianity will disappear, and\na mass of worthless and disgusting follies will take its place. The new\ncreation will vanish, and chaos come again.\n\nAnd again. A large proportion of the controversies of the Church are\nabout men's inventions. Christ's own doctrines do not so often provoke\nopposition as the traditions of the elders; nor do they, when assailed,\nrequire so much defending. They defend themselves. \"The devil's way of\nundoing,\" says Baxter, \"is by overdoing. To bring religious zeal into\ndisrepute, he makes some zealous to madness, to persecution, to blood.\nTo discredit freedom he urges its advocates into lawlessness. To\ndiscredit Christian morality, he induces some to carry it to the extreme\nof asceticism. To discredit needful authority, he makes rulers of the\nState into despots, and persuades the rulers of the Church to claim\ninfallibility. To discredit Christianity, he adds to it human\ninventions.\" Wesley has a similar sentiment. \"If you place Christian\nperfection too high, you drive it out of the world.\" And it is certain,\nthat an infinite amount of hostility to Christianity is owing to the\nfolly of divines in supplementing its simple and practical doctrines, by\nspeculative and unintelligible theories. \"The one great evidence of the\ndivinity of Christianity,\" says one, \"the master-evidence, the evidence\nwith which all other evidences will stand or fall, is Christ Himself\nspeaking by His own word.\" But if you add to His words foolish fancies,\nor revolting absurdities, or immoral speculations of your own, you\ndestroy that evidence. You make men infidels.\n\nThere are multitudes at the present day to whom you must present\nreligion in an intelligible and rational, and in a grave and commanding\nlight, if you would induce them to give it their serious attention. You\ncan no more interest them in mysteries and nonsense, in speculative and\nunpractical fictions, than you can change the course of nature. The time\nfor theological trifling is gone by. The time has gone by for any form\nof religion to make its way which does not consist in solid goodness, or\nwhich teaches doctrines, or uses forms, that do not tend to promote\nsolid goodness. If religion is to secure the attention of the world,--if\nit is to command their respect, their reverence and their love,--if it\nis to conquer their hearts, and govern their lives, and satisfy their\nsouls,--if it is to become the great absorbing subject of man's thought,\nand the governing power of our race, it must be so presented, as to\nprove itself in harmony with all that is highest and best in man's\nnature, with all that is most beautiful and useful in life, and with all\nthat is beneficent and glorious in the universe.\n\nIn a word, old dreamy theologies with their barbarous dialects and silly\nnotions, must be dropped and left to die, and the Church and the\nministry must live, and act, and talk as men who are dealing with the\ngrandest and most interesting and important realities.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nFURTHER INVESTIGATIONS AND THEIR RESULTS.\n\n\nAs my readers will have seen before this, the changes in my views were\nrather numerous, if not always of great importance. And the cases I have\ngiven are but samples of many other changes. The fact is, I pared away\nfrom my creed everything that was not plainly Scriptural. I threw aside\nall human theories, all mere guesses about religious matters. I also\ndismissed all forced or fanciful interpretations of Scripture passages.\nI endeavored to free Christian doctrines from all corruptions,\nperversions, or exaggerations, retaining only the pure and simple\nteachings of Christ and the sacred writings. I accepted only those\ninterpretations of Scripture, which were in accordance with the object\nand drift of the writer, with common sense, and with the general tenor\nof the sacred volume. I paid special regard to the plainest and most\npractical portions of Scripture. I paid no regard to doctrines grounded\non solitary passages, or on texts of doubtful meaning, while numerous\ntexts, with their meaning on their very faces, taught opposite\ndoctrines. I would accept nothing that seemed irrational from any\nquarter, unless required to do so by the plain unquestionable oracles of\nGod. I could see no propriety in Christians encumbering their minds and\nclogging religion with notions bearing plain and palpable marks of\ninconsistency or absurdity. And if a doctrine presented itself in\ndifferent religious writers in a variety of forms, I always took the\nform which seemed most in harmony with reason and the plainest teachings\nof Scripture. Some writers seemed to take pleasure in presenting such\ndoctrines as the Trinity, the Atonement, Salvation by Faith, Eternal\nPunishment, &c., in the most incredible and repulsive forms, straining\nand wresting the Scriptures to justify their mischievous extravagances.\nOther writers would say no more on those subjects than the Scriptures\nsaid, and would put what the Scriptures said in such a light as to\nrender it \"worthy of all acceptation.\" As a matter of course, the latter\nkind of writers became my favorites. Indeed the Scriptures seemed always\nto favor what appeared most rational in the various creeds. The\nScriptures and common sense seemed always in remarkable harmony. The\ndoctrines which clashed with reason seemed also to clash with Scripture:\nand I felt that in rejecting such doctrines I was promoting the honor of\nGod and of Christ, and rendering a service to the Church and\nChristianity.\n\nI was sometimes rather tried by the unwarranted and inconsiderate\nstatements of my brother ministers. Take an instance. A preacher one\nnight, in a sermon to which I was listening, said, \"How great is the\nlove of God to fallen man! Angels sinned, and were doomed at once to\neverlasting damnation. No Saviour interposed to bring them back to\nholiness and heaven. No ambassador was sent with offers of pardon to\nbeseech them to be reconciled to God. Man sins, and the Deity Himself\nbecomes incarnate. All the machinery of nature and all the resources of\nHeaven are employed to save him from destruction. One sin shuts up in\neverlasting despair millions of spiritual beings, while a thousand\ntransgressions are forgiven to man.\"\n\nNow this doctrine, instead of reflecting peculiar glory on God, seemed\nto me to savor of blasphemy. It is no honor to be partial or capricious;\nit is a reproach. A father that should be tenderly indulgent to one of\nhis children, and rigidly severe to the rest, would be regarded with\nindignation. The doctrine of Divine partiality shocks both our reason\nand our moral feelings. And it is not scriptural. The Bible says nothing\nabout God dooming the rebellious angels to perdition for one sin,\nwithout any attempt to bring them back to obedience; but it does say\nthat God is good to all, and that His tender mercies are over all His\nworks. I accordingly rejected the doctrine. There was quite a multitude\nof _doctrines_ which entered into the sermons of many of my brother\nministers, which never found their way into mine. And there were\ndoctrines which entered into my discourses, which never found their way\ninto theirs. And the doctrines which we held and preached in common, we\noften presented in very different forms, and put into very different\nwords. They could say a multitude of things which I could not say;\nthings which I could find no kind of warrant for saying. When we met\ntogether after hearing each other preach, we had at times long talks\nabout our different views and ways of preaching. I was free in\nexpressing my thoughts and feelings, especially in the earlier years of\nmy ministry, and our conversations were often very animated.\n\nIn some circuits, I induced my colleagues to join me in establishing\nweekly meetings for mutual improvement in religious knowledge. At each\nmeeting an essay was read, on some subject agreed upon at a former\nmeeting, and after the essay had been read we discussed the merits both\nof the sentiments it embodied, and of the style in which it was\nwritten. When it was my turn to prepare an essay, I generally introduced\none or more of the points on which I and my colleagues differed, for the\npurpose of having them discussed. I stated my views with the utmost\nfreedom, and gave every encouragement to my colleagues to state theirs\nwith equal freedom in return. When my colleagues read their productions,\nI pointed out what I thought erroneous or defective with great plainness\nand fidelity. I was anxious both to learn and to teach, and it was my\ndelight, as it was my duty and business, to endeavor to do both. I was\nnot, however, so anxious to change the views of my friends as I was to\nexcite in them a thirst for knowledge. And indeed I did not consider it\nof so much importance that a man should accept a certain number of\ntruths, or particular doctrines, as that he should have a sincere\ndesire, and make suitable endeavors to understand all truth. It was\nidleness, indifference, a state of mental stagnation, a readiness\ncarelessly to accept whatever might come in the way without once trying\nto test it by Scripture or reason, that I particularly disliked; and to\ncure or abate this evil, I exerted myself to the utmost.\n\nWhen I was stationed in Newcastle in 1831, I met with Foster's Essays,\nwhich I read with a great deal of eagerness and pleasure. One of these\nEssays is \"On some of the Causes by which Evangelical Religion has been\nRendered Unacceptable to Persons of Cultivated Taste?\" Among his remarks\non this subject, he has some to the following effect:--\n\n1. Christianity is the religion of many weak, uncultivated and\nlittle-minded people, and they, by their unwise ways of talking about\nit, and by their various defects of character, make religion look weak,\nand poor, and unreasonable. And many receive their impression or ideas\nof the character of Christianity more from the exhibitions given of it\nby the religious people with whom they come in contact, than from the\nexhibition given of it in the life and teachings of its great Author, or\nfrom the characters and writings of His Apostles. An intelligent and\ncultivated man, for instance, falls into the company of Christians\nwho know little either of the teachings of Christ, or of the\nwonderful facts which go to prove their truth and their infinite\nexcellency--Christians who never trouble themselves about such matters,\nand who look on it as no good sign when people show a disposition to\ninquire seriously into such subjects. He hears those Christians talk\nabout religion, but can find nothing in their conversation but strange\nand, to him, unintelligible expressions. The speakers give proof enough\nof excited feelings, but show no sign of mental enlightenment. If he\nasks them for information on the great principles and bearings of\nChristianity, they tell him they have nothing to do with vain\nphilosophy.\n\n2. The man of taste and culture hears other Christians harping eternally\non two or three points, adopted perhaps from some dreamy author, and\ndenouncing all who question the correctness of their version of the\nGospel, as heretics or infidels, while all the time their notions have\nlittle or no resemblance either to the Gospel or to common sense; but\nare at best, only perversions or distortions of Christian doctrines,\nwhich have no more likeness to the religion of Christ than a few broken\nbricks have to a beautiful and magnificent palace.\n\n3. In many cases the Christians with whom he meets have not only no\ngeneral knowledge of religious subjects, but no desire for such\nknowledge. The Bible is their book, they say, and they want no other.\nAnd they make but a pitiful use of that. They do not go to the Bible as\nto a fountain of infinite knowledge, whose streams of truth blend\nnaturally with all the truths in the universe, but merely to refresh\ntheir minds with a few misinterpreted passages, which ignorance and\nbigotry are accustomed to use to support their misconceptions of\nChristian doctrine. They use the book not to make them wise, but to keep\nthem ignorant. They dwell for ever on the same irrational fancies, and\nrepeat them for ever in the same outlandish jargon.\n\n4. He meets with other Christians who read a little in other books\nbesides the Bible; but it is just those books that help to keep them\nfrom understanding the meaning of the Bible. And the portions of the\nbooks which they admire most and quote oftenest, are the silliest and\nmost erroneous portions. They put darkness for light, and light for\ndarkness. The man of culture speaks to them, but they cannot understand\nhim. His thoughts and style are alike out of their line, or beyond their\ncapacity. If at any time they catch a glimpse of his meaning, they are\nfrightened on perceiving that his thoughts are not an exact repetition\nof their own.\n\n5. Another cause which has tended to render Christianity less acceptable\nto men of taste and culture, is the peculiar language adopted in the\ndiscourses and writings of its _Teachers_. The style of some religious\nteachers is low, vulgar. The style of a still greater number is\nbarbarous. Men soon feel the language of the _Law_ to be barbarous. They\nwould feel the language of theology to be as barbarous, if they were not\naccustomed to hear it or read it so constantly. The way in which the\ngreater number of evangelical divines express themselves is quite\ndifferent from that in which men generally express themselves. Their\nwhole cast of phraseology is peculiar. You cannot hear five sentences\nwithout feeling that you are listening to a dead or foreign language. To\nput it into good current English you have to translate it, and the task\nof translation is as hard, and requires as much study and practice, as\nthat of translating Greek or Hebrew. The language of the pulpit and of\nreligious books is a dialect to itself, and cannot be used in common\nlife or common affairs. If you try to apply it to anything but religion,\nit becomes ridiculous, and a common kind of wit consists in speaking of\ncommon things in pulpit phraseology. A foreign heathen might master our\nlanguage in its common and classical forms, and be able to understand\nboth our ordinary talk and our ablest authors, yet find himself quite at\na loss to understand an evangelical preacher or writer.\n\nEven if our heathen understood religion in its simpler and more natural\nforms, he would still be unable to understand the common run of\nreligious talkers and writers. If he had religion to learn from such\nteachers and writers, he would have a double task, first, to get the\nideas, and then to learn the uncouth and unnatural language. This\npeculiar dialect is quite unnecessary. The style of a preacher or a\nreligious writer might be, and, allowing for a few terms, _ought_ to be,\nthe same as that of a man talking about ordinary affairs, and matters of\ncommon interest and duty. The want of this is one great cause of the\nlittle success, both of our preachers at home, and of our missionaries\nabroad. They hide beneath an unseemly veil, a beauty that should strike\nall eyes, and win all hearts. Their style is just the opposite of\neverything that can instruct, attract, command. And it is vain to expect\nmuch improvement in the present generation of religious teachers. They\ncould not get a good style without a long and careful study of good\nauthors, and for this many of them have neither the taste nor the\nneedful industry. They would have to begin life anew, to be converted\nand become as little children, before they could master the task. They\ncannot _think_ of religion but in common words. They cannot think there\ncan be divine truth but in the old phrases. To discontinue them,\ntherefore, and use others, would in their view, be to become heretics or\ninfidels. In truth, many of them seem to have no ideas. Their phrases\nare not vehicles of ideas, but substitutes for them. If they hear the\nideas which their phrases did once signify, expressed ever so plainly in\nother language, they do not recognise them, and instantly suspect the\nman who utters them of unsoundness in the faith, and apply to him all\nthe abusive terms of ecclesiastical reproach. For such the common pulpit\njargon is the convenient refuge of ignorance, idleness and prejudice.\n\n6. Speaking of certain kinds of religious books, Mr. Foster calls them\nan accumulation of bad writing, under which the evangelical theology has\nbeen buried, and which has contributed to bring its principles into\ndisfavor. He adds: A large proportion of religious books may be\nsentenced as bad on more accounts than their peculiarity of dialect. One\nhas to regret that their authors did not revere the dignity of their\nreligion too much to surround it and choke it with their works. There is\nquite a multitude of books which form the perfect vulgar of religious\nauthorship,--a vast exhibition of the most inferior materials that can\nbe called thought, in language too grovelling to be called style. In\nthese books you are mortified to see how low religious thought and\nexpression _can_ sink; and you almost wonder how the grand ideas of God\nand Providence, of redemption and eternity, the noblest ideas known, can\nshine on a human mind, without imparting some small occasional degree of\ndignity to its train of thought. You can make allowances for the great\ndefects of private Christians, but when men obtrude their infinite\nlittleness and folly on the public in books, you can hardly help\nregarding them as inexcusable. True, many of those worthless and\nmischievous books are evermore disappearing, but others as bad, or but\nlittle better, take their places. Look where you will you will meet with\nthem. What estimate can a man have of Christianity who receives his\nfirst impressions of it from such books?\n\n7. There are other religious books that are tolerable as to style, but\nwhich display no power or prominence of thought, no living vigor of\nexpression; they are flat and dry as a plain of sand. They tease you\nwith the thousandth repetition of common-places, causing a feeling of\nunspeakable weariness. Though the author is surrounded with rich\nimmeasurable fields of truth and beauty, he treads for ever the same\nnarrow track already trodden into dust.\n\n8. There is a smaller class of religious writers that may be called\nmock-eloquent writers. They try at a superior style, but forget that\ntrue eloquence resides essentially in the thought, the feeling, the\ncharacter, and that no words can make genuine eloquence out of that\nwhich is of no worth or interest. They mistake a gaudy verbosity for\neloquence.\n\n9. The moral and theological _materials_ of many religious books are as\nfaulty as their style, and the injury they do the Gospel is\nincalculable. Here is a systematic writer in whose hands all the riches\nand magnificence of revelation shrink into a meagre list of doctrinal\npoints, and not a single verse in the Bible is allowed to tell its\nmeaning, or even allowed to have one, till it has been forced under\ntorture to maintain one of his points. You are next confronted with a\nprater about the invisible world, that makes you shrink away into\ndarkness; and then you are met with a grim zealot for such a revolting\ntheory of the Divine attributes and government, that he seems to delight\nin representing the Deity as a dreadful king of furies, whose dominion\nis overshadowed with vengeance, whose music is the cries of victims, and\nwhose glory requires to be illustrated by the ruin of His creation. One\ncannot help deploring that the great mass of religious books were not\nconsigned to the flames before they were permitted to reach the eyes of\nthe public. Books which exhibit Christianity and its claims with\ninsipid feebleness, or which cramp its majesty into an artificial form\nat once distorted and mean, must grievously injure its influence. An\nintelligent Christian cannot look into such works without feeling\nthankful that they were not the books from which he got his conceptions\nof the Gospel. Nothing would induce him to put them into the hands of an\ninquiring youth, and he would be sorry to see them on the table of an\ninfidel, or in the library of his children, or of a student for the\nministry.--_Foster's Essays._\n\nThese sentiments answered so astonishingly to my own thoughts, that I\nread them with the greatest delight. I laid them, in substance, before\nmy brethren. I explained them. I illustrated them by quotations from\nbooks and sermons. I gave them instances of the various faults pointed\nout by Foster, taken from their favorite authors, and in some cases from\nthe discourses of living preachers. I wrote several essays on the causes\nof the slow progress made by Christianity, in which I embodied and\nillustrated many of Foster's views. I wrote essays on \"_Preaching\nChrist_,\" in which I embodied and illustrated Wesley's views on the\nsubject, including his condemnation of what, in his days, was falsely\ncalled \"_Gospel Preaching_.\" I wrote quite a large volume on these\nsubjects, and read the contents, so far as opportunity offered, to my\ncolleagues at our weekly meetings. I was badly requited for my pains. In\nsome cases my colleagues listened to me and stared at me with amazement.\nThey thought I \"brought strange things to their ears.\" One, who is now\ndead, said I should be really an excellent fellow, he believed, if I\ncould only get the cobwebs swept out of my upper stories. Everything\nbeyond his own poor standing common-places was cobwebs to him, poor\nfellow. The remarks on this subject in the LIFE of the preacher\nreferred to, show that my ideas and plans at that time are not yet\nunderstood by all his brethren.\n\nTravel, they say, frees men from their prejudices. The more they see of\nthe wonders of other countries, and of the manners of other nations, the\nmore moderate becomes their estimate of the marvels, and of some of the\nviews and customs of their native land. And it is certain that the more\na man travels through good books by men of different Churches from his\nown, the less important will some of the peculiarities of his own\ndenomination appear. As ignorance of the world is favorable to blind\npatriotism and home idolatry, so ignorance of Churches, and systems, and\nliteratures different from our own, is favorable to bigotry and\nsectarianism. And as free and extended intercourse with foreign nations\ntends to enlarge and liberalize the mind; so the more extensive a\nChristian's acquaintance is with different branches of the Church, and\nwith their customs, and writings, and manners, the more likely will his\nsectarian bigotry and intolerance be to give place to liberal views and\nto Christian moderation and charity.\n\nBut just in proportion as he becomes the subject of this blessed\ntransformation, will he be regarded with suspicion and dread by those\nwho still remain the slaves of ignorance and bigotry.\n\nIt was so in my case. I travelled through extensive regions of religious\nliterature different from that of my own Church, and I did so with an\nearnest desire to learn what was true and good in all. The consequence\nwas the loss of many prejudices, and the modification of many more. I\nlost my prejudices against all kinds of Christians. I could believe in\nthe salvation both of Quakers and Catholics, and of all between, if they\nwere well disposed, God-fearing, good-living men. I could believe in the\nsalvation of all, not excepting Jews, Turks, and Pagans, who lived\naccording to the light they had, and honestly and faithfully sought for\nfurther light. I believed that in every nation he that feared God and\nworked righteousness was accepted of Him. I believed that honest,\nfaithful souls among the pagans of old would be found at last among the\nsaved. I regarded the moral and spiritual light of the ancient pagans as\nlight from heaven, as divine revelation. I looked on all mankind as\nequally objects of God's care and love, as His children, under His\ntuition, though placed for a time in different schools, with different\nteachers, and with different lesson-books. I came to believe that God\nwas as good as a good man, as good as the kindest and best of fathers,\nand even better, and I felt assured that He would not permit any\nwell-disposed soul on earth to perish. I believed that some who were\nfirst in privileges, would be among the last in blessedness; and that\nsome that were last in privileges would be among the first in\nblessedness.\n\nYet I believed in missions. I believed that it was the duty of all to\nshare their blessings with others; to give to others the light that God\nhad bestowed on them,--that though _pagans_ might be saved without\nChristian light, if they lived according to the light they had,\n_Christians_ could not be saved if they did not, as they had\nopportunity, _impart_ their superior light to the pagans.\n\nI respected the good moral principles, and the portions of religious\ntruth that I found in the ancient Greek and Roman authors, just as I\nlamented and condemned the moral and religious errors that I found in\nChristian books.\n\n     \"I seized on truth where'er 'twas found,\n     On Christian or on Heathen ground,\"\n\nand made it part of my creed: and I warred with error though entrenched\nin the strong-holds of the Church. I respected what was true and good in\nall denominations of Christians; and even in all denominations that\n_called_ themselves Christians, whether they came near enough to Christ\nto entitle them to that name or not. If I saw anything good in the\ncreeds or the characters of other denominations I accepted it, and tried\nto embody it in my own creed and character.\n\nAnd I did, as I thought, see good in every one that I did not see in\nothers. I could see things in some Protestants, which I thought\nCatholics would do well to imitate; and I could see things among\nCatholics, which I thought Protestants would do well to imitate. I could\nsee things in Quakerism, which it would have been to the honor and\nadvantage of other Christians to imitate; and I could see good things in\nother Churches which Quakers would have done well to copy. I could see\neven among Unitarians of the older and better class, an attention to\nmatters practical, a naturalness of style, and a freedom from certain\nanti-christian expressions and notions, which it would have been well\nfor orthodox Churches to have made their own; and I could see where\nUnitarians had both gone too far through their dislike of orthodox\nerror, and fallen short of truth and duty through dread of orthodox\nweaknesses or imperfections. And I had an idea, that it would be well\nin all Churches, instead of avoiding, or scolding, or abusing one\nanother, to study each other lovingly, with a view to find how much of\ntruth and goodness they could find in each other, that they could not\nfind in themselves, and how much of error and imperfection they could\nfind in themselves, that they did not find in others. I saw that no\nChurch had got all the truth, or all the goodness, and that no Church\nwas free from anti-christian errors and defects. I saw that to make a\nperfect Christian creed, we should have to take something out of every\ncreed, and leave other things in every creed behind; and that to secure\na perfect exhibition of Christian virtue, and a perfect system of\nChristian operations, we should have to borrow from each other habits,\ncustoms, rules and machinery in the same way, and leave parts of our own\nto fall into disuse.\n\nAnd I was willing to act on this principle. I saw that Christ and\nChristianity were more and better than all the Churches and all the\ncreeds on earth put together, and that all the Churches had errors and\nfaults or failings which Christ and Christianity had not; and I had an\nidea that one of the grandest sights conceivable would be to set all the\ndisciples of Christ to work striving to get rid of everything\nanti-christian, and to come as near to Christ, and to each other, as\npossible, both in truth and virtue.\n\nBut to proceed with my story.\n\nI frequently spoke on religious subjects with my colleagues when we met,\nalong with the leading laymen, at the houses of our friends. Some new\nbook, some particular sermon, or some article in the magazine, or\nperhaps the fulness of one's own mind with the subjects of one's\nstudies, would turn the conversation on the state of the Church and the\nministry, and the need of improvement in the theological systems and\ndialects of the day, and the manner of handling religious subjects\ngenerally, both in the pulpit and through the press. Whatever the\nsubject under consideration might be, I expressed myself with the utmost\nfreedom. I stated my beliefs and disbeliefs, my doubts and my\nconvictions, without the least reserve. And I as readily gave my reasons\nfor my views. I was generally prepared with the passages of Scripture\nbearing on the subjects introduced, and gave them, with my impressions\nof their meaning. And I did my best to draw my colleagues and friends\ninto a thorough investigation of every point, in hopes that we might all\ncome as near as possible in our views to a full conformity to the\nteachings of Christ. The results of these conversations, and of my other\nlabors, were in some cases, very satisfactory. Some were led to exercise\ntheir minds on religious subjects who had never troubled themselves\nabout such matters before. Some that had been accustomed to think and\nread a little were led to think and read more, and to better purpose.\nSome that had been helplessly and miserably perplexed had their minds\nput right, and were delivered from their distresses. Some had their\nminds directed more seriously to the practical requirements of\nChristianity, and labored more, and made more sacrifices, for the\nprosperity of the Church and the salvation of their fellow-men. In\nconsiderable numbers the standard of Christian knowledge and piety was\nraised, and the general tone of the churches improved.\n\nIn other cases the results were of a very different character. During\nthe early years of my religious life I supposed that all professing\nChristians, and especially all ministers of the Gospel, were anxious to\nbe as wise and good as possible, and that they would be delighted, as I\nwas myself, to get any new, or larger, or clearer views of truth and\nduty. I judged of others by myself, and gave them credit for the same\ndesires and longings that swelled my own soul. I gave them credit too\nfor unlimited capacities to take in and appreciate the truth, and for\nany amount of ability to use it, when received, in doing good to others.\nI had seldom any difficulty in understanding _them_; and it never\nentered my mind that they would have much difficulty in understanding\nme. And I never felt myself even tempted, much less disposed, to\nmisrepresent the words or sentiments of my friends, or to take advantage\nof the freedom with which they spoke, to injure them in the estimation\nof their friends. I had no intolerance myself, so far as I can\nrecollect, and I had no disposition to cause intolerance in others\ntowards my brethren. How it was with my brethren I will not undertake to\nsay, but, as a person with any knowledge of human nature would have\nanticipated, I was greatly misunderstood and misrepresented. Some of my\ncolleagues and friends were in a maze with regard to my views and\nintentions. Shut up within the narrow confines of some old stereotyped\nform of faith or fancy into which they had been born, or into which they\nhad been brought they knew not how, and afraid to change or modify one\n_iota_ of their blind belief, investigation, search after truth,\nenlargement of thought, or change of sentiment, was with them out of the\nquestion. The very idea of anything differing from their own\ntraditionary or haphazard belief was, in the estimation of some of them,\nno less than heresy, treason, or infidelity. Others, who were not so\nmuch benighted, were afraid to venture on a free examination of\nreligious matters, or a careful comparison of their views with the\nteachings of Scripture. Some trusted in their elders, and feared no\nerror so long as they kept in the track of their predecessors. I am not\ncertain that I should go too far if I were to say, that some were under\nthe influence of worldly and selfish motives, and were resolved to take\nthe course which promised to be most conducive to a quiet, easy,\nself-indulgent life. There were some whose conversations left this\nimpression on my mind. One young minister, when I was pointing out to\nhim some inconsistency between a statement he had made and the teachings\nof Christ, put an end to the conversation by saying, \"I don't want to\nhear anything about such matters; I know what is expected of a minister\nof the Methodist New Connexion, and I am resolved to be one; and I shall\njust hold the doctrines necessary to keep me in the office, and nothing\nelse.\" And I suppose he did not stand alone.\n\nSome lacked the power to think. They were all but mindless. Whatever\nthey might be able to do in reference to worldly matters, they were\nunable to think, to compare doctrine with doctrine, or to reason in any\nrespect whatever on religious matters. One young man, a candidate for\nthe ministry, told me that he never had thought matters over in his own\nmind, but taken what came in his way in books or sermons, never\ntroubling himself, or finding himself able, to do more than to remember\nand to repeat what he heard or read. He had not the faculty to compare\nthe sayings of men with the sayings of God; or the sayings of one man\nwith the sayings of another. He was a mere dealer in words and phrases,\nand he aspired to nothing higher than to live by the ignoble occupation.\nHow many of those with whom I came in contact, and in whose society I\npoured forth so freely the thoughts of my mind, were of the same stamp,\nI do not know. I never tested any other person so thoroughly as I tested\nhim. There _were_ others, however, that had been fashioned in a similar\nmould.\n\nOthers with whom I conversed _had thought_, and had embraced certain\nviews believing them to be true; but they had fallen under the influence\nof teachers and books of a different cast from those by which my own\nmind had been chiefly influenced. And they had been led to fix their\nthoughts almost exclusively on one particular class of Scripture\npassages, and to neglect or overlook other portions of the sacred\nvolume, though much more numerous, and much more clear in their meaning.\nThey had also been led to adopt certain interpretations of the passages\non which their attention had been specially fixed, which a consideration\nof other passages of Scripture had led me to reject. Thus our minds had\nrun into different moulds, and taken different forms. We differed not\nonly on certain points of doctrine, but in our tastes, and in our rules\nof judging. The consequence was, that we could never talk long on\nreligious subjects without getting into a dispute, or coming to a dead\nstand. To make matters worse, this class of people had been led to\nbelieve that their peculiar notions were the essential doctrines of the\nGospel, and that those who did not believe them could not be Christians.\nWhen therefore they found that I looked upon their theories as erroneous\nand unscriptural, they pronounced me at once an erratic and dangerous\nman. I imagined, at first, that I could bring these people to see things\nin a different light. I had such faith in the power of plain Scripture\npassages, and in the force of common sense, and was so ignorant of the\npower of prejudice, and of peculiarities of mental constitution, that I\nconversed and reasoned with them with the greatest freedom and the\nutmost confidence. But I found at length that my expectations were vain.\nI was conversing once with a colleague who belonged to this class, on\nman's natural proneness to evil. He was one of the best and most\nenlightened of that school of theologians, and he regarded me at the\ntime with very kindly feelings. And we were agreed as to the _fact_ of\nman's natural tendency to evil, but he had been led to rest his belief\nin the doctrine on somewhat different grounds from those on which my\nbelief rested. And this was enough. He quoted the passage from Isaiah,\n\"The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint: from the crown of\nthe head, to the sole of the foot, there is no soundness, but wounds and\nbruises and putrefying sores.\" \"Do you think that the Prophet refers in\nthat passage to man's natural proneness to evil?\" said I. \"What can he\nrefer to else?\" said he. \"I have been accustomed to regard the words as\na figurative description of the miserable state of the Israelites under\nthe terrible judgments of God,\" I replied. He instantly became red in\nthe face, and said, \"Do you mean to deny the natural depravity of man?\"\nI said, \"The question is not about the doctrine, but only about the\nmeaning of that particular passage.\" But all was in vain. I had roused\nhis suspicions and his anger, and the conversation came at once to an\nend, and he never afterwards regarded me with the same degree of\nconfidence and friendliness as before.\n\nOn another occasion a brother minister quoted, as proof that men in\ntheir unregenerate state cannot do anything towards their own salvation,\nthe words of Jeremiah, already once referred to, \"Can the Ethiopian\nchange his skin, or the leopard his spots?\" \"Do you really think,\" said\nI, \"that the Prophet is speaking, in those words, of men generally?\"\n\"What else is he speaking of?\" was the answer. \"He seems to me to be\nspeaking of a particular class of men, who have been so long accustomed\nto do wrong, that they have lost the power to do right--having made\nthemselves the helpless slaves of their evil habits. He is not, I think,\nspeaking of the state into which they were _born_; but of the state to\nwhich they had _reduced_ themselves by long persistence in sin. Hence he\nsays at the conclusion of the passage, 'Then may ye, who are accustomed\nto do evil, do well.'\" \"Oh! I suppose you deny the doctrine of natural\ndepravity.\" \"No, I do not,\" said I. \"It is no use saying that,\" he\nreplied, \"when you explain away the passages of Scripture in which the\ndoctrine is taught.\"\n\nSuch encounters between me and my brethren were at one time by no means\nuncommon. They took place at almost every meeting. The result was often\nunpleasant. My brethren generally did not like to be disturbed in their\nnotions, or in their way of talking. But few, if any of them, were\nprepared or disposed to enter on the investigations necessary to enable\nthem to ascertain what was the truth on the points on which we were\naccustomed to converse. Some had not the power to revise their creeds\nand their way of talking and preaching, and bring them into harmony with\nScripture and common sense. And people of this class were sure to look\non all who did not see things in the same light as themselves, as\ndangerous or damnable heretics. They, of course, concluded that I was\nnot sound in the faith. They felt that I was a troublesome, and feared\nthat I was a lost and ruined man. The remarks which I made to them, they\nrepeated to their friends; and as they seldom succeeded in understanding\nme properly, their reports were generally incorrect. In some cases my\nstatements were reported with important additions, and in others with\nserious alterations, and in some cases their meaning was entirely\nchanged. And the change was seldom to my advantage. A difference of\nexpression between me and my brethren was mistaken for a difference of\nbelief; and the disuse of an unscriptural word, was mistaken for a\nrenunciation of a Christian doctrine. A dispute about the \"eternal\nsonship\" was mistaken for a dispute about the divinity of Christ, and a\ndifference of opinion about the meaning of a passage of Scripture, came\nto be reported as the denial of Christ's authority. In one case I gave\nit as my judgment that there were really righteous people on earth when\nChrist came into the world, and that it was to such that Christ\nreferred, when He said, He \"came not to call the righteous, but sinners\nto repentance.\" This was made into an assertion that the coming of\nChrist was unnecessary. Inability to accept unauthorized definitions and\nunscriptural theories of Scriptural doctrines, was construed into a\ndenial of those doctrines. My endeavor to strip religious subjects of\nneedless mystery, was represented as an attempt to substitute a vain\nphilosophy for the Gospel of Christ. An expression of dissatisfaction\nwith a grandiloquent but foolish and mischievous sermon on the \"Cross\nof Christ,\" was set down as a proof that my views on the sacrifice of\nChrist were not evangelical. My endeavors to show that Christianity was\nin harmony with reason, were mistaken for an attempt to substitute\nreason for faith, and became the occasion of a rumor that I was running\ninto Pelagianism or Socinianism. My own conviction was, that I was\ncoming nearer to the simplicity, the purity, and the fulness of the\nGospel; and that is my conviction still. And those of my brethren in the\nministry who were in advance of the rest in point of intelligence and\npiety, and who were least infected with foolish fear and jealousy,\nexpressed to me their satisfaction with my views and proceedings. And\nthe people listened to my discourses with the greatest delight. They\nflocked to hear me in crowds; and the crowds continually increased. And\nmany were benefited under my ministry. Sinners were converted, and\nbelievers were comforted, and stimulated to greater efforts in the cause\nof God.\n\nTo those, however, who had come to believe that I was drifting towards\nheresy, all this was the occasion of greater alarm, and my great success\nand growing popularity led them to make increasing efforts to lessen my\ninfluence, or silence me altogether. Their conduct caused me great\nuneasiness, and it was this that first awakened in me unhappy feeling\ntowards them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nA SECOND TENDENCY. PRACTICAL PREACHING.\n\n\nI had a second powerful tendency which helped to get me into trouble,\nand so became an occasion of unhappy feeling, namely, a _practical_\ntendency. This was bred in me. It was a family peculiarity; it ran in\nthe blood. My father had it. Religion with him was goodness of heart and\ngoodness of life; fearing God and working righteousness; loving God and\nkeeping His commandments. And his belief and life were one. I never knew\na more conscientious or godly man. And I never knew a man who could more\ntruly have uttered the words of the Psalmist: \"Lord, my heart is not\nhaughty, nor mine eyes lofty; neither do I exercise myself in great\nmatters, or in things too high for me. Surely I have behaved and quieted\nmyself as a child that is weaned of its mother; my soul is even as a\nweaned child.\" What God had left mysterious, he was willing should\nremain so; he found sufficient to meet his wants and to occupy his\nthoughts in what He had clearly revealed. He never troubled either\nhimself or his children with those incomprehensible subjects on which\nmany people are so prone to speculate and dogmatize. He read but few\nbooks, and those which he read he carefully compared with the sacred\nScriptures. The Bible was his only authority, and by it he tested both\nbooks and preachers, receiving nothing but what he saw and felt to be in\nharmony with its spirit and teachings. He liked Bunyan, especially his\n_Pilgrim's Progress_; and he liked Wesley; but he liked the Bible best.\nThere were no bounds to his love and reverence for the Scriptures. He\nregarded them as the perfection of all wisdom, the true and perfect\nunfolding of the mind and will of God. He read them every morning on his\nknees, before the rest of the family were up. Whatever might be the\ncalls of business, he spent a full hour in this exercise. He read them\nevery noon to his family. He read them at night before retiring to rest.\nHe read them with a sincere desire to learn God's will, and with earnest\nprayer for Divine help to enable him to do it. He read them till all the\nplainer and more practical portions were safely lodged in his memory,\nand deeply engraven on his heart. He read them till their teachings\nbecame a part of his very nature, and shone forth in his character in\nall the beauty of holiness. He was a thorough Christian. The oracles of\nGod were the rule both of his faith and conduct. They leavened his whole\nsoul. They mingled with all his conversation. They were his only\ncounsellors and his chief comforters. They were his law, his politics,\nhis philosophy, his morals. They were his treasure and his song. And he\nreceived their teachings in their simple, obvious, common-sense meaning.\nHe had quite a distaste for commentaries, because they would not allow\nthe Scriptures to speak forth their own solemn meaning in their own\nplain, artless way. He hated the notes to Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_\nfor the same reason. He could understand the Bible, but he could not\nunderstand the explanations of it given by theologians. He would not\nstudy theology. He would study the Bible and Christ; he would study\nprecepts and promises, exhortations and warnings, examples and\nhistorics; but not theology. And he never bothered us with theology.\nThere was no theology in his conversation. There was none in his\nprayers. He never used theological terms. In all he said on religious\nmatters, whether to God or man, he used the simplest Bible terms. He\nseldom talked much to his children about religion; he taught us more by\nhis deeds and spirit than by words; but when he did say anything to us\non the subject, it was the pure, unadulterated Word of God. The idea of\nmaking us theologians, in the ordinary sense of the word, never entered\ninto his head. He wished us to think and feel and act like Christians,\nand that was all; and the end of all his counsels and labors was to\nfurnish us unto every good word and work. If he had written a system of\ndivinity, he would have left out most of the things which many put into\nsuch books, and put in many which most leave out. It would have been a\nbook to help people to live right and feel right, and not to dream, or\nspeculate, or wrangle. If he had been a preacher, he would have filled\nhis sermons with the living words of Moses and the Prophets, of Christ\nand His Apostles, and pressed them on the consciences of his hearers\nwith all his might. He would often have \"reasoned of righteousness,\ntemperance, and a judgment to come,\" but never troubled his hearers with\nhuman theories of Christian doctrines. The drift and scope of his\nsermons to the ungodly would have been, \"Cease to do evil; learn to do\nwell.\" \"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his\nthoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon\nhim; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.\" \"Repeat and be\nconverted, every one of you, that your sins may he blotted out.\" The\nsubstance of his sermons to believers would have been, \"I beseech you\ntherefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies\na living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable\nservice.\" \"Ye are not your own; ye are bought with a price; therefore\nglorify God with your bodies and your spirits, which are His.\" \"For ye\nwere not redeemed with corruptible things, such as silver and gold, from\nyour evil way of life received by tradition from your fathers; but with\nthe precious blood of Christ; who gave Himself for you, that He might\nredeem you from all iniquity, and purify you unto Himself a peculiar\npeople, zealous of good works.\" \"Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for\nwhatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to\nthe flesh, shall of the flesh, reap corruption; but he that soweth to\nthe Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting. And let us not be\nweary in well-doing; for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.\nAs we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men,\nespecially to those who are of the household of faith.\" He would have\nspoken of the love of God, and of the death of Christ, and of all the\ngreat moving facts and doctrines of the Gospel; but, like the sacred\nwriters, he would have turned them all to practical account. His aim in\neverything would have been to bring men into subjection to God's will,\nand into full conformity with the teachings and character of Christ.\n\nMy eldest brother was a minister, and this was the character of his\npreaching. His favorite books were Baxter's works and the Bible. His\nfavorite minister was William Dawson, one of the most practical,\nearnest, and common-sense preachers that ever occupied a pulpit. Like\nhis father, he kept scrupulously to the simple teachings of the\nScriptures, and he was once charged with unsoundness in the faith,\nbecause he would not be wise above what was revealed, nor preach more\nthan the Gospel committed to him by Christ.\n\nIt was the same with myself. I looked on Christianity, from the first,\nas a means of enlightening and regenerating mankind, and changing them\ninto the likeness of Christ and of God. In other words, I regarded it as\na grand instrument appointed by God, for making bad men into good men,\nand good men always better, thus fitting them for all the duties of\nlife, and all the blessedness they were created to enjoy. And I\nconsidered that the great business of a Christian minister was to use it\nfor those great ends. And I think so still.\n\nThe Bible is the most practical book under heaven, and I cannot conceive\nhow any one can read it carefully, with a mind unbiased by prejudice or\nevil feeling, without perceiving that its great object is to bring men\nto fear and love God, and to make them perfect in every good work to do\nHis will. How any one can study Christianity without perceiving that its\ndesign is to bring men into harmony with God, both in heart and action,\nand to make them steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of\nthe Lord, is a mystery to me. Antinomianism is Antichrist. The preaching\nwhich tends to lessen men's sense of duty, or to reconcile people to a\nselfish, idle, or useless life, is contrary both to Christianity and\ncommon sense. And all interpretations of Scripture which favor the\ndoctrine that men have nothing to do but to believe and trust in Christ,\nare madness or impiety. The impression which God seeks to make on our\nminds from the beginning of Genesis to the end of Revelation is, that if\nwe would have His favor and blessing, we must do His will. The whole\nBible is one great lesson of piety and virtue, of love and beneficence.\nChrist is \"the Author of eternal salvation to those\" only \"who obey\nHim.\" Those who obey Him not He will punish with everlasting\ndestruction. Christ and His Apostles agree that, if we would see God and\nhave eternal life, we must be \"holy as God is holy,\" \"merciful as our\nFather in heaven is merciful,\" \"righteous as Christ was\nrighteous;\"--that God, who is love, and Christ, who is God, must dwell\nin us, live in us, work in us;--that carnal, sinful self must die, and\n\"grace reign in us through righteousness unto eternal life.\"\n\nI know what can be said about doctrines; but there are no doctrines in\nthe Scriptures at variance with the principle that \"God will render to\nevery man according to his deeds,--that to them who by patient\ncontinuance in well-doing seek for glory, honor, and immortality, He\nwill give eternal life; and that to them who are contentious, and do not\nobey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, He will recompense indignation\nand wrath, tribulation and anguish.\" Nay, the doctrines of Scripture are\nemployed throughout as motives and inducements to righteousness. This is\ntheir use. The truth is taught us that it may make us free from sin, and\nsanctify both our hearts and lives to God. The Word of God, the\ndoctrine of Christ, is sown in our hearts as seed in the ground, that it\nmay bring forth in our lives \"the fruits of righteousness.\" The office\nof faith in Christ and His doctrine is, to \"work by love,\" to make us\n\"new creatures,\" and so bring us to keep God's commandments. The\nblindest man on earth is not more blind than the man who can read the\nScriptures without perceiving that their object is to make men \"perfect,\nthoroughly furnished unto all good works.\"\n\nAs I had never been placed for instruction under any Antinomian\ntheologian, and had never been taught at home, either by word or deed,\nto wrest the Scriptures from their plain and simple meaning, I naturally\nbecame a thoroughly practical preacher. I took practical texts: I\npreached practical sermons. The first text from which I preached was,\n\"Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well with them, for they shall eat\nthe fruit of their doings. Wo unto the wicked, it shall be ill with him;\nfor the reward of his hands shall be given him.\" The second was,\n\"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.\" The third was,\n\"Ye are not your own; ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God\nwith your bodies and spirits, which are God's.\" And the fourth was,\n\"These shall go away into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into\nlife eternal.\" The following were among my principal texts and subjects\nfor many years: \"Occupy till I come.\" \"Let your light so shine before\nmen, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is\nin heaven.\" \"Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit.\"\n\"He that showeth mercy with cheerfulness.\" \"Be ye therefore merciful, as\nyour Father which is in heaven is merciful.\" \"He that winneth souls is\nwise.\" \"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he\nwill not depart from it.\" The Good Samaritan. The Prodigal Son. The\nBarren Fig-tree. The Hatefulness and Wickedness of Lukewarmness. The\nWoman that did what she could. The Christian's Race. The Good Steward.\nThe duty of Christians to strive with one heart and one mind for the\nfaith of the Gospel. The example of Christ. \"Give no occasion to the\nadversary to preach reproachfully.\" \"And now abideth faith, hope,\ncharity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.\"\n\"Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always\nabounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor\nis not in vain in the Lord.\" \"For I am not ashamed of the gospel of\nChrist: for it is the power of God unto salvation: to every one that\nbelieveth: to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.\" \"I must work the\nworks of Him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no\nman can work.\" \"For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that,\nthough He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through\nHis poverty might be rich.\" \"As we have therefore opportunity, let us do\ngood unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of\nfaith.\" \"Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth\nthat shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the\nflesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the\nSpirit reap life everlasting.\" \"Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a\nfault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one, in the spirit of\nmeekness; considering thyself lest thou also be tempted.\" \"And let us\nnot be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint\nnot.\" \"Feed My sheep.\" \"Feed My lambs.\" \"Bear ye one another's burdens,\nand so fulfil the law of Christ.\" \"Remember the poor.\" \"Freely ye have\nreceived; freely give.\" \"It is more blessed to give than to receive.\" I\nhad quite a multitude of such subjects.\n\nI did not however confine myself to these. I did my best to declare the\nwhole counsel of God. I kept back nothing that seemed likely to be\nuseful to my hearers. I spoke on the love of God,--on the condescension\nof Christ,--of His unparalleled love in giving Himself a sacrifice for\nour salvation. I spoke of His sufferings and death,--of His resurrection\nand mediation,--of His sympathy with our sorrows,--of His coming to\njudgment. I spoke of the miseries of sin,--of the pleasures of\nreligion,--of the joys of heaven,--of the pains of hell,--of providence,\nand of trust in God. In short, I preached on every great doctrine of\nrevelation as I had opportunity. I revered all God's truth, and I\npreached on every part of it with fidelity. But I treated everything in\na practical way. I used every subject as a means or motive to holiness\nand usefulness. And this, I believe, was right. The Apostles did\nso,--Christ did so,--and they are the Christian minister's examples.\n\nI had a partiality for practical books. As I have already said, among my\nfavorite English authors were Hooker, and Baxter, and Barrow, and Howe,\nand Jeremy Taylor, and Penn, and Tillotson, and Law. Baxter stood first,\nand my favorite books were his _Christian Directory_, his _Life of\nFaith_, his _Crucifixion of the World by the Cross of Christ_, and his\n_Directions for Settled Peace of Conscience_. But, in truth, it is hard\nto say which of his works I did not regard as favorites. I liked his\n_Catholic Theology_, his _Aphorisms on Justification_, his\n_Confessions_, and even his Latin _Methodus Theologiae_. I read him\neverlastingly. I read Law and Barrow too, till I almost knew many of\ntheir works by heart. I studied Penn from beginning to end. And I never\ngot tired of reading Hooker. I regarded his _Ecclesiastical Polity_ as\none of the richest, sweetest, wisest, saintliest books under heaven.\n\nMy favorite French authors were Massillon, Fenelon, Flechier, Bourdaloue\nand Saurin, all practical preachers. Massillon moved me most. I have\nread him now at intervals for more than forty years, and I read him\nstill with undiminished profit and delight. He is the greatest of all\npreachers; the most eloquent, the most powerful; and his works abound\nwith the grandest, the profoundest, the most impressive and overpowering\nviews of truth and duty.\n\nAmong the Fathers I liked Lactantius and Chrysostom best, not only for\nthe superiority of their style, but for the common sense and practical\ncharacter of their sentiments.\n\nMy favorite Methodist author, when I first began my Christian career,\nwas Benson. His sermons were full of fervor and power. I felt less\ninterest in Wesley at first. I was incapable of duly appreciating his\nworks. As I grew older, and got more sense, my estimate both of his\ncharacter and writings rose, and now I like him better, and esteem him\nmore highly, than at any former period of my life. And I like his latest\nwritings best.\n\nI liked Fletcher very much, partly on account of the good, kind\nChristian feeling that pervaded his writings, and partly on account of\nhis able and unanswerable defence of the enlightened and scriptural\nviews of Wesley, as set forth in the Minutes of 1771.\n\nAmong the later Dissenting writers, Robert Hall was my favorite. I liked\nmany things in the writings of John Angell James; but there were other\nthings, especially in his _Anxious Inquirer_, that appeared to savor\nmore of mysticism than of Christianity, and that seemed better\ncalculated to perplex and embarrass young disciples of Christ, than to\nafford them guidance and comfort.\n\nThere were many other good authors whom I read and prized, but most of\nthe above I read till their thoughts and feelings became, to a great\nextent, my own; and the effect of all was to strengthen the already\nstrong practical tendency of my mind.\n\nBut no book did so much to make me a practical preacher as the Bible. It\nis practical throughout--intensely practical, and nothing else but\npractical. The moment it introduces man to our notice, it presents him\nas subject to God's law, and represents his life and blessedness as\ndepending entirely on his obedience. God is presented from the first as\nan avenger of sin, and as a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.\nIn His address to Cain He sets forth the whole principle of His\ngovernment: 'If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? But if thou\ndoest not well, sin lieth at the door.' Enoch is translated because he\nwalked with God. The world is destroyed because of its wickedness, and\nNoah is saved because of his righteousness. Abraham is blessed because\nhe observes the statutes and judgments of God, and because he is ready\nto make the greatest sacrifices out of respect to His commands. The sum\nof the whole revelation given to the Jews is, \"Behold I set before you\nlife and death, a blessing and a curse. Obey, and all conceivable\nblessings shall be your portion: disobey, and all imaginable curses\nshall fall on you.\" The history of the Jews is an everlasting story of\nobedience and prosperity, of disobedience and adversity. The history of\nindividuals is the same. The just live; the wicked die. The good are\nhonored; the bad are put to shame. The Psalms, the Proverbs, and the\nProphets are all lessons of righteousness. Righteousness exalteth\nnations; sin brings them down to destruction. And Jesus and Paul, and\nPeter and James, and Jude and John, have all one aim, to bless men by\nturning them away from their iniquities, and by urging them to perpetual\nadvancement in holiness. All the histories, all the biographies, all the\nprophecies, all the parables, all the preaching, all the praying, all\nthe writing, all the reasoning, all the things the Book contains, have\njust one object, to make men good, and urge them to grow continually\nbetter. All the doctrines are practical, and are used as motives to\npurity, love and beneficence. All the promises are given to support and\ncheer people in the faithful discharge of their duty. All the warnings\nare to keep men from idleness, selfishness and sin. The Church and all\nits ministries; the Scriptures and all their revelations; Providence and\nall its dispensations; nature and all her operations, are all presented\nas means and motives to a life of holy love and usefulness. The Bible\nhas nothing, is nothing, but laws and lessons, aiming at the\nillumination, the sanctification, the moral and spiritual perfection of\nmankind.\n\nIdleness and selfishness are the greatest of all heresies, and love and\nbeneficence the perfection of all religion. No doctrine can be falser or\nmore anti-christian than the doctrine that a man may sow one thing and\nreap another; that he may sow tares and reap wheat; or sow cockle and\nreap barley--that he can grow thistles and reap figs, or plant thorns\nand gather grapes. 'He that doeth good is of God;' 'he that committeth\nsin is of the devil.' 'By this we know that we have passed from death\nunto life, because we love the brethren.' 'By this shall all men know\nthat ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.' 'Ye know that\nevery one that doeth righteousness, or lives to do good, is born of\nGod.' 'By their fruits ye shall know them.' Good trees will bring forth\ngood fruit, bad trees will bring forth bad fruit. 'Every tree that\nbringeth not forth good fruit shall be hewn down and cast into the\nfire.'\n\nBut to give all the practical passages the Bible contains you must quote\nthe substance, the soul, the bulk of the whole Book. It is all of a\npiece. It has one aim and one tendency from beginning to end, to kill\nsin and foster righteousness, to crush selfishness and develop\nphilanthropy. It consists of a multitude of parts, written in different\nages, by a great variety of authors, in a great variety of styles, but\nit has one spirit, the spirit of truth and righteousness. And the last\noracles it contains are like the first: 'Blessed are the dead that die\nin the Lord; they rest from their labors, and their works follow them.'\n'Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have a right\nto the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city.'\n\nUnder the influence of this most rational, common-sense, practical Book,\nwhat could I do but become a thoroughly practical preacher? What could I\ndo but drink in its blessed, god-like lessons, and make it the great\nbusiness of my life to teach them and preach them to my hearers, and\nurge them on their consciences as the governing principles of their\nhearts and lives?\n\nThe book of nature preaches the same practical Gospel as the Bible.\nThere is not a creature on earth that is not required to work. Birds,\nbeasts and insects must all labor, or die. The birds must build their\nnests, and gather supplies of food for themselves and their young, or\nthey would all perish. The cattle must graze, or browse, or burrow, or\ndive, or lack their needed supplies of food. The beaver must build its\ndam, and the wolf must dig its hole, and both must labor for their daily\nfood. The bee must gather her wax, and build her cell, and fetch home\nher honey, or starve. The ant must build her palace and look out for\nfood both for herself and her family. The spider must spin her thread,\nand weave her web, and watch all day for her prey. All seek their food\nfrom God, and obtain it at his hands as the reward of their industry.\n\nEvery organ in man's body has to work, or the body, with all its organs,\nwould die. The lungs must be continually breathing, and the heart\nincessantly beating, and the blood perpetually running its mysterious\nround, or the whole frame would perish. And the hands must work, and the\nfeet must walk, and the eyes must look, and the ears must listen, and\nthe tongue must talk. And the jaws must grind our food, and the stomach\ndigest it, and the liver and the spleen, and the brain and the bowels,\nand the nerves and the glands must all co-operate, or we hasten to the\ndust.\n\nAnd so it is through every department of nature. All things are full of\nlabor. The vegetable world serves the animal world, and the animal world\nserves the vegetable world, and the mineral and meteorological worlds\nserve them both. And the branches of the tree shed their leaves to feed\nthe roots, and the roots collect moisture and nutriment from the soil to\nfeed the branches and the leaves. And the clouds let fall their showers,\nand the sun sheds down his warmth and light, and the more mysterious\npowers of nature exert their secret influences, and all things are thus\nkept right. And the winds keep ever in motion, bearing away the surplus\ncold of one region to temper the excessive heat of another, and carrying\nback the surplus heat of the warmer climes, to soften the rigors of the\ncolder ones. And so throughout the universe. There is not an idle orb in\nthe whole heavens, nor is there an idle atom on earth. The sun the moon\nand the stars are in eternal motion, and are evermore exerting their\nwondrous influences for the good of the whole universe. And the streams\nare ever flowing, and the sea is ever toiling. The great things and the\nsmall, the seen and the unseen, the conscious and the unconscious, are\nall at work, helping themselves, and serving each other, and\ncontributing with one consent to the welfare of the great mysterious\nwhole. Nature's laws are so framed that idleness is everywhere punished,\nand honest industry everywhere rewarded. Everywhere obedience is life,\nand disobedience death. Salvation by works is the principle of the\nDivine Government throughout the universe, among all the creatures of\nGod.\n\nMy favorite preachers were William Dawson, David Stoner and James\nParsons, all eloquent and earnest men, and all decidedly practical. I\nnever missed an opportunity of hearing them if they came within five or\nsix miles of the place where I lived. And many of their sermons which I\nheard more than forty years ago are still fresh in my memory, and\ncontinue to exert a happy influence on my heart.\n\nWilliam Dawson was a local preacher, a farmer. He was a large,\nbroad-chested, big-headed, strong built man,--one of the finest\nspecimens of a well-made, thoroughly developed Englishman I ever saw.\nAnd he was full of life. There was not a sluggish atom in his whole\nbody, nor a slow-going faculty in his whole soul. He had eyes like fire;\nand his face was the most expressive I ever looked upon. And his voice\nwas loud as the fall of mighty waters. And it was wonderfully flexible,\nand full of music. And he always spoke in natural tones. There was\nnothing like cant or monotony in his utterance. Yet he would raise his\nvoice to such a pitch at times that you could hear him half a mile away.\nHe was the most perfect actor I ever saw, because he was not an actor at\nall, but awful, absolute reality. And he was a man of wonderful\nintelligence and good sense. And he was well read. His mind was full to\noverflowing of the soundest religious knowledge. And his good sound\nsense had no perceptible admixture of nonsense. Every sentence answered\nto your best ideas of the right, the true, the holy, the divine. His\ngrammar, his logic, and his rhetoric were perfect, and all nature seemed\nto stand by to supply him with apt, and striking, and touching\nillustrations. And his soul was full of feeling. He seemed to sympathize\nwith every form of humanity, from the helpless babe to tottering age,\nand to be one with them in all their joys and sorrows, and in all their\nhopes and fears. And now he would cry with the crying child, and then he\nwould wail with the afflicted mother. All that is great, all that is\ntender, all that is terrible,--all nature, with all that is human, and\nmuch that was divine, seemed incarnated in him. He was the most\nwonderful embodiment of all that goes to make a great, a mighty, a\ncomplete man, and a good, an able, and an all-powerful preacher, it ever\nwas my privilege to see. As a matter of course, his prayers, his\nsermons, and his public speeches were irresistible. Sinners trembled,\nand fell on their knees praying and howling. Saints shouted, and lost\nthemselves in transports. His congregations were always crowded, and the\ndense, mixed masses of men and women, good and evil, old and young, all\nwere moved by him like the sea by a strong wind. All understood him: all\nfelt him; and all were awed and bowed as by the power of God. His\nsermons were always practical. Whether he spake to the saint or the\nsinner, he went directly to the conscience. And all that he said you\nsaw. Sin stared you full in the face and looked unspeakably sinful; it\nrose and stood before you a monster group of all imaginable horrors and\nabominations. The sinner shook, he shrank, he writhed at the sight, in\nmortal agony. God, as Dawson pictured Him, was terrible in majesty and\ninfinite in glory. Jesus was the perfection of tenderness, of love, and\npower, and almighty to save. Thousands were converted under him. His\ninfluence pervaded the whole country, and was everywhere a check on\nevil, and a power for good. The effect of his ministry on me, on my\nimagination, my mind and my heart, was living and powerful to the last\ndegree, and I remember his sermons, and feel his power, to the present\nday, and he will dwell in my memory, to be loved and honored, as long as\nI live.\n\nDavid Stoner was a travelling preacher. He lived in the same village as\nWilliam Dawson, and was a member of his class. He was a disciple of\nDawson in every respect, but in no respect a servile imitator. He was a\nman and not a slave. And he had much of Dawson's sense, and much of\nDawson's power, though little or nothing of Dawson's natural dramatic\nmanner. He was a fountain pouring forth a perpetual stream of truth and\nholy influence. The two were one in love, and light, and power, but in\nmanner they differed as much as any two powerful preachers I ever knew.\nBoth live in my soul, and speak with my voice, and write with my pen.\nBoth had an influence in determining both the method of my preaching and\nthe manner of my life in my early days.\n\nJames Parsons was a Congregationalist. His character, and the character\nof his preaching, may be learned from his published sermons. But,\nstrange to say, the sermons published by himself, are not near so good,\nnor do they convey half so good an idea of his power, as those reported\nby short-hand writers and published by others. He was more, and better,\nand mightier in the pulpit, before a large and living congregation, than\nin his closet alone. My remembrance of these three great and godly men,\nand powerful Christian ministers, is a rich and eternal treasure. I can\nnever come near them, but I may follow them, as I did in the days of my\nyouth, \"Afar off.\"\n\nWhether the strong practical tendency of my mind did not carry me too\nfar sometimes, and make my preaching somewhat one-sided, I cannot say. I\nmay not be considered qualified to judge. I have, however, an opinion on\nthe subject. My impression is, that my method of preaching was\nthoroughly scriptural and evangelical. And it was, I believe, the kind\nof preaching which the Church and the world particularly needed. It was,\ntoo, the kind of preaching to which I believe I was specially called,\nand for which I was specially fitted. It was the only kind in which I\nfelt myself perfectly at home. And the effects were good. Sinners were\nconverted. Unbelievers were convinced. And believers were improved and\ncomforted. They were led to read and study the Scriptures more, and to\nread and study them with greater pleasure, and to greater profit. They\nbecame more enamoured of Christianity, more zealous for its spread, and\nmore able in its defence.\n\nAnd the societies among which I labored always prospered, and those\namong which I labored most prospered most abundantly. My labors proved\nespecially useful to the young. My classes were crowded with thoughtful,\nearnest, inquiring youths. And those who fell under my influence became,\nas a rule, intelligent, devoted, and useful characters. Not a few of\nthem continue laborious and exemplary Christians, and able and\nsuccessful ministers, to the present day. I meet with good and useful\npeople almost everywhere, many of whom are in the ministry, who\nacknowledge me as their spiritual father, and consider themselves\nindebted to my former ministry, and to my early writings, both for their\nstanding and usefulness in the Church, and for their success and\nhappiness in life.\n\nOne would suppose that a method of preaching which was followed by such\nhappy results, should have been encouraged. And so it was by the great\nmass of the people. They heard me gladly. They came in crowds wherever I\nwas announced to preach, and filled the largest chapels to their utmost\ncapacity. They drank in my words with eagerness, and made no secret of\nthe place I occupied in their affection and esteem. But many of my\nbrethren in the ministry regarded me with great disquietude. They\nthought my preaching grievously defective. \"It failed,\" they said, \"to\ngive due prominence to the distinctive features of the gospel economy.\"\n\"It is good,\" they would say, \"as far as it goes; but it does not go far\nenough. It is too vague, too general. His sermons are beautiful and good\nin their way, but they are not the Gospel. They are true; but they are\nnot the whole truth. There is not enough of Christ in them. We find\nfault with them, not for what they _contain_, but for what they do _not_\ncontain. True, they make mention of the great facts and doctrines of\nChristianity, but they do not make enough of them; they do not dwell on\nthem as their constant theme.\" They made many such complaints. They\ncharged me with winning from my hearers, for a partial and defective\nview of the Gospel, the love and reverence which were due only to a very\ndifferent view. They called me a legalist, a work-monger, and other\noffensive names. They charged me too with spoiling the people, with\ngiving them a distaste for ordinary kinds of preaching, and making it\nhard for other preachers to follow me. The complaints they whispered in\nthe ears of their friends soon found their way to mine. I endeavored to\njustify myself by appeals to Scripture, to Wesley, and to other\nauthorities. It would have been better perhaps if I had kept silent and\ngone quietly on with my work. But some of my friends thought otherwise.\nThey wished to be furnished with answers to my traducers, and so\nconstrained me to speak. My defence only led to renewed and more violent\nattacks. My opponents could not think well of my style of preaching,\nwithout thinking ill of their own. They could not acknowledge my method\nto be evangelical, without confessing their own to be grievously\ndefective, and to have expected them to do that would have been the\nextreme of folly. They could do no other therefore than regard me as a\ndangerous man, and do what they could to bring my preaching and\nsentiments into suspicion, and prepare the way for my exclusion from the\nministry. This was the second cause of the unhappy feeling which took\npossession of my mind.\n\nA few quotations from a Journal written about this time may be of use\nand interest here.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nEXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY.\n\n\nI heard T. Batty yesterday. His text was, \"Come unto Me all ye that\nlabor, and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.\" He urged people\nto come to Christ, but he never told them what it was to come to Him. We\ncannot come to Him literally now, as people did when He was on earth;\nbut we can leave all other teachers and guides, and renounce the\ndominion of our appetites and passions, and put ourselves under His\nteaching and government. In other words, we can become Christians; we\ncan learn Christ's doctrine and obey it, and, thus obeying, trust in Him\nfor salvation. But Mr. Batty said not a word about this. He talked as if\nall that people had to do, was to roll themselves on Christ, or cast\nthemselves on Him just as they were. He made all the passages about\nbringing forth fruits meet for repentance,--hearing Christ's words and\ndoing them,--denying ourselves and taking up our cross,--using our\ntalents, working in His cause, &c., of no effect. He said, \"Come just as\nyou are. If you tarry till you are better, you will never come at all;\"\nwhich seems to me, neither Scripture nor common sense. To come to\nChrist, in the proper sense of the words, is to become better;--it is to\ncease to live to ourselves and sin, and to live to God. Hence Christ, in\nconnection with Mr. Batty's text says, \"Take my yoke upon you, and learn\nof Me, for I am meek, and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto\nyour souls.\" The meaning of this is, give up the service of self and\nsin, and serve me. Take me for your pattern, and be as I am, and live as\nI live. But he never noticed the latter part of the passage.\n\n--What a blessed thing it is to have so many good books! They are a\nworld of comfort to me, as well as a means of ever-increasing spiritual\ngood. And they are evermore startling and delighting me with striking\noracles of Christian truth. Here is one from Baxter. \"Every truth of God\nis appointed to be His instrument, to do some holy work upon your\nheart! _Charity_ is the end of _truth_.\" Here is another: \"The Gospel is\na seal, on which is engraven the portrait, the likeness of Christ. Our\nhearts are the wax, on which the seal should be impressed, and to which\nthe likeness should be transferred. The duty of ministers and of all\nreligious teachers is to apply the seal to men's hearts, that all may be\nbrought to bear the image, the likeness of Christ.\"\n\n--I always placed the moral element of religion above the doctrinal;\ncharity above faith; good living above any kind of opinions.\n\n--This afternoon Mr. Burrows preached on Mary's choice, but he left the\nmatter in a mist. He talked about sitting at Christ's feet, but did not\nsay what it meant. We cannot do that literally now; but we can do what\namounts to the same thing. We can _read_ Christ's words in the\n_Gospels_, as Mary _heard_ them from His _lips_; and we can do as He\nbids us, and look to Him for all we need. And this, in truth, is the\n\"one thing needful.\" But he did not put the matter in this light. He\nprobably did not see it in this light. He would have been afraid perhaps\nto receive or to give so simple an explanation of the matter.\n\nI had a talk with Mr. Woodhouse last night, about man's natural state.\nHe preached on the subject on Tuesday night, and said things which, to\nme, seemed unwarranted. He said men can do nothing good, till they are\nregenerated.\n\nIs that your idea? said I.\n\nOf course. Are they not _dead_? And what can dead men do?\n\nI suppose they can do as God bids them, \"Arise from the dead.\" You spoke\nof the result of Adam's sin, but you said nothing of the effect of the\nsecond Adam's doings. Now I believe that we are put in as good a\nposition by Christ, for serving God and obtaining heaven, as we should\nhave been if Adam had not sinned. I believe men have good thoughts, good\nfeelings, and do good things, before they are regenerated; and that they\nare regenerated in consequence of their good thoughts, good purposes,\nand good deeds. \"They consider their ways,\" and turn to God. They cease\nto do evil, and learn to do well, and so get washed. They purify their\nhearts in obeying the truth. They cleanse their hands and purify their\nhearts. They come out from the ungodly, and leave their ungodly ways,\nand then God receives them. They hear God's word or read it; and faith\ncomes by hearing and reading; and faith works by love, and makes them\nnew creatures.\n\nBesides, you know we could not help what Adam did, and you talked as if\nAdam's sin made it impossible for us to do anything else but sin, thus\nthrowing the blame of the sins of all the unregenerate on Adam; and that\nis neither Scriptural nor wise. There are two tendencies in unregenerate\npeople, one to good, and one to evil, and it is their duty to resist the\none and obey the other, and thus to seek for regeneration. That is as I\nunderstand the Bible. And I always try to make people believe and feel,\nthat if they do not get regenerated, and keep God's commandments, it is\ntheir own fault, and neither Adam's nor God's.\n\nWe talked nearly an hour, but I fancy Mr. W. did not seem to understand\neither me or the Bible. It is strange that people can't take God's word\nas it stands, and content themselves with speaking as the oracles of God\nspeak. If we can't do anything but sin till we are regenerated, who is\nto blame for our sin, but He who neglects to regenerate us? What\nhorrible notions are mistaken by some for Gospel? \"Send out, O God, thy\nlight and truth; let them lead me and guide me.\"\n\n--Poor Mr. Woodhouse is full of trouble. He thinks me wrong, but does\nnot see how to put me right.\n\n--What a curious creature Mr. Batty is. How in the world did he come to\nbe a preacher? A stranger, sillier talker I think I never heard. I\ncannot say he is childish exactly. Children talk nonsense plenty\nsometimes, but no child could talk the kind of nonsense Mr. Batty talks.\nLast night his text was, \"He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and\nwith fire.\" But he forgot the Holy Ghost, and talked only about fire.\nHis object seemed to be to prove that fire would _burn_. He mentioned\nseveral fires spoken of in the Bible that _did_ burn, such as the fire\nthat consumed Sodom and Gomorrah; the fire that formed one of the\nplagues of Egypt; &c., but he came at length on the fire in the bush\nthat Moses saw, and, poor man, he was obliged to acknowledge that that\nwould not burn. The bush was unconsumed. He got away from that fire as\nsoon as he could, and found a number of other fires that _did_ burn. By\nand by however he came upon the burning fiery furnace of Nebuchadnezzar.\nThis would burn _some_ that were thrown into it, but it would not burn\nothers. Then he talked about the fire of Moscow, and said, that _that_\nfire gave as much light to the moon, as the moon gives to the earth, and\nhe added, that the flames of the burning city made such a blaze, that we\nmight have seen it in England, if it had not been for the hills. And\nthis is the talk that sensible people are expected to go and hear.\n\n--Mr. W. preached one of Mr. Melville's sermons last night. It was a\ngood one though, and I had rather a man preached another man's good\nsense, than his own nonsense. And I had rather hear a good sermon read,\nthan a bad one spoken. Let us have good sound sense, real Christian\ndoctrine, and fervent Christian love, in the first place, and then as\nmany other good things as we can get. But do let the children of God\nhave good wholesome bread, the bread of heaven, and pure living water\nfrom the wells of salvation. Don't try to feed men's souls with chaff or\nchopped straw, and don't give them mud or muddy water to drink.\n\n--Heard Mr. Hulme last night on \"The Cross of Christ.\" The sermon was an\nattempt at fine preaching. It was not to my taste. The preacher did not\nseem to understand his subject. What he said had nothing to do with the\nconscience or the heart. It was talk,--tumid talk--high-swelling words,\nnothing more.\n\n--Heard Mr. Allen preach on the Flood. He talked a deal about\ngranite--labored hard to prove something; but whether he succeeded or\nnot, I cannot exactly tell. It was a \"_great_ sermon\" and had little\neffect. I did not feel much interest in it.\n\n--Heard him preach another great sermon on Isaiah's vision. It amounted\nto nothing. I prefer a simpler and more practical kind of preaching.\n\n--Heard him preach another sermon on death by Adam. It was not so great\nnor so foolish as the others. The logic was wearisome, but the\napplication was tolerable.\n\n--Heard Dr. Newton, on preaching Christ. His views on the subject are\nvery different from Wesley's, and as different from mine. I have heard\nmany silly sermons on the subject, but not one wise one. Many seem to be\nafraid of being sensible on religious subjects. They are wise enough on\nsmaller matters; it is only on the greatest that their understandings\nare at fault. But the silliest preachers repeat good words in their\nsermons, such as Christ, God, love and heaven, and these words no doubt\ncall up good thoughts, and revive good feelings in the minds of people,\nso that the most pitiful preachers may be of some use. But how much more\nuseful would good, sound, sensible and truly Christian preachers be, who\nalways talked plain Christian truth, and pressed it home in a loving,\nChrist-like spirit.\n\n--Heard Mr. Curtis last night. His text and introduction were good; but\nthe sermon was good for nothing.\n\n--Heard Mr. Pea this afternoon. The chief use of many preachers is to\nvisit the members, and stand at the head of the societies as centres of\nunion. They do not do much good by preaching.\n\n--God save me from error and sin. Lead me in the way of truth and\nrighteousness. I feel a dreadful contempt for some men's preaching. Save\nme from going too far. But really, to hear how careful some are to warn\npeople against thinking too highly of good works, one might suppose that\nthe world and the Church were going to be sent to perdition for too much\npiety and charity; for doing too much good, and making too many\nsacrifices for God and the salvation of the world. O fools and blind,\nnot to see, that selfishness, idleness, luxury, pride, worldliness,\nslavery to fashion, neglect of the Bible, ignorance and lukewarmness are\nthe things which disgrace and weaken the Church, and hinder the\nsalvation of mankind.\n\n--Mr. Stoner preached powerfully last night. He said all true Christians\nwould \"sigh and cry on account of the abominations that are done in the\nland,--that they would accompany their sighing and crying with ceaseless\nlabors for the removal of those abominations,--that they would try to\nbring the world into the Church, and lift up the Church to the standard\nexhibited in the life and character of Christ,--that they would pray,\nteach, live and give, and if needful, suffer for this great end.\" I\nhave not heard such a practical,--such a truly Christian Gospel sermon\nfor a long time.\n\n--I notice, that in some men's mouths, evangelical sermons mean\ntheological sermons,--wood, hay, and stubble sermons,--sermons without\nany Gospel in them; and that sermons which are evangelical indeed, they\ntalk of as legal, moral, dry.\n\n--Mr. Lynn preached on the fall of Jericho yesterday. It was quite a\ndramatic sermon, and it was plainly interesting to the congregation. I\nexpect it was useful too. There was not much Christian truth in it, but\nit stirred the people's better feelings. It made them feel like doing\nsomething for God. The nonsensical theology introduced would not be\nunderstood I hope.\n\n--Heard Mr. T. Parsons preach a beautiful Christian sermon on \"Brethren,\nif a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such a\none in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself lest thou also be\ntempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of\nChrist.\" It was full of useful instruction and needful caution, and it\nwas uttered in a truly Christian spirit. It did me good.\n\n--Heard Mr. Scott on justification. He ventured to \"speak as the oracles\nof God.\" It was a thoroughly Gospel and Wesleyan sermon. He was plainer\nthan he is in his pamphlets on that subject. I can't say he _made_ the\nsubject plain, for it was plain already in the Bible--but he _left_ it\nplain, and that is saying a great deal. He said that the simple way for\na man who believes in Christ, to obtain pardon and eternal life is, to\ndo God's will. I distinguish between faith and trust; faith is _belief_;\ntrust or hope is one of its fruits. People _believe_ in Christ, and turn\nto God; then they _trust_ in Christ and find peace. He did not state\nthis point with sufficient clearness; and that was the only defect I saw\nin the discourse. How rich and how apt he is in Scriptural quotations\nand illustrations! I had rather hear one of his discourses, than ten of\nMr. Allin's. And I had rather hear ten of his, than one of Mr. Allin's.\nI had rather hear one of Mr. Allin's, than ten; and I had rather hear\nten of Mr. Scott's than one. I could listen to Mr. Scott the whole year\nround.\n\n--I have just been reading a big book, nearly five hundred pages, on the\nway of salvation. The Scriptures explain the way of salvation in less\nthan a thousandth part the space. \"Repent and be converted, that your\nsins may be blotted out;\" that's the first thing: \"Be ye steadfast,\nunmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord:\" that's the second.\nThese two include the whole way of salvation. \"Blessed is everyone that\nhears the word of God and keeps it.\" This is both in one. Mystery makers\nwould be a proper name for some theologians. \"In the multitude of words\nthere wanteth not sin;\" and there's a fearful multitude of words,--idle\nwords, and mischievous ones too,--in that Book. \"When will vain words\nhave an end?\"\n\n--Mr. Hatman preached on instantaneous sanctification last night. He was\nvery confused, and, as I think, inconsistent in his remarks; and his\narguing about the instantaneousness of sanctification seemed weak.\nSanctification, in Scripture language, means, 1. Separation of things\nand persons from common uses, and consecration to sacred uses. 2.\nPurification. A man is sanctified in the first sense when he ceases to\ndo evil, and begins to do well; and he is sanctified in the second sense\nin proportion as he is freed from inward defilement, from bad passions,\nbad tempers, bad dispositions, bad tendencies, and filled with love to\nGod, to Christ, to God's people, to mankind at large, and to all things\ntrue and good. There is no mystery about sanctification. People are\nsanctified by God's truth. Christ's doctrine enters the mind, and is the\nmeans of changing both the disposition and the life. Men are sanctified\nby the Spirit, using the truth as its instrument. They are sanctified by\nafflictions, used by God as means to bring them to think on the truth,\nand see its meaning, and feel its power. They are sanctified by faith,\nwhich is a belief in the Truth. They are sanctified by their own\nefforts, \"Cleansing themselves from all filthiness, both of the flesh\nand the spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord.\" \"For every\none that hath this hope,--the Christian hope of heaven,--in him,\npurifieth himself even as God is pure.\" All this is perfectly plain. But\nwhere does the Scripture say anything about people being wholly\nsanctified, or perfected in goodness, instantaneously, by some\nparticular act of faith? \"But God can do it in an instant,\" said Mr.\nHatman. But it is not all God's work. It is partly ours; and it is\npartly the truth's. Can _man_ purify himself as God is pure, in an\ninstant? God could make a babe into a man in an instant, for anything I\nknow; but that is not His way. He allows it to grow gradually, first by\nthe use of milk and exercise, and then by the use of stronger meat, and\ngreater labors. And according to Scripture, this is His plan of bringing\nup spiritual babes to spiritual manhood. God could make seed produce a\ncrop instantaneously, if He would, I suppose; but His plan is to let the\ngrain grow and ripen gradually. And it is His plan, according to\nScripture, to let the spiritual grain grow up and the spiritual harvest\nripen gradually. And it is better it should be so. Gradual growth in\nknowledge and goodness is most conducive, I believe, to the happiness of\nman. I would not make a child into a man all at once if I could. I would\nlet him have the pleasure and the privilege of passing, in the ordinary\nway, through all the intermediate stages. Nor would I alter the\narrangement with regard to spiritual growth. It is best to learn a\nlesson at a time. You might raise the dough quicker by gunpowder than by\nleaven or yeast; but I prefer to see it raised in the ordinary way. I am\ncontent to grow in grace and knowledge, as people grow in strength and\nstature. It is God's plan, and I like it. If anybody can pass from the\ngates of hell to the gates of heaven, from the bottom of the horrible\npit to the top of the delectable mountains at a jump, let him; I prefer\nto trudge with ordinary pilgrims, and enjoy the pleasures of the\njourney, and the beautiful scenery of the road, at my leisure. \"The ways\nare ways of pleasantness; the paths are paths of peace;\" and I enjoy\nthem. And I would not for the world, make the impression on people's\nminds, that they are in danger of perdition, if they cannot skip across\nthe universe from hell to heaven in no time. God likes spiritual\nchildren as well as spiritual men, though He would not have them to\ncontinue children. Why should preachers make things hard that God makes\neasy, and require impossible tasks where God asks only a reasonable\nservice? Some folks have little minds, and some have crooked ones.\nThat's my view of the matter. I am charged with rejecting God's truth.\nThe fact however is, God's truth is the joy and rejoicing of my heart.\nIt is my pleasant food. But I do not like some people's manglement of\nthat truth, and I sometimes think the manglers belong to the class\nof whom Christ said, \"It were good for those men if they had never\nbeen born.\" They lay stumbling-blocks in men's ways, and cause them\nto fall into doubt, perplexity, and misery. I am a believer in\nsanctification,--full sanctification,--but I won't go beyond the Bible\nin what I say, either on this or any other point. I will go as far as\nthe Bible, but no farther.\n\n--Christianity is love; and love prompts to diligence in all good works.\nTo be a Christian is to have the mind of Christ; but the mind of Christ\nwas a self-sacrificing mind. \"He pleased not Himself,\" but lived and\nlabored, suffered and died, for the welfare of mankind.\n\nHow seldom one hears a sermon on living for the good of others,--on\nloving our neighbors as ourselves,--on going about doing good. I have\nread sermons on those subjects; but I have not heard one for years. I\nhave heard _charity_ sermons as they are called, and missionary sermons,\ninto which a remark or two on doing good were thrown; but a _sermon_ on\nthe subject I have not heard. Certain preachers talk about preaching\nChrist, but they preach any thing rather than Christ.\n\n--I have just been reading a labored and foolish attempt to prove that\nAbel was accepted because he offered animals to God, and that Cain was\nrejected because he offered the fruits of the ground. There is no end to\nthe nonsense that can be talked and written on religious subjects. Here\nis a man from whom one expected instruction and guidance, wasting his\ngreat powers in worse than idleness. It is a foolish and a dangerous\nthing to hang the doctrine of reconciliation or redemption on a slender\nhook, when there are strong ones plenty to hang it on. But it is not the\n_Christian_ doctrine of redemption for which Mr. W. labors so zealously,\nbut a theory, a crotchet, an invention of the elders. The doctrine\nitself requires no labored proof, no doubtful criticisms, no learned or\nunlearned inquiry into Greek and Hebrew etymologies. It lies on the\nsurface of the sacred page. \"The Son of man came not to be ministered\nunto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.\" \"He died\nthe just for the unjust, to bring us to God.\" \"He died for all, that\nthey who live should henceforth live not unto themselves, but unto Him\nwho died for them and rose again.\" These theorists make Christianity\ndisgusting by their metaphysical vanities, and their outlandish jargon.\nThe idea that it is necessary for me to believe that Abel understood the\nChristian doctrine of redemption, is monstrous. There is no proof that\nAbel know anything about it. The probabilities lean all the other way.\nIt is a pity those self-satisfied theorizers have not something else to\ndo, than to encumber religion and perplex good people by their miserable\nspeculations.\n\n--There's another book, one thousand two hundred and fifty pages, by a\nman that had real talent, and that could preach well when he took in\nhand practical subjects, and who had the appearance of a good man, and\nnine-tenths of this work of his is mischievous trifling. The clown at a\ntheatre, the mountebank on the stage, are not so badly employed as\ntheological triflers, who darken counsel by words without knowledge. It\nis not in prayer only, but in preaching and writing, that men should be\nin God's fear, and let their words be few.\n\nMr. Jones preached last night on Christ in you, the hope of glory. I can\nunderstand, 1. How Christ, in the sense of _Christianity_, or the\n_doctrine_ of Christ, can be in us. We sometimes hear from people such\nexpressions as: \"He is full of Plato, or full of Seneca, or full of\nShakespeare,\" when speaking of a man who has got his mind full of the\nsentiments of those writers. And I can understand well enough how\nChristianity, which brings life and immortality to light, should beget\nin men's minds a hope of glory. 2. I can understand how Christ, in the\nsense of Christ's _spirit_, _temper_, _disposition_, _mind_, can be in\nus. We sometimes say of a person who exhibits much of his father's\ndisposition, He has got a deal of his father in him. And I can\nunderstand how Christ in us in this sense should be, or should kindle,\nthe hope of glory. For the mind of Christ is man's fitness for glory.\nThe mind of Christ, and the life to which it prompts, are the things to\nwhich eternal glory is promised. But I couldn't understand Mr. Jones.\nEither he had no ideas on the subject, or he failed to convey them to\nme.\n\n--I see no mystery in John's doctrine that God dwells in those in whom\nlove dwells, for God is love. And I see no mystery in what Peter says\nabout Christians being partakers of the divine nature; for the Divine\nnature is purity, wisdom and love. We share the common human nature and\nthe common animal nature; that is, we have certain qualities or\nproperties in common with men generally, and with the inferior orders of\nliving things. So we share the divine nature, when we have the same\ndispositions, affections, qualities as the divine Being. And the\nproperties of the divine being are purity, knowledge, love.\n\n--I have just been listening to another antinomian sermon. The preacher\ncontended that we are justified and saved solely on account of what\nChrist has done and suffered for us, and that the only thing we have to\ndo, is to believe this, or trust in the merits of Christ, and be at rest\nas to our eternal destiny. But if we are saved _solely_ on account of\nwhat Christ has done and suffered, why talk as if our _believing_ this,\nor _trusting in Christ's_ merits, was necessary to salvation? Why not go\na step further and say, that neither believing nor trusting has anything\nto do with our salvation? But the whole theory is as anti-scriptural and\nfalse as it is foolish and mischievous. The preacher said, \"We are not\nunder the law,--Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law.\" Very\ntrue; but we are under the Gospel; and the Gospel requires a more\nperfect life than the law required. The law of Christ is much stricter\nthan the law of Moses. He said, \"By the works of the law no flesh living\ncan be justified.\" But we may still be justified by the works of the\nGospel. \"Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.\" \"By thy words shalt thou be\njustified, and by thy words shalt thou be condemned.\" \"With what measure\nye mete, it shall be measured to you again.\" \"Blessed are the merciful,\nfor they shall obtain mercy.\" \"Because thou hast been faithful over a\nfew things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into\nthe joy of thy Lord.\" \"Repent and be converted, that your sins may be\nblotted out.\" \"We have confidence in the day of judgment, because as He\nwas so are we in this world.\"\n\nHe said circumcision availeth nothing; and it is true that \"the\ncircumcision which is outward in the flesh\" avails nothing under the\nChristian dispensation: but that which is inward, namely, the putting\naway of all filthiness, and living a holy life, availeth much.\n\nThen followed a lot of unscriptural and unwise talk about our own\nrighteousness and Christ's righteousness. But the truth is, when we love\nGod and keep His commandments,--when we love Christ and do as He bids\nus, and believe, in consequence, that we are approved of God, and in a\nfair way for heaven, we trust in _God's_ righteousness, or _Christ's_\nrighteousness, and not in a righteousness of our own. The righteousness\nof God means the righteousness which God _requires_; the righteousness\nof _Christ_ means obedience to His precepts, and conformity to His mind\nand character. True, if I obey the Gospel, my obedience is my own, but\nthe _law_, or the righteousness _prescribed_, is Christ's. It is when\nmen make a law of their own,--when they set aside God's law, and put\nsome other law in its place, and expect God's blessing in consequence of\nobeying that, that they trust in their _own_ righteousness. And in all\nsuch cases men's own righteousness, in God's sight, is \"as filthy rags.\"\nBut hearty, loving obedience to God's _own_ law is never regarded by Him\n\"as filthy rags,\" but as a rich adorning. Real Christian goodness is, in\nthe sight of God, \"of great price.\"\n\n     \"Than gold or pearls more precious far,\n     And brighter than the morning star.\"\n\nChristian obedience is a sacrifice with which God is well pleased: \"To\ndo good and to communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God is\nwell pleased.\" He alone trusts in the righteousness of Christ who hears\nChrist's words and does them,--who cultivates Christ's mind, and lives\nas Christ lived, and who, in doing so, expects, according to Christ's\npromise, God's blessing and eternal life. The idea that God looks on any\npersons as having lived like Christ when they have not done so; or that\nHe supposes any persons to be righteous, or treats them as righteous,\nwhen they are not so, is foolish and anti-scriptural in the extreme. And\nit is unmethodistical too. Yet here is a Methodist preacher so-called,\ndealing out this mischievous and miserable folly. And alas he is not\nalone. And these are the men who abuse others as heretics.\n\n--The good done where preachers preach theology is not done by the\npreaching, I fancy, but by stray truth from the Gospels, and by the\nChristian lives and Christian labors of simple-minded, Bible-loving,\nnon-theological members of the church. God bless them!\n\n--Wesley has thirty definitions of religion, and they all mean, in\nsubstance, loving God and loving man, and living to do good. Wesley was\nalways sensible in proportion as he got away from under the influence of\nthe prevailing Theology.\n\n--Some talk as if a religious education can never be the means of a\nchild's conversion,--that, do for your children what you will, they will\nstill, like others, require a distinct and full conversion when they\ncome of age. I cannot see why a good Christian mother talking to her\nchild from her old arm-chair, and praying with it as it kneels by her\nside, or the good example and godly training of a pious father, may not\nbe made as effectual to the gradual conversion of a child as the\npreaching of a pastor from the pulpit. Nor can I see why a gradual\nelevation of a child to the higher spiritual life should not be as\npossible and as probable as the sudden elevation of a hardened and\ninveterate sinner. 'You cannot give your children grace,' it is said:\nbut it is easy to answer, 'GOD can give children grace through\nthe medium of Christian parents, as well as through public preachers and\nteachers.' I encourage people to bring up their children in Christian\nknowledge and goodness, by telling them that God may be expected to\nbless their labors to the sanctification and salvation of their children\nfrom their early days. Baxter used to thank God that he was led by his\ngood parents to love God so early that he could not recollect a time\nwhen he did not love Him.\n\n--Churches exist in this world to remind us of the eternal laws which we\nare bound to obey. So far as they do this, they answer their end, and\nare honored in doing so. It would have been better for all of us--it\nwould be better for us now, could churches keep this their peculiar\nfunction steadily and singly before them. Unfortunately, they have\npreferred in later times the speculative side of things to the\npractical.\n\n--There is a tendency in men to corrupt religion; to change it from an\naid and incentive to a holy life, into a contrivance to enable men to\nsin without fear of punishment. Obedience to God's law is dispensed\nwith, if men will diligently profess certain opinions, or practically\ntake part in certain rites. However scandalous the moral life, the\nprofession of a particular belief, or attention to certain forms, at the\nmoment of death, is held to clear the soul.\n\n--It would be easy to give a hundred instances of doctrines to be heard\nin sermons and found in religious books, which are nowhere taught in\nScripture. And some of them exert a mighty influence for evil on the\nchurch and the world. They check the spread of Christianity. They\nstrengthen the cause of infidelity. They keep people away from Christ.\nThey make an all but impassable gulf between the church and the mass of\nhumanity.\n\n--Some think they would not have enough to talk about if they were to\ngive up all the doctrines or notions for which I say there is no\nscriptural authority. One preacher told me I had already spoiled some of\nhis best sermons. He said he had never been able to preach them with\ncomfort since he began to listen to my conversation. The truth is,\npreachers will never know what great, good things there are to be talked\nabout, till they get rid of their foolish fancies. Nor will they know\nthe true pleasure of talking till they come to feel that their\nutterances are the words of eternal truth. And so far will they be from\nnot having enough to talk about, that if they give themselves in a\nChristian spirit, to study the truth as it is in Jesus, they will never\nhave time to utter a tenth of the blessed things that will present\nthemselves to their minds.\n\nA hundred years would not afford me time enough to say all that I get\nglimpses of on religious subjects as presented in nature and in the\nScriptures. Every subject I take in hand requires ten times more time to\ndo it justice than is generally allowed for a sermon. And the subjects\nare numberless. We live in an infinite universe of truth.\n\n\"I rejoice,\" says one, \"that I have been led, in the course of God's\nprovidence, to do so much as I have done, towards purging revelation\nfrom those doctrines and practices which were discordant with its\nteachings, and prevented its reception with many.\"\n\nShall I ever be able to do anything in this way? God help me. If I could\nmake the Church and the ministry more Christ-like, and more powerful for\ngood, what a blessing it would be. What a world of work wants doing,\nboth in the church and in the world. Save me from an impatient,\npugnacious, disagreeable spirit. Perhaps I see the needs of others more\nthan I feel my own. Perhaps I am in danger of being more eager for\nreform in others, than for a thoroughly Christian spirit and behavior in\nmyself.\n\nHow many words and phrases one hears in sermons and in prayers, and what\nheaps of expressions one meets with in religious works, that are not\nwarranted by Scripture or common sense!\n\n--Some of the words and phrases that are more frequently used by\nChristians than any other, are unscriptural ones. Some of them express\nunscriptural ideas. Some of them are names of things that have no\nexistence. Both the words and the ideas for which they stand are\nanti-christian. Many of the things said from the pulpit are\nunintelligible. The people strain their minds to get at a meaning, but\nto no purpose. It is Latin or Greek to them. They listen, but do not\nlearn. They hear sounds, but catch no sense. They reverence, they\nworship, but they do not understand. They believe, they feel, that there\nare great spiritual realities, but they are not made clear to their\nminds. The devouter portion of the people still pray, and on the whole,\nlive sober, righteous and godly lives; but multitudes are discouraged,\nand take themselves away.\n\n     \"The hungry sheep look up and are not fed.\"\n\nThey hear words, but get no ideas. Religion does not come to them from\nthe pulpit as a reality. It does not make itself felt as truth. Books\nand lecturers on science treat of realities, and treat of them in words\nthat can be understood; but many books on religion, and many preachers,\nseem to deal only in words. And the consequence is, many fancy religion\nis a delusion, a fanaticism, a dream. Others believe there is something\nin it, but they cannot conceive what it is. Yet teachers and preachers\nappear not properly to understand why so many get weary of sermons and\nreligious books. Let them talk in plain good English, and say nothing\nbut what has some great Christian reality under it, and sermons and\nreligious books will be the most popular things on earth.\n\n--I would never sacrifice Christian truth to conciliate the world; but I\nwould sacrifice everything at variance with Christian truth; and I would\npresent Christian truth itself in as intelligible and taking a form as\npossible.\n\n--The antinomian theology has had a terribly corrupting effect on many\nmembers of churches. I meet proofs of it every day. God help me to do my\nduty. Some of my hearers say to me, 'We come to church to be comforted,\nand not to be continually told to do, do, do.' I do not wish people to\nbe comforted unless they will do their duty; and they will never _lack_\ncomfort if they _do_ do it. Comfort is for those who labor to comfort\nand benefit others, and not for those who care only for themselves. I\ntry to make the easy-going, indolent and selfish professors miserable:\nand in some cases I succeed. But I make others happy, thank God, by\ninducing them to give themselves heartily to Christian work.\n\n--Here are a few more good words from Baxter: 'Many proclaim the praise\nof truth in general, but reject and persecute its various portions. The\n_name_ of truth they honor, but the truth itself they despise.'\n\n'Passion is a great seducer of the understanding, and strangely blindeth\nand perverteth the judgment.'\n\n'When passion hath done boiling and the heart is cooled, and leaveth the\njudgment to do its work without clamor and disturbance, it is strange to\nsee how things will appear to you to be quite of another tendency than\nin your frenzy you esteemed them.'\n\n'Be more studious to hold and improve those common truths which all\nprofess, than to oppose the particular opinions of any, except so far as\nthose common truths require you to do so.'\n\n'Be not borne down by the censoriousness of any, to outrun your own\nunderstanding and the truth, and to comply with them in their errors and\nextremes; but hold to the truth and keep your station. 'Let them return\nunto thee, but return not thou unto them.' Jer. xv. 19.'\n\n'Believe nothing that contradicteth the end of all religion. If its\ntendency be against a holy life, it cannot be truth.'\n\n'Plead not the darker texts of Scripture against those that are more\nplain and clear, nor a few texts against many that are as plain. That\npassage that is interpreted against the most plain and frequent\nexpressions of the Scriptures is certainly misinterpreted.'\n\nI will carry out these principles to the best of my ability.\n\n--I notice that Christ never tells people that they cannot repent and do\nGod's will without divine help. He did not think it necessary to supply\npeople with excuses for their neglect of duty. And He knew that divine\nhelp is never withheld from any man. All _have_ the help needed to do\nwhat God requires. There is no danger of any man trying to do anything\ngood before he receives power from God. God is always beforehand with\nmen.\n\n--I have had a troubled night. I have not slept soundly for a week. I\nhave had odd hours of sleep, but never a quarter of a night's unbroken\nrest. Parties will talk with me about religion, and I am foolish enough\nto talk with them, yet we never quite agree. They insist on the\nsacredness of every old notion and of every old word they have received\nfrom their teachers, and I believe in the sacredness of nothing but\nScripture truth and common sense. They cannot understand me, and I\ncannot accept their nonsense. And they have no idea of liberty or\ntoleration. They allow no excuse for not being sound in the faith, and\nno one is sound in the faith according to their notions but those who\nagree with them. They know nothing of the foundation on which the\nConnexion was built. They know nothing of Wesley: nothing, at least, of\nhis liberal views. The fundamental principles of the Connexion justify\nme in my freedom of investigation, and in the sentiments which I hold\nand teach; but they do not know this. They know nothing but that every\none is to think as they think, and talk as they talk. Hence they keep me\non the rack.\n\nI am tired. I feel sad. I could weep. I feel as if I could like to run\naway, like Elijah, and hide myself in the wilds of some great mountain.\nBut no; I must stand my ground, and do my duty. Shall truth be timid,\nand error bold? Shall folly rage and be confident, and wisdom be afraid\nto whisper? Help me, O God, to do my duty as Thy servant, and as the\nminister of Thy Gospel.\n\n--There are some verses of hymns that are sung in almost all religious\nassemblies that have nothing answering to them in Scripture. John Wesley\nonce said, that the hymns which were the greatest favorites among the\nMethodists were the worst in the whole Hymn Book. It is the same still I\nfear, to some extent. Let those who would like to know to what words and\nhymns we refer, take themselves to task for a time, and demand\nScriptural authority for every word and expression they utter. We would\nsave them the trouble, were it not that we have learned that instruction\nfrom others is of no use to people who do not endeavor to teach\nthemselves.\n\nBut take a sample or two. I cannot sing the following:\n\n     \"Forbid it Lord that I should boast\n       Save in the death of Christ my God.\"\n\n     \"The immortal God hath died for me,\" &c.\n\nJesus died, and God dwelt in Jesus, but God did not die. Great\nallowances are made to poets; but they should not be encouraged to write\nimpossibilities.\n\n     \"A heart that always feels Thy blood,\" &c.\n\nI feel thankful for the love which led Jesus to die for me; but I cannot\nsay I feel the blood. I feel the happy effects of the death or\nblood-shedding of Jesus; and perhaps that is what the poet means.\n\n     \"When from the dust of death I rise,\n     To claim my mansion in the skies,\n     Even then this shall be all my plea,\n     Jesus hath lived and died for me.\"\n\nThis is not scriptural. The good servant in the parable of the talents\nsays: \"Lord, Thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have\ngained besides them five talents more.\" And so far was his Lord from\nfinding fault with his plea, that he answered, \"Well done, good and\nfaithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make\nthee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.\" And\nwhy may not other faithful servants use the same plea?\n\nJohn makes perfect love, or likeness to Jesus, the ground of confidence\nor boldness in the day of judgment. How strange that Christian writers\nshould be so ignorant of the Bible, or so regardless of its teachings.\nSome of them seem to think they are saying very fine things when they\nare talking their anti-Christian nonsense. Help me, O God, to speak and\nact in accordance with Thy word.\n\nFine writing may be a fine thing, but true writing is a finer.\n\nI suppose it is as hard for theologians to give up their anti-Christian\nwords and notions as it is for drunkards to give up their drink. But it\nwould be well for them to consider, that self-denial may be as necessary\nto _their_ salvation, as it is to the salvation of infidels and\nprofligates.\n\nI would sacrifice a little poetry to truth. I would not be very\nparticular, but do let us have substantial truth. Do not let us encumber\nand disfigure religion by absurdities, impossibilities, and antinomian\nabominations.\n\nSome one has said, \"The world is very jealous of those who assail its\nreligious ignorance. Its old mistakes are great idols. No man has ever\ncarried a people one march nearer the promised land without being in\ndanger of being stoned. No man has ever purified the life of an age,\nwithout substantially laying down his own.\"\n\nI am anxious only for truth and righteousness. Truth and righteousness I\nrespect in all sects, from the Quakers to the Catholics; and I hate\nnonsense, and lies, and sin, in professing Christians, as much as in\nTurks and pagans.\n\nSo end the extracts from my Diary.\n\nI have just been reading an article in the _Christian Advocate_, and I\ncan't resist the temptation to give a short extract or two.\n\n\"Not only is there an emasculated theology, but there is not a little\nemasculated preaching.\n\n\"Nothing is emptier or feebler than cant--ringing the changes on what\nmay be called the stock phrases of one's sect. John Wesley once said,\n'Let but a pert, self-sufficient animal, that has neither sense nor\ngrace, bawl out something about 'Christ,' or 'His blood,' or\n'justification by faith,' and there are not wanting those who will cry\nout, 'What a fine Gospel sermon!' For myself, I prefer a sermon on\neither good tempers or good works to such 'Gospel sermons.'\n\n\"Take away from certain preachers their 'heavenly tone,' as the old lady\ncalled it--their sing-song cadences, and their favorite pulpit\nphrases--and you take away the principal part of their stock in trade.\nOut upon such 'words without knowledge'--sound without sense!\n\n\"Quite as destitute of Gospel power is that preaching which consists\nlargely in the presentation of old worn-out theories, musty scholastic\nphilosophies about religion, usually paraded under the pretentious title\nof 'doctrine.'\n\n\"The devil, it is said, once inspired a dead priest to preach an\northodox sermon. On being questioned by his imps why he ventured on such\na deliverance, he replied very significantly, that nothing made infidels\nmore effectually than orthodoxy preached by dead men's lips.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nTHE REFORMING TENDENCY.\n\n\nI had a third tendency which helped to get me into trouble; namely, a\nreforming tendency. Earnest and active-minded young men are generally\nreformers. In me the reforming tendency was unusually strong. I wanted\nto reform everybody and everything, and to do it thoroughly, and without\ndelay. And I commenced operations very early.\n\n1. It was the custom of my class-leader to read over to his class once a\nquarter the rules of society, and to request the members, if they were\naware of any breach of any of the rules by any of the members, to name\nthe matter as he proceeded. Now one of the rules forbade the putting on\nof gold or costly apparel; yet several of the members of our class put\non both. So when he came to that rule, I asked why it was not enforced.\nThe leader seemed confused. One of the offenders was the wife of one of\nthe travelling preachers, and another was the wife of an influential\nlayman, and both were customers at his store, and he had never\nentertained a thought, I imagine, of running the risk of offending them\nby rebuking them for their offences; so he muttered something in the way\nof excuse and then passed on. The truth was, that the rule, though\ncopied from the New Testament, and regarded by Mr. Wesley as of great\nimportance, was no longer considered binding either by the preachers or\nthe leading members. The reading of the rules in the class was merely a\nform, and my remarks, instead of inducing my offending class-mates to\nreturn to the old Methodist custom, only caused them and those who sided\nwith them, to look on me as a troubler of Israel.\n\n2. I got myself into a little trouble on a later occasion at a local\npreachers' meeting. It was the custom at those meetings for the\nsuperintendent preacher to read over the names of the local preachers,\nand to request any brother who knew of any breach of rule by any of his\nbrethren, to name the matter. When the name of Mr. H. was read over, I\nstated that he had been guilty of evil speaking against one of his\nbrethren. I gave the particulars, and the offence was acknowledged, but\nthe offending brother was not without excuse, and the business of the\nmeeting proceeded. But there was a very strong feeling in the minds of\nmany that such attempts as I was making to press neglected rules on the\nattention of the meeting, ought not to be encouraged; and my endeavors\nto enforce consistency brought down upon me many sharp rebukes.\n\n3. Among the books that I read in those early days was _Mason on\nSelf-knowledge_. I found some excellent remarks on temperance and\nfrugality in this work. I met with some similar remarks in translating\nportions of the writings of Seneca and Cicero. In a conversation that I\nhad with one of the travelling preachers, and a person that was\nsupplying the place of another travelling preacher, I quoted the\nbeautiful sentiments which I had been reading and translating, and added\nsome remarks of my own, with a view to recommend attention to the\nlessons they inculcated. The travelling preacher remained silent, but\nhis companion answered me with a scornful laugh, and said, there was no\nneed to urge such matters on them, for they had not the _means_ to be\nanything else but frugal and temperate. This was neither true nor\ncourteous, and though I made no answer, it left an impression on my mind\nby no means favorable to the wisdom and piety of those who, at that\ntime, were placed over me as my teachers and guides.\n\n4. Though I met with such poor encouragement in my early efforts to\nreform or check abuses among my brethren, I still persisted in my\ncourse, even after I became a travelling preacher. It was the custom of\nthe richer members of society to have large parties, to which they\ninvited each other and the preachers and their families. At many of\nthese parties there was a good deal of drinking, and a serious waste of\nmoney on many things that were not only useless but injurious. And each\nfamily tried to outdo the rest in the costliness of their parties. I\nregarded this custom as anti-Christian, and tried to get it changed for\nsomething better. I thought the money wasted on drink and hurtful\nluxuries would be better spent in doing good. In some cases I referred\nto the words of Christ about making feasts, recorded in Luke xiv. 12-14;\nbut no one seemed to think Christ's rule to be binding on professing\nChristians now. Even my brother ministers thought me needlessly\nparticular, and helped to render my efforts for reform both\nunsuccessful, and productive of disagreeable results.\n\n5. The custom of treating the rich who came to our chapels with more\nrespect than the poor, was as prevalent probably when I became a\nminister, as it was in the days of James. I often saw the officials of\nthe church conducting gaily-dressed people to comfortable pews, while\nthey left such as were poorly clad to stand in the aisles, or to find\ntheir way into seats themselves; and on some occasions I showed my\ndissatisfaction with such proceedings.\n\n6. It was customary to have society meetings in each place once a\nquarter, and at these meetings I used to refer to what I thought amiss\nin the conduct of professors, and to urge attention to such lessons of\nChrist and His Apostles as seemed to be generally overlooked or\nforgotten. On some occasions too on week nights, instead of preaching a\nregular sermon, I used to give a kind of lecture or exhortation, in\nwhich I presented a summary of neglected duties, and read over the\npassages of Scripture in which they were enjoined, making remarks on\nthem. There were many matters pertaining to marriage, to the education\nand government of children, and to domestic duties generally; and there\nwere matters pertaining to trade, to social intercourse, to mental\nimprovement, and the like, on which preachers, as a rule, were entirely\nsilent in their sermons, from the beginning of the year to the end. Yet\nmany of these matters were of the utmost importance, and for want of\ninformation on them many religious people were neither so happy\nthemselves, nor so useful to others, as they ought to be. On these\nmatters I spoke in as plain and faithful a way as possible. I cautioned\nthe young against wasting their time, advised them to spend their\nleisure hours in reading and writing, told them what books to read, and\nhow to read them, showed them the most profitable plan of reading the\nBible, warned them against bad company, and advised them not to spend\ntoo much time even in good company. I urged them, if they thought of\nbeing preachers, to endeavor to be preachers of the highest order,\nworkmen that needed not to be ashamed, rightly distributing the word of\ntruth. And whether they thought of being preachers or not, I urged them\nto improve their talents, and to become as wise, as able and as useful\nas possible. Many were delighted, and reduced my lessons to practice.\nOthers however took offence, and repaid my endeavors to do them good\nwith uncharitable censures.\n\n7. It was the custom in the Body to which I belonged to keep the doors\nof the annual conference closed against all but those who were sent as\ndelegates by the circuits. I and a few others thought this course led to\ninconsiderate, and, in some cases, to unjust and oppressive measures,\nand in 1835 I wrote a letter on the subject to the _Christian Advocate_.\nMy remarks were not agreeable to the leading members of conference, and\nI was instantly called to account and severely censured, and threatened\nwith the heaviest punishment if ever I offended so grievously again. The\nreason why my letter proved so offensive was probably its truthfulness,\nfor the change I recommended was afterwards adopted, though not till the\nold objectionable system had produced most disastrous consequences.\n\n8. One rule of the Connexion to which I belonged forbade the preachers\nto marry till after they had been engaged in the ministry from four to\nfive years or upwards. This regulation seemed to me to be the cause of\nserious evils. Some of these evils I had myself experienced, and others\nI had seen in the conduct and mishaps of many of my brethren. The reason\nassigned for the law seemed to me to be not only insufficient, but to be\na disgrace to a body of Christians situated as _we_ were. I urged an\nalteration or a repeal of the law, recommending conference to take out\nthe best and ablest men as ministers, whether they were married or not,\nand to allow such ministers as were single to marry whenever they\nthought fit, and to urge the churches to provide for the additional\nexpense of married preachers by a little additional liberality. There\nwere members that wasted as much on one foolish and mischievous party,\nas would have made up the difference between a single man's salary and a\nmarried man's salary. There were members that spent as much in\nintoxicating drinks as would have kept a married preacher or two out and\nout. There were tradesmen that could have supported five or six\npreachers out of their yearly profits, if they had been as liberal as\nthe old selfish Jews were required to be. If they had been as liberal as\n_Christians_ are required to be,--if they had loved their neighbors, or\nJesus, or God, as they loved themselves, they could have supported\ntwenty preachers, and still retained enough to keep their families in\ncomfort and plenty, and to carry on and extend their businesses too. To\nshut good men out of the ministry because they were married, and take in\ndoubtful men because they were single, was, in my view, disgraceful and\ninexcusable. But in this also I was considered wrong by the rulers of\nthe Connexion, and was once more censured and admonished for what was\nconsidered my presumptuous interference.\n\n9. Fifty years ago, and for some years after, almost everybody used to\ndrink intoxicating drinks. Ale and beer, wine and spirits, were as\nfreely used as tea and coffee, and were taken in great quantities by\nmany even in the church and ministry. I remember once, while yet a local\npreacher, going round with Mr. Etchells, a new minister in my native\ntown, on his first pastoral visits, to show him where the principal\nmembers of the church lived. He was invited to drink at every house, and\nnever failed to comply with the invitations. I saw him drink sixteen\nglasses of beer, wine and spirits, on that one round, occupying only two\nor three hours. This same minister prosecuted Mr. Farrar, his\nsuperintendent, for drunkenness, and got him suspended. Whether his\nsuperintendent drank more than he or not, I do not know, but he did not\nkeep up appearances so well. He showed himself drunk in the pulpit,--so\ndrunk, on one or two occasions, that he was unable to speak plainly, or\neven to stand steadily. He also fell down in the streets sometimes, and\nhad to be carried home. His colleague did not commit himself in such\nways, though he drank enough at times in one day to make half a dozen\nsober people drunk.\n\nThe leading member in the Methodist church, Richard Wilson, opened the\nfirst wine and spirit store at Bramley, and corrupted the whole country\nround with his wares, doing far more for the devil and sin than the\npreachers could do for God and holiness. Yet no one seemed to think\nthere was anything dishonorable or diabolical in the business.\n\nAt a social party to which I was invited at Leeds, consisting of\npreachers and leading members of the church, one man, a preacher, got so\ndrunk, that he became a most distressing spectacle. I cannot describe\nhis mishaps. There were others who ought to have committed themselves in\nthe same sad way, for they drank as much, and even more, but they had\nstronger constitutions, or were better seasoned.\n\nAt Liverpool, my first station, every one on whom the preachers called\nin their pastoral rounds, asked them to drink. Even Dr. Raffles, the\npopular Congregational minister, had wine and cakes brought out, when I\nand my superintendent called on him one morning. Wine and cakes, or\ncakes and spirits, were placed on the table by all who were not too poor\nto buy such things, and even the poorer members contrived to supply\nthemselves with rum or whisky. And all expected the preachers to drink.\nAnd the preachers did drink. Mr. Allin, my superintendent, was not by\nfar the greatest drinker in the Connexion, yet he seldom allowed the\npoison placed before him to remain untasted. I was so organized, that I\nnever could drink a full glass of either wine or ale without feeling\nmore or less intoxicated, and for spirits I had quite a distaste; so\nthat I was obliged to take intoxicating drinks very sparingly. Yet I\nconformed, to some extent, to the prevailing custom; and it was not, I\nfear, through any great goodness of my own, that I did not become a\ndrunkard. Several of my fellow-ministers became drunkards. Mr. Allin\nhimself, after he fell under the influence of that bad rich man at\nSheffield became a drunkard, and brought on shocks of paralysis by his\nexcesses. My superintendent at Sheffield drank himself into _delirium\ntremens_, and I fear he never got over his bad habits. Mr. Chapman was a\nnotorious sot. I knew him personally, and was compelled, at times, to\nwitness his disgusting habits. Yet he was never expelled, though he was\nsuperannuated some forty years or more before his death. His\nsuperannuation reduced his income some seventy-five per cent., and made\nit impossible for him to drink so freely as he had been wont, and so,\nvery probably, helped to prolong his miserable life.\n\nWhile stationed at Liverpool, I was called away to supply the place of\nthe superintendent preacher in the Chester circuit for a few weeks, who\nhad died very suddenly, under very peculiar circumstances. His name was\nDunkerley. I was told by persons likely to know the truth, that he was a\nvery drunken man. On one occasion, while he was over at Liverpool, he\nfell down in the Theatre Square, and had to be taken up and carried into\na neighboring shop. At first it was supposed he had had a fit; but a\nlittle further attention to the case revealed the secret that he was\ndrunk. On another occasion, on his return from Liverpool to Chester, he\nwas observed, when he got off the coach, to stagger backwards and fall\ndown. Some friends that were waiting for his arrival, ran and helped him\nup, and took him to a member's house just by. He was found to be drunk\nthen also. The members spoke to him on the subject, and reproved him\nsharply, and then put him to bed. The Tuesday night following, the\nmatter was mentioned at the leaders' meeting, when he was present. The\nleaders told him that such conduct could not be tolerated, and that\nunless a change took place for the better, the matter would have to be\nlaid before the Quarterly Meeting. The preacher acknowledged his fault,\nand promised, if they would forgive him that once, that he would do so\nno more. I believe that from that time he gave up the use of\nintoxicating drinks for a week or two; but shortly after, having to go\nto the Welsh side of the Circuit, he began to use them again. At one of\nthe places on that side of the Circuit, the leaders were accustomed to\nhave their meetings in a room in a public-house, near the Chapel, and to\nlodge the preacher there. Perhaps poor Dunkerley thought it would hardly\nlook right for him to be accommodated at a public-house with a bed, and\nyet take nothing to drink; so he got some gin. The relish for the gin\nmust have returned upon him with great power when he began to taste it,\nfor he drank very freely. He drank so much, that the publican himself\nbegan to feel alarmed for him. A short time after he had gone up stairs\nto bed, the people of the house heard a noise of an unusual character in\nhis room, and on going to see what was the matter, they found the\npreacher on his knees, in an apoplectic fit, the blood gushing from his\nnose and ears. He died the same evening. He died drunk.\n\nIt was this man's place that I went to supply. I do not wonder now that\nDunkerley and several other preachers in the New Connexion were\ndrunkards, when I take into consideration the customs and habits of the\npeople of the Connexion in those days. I never met with anything in any\nsociety, that I recollect, more at variance with the principles of\nChristian temperance, and more likely to lead both preachers and people\ninto drunkenness and profligacy, than the habits and customs of many of\nthe members of the New Connexion in the Chester circuit. In the first\nplace they were all users of intoxicating drinks, and all those that\nwere in tolerable circumstances regularly kept spirits as well as\nmilder, weaker kinds of intoxicating drinks in their houses. In the next\nplace a preacher could never call at the houses of those people,\nwhatever the time of day, without being urged to drink of either the\nstronger or weaker kinds of intoxicating drinks. And he could hardly\nrefuse to drink without seeming to slight the kindness of the people,\nand running the risk of giving offence. In the third place they were\nvery much addicted to extravagant social parties, pleasure jaunts, &c.\nThey were worse than the people of Leeds in this respect; unless they\nwere worse than usual while I was there. All the time that I was in\nChester, there was not a single week or day when they had not either\nsome dinner-party or tea-party, or both, or else some pleasure jaunt on\nthe water or on land. And those pleasure parties and feasts were always\noccasions of extravagant eating and drinking. Besides abundance of flesh\nand game, and other luxuries, there was always an overwhelming supply of\nintoxicating drinks, and great quantities were consumed. I have seen men\non those occasions drink five, six, eight, or even ten glasses of wine\nor spirits, besides drinking ale, or porter, or wine at meals. I\nrecollect very distinctly seeing a person, and that a preacher, drink,\nin addition to what he consumed over his meal, ten glasses of Port wine\nbetween dinner and tea, after which he went to preach.\n\nReligious society was not quite so corrupt in the principal towns of the\nHanley circuit, where I was next stationed, as at Liverpool and Chester,\nyet there was a fearful amount of respectable intemperance there. There\nwas no end to the feasting. And as I, though so young, was very popular,\nI was always expected to be present. The luxuries in which I indulged\nbrought on indigestion. Indigestion, and close study, and hard work in\nthe pulpit, brought on a most wearisome languor and depression. To help\nme, one rich friend sent me a bottle of Sherry wine. Another sent me\nElderberry wine. These made me worse. It was well this mistaken kindness\ndid not ruin me. But I was preserved, thank God, both from death and\ndrunkenness.\n\nFor two years more I was in the midst of these awful temptations to\nintemperance, and a witness to their deadly effects on several of my\nbrethren. I felt that I was in danger. And I saw that the church was\nsuffering. I looked round for a remedy.\n\nJust then there came rumors of a temperance society, and of attempts at\na temperance reformation. One of our young preachers had joined this\nnew society, and had labelled his whisky and brandy _medicine_. He left\nhis beer, and porter, and wine, unlabelled, and drank them as freely as\nbefore. The people who told me of this, ridiculed the man, and ridiculed\nthe movement for temperance reform. I was rather pleased with the news,\nthough news of a more thorough movement might have pleased me better.\nBut the beginnings of things are small. The movement soon became radical\nenough, and I kept pace with it.\n\nIn 1832 I gave up the use of ardent spirits, and became a member of the\nold-fashioned temperance society. In 1833 I gave up the use of\nintoxicating drinks of all kinds, and joined the teetotal society. In\n1834 I gave up the use of tobacco. A few months later I gave up tea and\ncoffee, and took water as my usual drink.\n\nThese changes in my way of life gave great offence to many in the church\nto which I belonged, and led them to speak of me, and act towards me, in\na way that was anything but kind and agreeable. This was especially the\ncase with regard to my disuse of intoxicating drinks, and my advocacy of\nteetotalism. I might have been borne with perhaps if I had become a\ndrunkard; for drunkards were in some cases tolerated; but a teetotaler\nwas not to be endured. Some called me a fool, and some a madman, and one\nman pronounced me no better than a suicide and a murderer. \"You will be\ndead,\" said he, \"in twelve months, if you persist in your miserable\ncourse, and what will become of your wife and children? And what account\ncan you give of the people you are leading to untimely death by your\nexample?\" One person at Chester, at whose house I had visited some years\nbefore, when supplying the place of the deceased minister, would neither\ninvite me to his house, nor speak to me in the street, except in the way\nof insult, now that I had become a teetotaler. He said no one should\never sit at his table who would not take a glass of wine. And I never\ndid sit at his table after. He invited my colleagues, and he invited the\nold superannuated minister, whose character I cannot describe, but he\nnever invited me.\n\nOne object that I had in view in adopting my abstemious way of life was\nto save a little money to buy books. I had become an author too, and\nhad thoughts of publishing a number of works, and I wanted to be able to\ndo so without having to go into debt. Then I wanted to do good in other\nways. I liked to be able to give a little to the distressed and needy\nthat I was called upon to visit. And I liked to subscribe occasionally\nto funds for the erection of new schools and chapels in circuits where I\nwas stationed. Among my reasons for becoming a teetotaler was a desire\nto induce others to do so, who seemed to me to be likely, if they\ncontinued to use intoxicating drinks, to become drunkards. Then I had\nseen the terrible effects of the drinking system, both in the Church and\namong my relations. And I was anxious for the success of every kind of\nmeasure that seemed likely to promote the reformation and salvation of\nmankind.\n\n10. I had not been a teetotaler long before I became anxious to see my\nbrethren in the ministry teetotalers. I wrote a letter to the\n_Temperance Advocate_, giving an account of the experiment I had made,\nand stating the happy results by which it had been followed, and urging\nothers, by all the considerations that had influenced my own mind, to\nadopt and advocate the teetotal principle. Mr. Livesey sent a copy of\nthe _Advocate_ containing my letter to all the ministers of the Body to\nwhich I belonged. There were but few of them however who seemed to be\nable to enter into my views and feelings, or to understand and\nappreciate the motives by which I was actuated. The generality looked on\nthe course I had taken as a proof of a restless and ill-regulated mind,\nand instead of following my example, treated me and my teetotalism with\nridicule. Some were angry, and scolded me in right good earnest. They\nsupposed that it was _I_ that had sent them the Paper containing my\nletter, and seemed to think themselves called upon to resent my\ninterference with their tastes and habits in a very decided manner.\nSeveral of them sent me very offensive letters, and one of them\nconcluded a long outpouring of abuse and insolence with some very\ncutting but just remarks on my inconsistency in pressing abstinence from\nintoxicating drinks so earnestly on others, while I myself was guilty of\nthe unreasonable and offensive practice of smoking tobacco.\n\nI had long had misgivings as to the propriety of smoking, and when I\nread this cutting rebuke, I resolved to smoke no more. I said to my\nwife, \"They shall not be able to charge me with inconsistency again on\nthat score,\" and I there and then broke my pipe on the grate, and\nemptied my tobacco cup into the fire, and I have never annoyed others,\nor defiled myself, with the abomination of tobacco smoke or tobacco\nspittle from that day to this. My angry correspondent had done me an\nimportant service.\n\n11. I met with some of the bitterest and most persistent enemies of\nteetotalism in the circuit in which I was then travelling. There were\nseveral members of society, class-leaders, and local preachers, in and\naround Chester, who were slaves to intoxicating drinks. Some of them\nwere habitual drunkards, and others of them were not much better; and\nthey treated all who would not countenance their excesses as personal\nenemies. Many of them were accustomed to go to public houses, and sit\nthere drinking and smoking for hours together, like ordinary drunkards.\nThis horrible habit they gave up shortly after my appointment to the\ncircuit, but several of them raged against me with tremendous fury, and\nwould have done anything to destroy my influence. At first they were\nkept in check to some extent by the wisdom and goodness of my\nsuperintendent, who, though he did not become a teetotaler himself,\nshowed great respect for those who did. When he left Chester, a man of a\nvery different character came in his place, who sided with the drinkers,\nand took a savage delight in annoying the teetotalers, and exulted as if\nhe had achieved some wonder of benevolence and piety when he had induced\nsome poor reformed drunkard to break his pledge, though he plunged again\ninto the horrors of intemperance. I called one forenoon on Mr. Downs. He\nwas frantic, and his wife was wild with anxiety and terror. She seemed\nas if she had been awake and weeping all the night. I soon saw the cause\nof the dreadful spectacle. Downs had been a drunkard, but had, under my\ninfluence, become a teetotaler, and joined the church. His wife had been\na member of the church for some years. She was overjoyed with the\nreformation and conversion of her husband, and was promising for herself\nand her husband, for the future, a very happy life. My superintendent\nhad got poor Downs into his company, and by reasoning, ridicule, and\ncoaxing, had induced him to take a glass of ale. His horrible appetite\nfor intoxicating drink returned with irresistible force, and he drank\nhimself drunk. He went home in a very deplorable condition. His wife,\ndistressed beyond measure, got him to bed, and he fell asleep, and she,\npoor woman, sat watching him, and weeping, hoping he might wake to\nlament his error and become again a sober man. He awoke in a fury, and\nattempted to destroy himself. He was mad with shame and horror, and\ndeclared he could not and would not live. When I entered, his wife had\nbeen watching him and struggling with him for several hours, to keep him\nfrom suicide. I just got in in time to save the man, and relieve his\nexhausted wife, and I was enabled to reconcile the man to live a little\nlonger, and try teetotalism again. My misguided superintendent never\nattempted to reason with me, but when he thought he had a chance of\npunishing me for my teetotalism, he snatched at the apparent opportunity\nwith the greatest eagerness.\n\nOne week night, when appointed to preach in Chester Chapel, I gave the\npeople a sermon on temperance. Some days after, I was summoned to a\nmeeting of officials, to give an account of my doings. I attended. My\nsuperintendent, the bitter enemy of teetotalism, was in the chair, and\non each side of him sat a number of men of similar feelings, and of\ngrosser habits. I was told there was a complaint against me, to the\neffect that the last time I was at Chester I had preached teetotalism\ninstead of the Gospel. I said, \"Is that all?\" And they answered \"Yes.\"\n\"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourselves,\" I said, and left the\nmeeting. What they did after my departure I was never told.\n\nOne man in that neighborhood circulated a report that I had asked my\nmother-in-law, who had been staying some time at our house, to have a\nglass of brandy and water, when she was leaving for home in the coach.\nThis slander was refuted by a deputation, who at once visited my\nmother-in-law, and brought back from her a flat contradiction of the\nstatement.\n\nI ought to say, that while I was in this circuit, hundreds of drunkards\nwere reformed, many of whom became happy, exemplary, and useful members\nof the Church. I was the means of tens of thousands becoming teetotalers\nin the country round about, and the happy effects of my labors in those\nregions remain, to some extent, to the present day.\n\n12. In 1837, while I was stationed in the Mossley Circuit, I began a\nweekly periodical called the _Evangelical Reformer_. I had long wished\nfor a suitable means of laying my views before my friends, but had found\nnone. The editor of the magazine published by the Body to which I\nbelonged was a very disagreeable man, and to me he was more\nunaccommodating and offensive than to others. He would have published\narticles under my name, but not till he had altered them, and made them\nconformable to his own ideas and tastes. And this was more than I could\nendure. There was another periodical which I could use, and had used\noccasionally, but it lent itself to ill-disposed people as a vehicle of\nslander, and I had ceased to feel myself at liberty to give it my\ncountenance. With a small periodical of my own I could communicate with\nmy friends at pleasure, and I used my _Evangelical Reformer_ for this\npurpose with great freedom. I published my views on temperance, on\nmarriage, on trade, on education, on dress, on diet, on religious\nparties, on books and reading, on the use of money, on the duty of the\nChurch to support its poor members, on toleration and human creeds, and\non a multitude of other subjects, and urged on the churches a reform on\nall these points. My freedom of expression soon brought me into fresh\ntrouble. An article which I published on \"Toleration and Human Creeds,\"\nwas considered by some of my brethren to be highly objectionable and\ndangerous, and was brought before Conference. Conference was pressed by\nmany to condemn the article, and to show its disapprobation of it by\npunishing the author. Others entreated that Conference should spare the\nauthor, lest mischief should follow, and content itself with privately\nexpressing disapprobation of the article. The latter parties prevailed;\nbut their moderation was made of no effect by the editor of the magazine\nwho wickedly published the obnoxious resolution to the world, and so\nrendered it necessary for me to write again on the subject, to defend\nmyself and my article. The result was a controversy between me and some\nof my brethren, which led at length to the most serious consequences.\n\nAnother article was objected to by many of my brother ministers. A\ndraper, a leading member of the society at Ashton, published a circular,\nannouncing the winter fashions, and sent copies to members of my\ncongregation, pressing them to go and purchase his wares, many of which\nwere both costly and useless. I copied this circular into my periodical,\nand advised my readers to disregard its counsels, and to spend their\nmoney like Christians. I added some remarks on the inconsistency of\nprofessing Christians urging people, even in the way of trade, to waste\ntheir Master's money on things forbidden by His word. This article\ncreated a great amount of excitement, and some would fain have had it\ncensured by Conference, along with the other article; but they were not\nallowed to have their way.\n\nBoth my periodical and my other publications were favorably received,\nand had a large circulation, and my opponents thought they gave me too\nmuch power, and made me dangerous; and this became the occasion of\nfurther unpleasantness. On the other hand the magazine had but a poor\ncirculation, and the Book-room, though it had a large amount of capital,\ndid but a very limited business; and I suggested reforms with a view to\nrender them more useful. I urged an improvement of the magazine, and the\npublication of cheap books, with a view to supply useful reading to the\nmembers of the churches, and to people generally. All these propositions\nproved unpalatable to the easy-going officials, and brought on me fresh\ntrials.\n\n13. Again; the standard of morality was low in many of our societies,\nand I pleaded for the enforcement of Christian discipline. Some of our\nmembers were brewers, some publicans, some spirit-merchants, some\nbeer-shop keepers. Old Mr. Thwaites was a publican. His son, who was\nboth class-leader and local preacher, was both a drink-seller and a\npawnbroker. And I am not certain that pawnbroking in England is not as\nbad a business as drink-selling. The two are nearly related and are fast\nfriends. Drunkenness leads to pawnbroking, and pawnbroking helps\ndrunkenness. Timothy Bentley, one of the greatest brewers in England,\nthe poisoner-general both of the souls and bodies of the immense\npopulation of my native county, was a Methodist class-leader at\nHuddersfield. I once met in his class. He was a most venerable and\nsaintly-looking man, and stood in high repute. I regarded these\nbusinesses as anti-christian, and contended that those who persisted in\nthem after due admonition, should be expelled.\n\nThe businesses named above were not the worst. Some members of society\nwere wholesale panders. Take the following facts. When I was sent to\nLiverpool I had a young man, whose name I need not give, for a\nbed-fellow. He was a draper, and his customers were unfortunate women.\nHe sold to them on trust, and went round weekly to collect his money.\nHis father, who was a leading man in the society, and his brothers, were\nin the same way of business. Another man who was a leading member and an\nofficial, followed the same dishonorable occupation. It was usual with\nthose people, when their wretched customers were turned out of their\nhouses by their landlords, to provide them with fresh houses, and even\nto supply them with furniture. When fairs or races were at hand, they\nsupplied them with extra dresses and ornaments, to enable them to ply\ntheir horrible trade to better advantage. These facts I had in part from\nmy bed-fellow, and in part from the people in whose house he kept his\nshop, and with whom I lived. When I came to know these things I was very\nuneasy; and on finding that it was unsafe to sleep with my bed-fellow, I\ngot fresh lodgings. This vexed my bed-fellow and all his family, and\nmade them my enemies. I spoke of these things to my superintendent, but\nhe advised me to be cautious what I did and said in reference to such\nmatters. And he told me a story that he had met with in a work on the\nministry by an American, which he had just been reading. This author\nsaid, that out of fifty ministers whom he had known expelled from their\nholy office, only one or two had been expelled for immoral conduct or\ngross inconsistency: all the rest had been discarded on account of\nimprudences. This was meant to deter me from interfering either by word\nor deed with faulty members of society. And he backed his ungodly\ncounsel by as bad an example. For he not only left those wicked people\nto pursue their evil courses undisturbed, but visited at their houses,\nallowed his family to receive presents from them, and, when he was\nleaving the circuit, did himself accept from their unclean hands a\nportion of their filthy gains, in the shape of a testimonial of their\nrespect for his great abilities and distinguished virtues. This person,\nwhose general conduct was much in keeping with the facts I have given\nabove, though he was the foremost minister in the Connexion, proved my\nmost persistent adversary in after life, and never rested till he had\nbrought about my expulsion from the ministry.\n\n14. I will mention another affair to show what notions certain members\nof the church had of what was required of Christians in reference to\nbusiness matters. I bought some handkerchiefs of a man, a member of\nsociety, in Chester, on his assurance that they would wash. When we\nwashed them they came to pieces. I asked the man afterwards if he was\naware when he sold the handkerchiefs that they were rotten. He said he\nwas. \"Then why did you sell me them?\" I asked. He said he had bought\nthem for good ones himself, and that he could not afford to lose what he\nhad given for them. I wanted such people to be dealt with according to\nthe rules of Christian discipline.\n\n15. There were many other sad facts, far more than I have either time or\ndisposition to mention, which forced themselves on my notice, and\nobliged me, in conscience, to plead and labor for reform. There seemed a\ndreadful distance between the character of Christ and the character of\nthe Church; and I wished to make it less. How far I erred in my efforts\nto bring about this desirable result, and how far I acted wisely, it is\nnot for me to say. I know that my object was good, and that the course I\ntook was the one that seemed best to me at the time; but it is probable\nthat some would have gone about the work in a wiser way. I never\nexcelled in certain forms of prudence. I was prone to speak forth my\nthoughts and feelings without much consideration and with but little\nreserve; and I often used the plainest and even the strongest words. I\nwas too open. My heart was too near my mouth. I thought aloud. And I was\nnot sufficiently tender of people's feelings. Nor did I make sufficient\nallowance for their prejudices and imperfections. I probably expected\ntoo much from men. And some of the reforms which I proposed might at\nthe time be impracticable. I was accustomed to muse very much on the\nteachings of Christ and His Apostles, and to image to myself a state of\nthings in the Church which, though very desirable, was probably\nunattainable, except through many slow preliminary changes. I wished for\na church \"without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing,\"--a church that\nshould set forth and carry out the highest principles of Christian\npurity and charity--and that was a blessing to be looked for not in the\npresent, but in the future only.\n\n16. Then I had but little knowledge of human nature, either in its\nregenerate or unregenerate state. I over-rated men's virtues, and\nunder-rated their defects. I trusted them too much and feared them too\nlittle. I took all who put on a fair appearance, for friends, and\nimparted to them the innermost thoughts of my soul. And many proved\nunworthy of my confidence. And I often over-rated men's talents or\ncapabilities. I was not aware of the infinite difference in men's\npowers. I thought all my brethren in the ministry, and almost all my\nbrother Christians, were capable, under proper culture, of being made as\nwise, as able, as eloquent, as the most distinguished in the Church. I\nwas not aware that some men were naturally palm-trees, and others only\nbrambles; that some were pearls, and others only pebbles; and that these\nconstitutional differences were unalterable. Hence I expected too much\nof some, and was too impatient perhaps when disappointed. I erred with\nregard both to men and institutions, and my colleagues were often\noffended with what they deemed my unreasonable expectations and demands.\n\n17. But in truth, it is not necessary for reformers to err, in order to\ngive offence. The best and wisest One that ever appeared on earth gave\noffence to those who were wedded to error and abuses. A Christian\nreformer can never please the \"earthly, the sensual, and the devilish.\"\nThe history of Christ and of Paul has settled that. A Christian reformer\nnever does the right thing in the estimation of the idle, the selfish,\nthe corrupt: and if he does, he never does it at the right time, or in\nthe right way. He always meddles too early, or too late; and he always\ngoes too fast, or too slow; and he always does too much, or too little.\nHe interferes with their ease, their interests, and their pleasures,\nand that is enough. They will, in return, endeavor to destroy his\ninfluence, if not to take away his life. They will impute to him the\nvilest motives. They will stick at no lie, no wrong, that seems likely\nto damage his reputation. They will magnify his innocent weaknesses or\ntrifling inconsistencies, and represent them as gross and unpardonable\nfaults. If he is faithful they will call him rash; if he is prudent they\nwill call him hypocritical; and they will labor in every way to awaken\nagainst him distrust and prejudice in the minds of the better-disposed\namong their brethren.\n\nAnd many of the better-disposed themselves often see what tries them\ngreatly in the character and doings of reformers. It is the natural\ntendency of the reforming spirit to lead a man to look too much at what\nis amiss in men and systems, and too little at what is right and\npraiseworthy. It is what is amiss that _wants_ reforming, so he fixes\nhis mind on that, and makes it the constant subject of his conversation.\nAnd so it was with myself no doubt to some extent. And this, to men of\nconservative tendencies, who look more at the good and less at the evil\nin the men and systems with which they are connected, seems a grievous\nfault, an inexcusable piece of injustice, deserving the severest\ncensure. And they repay it with the sternest condemnation.\n\nAnd conservatives can be as blind or one-sided as the most eager\nreformers. They can shut their eyes to what is evil, or treat great\nabuses as excusable trifles; while they magnify what is good beyond all\nbounds. And when they get excited or vexed they can be as unjust towards\nthe reformer, as the most rabid reformer can be towards them or their\npet institutions. And there are few things fiercer than the fire of\nbigotry, even in minds not destitute of piety. The truth is, when men\nwax hot, either in favor of reform or against it, justice is forgotten,\nand kindness and courtesy are out of the question.\n\nAnd so it was in the controversies which arose out of my efforts at\nreform. I was assailed both by the malignity of the corrupt, and by the\nbigotry of the misguided. I was hated by the bad, and dreaded by some of\nthe good, and abused and persecuted by both. And some of my enemies had\nneither mercy nor moderation. They pressed matters to the most terrible\nextremes.\n\nAnd I was not sufficiently on my guard. Instead of possessing my soul in\npatience, and casting my care on God, I allowed their persecutions to\nincrease the bitterness of my unhappy feelings, and render my ultimate\nseparation from them inevitable.\n\n18. There were several other matters which had something to do in\ncausing unpleasant feelings between me and a number of my brethren.\n\nIt fell to my lot to be unusually popular. I became so at a very early\nperiod. I was, in consequence, often invited by other circuits to preach\ntheir special sermons, and I frequently accepted those invitations. Some\nof my superintendents were annoyed at this, and showed their displeasure\nin very offensive ways. While I was in Hanley circuit my superintendent\ncalled a meeting of a number of leading friends, before which I was\nsummoned to appear. There my acceptance of invitations to preach\noccasional sermons was charged against me as an offence, and I was\nordered not to _go_ into other circuits any more, without the consent of\nmy superintendent. I offered no objection to this. My superintendent\nnext charged me with having a number of objectionable books in my\nlibrary. He had requested the woman at whose house I lodged to show him\ninto my room during my absence, and there he had found the works of\nShakespeare, Barrow, Tillotson, and Paley, and some volumes of poems by\nLord Byron. The meeting advised me to get rid of Shakespeare and Byron,\nand to be careful how I used the works of Barrow, Tillotson, and Paley,\nas they were not Methodistical, and my great concern, it was said,\nshould be to excel as a teacher and defender of Methodism. With this\nrecommendation I could not entirely comply. I retained my Shakespeare; I\nhave him yet. And I read the works of Tillotson, Barrow, and Paley as\nfreely as I had done before. But I lost all confidence in my\nsuperintendent, and a portion of the respect I had felt for those who\ntook his part. Towards the close of the year my superintendent and his\nfriends endeavored to prevent me from receiving a perfect certificate,\non the pretence that I had expressed a doubt whether my health would\nprove equal to the work of the ministry. Their objections proved of no\navail; but the spirit which my superintendent showed, increased the\nunhappy feeling which his previous unkindness had awakened in my breast.\n\n19. The wife of one of our ministers published a book, and the husband\nsent it to me for review. It contained, mixed up with a great variety of\nuseful remarks, a number of anti-scriptural and antinomian passages.\nWhile I did justice to the rest of the book, I exposed its errors with\ngreat fidelity, and gave the husband great offence.\n\n20. About the same time a gentleman at whose house I was billeted at\nBury, when lecturing there on temperance, made me a present of a volume\nof Channing's discourses. I read this volume with the greatest delight,\nand spoke of it highly in my periodical. Now Channing was a Unitarian,\nand in one of the discourses contained in the volume which I had\ncommended, there were several Unitarian expressions. The husband of the\nlady whose book I had reviewed brought the matter before Conference. He\nalso quoted from my periodical a number of passages which he contended\nwere not Methodistical. He was very violent in his remarks, and\nconcluded his address by demanding my expulsion. He had conferred with a\nnumber of other preachers before Conference came on, and formed a\nconsiderable party, and the clamor for my condemnation was both loud and\nsomewhat general. A gentleman, however, of great influence in\nConference,--the same who had pleaded for moderation at the Conference\nprevious,--rose and proposed a gentler course. The result was a\ncommittee, explanations and a settlement. After the Conference, the\nterms of the settlement were misrepresented by my opponents, and I felt\ncalled upon to put them in their proper light. This revived the\ncontroversy, and made matters worse than they had been before.\n\n21. I have referred to the rule which required young preachers to remain\nsingle for four or five years. When a person was received into the\nministry, he was required to give a pledge that he would keep this rule.\nI declined to give this pledge, I said I had no _intention_ to marry\nbefore the appointed time, and that if I _did_ so, I should be in the\nhands of the Conference, and they could do with me what they thought\nbest. This was considered sufficient, and I was accepted. As it happened\nI _did_ marry before the appointed time. I had had such unsuitable\nlodgings found me where I had been stationed, and I had suffered so much\nin consequence, that I felt justified in taking a wife and providing\naccommodations for myself, I took for my wife a woman of exemplary\ncharacter, of amiable disposition, and engaging manners, and I put the\ncircuits in which I was stationed to no additional expense or trouble. I\ntook my own house, and provided my own furniture. And I neither begged\nnor borrowed a penny, nor did I run one penny into debt. And I worked as\nhard after marriage as before, and probably harder, and to better\npurpose. The Conference however punished me by putting me a year back,\nand transporting me to the most distant part of a very distant circuit.\nThither I had to remove my wife and furniture at great expense. And the\nallowance for board there was the lowest that the laws allowed a society\nto give. My whole yearly income was only forty pounds, or two hundred\ndollars. I was required too to be often and long from home in distant\nparts of the circuit. I went however to my appointment and set to work,\ndisposed, though sorrowful, to do my duty. I got a part of an old\nuninhabited house, and my wife made it comfortable. We lived\neconomically, and kept out of debt, without the aid of either gifts or\nloans, and I never had a happier year, and my labors were never better\nreceived or more successful; and Blyth, the place of my banishment, will\nbe dear to me as long as I live.\n\n22. Yet I had many trials while stationed there. My superintendent was\nunkind, and tried from time to time to do me harm. But though he caused\nme much trouble at times, a higher power overruled things for my good.\nOne of the societies over which he had great influence was really cruel.\nIt refused to postpone a service to allow me to go and see my child when\nit was very ill, and thought to be in great danger. The circuit was\nnearly thirty miles in length, and I had to spend nearly half my time\nfrom fifteen to twenty-three miles away from home. Once when starting\nfor the most distant of my appointments, I had left my little child\nvery unwell, and apparently in danger of death. It was too bad that I\nshould have had to leave my little family under such circumstances; but\nthe feeling in many parts of the circuit was so unfriendly towards me,\nin consequence of the unfavorable representations of my views and habits\nof thought circulated by my superintendent and his friends, that I could\nnot have missed an appointment with safety. I had been away five days,\nwhen I heard that my child was worse, and likely to die. I had still one\nappointment to fulfil, but I resolved, if possible, to get it postponed,\nand hasten home. I went to the place and requested the leaders to allow\nme to put off the appointment to the following week. They refused my\nrequest. I told them I had received word that my child was likely to\ndie, and that I was anxious to be with its afflicted mother; but they\nwould not give way. I was sadly tried, and I said, \"I shall go home\nnotwithstanding. If I find my child alive and likely to recover, I will\nreturn and preach; if I do not find it better, I shall not return. I\nshall stay at home and take the consequences!\" I had already walked\nthirteen miles. It was ten or eleven more to Blyth. I walked the whole\ndistance. There was no conveyance. My superintendent was allowed horse\nhire; but I was not: and I could not afford to pay for a horse myself\nout of sixteen dollars or three pound five a month. I reached home, and\nfound my child a little better. After a little rest, I started back on\nfoot to my appointment. My wife looked out of the window after me,\nweeping, afraid to ask me to remain with her. She knew the temper of my\nsuperintendent, and the feeling of the people, so she wept in silence. I\nwalked over ten miles more, and then preached. I walked altogether\nthirty-three miles that day. I was very much tired; but I had seen my\nwife and child, so I went through my work without complaining, and was\nup very early next morning, and walked ten miles more to breakfast with\nmy darling wife, and to comfort her sorrowful heart. My child got well,\nand all things turned out happily in the end. Still, the unkindness of\nthe Conference in punishing me so undeservedly, and the cruelty of my\nsuperintendent and the Westmoor leaders, made me feel very keenly, and I\ncould never think of those matters without something like indignation\nand horror. And all these annoyances lessened my respect for many of my\nbrethren, and helped to prepare the way for future troubles.\n\nMy troubles did not all come from the preachers. There were several\nlaymen in and about Newcastle-on-Tyne, who seemed to think it a duty to\nannoy their young minister. The worst, though in some respects the best,\nof that class was Thomas Snowdon, an old local preacher, leader, and\ntrustee. The first interview that I had with this man he took occasion\nto insult me respecting my marriage, and also gave me to understand that\nhe should expect me to be in perfect subjection to his will, if I wished\nto enjoy much peace or comfort in the circuit. It fell to my lot to be\nlodged and boarded for part of my time at his house, and to show his way\nof proceeding I may give the following.\n\nIt was his custom to read a portion of the Scriptures to his family\nevery morning, and as he passed along he would make comments on what he\nread. When I was there, he would frequently stop in his readings and\ncomments, to ask my opinion, and he seemed to expect that I must always\nconcur in what he said. At times however I was obliged to dissent from\nhis sayings, and then would follow a little controversy. Those\ncontroversies were never very profitable, in consequence of his constant\ndesire to force his own opinions on me, and to extort from me assent to\nhis whimsical and foolish observations. Yet he still continued to force\nthose controversies.\n\nHe also took upon himself the office of perpetual censurer of my\ndiscourses. And his censures were generally proportioned to the goodness\nof the sermon. If I happened to be particularly at liberty in my\ndiscourse, and preach better than usual, he would blame almost\neverything. If I preached indifferently, he would censure less; and if I\npreached poorly, if I was embarrassed in my discourse, and seemed\ntroubled or sad on that account, he would scarcely censure at all. Then\nthe things which he censured would be sure to be the best and truest\nparts of my sermon. He appeared to think that he was out of his duty,\nunless he was endeavoring to torture the mind of the young preacher, and\nto force him, if possible, into subjection to his will.\n\nOn one occasion he and I had nearly quarrelled. He had tried me till I\ncould keep silence no longer, so I told him plainly what I thought about\nhis manner of proceeding. I spoke so plainly, that both he and his wife\nwere seriously put about. Soon after that, on my visiting the Newcastle\nside of the circuit, I found that the people at whose house I was then\naccustomed to sleep, had gone off, and closed the house, so that I was\nobliged to look out for other lodgings. I went directly to Mr.\nSnowdon's. He was the principal man in the circuit, and it was his place\nto see that I was properly provided for. His wife seemed astonished when\nI entered the house: but I told her how the matter stood; and I added,\nthat I did not feel disposed to go, at that time of the night, (for it\nwas getting rather late) to any other lodging; so that I hoped she would\ngive me a bed. I also said, that unless I could be accommodated with a\nbed there, I would at once return to Blyth. She said, 'I should always\nbe glad to see you, and to give you either bed or anything else, if you\nwould not disagree and dispute so with our master.' I replied, 'It is\nyour master that will disagree and dispute with me. I should be quiet\nenough, if he would let me alone. I never force my opinions on him; it\nis only when he attempts to force his opinions on me that I ever speak.\nYou must yourself have seen that he will neither allow me to be silent,\nnor allow me quietly to speak my mind; that he _will_ oblige me to\nspeak, and yet always finds fault if I say anything at variance with\nwhat _he_ says.' She acknowledged that her husband was rather queer in\nthat respect, but still thought that I might manage a great deal better\nwith him if I would. I told her I had done my best, and that it was all\nto no purpose. 'He will ask my opinion,' said I, 'on every subject that\ncomes into his head, and then begin to complain whenever my opinion\nhappens to differ from his.' I also added, that I thought he sometimes\ndisputed with me merely for the sake of disputing, and contradicted me,\nnot because he thought I was wrong, but because he thought that it would\nbe too much of a compliment to acknowledge that he agreed with me on any\nsubject. She thought I was too severe upon him. I said, 'Well, just wait\nand see to-night, and if it is not as I have said, you shall blame me\nas much as you like, and I will acknowledge myself in error.'\n\nAlmost immediately Mr. Snowdon came in. 'What are _you_ doing here\nto-night?' said he. 'I have come to sleep here,' I replied, 'and more\nthan that, I _must_ sleep here, or else return to Blyth. Mr. G----'s\nhouse is closed, and it is too late to seek a bed elsewhere.' He made no\nobjections, and things proceeded as usual. He soon took his Bible,\ncalled the family around him, and began to read. The lesson was in\nIsaiah. He had not read far before he began to explain a passage.\n'This,' said he, 'refers to our blessed Lord Jesus Christ. It points out\nthe glory of His character and of His person as the supreme God and Lord\nof all; exhibits Him as the _Maker_ as well as the _Saviour_ of the\nworld. Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' said he. I remained silent. 'Is\nnot that your view of the subject, Mr. Barker?' he added. 'I have no\nobjections to offer,' I said. This did not seem exactly to satisfy him;\nbut he went on, and read again. 'And so it is,' said he; 'we are all by\nnature as an unclean thing; there is no health in us. How deeply we are\nfallen, Mr. Barker! Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' I made no reply.\nHe wished to know why I was silent. I said I did not like to be always\ntalking on those matters,--that I would rather he would read on, and\nallow us to think about the chapter at our leisure afterwards. All this\ntime his wife was dreadfully fidgetty. She wanted to speak to him, but\ncould not. She wished to catch his attention by her looks, but to no\npurpose. The proof of the truth of what I had said was becoming too\nstrong for her, and she could scarcely sit still on her chair. He\nproceeded: 'This,' said he, 'refers to the glory of the Church of Christ\nin the latter days, when the Gentiles shall be converted, and the Jews\nbrought back to their own land. This will be a glorious time, Mr.\nBarker. What are your views on this subject, Mr. Barker?' Then he added\nsome further remarks, concluding with the question, 'Do you not think\nso, Mr. Barker?' I now began to laugh: I could hold no longer. 'And do\nyou laugh at God's holy word?' said he: and a terrible lecture he would\nhave read me, had not his wife broke out and said, 'Hinney, you are to\nblame, you are to blame. You won't let Mr. Barker alone: he would be\nsilent if you would allow him: you are too bad.' He repeated his\nterrible rebuke of my levity, and I began to explain. I told him what\nhad passed between his wife and me before he came in. I told him all\nthat I thought about his way of proceeding towards me in those matters,\nand he, poor fellow, was completely confounded. I told him that it\nseemed to me as if he really took pleasure in tormenting people; as if\nhe could not be happy unless he thought that he was making other people\nmiserable,--that he seemed to begrudge those that were around him the\nleast ease, or quietness, or pleasure, and to wish to keep them on a\nperpetual rack. It was his time now to explain and apologize, and what\ndo you think was the reason he assigned for his proceedings? 'Hinney,'\nsaid he, 'Mr. Barker is a young minister, and I wish to inure him to\nhardness as a good soldier of our Lord Jesus Christ.' I told him there\nwere painful things enough in the world to inure men to hardness without\nhis making more, &c. After this he never annoyed me much in that way\nagain. He did not allow me to rest altogether; that would have been too\nmuch; but he was a vast deal better; and if he ever after this began to\nbe queer, I always felt greater confidence in refusing to talk to him,\nand in letting him know that I expected to be allowed to have a little\nof my own way.\n\nI never could persuade myself but that this man was, after all, a good\nman. I believe he really feared God and loved his fellow-men. I think he\nwas conscientious and benevolent. Among other proofs of his benevolence\nI may mention, that he took an orphan family under his care, and reared\nthem. He made them _work_, it is true; he made _every_ one work that was\nunder _him_; but he fed them, and clothed them, and taught them in his\nway. He acted, in short, like a father to them.\n\nAgain, when my mother came over to see me at Newcastle, he invited her\nto his house. He showed her every possible attention. He was as kind as\nit was possible for a man to be. And when she had to leave for Leeds, he\nwas up by four or five o'clock in the morning, to provide her a\ncomfortable breakfast, and take her to the coach. But I observed that he\nwas always kinder to old people than to young people. I suppose he\nthought that old people had had trouble enough, and that he had\ntherefore no need to give them more; but that young people were in\ndanger of being too happy, of having too little trouble, and that it was\nnecessary therefore that he should be their tormentor. But even to the\nyoung he could be kind on occasions, very kind; and if the young showed\na disposition to meet his views, to receive his sayings as oracles, and\nalways to consult his will, he would even caress and commend them. But\nhe could receive no measured or limited subjection. They must neither\nthink, nor speak, nor smile, nor stir but in accordance with his will if\nthey wished to enjoy his favor. The least imaginable opposition to his\njudgment or his pleasure, would draw forth his rebukes.\n\nThere were laymen in almost all places who took upon themselves to tell\nyou what you should believe and teach, and to condemn you as a heretic\nif you did not attend to their suggestions.\n\n24. In 1837, shortly after I was stationed in Mossley, I had a public\ndiscussion with a clergyman on the propriety or lawfulness of teaching\nthe children of the poor to write in our Sunday-schools. The New\nConnexion people in the Mossley circuit taught writing in their\nSunday-schools, and they had, in consequence, a very large attendance of\nscholars, and very prosperous churches. Their scholars outnumbered those\nof all the other schools put together. This seemed to annoy the\nministers of the other denominations, and it was no uncommon thing for\nthose ministers, when they came to preach the yearly sermons in behalf\nof the funds of their Schools, to say strong things against the practice\nof the New Connexion. Dr. Nunn, of the Established Church, contended\nthat it was Sabbath-breaking, and challenged the New Connexion officials\nto a public discussion on the subject. They accepted the challenge, and\nappointed me their champion. I contended, that in the circumstances in\nwhich the children of the poor were placed at that time, it was an act\nof mercy and Christian beneficence to teach them to write on Sundays.\nThe clergyman gave up the contest before the time allowed for the debate\ncame to a close, and I was proclaimed victor. I published my views on\nthe subject in a pamphlet, entitled MERCY TRIUMPHANT, which\nhad an extensive circulation, and produced a powerful effect on the\nviews of large numbers of people. Some of my brethren denounced the\npamphlet as heretical, and the editor of the _Magazine_ took occasion to\ninform his readers, in an offensive way, that my views were not the\nviews of the body to which I belonged.\n\n25. In the Sheffield circuit I had several unpleasant collisions with\none of my colleagues, and a couple of superannuated ministers, about a\nrich but very unworthy member there. This man was anxious to control the\naction of the whole circuit, and even of the whole Connexion, and one of\nmy colleagues, and the two superannuated ministers, one of which was Mr.\nAllin, my old and persistent opponent, took his part. I had myself no\nfaith in the man. I knew him to be both an ignorant and unworthy person.\nHe was, in fact, a drunkard. Both he and Mr. Allin once, after having\nspent the day at a public feast, came into an official meeting drunk in\nthe evening. I was present, and saw the horrible sight. It afterwards\ncame out that this rude, ambitious man was something worse than a\ndrunkard. I did what I could to avoid an open rupture with my colleagues\nand this man's friends, and succeeded for a time, but they obliged me at\nlast, either to sanction what I felt to be wrong, or openly to protest\nagainst their proceedings. I protested. And now the unsubstantial peace\nwhich had existed between us for a time was followed by a very unhappy\nrupture, which left deep and angry wounds in the hearts of all the\ncontending parties.\n\n26. But to give all the incidents which proved the occasion of bitter\nfeeling and alienation between me and a number of my brethren would\nrequire a book. They were happening almost continually. When once people\nhave ceased to regard each other with love and confidence, they can\nneither speak nor stir without giving each other offence. And this was\nthe state to which I and several of my brethren had come. Indeed such\nwas the unhappy state of our feelings, that we had ceased to take\npleasure in pleasing, and had come almost to take delight in trying one\nanother. Instead of coming as near together as we could, we got as far\nas possible apart. We came at length to feel a kind of gratification in\nfinding what appeared good reasons for differing from one another. The\nconsequence was, we came to differ from each other so much, that it\nbecame impossible for us to work together to any advantage.\n\nAnd there was no one with wisdom and piety sufficient to interpose and\nheal the breach, or even to prevent it from getting continually wider.\nThe gentleman who had acted as mediator and moderator when my article on\n_Toleration and Human Creeds_ was arraigned, and who had also brought\nabout the temporary settlement of a more serious dispute at the\nConference following, now found the case beyond his powers, and made no\nfurther attempts at reconciliation. He saw it necessary, if he would\nretain his influence in the Body, to become a partizan, instead of a\nmediator, and he chose the side of my opponents. There were two other\nmen--two of the oldest and ablest of our ministers--and two of the most\nexemplary Christians in the Body--who saw the danger of the tempest that\nwas raging against me, and who would have been glad to screen me from\nits violence, but they were afraid to interpose. They loved me and\nesteemed me, and sympathized with me in many of my views; but to have\nattempted to save me from the fury of my opponents, would have been to\nrisk their own reputation and position. One of them had already suffered\nin consequence of the freedom with which he had expressed his views on\ncertain anti-christian doctrines, though he had written with far more\ncaution, and acted with much more prudence, than I had done; and he no\ndoubt felt, that if he could not, without so much difficulty, save\nhimself, it would be vain to attempt to save another, who had spoken and\nwritten with so much more freedom, and acted with so much more\nindependence. So the storm was left to rage and spend its fury on my own\nhead.\n\nI cannot give an account of all that followed during the last two years\nwhich I spent in connection with the Church; it would make my story too\nlong. But things got worse and worse as time passed on.\n\nIn 1840 I brought my _Evangelical Reformer_ to a close. In the last\nnumber I declared my unchanged belief in the sentiments set forth in my\narticle on \"_Toleration, Human Creeds, &c._\" I also contradicted the\nreports that had been spread abroad by my enemies, to the effect that I\nhad, at the preceding Conference, retracted certain expressions used in\nmy writings with regard to justification, the witness of the Spirit,\n&c.; and censured the conduct of the ruling party in my case in very\nplain terms. I said, \"If any of my opponents imagine that I have\nrecanted a single sentence that I have published in this work, they are\nunder some misapprehension. There is not a doctrine that I have\ninculcated in it that I do not still maintain. And I declare my full\nconviction that the resolutions which were passed in reference to me by\nthe Ashton and Huddersfield Conferences were based in error, and that\nthe proceedings of my opponents in this matter were uncalled for and\nunchristian.\"\n\nMy enemies at once decided on my expulsion. Their purpose was to cast me\nout at the following Conference, and Mr. Allin published a small tract\nin reply to my article on Human Creeds, to prepare the minds of the\npeople for the intended measure. He published it just before Conference,\nwhen he supposed it would be impossible for me to prepare a reply before\nthe Body assembled. I never saw it till the evening of Thursday, the day\nbut one before that on which I was to leave home for the distant place\nwhere the Conference was to meet. But I wrote a reply the same night,\nand got it printed, and in less than twenty-four hours it was\ncirculating in every direction. I had been able to show that my\nopponent's arguments proved just the contrary of what they were brought\nforward to prove. I also showed that the views advocated in my article\nwere the views of Mr. Kilham, the founder of the Body to which we all\nbelonged, and were, in fact, the views of some of the best and ablest\nmen that the Church universal had ever produced. I gave quite a\nmultitude of quotations justifying my article to the very letter. The\neffect was astounding. The people saw at once that I was right. My\nenemies were confounded. They were paralyzed. And I was saved.\n\nBut it was only for a time. The contest had lasted so long, and had\nproduced such a fearful amount of unhappy feeling between me and my\nopponents, that reconciliation and comfortable co-operation had become\nimpossible. It could not be expected that a powerful party would rest\ncontent under a defeat; and it was not in me to give up my efforts to\nbring about a better state of things in the Connexion. And hence a\nrenewal of the unhappy strife.\n\nIt is natural to suppose that my enemies would now be anxious to get rid\nof me, and would watch for a suitable occasion to cast me out; and my\nideas of duty were such, that it was impossible for me long to refrain\nfrom giving them the opportunity they desired. I did it as follows.\n\n1. The early churches provided for their poor members. The Quakers, the\nMoravians, and the early Methodists did the same. This exercise of\nbrotherly love is enjoined by Christ and His Apostles. I urged this duty\non the church to which I belonged. I preached and published a sermon on\nthe subject, and circulated a number of tracts on the same point,\npublished by others.\n\n2. The travelling preachers had a Fund, called the Beneficent Fund, for\nthe support of superannuated preachers and preachers' widows. Some of\nthe rules of this fund seemed to me to be anti-christian, and I labored\nto get them altered. I also recommended that there should be a fund for\nworn-out and needy local preachers.\n\n3. Members of the churches mingled with drunkards, profligates, and\ninfidels, in benefit societies, and many other associations. This seemed\nto me to be very objectionable, and plainly unscriptural, and I\nrecommended that they should come out from such societies, and form\nassociations for good objects among themselves.\n\n4. Wesley had provided cheap books and pamphlets for his societies, and\nI urged the Conference to do the same for ours. I wrote letters to the\nAnnual Committee, the representatives of the Connexion, showing that\nbooks published at eight or ten shillings a volume, could be supplied at\none or one and sixpence. I reminded them of the fact that the Book-room\nhad abundance of spare capital which might be profitably used in such a\nwork, and I pointed out the advantages likely to result from the\nencouragement of thoughtful and studious habits among the people. I\npublished a pamphlet on the subject, entitled _The Church and the\nPress_, showing that the churches might almost monopolize the supply of\nbooks, and become the teachers and the rulers of the nations, I said,\n\"If the Church at large would do its duty, every dark place on earth\nmight be visited, and the seeds of truth and righteousness sown in every\npart of the globe in a few years.\" With regard to our own Connexion I\nsaid, \"Our Magazine and Book-room, which ought to be promoting the\nintellectual and religious improvement of the Connexion and the world,\nare doing just nothing at all, or next to nothing. The leading articles\nof the Magazine are among the dullest and most useless things ever\nprinted. The Book-room, which has capital enough to publish thirty or\nforty new books a year, does not issue one. An institution which ought\nto be filling the Connexion and the country generally with the light and\nblessings of Christianity, and which is capable of being made a blessing\nto the world at large, is allowed to 'stand there all the day idle.'\"\n\nI then proposed, as a means of stimulating the Book Committee and the\nEditor of the Magazine to greater activity, that I and my friends should\nbe allowed to publish a periodical, and to establish a Book-room, at our\nown expense. The proposal was not only rejected, but even treated as a\ncapital offence.\n\n5. I had labored hard against the infidel socialists, lecturing against\nthem in almost all the large towns in the kingdom, and I was, to a great\nextent, the means of breaking up their societies. But my contests with\nthose infidels made me more sensible of the necessity of abandoning all\nhuman additions to Christ's doctrine, and of having nothing to defend\nbut the beautiful and beneficent principles of pure unadulterated\nChristianity. Hence I became still less of a sectarian in my belief, and\nmore and more of a simple Christian, and I labored to promote a stricter\nconformity to the teachings of Christ among ministers and Christians\ngenerally.\n\n6. I wrote against the waste of God's money by professing Christians in\nluxurious living and vain show, and exhorted the rich to employ their\nsurplus wealth in doing good.\n\n7. That it might not be said that I received pay from the church for\ndoing one kind of work while I employed a portion of my time in doing\nothers, I gave up my salary, and refused to receive anything from the\ncircuit in which I was stationed, except what was given me as a\nfree-will offering.\n\n8. I withdrew from the preachers' benefit society, resolved, in case of\nsickness or old age, to trust for a supply of my wants to the providence\nof God.\n\n9. I recommended the Connexion to pay off all the chapel debts, and\nprepare itself for more vigorous and extensive aggressions on the\nkingdom of darkness.\n\nAll these things increased the anxiety of my opponents to get me out of\nthe ministry; but they would probably have failed to give them the power\nto accomplish their object, if I had gone no farther. But I believed it\nmy duty to take another step.\n\n10. It was the custom in the Body to which I belonged, to baptize\nchildren in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. This\nform of words was understood by me to imply that infant baptism was\ncommanded by God in Scripture. This, however, I doubted, and I declined\nto use the words when naming or baptizing children. I had no objection\nto name children, to pray for them, or even to sprinkle them; but I\ncould not use an expression in a sense in which I did not think it\nstrictly true. This emboldened my enemies to attempt my expulsion\nwithout more ado, and this time they adopted measures calculated to\nensure success. They issued circulars on the subject to the ministers\nand to the leading and influential laymen. They called secret meetings.\nThey employed a variety of means which seemed to me and my friends to\nsavor more of Popish tyranny than of Christian discipline. At length\nConference came, and I was called to account. The charges against me\nwere--\n\n1. That I had denied the divine appointment of baptism, and refused to\nadminister the ordinance.\n\n2. That I had denied the divine appointment and present obligation of\nthe Lord's supper.\n\n3. That I had declared myself opposed to the beneficent fund.\n\n4. That I had announced the formation of a book establishment, thereby\nengaging in worldly pursuits, contrary to rule, and by this means\nopposing the best interests of the Book-room.\n\nNone of those charges were true. 1. What I proposed to do with regard to\nthe supply of books, was no more worldly business than preaching was,\nor selling the publications of the Connexion. The object was not profit,\nbut extended usefulness. 2. I had not declared myself opposed to the\nBeneficent Fund, but had simply proposed the improvement of its rules,\nand the extension of its operations. 3. I had not denied either the\ndivine appointment or present obligation of the Lord's supper. 4. Nor\nhad I denied the divine appointment of baptism, but only declared my\nbelief that _water baptism_, though a becoming rite under the Christian\ndispensation, was the baptism of John, and absolutely binding only under\nhis intermediate dispensation.\n\nThe two latter charges were not pressed, and even the second was\nspeedily given up, the one on baptism only remaining. This was pressed,\nand as my views on the subject were deemed intolerable, I was expelled.\n\nThere was a fearful display of bad feeling on the part of many of my\nopponents. And no little pressure was brought to bear on those who were\nopposed to extreme measures. It was a time of terrible trial to those\nwho showed themselves my friends. The height to which the excitement\nagainst me rose can hardly be made intelligible to my readers of the\npresent day. I regarded the proceedings of my opponents from beginning\nto end as dishonorable, unjust and cruel. \"They have gone,\" said I, in\nmy account of the proceedings of the Conference, \"they have gone in\nopposition to every dictate both of equity and charity. The principles\non which they have acted are the low, the dark, and the tyrannical\nprinciples of Popery. They have covered themselves with dishonor, and\nearned for themselves a name for injustice, intolerance and cruelty,\nbeyond all the religious denominations in the land. Many a time, as I\nsat in my place in Conference, hearing what was said, and observing what\nwas done, I asked myself, 'Is this like Christ? Can this be pleasing to\nGod? What must angels think to look upon a scene like this? Perpetual\ntalk about the authority of Conference and the majesty of the rules; but\nnot a word about the authority of Christ, or the majesty and supremacy\nof the Gospel. And such overbearing, such harshness, such determined\nunrelenting cruelty towards all who showed a determination to act\naccording to their own convictions of duty.' In the evenings, after the\nsittings of Conference were adjourned, I and a friend frequently walked\nout among the hills surrounding the town, conversing with each other,\nand with our heavenly Father, and oh! what a contrast! What a boundless\ncontrast between the atmosphere of Conference, and the atmosphere of\nthose sweet hills! What an infinite relief to be placed beyond the sound\nof angry strife, and jealous, persecuting rage; to walk at large over\nthe lofty hills, to breathe the fresh air of heaven, to converse with\nGod, to look upon His wondrous works, to hear the sweet music of the\nbirds, to trace the silent path of the shadowy woods, or to stand on the\nexposed, uncovered peaks of the mountain tops, and cast one's eyes on\nfruitful vales, and quiet homes, and all that earth can show of grand\nand beautiful, and most of all, to see in every sight the hand of\nGod--to hear in every sound His voice,--to feel that the Great,\nAlmighty, Unseen Spirit of the Universe, that lived and worked through\nall, was our Father and our love,--to feel that we were one with Him,\nand that He was one with us. 'This is heaven,' I cried; and, pointing to\nthe scene of strife and hate that lurked below, I added, 'That is hell.'\nNever before did we understand why Jesus, after having spent the day in\ncrowds, and being harassed with the captious, cruel, persecuting Scribes\nand Pharisees, retired at night into the desert, or withdrew to the\nmountains. Never before did the Gospel seem so true a story. Never\nbefore were we brought into such living sympathy with the Saviour of\nmankind. I can recollect nothing I ever met with so trying as to sit in\nConference; but in our walks upon the high places, God made up for all.\"\n\"Well,\" I added, \"I thank God I am now free. My Conference trials are\nended. O never more may I be found shut up with men who set at nought\nthe authority of Christ, and who, by all the cruel acts of unrelenting\npersecution, strive to bend the immortal godlike mind into unnatural\nsubjection to their ambitious will.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nEXPLANATIONS.\n\n\nA few explanations are required before we go further.\n\n_Explanation First. The Different Methodist Bodies._\n\nThe Methodist Body to which my parents belonged, and to which I myself\nbelonged till I was twenty-one years of age, was the Old Connexion or\nWesleyan Body. I was a local preacher in that Body, and was expected and\nrequested to go out as a travelling preacher. But insurmountable\ndifficulties lay in the way. In the first place, none could be received\nas travelling preachers, unless they were willing to go to whatever part\nof the world the conference or the missionary committee might think fit\nto send them, and unless they could _express_ their willingness to be so\ndisposed of before they went out. This I could not do. It was my\nconviction that God had called me to labor in my own country, and to do\ngood amongst my own people. I did not believe myself called to go to any\nforeign country to preach the gospel, and I did not therefore feel at\nliberty to offer to go out on the terms required. I felt as if I should\ndo wrong to expose myself to unseen dangers and unknown trials and\ndifficulties in foreign lands, without a conviction that God required it\nat my hands. And I could not think that I should be likely to succeed in\nmissionary labors, unless I could enter on them with a belief that those\nwere the labors for which God designed me.\n\nThere was another difficulty. Conference had made a new law,\nestablishing a new test of orthodoxy, and no one could be taken out as a\ntravelling preacher now, who could not subscribe to the doctrine of the\nEternal Sonship, as taught by Richard Watson and Jabez Bunting, in\nopposition to Adam Clarke. This test I could not subscribe. I cannot say\nthat I altogether disbelieved the doctrine of the Eternal Sonship; but I\nwas not in a state of mind to justify me in subscribing the doctrine.\nWhether the doctrine of the Eternal Sonship was right or not, I had not\na firm belief in it: and that was reason enough why I should refuse to\nsubscribe it.\n\nAbout this time Conference passed laws forbidding the teaching of\nwriting in all the Sunday Schools. I disapproved of these laws, and was\nunable to bind myself to enforce them. I was obliged therefore to give\nup all thoughts of becoming a travelling preacher in the Old Connexion.\n\nNot long after this, disturbances took place in the Methodist society in\nLeeds, respecting the introduction of an organ into Brunswick Chapel.\nConference, through the importunities of some rich people, had broken\nthrough its own laws, and given authority for the introduction of an\norgan into Brunswick Chapel contrary to the wishes of a great part of\nthe members, trustees, local preachers, and leaders. I of coarse\ndisapproved of this proceeding on the part of Conference. I had heard\nthe Rev. Joseph Suttcliffe speak very seriously and with great and\nsorrowful dissatisfaction of the proceedings of those who were then at\nthe head of Methodistical affairs, and though I did not, at the time,\nrightly understand him, events that took place afterwards, both brought\nhis words to my mind, and showed me their meaning. In consequence of\nwhat I saw, I began to be greatly dissatisfied with the manner in which\nthings were carried on in the society.\n\nA division took place in Leeds, and in several other places, and the\nseceders formed a new body, called the Protestant Methodists. I left the\nold Body at the same time, but having heard favorable accounts of the\nMethodist New Connexion, I joined that community. This Body had seceded\nfrom the Old Connexion some thirty years before, under the Leadership of\nAlexander Kilham. Kilham was a great reformer both in religion and\npolitics. He sympathized with the French revolutionists, and with the\nEnglish religious Latitudinarians. He was a great admirer of Robert\nRobinson of Cambridge, and reprinted, in his periodical, _the Methodist\nMonitor_, his writings on religious liberty. He denounced all human\ncreeds, and proclaimed the Bible the one sole authority in the church\nboth in matters of doctrine and matters of duty. The conference of the\nBody was to consist of one-half preachers and the other half laymen. In\nthe circuit and society meetings the power was to be divided in the same\nway. A list of doctrines generally held in the Body was afterwards drawn\nup and published, but was not put forward as an authoritative creed. The\nwritings of Wesley and Fletcher were referred to, but not as\nauthorities, but only as works to be consulted. I found on looking\nthrough the rules, that there was nothing to hinder me from becoming a\ntravelling preacher in this Body. I offered myself as a member, and was\nreceived. I was then sent out as a travelling preacher; and it is to\nthis Body chiefly that I refer in this work.\n\nI entered the ministry with the full understanding that I should have\nperfect Christian liberty both of thought and speech,--that nothing was\nrequired of any minister but a belief in the New Testament, a life in\naccordance with its teachings, and the abilities necessary to fit him\nfor his work. The perfection of the Scriptures, both as a rule of faith\nand a rule of life, was one of the first articles in the connexional\nlist of doctrines, and each preacher was left to interpret the\nScriptures for himself.\n\nTo show that the liberty I took in revising my creed was in full\nagreement with the principles on which the Body to which I belonged was\nfounded, I will give a quotation or two from the Founder's works.\n\n\"Subscription to all human creeds implies two dispositions contrary to\ntrue religion, love of dominion over conscience in the imposer, and\nslavery in the subscribers. The first usurps the right of Christ; the\nlast implies allegiance to a pretender.\" Vol. I, page 77.\n\n\"The revelation itself is infallible, and the Author of it has given it\nme to examine; but the establishment of a given meaning of it renders\nexamination needless, and perhaps dangerous.\" P. 78.\n\n\"I have no patience with those who cover their own stupidity, pride, or\nlaziness, with a pretended acquiescence in the unexamined opinions of\nmen who very probably never examined their own opinions themselves, but\nprofessed those which lay nearest at hand, and which best suited their\nbase secular interest.\" Vol. II, p. 340.\n\n\"I am seriously of opinion, and I wish all my readers would seriously\nconsider it, _that real Christianity will never thoroughly prevail and\nflourish in the world, till the professors of it are brought to be upon\nbetter terms with one another; lay aside their mutual jealousies and\nanimosities, and live as brethren in sincere harmony and love; but which\nwill, I apprehend, never be, till conscience is left entirely free; and\nthe plain BIBLE become in FACT, as it is in PROFESSION, the ONLY rule of\ntheir religious faith and practice_.\" P. 271.\n\nSuch were the sentiments which Alexander Kilham thought proper to\npublish on the subject of creeds.\n\nHe adds, that he did so for the purpose of \"giving to our people and\nothers _suitable views of religious liberty in general_, AND OF WHAT\nOUGHT TO BE ESTABLISHED AMONG US IN PARTICULAR.\"\n\nIn all I did, then, both in endeavoring to bring my views into harmony\nwith the teachings of Christ, and in suggesting reforms in the laws and\ninstitutions of the Body, I acted in perfect accordance with the\nprinciples on which the Connexion was founded. Whether the principle was\na good one or not may be questioned: all I say is, it sanctioned my\ncourse.\n\n_Explanation Second. Immoralities._\n\nWhat I say of immoralities in ministers and members of the Church refers\nchiefly to ministers and members of the New Connexion. I must not\nhowever be understood as saying that the ministers and members of the\nOld Connexion were free from such vices. They were not. James Etchells,\nthe minister who drank sixteen glasses of intoxicating drinks on one\nround of pastoral calls, and John Farrar, his superintendent, whom he\ngot suspended for drunkenness, and Richard Wilson, who opened the first\nspirit shop in my native town, and corrupted the people all round the\ncountry, and Timothy Bentley, the great Brewer and Poisoner-General of\nthe bodies and souls of the Yorkshire people, and John Falkener, of New\nCastle-on-Tyne, the wholesale Beershop-Keeper, &c., were all members and\nhigh officials in the Wesleyan Body. And I never heard of a man being\neither kept out or put out of the Wesleyan Connexion either for being a\nBrewer, a Distiller, a Spirit Merchant, a Ginshop Keeper, a Publican, a\nPawnbroker, or a Beershop-keeper. And I never heard of the Conference\ndoing anything to promote teetotalism, or the suppression of the liquor\ntrade. The rules and teachings of Wesley, and the principles of Christ\non this subject, were as little cared for in the Old as in the New\nConnexion.\n\nThere were points though in which the Old Connexion seemed to me\nsuperior to the New. There seemed more hearty religiousness in the Old\nConnexion than in the New. The preachers in the Old Connexion seemed to\nbe a higher order of men, both in piety and intelligence. They seemed to\nbe kinder too to each other, less jealous, less envious, and less\ndisposed to annoy and persecute one another. And they worked harder.\nThey had more of the spirit of Wesley. They were less anxious to steal\nsheep from other folds, and more disposed to go out into the wilderness\nto bring in those which were astray. With many of the New Connexion\nmembers religion was too much of a form and a name: with an immense\nnumber in the Old Connexion it was a life and a power. Hence the Old\nConnexion prospered, while the New Connexion languished and declined.\nThe New Connexion trusted to their democratic principles of church\ngovernment for additions, and were disappointed. The Old Connexion\ntrusted to honest, zealous, Christian work, and succeeded. The Old\nConnexion, bred great and mighty men, the New Connexion bred weak and\nlittle ones. The New Connexion was afraid of superior men, and if any\nmade their appearance, drove them away, as in the case of Richard Watson\nand others; the Old Connexion welcomed such men, and used them, and\nreaped from their labors rich harvests of blessing. I might myself\nperhaps, if my way into its ministry had not been blocked up, have been\nmuch more happy and useful in the Old Connexion than in the New, and\nhave had a very different story to tell in my old age, from that which I\nam telling you now. I don't know.\n\nNo; I don't know. It is quite possible that I was so formed,--that\nreligious freedom was so essential to the soul God had given me,--that I\nshould have broken through the enclosures of any sect, and made for\nmyself a history like that which I am now writing. But speculations on\nsuch subjects are all vain. A man can live but once, and in one way, and\nall we can do now is to live well for the future,--as well as we can.\nGod help us.\n\nGod will help us. And we must not suppose that because we have not had\nthe lot which imagination pictures as most desirable, we have lived in\nvain. Let us look on matters in a more cheerful light. The world, and\nall our affairs, are in the hands of an all-perfect God, and always have\nbeen, and I am inclined to believe, that with regard to myself, He has\ndone all things well. I meant to do right from the first. I never\nwickedly departed from God. I erred unintentionally and unexpectedly. I\nerred seeking for the truth. I erred praying to God to lead me right.\nAnd I am inclined to believe that my course was not entirely of myself,\nbut was a discipline appointed me by a higher power, and meant to\nfurther some desirable end. So I will go on hoping and rejoicing,\ninterpreting God's doings as favorably as I can, and believing, that\nwhat I know not now, I shall know hereafter. And all the time I will\nrejoice in God's love, and sing Glory, Hallelujah.\n\n\n_Explanation Third. Christianity and Methodism not to Blame._\n\nDo not let any one judge of Christianity or Methodism, nor even of the\nwhole body of the Methodist Church, from the cases of immorality which I\nhave found it necessary to name. Christianity and real Wesleyan\nMethodism are as opposed to bad trades and bad deeds as light is to\ndarkness. And bad as things were in the churches to which I have\nreferred, a large portion, if not the great bulk of the members, were\nsincere Christians, fearing God and working righteousness. Nor were all\nthe preachers bad-hearted or cruel men. It often happens that a few\ncontrol the many. And the ruling few are often worse than the many whom\nthey rule. The least worthy members of the church are often, like\nDiotrephes, eager for the pre-eminence, while the best are modest and\nretiring. It is not always the cream that comes to the top, either in\ncivil or religious society; it is sometimes the scum. And my readers\nmust take these things into account while reading my story. The early\nMethodist churches were blessed organizations, bitterly as Wesley and\nFletcher lamented their shortcomings and backslidings. With all their\nfaults they were the lights of the world, and the salt of the earth.\nThey are so still. They were so in the days of which I write. And the\nsame may be said of other churches. They fall very far short of the\nperfection of Christian knowledge and holiness, but they are as far in\nadvance of a godless world, as Christianity is in advance of them. I\nthink it no objection to Christians or to Christian churches that they\ndo not at once embody and exemplify Christian truth and virtue in all\ntheir fullness, any more than I think it an objection to men of science\nand scientific associations that they do not know and set forth all the\nlaws of the material universe. Men are finite, while Nature and\nChristianity are infinite. Christianity will always be ahead of\nchurches, and nature will always be ahead of science, as God will always\nbe ahead of man. I would have churches and ministers improve, and I\nwould tell them of their faults and shortcomings that they may see where\nimprovement is wanted, but I would not on any account do them injustice,\nor give countenance to the infidel slander that the church is worse than\nthe godless world, or a twentieth part as bad.\n\nAnd though I would explain how unhappily I was influenced by the errors\nand misdoings of my brethren, that I may make my apostacy from Christ\nintelligible, I have no desire to make the impression that all with whom\nI came in uncomfortable collision were great sinners, while I was a meek\nand faultless saint. I know the contrary. There were errors and failings\non both sides. I may sometimes think 'I was more sinned against than\nsinning,' but at other times I am ashamed and confounded at my great and\ngrievous errors. God forgive me. I was dreadfully tried at times by my\nbrethren; but my brethren were tried by me at other times past all\nendurance. God only knows which was most to blame; but I was bad enough.\nIf either I or my brethren had been as wise and good as men should\nstrive to be, both they and I might have had a very different story to\ntell; a story much more agreeable to our readers and much more\ncreditable to ourselves. But the past is past, and my brethren, most of\nthem, have gone to judgment, and I am hastening after; and it behooves\nme to tell as fair a story, and to tell it in as meek and lowly and\nloving a spirit as possible. And I here declare, that if any expression\nof bitterness, or any statement savoring of harshness or injustice,\nescapes my lips, I wish it softened, and brought into harmony with\nperfect truth and charity.\n\nIt is very difficult, when a man is giving an account of his life, to be\nstrictly just and impartial. Perhaps it is impossible. It is very\ndifficult, when he is telling of his trials, to keep from all\nexpressions of strong and unpleasant feeling towards those whom he\nregards as the causes of his trials. Perhaps this also is impossible. My\nreaders must consider this, and make allowances both for me and my\nbrethren.\n\nAnd both my readers and I must try to bear in mind, that men are not the\nsole actors in the pitiable blunders and melancholy tragedies of their\nlives. God had to do with the descent of Joseph into Egypt. His brethren\nwere the visible actors, but a Great Invisible Actor directed and\ncontrolled their doings. Our ignorance and our vices are our own, but\nthe form they take in action, and the effects they produce, are God's.\nShimei's wickedness was his own, but it was God that caused it to show\nitself in throwing stones at David. All our trials are, in truth, from\nGod, and it would be well for us to regard them in that light. And we\nought no more to be malignantly resentful towards the men whom God makes\nuse of to try us, than we ought to murmur against God. We should try to\ngo through all with the meek and quiet spirit with which Jesus went\nthrough the still greater trials that lay in His path. And in speaking\nof our trials, we should try to exhibit the sweet forgiving temper that\nshines out so gloriously in the life and death of the Redeemer. And if\nwe can go a step farther, and rejoice in tribulation, and smile in\npeaceful tranquility at the erring but divinely guided actors in our\ntrials, so much the better. And if we can believe that all things work\ntogether for good not only to them that love God, but even to those who\nfor a time are unwittingly separated from God, why should we not\n'rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks?' My gracious God, I\nknow that there are expressions in this book that might have been\nbetter,--that feelings sometimes show themselves that are not the\nperfection of Christian love and meekness; and I ask Thee in Thy mercy\nto forgive them all: And I pray Thee so to influence my soul for the\ntime to come, and to enable me so to use my tongue and pen, that all I\nsay and write may savor of Jesus, be in agreement with my Christian\nprofession, and tend to the instruction and spiritual improvement of my\nhearers and readers.\n\n\n_Explanation Fourth. My Own Defects._\n\nMy character was very defective in my early days. I have felt this a\nhundred times while I have been writing and revising the foregoing\npages. I was wanting in humility. There were some kinds of pride from\nwhich I was probably free; but there were others of which I had more\nthan my share. And I was lacking in meekness. I could control myself and\nkeep quite calm in a public debate; but could be angry and resentful in\nother cases. I was not sufficiently forbearing. I was not sufficiently\nforgiving.\n\nAnd I was too critical, too pugnacious, too controversial. I was too\nmuch in the habit of looking for defects in what I heard and read;\ndefects in style; errors in thought; mistakes in reasoning; faults in\narrangement; and improprieties in manner and spirit.\n\nConsidering that I was to a great extent self-taught, that much that I\nlearned I learned after I had become almost a man, this perhaps was\nnatural; but it was a disadvantage. It would have been better if I had\nsought only for the true, the good, the beautiful in what I heard, and\nread, and saw. I ought, perhaps, instead of exercising my critical\npowers on others, to have contented myself with exercising them on my\nown character and performances, and with endeavoring in all things to\nset an example of what was worthy of imitation. It may be that I was\n_naturally_, _constitutionally_ critical; but that does not make it\nright or wise. I ought to have warred with my constitutional\npropensities, and to have kept my critical tendencies within the bounds\nof prudence and charity.\n\nBut this wisdom was too high for me in my early days, and I fear that\nwhile I was pressing attention to practical matters on others, I was\nmyself too much busied in doctrinal matters. I was too zealous _against_\ncertain doctrines while rebuking others for being too zealous _for_\nthem. While they were too doctrinal and controversial positively, I was\ntoo doctrinal and controversial negatively. They erred in going too far;\nI was too zealous in pushing them back.\n\nIn many things my enemies were wrong: but there were other things in\nwhich I was not right. They were very foolish; and I was far from wise.\nI see it, I feel it all, and I lament it too. And still I feel the\nremains of my old defects and vices clinging to me. I have still great\nneed of the mercy of God, and of the forbearance and kind consideration\nof my brethren. God help me, if it be not too late, to improve both in\nwisdom and in Christian virtue. My Gracious God, it is Thy wish that Thy\npeople 'should be conformed to the image of Thy Son, that He might be\nthe first-born among many brethren.' Oh, if I could but approach that\npoint, and be worthy to take some humble place as a brother of that\nglorious embodiment of all moral and spiritual excellence, what would I\nnot give,--what would I not do! If it be possible,\n\n     Make me, by thy transforming love,\n       Dear Saviour, daily more like Thee.\n\nAnd while the blessed process of transformation is going on, keep me, O\nThou Friend and Saviour of mankind, from every evil word and deed, and\nfrom every great and grievous error.\n\n\n_Explanation Fifth. Theology and Theologians._\n\nIf any think I have been too severe in my remarks on theology and\ntheologians, and on the preachers who mock their hearers with\ntheological vanities, and puzzle them with their senseless theological\ndialect, let them read the remarks of the Rev. Joseph Parker, D. D., G.\nGilfillan, Albert Barnes, John Wesley, Richard Baxter, and others on\nthis subject. Quotations from their writings may be found farther on in\nthe volume. We would give a few of their remarks here, but we must now\nhasten on with our story.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nTHE STORY CONTINUED. WHAT FOLLOWED EXPULSION. DESPERATE WORD FIGHTING.\nABUSE.\n\n\nI was expelled on a Saturday afternoon. I was unable to stay till the\nclosing scene, as I had an engagement to preach anniversary sermons on\nthe Sunday, some thirty miles away. But the news soon reached me, and I\nreceived it with strange and indescribable emotions. I felt that\nsomething very important had happened,--that I was placed in a new and\nserious position, and was entering on a new and untried way of life; but\nI little dreamt what the results would be. I expected an eventful\nfuture, but not the kind of future that was really waiting for me. I\nanticipated trials, and sorrows, and great changes; but how strangely\ndifferent the realities have proved from what I anticipated in my\nfevered dreams! But I had strong faith in God, and a firm trust in His\nall-perfect Providence, and no one saw me tremble or turn pale.\n\nI had not been expelled long when I found myself face to face with a\nterrible host of trials. Some who had promised to stand by my side took\nfright, and left me to my fate. Some found their interests were\nendangered by their attachment to me, and fell away. Some were\ninfluenced by the threats of their masters, and some by the tears and\nentreaties of their kindred, and reluctantly joined the ranks of my\nenemies. Some thought I should have yielded a point or two, and were\nvexed at what they called my obstinacy. There were fearful and\nmelancholy changes. People who had always heretofore received me with\nsmiles of welcome, now looked cold and gloomy. Some raged, some wept,\nand some embraced me with unspeakable tenderness; while some wished me\ndead, and said it had been better for me if I had never been born.\n\nOne man, a person of considerable influence, who had encouraged me in my\nmovements, and joined me in lamenting the shortcomings of the Connexion,\nand in condemning the conduct of my opponents, no sooner saw that I was\ndoomed, than he sent me a most unfeeling letter. I met the postman and\ngot the letter in the street, and read it as I walked along. It pained\nme terribly, but it comforted me to think that it had not fallen into\nthe hands of my delicate and sensitive wife. That no other eye might see\nit, and no other soul be afflicted with the treachery and cruelty of the\nwriter, I tore it in pieces, and threw it into the Tyne, and kept the\nmatter a secret from those whose souls it might have shocked too rudely\nfor endurance.\n\nAnother man, who had said to me a short time before my expulsion, that\nwhoever else might close their doors against me, his would always be\nopen, proved as faithless as the basest. I called one day at his shop.\nAs soon as he saw me, he turned away his eyes, and stood motionless and\nspeechless behind the counter, as if agitated with painful and\nunutterable passion. I saw his family move hurriedly from the room\nbehind the shop to another room, as if afraid lest I should step forward\ninto their presence. The man kept his door open sure enough, his _shop_\ndoor; but his heart was closed, and he never spoke to me more as long as\nhe lived.\n\nOne day I went with a brother of mine to the house of a tradesman near\nGateshead, a member and a leading man in the New Connexion, on a matter\nof business. As soon as the person saw me, he began to abuse me in a\nvery extravagant manner. I had always had a favorable opinion of the\nman, and I quietly answered, \"I can excuse your severity; for you no\ndoubt are acting conscientiously.\" \"That is more than I believe you are\ndoing,\" he answered, and turned away.\n\nThere was great excitement throughout the whole Connexion. And while\nmany were transported with rage, great numbers took my part. The feeling\nin my favor was both strong and very general. One-third of the whole\nConnexion probably separated from my opponents, and formed themselves\ninto a new society. Several ministers joined them, and had not the\nchapels been secured to the Conference, it is probable that the greater\nportion of the community would have seceded. As it was, the existence of\nthe Body seemed in peril, and the leaders found it necessary to strain\nevery nerve to save it from utter destruction.\n\nAnd they were not particular as to the means they used. Before my\nexpulsion even my enemies had considered me a virtuous, godly man, and\nacknowledged me to be a most laborious and successful minister. Now they\nfabricated and circulated all manner of slanderous reports respecting\nme. One day they gave it out that I had broken my teetotal pledge, and\nhad been taken up drunk out of the gutter, and wheeled home in a\nwheelbarrow. Then it was discovered that I had not broken my pledge, but\nI had been seen nibbling a little Spanish juice, so it was said I was\neating opium, and killing myself as fast as the poison could destroy me.\n\nAt another time it was said I had gone stark mad, and had been smothered\nto death between two beds. A friend came, pale and dismally sorrowful,\nto condole with my wife on the dreadful catastrophe, and was himself\nalmost mad with delight when he found that I was in the parlor writing,\nas well and as sane as usual.\n\nThen it was reported that I had applied for a place in the ministry\namong the Calvinists, though I had up to that time professed views at\nvariance with Calvinism, and had even objected to be a hired minister.\nWhen I called for the names of the parties to whom I had made the offer,\nand engaged to give a large reward if my slanderers would produce them,\nthey found it was another Joseph that had applied for the place, and not\nJoseph Barker. But the death of one slander seemed to be the birth of\ntwo or three fresh ones. And sometimes opposite slanders sprang up\ntogether. \"If he had been a good man,\" said one, \"he would have stopped\nin the Connexion quietly, and waited for reform!\" \"If he had been an\nhonest man,\" said another, \"he would have left the Connexion long ago,\nand not remained in a community that he thought in error.\" I had been\n\"too hasty\" for one, and \"too slow\" for another. One wrote to assure me\nthat I should die a violent death in less than eighteen months. Another\nsaid he foresaw me lying on my death-bed, with Satan sitting on my\nbreast, ready to carry away my soul to eternal torments. One sent me a\nnumber of my pamphlets blotted and torn, packed up with a piece of wood,\nfor the carriage of which I was charged from four to five shillings.\nAnother sent me a number of my publications defaced in another way,\nwith offensive enclosures that do not admit of description.\n\nAt one time it was reported that I had died suddenly at Leeds. \"After\nlecturing there one night,\" the story said, \"a certain person got upon\nthe platform to oppose me, and I was so frightened, that I first turned\npale, then fainted, and in two hours breathed my last.\" I was preaching\nat Penrith, in Cumberland, some seventy or eighty miles away, at the\ntime I was said to have died at Leeds.\n\nSome weeks later it was rumored that I had destroyed myself at Otley.\nThe maker of the tale in this case had been very particular, and given\nhis story the appearance of great truthfulness. He said I had gone to\nlecture at Otley, and on my arrival there, was found to be more than\nusually thoughtful and depressed. I lectured with my usual freedom and\npower, but seemed oppressed with some mysterious sorrow. After the\nlecture, instead of going along with my host, I unaccountably\ndisappeared, and though my friends sought for me and inquired for me all\nabout the town, I was nowhere to be found. In the morning, as the son of\nmy host was seeking for some cows in a wood on the side of the Chevin,\nhe found me dead and cold, with my throat cut, and the razor in my hand\nwith which I had done the deadly deed. The news soon spread, and my body\nwas taken back to Otley, where an inquest was held. The verdict was that\nI had died by my own hand, in a fit of temporary insanity.\n\nThese stories were printed and published, and circulated through the\nwhole country. They were shouted aloud in the street opposite my own\ndoor, in the hearing of my wife and family, during my absence. At first\nmy wife and children were terribly alarmed when they heard men crying,\n\"The melancholy death of Mr. Joseph Barker.\" But they got so used to me\ndying and destroying myself in time, that they took such matters more\ncalmly, especially as I always came again, and appeared no worse for the\nterrible deaths through which I had been made to pass.\n\nFor a year or two my enemies published a periodical called _The Beacon_,\nevery page of which they filled with malignant slanders. The loss of\nmembers exasperated them past measure. The danger which threatened the\nConnexion drove them mad. They took up evil reports respecting me\nwithout consideration. They looked on all I did with an evil eye, and\nrecklessly charged me with wicked devices which had no existence but in\ntheir own disturbed imaginations. One charged me with having acted\ninconsistently with my views with regard to the use of money, and\nanother with having acted inconsistently with my belief with regard to\nbaptism. Any tale to my discredit was welcome, and the supply of\nslanderous tales seemed infinite. They wrested my words, they belied my\ndeeds, they misinterpreted my motives, they misrepresented the whole\ncourse of my life, and the whole texture of my character.\n\nOne of the pitiful slanders circulated by my enemies was the following.\nMy custom was, when I went out to lecture, or to preach anniversary\nsermons, to charge only my coach fares, rendering my services gratis.\nFor eighteen years I never charged a penny either for preaching or\nlecturing. But the people of Berry Brow, near Huddersfield, said I had\ncharged them thirty shillings for preaching their anniversary sermons,\nand the Conference party took the trouble to spread the contemptible\ncharge through the Connexion.\n\nThe facts of the case were these: I had an engagement to preach\nanniversary sermons at Hanley, in the Staffordshire Potteries. The Berry\nBrow people heard of this, and as I had to pass their place on my way to\nHanley, they requested me to spend a Sabbath with them, and preach\n_their_ anniversary sermons. I did so, and charged them thirty\nshillings, about one-third of the expenses of my journey, taking the\nother two-thirds from the Hanley people. This was all.\n\nOf course such matters would not be worth naming, if it were not to show\nhow much there was in the conduct of my persecutors to give me a dislike\nto their character, and to prejudice me against their views.\n\nThat you may have an idea of my labors as a preacher, take the following\naccount of one week's work, when I was lecturing against the infidel\nSocialists, previous to my expulsion. I had preached three times on the\nSunday, walked six miles, and attended to several other duties. At half\npast ten at night I started by stage coach for Bolton, a hundred and\nfifty miles away. I travelled all night, and all next day, outside the\ncoach. It was winter, and the weather was very cold. About six in the\nevening I reached Bolton. At half past seven I began my lecture, in a\nplace crowded almost to suffocation. After the lecture, I had an hour\nand a half's debate. Between eleven and twelve I went to bed. I spent\nnext day mostly in writing. At half past seven I began my second\nlecture, with a congregation more closely packed than the night before.\nThe lecture was followed with a somewhat longer debate. This continued\nfive nights. On Friday night I got to bed about twelve. At half past two\nI started in an open gig for Manchester, twelve miles off. The morning\nwas very cold. There was a severe frost and a thick fog. At Manchester I\ntook the coach for Newcastle, and I rode outside all day, until half\npast ten at night. The Sunday following I preached three times again.\nAnd in this way I labored for nearly two years. I paid all my own\nexpenses. I also engaged and paid a person to preach for me, and to\nattend to my other duties in the circuit, during the week. If there was\na loss at my meetings I bore it myself; never asking any one for aid.\nAnd at times I had heavy losses. At Manchester once, after giving five\nlectures, I was eleven pounds out of pocket. At Birmingham I had a loss\nof thirty-seven pounds on five lectures. That was about the hardest week\nI ever had. My tongue got rather white. My food lost its relish. My\nthoughts kept me awake after I lay down in bed sometimes, and sometimes\nawoke me after I had gone to sleep. I caught myself drawing long breaths\nat times. Money came into my head at prayer, though none came into my\npocket. I did not even ask for that. I met with Combe's work on\ndigestion and read it, but it did not help me much, either in digesting\nmy food, or my heavy loss. But I made no complaints. I did not even tell\nmy wife till long after, when I was prosperous and comfortable again.\nAnd none of those who heard my lectures, saw in me any sign of\ndiscouragement. I lectured to my small audience as earnestly as if the\nvast amphitheatre had been crowded. And I paid the whole loss out of my\nown pocket, asking help from neither stranger nor friend.\n\nJust about this time Mr. Hulme, the son-in-law of my chief persecutor,\nset afloat a story that I was getting immensely rich by my lectures, and\ndemanded that I should hand over my gains to the Connexional funds. I\ncould hardly help wishing that he had been compelled to take one-half of\nmy Manchester and Birmingham gains.\n\nI never charged more than two-pence, I seldom charged more than a penny,\nfor admission to my lectures: but such were the crowds that attended,\nand such was the readiness of my friends in different places to help me\nwithout charge, that in nine cases out of ten I had a surplus. I had\nforty pounds in hand with which to pay the loss of thirty-seven at\nBirmingham. Besides, I sold large quantities of my pamphlets, and they\nyielded me a profit, though I sold my works eighty or ninety per cent.\ncheaper than my envious brethren sold theirs.\n\nAfter my expulsion I worked harder than I had done before. The following\nis only a part of one week's work. I preached three times on the Sunday;\ntwice to immense crowds in the open air. The time between the three\nmeetings I spent in talking, writing, and walking. I walked fifteen\nmiles. On Monday I wrote a lengthy article for my periodical, the\n_Christian Investigator_. At night I lectured to a crowded audience, and\nhad a three hours' discussion after. About one I got to bed. At five I\nwas up to take the coach to Manchester. At Manchester I carried a heavy\npack two miles to the railway station. I went by train to Sandbach, then\nwalked about twenty-three miles to Longton, carrying my carpet bag, and\nsome thirty pounds weight of books, on my shoulder. It was a hot day in\nJune. At Longton I preached an hour and a quarter to about five thousand\npeople in the open air, and had a lengthy discussion after. How I slept,\nI forget. I believe I was feverish through the night. In the morning my\nnose bled freely, and I was better. I walked six, eight, or ten miles\ndaily, carrying my bag and books along with me, and preaching, or\nlecturing and discussing, every night. I did this daily for weeks, and\nmonths, and years. And I never charged a penny for my labors. And I had\nno salary. I supported myself and my family by the sale of my cheap\npublications.\n\nYet one of the slanders circulated by my enemies was, as I said, that I\nacted inconsistently with my published views on the use of money. I\ntaught, as Wesley had taught, and as Jesus and Paul had taught, that a\nman should not lay up _for himself_ treasures on earth,--that money was\na trust from God, to be used in His service, for the good of mankind.\nAnd I acted on these principles. I did not lay up a penny for myself on\nearth. I employed all I received in doing good, hardly spending enough\non myself and family to purchase the barest necessaries. But my enemies\nfound I had placed fifty pounds _on interest_, in the hands of Mr.\nTownsend; and away went the charge of inconsistency, hypocrisy, and what\nnot, through the country. There was no inconsistency at all in what I\nhad done.\n\nIt was a principle with me, never to go into debt. And my plan was,\nnever to begin to print a book, till I had, in the first place, got the\nmoney ready to pay the expense of printing, and, in the second place,\nreconciled myself to lose the money in case the book did not sell. At\nthe time I placed the fifty pounds in the hands of Mr. T., I was\npreparing to print a book that would cost me thrice that amount. I did\nprint it, and paid the expense in cash, according to my principles and\nplan. I follow the same plan still: my printers like it; and so do I. I\nowed a dollar and a half at the close of last year. The thought of it\ntroubled me, not much, but still a little, during the watch-night\nservices at Siloam church. I had only owed the sum ten hours, and I paid\nit next morning, but still, the thought of the debt made the ending of\nthe old year, and the beginning of the new one, a trifle less happy than\nthey might have been, if I had been entirely straight with all the\nworld.\n\nIn some cases, when I went out to lecture, the leading ministers of the\nConnexion would come to my meetings, and exciting discussions followed.\nThese injured the Connexion still more, for I invariably gained the\nsympathy of the audience. On some occasions my enemies behaved in such a\nmanner as to provoke my audiences past endurance, and uproar followed;\nand the greatest coolness on my part, and the employment of all my\ninfluence, were necessary to keep the more excitable of my friends from\nresorting to violence.\n\nVery curious incidents took place sometimes, strangely confounding my\nopponents, and making the impression on my friends, and on myself as\nwell, that God had specially interfered on my behalf. On more than one\noccasion, when discreditable tales were told of me by my opponents, some\none in the audience who knew the facts, would rise and testify in my\nbehalf, and publicly convict my slanderers of falsehood. In one case, at\nDudley, Mr. Bakewell, who had always taken a leading part against me,\ncharged me before a crowded audience, with having baptized a child of\ncertain parents, at Hawarden in Wales, a hundred miles away, after I had\ndeclared my belief that it was improper to baptize children. He adduced\nsome testimony in support of his statement, which seemed to satisfy many\nin the audience that I had been guilty of inconsistency. What could I\ndo? I had nothing to oppose to his testimony and his pretended proofs,\nbut my solemn denial of the statement. Most happily for me, as soon as\nmy opponent took his seat, a lady rose, towards the farther end of the\nroom, with a baby in her arms. \"I wish to speak,\" said the lady. The\npeople near her helped her to step upon a seat, that she might be seen\nand heard to better advantage. \"_I_ am the mother referred to by Mr.\nBakewell,\" said the lady, \"and this is the child. Mr. Bakewell's\nstatement is untrue. Mr. Barker did not sprinkle my child. He only named\nit, and asked God's blessing on it. Here is my husband, and he can\ntestify to the truth of this statement.\" The lady stepped down and the\nhusband rose. \"I am the Richard Burrows mentioned by Mr. Bakewell. This\nis my wife, and that is our child. Mr. Barker did not baptize it. Mr.\nBakewell's statement is false.\" That settled the question. The feeling\nagainst my slanderer was tremendous. The people would not hear him speak\nanother word.\n\nIt had so happened that Mr. and Mrs. Burrows had been obliged to remove\nfrom Wales to the neighborhood of Dudley, and had just arrived at their\nnew home. Hearing that I was lecturing at Dudley, they hastened to the\nmeeting, and got there just in time to hear my opponent mention their\nnames in support of his charge of inconsistency. What could be more\nnatural than that I and my friends should regard this remarkable and\nhappy incident as a gracious interposition of Providence in our behalf?\n\nThe conduct of my opponents had a most injurious effect not only on my\nown mind, but on the minds of my wife and children. We came to look on\nNew Connexion Methodist preachers as some of the worst of men,--as the\nvery essence or embodiment of deceit and malignity; and our respect for\nMethodist preachers generally, and even for Methodism itself, was\ngreatly abated. The consequence was, we were prepared to move in almost\nany direction that would take us farther away from our old associates,\nand we all became, to some extent, anti-Methodistical in our feelings\nand sentiments.\n\nExciting meetings like the one at Dudley took place in almost every part\nof the country. The numbers attending them were so great that no room\ncould hold them, so that I generally had to speak in the open air. And I\nlectured almost every night, and often through the day as well; and\nevery lecture was followed with discussion. When opponents did not rise\nto assail me, friends rose to consult me, and our evening meetings often\ncontinued till nearly midnight. And I preached three times on a Sunday.\nAnd after every meeting there was a crowd of friends anxious to talk\nwith me, or have my counsel about the formation or management of\nsocieties. Some had heard strange stories about me, and wanted to know\nwhether they were true or not. Others had had discussions with\nopponents, and wished to tell me how they had fared. Some had been\npuzzled with passages of Scripture quoted by opponents, and they wished\nto know my views of their meaning. Some were sick, and wanted my\nprayers. Some wanted prescriptions as well as prayers, and I was obliged\nto be a physician as well as a preacher and reformer. Reports of cures\nwrought by my means led many to believe I had the gift of healing, and\nsufferers sought my aid wherever I made my appearance.\n\nWhile one-half of each day was taken up with talking, another half was\ntaken up with writing. I had hundreds of letters to write, and hundreds\nupon hundreds of all kinds of letters to read. I had, besides, a new\nperiodical on hand, for which I was expected to provide the principal\npart of the articles. And special attacks on me or on my views required\na constant succession of pamphlets.\n\nIn addition to my press of work, I had no small share of anxiety. My\nwife was greatly tried, and saw no prospect of a speedy end to her\ntrials. When expelled I was living in the preacher's house, and had the\npreacher's furniture, and many in the circuit considered that I had a\nright to them, and advised me to keep them, and set the Conference\npartly at defiance. I however refused to retain possession of property\nwith a doubtful title, and gave all up. And now I had not a chair on\nwhich to sit, nor a bed on which to sleep. And the little money I had\nwas wanted for the printers. My friends provided for me in a way, but\nnot in the way to satisfy an anxious mother. One child was taken by one\nfamily, and another by another, while I and my wife were accommodated by\na third. And one of the children was unkindly treated, and the rest were\nnot content; and no house could be a home to my wife which was not her\nown; and no condition could make her content while deprived of the\ncompany of her children. And I saw her heart was the seat of fearful\nconflicts.\n\nFor several months I went through my arduous and ceaseless labors, and\nmy varied and exhausting trials, without apparent injury to my health.\nAt length, however, continual excitement, intense thought, ceaseless\nanxiety, the foul air of close and crowded rooms, perpetual travelling,\nloss of sleep, lack of domestic comforts, unhealthy food, and trials of\nother kinds without end, so exhausted me, that I found it difficult to\nrise from my chair, or to steady myself on my feet. To walk was quite a\ntask,--a really painful one. I had a difficulty in putting one foot\nbefore the other. It was a labor to drag myself along. A walk of two or\nthree miles quite wearied me. And when I got to my journey's end, my\nlungs lacked power to utter words; my brain lacked energy to supply\nthoughts; and lecturing and preaching became a weariness. When I sat\ndown to write, my pen seemed reluctant to touch the paper. My mind\nshrank back from its task. In my ignorance of the laws of life, I\ncharged myself with idleness, and tried to spur myself on to renewed\nactivity. The attempt was vain. One afternoon I ventured to lie down and\ntreat myself to an after-dinner nap. I slept three hours. I had no\nengagement that night, and feeling still unaccountably sleepy, I\nslipped off to bed about eight o'clock. I slept till nearly nine next\nmorning. I slept an hour or two more after dinner. At night I slept\nabout ten hours more. Next day I felt as if my strength was running\nover. I could do anything. My pen seemed to point to the paper of\nitself, as if anxious to be writing. Walking was a pleasure. I could\npreach or lecture without effort. Words, thoughts, and feelings were all\nat hand to do my bidding. What I had charged on myself as idleness, was\nstrengthlessness, the result of sheer exhaustion.\n\nI had suffered so much from the intolerance of my old colleagues, that I\nnow resolved to be subject to no authority whatever but God and my own\nconscience. And I kept my resolution. I would neither rule nor be ruled.\nThe extreme of priestly tyranny, from which I had suffered so\ngrievously, had begotten in me the extreme of religious license. I have\nseen since, that a man may have too much liberty, as well as too little;\ntoo little restraint as well as too much; and that a church without\nauthority and discipline must inevitably lose itself in confusion and\nruin. We are none of us fit for unlimited liberty: we all need the\nsupervision, and counsels, and admonitions, of our Christian brethren.\n\nAfter my separation from the Methodist New Connexion I became the pastor\nof a church in Newcastle, which had left the Connexion on account of my\nexpulsion. The trustees had legal and rightful possession of the large\nand nice new chapel there, and they and the other officials of the\nchurch were both dissatisfied with the doings of Conference, and\ndesirous to secure me as their minister. They were aware of my\nadmiration of the Quakers, and of my leaning towards some of their\npeculiar views and customs. They were also acquainted with my way of\npreaching, for I had travelled in that Circuit some years before, and I\nhad preached for them frequently while stationed at Gateshead. They knew\nmy character too, and were acquainted with all my conflicts with the\nruling party in the Connexion from which I had been expelled. And though\nthey did not think exactly as I thought on every point, they saw nothing\nin my views but what they could freely tolerate. They were satisfied\nthat I was conscientious; and they considered my general deportment to\nbe highly exemplary. And they knew I was a hard-working and successful\nminister. One of the leading members was a printer, and had been\nconsulted by the Annual Committee of the New Connexion in reference to\nmy communications to them about the publication of cheap books by the\nBook-room. They thought my statements were extravagant; he told them\nthey were very near the truth, if not the truth itself. This gentleman\nwas one of the most eager now to arrange for my settlement as a minister\nin Newcastle. The officers and members of the church generally were\ndisposed to consult my feelings and meet my views. They did not require\nme to be a hired or salaried minister. They knew the wants of my family,\nand they would provide for them. They would appoint a person to baptize\nchildren. They were not particular about theological niceties. They had\nread my writings; they were acquainted with the controversies that had\ntaken place between me and my opponents; and they were satisfied that I\nwas right on every point of importance; and that was enough. And they\nliked my simple, earnest, practical style of preaching. So everything\nwas comfortably arranged.\n\nWe united on the principle laid down in my article on \"_Toleration,\nHuman Creeds_,\" &c. The Bible was our creed: the Bible was our law-book;\nthough we were still, on the whole, methodistical, both in doctrine and\ndiscipline. Numbers of other churches were organized on the same\nprinciple, in various parts of the country; and several young preachers\nleft the body to which I had belonged, or were expelled on account of\ntheir attachment to me, and became their ministers. And the churches\nprospered. Numbers of people joined them, both from the world and from\nother religious communities.\n\nFor nearly two years things went on very happily at Newcastle, and the\nchurch was very prosperous. I labored to the utmost extent of my powers.\nI preached twice every Sunday to my own congregation, and once to\nanother congregation at Gateshead, or in the country. I visited the\nchurches also in every part of the land, preaching and lecturing\ncontinually.\n\nAll this time my old opponents continued their abuse. Though I\nrelinquished no Christian doctrine, and added to the truth no dreams or\nspeculations of my own, but employed myself continually in preaching the\ngreat practical principles of the Gospel, and in urging my hearers to\nlove and good works, they assailed me with the bitterest hatred. And the\nmore the churches with which I was connected prospered, the more\nfuriously my enemies raged.\n\nAnd when people left other denominations to unite with my friends,\nministers and members of those denominations joined my opponents in\ntheir evil work. They preached abusive sermons and published abusive\npamphlets. There was eager, angry controversy on every hand. Hard words\nwere used on both sides. The feelings of both parties were heated to a\nhigh pitch. And as is usual in such cases, both parties, under the\ninfluence of their passions, came to the conclusion that their opponents\nwere neither sound in doctrine, nor good in character.\n\nTowards the close of the second year I got into trouble at Newcastle. A\nreligious reformer of the name of George Bird came to the town. His\nfather was a clergyman in the Church of England, and he himself was\nrector of Cumberworth. He was recommended to me by some of my friends\nwho lived near Cumberworth, and as he was wishful to spend some time in\nNewcastle and the neighborhood, I took him into my house, and gave him a\nhome. He had published a book on the Reform of the Church of England,\nurging the abolition of a number of abuses, and recommending the\nrestoration of what he considered true Christian discipline. His idea\nwas, that Christians should meet for religious _worship apart_ from\npeople of the world,--that though preachers might _preach_ to mixed\naudiences, they should reserve their singing and praying, and all that\nwas strictly worship, for assemblies of Christians alone. He recommended\nthat the members of the church should meet first, in a place apart, or\nin a part of the chapel marked off for themselves, and go through their\ndevotions all alone, and that the sermon, addressed both to believers\nand unbelievers, should be quite a separate service. He had passages of\nScripture, and church tradition, and considerations of fitness and\npropriety, by which he recommended his doctrine, and to some they proved\nconvincing. I began myself, after thinking the matter over for awhile,\nto have a leaning towards his views. My friends could so far tolerate\nthe new views, that they allowed Mr. Bird to preach in their chapels,\nletting some one else conduct the singing and praying parts of the\nservice. But when they found that their own minister began to look with\nfavor on the new plan, they became alarmed. They could tolerate\npeculiarities in others, but they were not disposed to appear before the\nworld as reformers and innovators themselves. Nor would they allow their\nminister to go any farther in the way of reform than he had gone before\nthey had accepted him as their pastor. They had reconciled themselves to\nthe changes of which he had been the subject previous to his special\nconnection with them, but they would have no new ones. He might go back\na little if he pleased, but not forwards.\n\nBoth my friends and I were placed in a trying position. I was bent on\ncompliance with whatever seemed to be the requirements of the Gospel,\nand my friends, who had no misgivings on the subject of public worship,\nwere resolved not to tolerate a change. I kept the usual course as long\nas I could do so without self-condemnation, but at length was\nconstrained to change. One Sunday night I preached from the concluding\nwords of the Sermon on the Mount,--\"Therefore whosoever heareth these\nsayings of Mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which\nbuilt his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and the floods\ncame, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for\nit was founded upon a rock. And every one that heareth these sayings of\nMine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which\nbuilt his house upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the floods\ncame, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and\ngreat was the fall of it.\" I reviewed the sayings of Christ referred to\nin the text. I dwelt at some length on the passage about praying in the\nsynagogues and in the corners of the streets. The congregation was very\nlarge, and the sermon was unusually impressive. Some said they had never\nheard me preach with so much power. As I drew towards a close, I\nreferred again to the words on public prayer, and gave what appeared to\nme to be their meaning. I remarked, that I felt bound to comply with\nwhat I believed to be the command of the Saviour, and that I must\ntherefore decline to conclude the service in the usual way, by a public\nprayer, and request the disciples of Christ to retire to their homes and\nsecret places to pray.\n\nThe result was exceedingly painful. The confusion was dreadful. Some,\nwho had never thought on the subject before, and who had probably\nlistened to me that evening without comprehending properly my meaning,\nwere horrified. The officers of the church, who had accepted me as their\nminister in the belief that I should never try them by anything new in\nmy views or proceedings, were grieved beyond measure. One of them said\nto me at a meeting the following evening: \"You have committed a crime,\ncompared with which the sin of him who betrayed his Lord for silver, was\nhonor and piety!\" This, of course, was madness, if not blasphemy. But it\nhelps to show the fearful difficulties that lie in the way of the man\nwho feels himself called to be a religious reformer. And it tends to\nshow the tempest of excitement in which, for so long a period, it was my\nlot to live.\n\nThe result of this last step in my reforming career was, that almost all\nthe richer and more influential members of the church deserted me, and\nsome even of the less influential followed their example. This however\ndid not change my determination to do what I believed to be the will of\nGod. Nor did it dispose me to hesitate longer before making changes when\nthey seemed to be called for by the teachings of Christ. On the\ncontrary, it led me to resolve, that I would hold myself more at liberty\nto follow the revelations of truth and duty than ever. I blamed myself\nfor having accepted the situation of a regular minister, blamed myself\nfor having allowed myself to be influenced so much by a regard to the\njudgments and feelings of others. I felt a kind of pleasure at length,\nwhen I found the leading friends who had held me so much in check, were\ngone. I attributed their departure to my fidelity to Christ, and to my\ngrowing conformity to His likeness; and I resolved to labor more than\never to come to the perfection of Christian manhood, \"to the measure of\nthe stature of the fulness of Christ.\" I comforted myself with the\nthought that Jesus had been deserted, betrayed, and persecuted, before\nme; and felt happy in the assurance, that if I \"suffered with Him, I\nshould also be glorified with Him.\"\n\nI now resolved to speak and write and act more freely than ever. I would\nno longer keep my thoughts to myself till I was thoroughly convinced of\ntheir truth, but submit them to the consideration of my friends as soon\nas they assumed the appearance of probability. I would think aloud. I\nwould search to the bottom of all things, and make known the result\nwithout reserve. I would favor a free and fearless discussion of every\nsubject. And I would reduce to practice everything inculcated by Christ\nand His Apostles, however much at variance it might be with the customs\nof the Church. I would rid myself of prejudice. I would take nothing on\ntrust. Old things should now, at last, pass away, unless they were found\nto form part of the doctrine of Christ; and all things should become\nnew. And what I purposed, I did, to the best of my ability. I arranged\nfor meetings of the church, at which we sang and prayed, and endeavored\nto instruct and comfort one another, and provoke each other to love and\ngood works. When this church meeting was over, I ascended the pulpit,\nand addressed the public congregation. We changed the manner of\nconducting class-meetings, encouraging the members to read hymns, or\nportions of Scripture, or extracts from any instructive book, or to\nspeak to each other for comfort or improvement. I would be no longer\n_the_ teacher of the church, but only _one_ of its teachers.\n\nThat I might be able to support my family without the aid of the church,\nand so feel myself thoroughly free and independent, I resolved to\ncommence business as a printer. I bought a press, and type, and all the\nother requisites of a printing-office, and set to work. Elizabeth Pease,\na good kind Quakeress of Darlington, gave me thirty pounds to help me in\nmy undertaking, and others, nearer at hand, assisted me according to\ntheir ability. I engaged a man to work for me, and teach me how to work\nmyself, for I was quite a stranger to the business. I soon was able both\nto set up type and work the press, though the pressure of other work\nprevented me from excelling in either of those lines. Before long I had\ntwo men at work. But my workmen were not so faithful as they should\nhave been, and it cost me more to print my works myself, than it had\ndone to get them printed by others. I got a foreman, but he used my\noffice to carry on a business of his own, instead of doing what he could\nfor mine, and I was obliged to turn him off, and pay him a considerable\nsum to keep him from troubling me with a law-suit. A short time after, a\nvery unpromising-looking young man came and asked me for a place in my\nprinting establishment. He was hardly a young man, in fact, but just a\nhalf-taught random-looking kind of boy. I asked what he could do. To my\nunspeakable astonishment he told me that the place he wanted was that of\nforeman. I smiled, and looked on the poor creature as a simpleton. But\nthough he seemed a little disconcerted, he was not to be abashed. He\ntold me, that if I would give him a trial, he would let me see whether\nhe could manage the office or not. \"But how can you manage the men?\"\nsaid I. Nothing however would satisfy the poor boy but a trial, and I,\nunder some kind of influence, agreed to give him one. What the men\nthought when he took his place, I don't know; but they seemed to act on\nthe principle, that as I had made him foreman, they must obey his\norders; and obey him they did, and to my agreeable surprise, everything\nwent on in a satisfactory manner. The youthful foreman, who turned out\nto be a sensible, modest, hard-working, honest young man, did well from\nthe first, and improved every year, and remained with me, giving\nsatisfaction both to me and to my men, so long as I continued in\nbusiness.\n\nI had many fearful trials to pass through after I offended the leading\nmembers of my congregation by giving up singing and prayer at public\nmeetings, and a heavy loss entailed on me by the dishonesty of one of\nthose leading members was not the least.\n\nEver since the time when I first became an author, I had acted as my own\npublisher and bookseller, sending out parcels to my friends, keeping\naccounts, and doing the whole work of a Book-room. When I engaged to be\nminister of the church in Newcastle, and became servant of the\nnewly-formed churches all over the country, Mr. Blackwell, the printer\nreferred to on page 175, advised me to put the book-selling business\ninto the hands of Mr. Townsend, another leading official of the church.\n\"You have work enough,\" said he, \"and too much, in preaching, lecturing,\nwriting, and travelling, and Mr. Townsend can do the book-selling better\nthan you. He is a business man; he understands book-keeping; and he will\nconduct the business in an orderly and efficient manner.\" It had always\nbeen a principle with me never to go into debt, and I said to Mr.\nBlackwell, who was then my printer, \"If you will give me a guarantee\nthat no debt shall be incurred,--that you will never print anything till\nMr. Townsend has paid you for all work previously printed, I will agree\nto your proposal.\" He gave me his word that he would do exactly as I\nrequested. Mr. Townsend was accordingly made wholesale agent for my new\nperiodical, and for all my other publications, and all my stock of books\nwas placed in his hands. For fifteen or eighteen months I gave myself no\nconcern about matters of business, trusting to Mr. Blackwell to keep\nthings right, according to his pledge.\n\nMr. Townsend had another business besides my book concern, the china and\nearthenware business, and about eighteen months after my business was\nplaced in his hands, he went into Scotland to dispose of a quantity of\nhis surplus stock. He had only been gone a few days before word came\nthat he was dead. It then came out that Mr. Blackwell had allowed him to\nrun up a debt of nearly seven hundred pounds for printing. It also came\nout that Mr. Townsend was insolvent. He had been in difficulties for\nyears, and he had used the money he had received for my books to prevent\nhis creditors from making him a bankrupt. His journey to Scotland was\nhis last shift, and failing in that, he had taken opiates, it was said,\nto such an extent, as to cause death. The dreadful revelations that were\nlaid before me shocked and troubled me beyond measure, and I knew not\nwhat to do. Mr. Blackwell, through whose neglect or unfaithfulness the\ndebt had been incurred, exhorted me not to be alarmed, assuring me that\nhe should never trouble me for the money. So I set to work to gather up\nthe fragments of my property, and re-organize the business. I got in\nwhat money I could from the agents, and gave it, along with all I could\nearn, to Mr. Blackwell, to reduce the debt, though it was not in\nreality a debt of mine. I gave him also a sum belonging to my wife,\nwhich she had just received as a legacy. I gave him all that came into\nmy hands, except a trifle that I spent in procuring food for my family;\nand in eight months I had reduced the debt to two hundred and thirty\npounds.\n\nIt was while I was exerting myself to pay off this debt that I offended\nthe leaders of my congregation by giving up public worship. The person\nwho said that in doing so, \"I had been guilty of a crime, compared with\nwhich that of Judas in selling his Master, was honor and piety,\" was\nthis same Mr. Blackwell. When I began to print for myself, he demanded\nthe instant payment of the remaining two hundred and thirty pounds, and\nfollowed the demand by legal proceedings. A friend, Mr. John Hindhaugh,\nwho had heard how I was situated, and who had also heard that Mr.\nBlackwell had said that he would soon put a stop to my printing, went\nand paid the amount demanded, and brought me the receipt, and said, that\nif ever I found myself able, I might repay him the amount, but that I\nmust by no means put myself to any inconvenience. In course of time I\nrepaid my friend, and was once more out of debt.\n\nIt was just while tried by this sad affair, that I formed the resolution\nto throw off all restraints of prevailing creeds and customs, and enter\non a career of wholesale and untrammelled investigation and discussion.\nI was not in the fittest state of mind to do justice to the forms of\nChristianity in favor with the churches. On the contrary, the influences\nto which I had been long subjected, and the peculiar state of excitement\nin which I was still living, could hardly fail to carry me into\nextremes. No matter, I set to work. I printed thousands upon thousands\nof hand-bills, announcing a three months' convention and free discussion\nin my chapel, and had them posted and distributed all round the country.\nFree admission and freedom of speech were promised to all comers. Among\nthe subjects announced for discussion were, the Trinity, the Godhead of\nChrist, the Atonement, Natural Depravity, Hereditary Guilt, Eternal\nTorments, Everlasting Destruction, Justification by Faith alone, the\nNature of Saving Faith, What is a Christian? Trust in the Merits of\nChrist, Instantaneous Regeneration, Christian Perfection, the direct\nWitness of the Spirit, the Sabbath Question, Non-resistance, Peace, War,\nand Human Governments, Law-Suits, the Credit System, Toleration and\nHuman Creeds, the Church, the Hired Ministry, Public Prayer, Public\nWorship generally, Preaching, Sunday Schools, Freedom of Thought,\nFreedom of Conscience, Class-Meetings, and the Duty of the Church to its\nPoor Members.\n\nThe chapel was kept open every day, and every day, when not called out\nof town, I delivered one or two lectures on one of those subjects,\nstating my own views on the point, and my reasons for holding them, and\nthen calling on any one that might differ from me, to state his views in\nreply. The chapel was generally crowded, and the discussions were often\nvery animated. Persons of various denominations took part in them, and\npeople came from almost every part of the country to witness the\nproceedings. My principal opponent, for a portion of the time, was\nGeorge Bird, the rector of Cumberworth, who had inoculated me with his\nviews on public worship. He was very orthodox on many points, while I,\non some points, was leaning towards Latitudinarianism. We had, at times,\nvery exciting contests. Mr. Bird was exceedingly anxious to gain a\nvictory, both for himself and for his views. And he was not particular\nas to the means he employed to accomplish his object. He was very\nunfair. He could not, or he would not, refrain from personal abuse, nor\nfrom misrepresentations of my views and statements. I was severe enough\nin my criticisms, but I never was knowingly, and I do not think I was\noften even unintentionally, unjust to an opponent. I never charged\npeople with saying what they did not say, and I never forced a meaning\non their words which they were not intended to express. And if at any\ntime an opponent charged me with misquoting his words, or with\nmisrepresenting his meaning, I always accepted his corrections or\nexplanations. Nor did I indulge in personal abuse. Nor did I lose my\ntemper. I did my utmost to be just to all, and when I could not exhibit\nmuch esteem or love for an opponent, I tried to be respectful.\n\nThe records of those long-continued and strange debates are, I am sorry\nto say, lost. But while they were proceeding I drifted further away, on\nsome points, from the views maintained by orthodox communities. I am not\naware however that I went much further than Wesley went during the\nlatter years of his life. I found, not only in Scripture, but in the\nsermons of Wesley, and in the writings of Baxter, who was a favorite\nwith Wesley, what seemed to me fully to justify all that I had taught on\nthe great doctrines of Christianity up to this period.\n\nI gave up the _Christian Investigator_ at the end of two years, and as\ntwo of my friends were anxious to publish a periodical, I refrained for\na time from commencing another, to give them a better chance of success.\nI also helped them by writing for them, at their request, a number of\narticles for the earlier numbers of their work. Their attempt however\nproved a failure. The work contained a heap of Antinomian and\nMillenarian nonsense, and my readers had no taste for such stuff; and\nthe work was given up, and the Editors shortly after left me and my\nfriends, and joined the Plymouth Brethren, repaying me for my kindness\nby treachery and abuse. One of them published a tract when he took\nhimself away, exhorting my friends to be on their guard lest they should\nbe led by me into anti-christian error. Their conduct towards me\naltogether, as I thought, was unjust and dishonorable, and though they\nare now both dead, I can think of no good excuse for the way in which\nthey acted. But God is judge.\n\nI now laid aside the name of _Methodist_ and adopted that of\n_Christian_, and I commenced a new periodical, bearing the same title. I\nmade it, as I had made my other periodicals, the organ of my own mind,\nthe vehicle of my own thoughts on every subject of importance that\nengaged my attention. My writing was simply free and friendly talk with\nmy readers on matters in which we were all greatly interested. And the\nwork contains the history of the changes which took place in my views\nduring the period of its publication.\n\nWhile publishing _The Christian_, I published a multitude of pamphlets.\nIn answer to a pamphlet by the Rev. W. Cooke, in which I was roughly and\nunjustly handled, I published seven letters entitled _Truth and Reform\nagainst the World_, signing myself _A Christian_. In these letters I\nspoke with the greatest freedom both of myself and of my opponents, as\nwell as on a great variety of other subjects. I exposed a number of what\nseemed extravagant or unguarded statements made by my assailant with\nregard to the Scriptures. I also published a work on _The Hired\nMinistry_. My tracts on _Saving Faith_ and _The Atonement_ came out\nabout the same time. My aim in these latter publications was to free the\nsubject of Saving Faith and the doctrine of the Atonement from needless\nmystery, by separating from the teachings of Christ and the Apostles on\nthose points, the bewildering and mischievous additions of ignorant\ntheologians. I did not deny the doctrine of salvation by faith in\nChrist, but only showed that the faith in Christ spoken of in the New\nTestament was simply a belief in Him as the Messiah, leading us to\nreceive and obey His teachings, and to trust in Him for salvation. Nor\ndid I deny the doctrine of redemption or atonement; but simply\nendeavored to put what the New Testament said on these subjects in its\ntrue light. In most of those works, if not in all of them, there are\nevidences of undue excitement, and in many of them there are passages\nwhich, in one's calmer and more candid mood, one is obliged to condemn.\n\nI extended my investigations to all religious subjects, endeavoring to\nbring my views and proceedings on every point into perfect harmony with\nthe teachings of Christ and His Apostles. I also did my best, in\nconnection with my friends, to carry into practice in our church at\nNewcastle what we regarded as the New Testament principles of discipline\nand church government. The following were among our regulations:--We\nwould have no fixed payments. All must be given freely. There must be no\ncharge for admission to the church feasts. We would support our poor\nmembers. We would deal with offenders according to the instructions of\nChrist: first, tell them of their faults between them and us alone, &c.,\n&c.\n\nWe encountered many difficulties in our attempts to carry out some of\nour principles. Some, that were able to contribute, were too selfish to\ndo so, and left the expenses of the church to be met by the generous\nfew. They would eat like gluttons at the church feasts, but give nothing\ntowards paying for the provisions. Some seemed to enter the church to\nget supported in idleness out of its funds. This seemed to be the case\nespecially with a blind beggar. He spared no pains in making known his\nconnection with the church, and its generosity in supporting him, to the\npublic. This brought in a number of others who were wishful to be\nsupported. But many of these people, after joining the church, refused\nto work. It was plain that we must either give up the attempt to carry\nout our generous principles, or else adopt some method of testing people\nbefore admitting them as members, and some wise system of discipline and\ngovernment with regard to those already admitted. But we had said so\nmuch about unlimited liberty, that we could do neither the one nor the\nother without breaking up the church and building it up anew; and it\nseemed too late to do that. So we dragged along as well as we could.\nSome lost patience, and went to other churches. Some came to the\nconclusion that Christianity as laid down in the New Testament was\nimpracticable, and so became skeptical. Some kept aloof from all the\nchurches, but still retained their faith in Christianity, and their\nattachment to the principles to which we had given prominence.\n\nAt one period I lectured frequently on Peace. The Quakers aided me in\nobtaining rooms for my lectures, and supplied me with money to pay my\ntravelling expenses; and the Backhouses and Peases of Darlington, and\nthe Richardsons and others of Newcastle, contributed to the support of\nmy family. I met with some of the best and most agreeable people I ever\nknew, among the Quakers. Many of them were remarkably liberal and\nenlightened in their views, not only on religion, but on many other\nsubjects. I was astonished at the extent of their reading, and at the\namount of knowledge they possessed. And they had a wonderful amount of\ncharity towards other religious denominations. They believed the\nchurches were doing much good, and rejoiced in their usefulness, though\nthey could not always join them in their labors. I also found that in\ntheir dealings with each other, they were exceedingly conscientious. One\nFriend had recommended another, a lady, to invest her money in some\nmining speculation, which he believed was likely to prove profitable.\nShe did so, and lost her money, or received no interest from it. The\nFriend who had counselled the investment, took the shares, and returned\nthe lady her money. This, I believe, was not a thing by itself, but a\nsample of Quaker dealings with each other. I learned some useful lessons\nfrom the Quakers, and I received from them many favors. I retain many\npleasant recollections of my intercourse with them, and expect to think\nof them with pleasure to my dying day.\n\nAfter I ceased to receive a salary for preaching, I and my family were\noften in straits, and at times we seemed on the very verge of\nstarvation. My printing business did not pay its own expenses at first,\nand for several years after it began to yield a profit, the profit was\nrequired for new presses, new type, or had to lie dead in the shape of\nincreased stock of publications. And I had no income from property. Yet\nin every case when we seemed to be reduced to extremities, supplies came\nfrom some quarter or other. Sometimes I knew the hand by which\nassistance was sent, but at other times my benefactors remained unknown.\nThere was one good Christian, John Donaldson, who was always ready with\nhis help. He not only aided me by many gifts, but busied himself to\ninduce his friends to send mo aid. He gave the first subscription\ntowards a steam press; and when the press was bought, he sent a sum to\npurchase the first load of coals to get up the steam, to put the press\nin motion.\n\nOn one occasion, while I was lecturing in the South, nearly two hundred\nmiles away from home, I failed to receive the supplies I expected from\nthe agents for my publications, and my family seemed likely to be out of\nprovisions before I could send them help. My wife and children had begun\nto feel uneasy and afraid. That day a man came up to the door with a\ncart-load of provisions. \"Does Mr. Barker live here?\" said the man to my\neldest son, who had answered the knock at the door. \"Yes,\" answered my\nson. \"I have brought you some things,\" said the man, \"some flour, and\npotatoes, and things.\" \"They are not for us,\" said the poor little\nfellow, \"my father is away.\" \"But this is Mr. Barker's, is it not?\" said\nthe man. \"Yes,\" said my son, \"Then it is all right,\" said the man, \"I\nwas told to leave them here,\" and he began to unload. Both children and\nmother were afraid there was some mistake, but the man went on\nunloading, and stocked the house with food for weeks to come.\n\nA day or two before, my wife and children had been talking to each\nother, and expressing their apprehensions, as I had not been able to\nsend them any money, that they would soon be without anything to eat.\nOne of the children said, 'Let us pray, mother: perhaps God will send us\nsomething.' They all knelt down, and both mother and children prayed:\nand when they saw the abundant supplies with which the cart had stocked\nthe house, they believed that God had sent them in answer to their\nprayers.\n\nI refused to buy paper, or type, or anything, on credit, and I was often\nat a loss, when my stock of paper was almost out, to know where the\nmoney was to come from to get a fresh supply. And I had not so much\nfaith as G. Mueller of Bristol; at any rate, my faith did not give me the\nsame pleasant assurances that I should receive what I desired, that\nMueller's faith gave him. I am inclined however to think that I had not\nso much trust in Providence, as I ought to have had. I certainly had not\nso much as I have now. But then, I am better off now than I was then.\nBut I was lacking, to some extent, in Christian trust in God, as well as\nin resignation to His will, and hence my uneasiness. Many a time when I\nlaid myself down on my bed at night, instead of going to sleep, I spent\nlong hours in thought about my business, looking in every direction for\na prospect of supplies to enable me to pay the wages of my men, and\npurchase paper. The first thing was to think of all the men that owed me\nmoney,--to consider which of all the number would be likely to send me\nremittances in time, and to reckon up the sums, to see if they would\nenable me to meet the demands upon me. The next thing was to do the same\nthing over again; and the next, to do it over again a third time. All\nthis was accompanied with long and deep-drawn sighs, which were listened\nto by a fond and wakeful bedfellow, who silently sympathized with me in\nall my trials, and who was as restless and anxious as myself. Sometimes\nI moaned, and sometimes I prayed; and when I was wearied out with my\nfruitless labors, I fell asleep. It would have been better, if I could\nhave done it, to have \"given to the winds my fears,\" and lost myself in\npeaceful and refreshing slumbers; for generally, on the following\nmorning, the needful supplies arrived. They seldom came from the parties\nfrom whom I expected them, but they came notwithstanding.\n\nOne day, towards the close of the year, my stock of paper was very low,\nand I had nothing with which to purchase a fresh supply. Next morning a\nletter came, enclosing thirty-five pounds, a Christmas gift from friends\nin Ireland.\n\nOn one occasion, when I was unwell, a gentleman whom I had never seen,\nand whom I have not seen yet in fact, sent me forty pounds, to enable me\nto spend a month at some hydropathic establishment. He had read a number\nof my publications, and had been pleased with them, and having learned\nin some way that I was not well, had sent this proof of his kind regard.\n\nThere was one man in Newcastle, a wealthy man, who said to me, \"Come to\nme whenever you are in difficulty, and you shall have whatever you\nneed.\" I was often in difficulties, but hesitated to ask his help. One\nday, however, after having waited for supplies from other quarters as\nlong as I durst, I went to him, and stated my case. He kept me waiting\nan hour or more, and then said, \"No.\" I turned away ashamed and sad. A\nfriend whom I encountered on my way home, said, \"What is the matter with\nyou? Are you ill? You look bad.\" I was obliged to tell him my story. \"Is\nthat all?\" said he. \"We can soon put that right.\" And he gave me,\nunasked, as much as I needed.\n\nWhile we were struggling with our other difficulties, my wife was taken\nill. The house in which we lived was badly drained, or rather, the\ndrains being out of order, the offensive materials from other houses\nlodged under the floor of our cellar kitchen, and sent forth, through\nthe floor, deadly effluvia. In this cellar kitchen we were obliged to\nlive. I was so much from home, and when at home was so much in the open\nair, travelling to my appointments, and even when in the house, I spent\nso much of my time in an upper room writing, that I took no harm. It was\notherwise with my poor wife. She had to be in this room almost all day\nlong, and often till late at night. The result was a deadly attack of\nfever. She had felt unwell for some days, but had still gone on with her\nwork, and sought no medical advice or help. At length, as she was going\nto bed one night, she fainted on the stairs. The stairs were very steep,\nand the point at which she lost her consciousness was a most dangerous\none, and it seemed a miracle that she had not fallen back to the bottom\nand been killed. But somehow she fell only a step or two. My eldest son\nheard there was something the matter, and ran to see what it was. There\nhe found his poor, darling mother apparently dead, in the middle of the\nsteep and winding staircase. How he did it, I do not know, nor does he,\nbut though he was only a child of about thirteen years of age, he took\nhis mother, and by some mysterious means, carried her up the remainder\nof the stairs, placed her on her bed, and then stood sorrowing and\ntrembling till she came to herself. She was ill thirteen weeks. For two\nor three weeks she seemed on the point of death. On my return, late one\nnight, from one of my engagements, ten miles away in the country, I\nfound her strangely changed for the worse. She looked at me with a look\nI can never forget. She thought she was dying. I thought so too. Her eye\nsaid, Death; her whole expression said, Death. I burst into tears, and\ngave what I thought was my last fond embrace. She had power to utter\njust one sentence: it was an expression of tenderness and kindness, more\nkind and tender than I deserved; and then fell back on her pillow, as if\ngiving up the ghost. But she lived through the night, and she lived\nthrough the following day, helpless and speechless, yet still breathing.\nShe recovered, and remained with us to comfort and guide and bless us\nfor nearly thirty years, and then, alas, all too soon apparently, for\nthose who loved and all but adored her, she passed in peace to the\nworlds of light.\n\nI believed myself all this time engaged in the service of my Maker, and\nI regarded the arrival of seasonable help from time to time, as a proof\nthat I was an object of His tender care, and that my labors had His\nsmile and blessing. Why did I not trust Him more fully?\n\nBy the time I had carried on my printing business for four or five\nyears, the outlay for type, and presses, and other kinds of printing\napparatus, became much less, while my income from the sale of books\nbecame much greater, and I found myself able, at length, to purchase\nwhatever I needed as soon as I wanted it. By-and-bye I had money always\non hand. The relief I felt, when I found myself fairly above want and\ndifficulty, was delightful beyond measure.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nCONTACT WITH UNITARIANS, AND DOWNWARD TENDENCY TO DEISM.\n\n\nI had now for some time been gradually approaching the views of the more\nmoderate class of Unitarians. Some of my friends, when they saw this,\nbecame alarmed, and returned to their old associates in the orthodox\ncommunities; others got out of patience with me for moving so slowly,\nand ran headlong into unbelief; while the great majority still chose to\nfollow my guidance.\n\nTwo of my Quaker friends, who had aided me in my peace lectures, waited\nupon me and said, that it would be necessary for me, if I meant to\ncontinue to lecture in connection with the Peace Society, not to allow\nmyself to be known as holding heterodox views. I answered that I would\nnot submit to one hair's breadth of restraint, nor to a feather's weight\nof pressure; and the consequence was, the withdrawal of all assistance\nand countenance from the orthodox portion of the Quakers in every part\nof the country.\n\nThe Unitarians had long been observing our movements, and when they\nfound us coming so near to their views, they began to attend our\nmeetings, and to court our company. At first we were very uneasy at\ntheir advances, and shrank from them with real horror; but our dislike\nand dread of them gradually gave way. They were very kind. They lent us\nbooks, and assisted us with the loan of schools and chapels. They showed\nthemselves gracious in many ways. And after the cruelty we had\nexperienced from other parties, their kindness and sympathy proved very\nagreeable. I read their works with great eagerness, and was often\ndelighted to find in them so many sentiments so like my own. I had read\nsome of Channing's works before, and now I read them all, and many of\nthem with the greatest delight. I read the work of Worcester on the\nAtonement, of Norton on the Trinity, and of Ware on a variety of\nsubjects. I also read several of the works of Carpenter, Belsham,\nPriestley, and Martineau. Some of those works I published. I also\npublished a work by W. Penn, \"The Sandy Foundation Shaken,\" which some\nthought Unitarian. I came at length to be regarded by the Unitarians as\none of their party. They invited me to preach in their chapels, and\naided me in the circulation of some of my publications. I preached for\nthem in various parts of the country. I was invited to visit the\nUnitarians in London, and I preached in most of their chapels there, and\nwas welcomed by many of the ministers and leading laymen of the\nMetropolis at a public meeting. When my friends raised a fund to\npurchase me a steam printing press, many Unitarians gave liberal\nsubscriptions. Several of their leading men attended the meeting at\nwhich the press was presented, and took a leading part in the\nproceedings.\n\nI had not mingled long with the Unitarians before I found that they\ndiffered from one another very much in their views. Some few were Arian,\nsome were Socinian, and some quite Latitudinarian. Some admired\nPriestley, some Carpenter, some Channing, and some Parker. Some looked\non Channing as an old fogy, and said there was not an advanced or\nprogressive idea in his writings; while others thought that everything\nbeyond Channing bordered on the regions of darkness and death. Some\nlooked on the Scriptures as of divine authority, and declared their\nreadiness to believe whatever they could be proved to teach: others\nregarded the Scriptures as of no authority whatever, and declared their\ndetermination to accept no views but such as could be proved to be true\nindependent of the Bible. Some believed Jesus to be a supernatural\nperson, commissioned by God to give a supernatural revelation of truth\nand duty, and empowered to prove the divinity of His mission and\ndoctrine by supernatural works. Others looked on Christ as the natural\nresult of the moral development of our race, like Bacon, Shakespeare, or\nBaxter. They looked on miracles as impossible, and regarded all the\nBible accounts of supernatural events as fables. They were Deists. One\nI found who declared his disbelief in a future life. There was a gradual\nincline from the almost Christian doctrine of Carpenter and Channing,\ndown to the principles of Deism and Atheism.\n\nWhile in London I became acquainted with Dr. Bowring, afterwards Sir\nJohn Bowring. He was one of my hearers at Stamford Street Chapel, and\ncomplimented me, after the sermon, by calling me the modern John Bunyan.\nHe had been pleased with the simplicity of my style, and the familiar\nand striking character of my illustrations. He invited me to his house,\nshowed me a multitude of curiosities, which he had collected in his\ntravels round the world, made me a present of part of a skull which he\nhad taken from an Egyptian Pyramid--the skull of a prince, who, he said,\nhad lived in the days of Joseph,--he also made me a present of his\nworks, including five volumes of translations from the Poets of Russia,\nHungary, and other countries, and some works connected with his own\neventful history. Dr. Bowring was a member of Parliament, and he took me\nto the House of Commons, introduced me to a number of the members, got\nme into the House of Lords, and did all in his power to make my stay in\nLondon as pleasant as possible.\n\nAnother London gentleman who was very kind was Dr. Bateman, the Queen's\nAssistant Solicitor of Excise. He took me to several assemblies, at one\nof which, besides a number of the great ones of the land, I was\nintroduced to a New Zealand chief, a strong-built, broad-set,\nlarge-headed, lion-looking man. It was hinted that he knew the taste of\nhuman flesh, and was probably thinking at that moment, what rich\ncontributions some of the youthful and well-fed parties who were paying\ntheir respects to him, would make to a New Zealand feast. At one of\nthose assemblies there was a tremendous crowd, and I lost my hat, and\nsome body else must have lost his, for I got a magnificent and\nstrange-shaped head-cover, that might have distinguished, if not\nadorned, the greatest magnate of the land.\n\nDr. Bateman and Dr. Bowring showed me kindness in other ways, obtaining\nfor me and my friends large grants of books, contributing to the fund\nfor the purchase of a steam press to be presented to me, and inducing a\nnumber of their friends to contribute. I was also introduced to Dr.\nHutton, minister of Carter Lane Chapel, and preached and lectured in his\npulpit. And I visited the meeting-place of the Free-thinking Christians,\nwas introduced to the leading members of the society, and was presented\nwith their publications. I preached at Hackney Chapel, where I had\nWilliam and Mary Howitt as hearers, who were introduced to me after the\nsermon, invited me to spend some time at their house, showed me the\ngreatest possible kindness, and did as much as good and kind people\ncould do to make my stay in London a pleasure never to be forgotten.\n\nA meeting was called in the Assembly room of the Crown and Anchor, or\nthe city of London Tavern, to give me a public welcome to London, and a\ngreat number, the principal part, I suppose, of the London Unitarians\nmet me there, to give me a demonstration of their respect and good\nwishes. I spoke, and my remarks were very favorably received; and so\nmany and kind were the friends that gathered round me, and so strange\nand gratifying the position in which I found myself, that I seemed in\nanother world. The contrast was so great between the treatment to which\nI had so long been accustomed in the New Connexion, and the\nlong-continued and flattering ovation I was receiving from so large a\nmultitude of the most highly cultivated people in the country, that if I\nhad lost my senses amid the delightful excitement it could have been no\nmatter for wonder.\n\nBut it was more than I was able to enjoy. I longed for quiet. I wanted\nto be at home with my wife and children, and in the society of my less\ndistinguished, but older and more devoted friends. I fear I hardly\nshowed myself thankful enough for the honor done me, or made the returns\nto my new friends to which they were entitled. They must have thought me\nrather cool in private; but they knew that I had been bred a Methodist,\na plain Methodist, and had lived and moved among Methodists of the\nplainer kind, and never before been fairly outside the Methodist world.\nAnd some of them knew that I had not much time for pleasure-taking,\nsight-seeing, and the current kind of chat, or even the multiplication\nof new friends and acquaintances. They knew too that I had a business\nwhich required my attention, and a vast quantity of letters to answer,\nand parties calling for my help in almost every part of the country.\n\nI was happy at length to find myself at liberty to leave the metropolis,\nand my many new, agreeable and generous friends and acquaintances there,\nand return to quieter and calmer scenes, and more customary occupations,\nin the country.\n\nBut I never was permitted to confine myself within my old circle of\nacquaintances, and my old sphere of labor, after my visit to London.\nAccounts of my London meetings were given in the Unitarian newspapers\nand periodicals, and spread abroad through the whole country. The result\nwas, I received invitations to preach and lecture from almost every town\nof importance throughout the kingdom, and from many places that were not\nof so much importance; and many of those invitations I was induced to\naccept. I visited Bristol, and had a welcome there as gratifying and\nalmost as flattering as my London one. I was introduced to all the\nleading Unitarians there, and had a grand reception, and a course of\nlectures in the largest and most splendid hall in the city. And the\nplace was crowded. I visited Bridgewater, Plymouth, Exeter, and\nTavistock, with like results. And then I had calls to Yarmouth, Lynn,\nBridport, Northampton, Taunton, Birmingham, Sheffield, Hull, Manchester,\nLiverpool, Bolton, Stockton, and other places without number. And\neverywhere I found myself in very agreeable society, and in every place\nI met with real, hearty, and generous friends. It is true I met with\nsome who had little of religion but the name; but I met with others, and\nthat in considerable numbers, who really feared and loved God, and who\nwere heartily desirous to promote a living practical Christianity among\ntheir neighbors. These were delighted to see and hear a man who, while\nhe held to a great extent their own religious views, was full of\nMethodistical zeal and energy, and who had power to attract, and\ninterest, and move the masses of the people. They regarded me as an\nApostle of their faith. They believed the millennium of enlightened and\nliberal Christianity was at hand. They hearkened to my counsels, and set\nto work to distribute tracts, to improve their schools, to establish new\nones, to organize city missions, to employ local preachers, and to\ncirculate books of a popular and rousing character. And both they and I\nbelieved that a great and lasting revival of pure unadulterated religion\nwas at hand. And it took some time to dissipate these pleasant hopes,\nand throw the well disposed and more pious part of the Unitarians down\ninto the depths of despondency again. But the melancholy period arrived\nat length.\n\nYou cannot kindle a fire and keep it burning in the depths of the sea.\nAnd it is as hard to revive a dead or dying church, especially when its\nministers and schools are supported by old endowments, and when many of\nits most influential members have caught the infection of infidelity,\nand become mere selfish, flesh-pleasing worldlings.\n\nAnd this was the case with Unitarians. Many of the trustees, and a\nconsiderable portion of the wealthier members, cared nothing for\nreligion. Others had no regard for anything about Christianity but the\nname and a little of the form. Some had such a hatred of what they\ncalled Methodist fanaticism, that they shrank from any manifestation of\nreligious life or earnestness. And they had such a horror of cant, that\nthey canted on the other side. Their talk about religion was little else\nbut cant. Their talk about cant itself was cant. They had quite a\ndislike of any thing like religious zeal, and had a dread of any one who\nhad been a Methodist, especially if he retained any of his Methodistical\nearnestness. The word unction was a term of reproach, and the rich,\ninvaluable treasure for which it stood was an offence. They wished to\nenjoy themselves in a quiet, easy, self-indulgent, fashionable way, and\nhave just so much of the form and appearance of religion as was\nrequisite to a first class worldly reputation. They had no desire to be\nregarded as skeptics or unbelievers; that would have been as bad as to\nhave been reputed Methodists; but they would have nothing to do with any\nschemes or efforts for the revival of religious feeling in their\nchurches, or with any interference with the customary habits or quiet\nworldliness of their peaceable neighbors. Some, and in certain districts\nmany, even of the poorer members, were utterly indifferent, and in some\ncases even opposed, to any religion. In some cases both rich and poor\nhad become grossly immoral. Their churches had degenerated into eating\nand drinking clubs. The endowments were spent in periodical feasts.\nThere were also cases in which the chapel and school endowments had\nfallen into the hands of individuals or families, who looked on them and\nused them very much as private property. The schools and congregations\nhad disappeared, and even the chapels and school-houses were rapidly\nhastening to ruin.\n\nAnd there was everywhere a tendency downward from the Christian to the\ninfidel level. If churches do not labor for the conversion of the world,\nand endeavor to become themselves more Christ-like and godly,\ndegeneracy, and utter degradation and ruin are inevitable. And the\ntendency, at the time to which I refer, throughout the whole little\nworld of Unitarianism was downwards to utter unbelief. In many minds\nthere was as much impatience with old-fashioned moderate Unitarianism,\nas with old-fashioned Christianity or Methodism. They wanted preachers\nwho would openly assail the doctrine of the divine or special\ninspiration of the Bible, and the supernatural origin of Christianity,\nand try to bring people down or up to the pagan or infidel level of mere\nsense and reason.\n\nThe Unitarians required no profession of faith; so that deists and\natheists had the same title to membership as believers in Christ. They\nadministered the Lord's Supper, but they had no church discipline, so\nthat people defiled with the filthiest vices had the same right to\ncommunicate as people of the rarest virtues. Even the ministers were not\nrequired to make any profession of faith, so that deists and atheists\nwere admitted, not only into the churches, but into the pulpits.\n\nI was not aware of these things when I first became identified with the\nBody. It is possible that the Body was not so corrupt at that time as it\nwas after. Any way, at the time of my return from infidelity to\nChristianity, both deists and atheists were among the ministers. If any\nfind it hard to believe these things, let them read my pamphlet on\nUnitarianism, where they will find testimony from leading Unitarians\nthemselves, to the truth of these statements.\n\nWhatever encouragement therefore certain portions of the Unitarian Body\nmight give to a man like me, the influence of the Body generally was\nsure to render my labors of little or no avail. If the more religious\nportion of the ministers and members had been willing to come out from\nthe Body, and leave their old-fashioned buildings and endowments behind\nthem, they might have done some good; but this they were not prepared to\ndo. Many even of the better class of Unitarian ministers were fond of a\nquiet literary life. They were students, scholars, and gentlemen, rather\nthan preachers and apostles. They were too good to be where they were,\nand yet not robust, and daring, and energetic enough to make their way\ninto more useful positions. And their style of preaching was not\npopular. It never would have moved the masses. Indeed much of it would\nhave been unintelligible to the kind of people who crowded to my\nmeetings. They could not therefore have moved into my sphere without\nexposing themselves to want. If some one could have gone and helped them\nin their own work, in their own spheres, it might have answered for\nthem; but it would not have answered for them to come out and battle\nwith the rude, coarse, outside world. And even if good, earnest\nministers had gone to their aid, it would have caused a rupture and\ndivision in the church.\n\nMy labors therefore could do little more than rouse the better portion\nof the Body to a temporary zeal and activity, and transfer a number of\nmy friends to their communion.\n\nAnd I and my friends were out of our place, and out of our element, in\ntheir society. The earnest words we spoke were not 'like fire among dry\nstubble;' but like sparks falling into the water. Instead of us kindling\nthem, they extinguished us. The 'strong man armed' who had got\npossession of the Unitarian House, was _too_ strong to be overpowered\nand cast out by anything short of a miracle of Omnipotence. And that was\nout of the question. Christ can save individuals, but not churches. To\nmembers of a dead or depraved church his words are, 'Come out of her, my\npeople.' And there was, and there is, no revival, no salvation, for\nUnitarians, but by their abandonment of the Unitarian fellowship, and\ntheir return to Christ as individuals. So you may guess what followed. I\nhad got where it was impossible for me to do others much good, even if I\nhad been better myself, and where it was impossible for me to prevent\nothers from doing me most serious harm. I was on an inclined plane,\ntending ever downward, with all surrounding influences calculated to\nrender my descent every day more rapid.\n\nDown this inclined plane I gradually slid, till I reached at length the\nland of doubt and unbelief. My descent was very slow. It took me several\nyears to pass from the more moderate to the more extravagant forms of\nUnitarianism.\n\nWhen I first read the works of Dr. Channing, though I was delighted\nbeyond measure with many portions of his writings, I had a great dislike\nfor some of his remarks about Christ and the Atonement. And when I first\nresolved to publish an edition of his works, I intended to add notes,\nwith a view to neutralize the tendency of his objectionable views; but\nby the time I got his works into the press, those views appeared\nobjectionable no longer.\n\nI still however regarded portions of Theodore Parker's works with\nhorror. His rejection of miracles, and of the supernatural origin of\nChristianity, seemed inexcusable. And many a time was I shocked while\nreading his \"_Discourse on Matters pertaining to Religion_,\" by the\ncontemptuous manner in which he spoke of portions of the sacred\nScriptures. I was enchanted with many parts of the book; but how a man\nof so much learning, and with such amazing powers, and with so much love\nand admiration of Christ, and God, and goodness, could go to such\nextremes seemed a mystery. And I resolved, that if ever I published an\nedition of _his_ works, I would add a refutation of his revolting\nextravagances. Yet time, and intercourse with the more advanced\nUnitarians, brought me, in a few years, to look on Parker as my model\nman.\n\nWhen I first heard an Unitarian say, \"Supernaturalism is superstition,\"\nI gave him to understand that I did not feel easy in his company. \"You\nare right,\" said Dr. Bateman, \"Pay no regard to such extreme views:\npreach your own old-fashioned practical doctrines.\" This made me feel\nmore at ease. Yet the gentleman who spoke to me thus, as I afterwards\nfound, was himself on anti-supernaturalist. But he saw that I had to be\ndealt with carefully,--that I was not to be hurried or argued, but led\ngently and unconsciously, into ultra views. This was the gentleman that\nbusied himself more than any other in obtaining subscriptions towards\nthe steam press. He professed to like my supernatural beliefs much\nbetter than the anti-supernatural views of the extremer portion of his\nbrethren. And perhaps he _did_ like them better, though he had lost the\npower to believe them himself. But whether he liked them or not, he won\nmy confidence, and gained an influence over me, which an honest avowal\nof his opinions, and especially an open attempt to induce me to accept\nthem, would have rendered it impossible for him to gain.\n\nStrange as it may seem, I still retained many of my old methodistical\nhabits, and tastes, and sensibilities. My mind was still imbued to a\nconsiderable extent with true religious feeling. My head had changed\nfaster than my heart. And I still took delight in reading a number of my\nold religious books. And I had no disposition to indulge myself in\nworldly amusements. I could not be induced to go to a theatre, or even\nto a concert. I would not play at draughts or chess. I hated cards. And\nall this time I held myself prepared to defend, in public discussion,\nwhat I considered to be the substance of Christianity. An arrangement\nwas actually made for a public debate on Christianity about this time,\nbetween me and Mr. Holyoake. It was to take place at Halifax, and I\nattended at the time, and stated my views in two lectures; but Mr.\nHolyoake did not attend. He was prevented from doing so by illness, it\nwas said.\n\nSome of the publications which I issued about this time, in reply to one\nsent forth by the Rev. W. Cooke, led to a public discussion between me\nand that gentleman, in the Lecture-room, Newcastle-on-Tyne. Mr. Cooke\nwas a minister--the ablest minister--in the Body to which I myself had\nformerly belonged. The list of subjects for debate included the\nfollowing:--\"What is a Christian? What is the Scripture doctrine with\nregard to the Atonement? What is Saving Faith? What do the Scriptures\nteach with regard to Original Sin, or Natural Depravity, The Trinity,\nThe Divinity of Christ, The Hired Ministry, and Future Punishment?\"\n\nThe discussion lasted ten nights, and every night the room was crowded\nto its utmost capacity. The excitement was intense. And it pervaded the\nwhole country. There were persons present from places nearly two\nhundred miles distant. Hugh Miller, the Scotch geologist, was there one\nnight. As usual, both parties considered themselves victorious. And both\nwere right. Neither the truth nor the error was all on one side; nor was\nthe argument. Christianity was something different from the creed of\neither party, and something more and better. It was more and better than\nthe creeds of both parties put together. My opponent, though something\nof a Christian, was more of a theologian. He was committed to a system,\nand could not see beyond it, or dared not accept any views at variance\nwith its doctrines. Hence he went in direct opposition to the plainest\nteachings of the Scriptures, and the clearest dictates of common sense.\nHe found it necessary also, to spend a portion of his time in foolish\ncriticisms on Greek and Hebrew words, and in efforts to make the worse\nappear the better reason. As for myself, I was committed to change. I\nwas travelling downwards at the time, at a rather rapid rate, and was\nnot to be turned back, or even made to slacken my pace. The ordinary\nkind of theological vanities I regarded with the utmost contempt, and I\nhad come to look on some portions even of Christ's own teachings as\nnothing more than doubtful human opinions. I held to the great\nfoundation truths of religion, and to the general principles of\nChristian truth and duty, and, I will not say, defended them, for they\nneeded no defence beyond their own manifest reasonableness and\nexcellence,--but stated them both with sufficient clearness and fulness.\nBut neither party was in a state of mind to learn from the other. War,\nwhether it be a war of words, or a war of deadlier weapons, tends\ngenerally to widen the differences and increase the antipathies of the\ncombatants. And so it was here. And one party certainly went further and\ntravelled faster in the way of error after this exciting contest than he\nhad done before.\n\nAnd greater extremes produced more bitterness of feeling in my\nopponents. One man wished me dead, and said to a near relation of mine,\n\"If there was a rope round his neck, and I had hold of it, I would hang\nhim myself.\" And this was a man remarkable, in general, for his meekness\nand gentleness. Another said he \"should like to _stick_ me:\" but _he_\nwas a butcher. Another person, a woman, said, \"Hanging would be too\ngood for him: hell is not bad enough for him.\" There was one even among\nmy relations that would not speak to me; a relation that before had\nregarded me with pride. At some places where I was announced to lecture,\nmen organized and plotted to do me bodily injury, and in some cases they\nthreatened me with death. On more than one occasion I had narrow escapes\nwith my life. Once I was struck on the head with a brick, which almost\ntook away my consciousness, and came near putting an end to my life. On\nanother occasion I was hunted by a furious mob for hours, and had\nrepeated hair-breadth escapes from their violence. One man advocated my\nassassination in a newspaper, and the editor inserted the article, and\nquietly gave it his sanction.\n\nAll this was natural, but it was not Christian, nor was it wise. \"The\nwrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.\" Hard bricks have no\ntendency to soften a man's heart. These attempts to force me into\nsubmission made me more rebellious. They roused my indignation to the\nhighest pitch, and fearfully increased my hatred of the churches and\ntheir creeds, and made me feel as if I ought to wage against my\npersecutors an unsparing and eternal war.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nTHE BIBLE QUESTION. INSPIRATION, INFALLIBILITY. HISTORY OF MY VIEWS ON\nTHE SUBJECT.\n\n\nA PRAYER.\n\nHelp me, O Thou Great Good Father of my spirit, in the work on which I\nam now about to enter. Enable me, on the great and solemn subject on\nwhich I am now to speak, to separate the true from the false, the\ndoubtful from the certain, the important from the unimportant. And may I\nbe enabled to make all plain. And save me, O my Father, from going too\nfar. Let me not run to any extreme. Yet enable me to go far enough. May\nI not, through needless fear, or through any evil motive, be kept from\nspeaking anything that ought to be said. I am Thine, O my God; use me\naccording to Thy will, for the service of Thy Church, and for the\nwelfare of the world. I am every moment accountable to Thee; help me so\nto speak that I may be at peace with my own soul, and have a sweet\nassurance of Thy approbation. Fill my soul, O my Father, with the spirit\nof love, of truth, of tenderness, and of all goodness. Guide Thou my\npen, and control my spirit. Grant that I may so write, that I may do\nsome good and no harm. May Thy people endeavor to do justice to what I\nsay. If any one, through error or evil disposition, should do me wrong,\nhelp me to bear the trial with Christian meekness and patience. And may\nthe time at length come, when the religion of Christ, so full of truth\nand love, shall be understood and embraced by all mankind, and when by\nits blessed and transforming power the earth shall become the abode of\npurity, and love, and bliss. AMEN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt may not be amiss to state now, how far I had gone at this time, with\nregard to my views on the Bible.\n\n1. I remember a time, when I believed that the Bible in which my father\nread, came down direct from God out of heaven, just as it was. I looked\non it as simply and purely divine.\n\n2. I afterwards learnt that the Bible was printed on earth, and that it\nwas a translation from other books which had been written in Greek and\nHebrew.\n\n3. But I still supposed that the Greek and Hebrew Bible was wholly\ndivine, and that the translation was as perfect as the original.\n\n4. I next learned that the translation was _not_ perfect,--that the\ntranslators were sometimes in doubt as to the meaning of the original,\nand put one meaning in the body of the page, and another in the\nmargin,--that in other cases they had misunderstood the original, and\ngiven erroneous translations. I sometimes heard preachers correcting the\ntranslation of passages, and when I came to read commentaries and other\ntheological works, I found the authors doing the same thing.\n\n5. I then found that there were several translations of the Scriptures,\none by Wesley, one by Campbell, and others by other men, and that they\nall differed from each other, and that none of them could be regarded as\nwholly correct. When I read the Notes of Adam Clarke on the Bible, I\nfound that he often differed from all the translators, and that in some\ncases he differed from them very widely.\n\n6. I still supposed that the originals were perfect; that in them we had\nthe words of God just as they came from His own mind.\n\n7. But I afterwards found that there were several originals,--or at\nleast several Greek and Hebrew Bibles,--and that they also differed from\neach other to some extent, and that none of them could be said to be\nentirely free from error.\n\n8. I learnt from Adam Clarke and others that the printed Greek and\nHebrew Bibles had been compiled from _manuscripts_,--or from Bibles, or\nportions of the Bible, written by the hand, before the art of printing\nwas known.\n\n9. I also found that those manuscripts differed from each other, in a\ngreat many places, and that in some cases they differed on points\nsupposed to be of considerable importance, and that it was impossible to\ntell which of the manuscripts were most correct.\n\n10. I also learnt, that all existing manuscripts were copies of other\nmanuscripts, and that the real original books, the books written by\nMoses and the Prophets, and by the Evangelists and Apostles, were all\nlost, so that it was impossible to tell, with absolute certainty,\nwhether any of the manuscripts were absolutely correct,--that when the\nbest and ablest men on earth had done their utmost, there would still be\nroom for doubt as to the true reading, as well as to the correct\nmeaning, of various portions of Scripture.\n\n11. I next learned that there were differences of opinion among critics\nand divines as to whether certain books ought to have a place in the\nBible or not. In my father's Bible there were several books called the\nApocrypha. Some of these were very interesting. I used to read them with\na great deal of pleasure. And large portions of others, especially those\ncalled _The Wisdom of Solomon_, and _Ecclesiasticus_, seemed as good, as\ntrue, and as beautiful as anything in the Book of Proverbs. My parents\nhowever told me, that those books were not to be put on a level with\nthe other books of the Bible,--that there was some mystery about their\norigin, and that there was some doubt whether they were really a part of\nthe word of God.\n\n12. I afterwards learnt though, that they were regarded as part of God's\nword by the Catholics, and I continued to read large portions of them\nwith much satisfaction and profit.\n\n13. I also learnt from Adam Clarke and others, that there had been\ndoubts in the minds of some of the ancient Christians with regard to the\nright of some of the Epistles and of the Book of Revelation to be\nadmitted as parts of the Bible. And I afterwards found that the Book of\nRevelation was excluded from the Bible by the Greek Church, and by\nLuther as well:--and that Luther had but little regard for the Epistle\nof James, one of the finest portions of the whole Bible as I thought.\n\n14. I further learnt that some had doubts as to the right of Solomon's\nSong to a place in the Bible, and I found that even Adam Clarke did not\nbelieve that it had any spiritual meaning.\n\nAll these were facts; and I learned them all from Christian authors of\nthe highest repute for learning and piety. And so long as things went on\nsmoothly, they had not, so far as I can remember, any injurious effect\non my mind. But when, after having been harassed for years by the\nintolerance of my brethren, I was expelled from the ministry and the\nchurch, and finally placed in a hostile position with regard to the\ngreat body of Christians and Christian ministers, I began to see, that\nthose facts were incompatible with the views and theories of the divine\ninspiration and absolute perfection of the Bible held by my opponents. I\ncame very slowly to see this, and after I saw it I was slow to speak on\nthe subject in my publications; but the time to see and to speak arrived\nat length.\n\nOne of my New Connection opponents, by repeated charges of infidelity,\nand by statements about the Scriptures which I knew he could not\nmaintain, got me into controversy on the subject. Then I uttered all\nthat was in my mind. I showed that many of the things which he had said\nabout the Bible were not true,--that they were inconsistent with plain\nunquestionable facts,--with facts acknowledged by all the divines on\nearth of any consequence, and known even to himself and his brethren.\n\nWhile engaged in this controversy I made discoveries of other facts\ninconsistent with the views of my persecutors, and pressed them upon my\nopponent without mercy. And the violent and resentful feeling excited by\nhis unfairness, dishonesty and malignity in defending the Bible, led me\nprobably to be less concerned for its claims than I otherwise should\nhave been. Suffice it to say, I came out of the debate with my savage\nopponent, not a disbeliever in the Bible or Christianity, but with views\nfarther removed from those which he contended for, and with feelings\nmuch less hostile to heterodox extremes perhaps than those with which I\nentered it.\n\nAmong the views I was led to entertain and promulgate with regard to the\nBible about this time, were the following.\n\n1. We have no proof that the different portions of the Bible were\nabsolutely perfect as they came from the hands of the writers. The\nprobability is on the other side. For if an absolutely perfect book had\nbeen necessary for man, it would have been as necessary to _keep_ it\nperfect, as to _make_ it perfect. And as God has not seen fit to _keep_\nit perfect, we have no reason to suppose that He made it so.\n\n2. But in truth, to write an absolutely perfect book in an imperfect\nlanguage, is impossible. And all human languages are imperfect. The\nHebrew language, in which the greater part of the Bible was written, is\nvery imperfect. And it seems to have been much more imperfect in those\ntimes when the Bible was written, than it is now. And the Greek\nlanguage, in which the remainder of the Bible was written, was\nimperfect. And the Greek used in the New Testament is not the best\nGreek;--it is not the Greek of the Classics.\n\n3. And both Greek and Hebrew now are _dead_ languages, and have been so\nfor many ages. This renders them more imperfect in some respects: it\nmakes it harder in many cases to ascertain the sense in which words, and\nparticular forms of expression, are used by the writers. With regard to\nthe Hebrew, we have no other books in that language, written in those\nearly ages when the different parts of the Bible were written, to\nassist us in ascertaining the sense in which words were used.\n\n4. The writers of Scripture differ very much from one another both in\nstyle and matter, and their works differ greatly in worth and\nusefulness. Ezekiel is much more obscure than Jeremiah; and Jeremiah is\nless plain than Isaiah. Many of the figures, and some of the visions of\nEzekiel, seem coarse, and some of them appear unintelligible. And the\nmatter of many parts of Ezekiel's prophecies seems inferior to that of\nthe prophecies of Jeremiah and Isaiah. Some portions of Ezekiel are very\nvaluable; they are good and useful to the last degree. But other\nportions, whatever value they might have for persons of former times and\nother lands, have none, that I can see, for us.\n\n5. Some portions of Jeremiah, and even of Isaiah, appear to have little\nthat is calculated to be of use in the present day. Indeed some portions\nseem unintelligible. But many portions of the writings of both those\nprophets abound in the most touching, startling, and useful lessons.\n\n6. And so with Daniel and the minor prophets. The darkness and the\nlight, and things more useful and things less useful, are mingled in\nthem all.\n\n7. It is the same with the New Testament. Some portions of Paul's\nwritings are as plain as they well can be; others are very obscure,\nperhaps quite unintelligible. Some passages in the controversial\nportions of his Epistles to the Romans and the Galatians, and\nconsiderable parts of the Epistle to the Hebrews, are dark as night to\nmany; and I fear that those who think they understand them, are under a\ndelusion. And as portions of these Epistles were wrested by the\nunlearned and unconfirmed in Peter's time, so have they been mistaken\nfor lessons in moral laxity since. And still they are used by many as\nprops for immoral and blasphemous doctrines.\n\n8. And what shall we say of the Book of Revelation? Adam Clarke thought\nhe understood it as well as any one, yet acknowledged that he did not\nunderstand it at all. And though there are several passages that are\nboth plain and practical, and many that are most wondrously and\nsublimely poetical, and some few that are rich both in truth and\ntenderness, yet, as a whole, the Book is exceedingly, if not\nimpenetrably, dark.\n\n9. Some portions of the Old Testament history are given twice over, as\nin the Books of Kings and Chronicles, and the two accounts, in some\ncases, seem to be irreconcilable with each other. The numbers often\ndiffer, and some of them seem altogether too large. The accounts agree\nwell enough, and the statements are credible enough, as a rule, on\nmatters of great importance; but on smaller matters there are many plain\ndiscrepancies.\n\nSome other portions of the Bible, including two or three of the Psalms,\nare given twice over.\n\n10. Then who that reads the Proverbs attentively can help seeing, that\nsome of them are much plainer, and calculated to be much more useful,\nthan others. Many of them are rich in wisdom and goodness beyond\nmeasure; but others appear to have neither much of beauty, nor much of\nutility.\n\n11. And the Psalms are not all of equal excellence. Some contain\nterrible outpourings of hatred and vengeance. Many contain fierce and\nresentful expressions. And though these things were excusable in early\ntimes, and were, in fact, not wicked, but only a lower form of virtue,\nwe cannot but feel their great inferiority to the teachings and spirit\nof Jesus. But taken as a whole, the Psalms are miracles of beauty and\nsublimity, of tenderness and majesty, of purity and piety, of wisdom and\nrighteousness. They are a heaven of bright constellations; a world of\nglory and blessedness.\n\n12. The Book of Job too is a mixture, and to some extent a mystery, but\nit would be a great loss to the world if it were to perish. The\ntwenty-ninth and thirty-first chapters are worth the whole literature of\ninfidel philosophy a hundred times over. And many other portions of the\nbook are 'gems of purest ray serene,' and treasures of incalculable\nvalue.\n\n13. And even the Book of Ecclesiastes, while it contains many things of\na strange, a dark, and a doubtful character, has many oracles of wisdom\nand piety. It contains lessons of wonderful beauty, and of great\nsolemnity and power.\n\n14. There is a vast amount of wisdom and goodness in the laws of Moses.\nI say nothing of the laws that are merely ceremonial: but there are\nlessons of great importance mixed up even with them at times. Take those\nabout the Nazarites. Most of them are beautiful, excellent; and well\nwould it be if people even in our days would accept them as rules for\ntheir own conduct.\n\nThen take the laws which forbid the use of wine and strong drink to the\nministering priests. They are wonderfully wise.\n\nAnd even the laws about the different kinds of beasts, and birds, and\nfishes, that were allowed or forbidden as food, are, on the whole,\nremarkably philosophical. Considering the time when they were given, and\nthe people for whom they were intended, and the ends for which they were\ndesigned, the laws of Moses generally, are worthy of the highest praise.\n\n15. But Judaism is not Christianity. That which was the best for the\nJews three thousand years ago, was not the best for all mankind through\nall the ages of time. Compared with the religions and laws of\nsurrounding nations, and of preceding ages, Judaism was glorious,--but\ncompared with Christianity it is no longer glorious. Judaism compared\nwith Paganism, was a wonder of wisdom, philosophy, and righteousness;\nbut compared with Christianity it is a mass of rudiments, first lessons,\nbeggarly elements.\n\nHence several things contained in the law of Moses are repealed or\nforbidden by Christ; still more are quietly dropped and left behind;\nwhile other portions are developed, expanded, and exalted.\n\nAll these things, and a multitude of other things, have to be taken into\naccount, if we would form a correct and proper estimate of the Bible.\nAll these, and quite a multitude of other matters, should be borne in\nmind when we are considering in what terms to speak of the Book, and in\nwhat way to qualify our commendations of its contents. I do not believe\nit possible to praise the Bible too highly; but nothing is easier than\nto praise it unwisely, untruly. You cannot love or prize the Bible too\nmuch; but you may err as to what constitutes its worth. You cannot\nover-estimate its beneficent power; but you may make mistakes as to the\nparts or properties of the book in which its strength lies. A child can\nhardly value gold or silver too highly, but he makes a great mistake\nwhen he fancies their great excellency to consist in the brightness of\ntheir colors. And so with regard to the Bible. Its best friends and its\nablest eulogists can never think or speak of it beyond its real worth;\nbut they may fancy its worth to consist in qualities of secondary\nimportance, or in a kind or form of perfection which it does not\npossess.\n\nThe enemies of the Bible often speak evil of it ignorantly, from the\nmere force of bad example, as parrots curse: and the friends of the\nBible often speak well of it ignorantly, as parrots pray. They know,\nthey feel, they are sure, that the Bible is good,--that it does them\ngood,--that it purifies their souls,--that it improves their\ncharacters,--that it makes them cheerful, joyful, useful, happy. Yet all\nthe time they fancy, because they have been erroneously taught, that the\nblessed volume owes its comforting, transforming, and glorious power to\nsome metaphysical nicety, or to some unreal or impossible kind of\nperfection.\n\nWhen Christians attribute the sanctifying, elevating, comforting power\nof the Bible to the fact that it is divinely inspired, they are right.\nBut many do not stop there. They suppose that divine inspiration has\ngiven the Book certain grammatical, rhetorical, logical, historical,\nscientific and metaphysical qualities which it has _not_ given it, and\nthey even attribute its superior worth and saving power to those\nimaginary qualities.\n\nIt was against the mistakes and mis-statements of my opponents that I\nfirst wrote, and it was their ignorance, or their want of honesty and\ncandor, that gave me at times the advantage over them in our debates on\nthe subject. It was for want of seeing things in their proper light, and\nputting them in their proper shape before their hearers and readers,\nthat made their efforts to keep people from doubt and unbelief\nunavailing. They, in truth, made unbelief or infidelity to consist in\nsomething in which it did not consist, and made people think they were\ninfidels when they were no such thing. If they had given up all that was\nerroneous with regard to the Bible, and undertaken the defence of\nnothing but what was true, they might both have convinced the honest\nskeptic, and strengthened the faith of Christians. But they undertook to\ndefend the false, and to assail the true, and the consequence was, they\nwere beaten, and the cause which they sought to serve was injured.\n\nJohn Wesley says, that the way to drive the doctrine of Christian\nperfection, or 'true holiness,' out of the world, is to place it too\nhigh,--to make it consist in something that is beyond man's power. And\nthe way to drive the doctrine of the divine inspiration of the\nScriptures out of the world, is to give the doctrine a form which the\nScriptures themselves do not give it,--to change it from a truth into an\nerror,--to teach that divine inspiration produces effects which it does\nnot produce,--that it imparts qualities which it does not impart, and\nwhich the Scriptures themselves do not exhibit.\n\nAnd this is what many defenders of the Bible do. And this is one great\ncause both of the increase of infidelity, and of the confidence of its\ndisciples.\n\nIt is impossible to prove the doctrine of the divine inspiration of the\nBible, as that doctrine is defined by many religious writers. It is not\ntrue. And those who attempt to prove that the Bible is such a book, as\nthese false theological theories of divine inspiration would require it\nto be, must always be beaten, in a fair fight, with an able and\nwell-informed infidel opponent. The man who contends that the Bible is\nall that certain old theories of inspiration require it to be, fights\nagainst plain facts, and even his friends will often see and feel that\nhe has not succeeded. He may say a many fine things, a many good things,\na many great things, a many glorious things about the Bible, and they\nmay all be true: and he may say a many bad things, a many horrible\nthings against infidelity, and they too may be true. And his friends may\nsee and feel that, on the whole, he is substantially right, and that the\ninfidel is essentially wrong. They may see and feel that on the\nChristian side is all that is good, and true, and holy; and that on the\ninfidel side is a world of darkness and depravity, of horror and\ndespair. Still, on the one definite point, 'Is the Bible divinely\ninspired according to the theory of divine inspiration laid down by\ncertain theologians,' the Christian will be beaten out and out,--he will\nnot only be confuted, but confounded, dishonored, and utterly routed.\nThe Bible and Christianity will receive an undeserved wound, and\ninfidelity will have an undeserved triumph; and many a poor young man\nwhose leanings were towards the Bible, and who would have liked its\nadvocate to triumph, will be disheartened, distressed, embarrassed,\ndistracted, and perhaps undone.\n\nThe true doctrine of Scripture inspiration, or of Scripture authority,\nis about as applicable to the common version, and to honest Christian\ntranslations generally, and to all the manuscripts, and to all the\nprinted Greek and Hebrew Bibles, as it would be to the lost originals if\nthey could be recovered. There is divine inspiration enough in the\npoorest translation of the Scriptures, and in the most imperfect Greek\nand Hebrew transcript of them ever made, to place the Bible above all\nthe books on earth, as a means of enlightening, regenerating,\ncomforting, and saving mankind. But in none of its forms is the Bible so\ninspired, as to make it what the unauthorized, fanciful, impossible\ntheories of certain dreamy, or proud, presumptuous, and overbearing\ntheologians require it to be.\n\nI have seen twenty or thirty definitions of Scripture\nINSPIRATION all of which betray the Bible into the hands of its\nadversaries. And it is no use expecting to convert skeptics, till those\ndefinitions are set aside, and better, truer ones put in their place. We\nourselves pay no regard to these definitions. They are merely human\nfictions. They have no warrant from Scripture, and we cannot allow\nourselves to be hampered with them.\n\nThe passage in the New Testament which speaks of the Holy Scriptures of\nthe Old Testament as divinely inspired, gives us no definition of divine\ninspiration. It says, 'All Scripture given by inspiration of God is\nprofitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in\nrighteousness, tending to make the man of God perfect, thoroughly\nfurnished unto all good works:' but it goes no further. It does not say\nthat all Scripture given by inspiration of God will be written in a\nsuperhuman language, or in a superhuman style. Nor does it say that all\nits allusions to natural things will be perfectly correct; that all the\nstories which it tells will be told in a superhuman way. Nor does it say\nthat all the precepts, and all the institutions, and all the\nrevelations, and all the examples of the Book will be up to the level\nof absolute perfection. What the passage _does_ say of such Scriptures\nas are given by inspiration of God, is true of the Old Testament\nwritings as a whole, and still truer of the New Testament writings: they\n_are_ profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and for\ninstruction in righteousness; and they are adapted to make men perfect,\nthoroughly furnished unto all good works. All this you can prove. But\nyou cannot prove that they answer to the definitions of divine\ninspiration so often given in books of theology.\n\nThere is another passage in the New Testament which says that\n'Whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our\nlearning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might\nhave hope.' This too is true of the Old Testament writings as a whole;\nbut it gives no countenance to the definitions of Scripture inspiration\ngiven by dreamy theologians.\n\nPeter says that 'holy men of old spake as they were moved by the Holy\nSpirit;' but he does not say that everything spoken or written by holy\nmen, when moved by the Holy Spirit, would answer to some human dream of\nabsolute perfection. He does not say that the holy men, when moved to\nspeak by the Holy Spirit, would cease to be men, or even be free from\nall the imperfections or misconceptions of their age and nation, and\nspeak as if they had become at once perfect in the knowledge of natural\nphilosophy, or of common history, or even on every point pertaining to\nreligion. They might speak as moved by the Holy Spirit, and yet utter\ndivine oracles in an imperfect human language, and in a defective human\nstyle, and even use illustrations based on erroneous conceptions of\nnatural facts and historical events.\n\nA man moved to speak by the Holy Spirit would not exhort people to be\nidle or heedless; he would urge them to be industrious and prudent: but\nin enforcing his exhortation to those virtues by a reference to the ANT,\nhe might give proof that his knowledge of the ANT was not perfect,--that\nhis ideas of its ways were not in every little point correct.\n\nA man full of the Holy Spirit, and especially a man who had received of\nits influences without measure, would be sure to exhort men to be very\nwise and very harmless; but he might use a form of words in his\nexhortation which had originated in the misconception that serpents were\nwiser than any other animals, and that doves were more harmless than any\nother birds. Yet the exhortation would be good in substance; and even\nthe form, being in accordance with the views prevailing in his times,\nwould be unobjectionable; and both would be consistent with the fullest\ninspiration of the Holy Spirit.\n\nA great, good man, speaking under divine impulse, urging his son in the\nGospel to resist false and immoral teachers, might say, 'Now as Jannes\nand Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth; but\ntheir folly shall be made manifest unto all men, as theirs also was.'\nWhether the men who withstood Moses were really called Jannes and\nJambres or not, I do not know. The Old Testament does not say they were.\nThe probability is, that Paul rested his illustration on a Jewish\ntradition. But as the tradition was received as true by his people, his\nlesson was just as good as if it had rested on some unquestionable fact\nstated in authentic history.\n\nAnd so with regard to illustrations and incidental statements and\nallusions generally. Though they may rest on misconceptions, the moral\nlessons and spiritual revelations into the service of which they are\npressed, may be God's own oracles, and the book in which they appear\nmay, as a whole, be given by divine inspiration, and be profitable for\nteaching, for reproof, for correction, and for instruction in\nrighteousness, and conducive to all the great and desirable ends so dear\nto God.\n\nThere is no such thing as absolute perfection with regard to books.\nThere is no authorized standard, no test, no measure of absolute\nperfection for books; and if there were, no man could apply it. Of a\nthousand different books each may be perfect in its way, yet none of\nthem be absolutely perfect. Each may have some great good end in view,\nand be adapted to answer that end; and that is the only perfection of\nwhich a book admits. And it is perfection enough.\n\nAnd this perfection the Bible has. It has the best, the highest, the\nmost glorious objects in view, and it is adapted to accomplish those\nobjects; and that is sufficient. They that undertake to prove that it\nhas any other perfection, will fail, and both bring discredit on\nthemselves, and suspicion on the Bible. The Bible may be more grievously\nwronged by unwise praise, than by unjust censure.\n\nAbsolutely perfect books and teachers are not necessary to our\ninstruction and welfare. We can learn all we need to know, and all we\nneed to do, from books and teachers that are _not_ perfect. We have no\nabsolutely perfect books on Grammar, Rhetoric, or Logic. Yet men learn\nthose sciences readily enough when they study them heartily and\ndiligently. We have no perfect systems of Arithmetic, Geometry, or\nAlgebra; of Geography, Astronomy, or Geology; of Anatomy, Physiology, or\nChemistry; of Botany, Natural History, or Physical Geography. Yet on all\nthose subjects men gather an immense amount of knowledge, make a\nmultitude of new discoveries, and arrive at a wonderful degree of\ncertainty.\n\nAnd so with arts and trades. We have no absolutely perfect teachers or\nbooks in music, or painting, or sculpture; in farming, or manufactures,\nor trade. Yet what wonderful proficients men become in those arts! We\nhave no perfect teachers of languages: yet any man with a taste for the\nstudy of them, may learn twenty or thirty of them in a life-time. Even\nindifferent books and teachers will enable a man who is bent on\nlearning, to master the most difficult language on earth.\n\nA man once asked me, 'Which is the best English Grammar?' My answer was,\n'The first you come at. A poor one to-day is better than a good one\nto-morrow. Begin your studies at once with the grammar you have; and you\nwill soon find out which is the best.' And so I say with regard to books\non other subjects. Make the best use you can of the books you have, and\nyou will soon come across better. And when you do come across them, you\nwill be all the better prepared to profit by them, than if you were to\nwaste your time in idleness till you can get hold of the best of all.\nBesides; the book that is best for others, may not be the best for you.\n\nAnd if a man should ask me, 'Which is the best translation of the\nBible?' I would say, 'The first you come at. Read any, till you meet\nwith others. Then read many, and, using your common sense, judge for\nyourself which is best. That which does most to make you a good, a\nstrong, a useful and a happy man is the best.'\n\nSome want books and teachers that will save them the trouble of study.\nAnd there are none such. It would be a pity if there were. They would do\nno good, but harm. Nothing strengthens and develops the mind like labor.\nBut if you had the best books possible they would not enable you to\nacquire much useful knowledge, without close study, and vigorous mental\neffort.\n\nI learned Greek with the worst Greek Grammar I ever saw; but when I had\nlearned the language tolerably, I found one of the best Greek Grammars\nin the world, and went rapidly through it, and found that it had little\nto add to the information I had gained already from the poorer one.\n\nAnd it is the same with regard to books on God, religion, and duty.\nBooks with numbers of defects,--with defects of style, defects of\narrangement, and even defects in matter, may teach you many useful\nlessons, if you read and study them properly; and the best books on\nearth will not teach you much if you read them carelessly.\n\nA great deal, almost every thing, depends on the spirit or the object\nwith which a man reads a good book. You may read the best books to\nlittle profit, and you may get great good from very inferior ones.\n\nThe Bible is the best religious and moral book on earth; it is, in its\nmost imperfect translations, able to make men wise, and good, and\nuseful, and happy to the last degree, if they will read and study it\nproperly. But there is not a better book on earth for making a man a\nfool, if he comes to it with a vain mind, a proud spirit, a fulness of\nself-conceit, or a wish to be a prophet. A desire to be a prater about\nthe millennium, the second coming of Christ, the personal reign, the\norders of angels, the ranks of devils, the secrets of God's counsels,\nthe hidden meaning of the badgers' skins, the shittim wood, the Urim and\nThummim, the Cherubim and Seraphim, the Teraphim and Anakim, and all the\nimaginary meanings of imaginary types, and the place where Paradise was\nsituated, and the mountain peak on which the Ark rested, and Behemoth,\nand Leviathan, and the spot at which the Israelites entered the Red Sea,\nand the compass of Adam's knowledge before he named the animals, and the\nfiery sword at the gate of Paradise, and the controversial parts of\nPaul's epistles, and the mysteries of the Book of Revelation, and the\nspiritual meaning of Solomon's Song, and the place where Satan had his\nmeeting with the sons of God in the days of Job, and the exact way in\nwhich Job used the potsherd, when he scraped himself as he sat among the\nashes, &c., &c.,--I say if this is what a man desires, the Bible will\nhelp him to his wish, and make him the laughing-stock, or the pity of\nall sensible men.\n\nAnd if he employs the one hundred and fifty rules of Hartwell Horne for\nmisinterpreting the plain portions of the Bible, and his one hundred and\nforty other rules for darkening his mind, and confounding his soul, the\nBible will ruin him still quicker. A better book for trying a man, and\nfor rewarding his honesty, and piety, and charity, if he has those\nvirtues, and for making them ever more; or for punishing a man's vanity,\nand pride, and selfishness, and perversity, if he be the slave of such\npassions, God could hardly have given. And to try and to bless men are\nthe two great objects of all God's revelations.\n\nMy opponent was fond of saying that the Bible was an infallible guide.\nThe statement was not true in any strict and rigorous sense of the\nwords. And it was foolish for him to make it in an eager debate, for he\ncould never prove it. And he was not long in finding this out. A few\nplain questions set him quite fast. The Bible is an infallible guide,\nyou say. We ask, Which Bible? The common version? No. John Wesley's\nversion? No. Dr. Conquest's? No. The Unitarian version? No. _Any_\nversion? No. Is it some particular Greek or Hebrew Bible then? No. Is it\nthe manuscripts? No. But these are all the Bibles we have.\n\nThe Bible is an infallible guide, you say. What to? Uniformity of\nopinion? No. Uniformity of worship? No. Uniformity of life? No.\nUniformity of feeling, of affection, of effort? No. It does not even\nrequire uniformity in those matters. It supposes diversity. It asks only\nfor sincerity, honesty, fidelity. But it is an infallible guide to all\ntruth and duty, you say. Has it guided you to all truth and duty? No.\nWhom _has_ it guided to those blessed results? You cannot say.\n\nBut it is an infallible guide to all that truth which is necessary to a\nman's salvation, you say. But there is no particular amount of truth\nthat _is_ necessary to a man's salvation. The amount of truth necessary\nto a man's salvation differs according to his powers and privileges.\nThat which is necessary to my salvation may not be necessary to the\nsalvation of a Pagan. It is sincerity in the search of truth, and\nfidelity in reducing it to practice, which is necessary to a man's\nsalvation, and not the acquisition of some particular quantity of truth.\n\nThe Bible is an infallible guide. To whom? To the Catholics? No. To the\nUnitarians? No. To the Quakers? No. To the Church of England people? No.\nTo Methodists and Calvinists? No.\n\nThat the Bible is a trusty guide enough, I have no doubt, if we will\nfaithfully and prayerfully follow it; but to talk as if it would guide\nevery one infallibly to exactly the same views, or to the fulness of all\ntruth, is not wise. It is not warranted either by the Bible itself, or\nby facts.\n\nBesides, if a book is to guide a man infallibly, it must be made\nperfectly plain; it must be infallibly interpreted. And where are the\ninfallible interpreters? We know of none that even profess to be such\noutside the Church of Rome; and none but themselves and their own Church\nmembers believe their professions. _You_ do not believe them. As a rule,\nthe claim of infallibility is taken as a proof that the man who makes it\nis not only fallible, but something worse.\n\nBut if we had infallible interpreters, they would not be able to keep us\nfrom error, unless we had infallible hearts and infallible\nunderstandings. And we have no such things. If we had, we should neither\nneed infallible books nor infallible interpreters.\n\nThat the Bible is all that it _needs_ to be, and all that it _ought_ to\nbe, I am satisfied; but that it is all that some of its zealous\nadvocates _say_ it is, plain and unquestionable facts make it impossible\nfor any candid, unbiassed, and well-informed man to believe.\n\nWe have all an infallible guide within us, if we be true Christians. For\nthe Spirit of God dwells in the hearts of all true disciples of Christ.\nBut the infallible guide does not make us all infallible followers. The\ninfallible teacher does not make us all infallible learners. We are\nblessed with divine inspiration, but we are not converted into machines.\nInspiration does not make us absolutely perfect either in knowledge or\nvirtue, still less does it make us perfect all at once. We shall learn\nenough, and we shall learn fast enough, if we are faithful; but we shall\nnever be perfect or infallible in our knowledge in this world.\n\nAs the subject of Bible inspiration is one of great importance, and as\nit is at present exciting the greatest interest, it may not be amiss\nhere to give a few quotations from writers who have been led to see the\ndoctrine in the same light as ourselves. I am unable to give the names\nof some of the authors from whose works I quote, but they are all\nconnected with one or other of the great evangelical denominations of\nthe day.\n\nThe following is from \"BASES OF BELIEF,\" by Edward Miall, one\nof the best books on the truth and divinity of Christianity I have had\nthe happiness to read. Mr. Miall is a Congregational minister, editor of\nthe Nonconformist Newspaper, and Member of Parliament. As his remarks\nare lengthy, we are obliged to abridge them in some cases.\n\n'It is not needed, in order to show satisfactorily that there is a\ndivine revelation _in_ the record, to prove that the record is _itself_\ndivine. To disprove that revelation, a man must do something more than\npoint out marks of imperfection in the Book containing it, such marks as\nwould not be expected in a book written directly by the hand of God. If\nit could be demonstrated that the penmen who have given us the life of\nChrist, were indebted to no other aid than that supplied by the good\nmental and moral qualifications which any others might possess, the main\nstrength of Christianity as a communication of God's mind and will,\nwould remain untouched.\n\n'The discrepancies between the statements of the four Evangelists,--the\nindications of individual or national peculiarities,--the modes of\ndescribing occurrences, true because well understood in the locality of\nthe speaker, but not strictly true in other places,--all matters which\nserve to show that the same objects have been seen by different persons,\nbut from different points of view, are to be allowed for as reconcilable\nwith a truthfulness that may be implicitly relied upon. One informant\nmay have blundered in geography, another may have been mistaken in an\nhistorical reference, a third may have misquoted or misapplied some\nprophetical allusion, and all may have given ample proof that they were\nnot free from the influence of the traditions generally received in the\nplaces to which they belonged; but unless these peculiarities and\ninfirmities show a want of competency as witnesses, or a lack of\nintegrity, they may be dismissed, as having no bearing on the main\npoint.\n\n'The question whether the Gospel records are free from blemishes found\nto attach to every other record, has nothing to do with the main issue.\nOur _theories_ may require them to be free from such harmless\nimperfections; but our _reason_ makes no such demand.\n\n'The memoir of a great man does not lose its use and virtue, because\nwritten by a biographer open to some censure: nor can the life of Christ\nfail of its transcendent purpose, because the writers were not in all\nthings infallible.\n\n'Appearances of harmless human imperfections in the writers do not\ninvalidate the sacred records. For instance, if it should be found that\nthose faithful witnesses have given their testimony in exceptionable\nGreek,--or that in some matters, not touching their main object, they\nare not enlightened above the common standard of their times and\nstation,--or that they have habits of thought, or speech, or action,\nwhich, though perfectly innocent in themselves, show that they are not\nso far advanced in science as some,--if, in a word, it should appear\nthat the historic writers of the New Testament were really men of the\nage in which they lived, and men of the country in which they were born\nand educated, subject to the then limitations of general knowledge,--men\nof individual tendencies, tastes, temperaments, passions, and even\nprejudices,--wherein is the world worse for this, and in what respect\ncould our reason have wished it otherwise? We protest, we do not see.\nOn the contrary, we feel it to be an advantage, that the divine light\nemanating from the life of Jesus Christ, should reach us through an\nartless and thoroughly human medium. It is no misfortune, in our\njudgment, but quite the opposite, that 'we have this treasure in earthen\nvessels.' Such traces on the pages of evangelic history as mark the\nwriters for men,--honest, faithful, competent, but yet verily and indeed\nmen,--bring their narrative much more closely home to our sympathies,\nand set us upon a more ardent search for the spirit in its several\nportions, than if the story had been written by the faultless pen of\nsome superior being.'\n\nMr. Miall then refers to the errors and discrepancies in the genealogies\nprefixed to two of the lives of Christ, and says, 'They are accounted\nfor, in our view, by the humanity of the writers. We are not bound to\nregard the genealogies as infallibly accurate, any more than we are\nbound to regard the dialect of the writers as pure Greek. No essential\ntruth is affected by either, and that is enough.'\n\nMr. Miall further argues that intellectual infallibility was not\nnecessary, and was not to be looked for, in Paul, the great expounder of\nthe Gospel. And he adds, 'Taking the New Testament as a whole, we are\nnot disposed to deny, that it bears upon the face of it, many\nindications that its several writers were not entirely exempt from\nmental imperfection,--but we contend that the mental imperfection which\ntheir works exhibit, is perfectly compatible with the communication to\nmen of infallible knowledge respecting God, His moral relations to us,\nHis purposes with regard to us, and the religious duties which these\nthings enforce on all who would attain eternal life. And if this be\ntrue, the record satisfies the spiritual need of man in its fullest\nextent.'\n\nWe have given Mr. Miall's views at greater length, because he occupies\nso high a position, not only in one of the largest religious\ndenominations in England, but in the country generally, and because we\nhave never seen any protest against his views from any writer of\ninfluence, in any branch of the Church of Christ. Such protests may have\nappeared, but we have never met with any. We may add, that while Mr.\nMiall gives up the idea of infallibility, he holds that the writers of\nthe New Testament history were under divine _guidance_ in composing\ntheir several memoirs of Christ.\n\nMr. Miall's views on the Old Testament writings we may have occasion to\nnotice further on.\n\nThe Rev. Dr. Parker, author of ECCE DEUS, has some remarks of a\ncharacter somewhat similar to those of Mr. Miall, but we have not his\nworks at hand.\n\nOur next quotation is from a lecture on SCIENCE AND REVELATION,\nby the very reverend R. Payne Smith, D. D., Dean of Canterbury. The\nlecture was delivered at the request of the Christian Evidence Society,\nLondon, and is published by that society, in their volume, entitled\nMODERN SKEPTICISM.\n\n'Revelation has nothing to do with our physical state. Reason is quite\nsufficient to teach us all those sanitary laws by which our bodies will\nbe maintained in healthful vigor. Whatever we can attain by our mental\npowers, we are to attain by them. Physical and metaphysical science\nalike lie remote from the object matter of revelation. The Bible never\ngives us any scientific knowledge in a scientific way. If it did, it\nwould be leaving its own proper domain. When it seems to give us any\nsuch knowledge, as in the first chapter of Genesis, what it says has\nalways reference to man. The first chapter of Genesis does not tell us\nhow the earth was formed absolutely, but how it was prepared and fitted\nfor man. Look at the work of the fourth day. Does any man suppose that\nthe stars were set in the expanse of heaven absolutely that men might\nknow what time of the year it was? They _did_ render men this service,\nbut this was not their great use. As the Bible speaks to all people, at\nall times, it must use popular language.'\n\nThis writer, like many others when they approach this subject, speaks\ntimidly, and in consequence somewhat vaguely and obscurely; but his\nmeaning is, that we must expect the Bible, on scientific subjects, to\nspeak, not according to science, but according to the prevailing ideas\nof their times on scientific subjects; and that we are to regard the\nBible as our teacher, not on every subject to which it may allude, or on\nwhich it may speak, but only on matters of religious truth and duty.\n\nThe following is from the Rev. H. W. Beecher.\n\n'Matthew says, that Jesus dwelt in Nazareth; that it might be fulfilled\nwhich was spoken by the prophets, He shall be called a Nazarene. No such\nline has ever been found in the prophets.\n\n'Infinite ingenuity of learning has been brought to bear upon this\ndifficulty, without in the slightest degree solving it.\n\n'What would happen if it should be said that Matthew recorded the\ncurrent impression of his time in attributing this declaration to the\nOld Testament Prophets? Would a mere error of reference invalidate the\ntrustworthiness of the evangelist? We lean our whole weight [in other\nmatters] upon men who are fallible. Must a record be totally infallible\nbefore it can be trusted at all? Navigators trust ship, cargo, and the\nlives of all on board, to calculations based on tables of logarithms,\nknowing that there never was a set [of logarithms] computed, without\nmachinery, that had not some error in it. The supposition, that to admit\nthat there are immaterial and incidental mistakes in Sacred Writ would\nbreak the confidence of men in it, is contradicted by the uniform\nexperience of life, and by the whole procedure of society.\n\n'On the contrary, the shifts and ingenuities to which critics are\nobliged to resort, either blunt the sense of truth, or disgust men with\nthe special pleading of critics, and tend powerfully to general\nunbelief.\n\n'The theory of inspiration must be founded upon the grounds on which the\nScriptures themselves found it. \"All Scripture is given by inspiration\nof God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for\ninstruction in righteousness; that the man of God may be perfect,\nthoroughly furnished unto all good works.\" (2 Tim. 3: 16, 17.)\n\n'Under this declaration, no more can be claimed for the doctrine of\ninspiration than that there shall have been such an influence exerted\nupon the formation of the record, that it shall be the truth respecting\nGod, and no falsity; that it shall so expound the duty of man under\nGod's moral government, as to secure, in all who will, a true holiness;\nthat it shall contain no errors which can affect the essential truths\ntaught, or which shall cloud the reason or sully the moral sense.\n\n'But it is not right or prudent to infer from the Biblical statement of\ninspiration, that it makes provision for the very words and sentences;\nthat it shall raise the inspired penmen above the possibility of\nliterary inaccuracy, or minor or immaterial mistakes. It is enough if\nthe Bible be a sure and sufficient guide to spiritual morality and\nrational piety. To erect for it a claim to absolute literary\ninfallibility, or to infallibility in things not directly pertaining to\nfaith, is to weaken its real authority, and to turn it aside from its\navowed purpose. The theory of verbal inspiration brings a strain upon\nthe Word of God which it cannot bear. If rigorously pressed, it tends\npowerfully to bigotry on the one side, and to infallibility on the\nother.\n\n'The inspiration of holy men is to be construed, as we construe the\ndoctrine of an over-ruling and special Providence; of the divine\nsupervision and guidance of the church; of the faithfulness of God in\nanswering prayer. The truth of these doctrines is not inconsistent with\nthe existence of a thousand evils, mischiefs, and mistakes, and with the\noccurrence of wanderings long and almost fatal. Yet the general\nsupervision of a Divine Providence is rational. We might expect that\nthere would be an analogy between God's care and education of the race,\nand His care of the Bible in its formation.\n\n'Around the central certainty of saving truth are wrapped the\nswaddling-clothes of human language. Neither the condition of the human\nunderstanding, nor the nature of human speech, which is the vehicle of\nthought, admits of more than a fragmentary and partial presentation of\ntruth. \"For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.\" (1 Cor. xiii. 9.)\nStill less are we then to expect that there will be perfection in this\nvehicle. And incidental errors, which do not reach the substance of\ntruth and duty, which touch only contingent and external elements, are\nnot to be regarded as inconsistent with the fact that the Scriptures\nwere _inspired of God_. Nor will our reverence for the Scriptures be\nimpaired if, in such cases, it be frankly said, '_There_ is an insoluble\ndifficulty.' Such a course is far less dangerous to the moral sense than\nthat pernicious ingenuity which, assuming that there can be no literal\nerrors in Scripture, resorts to subtle arts of criticism,\nimprobabilities of statement, and violence of construction, such as, if\nmade use of in the intercourse of men in daily life, would break up\nsociety and destroy all faith of man in man.\n\n'We dwell at length on this topic now, that we may not be obliged to\nrecur to it when, as will be the case, other instances arise in which\nthere is no solution of unimportant, though real, literary difficulties.\n\n'There are a multitude of minute, and on the whole, as respects the\nsubstance of truth, not important questions and topics, which, like a\nfastened door, refuse to be opened by any key which learning has brought\nto them. It is better to let them stand closed than, like impatient\nmastiffs, after long barking in vain, to lie whining at the door, unable\nto enter, and unwilling to go away. _Life of Jesus, pp. 77-81._\n\nThe Rev. G. Rawlinson, in an able lecture in defence of the Bible,\npublished by the CHRISTIAN EVIDENCE SOCIETY of London, acknowledges that\nthere are matters of uncertainty in some parts of the Old Testament\nhistory, and says, 'The time allowed by the common version of the Bible\nfor all the events which took place from the days of Noah, to the birth\nof Christ, and for all the changes by which the various races of men\nwere formed, by which civilization and the arts were developed, etc., is\nless than 2,600 years. Now this is quite insufficient. How is this\ndifficulty to be met? We answer; a special uncertainty attaches to the\nnumbers in this case. They are given differently in the different\nancient versions. The Samaritan version extends the time 650 years. The\nSeptuagint extends it eight or nine hundred years. If more time still be\nthought wanting for the development of government, art, science,\nlanguage, diversities of races, etc., I should not be afraid to grant\nthat the original record of Scripture on this point may have been lost,\nand that the true chronology cannot now be ascertained. Nothing in\nancient manuscripts is so liable to corruption as the numbers. The\noriginal mode of writing them was by signs not very different from one\nanother, and thus it happens that in almost all ancient works, the\nnumbers are found to be deserving of very little reliance.'\n\nBut the errors and uncertainty with regard to numbers amount to nothing.\nThey do not affect the Bible as the great religious instructor of the\nworld.\n\nThe sun has its spots, dark ones and large ones too; and the face of the\nmoon is not all of equal brightness; but are the sun and the moon less\nuseful on that account? Do they not answer the ends for which they were\nmade, and are not those ends the most important and desirable\nimaginable? Cavillers might say, if the sun and moon were made to be\nlights of the earth, why are they not _all_ light, and why is not their\nlight of the greatest brilliancy possible? But we too have a right to\nask, Do they not give us light enough? And is not their light as\nbrilliant as is desirable? Will the caviller prove that the sun and moon\nwould be greater blessings if their light wore more intense, or more\nabundant? Men may have too much light as well as too little. If light\nexceeds a certain degree of intensity, it dazzles and blinds instead of\nenlightening. It is well to have a little warmth, but if the heat be\nincreased beyond a certain point, it burns and consumes, instead of\ncomforting and cheering.\n\nThe disposition of the caviller is anything but enviable, and if God\nwere to take him at his word, his lot would be anything but comfortable.\nHappy are they who accept God's gifts as He presents them, with\nthankfulness, and use them in His service faithfully, rejoicing and\ntrusting in His infinite wisdom and love.\n\nWhat a man wants in a book are instruction, impulse, strength,\ncorrection, regeneration, consolation, lessons fit to furnish him to\nevery good work, something to give pleasure, supply exercise for his\nintellect, conscience, affections: and the Bible is all.\n\nIf God may employ an imperfect and fallible man to preach for him,\nallowing a portion of his imperfections to mingle with his message, why\nmight He not employ an imperfect and fallible man to write for Him,\nallowing a portion of his imperfections to mingle with his writing?\n\nThe following is from the BISHOP OF LONDON.\n\n'The vindication of the supernatural and authoritative character of the\nBible has too often been embarrassed by speculative theories not\nauthorized by the statements of the Bible itself.'\n\n'It is no reply to the essential claims of the Bible to be a\nsupernatural revelation from God, to show that certain speculative\ntheories concerning the manner and degree of its inspiration are\nuntenable.'\n\nFrom whose works the following quotation is made, we do not remember.\n\n'The watchword of the Reformation was, 'The sufficiency of the\nScriptures for salvation.'\n\n'Definite theories of inspiration were seldom propounded till of late\nyears.\n\n'The Bible is a revelation of spiritual truth communicated chiefly in\nillustrations and figurative language, and making use of the history,\nchronology, and other sciences of the age, as vehicles or helps. This\nprinciple will explain those seeming contradictions [to science] which\nresult from the use of popular language, as when the sun and moon are\nsaid to stand still, or when the sun is said to go from one end of the\nheaven to the other, etc. It will also account for many actual errors in\nscience, chronology, and history, should such be found to exist. The\nScriptures were not intended to teach men these things, but to reveal\nwhat relates to our connection with moral law, and the spiritual world,\nand our salvation. In teaching these things, the writers availed\nthemselves of the _popular_ language, and the current science and\nliterature of the age in which they lived. As in the present day a man\nmay be well instructed in Christian doctrine, and have the unction from\nthe Holy One, while ignorant of the teachings of modern science, so\nlikewise it was possible to those who first received religious truth and\nwere commissioned to declare it. The presence of the Holy Spirit no more\npreserved men from errors in science in the one case than in the other.\nOne may as well seek to study surveying in a biography of Washington, as\nthe details of geology or chronology in Genesis.\n\n'The proper test to apply to the Gospels is, whether each gives us a\npicture of the life and ministry of Jesus that is self-consistent and\nconsistent with the others; such as would be suitable to the use of\nbelievers.\n\n'Many of the apparent contradictions of the Bible may be explained by\nthe mistakes of transcribers, or in some other way equally natural; but,\nas the Bishop of London has well remarked, 'When laborious ingenuity has\nexerted itself to collect a whole store of such difficulties, supposing\nthem to be real, what on earth does it signify? They may be left quietly\nto float away without our being able to solve them, if we bear in mind\nthe acknowledged fact, that there is a human element in the Bible.'\n\n'What if many of the numbers given in Exodus should, as Bishop Colenso\nasserts, be inaccurate? What is to be gained by assertions or denials\nrelative to matters which have for ever passed out of the reach of our\nverification? And what if, here and there, a law should seem to us\nstrange and unaccountable; an event difficult to comprehend; a statement\nto involve an apparent contradiction? What has all this to do with the\nessential _value_ of the Book. Absolutely nothing, unless thereby its\n[honesty] truthfulness can be set aside.\n\n'If error were _cunningly interspersed_ with truth in the Bible, the\ncase would be different. But it is _not_ so. The Book, as a whole, and\nas it stands, is wholesome and useful; each portion of it has its proper\nplace, and is adequate to fulfil its appointed end. But everything in\nthe Book does not take hold alike on the heart and conscience. It may be\nvery interesting, as indeed it is, to trace on the map the various\njourneyings of St. Paul, or the wanderings of the children of Israel in\nthe wilderness; to note a hundred designed coincidences, etc. Yet all\nthis may be done without the slightest moral or spiritual benefit to the\nman who does it. And, of course, all this may be left undone by others\nwithout the slightest spiritual loss or disadvantage.'\n\nThe following may be our own.\n\nThe great thing is to use the Scriptures as a means of instruction in\nreligious truth and Christian duty, and as a means of improvement in all\nmoral excellence and Christian usefulness.\n\nSet the doctrine of Scripture inspiration too high, and people, finding\nthat the Scriptures do not come up to it, will conclude that the\ndoctrine is false,--that the Scriptures are not inspired,--that they do\nnot differ from other books,--that divine revelation is a fiction,--that\nreligion is a delusion,--and that the true philosophy of life and of the\nuniverse is infidelity. And the Scriptures do _not_ come up to the\ndoctrine of inspiration held by many. It is impossible they should. _No_\nbook written in human language _can_ come up to it. What they say an\ninspired book _must_ be, no book on earth ever was, and no book ever\nwill be. And infidels see it, and are confirmed in their infidelity. And\nothers see it and become infidels. And Christians argue with them and\nare overcome. And others are perplexed and bewildered, and obliged to\nclose their eyes to facts, and though they cling to their belief, they\nare troubled with fears and misgivings as long as they live.\n\nIf men would be strong in the faith, and strong in its defence, they\nshould accept nothing as part of their creed but what is strictly true.\n\nThere are passages which speak of the sun smiting men by day, and there\nis one at least which speaks of the moon smiting men by night, and both,\nfor any thing I know, may be literally true. But suppose it were proved\nthat neither the sun nor the moon ever smites men, would my faith in\nChristianity, or in the divine inspiration of the Bible, be shaken\nthereby? Not at all. Nor would it destroy or weaken the effect of the\npassages on my mind in which those allusions to the sun and moon occur.\nI should still believe in the substantial truth of the passages, namely,\nthat, day and night, the good man is secure under the protection of God.\n\nA man says that he has lately been under 'disastrous influences.'\nLiterally, the words disastrous influences mean the influences of\nunfriendly stars. But there are no unfriendly stars. Then why does he\nuse such an expression? Because, though it does not now in its current\nmeaning refer to the stars at all, it means calamitous, unfavorable,\ninfluences. I do not believe that the sun like a strong man runs a race:\nI believe its motion is only apparent,--that the _real_ motion is in the\nearth. But do I therefore question the divine inspiration of the Bible\nwhich uses that expression? Not at all; for the words are substantially\ntrue. And so in a hundred other cases.\n\nAnd so in passages of other kinds. It does not matter to me whether the\naccount of creation in Genesis answers literally to the real processes\nrevealed by Geology, or whether the account of the flood answers exactly\nto past facts. Both accounts are perfect as lessons of divine truth and\nduty, and that is enough.\n\nThose who undertake to prove that every passage of the Bible is\nliterally true, must fail. If they _were_ all literally true, they would\nnever have done. There are more difficult passages, and more apparent\nlittle contradictions, than any man could go through in a life-time. I\nwould no more undertake such a task than I would undertake to prove that\nevery leaf, and every flower, and every seed, of every plant on earth is\nperfect, and that each is exactly like its fellows. God's honor and\nman's welfare are as much concerned in the one as in the other. They are\nconcerned in neither. The leaves, the flowers, and the seeds of plants\nare right enough,--they are as perfect as they need to be,--and I ask no\nmore. And the Bible is as perfect as it needs to be, and I am satisfied.\n\nThe following is abridged from a work entitled CHRISTIANITY AND OUR\nERA, by the Rev. G. Gilfillan of Scotland.\n\nMr. Gilfillan speaks of it as a 'Generally admitted fact, that there is\na human, as well as a divine element in Scripture,' and adds, 'that this\nshould modify our judgment in considering perplexing discrepancies and\nminor objections. There are spots in the sun; there are bogs on the\nearth; and why should the perplexities in a book, which is a\nmultifarious collection of poetico-theological and historical tracts,\nwritten in various ages, and subject, in their history, to many human\nvicissitudes, bewilder and appal us? The candid inquirer will be\nsatisfied if, from the unity of spirit, the truth and simplicity of\nmanner, the majesty of thought, the heavenliness of tone, and the\nvarious collateral and external proofs, he gathers a _general_\ninspiration in the Bible, and the general truth of Christianity. Logical\nstrictness, perfect historic accuracy, systematic arrangement, etc.,\ncould not be expected in a book of intuitions and bursts of inspiration;\nthe authors of which seemed often the child-like organs of the power\nwithin. It seemed enough that there should be no wilful mis-statements,\nand no errors but those arising from the inevitable conditions to which\nall writings are liable. The skeptic who proceeds to peruse the Bible,\nexpecting it everywhere to be conformable to the highest ideal\nstandard--that there shall be nothing to perplex his understanding, to\ntry his belief, or to offend his taste, will be disappointed, and will\neither give up his task, or go on in weariness and hesitation. On the\nother hand, if he be told to prepare for historical discrepancies, for\nstaggering statements, for phrases more plain than elegant, and for\nsentences of inscrutable darkness, he will be far more likely to come to\na satisfactory conclusion. And the apparent dark spots will only serve\nto increase the surrounding splendor. We therefore cry to the skeptic\nwho purposes to explore the region of revelation; 'We promise you no\npavement of gold; you will find your path an Alpine road, steep, rugged,\nwith profound chasms below, and giddy precipices above, and thick mists\noften closing in around, but rewarding you by prospects of ineffable\nloveliness, by gleams of far-revealing light, and delighting you with a\nthousand unearthly pleasures. _Try_ this pass, with a sincere desire to\ncome at truth, and with hope and courage in your hearts, and you will be\nrichly rewarded, and the toils of the ascent will seem to you afterwards\nonly a portion of your triumph.'\n\nOne writer gives the following definition of inspiration. 'A\nsupernatural, divine influence on the sacred writers, by which they were\nqualified to communicate moral and religious truth with authority.'\n\nThis is tolerable.\n\nAnother writer says, 'It is a miraculous influence, by which men are\nenabled to receive and communicate divine truth.'\n\nThis too is tolerable, notwithstanding the word miraculous.\n\nAnother writer says, 'There has been a great diversity of opinions among\nthe best men of all ages, as to the nature and extent of Bible\ninspiration.'\n\nHe might have added, that these opinions have generally been nothing\nmore than opinions,--mere fancies, theories, framed without regard to\nfacts.\n\nAnother writer says, 'It should be remembered, that the inspiration\nwhich breathes through the Book is not of a scientific, critical, or\nhistorical character, but exclusively religious.'\n\nHe means, that while inspiration makes the Bible all that is desirable\nas a teacher on religious matters, it does not, on other subjects, raise\nit above the views of the ages and places in which it was written. For\nhe adds, 'The sacred record is not in every respect faultless. It is not\nfree from literary, typographical, and other defects. Nature herself,\nwhere no one can deny the finger of God, has imperfections. The Book\npresents the same characteristics as the best and highest of God's other\ngifts, namely, not the outward symmetry of a finite and mechanical\nperfection, but the inward, elastic, and reproductive power of a divine\nlife!'\n\nThe meaning of this latter vague and wordy sentence seems to be, that\nthe inspiration of the Bible is such as to make it a powerful means of\nproducing spiritual life,--real religion; but not such as to preserve it\nfrom little ordinary human errors and imperfections.\n\nThis writer represents Dr. Stowe as saying, 'Inspiration, according to\nthe Bible, is just that measure of extraordinary Divine influence\nafforded to the sacred speakers and writers, which was necessary to\nsecure the purpose intended, and no more.'\n\nThis too we can accept. It does not authorize us to expect of the Bible,\nor require us to prove with regard to it, any thing more, than that it\nis adapted to be the religious and moral instructor of mankind.\n\nThis same writer represents Dr. Robinson as saying, 'Whenever, and as\nfar as, divine assistance was necessary, it was always afforded.' This\ntoo is tolerable.\n\nOne writer says, 'Divine inspiration cannot be claimed for the\ntranscribers or translators of the original Scriptures.'\n\nWe think it can. We see no reason to doubt, but that many of the\ntranscribers and translators of the Scriptures were as much under the\ninfluence of the Holy Spirit,--the spirit of love, and truth, and all\ngoodness,--as the original writers. Our impression is, that the common\nversion is as truly the work of divine inspiration, as any book on\nearth.\n\nOne writer says, 'The language of the whole Bible is that of\nappearances. In drawing illustrations from nature, the writers could not\nhave been understood, unless they had used figures and forms of speech\nbased on nature as popularly understood. Hence the heavenly bodies are\nspoken of as revolving round the earth, the ant as storing up food in\nsummer, and the earth as being immovable, all of which are now known to\nbe contrary to [strict] truth.'\n\nThis writer, like some others, feeling as if he had gone too far in\nuttering words so true, contradicts them a few pages after, and makes a\nnumber of statements which remind one of what the Apostle says, about\nhandling the word of God deceitfully. One would be tempted to charge him\nwith 'cunning craftiness,' only his craft is not very cunning. When\nreligious teachers act so unfaithfully, they have no right to complain\nif people lose all confidence in their honesty.\n\nWe grant, however, that the temptation to keep back the truth on this\npoint is very strong, and we must not be hard on the timid ones. It is\nnot always a fear of personal loss or suffering that keeps men from\nspeaking freely on religious subjects, but a dread of lessening their\nusefulness, of hurting the minds of good though mistaken people, or of\ndisturbing and injuring the Church.\n\nBut it is no use trying to cheat unbelievers. You cannot do it. They\nwill find you out, and be all the more suspicious and skeptical in\nconsequence. We must deal with them honestly; tell them nothing but what\nis true, and use no arguments but what are sound and unanswerable.\nAdvocates of Christianity have made numberless unbelievers by teaching\nerroneous doctrines, and by using weak and vicious arguments. The\nChristian should so speak and act, that it shall be impossible for any\none ever to find him in the wrong.\n\nThe following is probably our own.\n\nThe historical difficulties of the Bible amount to little. They do not\naffect its scope and tendency, as a moral and spiritual teacher. Nor are\nthey inconsistent with the doctrine that the Scriptures were given by\ninspiration of God, as that doctrine is presented in the Scriptures\nthemselves. They may be inconsistent with the views of Scripture\ninspiration taught by certain Theologians; but all we have to do is to\nset the views of these Theologians aside, and content ourselves with the\nsimple teachings of Scripture.\n\nNow the doctrine of Scripture inspiration as taught by the Scriptures\nthemselves, gives me no authority to expect the Scriptures to be free\nfrom historical and scientific errors, or from any of those so-called\nimperfections which are inseparable from human language or from human\nnature. It authorizes me to expect that the Scriptures shall aim at my\nmoral and spiritual instruction and salvation, and that they shall be\nadapted to answer that great end. It authorizes me to expect that the\nbody and substance of the Book shall be true and good, and that a spirit\nof wisdom and purity and love shall pervade the Book, giving it a\nrousing and a sanctifying power. It authorizes me to expect in it all\nthat is necessary to bring me into harmony and fellowship with Christ,\nto fill me with His spirit, to change me into His likeness, to enable me\nto live as He lived, and to labor as He labored. It authorizes me to\nexpect in the Bible all that is necessary to comfort me in affliction,\nto give me patience, to sustain my hopes, and to support and cheer me in\nthe hour of death. And all this I find in infinite abundance. I find it\nin a multitude of forms,--forms the most touching and impressive. I find\nit presented in the plainest, simplest style. I find in the Bible an\ninfinite treasury of all that is holy, just and good,--of all that is\nbeautiful, sublime, and glorious,--of all that is quickening,\nrenovating, strengthening,--of all that is cheering, exhilarating,\ntransporting,--of all that I can wish for or enjoy,--of all that my\npowers can comprehend,--of all that my soul can appropriate and use. I\nfind in it, in short, riches unsearchable, beyond all that I could ever\nhave asked, or thought. And what can I wish for more?\n\nGod has given us no perfect teachers, no perfect preachers, no perfect\nchurches; why should we suppose it necessary that He should give us a\nperfect book? He has not given us any perfect books on medicine, on\ndiet, on trades, on politics, on farming, on gardening, on education, or\non poetry. Why should we expect Him to give us one on religion? As a\nmatter of fact, He has not done so. Our common Bible is a translation.\nSo are all the common Bibles in the world. And all translations are\nimperfect. The translations are made from Greek and Hebrew Bibles, and\nthose are all imperfect. The Greek and Hebrew Bibles are compiled or\nformed from Greek and Hebrew manuscripts. But these also are imperfect.\nThey all differ from each other. And no one can tell which is nearest to\nthe originals, for the originals are lost. So that whether there was an\nabsolutely perfect Bible at first or not, there is no such Bible now.\nGod Himself has so ordered things, that all the Bibles in the world,\nlike all the preachers, churches, and teachers, share the innocent\nimperfections of our common humanity.\n\nSuppose the original Bible to have been perfect, and to have been\npreserved from destruction, only one person could have possessed it. The\nrest would have had to be content with imperfect human copies. God might\nHimself have written perfect Bibles for all mankind, but He did not\nchoose to do it. Or He might have made perfect copies of the original\nBible, but He did not choose to do even that. He might have employed a\nfew legions of angels in making copies of the Bible; but _that_ He did\nnot do. He left the work to be done by men, and men have done it, as\nthey do all their work, imperfectly.\n\nStill, they have done it well enough. The poorest manuscript Bible in\nthe world is good enough. The most imperfect Greek and Hebrew Bible is\ngood enough. The poorest translation is good enough. It is so good, we\nmean, that those who are able to read it, may learn from it all that is\nnecessary to make them good, and useful, and happy on earth, and to fit\nthem for the blessedness of eternal life in heaven.\n\nThere is a sense in which no translation of the Scriptures is good\nenough, if we can make it better; and we have no desire to prevent men\nfrom doing their best to improve the translations in all languages as\nmuch as possible. But do not let them make the impression that a perfect\ntranslation is necessary or even possible; for it is not. God has caused\nthe Bible to be written in such a way, He has put all important matters\nof truth and duty in such a variety of forms, that any translation, made\nwith a reasonable amount of learning and honesty, is sure to make things\nintelligible enough in some of the forms in which they are presented in\nthe Book.\n\nThe Bible, like the Church and the Ministry, is a great mixture of the\nhuman and the divine. There is not a single book, nor a single passage\nperhaps, in the whole volume, in which the weaknesses of man and the\nperfections of God are not blended. Everywhere we have revelations of\nthe divine glory, and everywhere we have manifestations of human\nimperfection. We have human errors side by side with divine truths. We\nhave neither a perfect teacher nor a perfect example in the whole Book,\nbut one; and of that one we have not a perfect record, either of His\nteachings or His life. We have nothing but brief, imperfect, fragmentary\nrecords of either. They are perfect enough; but they are very imperfect.\nAnd Moses, and the Prophets, and the Apostles, are perfect enough; but\nthey are all imperfect. The Bible is perfect enough; but it is,\naccording to the ordinary meaning of the word, still imperfect.\n\nWe do not need perfection, we do not need infallibility, in anything;\nand we have it not. Imperfection is better, and that we have in\neverything.\n\nAnd all this is in keeping with God's doings in other cases, 'The\ninspiration of the Holy One giveth man understanding;' but does not make\nhis mind infallible. Christians 'have an unction, an inspiration, from\nthe Holy One, and know all things:' and yet they do not know all things;\nbut only those things which pertain to God and Christ: and even their\nknowledge of these is acquired not all at once, or without the use of\nmeans; but by degrees only, and by the faithful use of their natural\npowers.\n\nThe Apostles were not machines. Their inspiration did not take away\ntheir liberty, or suspend the use of their natural powers. Nor did it\nteach them natural science, or history; or lift them above ordinary,\ninnocent errors. Nor did it cause them to learn all Christian truth at\nonce. They gained their knowledge by degrees. Some imagine, that the\nmoment the Apostles received the Spirit on the day of Pentecost, they\nwere perfect and infallible; whereas it took them nearly ten years to\nlearn that they were to preach the Gospel to the Gentiles. They had the\nwords of Christ, 'Go ye into _all the world_, and preach the Gospel to\n_every creature_;' yet it required nearly ten years, and a special\nvision, to make them understand that _every creature_ included the\nGentiles.\n\nNor have we any proof that the Spirit ever made the Apostles infallible\nin every little matter. Paul says, when speaking of the resurrection,\n'That which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die.' Now the truth\nis, that the seed from which the harvest springs, does not die. It\nsimply expands and unfolds. His doctrine was right, but the notion on\nwhich he grounded his illustration of it was an error. But it answered\nhis purpose. And there is a sense in which seed dies. It ceases to be a\nseed in becoming a plant.\n\nBishop Watson says, 'a grain of wheat must become _rotten_ before it can\nsprout;' but that is not the case. It ceases to be a mere grain to\nbecome a plant; but it does not become rotten; it remains alive and\nsound.\n\nThe Apostle is an able minister, a glorious interpreter of Christ and\nHis doctrine; and there is nothing seriously amiss in his illustrations;\nbut several of them are based on prevailing misconceptions.\n\nSome say, 'If the Apostles were not infallible in everything, their\nwritings would be of no use to us. If they might err in one thing, they\nmight err in others, and we could have no certainty of the truth of\nanything.' But that is not true. On one occasion, Paul says, 'I knew not\nthat it was God's high-priest.' And on another, he says, 'I baptized\nnone of you but Crispus and Gaius.' Afterwards he says 'I baptized also\nthe house of Stephanas:' and he finishes by saying, 'I know not whether\nI baptized any other.' Will you say, 'If Paul could be ignorant or\nmistaken about the high-priest, or the number of persons he had\nbaptized; he might be ignorant or mistaken on every subject?' The truth\nis, a man who was so much taken up with great things, would be sure to\nthink but little of small things. His determination to know nothing but\nChrist; would be sure to keep him from wasting his time or strength on\ntrifles. A man's ignorance on some points is often proportioned to his\nknowledge on others. And Paul is all the more trustworthy on great\nmatters of Christian truth and duty, because of his indifference to\nmatters of little or no importance. And say what we will, the Apostles\nwere not infallible on every point, and they never professed to be so.\nThey professed to be inspired, and inspired they were, but they did not\nprofess to be wholly infallible, and it is certain they were not so.\n\nAnd the admission of the truth on this point, will _not_ destroy our\nconfidence in them on others. We may believe that the Apostles were\nfallible on matters of little moment, and have the fullest assurance\npossible that they were right on matters of great importance.\n\nThe Apostles themselves were sufficiently assured of the truth of those\nimpressions which they had received about Christ through their eyes and\nears; yet neither the eyes nor the ears of man are always or absolutely\ninfallible. I have myself mistaken blue for green, and yellow for white;\nand I recollect two occasions on which coal or jet, seemed, at a\ndistance, in the sunlight, as white as snow. And I have often thought\nthings to be moving, which were at rest; and things to be at rest, which\nwere moving. Yet I have the fullest confidence in my eyes. I have\nsometimes been mistaken with regard to sounds. I have thought a sound to\nbe near, when it was far off; and I have thought a sound to be far off,\nwhen it was near. And I have often mistaken one sound for another. Yet I\nhave all the confidence I need to have in my ears. Both eyes and ears\nmay need the help of the mind at times; but the mind is always at hand\nwith its help. In short, I know that all my senses are fallible; yet on\nevery point of moment I have all the assurance, with regard to things\nsensible, that is needful to my welfare.\n\nAnd so with regard to religious matters. There is nothing like\nomniscience,--nothing like infinite or absolutely perfect knowledge or\ninfallibility in any man: yet every one may have all the information and\nall the assurance on things moral and spiritual needful to his comfort\nand salvation.\n\nOur assurance of the truth and excellency of Christian doctrine rests on\nsomething better, surer, than theological and metaphysical niceties. You\nwho fancy that your strong and heart-cheering faith rests on theological\ntheories, and that if those theories were exploded, it would perish,\nare, happily, under a great mistake. Your faith, and hope, and joy,\nrest on the harmony between Christianity and your souls. My faith and\ntrust in the outward world, and my infinite appreciation of its\narrangements, rest, not on any philosophical theory; but on the\nwonderful, the perfect adaptation of every thing to my nature, to my\nwants, to my comfort and welfare. Nature answers to me, fits into me, at\nevery point. I am just the kind of being nature was made for; and nature\nis just the kind of world my being requires. They match. They answer to\neach other exactly, all round, and make one glorious and blessed whole.\nAnd this is the secret of my trust in nature.\n\nAnd so it is with regard to Christianity and my soul. They are made for\neach other. They fit each other. My soul just wants what Christianity\nbrings; and Christianity just brings what my soul requires. It answers\nto my soul, as light and beauty answer to the eye, and as sound and\nmusic answer to the ear, and the whole of nature to the whole of man.\nThere is neither want, nor superfluity, nor disagreement. Christianity\nand my soul, like nature and my physical being, are a glorious match.\nThey are one: as I and my life are one. Christ is my life. Christ is my\nall. And He is all that my soul requires or desires.\n\nAnd this is the ground of the good Christian's faith. It is not external\nor historical evidence; it is not metaphysical niceties or theories; it\nis not the endless mass of jarring evidences of any kind which lie in\nmisty, musty, dusty volumes on the shelves of dreamy, doting divines,\nthat makes you feel at rest in Jesus; but Jesus Himself, whose fulness\njust answers to your wants, and whose life and love just make your\nheaven. It is just that, and nothing more.\n\nThere is a story of a judge who was celebrated for the wisdom and\njustice of his judgments, but often censured for the weakness or folly\nof the reasons which he gave for them. Many Christians resemble this\njudge. They make a wise and worthy profession of faith; but when they\nattempt to give reasons for their belief, they betray the most\nlamentable ignorance. They _have_ good reasons, but they cannot put them\ninto words. They do not always know what their reasons for believing\nare. The reasons they assign are not their real reasons. They believed,\nand believed on good grounds, for sufficient reasons, years before they\nheard of the reasons they give for their belief to those who question\nthem on the subject. The reasons they assign did not at first convince\nthem, and they are not the kind of reasons likely to convince others.\nAnd it would be better if, instead of assigning them, they were to say:\n'Well; I do not know that I can tell you the reasons why I believe the\nBible; but I have reasons. I am satisfied my belief is right. I am\nsatisfied the Bible is the right thing for me. I meet with things in it\nthat make me feel very happy. I meet with things in it that will not let\nme do wrong; that will keep impelling me to do right, to do good. I meet\nwith things in it that support me in trouble; that make me thankful in\nprosperity; that fill me with good thoughts, good feelings, good\npurposes, good hopes, great peace, sweet rest, strong confidence, and a\nblessed prospect of a better life. I like the Bible God: He is a great\nprotector, and a blessed comforter. I like the Bible story about Jesus,\nand all the glorious things it says about His love and salvation. In\nshort, the Bible is a great part of my life, my soul, my joy, my\nstrength, my being, and I don't know what I could do without it. I\ncannot argue. I don't know the reasons why I believe. But the Bible just\nsuits my soul, and I am inclined to believe that the world would be a\ndark place, and life a poor affair, without its blessed revelations and\nprecious promises.'\n\nNow in speaking thus, most men would really, without knowing it, be\ngiving the reasons or grounds of their faith. The great reason really\nis, the perfect adaptation of the Bible to their nature and wants. They\nbelieve unconsciously and unthinkingly in the divinity of nature, on\naccount of the wonderful adaptation of its provisions to their natural\nwants. They believe in virtuous love, and honorable marriage, and family\nlife, and natural affections, and friendship, and society, and\ngovernment, and law, on similar grounds. The reasons of their faith are\nreal, and good, and strong; but like the roots of a tree, they are low\ndown, out of sight, under the ground. They do not reflect on them, dig\nthem up, bring them to the light, and give them a critical examination.\n\nThis internal evidence is gaining favor day by day. It is preferred by\nthe ablest modern writers to all others. It was the evidence that\nvanquished the infidel socialists of five and thirty years ago. It is\nthe evidence that makes our modern infidel advocates wince and waver.\nThey hardly think it necessary to notice the historical evidences. They\nknow that they seldom get hold of men's hearts. But they cannot afford\nto despise the internal evidences. They are a real power. Thousands are\ntouched by a sight of Jesus as presented in the Gospels, for one that is\nmoved by arguments from miracles or prophecies. Even the miracles of\nJesus owe their chief power to their benevolent character.\n\nThe ablest American writer on the Evidences of Christianity, Rev. Mark\nHopkins, makes the moral and internal evidence almost everything, and\nthe external ones next to nothing.\n\nThe Rev. F. C. Cooke, Canon of Exeter, in his lecture before the\nChristian Evidence Society of London, says, 'The one great evidence, the\nmaster evidence, the evidence with which all other evidences will stand\nor fall, is Christ Himself speaking by His own word. It is the character\nof Jesus that makes men feel that He and His religion are divine. It is\nthis that warms men's hearts, and wins their love, and produces a faith\nfull of life and power. Other evidences apart from this leave men cold,\nand indifferent, or opposed to Christ.' But more on this point\nhereafter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nGOES INTO POLITICS. ARRESTED. LODGED IN PRISON. ELECTED TOWN COUNCILLOR,\nMEMBER OF PARLIAMENT, &C.\n\n\nIn 1846, I began to dabble in politics. And my views of political\nsubjects were as much out of the ordinary way as my views on matters\npertaining to religion. I was a republican. I would have no King, no\nQueen, no House of Lords, and no State Church. I would abolish the laws\nof entail and primogeniture, and reduce land to a level with other kinds\nof property. The sale of land should be as untrammelled as that of\ncommon merchandise, and it should be as liable to be taken for debt. I\nbroached startling views with regard to the right of property in land,\nand urged that as it was naturally common property, it should be\nconsidered as belonging, in part, to the nation, or Government, and made\nto bear the principal burden of taxation. I recommended that the\nproperty of the church should be used for the promotion of education. I\nproposed to divide the country into equal electoral districts, and give\nto every man who was not a criminal, a vote for members of Parliament.\nAs a rule, I held up America as an example in matters of government, but\nobjected to a Senate and a four years' President, preferring to place\nall power in the hands of one Body, the direct representatives of the\npeople. A committee of that Body should be the _ministry_, and the\nchairman of that committee the President.\n\nI really believed that this would be the perfection of Government. And\nif all men were naturally good, as Unitarianism taught, what could be\nwiser or better calculated to secure the happiness of a nation, than to\ngive every one an equal share of the power? I believed with Paine, that\na pure and unqualified democracy would secure the strictest economy, the\ngreatest purity, the best laws, and the most perfect administration of\nthe laws. I also believed that a pure unmixed democracy would prevent\ninsurrections, rebellions, and civil war, and that it would promote\npeace with all the world. True, I believed the people would require\neducation, but I also believed that an ultra democracy would see to it\nthat the people _were_ educated, and educated in the best possible way.\nWere not the people educated in America? And were we not taught that the\neducational system of America was the result of its democratic form of\nGovernment? And were not Price and Priestley democrats? And were not\nChanning and Parker, the two great lights of Unitarianism in America,\ndemocrats? Democracy then was the remedy for the evils of the world; the\none thing needful to the salvation of our race.\n\nMore extravagant or groundless notions have seldom entered the mind of\nman. Yet I accepted them as the true political gospel, and exerted\nmyself to the utmost to propagate them among the masses of my\ncountrymen. The Irish reformers demanded a repeal of the Union and the\nright of self-government. I advocated both repeal for Ireland and\nRepublicanism for England. And in all my speeches and publications I\ngave utterance to the bitterest reproaches against the aristocracy, and\nagainst all who took their part. I had suffered grievously in my early\ndays. I had been subjected to all the hardships and miseries of extreme\npoverty. I had spent three years on the verge of starvation, never\nknowing, more than twice or thrice during the whole of that dreadful\nperiod, what it was to have the gnawings of hunger appeased by a\nplentiful meal. I had seen one near and dear to me perish for want of\nfood, and had escaped the same sad fate myself by a kind of miracle\nonly. And all these sufferings I believed to have been caused by the\ncorn and provision laws, enacted and maintained by the selfishness of\nthe aristocracy. I regarded the aristocracy therefore, and all who took\ntheir part, as my personal enemies; as men who had robbed me of my daily\nbread, and all but sent me to an untimely grave. I regarded them as the\ngreatest of criminals, as the enemies of the human race. I considered\nthem answerable for the horrors of the first great French Revolution,\nand for the miseries of the Irish famine. I gave them credit for nothing\ngood. True, they had allowed the Reform Bill of 1831 to pass, but not\ntill they saw that a refusal would cause a revolution. They had accepted\nfree trade, but not till they saw that to reject it would be their ruin.\nI had not then learnt that in legislating with an eye to their own\ninterests they had done no more than other classes are accustomed to do\nwhen they get possession of power. I had not yet discovered that the\ngerms of selfish legislation and tyranny are sown in the hearts of all,\nand that the faults of the higher classes prevail among all classes\nunder different forms. I saw the misdoings of the parties in power, and\nlooked no further, and I heaped on them the bitterest invectives. My\npassionate hatred of the privileged classes, expressed in the plainest\nEnglish, and justified, apparently, by so much that was bad in the\nhistory of their doings, roused the indignation of my hearers and\nreaders to the highest pitch. I commenced a periodical, which at once\nbecame a favorite with the ultra democrats, and speedily gained an\nextensive circulation.\n\nIn 1847, in my _Companion to the Almanacs_, I foretold the French\nRevolution of 1848. How it happened I do not exactly know; but I have,\nat times, made remarkable guesses, and this perhaps was one of them.\nWhen the Revolution took place it caused a tremendous excitement in\nevery nation in Europe. Kings and emperors found it necessary to promise\ntheir subjects constitutional governments. It turned the heads of many\npeople in England. Numbers who had never been politicians before, became\npoliticians then. And many politicians who had previously been moderate\nin their views, became wild and revolutionary. The Chartists clamored\nfor \"the Charter, the whole Charter, and nothing but the Charter.\"\nMeetings were held in almost every part of the country, and speeches\nwere delivered, and publications were circulated, of a most inflammatory\ncharacter. Monster demonstrations were got up, and many who did not take\npart in them encouraged them, in hopes that they would frighten the\nGovernment into large concessions to the party of reform. A meeting of\nthe leading reformers was called in London, and I was present. Young\nStansfield, now member of Parliament, was there, and Sergeant Parry, and\nEdward Miall, and Henry Vincent, and a number of others. The Chartists\narranged for a convention in London, and I was sent as a member. The\nmeeting cut but a pitiful figure. It soon got into unspeakable disorder.\nThe second day the question was, \"What means should we recommend our\nconstituents to use in order to obtain the reforms they desired?\" I,\nextravagant as I had shown myself on many points, had always set myself\nagainst resort to violence. My counsel therefore was for peaceful, legal\nmeasures. Ernest Jones and several others clamored for organization,\nwith a view to an armed insurrection. By and by we got into confusion\nagain. Some one hinted that agents of the Government were present, and\nthat we were venturing on dangerous ground. Ernest Jones replied, \"It is\nnot for us to be afraid of the Government, but for the Government to be\nafraid of us.\" Confusion got worse confounded. I began to be ashamed of\nmy position. Mad as I was, I was not insane enough for the leaders of\nthe convention, so I started home.\n\nOn Good Friday there was an immense meeting on Skircoat Moor, near\nHalifax, and I was one of the speakers. It was the largest assembly I\never saw. The Speakers that preceded me talked about the uselessness of\ntalk, and called for action. I talked about the usefulness of talk, and\ncontended that resort to violence would be both folly and wickedness.\nWhile I was speaking, a man in the crowd on my left fired a pistol, as\nif to intimidate me, and encourage the party favorable to insurrection.\nI at once denounced him as a traitor, who had come to hurry the people\ninto crime, or a madman, whom no one ought for a moment to think of\nimitating. The physical force men were terribly vexed at my remarks, but\nthe mass of the meeting applauded my counsels, and the immense concourse\ndispersed and went home, without either perpetrating a crime, or meeting\nwith an accident.\n\nMy advocacy of peace was duly appreciated by some even of those who\nlamented the extravagance of my views on other subjects. Others looked\non me with unmitigated horror. And the feelings of the richer classes\ngenerally against me rose to such a pitch at length, that it was hardly\nsafe for me to go abroad after dark. My religious and political\nopponents joined their forces, and seemed bent on my destruction. They\nbelieved I was undermining the foundations of society, and throwing all\nthings into confusion. They looked on me as little better than a madman,\nscattering abroad firebrands, arrows, and death. And many treated me as\na kind of outlaw, as a man who had no rights that anybody was bound to\nrespect; and rude boys and reckless men took liberties with my property,\nand even threatened me with death. Insurance companies would not insure\nmy property. Schoolmasters would not admit my sons into their schools,\nlest others should take their children away. Mothers would not allow\ntheir daughters to play with my little daughter, lest she should infect\nthem with her father's heresies.\n\nAfter the Summer Assizes in 1848, the judge at Liverpool issued Bench\nwarrants for the arrest of a number of political agitators, and in the\nlist of the names of those parties, published in the newspapers, mine\nwas included. As I had always kept within the limits of the law, and as\nI had received no visit from the police, I supposed that my name had\nbeen inserted in the list by mistake. And as I was allowed to remain at\nlarge for six weeks, I felt confident that it was either some other\nJoseph Barker that was wanted, or that my name had been mentioned as one\nof the parties to be arrested, in jest, or to frighten me into silence.\n\nAnd the probability is, that if I had kept at home and remained quiet, I\nshould have been permitted to go on with my business undisturbed. But I\nhad an engagement at the end of six weeks, to give two political\nlectures at Bolton. Just about that time a vacancy occurred in the\nrepresentation of that Borough, and my friends there, without consulting\nme, put me forward as a candidate for the vacant seat, and announced my\nlectures as a statement of my political views, urging the people to come\nand hear me, and judge for themselves, whether I was not the fittest man\nto represent them in the National Legislature.\n\nI gave my first lecture on a Friday night, to a crowded and excited\naudience in the Town Hall, and when I had done, the people passed a\nresolution by acclamation, to the effect that I was just the man for\nthem, and that they would have no other.\n\nOn the Saturday I went on into Wales, to fulfil an engagement which I\nhad for the Sunday, and returned on Monday to give my second lecture.\nWhen I got near to Bolton, some friends met me, and told me that the\npolice from Manchester were in the town looking for me, and that I had\nbetter go right home. I said, \"Nay, I never broke an engagement yet, and\nI won't do so now;\" so I went on. As soon as I had rested myself a\nlittle I went direct to the head of the Manchester police, and asked him\nif he would not allow me to deliver my lecture, promising, if he wished\nit, to go with him quietly afterwards. He said, No, I could not be\nallowed to deliver my lecture, and added, that I must consider myself\nhis prisoner. I, of course, offered no resistance, but at his request\nwent with him at once to the railway station. The people had already\ncollected in the streets as I passed along, and there was soon an\nexcited crowd at the station, but I and my friends urged them to be\npeaceful, and peaceful they were. We were soon at Manchester, and I was\ntaken at once to the City Jail, where lodgings had been procured for me\nat the public expense. I passed the night in an underground cell, of the\nkind provided for criminals of the baser sort. It was anything but clean\nand sweet, and the conduct of the authorities in placing me in such a\nhole, when I was not even charged with any gross offence, was neither\nwise nor just. There were some raised boards on one side, but no bed, no\nsheets, no blankets.\n\nIt was not long before a number of friends who had heard of my arrest,\ncalled to see me, and were admitted to my dungeon. They brought some\nfood, some candles, and as they had been informed that I had not been\npermitted to wash myself before being locked up, one of them, a lady,\nbrought me a moistened towel with which to wipe my face. While these\nkind friends were trying to make things comfortable for me in my prison,\nothers were running to and fro in search of bail, with a view to my\nspeedy release. One dear, good soul, Mr. Travers Madge, when he heard\nthat I was in jail, started at once for Mossley, a distance of ten or\neleven miles, to see Mr. Robinson, a faithful friend, to request him to\ncome to my help. It was two o'clock in the morning when, weary and full\nof anxiety, he knocked at Mr. Robinson's door. Mr. Robinson rose as soon\nas he heard his voice, and took him into the house, and requested him to\ntake something to eat, and go to rest till daylight, promising to start\nwith him back to Manchester by the earliest conveyance. But poor Mr.\nMadge could neither eat nor sleep till his friend was out of prison.\n\nEarly in the morning I was brought into court. Bail was offered at once,\nbut the magistrates would not accept bail so early, though offered by\nwell-known and thoroughly respectable parties. The reason was, the\nelection was to take place at Bolton that day, and the magistrates were\nafraid that if I were allowed to be present, there might be more\nexcitement than would be consistent with the peace and safety of the\nBorough. So they kept me in prison till four o'clock, when they received\nintelligence that the election was over, and that all was peaceful. They\nthen set me at liberty. I went at once to Bolton, and found, sure\nenough, that I had been elected, and that by an immense majority, of\nmore than eight to one. And as no one else was elected at that time,\neither by show of hands or a poll, I was, in truth, the only legal\nrepresentative, though I never sat in Parliament. Explanations after.\n\nI was soon surrounded by a vast multitude of people, to whom I gave a\nshort address. As soon as I could get away from the excited crowd, I\nhastened home. A friend had started for Wortley as soon as I was out of\nprison, to inform my wife and children that I was safe and at liberty,\nand he was there when I arrived. It fortunately happened that my family\nheard of my imprisonment and of my liberation at the same time, and from\nthe same lips, so that the shock they received was not so severe as it\nmight have been. But they were terribly tried. It would be vain to\nattempt to describe their feelings when they saw me enter the house. I\ndid my best to comfort them, and assured them that I should take no\nhurt.\n\nI was bound over to appear to take my trial at the Winter Assizes on a\ncharge of sedition and conspiracy, and I set to work to prepare for the\nevent. A good kind friend residing at Barnard Castle, George Brown,\nEsq., who had helped me in my contests with my theological opponents,\nhelped me in this new trial. He had studied the law all his life, and\nwas a most faithful and trustworthy adviser. He directed me what steps\nto take, and all his instructions proved wise and good.\n\nMy friends set on foot a subscription, to procure for me the ablest\ndefence, and raised, in the course of a few weeks, from two to three\nhundred pounds. I am amazed when I look back to those days, at the\nnumber and ardor of my friends, and at the eagerness with which they\nhastened to my aid.\n\nSome friends from Holbeck, in the Borough of Leeds, requested me to\nallow myself to be put forward as a candidate for the Town Council at\nthe approaching election. Not thinking that I should have any chance of\nbeing elected, I hesitated; but as they expressed a contrary opinion,\nand seemed exceedingly anxious that I should place myself in their\nhands, I complied with their request. They elected me by the largest\nnumber of votes that had ever been given for a town councillor in any\nborough in the kingdom up to that time. My neighbors chose this method\nof testifying their regard for me, and of protesting against the conduct\nof the Government in interfering with my liberty.\n\nAt length the Assizes came. I made my appearance in court at the time\nappointed, with more than thirty voluntary witnesses by my side, all\nprepared to testify, that in my lectures and public speeches I had\nuniformly advocated peaceful measures, and denounced everything in the\nshape of conspiracy, violence, or insurrection. I waited ten days for my\ntrial, attending in court all the time. I watched the trials of other\npolitical prisoners, and was not a little discouraged to find that they\nwere all convicted, and sentenced, generally, to lengthy terms of\nimprisonment. The charge against one of the prisoners was, that he had\nsold and circulated seditious publications. Copies of the works which he\nwas charged with circulating were brought into court. What were my\nfeelings when I found that the publications were my own _Companion to\nthe Almanacs_, and my weekly periodical _The People_. These works were\nhanded about the court, and placed in the hands of the judge. The man\nwas convicted, and sentenced to two years' imprisonment. What chance was\nthere now for me? My solicitor advised me to plead guilty, telling me I\nshould thus get off with a lighter punishment; but I refused. Some _did_\nplead guilty, and _did_ get off with lighter punishments than those who\nstood their trial; but I was determined to have a public trial, or else\nbe honorably discharged.\n\nIt was alarming enough to see a man convicted for selling my\npublications: but something still more alarming happened the following\nday. A most unprincipled and lying witness was brought forward by the\nAttorney-General. During the trial of one of the Chartist leaders he\nswore that he had himself formed one of a band of conspirators in\nManchester, who pledged themselves to burn the city, and who had\nprepared the most destructive combustibles to secure the success of\ntheir horrible plot. When asked to name the parties composing the\nmeeting at which he said he had been present, he named me as one. I was\nhorrified. I had never seen the man before in all my life, and the idea\nthat I should be a party to such a plot as he had described, was\nmonstrous; but what was to hinder a prejudiced or a frightened jury from\nbelieving his testimony? Fortunately for me, the Judge asked him if he\nsaw in court, and could point out, any of the persons he had named as\nparties to the conspiracy. I stood within two or three yards of him, and\nlooked him full in the face. It was plain from the way in which his\nwandering eyes passed by me, that whatever other parties he might know,\nhe did not know me. At length he pointed out a person that he said was\npresent at the secret meeting. 'What is his name?' said the Judge. The\nfellow gave a name. It was not the right one. He pointed out another.\n'What is his name?' said the Judge again. The fellow gave a name. He was\nwrong again. The court got out of patience with the villain, and the\nJudge ordered him into custody to await his trial on a charge of\nperjury. This was an unspeakable relief both to me and to my anxious\nwife and friends, who had witnessed the dreadful affair with the most\nintense anxiety and alarm.\n\nSome time after this horrible exhibition of baseness, my solicitor came\nto me and told me that he had had an interview with the\nAttorney-General, and that he had authorized him to say, that if I would\nenter into bonds and give securities to keep the peace, he would not ask\nme to plead guilty, but set me at liberty without more to do. He even\noffered, at last, to accept my own recognizances to the small amount of\nfifty pounds, without any other security. I refused the offer. To give\nbonds to keep the peace seemed like an acknowledgment that I had\nattempted or threatened to break it; and I had done no such thing. My\nsolicitor said the offer was a very generous one, and pressed me very\nearnestly to accept it: my counsel did the same; but without effect. A\nnumber of friends came round me and tried to remove my objections to the\nmeasure: but all was vain. I was sorry to go against their advice, but\nmy feeling was, that to agree to the compromise proposed would be a\nsacrifice of principle, and would entail dishonor on me, and be followed\nby self-reproach and shame. At last, to obtain a little respite, and to\nget out of the way of my importunate friends for a time, I told my\nsolicitor that I would lay the matter before my wife, and that whatever\nshe might advise, I would do. He agreed to this. He was satisfied that\nthere was not a woman in the country that would not advise her husband\nto make a concession like that required of me, rather than see him run\nthe risk of two or three years' imprisonment.\n\nMy wife was at Southport just then, some eighteen miles away, and it was\ntoo late for me to get to her that evening, so I had to spend the night\nalone in Liverpool. I went to bed, but found it impossible to sleep. My\nanxious mind kept turning over and over the proposal of the\nAttorney-General, and trying to find some good reason for accepting it;\nbut all in vain. I had promised to be guided by my wife; but suppose she\nshould counsel me to give the required security, could I do so and be\nhappy? It seemed impossible. It struck twelve,--it struck\none--two--three, and I was still unsettled. At last I said, 'I will\nexplain my misgivings to my wife,--I will tell her that I feel as if I\nshould never be happy to consent to the compromise,--that I cannot get\nrid of the feeling that it would be dishonorable. And I know she will\nnever advise me to do anything that I regard as dishonorable.' As soon\nas I had fairly decided what to do, I fell asleep.\n\nI was at Southport in the morning by the earliest conveyance, and laid\nthe matter before my wife. 'Do nothing,' said she, 'that you regard as a\nsacrifice of principle, or an act of dishonor. Whatever you believe to\nbe your duty, do it; I am willing to take the consequences.' I answered,\n'I believe it my duty to insist on a trial, or on an honorable\ndischarge,' 'Then insist on it,' said she. That was enough. I returned\nto Liverpool at once, and told my solicitor the result of my interview\nwith my wife, and he communicated the intelligence to the\nAttorney-General. The Attorney-General was very much vexed, and, using\nan expression which we cannot with propriety repeat, declared that he\nwould 'make me squeak.'\n\nThe result of my refusal was that the Attorney-General put off my case\nto the very last. On the eleventh day of the Assizes I was placed in the\ndock with a number of prisoners who had agreed to plead guilty, and\nenter into bonds. My name was called at length, and I refused either to\nplead guilty, or to be bound to keep the peace. 'Can there be any man\nso foolish as not to accept the mercy of her Majesty?' said the Judge.\nMy answer was, that I had committed no crime, and that it was justice\nthat I wanted, and not mercy. 'I demand a trial,' said I, 'or an\nhonorable discharge. I have been arrested on a charge of sedition and\nconspiracy, and held up before the world as a criminal, and I claim the\nright of justifying myself before the public, unless I am honorably\ndischarged.' The Judge said I had no need to concern myself about the\npublic,--that the public did not concern itself about me. I answered\nthat the public _did_ concern itself about me; and that I was right in\nconcerning myself about the public. At this point my Counsel rose, and\nspoke of my character and position, with a view to justify my demand for\na trial, or an honorable discharge. The Attorney-General then applied\nfor a postponement of my trial to the following Assizes, alleging that I\nwas the author of a seditious and blasphemous publication. I said the\nstatement was false, and that the Attorney-General had no right to make\nsuch a charge against me, and added that to ask a postponement after I\nand my witnesses had been waiting there eleven days, was most\nunreasonable. The Judge then asked on what grounds a postponement was\ndesired. When the Attorney-General stated his grounds, the Judge\npronounced them insufficient. The Attorney-General then said he should\nenter a _nolle prosequi_. Some of my friends, when they heard this, were\ngreatly alarmed. They supposed it to be a threat of something very\nterrible, and expected to see me carried away at once to prison. And\nsome of the bystanders began to reproach me, and say I was rightly\nserved for not accepting the generous offer of the Attorney-General. I,\nof course, knew that the Attorney-General's _nolle prosequi_ meant that\nhe would have nothing more to do with me, and that I was now free. While\ntherefore my friends were fearing and trembling, I stood calm and\ncomfortable. After a few moments the Judge said 'You are at liberty, and\nmay retire.'\n\nWhen my friends found that I was free, they were wild with delight, and\nflocked round me, eager to shake me by the hand, and give me their\ncongratulations. They were now satisfied that in rejecting the proposal\nof the Attorney-General, I had done no more than my duty. One\ngentleman, who had been bail for me, was extravagant enough to declare\nthat I occupied the proudest position of any man in the country. 'You\nhave withstood the tyranny of the Government,' said he, 'and have\ntriumphed.' I hurried home as fast as I could with my happy wife and my\nexulting friends. When we got there the cannon were roaring and the\nbands playing. My workmen and neighbors had heard of my triumph, and\nwere celebrating it in the noisiest way they could. Then followed\nfeasting and public congratulations, both at home and in distant parts\nof the country, and for a time I was quite a hero.\n\nThe interference of the authorities with my liberty, and the needless\nannoyances to which they had subjected me, had roused my indignation to\na high pitch, and after my liberation, I wrote and spoke more violently\nagainst the Government than I had done before. At length the great\nexcitement in which I had so long lived, and the excessive labors in\nwhich I had been so long engaged, exhausted my strength; my health began\nto fail; I thought my constitution was giving way, so I resolved on some\nchange of position and occupation.\n\nI had long suffered from dyspepsia. For twenty years I had spent so much\nnervous energy in mental work, that I had not sufficient left to digest\nmy food. And I had suffered in consequence, not only from violent\nheart-burn, but from a more distressing pain at the pit of my stomach. I\nhad continually, or almost continually, for months together, a feeling\nas if a red-hot bullet lay burning in my stomach, or as if some living\ncreature was eating a hole through the bottom of it. I took medicine,\nbut it gave me no relief. The disuse of intoxicating drinks had once\ncured me for a time,--cured me for some years in fact,--but the\ntorturing, depressing sensation came again at last, and seemed more\nobstinate than ever.\n\nIn 1847, as I was leaving home one day in the train, I was seized with a\npain of a much more dreadful description. It seemed as if it would burst\nmy stomach, or tear it in pieces, and destroy my life at once. It\ncontinued for nearly an hour. It returned repeatedly, and remained\nsometimes for several hours. In some cases it tortured me all night.\nVomiting took it away, so I frequently took warm water to produce\nvomiting. I was advised to take more exercise in the open air, so I\nbought a gun and went out shooting. I purchased a horse and carriage\ntoo, and went out riding. These did me good. But I found that when I\ntook certain kinds of food, such as rich cakes, rich pies, or rich\npuddings, the pain returned. So I began to deny myself of those\nluxuries. But even spare living seemed to lose its effect after a time,\nand first the gnawing, and then the stretching, tearing, rending pain\nreturned.\n\nIn 1849, I took a voyage to America. Vast numbers of my readers wanted\nto emigrate to America, and they looked to me for information respecting\nthe country. I had given them the best I could get, but they wanted more\nand better. They wanted me to visit the country, and give them the\nresult of my observations and inquiries. I did so. To fit myself the\nbetter for giving them counsel, I crossed the ocean in a common emigrant\nsailing vessel, and saw how the poor creatures fared. We were nearly\neight weeks on the water. For much of the time the winds were idle. They\nrefused to blow. They might have struck for shorter hours or better pay.\nWhen they did blow, they blew with all their might, but almost always in\nthe wrong direction; as if they regarded us as their enemies, and were\nbent on giving us all the annoyance they could. Many were sick; more\nwere discontented; and all longed wearily for land. These eight weeks\nwere the longest ones I ever lived. They looked like years. At length we\ngot a sight of land, and rejoiced exceedingly. For myself, I had other\nfeelings as well as joy, when I first got sight of the great New World\nof which I had heard, and read, and thought so much, and so long, and of\nwhich I had dreamt so often. For America had lived in my thoughts from\nmy early days; and the first faint glimpse of her wooded shores thrilled\nmy whole soul with unspeakable emotions.\n\nWe landed. I examined the emigrant boarding houses. I sought information\nabout work and wages, and about means of transport to the West. I called\non Horace Greeley and others, to whom I had letters of recommendation,\nwho helped me to books about the West. I made my way through New York,\nand across Lake Erie to Cleveland. I had three brothers who were\nsettled in different parts of Ohio, and a number of old friends. I\nvisited them. I explored Ohio. I went into Western Virginia, and\nexamined some lands there that had been advertised for sale in England.\nI passed on to Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin. I spent some\ndays in Chicago. The city was awfully dull. The people were despondent.\nI almost think I could have bought the whole city for fifty thousand\npounds. I had a farm offered me for seven dollars and a half an acre, on\nwhich now a great part of the city I suppose is built. I went to\nMilwaukie. There the people seemed more hopeful; though several were\nleaving for warmer climes. It was autumn, and I treated myself freely to\nthe peaches and other rich fruits of the country. About the end of\nOctober I started for England, in one of the Cunard Steamers, crossing\nthe ocean in nine days, about one-sixth of the time I spent in the\nvoyage out.\n\nI gave to my readers an account of all I had seen, and heard, and read,\nand thousands of them left the land of their birth in search of homes in\nthe domains of the Great Republic. Some got home-sick, and cursed me.\nSome got profitable work, or promising farms, and blessed me. And I\nlearned two lessons; first, that a man must not look to men for the\nreward of his beneficent services, but to God and a good conscience;\nand, second, that some will be miserable, and that some will be happy,\ngo where they may:--that it is not the land they live in, but the\ndispositions they cherish, and the life they live, that makes their\nheaven or hell.\n\nI had already made up my mind to settle in America myself, and early in\n1851 I disposed of my business, and prepared to transport myself and my\nfamily to Central Ohio. I had suffered so long from pain, and weakness,\nand depression, and I was so utterly wearied with continual over-work,\nand so disgusted too with the government and institutions of the\ncountry, and with some of its inhabitants, that I felt it an infinite\nrelief to be freed from all further care and concern about business, and\nin the first rush of my new wild joy, I took my gun and blew off part of\nthe top of the chimney of my printing establishment. No child could be\nwilder in his delight, when escaping from long confinement in a weary\nschool, and starting for the longed-for society and pleasures of his\nhome.\n\nBut preparing for a journey of four thousand miles, with wife and\nchildren, was itself work enough for a time. There were a hundred things\nto be bought, which you would need in your new and far off home. And\nthere were a thousand things which you already had, to be packed, and as\nmany more to be set aside, to be destroyed, or sold, or given away. And\nthere were a thousand letters and papers to be examined, and a judgment\nformed, as to which should be preserved, and which should perish in the\nflames. And there were visits to be paid and repaid, and there were\npartings, and regrets, and tears. But all was over at length, and we\nwere on our way to the world beyond the flood.\n\nIt was pleasant to get away from one's religious and political\nopponents, but painful to part with so many devoted friends, who had\nproved their affection for me and for my family by so many sacrifices,\nand their steadfastness in times of so much trial. But I had hopes of\nkeeping up my intercourse with them through the Press, and of\nministering to their gratification and improvement by sending them\naccounts of all I saw or learnt of an interesting character in the land\nto which I was going. I had also hopes that a quiet home, in a retired\nand peaceful part of a new country, might prove conducive to my own\nimprovement and happiness.\n\nOne of the objects I had in view in going to America was to obtain a\nlittle quiet for calm reflection on the course I had so long been\npursuing, and a sober consideration of the position which I had reached.\nI was not satisfied that the changes which had taken place in my views\nand way of life, since my separation from the Church and the ministry,\nhad all been changes for the better. I had had suspicions for some time,\nthat amidst the whirl of perpetual excitement in which I had lived, and\nthe continual succession of angry contests in which I had been engaged,\nI had probably missed my way on some points, and I wished for a\nfavorable opportunity of ascertaining whether these suspicions were well\ngrounded or not.\n\nBut when I got to America I found myself in a condition less friendly to\ncalm reflection and to a just and impartial review of my past history,\nthan the one from which I had fled. The very day we landed in New York\nwe fell in with the Hutchinson family. I had become acquainted with them\nin England, and had spent some time in their company, and had attended\nsome of their concerts at Leeds. They were to sing that night in New\nYork, and we attended the performance, and were delighted with their\nsweet wild music, and with their wisdom and their wit. They were all\nreformers of the radical school, and though their songs and conversation\nwere not immoral or profane, they were advanced beyond the bounds of\nreligion, into the neutral ground of Latitudinarianism.\n\nWhen we got to Akron, Ohio, we found a Woman's Rights Convention in\nsession; and there we got introduced to a number of advanced spirits,\nboth male and female, and in their society became acquainted with quite\na multitude of strange and lawless speculations, of which, till then, we\nhad lived in happy or in woful ignorance. We reached at length the\nregion where we were to make our home, and now other matters engrossed\nmy mind. I had, in the first place, a farm to select, and then the\npurchase to make. I had then my goods to look after, my house to\narrange, and my food to provide. Then work wanted doing on the farm--a\nhundred kinds of work, all new, and many of them hard and very\nperplexing. We wanted men to aid us; and men were not to be got; or,\nwhen got, were difficult to manage, and hard to please. And horses, and\ncows, and sheep, were wanted; and poultry, and pigs; and ploughs, and\nharrows, and wagons, and harness. And stoves and fuel were required. And\nthe house had to be enlarged, and the barns rebuilt, and the gardens\ncultivated, and the orchard replanted. And a hundred lessons on farming\nhad to be learnt, and a hundred more to be unlearnt. And we were always\nmaking mistakes, and sustaining losses. And our neighbors were not all\nthat we could wish; and we were not all that they could wish. It was\nimpossible to avoid impositions, and difficult to take injustice\nquietly; so we remonstrated, and resisted, and made things worse.\n\nBefore we had got ourselves fairly settled we began to be visited by a\nnumber of friends. And many of those friends were wilder and more\nextravagant, in their views on religion and politics, than myself; and\ninstead of helping me to quiet reflection, did much to render such a\nthing impossible. They were mostly Garrisonian Abolitionists, with whom\nI had become acquainted while in England, or through the medium of\nanti-slavery publications. Many of them had had an experience a good\ndeal like my own. They had been members and ministers of churches, and\nhad got into trouble in consequence of their reforming tendencies, and\nhad at length been cast out, or obliged to withdraw. They had waged a\nlong and bitter war against the churches and ministers of their land,\nand had become skeptics and unbelievers of a somewhat extravagant kind.\nHenry C. Wright was an Atheist. So were some others of the party. My own\ndescent to skepticism was attributable in some measure to my intercourse\nwith them, and to a perusal of their works, while in England. The first\ndeadly blow was struck at my belief in the supernatural inspiration of\nthe Scriptures by Henry C. Wright. It was in conversation with him too\nthat my belief in the necessity of church organization was undermined,\nand that the way was smoothed to that state of utter lawlessness which\nso naturally tends to infidelity and all ungodliness. My respect for the\ntalents of the abolitionists, and the interest I felt in the cause to\nwhich they had devoted their lives, and the sympathy arising from the\nsimilar way in which we had all been treated by the churches and\npriesthoods with which we had come in contact, disposed me, first, to\nregard their skeptical views with favor, and then to accept them as\ntrue.\n\nAnd now they welcomed me to their native land, and embraced the earliest\nopportunity of visiting me in my new home. And all that passed between\nus tended to confirm us in our common unbelief. I afterwards found that\nin some of the abolitionists, in nearly all, I fear, anti-christian\nviews had led to immoral habits, which rendered their antipathy to\nChristianity all the more bitter. In almost all of them infidelity had\nproduced a lawlessness of speculation on moral matters, which could\nhardly fail to produce in the end, if it had not already produced, great\nlicentiousness of life.\n\nI had no sooner got things comfortably fixed at home, than I received\nan invitation from the American Anti-slavery Society, to attend their\nAnnual Meeting, which was to be held in Rochester, New York. I went, and\nthere I met with S. S. Foster, Abby Kelly Foster, Parker Pillsbury, C.\nL. Remond, Henry C. Wright, Wendell Phillips, W. L. Garrison, Lucy\nStone, Lucretia and Lydia Mott, and a number of other leading\nAbolitionists. Here too I met with Frederick Douglas, the celebrated\nfugitive slave, who had settled in Rochester, and was publishing his\npaper there. Some of the Anti-Slavery Leaders I had seen before in\nEngland, and had had the pleasure of having them as my guests, and of\nenjoying their conversation. Henry C. Wright, W. L. Garrison, Frederick\nDouglas, and C. L. Remond, were old acquaintances. The rest I knew only\nby report: but I had read the story of their labors and sufferings in\nbehalf of the negro slave, and had longed for years to make their\nacquaintance. They were, in my estimation, among the best and bravest of\ntheir race. I had read of them a thousand times with the greatest\ninterest, and a thousand times I had wished for the honor of\nco-operating with them in their generous labors. And now I was in their\nmidst, on American soil. And all seemed glad to make my acquaintance,\nand eager to testify their regard for me, and to welcome me to a share\nin their benevolent labors. I was soon at home with them all, for they\nwere a free and hearty people. I attended both their public and their\nprivate meetings. The anniversary lasted several days, and the time was\none continued Festival. There were people from almost every part of the\ncountry, and the house of every Anti-Slavery person in the city was\nplaced at the service of the visitors. They were as one family, and had\nall things in common. The public meetings were largely attended, and the\naudiences seemed favorably impressed. In the intervals I visited the\nFalls on the Genesee River. More beautiful and enchanting scenes I never\nbeheld. In all but terrible grandeur they equal, if they do not surpass,\nthe Falls of Niagara.\n\nAnd there was an infinite abundance of strange and exciting conversation\nin many of the circles, not only on Slavery, but on the Bible and\nReligion, on the Church and the Priesthood, and on Woman's Rights, and\nthe Bloomer Costume, and Marriage Laws, and Free-love, and Education,\nand Solomon's Rod, and Non-resistance, and Human Government, and\nCommunism, and Individualism, and Unitarianism, and Theodore Parkerism,\nand Spiritualism, and Vegetarianism, and Teetotalism, and Deism, and\nAtheism, and Clairvoyance, and Andrew Jackson Davis, and the American\nCongress, and Quakerism, and William Henry Channing, and his journey to\nEngland, and Free-soil, and the Public Lands, and the Common Right to\nthe Soil, and Rent, and Interest, and Capital, and Labor, and\nFourierism, and Congeniality of Spirit, and Natural Affinities, and\nDomestic Difficulties, and--the Good time Coming. All were full of\nreform, and most were wild and fanatical. Some regarded marriage as\nunnatural, and pleaded for Free-love as the law of life. Some were for\nCommunism, but differed as to the form which it ought to assume. One\ncontended that all should be perfectly free,--that each should be a law\nunto himself, and should work, and rest, and eat, and drink, as his own\nfree spirit should prompt him. Another said that the principle had been\ntried, and had failed,--that some were anxious to do all the eating, and\nsleeping, and loving, and left others to do all the working. Joseph\nTreat was there, advocating Atheism, and defending the right of men and\nwomen, married or single, to give free play to native tendencies and\nsexual affinities. But Treat was indifferently clad, and not well\nwashed, and he was evidently no great favorite. * * * Most were in favor\nof non-resistance, and full individual freedom. To acknowledge the right\nof human government and of human laws, was treason to humanity. Man is a\nlaw to himself. He is his own governor. The Protestant principle of the\nright of private judgment and liberty of conscience strikes at the root\nof all the governments on earth. Each one's nature is his own sole law.\nThe one principle of duty is, for every one to do that which is right in\nhis own eyes. The principle of the Anti-Slavery Society means that, and\nneither more nor less. And the Anti-Slavery Society will, after\nemancipating the negro, destroy all the governments, remodel all the\nlaws and institutions, and emancipate all the nations of the earth. Of\ncourse the laws of marriage will fall to the ground. Why not? They\noriginated only with men,--with men who lived in darker times, and who\nwere less developed, than we. It would be strange if children could make\nlaws fit to govern men. And with the laws of marriage will go the laws\nof property in land. Land was common property at first, and what right\nhad any one to make it private? The first man who appropriated land was\na thief. And those who inherited it from him were receivers of stolen\ngoods. And the title that was vicious at first could never be made valid\nby time. The continuance of a wrong can never make it right. Allow that\nmen have a right to the land in consequence of long possession and\ninheritance, and you must allow that men may have a right to their\nslaves. The right to land, and the right to slaves, are not so different\nas some would suppose. What is man's right to his own body worth, if he\nis deprived of his right to the land? Man lives from the land, and\nunless he has a right to the land, he can have no right to life. A right\nto life implies a right to the land. Men live _on_ the land as well as\n_from_ it; and if they have not a right to the land, they can have no\nright to live. And man has a right to perfect freedom. Life without\nfreedom is slavery; and slavery is the extinction of all rights, the\nright to life included. And woman has equal rights with man. And\nchildren have equal rights with either. The idea that human beings have\nno rights till they are twenty-one, is monstrous. What mighty change is\nit that takes place at the moment a person reaches the age of\ntwenty-one, that he should be a slave a moment before, and a free man a\nmoment after? No change at all takes place. The rights of a human being\nare the gift of Nature, and not the gift of the law. Who authorized men\nto make laws for one another? In making men different from each other,\nNature has made it impossible for one man to legislate wisely for\nanother. The majority have a right to rule themselves, but they have no\nfight to rule the minority. All rights are the rights of individuals,\nand the rights of individuals composing a minority, are the same as the\nrights of individuals composing a majority. A man may elect a\nrepresentative; but he cannot be bound by a representative elected by\nothers. Children should be educated, not by force or authority, but by\nattraction. The assumption of authority over a child by a parent is\nusurpation; the use of authority over a child is tyranny. The\nindividuality of a child is its life, and life is sacred. To destroy\nindividuality is murder. We have no right to take Nature's place, and\nmake a human being something different from what she has formed him.\nSolomon's rod and Paul's authority are alike immoral. All should be\ngoverned by their attractions, like the orbs of heaven, and the\nconstituents of the earth. The law of Nature is one, both for living men\nand dead matter. Our sympathies and affinities are our only rulers. They\nare ourselves,--our best selves,--and to allow either law or ruler to\ninterfere with them, is self-destruction. We are no longer ourselves\nwhen we allow ourselves to be controlled by the will or power of\nanother. Animals have equal rights with man. The poet was right when he\nsaid,\n\n     \"Take not away the life thou canst not give,\n     For all things have an equal right to live.\"\n\nHow _can_ man have a right to take away the life of an animal? The lower\nanimals occupied the world before man, and man, a later comer, could not\nabrogate the prior rights of his predecessors. The use of animal food is\nunnatural. It is unhealthy. In feeding on other living creatures man\ndegrades, corrupts, and then destroys himself. And vegetables, grains,\nand fruits should be taken in their natural state. The art of cooking is\nan unnatural innovation. The first of our race did not cook. Man is the\nonly cooking animal, and he is the only sickly one. He is the only one\nthat loses his teeth, or suffers from indigestion. Teetotalism is\nbinding on all. Alcohol is an unnatural product. Man is the only being\nunnatural enough to drink it. Grapes are good, and so is grain; but\nwine, and beer, and spirits, are a trinity of devils, which destroy the\nbodies and torment the souls of unnatural men. \"There is no God,\" said\none. \"Gods and devils are alike fantastic creatures of the erring mind\nof man.\" \"But there _must_ be a God,\" said another. \"All nature cries\naloud there is a God. Our own hearts' instincts--our highest\nintuitions,--assure us there is. As well deny the universe, and the\nprimal intuitions of humanity, as the being of God. A God and a future\nlife are necessities of human nature. And there is, _without_ us, a\nsupply for every want _within_ us. As soon will you find a race of\nbeings with appetites for food, for whom no food is provided, as a race\nwith longings for God and desires for immortality, while no God and\nimmortality exist to meet those longings, to satisfy those desires.\"\n\"But if there be a God to answer to our longings, and a blessed\nimmortality to satisfy our desires, why not a devil to answer to our\nfears, and a hell to answer to our guilty terrors? And would a God leave\nus without a revelation of his will.\" \"The instincts of our nature are\nthe revelation of God's will. To obey our instincts is to obey the law\nof God.\" \"Then is the law of God as various as men's natural tendencies?\nDoes the murderer, whose tendency is to kill, obey the law of God, as\nwell as the victim who struggles to escape his doom? And does the eagle\nobey the law of God in pouncing on the dove, and the dove in seeking to\nevade its talons? Is every tendency the law of God? If it be the will of\nGod that the powerful tendencies of some should neutralize the feebler\ntendencies of others, is not might, right? And if might be right, why\nmurmur at anything that is? For everything that is, exists by virtue of\nits might: and every thing that perishes, perishes in virtue of its\nweakness. Are you not sanctioning the doctrine of the Optimist, and\nsaying with Pope,\n\n     \"In spite of sense, in erring reason's spite,\n     One truth is clear--whatever _is_, is RIGHT.\"\n\n\"Whatever is, _is_ right,\" says another. \"It is the result of eternal\nwisdom, of almighty power, and infinite love. God is all perfect, and He\nis all in all. A perfect God could have nothing short of a perfect\nobject in all His works, a perfect motive prompting Him, a perfect rule\nto guide Him; and, as the author of all existence, a perfect material\nout of which to make the creatures of His love. All is perfect. It is\nmen's own imperfection that makes them think otherwise.\" \"All is\nperfect,\" you say, \"yet man is _imperfect_; and his imperfection makes\nhim think other things imperfect. All is perfect, yet something is\nimperfect; and that something is the most perfect or the least imperfect\ncreature in existence.\" \"Imperfection itself is a part of perfection,\"\nsays the Optimist. \"As discords are necessary to the highest musical\ncompositions; so imperfection is necessary to the highest perfection.\"\n\n\"The most difficult point of all,\" says a philosophical Unitarian, \"is\nthat of necessity. Every thing must have a cause. Man's actions are the\nresult of physical causes; yet man is consciously free.\" \"Man is no more\nfree than the planets,\" says an Atheist. \"He _acts_ freely, as the\nplanets do,--that is, he acts in harmony with his tendencies,--in\nharmony with the causes of his actions,--the causes of his actions cause\nthem by causing him to will them, by inclining him to do them; and the\ncauses of planetary action produce that action in the same way: but the\nfreedom and the necessity are the same in the one case as in the other.\nAll is free, and all is bound. The chain is infinite, eternal, and\nalmighty. The difference between man and a planet is, that man is\nconscious of his acts, and the planet is not.\" \"Then duty is a dream,\"\nsaid a third, \"and conscience a delusion; and responsibility a fiction;\nand virtue and vice are alike unworthy of either praise or blame, reward\nor punishment.\" \"A tree is not responsible,\" said the Necessitarian,\n\"yet we cut it down, if it bears no fruit; and we cut off the natural\nbranches, and insert new scions, if its fruit is not to our liking. A\nmusquito is irresponsible, yet we kill it when it gives us pain. A horse\nis irresponsible, yet we caress it when it gives us pleasure.\" \"So man\nis no more than a tree, a musquito, or a horse! And selfishness is the\nmeasure of our duty! We caress or kill as we are pleased or pained.\" And\nso the conversation ran on in one party.\n\nIn another the Bible is the subject of conversation. But here all are\nagreed on the principal point. No one regards it as of supernatural\norigin, or of Divine authority. The question is, whether the\nAnti-Slavery Society shall acknowledge that the clergy are right in\nsaying that the Bible sanctions Slavery. \"That it does sanction Slavery\nis certain,\" says one. \"Abraham was a slave-holder, a slave-trader, and\na slave-breeder. Isaac inherited his slave property. Jacob had slaves,\nand had offspring by two of them. Moses allows the Jews to buy up the\nnations round about them, and to hold them as slaves, as a _possession_,\nand to transmit them as an inheritance to their children for ever. The\nDecalogue recognizes slaves as property. Jesus never condemns\nslave-holding, and Paul returns a fugitive, to his master. Take the\nclergy at their word. Acknowledge that their sacred book does sanction\nSlavery. Acknowledge that it allows a master to flog his slave to death,\non the ground that the slave is his money. Acknowledge too that it\nallows the slave-holder to make his female slaves his concubines.\nAcknowledge every thing. Take the preachers' side in the matter, and you\nwill shock the preachers, and you will shock the public, and cause them\nto give up the defence of Slavery.\" \"The slave-holders are not governed\nby the Bible,\" says another. \"Their appeal to it is only a pretence,--an\n_argumentum ad hominem_. They favor Slavery because it is profitable,\nand because they like it. Make it unprofitable, and they will soon find\na different interpretation for the Bible.\" \"Show that the Bible is no\nauthority,--that it is merely a human book,--and you take away their\nargument for Slavery,\" said one. \"Their argument is force,\" said\nanother, \"and you will never abolish Slavery till you take up arms and\ncrush the tyrants.\" \"But the Bible is the question,\" says a third. \"Call\na Convention to discuss the Bible,\" said I, and the Convention was\naccordingly called.\n\nAnd thus the conversation ran in private circles, during the intervals\nof the public meetings.\n\nI had supposed, that as the people of America had got a Democratic form\nof government, no further reforms were necessary, except the Abolition\nof Slavery. I now found however that there were more Reformers, and a\ngreater variety of Reformers, in the circle into which I had fallen,\nthan in England. There was nothing right,--nothing as it ought to be.\nThe family, the church, the school, the government, religion, morals,\nand even nature were all wrong. The world was full of prejudice. We were\nheirs of all the mistakes of our forefathers for a thousand generations.\n\"Every thing wants destroying,\" said one, \"that every thing may be\ncreated anew.\" The oracle of the universe cries, \"Behold, I make all\nthings new;\" and that oracle we ought to echo; and on that oracle we\nought to act. \"'When I was a child, I thought as a child, I spoke as a\nchild, I understood as a child; but when I became a man, I put away\nchildish things.' Such was the language of the great Reformer of\nantiquity. The human race should adopt the same language, and follow the\ngreat example. The race should say, 'When _I_ was a child, _I_ thought\nas a child, _I_ spoke as a child, _I_ understood as a child; but now,\nhaving become a man, _I_ will put away childish things.' I will put away\nmy childish thoughts on religion, on science, on morals, on government,\non education, on marriage, on slavery, on war, on every thing. The fact\nthat they are old, is a proof they are wrong. The clothes which fit a\nchild _cannot_ fit a man. The notions, the institutions, the laws, which\nwere good for the world's infancy, cannot be good for its manhood.\" \"And\nthey _shall_ be put away, so far as I am concerned,\" said a lady. \"And\nthey shall be put away, so far as I am concerned,\" answered another. \"Ye\nare born again,\" says a third. \"That noble declaration proves you new\ncreatures. Old things are passed away; behold, all things _are_ become\nnew.\"\n\nA thousand wild sentiments were uttered; a thousand extravagant things\nwere said; and many unwise things were done. It was plain that a license\nof thought was preparing the way, had already prepared the way, for a\nlicense of deed. This license produced a fearful amount of mischief\nbefore long. It had produced no little then. Many a domestic\nschism,--many a disgraceful alliance,--many a broken heart,--were the\nresult of those lawless, wanton speculations.\n\nAnd some came to see their folly and repented in part. Lucy Stone\ndeclared she would never marry according to law; but she married\naccording to law in the end, contenting herself with recording a vain\nand foolish protest. Harriet K. Hunt would never pay any more taxes till\nshe was allowed to vote, and was eligible to the Presidency of the\nUnited States. Whether she has paid her tax or not we do not know; but\nshe has not yet got a vote, and is certainly not yet the President of\nthe United States. Mrs. C. L. made a declaration, the publication of\nwhich covered her hard-working and excellent husband with shame; but she\ntoo has since seen her error, and endeavored to make all things right.\n\nIt was rather amusing, but somewhat startling,--it was very bewildering,\nyet very instructive,--to listen to all the projects and theories of a\nmultitude of thoughtful people, suddenly emancipated from religion and\nmoral obligation, and from law and custom, and to speculate on what\nmight be the result of so much extravagance. It put humanity before one\nin a new light. It was a new revelation. And all those people were\neducated up to the American standard. And they were all in tolerable\ncircumstances. Some were rich, and most were owners of the lands on\nwhich they lived. Several of them had been ministers of the Gospel. Many\nof them were authors. And their appearance and manners were often equal\nto those of the best. And some of them could hardly be excelled as\npublic speakers. Some of the lady speakers were the best I ever heard.\nAfter mingling in such society, and witnessing such a strange breaking\nup of \"the fountains of the great deep\" of thought, and fancy, and\nanimal passion, it is hard to say what might not take place in the\nworld, if the spirit of infidel reform which is pervading the nations\nshould become general.\n\nI returned to my home neither a better nor a wiser man. But I was full\nof thought. I had been afraid that in the excitement of controversy, and\nunder the smart of persecution, I had gone too far. But here were people\nwho had gone immeasurably farther. I was afraid I had been too rash. But\nhere were pleasant looking and educated people, compared with whom I was\nthe perfection of sobriety. And the sense of my comparative moderation\nquieted my fears, prevented salutary investigation, and prepared me to\ngo still farther in the way of doubt. New books were placed in my hands,\nall favorable to anti-christian views. I got new friends and\nacquaintances, and all were of the doubting, unbelieving class. Several\nof them were atheists, and insinuated doubts with regard to the\nfoundation of all religious belief. Till my settlement in America I had\ncontinued to believe, not only in God, and providence, and prayer, but\nin immortality; and to look on Atheism as the extreme of folly. But now\nmy faith in those doctrines began to be shaken. Instead of drawing back\nfrom the gulf of utter unbelief, and retracing my steps toward Christ as\nI had partly hoped, I got farther astray; and though I did not plunge\nheadlong into Atheism, I came near to the dreadful abyss, and was not a\nlittle bewildered with the horrible mists that floated round its brink.\n\nThus my hopes of calm and quiet thought, and of a sober reconsideration\nof the steps I had taken in the path of doubt and unbelief, were all,\nalas! exploded, and the last state of my soul was worse than the first.\n\nTo make things worse, I got into trouble with my Christian neighbors. My\nalienation from Christ had already produced in me a deterioration of\ncharacter. I was not exactly aware of it at the time, and if I had been\ntold of it, I might not have been able to believe it; but such was\nreally the case. The matter is clear to me now past doubt. I had become\nless courteous, less conciliatory, less agreeable. I had discarded, to\nsome extent, the Christian doctrines of meekness and humility. My temper\nhad suffered. I was sooner provoked, and was less forgiving, I was more\nprompt in asserting my rights, and more prone perhaps to regard as\nrights what were no such things. And I made myself enemies in\nconsequence, and got into unhappy disputes and painful excitements.\n\nI imagined, I suppose, while in England, that the disturbers of my peace\nwere all outside me, and that when I went to America I should leave them\nall behind; but I see now that many of them were within me, and that I\ncarried them with me over the sea, to my far-off Western home. And they\ngave me as much trouble in my new abode as they had given me in my old\none. It is the state of our minds that determines the measure of our\nbliss. As Burns says,\n\n     \"If happiness have not her seat\n       And centre in the breast,\n     We may be wise, or rich, or great,\n       But never can be blest.\n     No treasures, nor pleasures.\n       Can make us happy long;\n     The _heart_ ay's the part ay\n       That makes us right or wrong.\"\n\nAnd my heart was out of tune, and tended to put everything around me out\nof tune.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nTHE STORY OF MY DESCENT FROM THE FAITH OF MY CHILDHOOD, TO DOUBT AND\nUNBELIEF.\n\n\nMy parents were Methodists of the strictest kind, and they did their\nutmost to make their children Methodists. And they were very successful.\nThey had eleven children, ten of which became members of the Methodist\nSociety before they were twenty years of age; and even the odd one did\nnot escape the influence of religion altogether.\n\nI was a believer in God and Christ, in duty and immortality, from my\nearliest days. And my faith was strong. Things spiritual were as real to\nme as things natural. Things seen and things unseen, things temporal and\nthings eternal, formed one great whole,--one solemn and boundless\nuniverse. I lived and breathed in a spiritual world.\n\nMy parents were rigorously consistent. They were true Christians. They\nnot only talked, but looked and lived as persons who felt themselves in\nthe presence of a great and holy God, and in the face of an awful\neternity; and the influence of their godly life, and daily prayers, and\nsolemn counsels fell on me with a power that was irresistible.\n\nIf the doctrine taught me in my early days had been the doctrine of\nChrist, and the doctrine of Christ alone, in a form adapted to my\nyouthful mind, the probability is, that I should have grown up to\nmanhood, and passed through life a happy, useful and consistent\nChristian. But I was taught other doctrines. Though my father and mother\ntaught me little but what was Christian, doctrines were taught me by\nothers that shocked both my reason and my sense of right. I was taught,\namong other things, that in consequence of the sin of Adam, God had\ncaused me to come into the world utterly depraved, and incapable, till I\nwas made over again, of thinking one good thought, of speaking one good\nword, or of doing one good deed. I felt that I did think good thoughts,\nand that I had good feelings, and that I both said and did good things.\nBut this I was told was a great delusion:--that nothing was good, and\nthat nothing was pleasing to God, unless it came from faith in Christ.\nBut I _had_ faith in Christ. I believed in Him with all my heart. I had\nbelieved in Him from the first. The answer was that I had believed with\na _common_ kind of faith, but that it was another kind of faith that was\nnecessary to salvation, and that whatsoever did not spring from this\nother kind of faith, was sin. And I was given to understand, that if I\nthought otherwise, it was because of the naughtiness of my heart, which,\nI was told, was deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. What\nthis other kind of faith was, I did not know, and could not learn. I was\nthen told that the natural man could not understand the things of the\nSpirit, and that before I could understand them, I must experience a\nchange from nature to grace; all of which was past my comprehension. I\nwas then informed that I must wait till God revealed those things unto\nme by His Spirit. But this made the matter no plainer.\n\nI was further taught, that I was, in some way, answerable for Adam's\nsin,--that God made Adam the federal head of all mankind, and that all\nwere bound by what he did;--that if he had done right, all would have\ncome into the world pure, and good, and happy, and sure of eternal life;\nbut that through his sin, we wore all born, not only utterly depraved,\nbut guilty and liable to eternal damnation.\n\nThen followed strange things about satisfaction to offended justice,\ntrust in Christ's merits and righteousness, justification, regeneration,\nand sanctification, all mysteries as dark to me as night.\n\nSometime after, I found in my Catechism the doctrine of God's absolute\nand infinite fore-knowledge,--the doctrine that from eternity God knew\nwho should be saved and who should be lost. This gave me the most\nterrible shock of all. It was plain that my doom was fixed forever. For\nif it was certainly foreknown, it must he unchangeably fixed.\n\nThese dreadful doctrines filled me with horror. They all but drove me\nmad. For a time, when I was about eight or nine years old, they _did_\ndrive me mad. They were more than my nature could bear. I felt that if\nthings were as these doctrines represented them to be, the ways of God\nwere horribly unjust. And as I could do no other than believe the\ndoctrines, my whole soul rose in rebellion against God. I supposed, as a\nmatter of course, that I should be sent to hell for my rebelliousness;\nstill I rebelled. It seemed a dreadful thing that God should hang one's\neternal destiny on things that were not in one's own power. I thought\nthat if people could not do all that God required of them, He ought to\nallow them to fall back into their original nothingness. My mind\nespecially revolted against the arrangement which God was said to have\nmade with Adam, and the terrible consequences entailed thereby on his\nposterity. To bring men into being, and force them to live on forever,\nand at the same time to hang their eternal destiny on another, or on\nsomething beyond their power, seemed dreadfully unjust. I felt that\nevery man ought to be allowed a fair trial for himself, and to stand or\nfall by his own doings. And nothing could make me feel that I was really\nanswerable for the sin of Adam, any more than that Adam was answerable\nfor my sins. And how God could impute one man's sin to another, was past\nall comprehension. And I felt, that if matters were managed as they were\nrepresented to be, the government of the universe was not right.\n\nBut supposing that God had a right to do as He pleased, and not knowing\nthat He was so good that it was impossible that He should ever please to\ndo wrong, I suffered in silence. But I often said to myself, 'God does\nnot deal fairly with mankind,' and my feelings towards Him were anything\nbut those of love and gratitude. So far was I from feeling any\nobligation to Him, that I looked on my existence as a tremendous curse,\nand I would gladly have consented to undergo any amount of torment, for\nany length of time short of eternity, for the privilege of being allowed\nto return to my original nothingness. The thought that even this was too\nmuch to be hoped for,--that it was fixed unchangeably that I must live\non forever, and that there was but one dark path, which I might never be\nable to find, by which I could escape the unbounded and unending\ntorments of hell, darkened all the days of my early youth, and made me\nexceedingly miserable. Some kind of blind unbelief, or a partial\nspiritual slumber at length came over me, and made it possible for me to\nlive. But even then my life was anything but a happy one.\n\nI cannot give the story of my life at length; but I afterwards got over\nthe difficulties of my early creed, or exchanged the blasphemous horrors\nof theology for the teachings of Christ, and became a cheerful, joyous\nChristian, and a happy and successful Christian minister.\n\nAs I have said in Chapter fourteenth, I regarded the Bible as the Word\nof God from my early childhood. I believed every word to be true, and\nevery command to be binding. My faith, at first, rested on the testimony\nof my parents and teachers, and of those among whom I lived. Every one I\nheard speak of the Book, spoke of it as divine, and the thought that it\nmight be otherwise did not, that I remember, ever enter my mind. This my\nhereditary faith in the Bible was strengthened by the instinctive\ntendencies of my mind to believe in God, and in all the great doctrines\nwhich the book inculcated.\n\nThe first attempt to _prove_ the divinity of the Bible, of which I have\nany recollection, was made by my mother, while I was yet a child. What\n_led_ her to make the attempt I do not remember. It might be some\nperplexing question that I had asked her; for I used to propose to her\npuzzling questions sometimes. Her argument was,--'Bad men _could_ not\nwrite such a book, and good men _would_ not. It must therefore, have\nbeen written by God.' Another argument that I remember to have heard in\nthose days was,--'No man would write the Bible who did not know it to be\ntrue; because it tells liars that their portion will be in the lake of\nfire and brimstone.' There was also an impression among such people as\nmy parents, that the Bible was so good a book, and that it wrought with\nsuch a blessed power upon their souls, that it was impossible it should\nbe written by any one but God. The last had probably the greatest effect\nupon their minds. Then they found in the Bible so many things in harmony\nwith their best affections, their moral instincts, and their religious\nfeelings, that they felt as if they had proof of its heavenly origin in\ntheir own souls. I came, at one period of my life, to look on these\narguments with contempt. And it is certain, that to give them much force\nwith men of logical habits, they would require qualification, and\nconsiderable illustration. But they are none of them so foolish as I\nonce supposed. As for the last two, they are, when presented in a proper\nway, unanswerable.\n\nThere was another argument that was sometimes used, namely,--that though\nthe different portions of the Bible were written by persons of widely\ndistant ages, of different occupations and ranks, and of very different\ndegrees of culture, they all aim at one end, all bear one way, and all\ntend to make men good and happy to the last degree. This is a great\nfact, and when properly considered, may well be accepted as a proof that\nthe Bible, as a whole, is from God.\n\nWhat effect these arguments had on my mind in my early days, I do not\nexactly remember, but the probability is, that they helped to strengthen\nmy instinctive and hereditary faith in the divine origin of the Bible.\n\nThis my instinctive and hereditary faith was a great and beneficent\npower, and would have proved an inestimable blessing, if it had been\npreserved unshaken through life. And I am sorry it was not. I have no\nsympathy with those who speak of doubt as a blessing, and who recommend\npeople to demolish their first belief, that they may raise a better\nstructure in its place. We do not destroy our first and lower life, to\nprepare the way for a higher spiritual life. Nor do we kill the body to\nsecure the development of the soul. Nor do we extinguish our natural\nhome affections, in order to kindle the fires of friendship, patriotism,\nand philanthropy. The higher life grows out of the lower. The lower\nnourishes and sustains the higher. At first we are little more than\nvegetables: then we become animals: then men; and last of all, sages,\nsaints, and angels. But the vegetable nature lives through all, and is\nthe basis and strength of the animal; and the animal nature lives, and\nis the basis and strength of the human; and the human lives, and is the\nbasis and strength of the spiritual and divine. And the higher forms of\nlife are all the more perfect, for the vigor and fulness of those by\nwhich they are preceded.\n\nAnd so with faith. Instinctive faith is the proper basis for the faith\nthat comes from testimony. And the faith which rests on testimony is the\nproper basis for that which comes from reason, investigation,\nexperience, and knowledge. And in no case ought the first to be\ndemolished to make way for the second, or the second discarded to make\nway for the third. To kill a tree in order to graft on it new scions,\nwould be madness; and to kill, or discard, or in any way to slight or\ninjure our first instinctive child-like faith, to graft on our souls a\nhigher one, would be equal madness.\n\nOur instincts are infallible. The faith to which they constrain us is\nalways substantially right and true, and no testimony, no reasonings, no\nphilosophy, ought to be allowed to set it aside. Testimony, and science,\nand experience, may be allowed to develop it, enlighten it, and modify\nit, but not to displace or destroy it. It is a divine inspiration, and\nis essential to the life and vigor of the soul, to the beauty and\nperfection of the character, and to the fulness and enjoyment of life.\nIf you lose it, you will have to find it again, or be wretched. If you\nkill it, you will have to bring it to life again, or perish. It is a\nnecessary support of all other faith, and a needful part of all\nreligion, of all virtue, and of all philosophy. Skeptics may call it\nprejudice; but it is a kind of prejudice which, as Burke very truly\nsays, is wiser than all our reasonings.\n\nI did not fall out with my instinctive belief, though I did not know its\nvalue; but I was so formed, that I longed for proofs or corroborating of\nits truth. I wanted to be able to do something more, when questioned by\ndoubters or unbelievers as to the grounds of my faith, than to say, 'I\n_feel_ that it is true;' or to refer to the testimony of my parents and\nteachers; and I did not rest till I could do so.\n\nI had a dear, good friend, Mr. Hill, a schoolmaster, a local preacher,\nand a scholar, who, believing that I had talents to fit me for a\ntravelling preacher, and desiring to prepare me for that high office,\nkindly undertook to aid me in my studies. After he had taught me\nsomething of English grammar, he began to teach me Latin. When he had\ngot me through the elementary books, and exercised me well in one of the\nRoman historians, he lent me a copy of Grotius, on the truth of the\nChristian religion, and recommended me to translate it into English, and\nthen to translate it back again into Latin. 'It contains the best\narguments,' said he, 'in favor of Christianity, and it is written in\npure and elegant Latin; and by the course I recommend, you will both\nimprove yourself greatly in Latin, and obtain a large amount of useful\nreligious knowledge.'\n\nI did as I was bid, and the result was truly delightful. I found in the\nbook proofs both of the existence of God, and of the truth of\nChristianity, which seemed to me most decisive. When I had got through\nthe book, I felt as if I could convince the whole infidel world. By\ntranslating the work first into English and then back into Latin, and\nrepeating my translations to my teacher without manuscript, I got the\nwhole book, with all its train of reasoning, so fixed in mind, that I\nwas able to produce the arguments whenever I found it necessary. I\ncould, in fact, repeat almost the whole work from beginning to end.\n\nI can hardly describe the pleasure I felt when I found that my faith had\na solid foundation to rest upon,--that after having believed\ninstinctively, and on the testimony of my parents and teachers, I could\nboth justify my faith to my own mind, and give sound reasons for it to\nany who might question me on the subject.\n\nI afterwards got Watson's Theological Institutes, which amplified some\nof the arguments of Grotius, and added fresh ones. Here too I found\nlarge quotations from Howe's LIVING TEMPLE, an argument for the\nexistence of God drawn from the wonderful structure of the human body,\nand considerable portions of Paley's work on NATURAL THEOLOGY.\nAbout the same time I read the Lectures of Doddridge, which gave me a\nmore comprehensive view than either Grotius or Watson, both of the\nevidences of the existence of God, and those of the truth of\nChristianity. I afterwards met with Dwight's Theology, in which I found\na number of things which interested me, though some of his reasonings\nseemed mere metaphysical fallacies.\n\nI next read Adam Clarke's Commentary, where I found, besides his\narguments for the existence of God, abundance of quotations from Paley,\nLardner, Michaelis, and others, on the credibility of the New Testament\nhistory, and the truth of Christianity. His _a priori_ argument for the\nexistence of God seemed only a play on words. His other arguments were\nmuch the same as Watson's.\n\nAbout this time I read Mosheim's History of the Church. This did me\nharm. It is a bad book. It is, in truth, no real history of the Church\nat all, but a miserable chronicle of the heresies, inconsistencies and\ncrimes of the worldly and priestly party in the Church, who perverted\nthe religion of Christ to worldly, selfish purposes. The whole tendency\nof the book is to put the sweet image of Christ and the glories of His\nreligion, out of sight, and to present to you in their place, a\ndistressing picture of human weakness and human wickedness. It is a\ngreat pity that this wretched pretence to a church history was not long\nago displaced by a work calculated to do some justice, and to render\nsome service, to the cause of Christ.\n\nI afterwards read works in favor of Christianity and against infidelity,\nby Robert Hall, Olinthus Gregory, Dr. Chalmers, Le Clerc, Hartwell\nHorne, S. Thompson, Bishop Watson, Bishop Pearson, Bishop Porteus. I\nalso read Leland's View of Deistical Writers, Leslie's Short and Easy\nMethod with Deists, Faber's Difficulties of Infidelity, Fuller's Gospel\nits Own Witness, Butler's Analogy, Baxter's Unreasonableness of\nInfidelity, and his Evidences of Christianity, Simpson's Plea for\nReligion and the Sacred Writings, Ryan on the Beneficial Effects of\nChristianity, Cave on the Early Christians, the Debate between R. Owen\nand A. Campbell, Scotch Lectures, G. Campbell on Miracles, Ray's Wisdom\nof God in Creation, Constable's History of Converts from Infidelity,\nNewton on the Prophecies, Locke on the Reasonableness of Christianity,\nNelson on the Cause and Cure of Infidelity, Priestley's Institutes of\nNatural and Revealed Religion, Jews' Letters to Voltaire, and works by\nBeattie, Soame Jenyns, West, Lyttleton, Ogilvie, Addison, Gilbert\nWakefield and others. I also read sermons on different branches of the\nevidences, by Tillotson, Barrow, and others. One of the last and one of\nthe best works I read on the Evidences of Christianity, were some\nsermons by Dr. Channing. These sermons presented the historical argument\nin a simpler and more impressive form than any work I had ever read.\n\nThis reading of works on the evidences did not prove an unmixed\nblessing. I am not certain that it did not prove a serious injury.\n\n1. In the first place, the works I read weakened, in time, and then\ndestroyed, my instinctive and hereditary faith, and gave me nothing so\nsatisfactory in its place. They filled my mind with thoughts of things\noutside me, and even outside Christianity itself, which did not take a\nfirm and lasting hold of my affections. They seemed to take me from\nsolid ground and living realities, into regions of cold, thin air, and\nbewildering mists and clouds.\n\n2. In the second place, the writers disagreed among themselves. They\ndiffered as to the value of different kinds of evidence. Some were all\nfor external evidences, and some were all for internal evidences. Some\nsaid there was no such thing as internal evidence. 'The very idea of\nsuch a thing,' said they, 'supposes that man is able to judge what\ndoctrines are true, or rational, or worthy of God; and what precepts,\nlaws, institutions, and examples are right and good; and man has no such\npower. Reason has no right to judge revelation. All that reason has a\nright to do is to judge as to the matter of fact whether the Bible and\nChristianity be really a revelation from God or not, and, if it be, what\nis its purport. As to the reasonableness of the doctrines, and the\ngoodness of the precepts, reason has no right or power to judge at all.'\n\nOthers contended that miracles could never prove the truth or divinity\nof any system of doctrines or morals that did not commend itself to the\njudgments and consciences of enlightened, candid, and virtuous men.\nThese two parties, between them, condemned both kinds of evidence.\n\n3. Then thirdly; some used unsound arguments. They used arguments\nfounded on mistakes with regard to matters of fact. Grotius, for\ninstance, based two of his arguments for the existence of God on\nmisconceptions of this kind. 'That there is a God,' said Grotius, 'is\nevident from the fact, that water, which naturally runs downward to the\nlevel of the sea, is made to run upwards through subterranean channels,\nfrom the sea to the tops of the mountains, and thus supply springs and\nstreams to water the earth, and supply the wants of its inhabitants.'\nBut the waters are _not_ forced upwards from the sea to the mountains in\nthis way: they are carried to the hills in the form of vapors.\n\nTrue, the evidence for the existence of God supplied by the conversion\nof water into vapor, and by the many beneficent ends answered thereby,\nis as real and as convincing a proof of God's existence as any evidence\nthat could have been furnished by such an arrangement as that imagined\nby Grotius. But I did not see this at the time; hence the discovery that\nthe argument of Grotius was unsound, had an unfavorable effect on my\nmind.\n\n'Again,' says Grotius, 'it is plain that the world must have had a\nbeginning, from the existence of mountains. For if the earth had existed\nfrom eternity, the mountains, which the rains and floods are always\nreducing, washing down particles into the valleys and plains, would long\nago have disappeared, and every part of the earth would long before this\nhave been quite level.' Here was another error. Grotius was not aware,\nit would seem, that there are forces continually at work in the interior\nof the earth making _new_ mountains,--that some portions of the earth\nare continually rising, and others gradually subsiding.\n\n4. Several of the arguments which I met with in Doddridge's great work I\nfound to be unsound. And there were others which, if I did not discover\nto be fallacious, I felt to be unsatisfactory. They were, in truth, as I\nafterwards found, mere metaphysical puzzles.\n\n5. Among the most honest and earnest works on the evidences that came in\nmy way, were those of Richard Baxter. But many of his arguments were\nunsatisfactory. Among other things of doubtful value, he gave a number\nof ghost stories, and accounts of witches and their doings, and of\npersons possessed by evil spirits, and even of men and women who had\nsold themselves to the devil, and who had been seized and carried away\nby him bodily, in the presence of their neighbors and friends. Then\nsome of his arguments took for granted points of importance which I was\nparticularly anxious to have proved. Much of his reasoning seemed\nconclusive enough, but when sound and unsound arguments are so blended\nin the same book, the unsound ones seem to lessen the credit and the\nforce of the sound ones.\n\nOn the subject of the evidences, Baxter, like Grotius, was behind the\ntimes. His works might be satisfactory enough to people of his own day,\nbut they were not adapted to the minds of people of the present day.\n\n6. The works of Paley and Butler gave me the greatest satisfaction.\nPaley, both in his Natural Theology and in his evidences of\nChristianity, seemed to be almost all that I could desire, and I rested\nin him for a length of time with great satisfaction. But I read him only\nonce, and I ought, for a time at least, to have made him my daily study,\nand imprinted his work on my mind, as I did the work of Grotius.\n\n7. Many writers on the Bible attempted to settle points which could not\nbe settled. They tried to make out the authors of all the books in the\nBible, and this was found impossible. Different writers ascribed books\nto different authors. The Book of Job was ascribed by one writer to Job\nhimself, by another to Moses, and by a third to Elihu. The Book of\nEcclesiastes was ascribed by some to Solomon, by others to a writer of a\nlater age. Writers differed with regard to the authorship of many of the\nPsalms and many of the Proverbs. They differed with regard to the author\nof the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the Book of Revelation, and even with\nregard to some of the Gospels. They multiplied controversies instead of\nending them, and in some cases made matters seem doubtful that were not\nso.\n\n8. The writers on evidences often attempted to prove points which were\nnot true, and which, if they had been true, would have been no credit to\nthe Bible or Christianity. Some of them spent more time in laboring to\nprove that Christianity taught doctrines which it did not teach, than in\nproving that the doctrines which it did teach were 'worthy of all\nacceptation.' Some left the impression that Christianity was a mass of\nvain, improbable, and incomprehensible doctrines, calculated neither to\nsatisfy man's intellect nor his conscience, neither to renovate his\nheart, nor improve his life, nor increase his happiness. Such writers\nserved the cause of infidelity rather than the cause of Christ.\n\n9. Some, like Hartwell Horne, gave so many rules for interpreting the\nBible, and required such a multitude of rare qualifications to fit a man\nfor being a Bible student, that they left the impression on one's mind\nthat the Book must be utterly unintelligible to people at large. And\nthey directed the attention of their readers so much to matters of\nlittle or no moment, that they lost sight of the matters which the Bible\nwas specially intended to teach and impress on men's minds and hearts.\n\n10. Many dwelt so much on things doubtful, that they left the impression\non the minds of their readers, that there was little or nothing but what\n_was_ doubtful. They busied themselves so much in answering objections,\nthat they left the impression that there was little or nothing but what\nwas open to objections. They had so little to say about what was true,\nand good, and glorious beyond all question, that they left people in\ndoubt whether there was any thing past question or controversy in\nChristianity or not.\n\n11. And many treated the subject so coolly or carelessly, that they\nabated rather than increased the interest of their readers in religious\nmatters.\n\n12. And the great mass of writers followed one another so\nservilely,--they wrote so much by rote, and so little from experience or\nreal knowledge, that all seemed cold and formal, uninteresting and\nunprofitable. It was a rare thing to come across a writer that touched\nthe heart, or even satisfied the judgment.\n\n13. And they often labored hard and long to prove points of little or no\nimportance, while points of greatest moment were left untouched, or\nhandled so unskillfully as to do harm rather than good.\n\n14. And almost all had unauthorized and unscriptural theories of\nScripture inspiration, which it was impossible for them to prove, and\nwhich they so manifestly failed to prove, that a critical reader could\nnot but see their failure. They tried to justify expressions and actions\nwhich could not be justified, and to reconcile differences which did\nnot admit of reconciliation.\n\n15. Even the historical arguments of Paley and Grotius consisted of so\nmany particulars, and carried one so far back into regions with which\none was so imperfectly acquainted, and into states of society which it\nwas so difficult for one to realize, that it was impossible they should\nhave much power over the heart; and the little they had was soon lost,\nwhen their books were laid aside. Even when we remembered the facts, and\ncould run them over in our minds, we could not feel the force of the\nargument based on them, or use it so as to make it felt by others.\n\nThe historical argument drawn from miracles never exerted much\nsatisfying power on my mind for any length of time. I could remember\nthat it _had_ satisfied me once, but that was not to feel its satisfying\npower then. And you could not go back to your books continually, and\npore over the arguments forever. So that long before I became a doubter,\nI felt that the historical argument could never be useful to people\ngenerally, either in producing faith where it was not, or in\nperpetuating it where it was. I was sure that if mankind at large were\nto be brought to receive and cherish Christianity, it must be by proofs\nof a simpler and more popular kind, which people could feel, and carry\nalong with them in their hearts as well as in their heads. And now I see\nmost clearly that I was right. Miracles had a use, and I may show what\nit was by and by; but it was not the use to which they have been so\noften and so vainly applied.\n\n16. The writers on prophecy were as unsatisfactory as those on miracles.\nThey often handled the prophecies unfairly if not deceitfully. They\ntreated as absolute prophecies, prophecies which were expressly\nconditional. And they lost sight of the fact, so plainly stated in\nJeremiah xviii, that all prophetic promises and threatenings are\nconditional. Then they took one bit of a prophecy and left another: kept\nout of sight predictions which had not been fulfilled, and dwelt\nexclusively on phrases which had been fulfilled.\n\nThey dealt deceitfully with history as well as prophecy. They made or\nmodified facts. They gave fanciful interpretations to prophecies. And\nthey tried to make prophecy prove what it could not prove, however\nunquestionable and miraculous the fulfilment might be. The manner in\nwhich Nelson and Keith dealt with prophecy was often childish, and even\ndishonest. A careful examination of their works left a most painful\nimpression on my mind.\n\nWhat Albert Barnes says about much of the reasoning of preachers and\ndivines is applicable to this class of writers more than to some others.\n'A great part of the reasoning founded upon prophecies is unsound. Much\nof the reasoning employed by the early Christian Fathers, by the\nSchoolmen, and by the Reformers had no intrinsic force: it was based on\nignorance and error. Yet theologians are prone to cling to it. They\nforget the age in which they live. They linger, they live, among the\nshades of the past. Their thoughts, their dialect, their way of\nreasoning are all of other days.\n\n'The quality of another kind of reasoning common among divines is, that\nit is not understood by the mass of men, and that it does not seem to be\nunderstood by those who use it.'\n\n17. In the following paragraph he speaks important words about theology\nas well as about theological reasoning.\n\n'There is much theology,' says he, 'that a good man cannot preach. It\nwould shock his own feelings; it would contradict his prayers; it would\nbe fatal to all his efforts to do good; it would drive off the sinner to\na hopeless distance, though he had begun to return to God; it would be\nat war with the elementary convictions which men have of what must be\ntrue. Among the doctrines of this theology are those,--that Christ died\nfor the salvation of only a part of mankind,--that we are to blame for\nAdam's sin,--condemned for an act done ages before we were born.\n\n'The theology that should be preached to make the pulpit what it should\nbe, should be based on obvious and honest principles of Scripture\ninterpretation. The preacher is the interpreter of a book, and he should\nbe the voice, the organ, of its true and natural meaning. Nothing should\nbe misquoted; nothing should be perverted or misapplied. His\ninterpretation should be seen and felt to be in harmony with the scope,\nthe drift, the spirit, the aim of the Bible. The success of preaching\nhas been greatly hindered by false principles of Biblical\ninterpretation. In interpreting other books men have gone on rational\nprinciples; but in interpreting the Bible they have gone on principles\nquite irrational. They have sought for double senses, and mystical\nmeanings, and used texts as proofs of doctrines, that had no reference\nto the doctrines whatever. Metaphors and symbols have had all possible\nmeanings forced on them. Infidels and men of the world are approached\nwith arguments that are little less than insults to their\nunderstandings. They are disgusted, instead of being convinced. They are\nled to look on the Bible with disdain. They are willing to remain\ninfidels, rather than become idiots. One is pained and sickened that\nsuch a multitude of impertinent and inapplicable texts should be brought\nas proofs of Christian doctrine;--texts applicable to anything else\nrather than the points under consideration. Even Dr. Edwards misuses\ntexts of Scripture thus. The Bible is to be interpreted as other books\nare. Men are not to hide themselves in the mist of a hidden meaning, and\nshock the common sense of the world. Preachers should go on the\nsupposition, that in every congregation there are shrewd and sagacious\nmen, who can appreciate a good argument, and see the weakness of a bad\none; men who can appreciate a good sermon, if there be a good sermon to\nbe appreciated. For such, he may be assured, is the fact.'\n\nAll these unwise things had a tendency to shake my faith in writers on\nthe evidences, to lessen my interest in the subject, to abate my\nconfidence in the knowledge and integrity of the authors, and to\ndiminish my faith in the supernatural origin of the Bible and\nChristianity.\n\n18. The evidences that had most weight with me were the internal\nevidences. But these were often handled in an unsatisfactory way. The\ngreater part of Soame Jenyns' little work was good, as far as it went;\nbut it went only a very short way. It took a step or two, in the most\ndifficult, doubtful, and uninviting part of the road, but it left the\nvast paradise of internal evidences unexplored, and even unapproached.\nHis work was rather an apology for Christianity, proving that it was not\nopen to censure, than a demonstration of its incalculable worth and\npower.\n\nI did not myself see clearly at the time, that the adaptation of\nChristianity to man's wants, to man's nature, and its tendency to\npromote man's temporal as well as his spiritual welfare, was really a\nproof of its divine origin. I saw that it was a valid answer to the\ninfidel objection that it was useless or mischievous; but not that it\nwas a decisive proof of its divinity. Hence though I employed it as a\nrefutation of infidel charges against Christianity, I never pressed it\nfurther.\n\nAnd though I got at length much larger views of the excellency of\nChristianity than those presented by Soame Jenyns, I saw not half, I saw\nnot a tenth of its worth and glory. I saw not a tenth even of what I see\nnow. I now see there are no limits to the excellency of Christianity, or\nto the power of the argument supplied by its glorious character, in\nproof of its divinity.\n\nAnd the worth and excellency of Christianity you can carry continually\nin your mind. They present themselves whenever you open the Gospels, or\nlook at Jesus. They move you whenever you think of the happy effect\nChristianity has had on your own hearts and lives. They come to your\nminds whenever you look on the prevailing vices and miseries of society,\nwhich result from a want of Christianity. They touch your heart, as well\nas convince your judgment. But I neither saw them in their true light\nnor in their full extent before I fell into doubt; so that they were\nunable to make up for the deficiency in the external evidences, and to\ncheck my growing tendency to unbelief.\n\n19. There were other influences that helped me down to unbelief.\nNegative criticism, pulling things to pieces with a view to find faults,\nto which our modern philosophers give the fine name of _Analysis_, tends\nto cause doubt about every thing. It eats out of one the very soul of\ntruth, of love, and of faith. It tends naturally to kill all our good\ninstincts and natural affections, and to render not only religion, but\nphilosophy, virtue and happiness impossible. The Cartesian system of\nreasoning, which begins by calling in question every thing, and which\nrefuses to believe anything without formal proof, is essentially\nvicious. The man who adopts it and carries it out thoroughly, must\nnecessarily become an infidel, not only in religion, but in morals and\nphilosophy. And he must become intolerably miserable, and destroy\nhimself, unless, like John S. Mill, he can find out some method of\ndeceiving himself.\n\nAnd this is the system of reasoning now in vogue. This vicious system I\nadopted, and it hastened my fall into unbelief as a matter of course.\nNot one of all the most important things on earth admits of proof in\nthis formal way. You cannot prove your own existence in this way. You\ncannot prove the existence of the universe. You cannot prove the\nexistence of God. You cannot prove that there are such things as vice\nand virtue, good and evil. You cannot prove that men ought to marry,\nrear families, form governments, live in society, tell the truth, be\nhonest, restrain their appetites and passions, or abstain from treachery\nand murder. All reasonings in favor of religion, virtue, society,\nphilosophy, must rest on assumptions,--must take a number of things for\ngranted,--must take for granted the truth and goodness of those\ninstincts, sentiments, and natural affections which constrain us to be\nreligious, social, and moral, independent of argument. All reasoning, to\nbe of any use, must begin, not with doubt, but belief. The reasoning\nthat begins with doubting every thing, and accepting nothing till it is\nproved by formal argument, will end in doubt of every thing that ought\nto be believed. It will end, not only in Atheism, but in boundless\nimmorality, and in utter wretchedness and ruin. The man who would not be\nundone by his logic, must pity Descartes instead of admiring him, and\ninstead of following him go just the contrary way. Descartes made a fool\nof himself, or his method of reasoning made a fool of him, the very\nfirst time he used it. His very first argument was a fallacy and a\nfolly. He pretended, first, to doubt, and then to prove, his own\nexistence. His argument was, 'I think; therefore I _exist_:' as if he\ncould be more sure that he _thought_, than he was that he existed. He\ntook his existence for granted when he said 'I think.'\n\n20. Other things helped on the horrible change that was taking place in\nmy soul. I got a taste for reading a different kind of works from those\nwhich I had been accustomed to read. I turned away from works on\nreligion and duty, and began to read the works of the critical,\ndestructive party. I turned away even from the best practical writers of\nthe orthodox school, such as Baxter, Tillotson and Barrow, and read\nTheodore Parker, Martineau, W. F. Newman, W. J. Fox, and Froude. I also\nread Carlyle, Emerson, and W. Mackay, the metaphysical bore, and C.\nMackay, the charming, fascinating, but not Christian poet. Theodore\nParker became my favorite among the prose writers. His beautiful style\nand practical lessons had already reconciled me to his harsh expressions\nabout the Bible, and to his contemptuous treatment of miracles; and now\nI had degenerated so far that I liked him for those very faults.\n\nI read the writings of the American Abolitionists, all of which tended\nto draw me from the Church and the Bible, and to bring me more fully\nunder skeptical influences. I began to look more freely and frequently\ninto works of science, and most of those waged covert war with\nsupernaturalism, and sought to bring down the Bible and Christianity to\nthe level of ordinary human thought. All ideas of authority in books and\nreligious systems, in ecclesiastical and social institutions, gradually\nfaded away. All ideas of superhuman authority, or divine obligation, in\nmarriage, in home, and in family life vanished. All things lost their\nsacredness, and came down to the vulgar level of mere human opinion, or\nof personal interest, convenience, or pleasure.\n\n21. There was a change in my companions. Those who had high and holy\nthoughts of all things, and whose meat and drink it was to do good,\nwithdrew from me; and men and women came around me who cared only for\nearth and self; whose talk was of gain, and fashion, and\nself-indulgence; and whose desire it was to silence conscience, and to\nstifle thoughts of duty.\n\n22. I ceased to pray. I had already given up family prayer. I now gave\nup private prayer. I gave up prayer altogether. I had impulses to\nprayer, but I resisted them. Prayer was irrational, according to the new\nphilosophy, and must be discarded.\n\n23. And praise and thanksgiving went next. What reason could there be\nfor telling an all-wise God what you thought of Him, or how you felt\ntowards Him? And besides, it now began to appear that God had not been\nso very bountiful as to deserve either high commendation, or\nenthusiastic thanksgiving.\n\n24. I had fresh work. Politics first got into partnership with my\nreligion, and then turned religion out of the concern. And politics,\nsevered from religion, soon become selfish, and even devilish. So long\nas Christian philanthropy occupied my thoughts and feelings, it helped\nreligiousness; but when it gave way to polities, my religiousness\ndeclined, languished, and died.\n\n25. I began to indulge in amusements. Chess, drafts, cards, concerts,\ntheatres, and feasting asked for a portion of my time and money, and I\ngave it to them. I began to think of pleasure more than of usefulness;\nto live for myself rather than for others; and the higher virtues and\nreligion went down together.\n\n26. My position improved. I passed from poverty to comparative wealth.\nThis helped my degeneracy. I had more abundant means of self-indulgence,\nand I began, though slowly, timidly, and with misgivings, and\nself-reproaches, and occasional fits of remorse, to use them for\nselfish, worldly purposes. God had given me more, so I gave Him less.\nJeshurun waxed fat and kicked. Jesus knew what He was saying when He\nwarned people against the danger, the deceitfulness, of riches.\n\n27. I was often uneasy during the decline of religion in my soul, but\nphilosophy had its anodynes, its soothing syrups, its dreamy, delusive,\nspiritual drugs. It could flatter, it could cheat, in the most approved\nfashion. It could bewitch, intoxicate, and take captive the whole\nsoul,--judgment, conscience, fancy, everything.\n\nSatan can put on the appearance of an 'angel of light.' He can talk\nreligion. He can talk philanthropy. He can preach the most beautiful\ndoctrines. He can use the most charming words. At the very moment that\nhe is destroying religion and virtue, he can speak of them in the\nhighest terms, and even sing of them in the sweetest strains. He can\ntalk of liberty in the most swelling, high-sounding, and fascinating\nstyle, while all the time he is making men the most degraded and\nmiserable slaves. He can lead people, singing and dancing, laughing and\nshouting, through a philosopher's paradise, to a purgatory of guilt and\nhorror. And all the time he will preach to them the finest doctrines;\nthe most exalted sentiments. 'Religion!--everything is religion, that\nis in accordance with the laws of our own nature, that is suitable to\nour position and relations, that helps our brothers or our families. And\nall truth is religious truth. All science is divine revelation. All laws\nare God's laws, except the arbitrary laws of men. All work is divine\nwork, if it be according to nature. All useful work is religion.\nFarming, trade, government, are all religion. So are waking and\nsleeping. They are all divine ordinances; they are all divine service.\nAll good work is worship. Singing foolish hymns, reading foolish\nlessons, preaching foolish sermons, offering foolish prayers, in\nunhealthy churches, half stifled with foul air, are not religion.\nReligion is the free and natural utterance of great, true thoughts, of\ngood and generous feelings, of nature's own rich sentiments and\ninspirations. The flowery fields, the shadowy woods, the lofty mountains\nare nobler places of worship than the dark and damp cathedral; and the\nfresh air of heaven is a diviner inspiration than carbonic acid gas. And\nthe sun is a diviner light than waxen tapers, explosive lamps, or\noxygen-consuming gas. And the gorgeous sun-tinted clouds are grander and\nmore beautiful than painted windows! God's temple is all space; His\naltar; earth, air, skies! His ministers are sun, moon, stars; birds,\nbeasts, and flowers. Nature is God's revelation; the true Bible; written\nin an universal language; speaking to all eyes; needing no translation;\nin danger of no interpolation, alteration, or mutilation. Man is the\ntrue Shekinah,--the veritable image, the real glory, the true revelation\nand manifestation of God. Man is the saviour of man: the teacher, the\nguide, the comforter of man. Every one, male or female, is a servant, a\nminister of God. All are priests. All are kings. The truth makes us\nfree: free from all authorities, but the authority of God,--God in the\nsoul. Christ is our brother, not our master. He is a helper, not a\nruler. And all are helpers of each other. All are saviours. All are\nChrists. Inspiration is not a matter of time, or place, or person. It is\neternal and universal. It is in all, and it endures forever. Every good\nbook is a Bible. Every good hymn or song is a holy psalm. Purity of body\nis holiness, as well as purity of mind. Every day is a sabbath, a holy\nday. Every place is holy ground. The Church of God is the human race.\nAll are God's disciples, under training by nature's operations, and by\nthe events of daily life. The earth is God's great school-house; mankind\nare one great school; God is our chief Master; the universe is our\nlesson book, and all we are ushers and under teachers. All things are\nour helpers, not masters;--our servants, not lords. They are made for\nus, not we for them; and must be used so as to make them answer their\nends. The Sabbath was made for man; not man for the Sabbath. Bibles are\nfor men, not men for Bibles. Governments, churches, authorities, laws,\ninstitutions, customs, events, suns, moons, stars, systems, atoms,\nelements, all are made for man, and to man's interest and pleasure they\nmust be subordinated. All must be changed to meet man's changing wants.\nNothing is entitled to be permanent, but that which answers beneficently\nto something permanent in man. Man is lord of the universe. Man is lord\nof himself. Man is his own rightful governor. Man is his own law. His\nnature is his law. Each individual man is his own law. Individualities\nare divine, and must be respected; respected by laws and governments.\nLaw must yield to individuality; not individuality to law. Individuality\nis sacred. The individuality of the individual is his life, and must be\nfostered. It is a new manifestation of God. As to means of grace,--all\nexpressions and interchanges of kind feeling are means of grace. Shaking\nhands is a means of grace. Free, friendly talk, a concert or a song, a\nsocial ride, a family feast, a social gathering, a pleasant chat, a game\nat whist, all are means of grace. All are holy to holy souls. All are\npure to pure minds. Eating, drinking, sleeping are all divine\nordinances. Religion, in its higher and more enlightened form, raises\nour views of all things; makes all things beautiful; all things\nglorious. It does not bring down the high and holy; but lifts up all\nthings to a divine level. It desecrates no temple; but consecrates the\nuniverse. It breaks no Sabbath; but makes every day a Sabbath, and all\ntime one lengthened holy day. It degrades no priest; but makes all men\npriests. It does not bring down the high, but raises the low. It denies\nnot heaven; but brings down heaven to earth. Everywhere is heaven.\nGod's kingdom is an universal kingdom. His presence, His throne, His\nglory, are everywhere, and heaven is all around us and within us. The\nuniverse is heaven.' Thus spake the devil.\n\nAnd now came in his progressive poets to give those broad, those high,\nthose rational, those philosophical principles, this theology and\nreligion of advanced humanity, this Church and worship of the future,\nthe fascination of their ecstatic genius, and all the charms of numbers,\nrhyme, and melody. 'My religion is love,' sings one, 'the richest and\nfairest.' 'Abou Ben Adhem,' sings another. 'He loves not God; but loves\nGod's creature man. Give him a place,--the highest place,--in heaven.'\nAnother sings, 'The poor man's Sunday walk.' The advanced religionist,\naddressing his wife, exclaims,\n\n     The morning of our rest has come,\n       The sun is shining clear;\n     I see it on the steeple-top:\n       Put on your shawl, my dear,\n     And let us leave the smoky town,\n       The dense and stagnant lane,\n     And take our children by the hand\n       To see the fields again.\n     I've pined for air the livelong week;\n       For the smell of new-mown hay;\n     For a pleasant, quiet, country walk,\n       On a sunny Sabbath day.\n\n     Our parish church is cold and damp;\n       I need the air and sun;\n     We'll sit together on the grass,\n       And see the children run.\n     We'll watch them gather butter-cups,\n       Or cowslips in the dell,\n     Or listen to the cheerful sounds\n       Of the far-off village bell;\n     And thank our God with grateful hearts,\n       Though in the fields we pray;\n     And bless the healthful breeze of heaven,\n       On a sunny Sabbath day.\n\n     I'm weary of the stifling room,\n       Where all the week we're pent;\n     Of the alley fill'd with wretched life,\n       And odors pestilent:\n     And long once more to see the fields,\n       And the grazing sheep and beeves;\n     To hear the lark amid the clouds,\n       And the wind among the leaves;\n     And all the sounds that glad the air\n       On green hills far away:--\n     The sounds that breathe of Peace and Love,\n       On a sunny Sabbath day.\n\n     For somehow, though they call it wrong,\n       In church I cannot kneel\n     With half the natural thankfulness\n       And piety I feel\n     When out, on such a day as this,\n       I lie upon the sod,\n     And think that every leaf and flower\n       Is grateful to its God;\n     That I, who feel the blessing more,\n       Should thank Him more than they,\n     That I can elevate my soul\n       On a sunny Sabbath day.\n\n     Put on your shawl, and let us go;\n       For one day let us think\n     Of something else than daily care,\n       Or toil, and meat, and drink:\n     For one day let our children sport\n       And feel their limbs their own:\n     For one day let us quite forget\n       The grief that we have known:--\n     Let us forget that we are poor;\n       And, basking in the ray,\n     Thank God that we can still enjoy\n       A sunny Sabbath day.\n\nWhat can be more natural,--what more plausible,--what more\nrational,--what more pious? Yet it means forgetfulness of God,\nforgetfulness of Christ, forgetfulness of duty, forgetfulness of\nimmortality. It means self, and sin, and ruin. And so it is with a\nmultitude of other sweet poems. One of the sweetest singers that ever\nreceived a poetic soul from God, ignores Christ and Christianity. His\nworks are full of truth, but it is truth turned into a lie, and made to\ndo the work of sin and death. It is Satan clad as an angel of light.\n\nEvery day a Sabbath, means no day a Sabbath. All places holy, means no\nplace holy. All things worship, means nothing worship. All honest labor\nreligious, means no labor religious. Freedom means license, contempt for\nvirtue, enslavement to vice. Progress means falling back. Elevation\nmeans degradation. Liberality means leniency to error and evil, and\nseverity towards truth and goodness. In short, darkness means light, and\nlight means darkness; good means evil, and evil good; bitter means\nsweet, and sweet bitter. Reform means revolution, and renovation means\ndegradation, and all these charming things mean wretchedness and ruin.\n\nWe must not be understood as condemning all the sentiments uttered by\nthe great deceiver. Many of them are true and good. They are Christian.\nSatan is too wise to preach unmitigated falsehood. He understands too\nwell the art of using truth so as to serve the ends of falsehood. It is\nenough for him if he can sever men's souls from Christ, and truth from\ndivine authority, and religion from Christianity, the Church, and the\nBible. Allow him to do this, and he will discourse and sing to you a\nworld of sweet words and lofty sentiments. Truth is the ladder by which\nmen climb to God, and goodness, and heaven. But Satan has found out that\nthere is a way _down_ the ladder as well as _up_, and that to praise the\nladder to the descending crowd is the surest way to draw them ever\nfurther downward, till they lose themselves amid the blinding smoke of\nthe abyss beneath. We love, we cherish every sweet word of truth, but we\nvalue nothing apart from God, and Christ, and Religion.\n\n28. It is a bad thing when people are taught things in their youth that\nare not true. They are sure, when they become students, if they are\nhonest and able, to find out the errors, and to lay them aside. And the\nmere habit of detecting and laying aside errors, has a tendency to make\nmen skeptical. Now I had been taught a multitude of things in my youth\nthat were not true, both with regard to the doctrines and the evidences\nof Christianity. These things I detected and set aside in riper years.\nAnd I had so many things to set aside, that I came to look with\nsuspicion on almost all my creed. The skeptical tendency got too strong\nfor my habit of belief. I suspected where there was no good ground for\nsuspicion. I rejected truth as well as error. I held in doubt doctrines\nthat I ought to have cherished as my life. Change became too easy;\njudgment too hasty; and error and unbelief were naturally the result.\n\nIt is especially a bad thing when an earnest young student sees signs of\ncarelessness in religious writers; a readiness to repeat what has been\nsaid before; to support what is popular, without endeavoring to\nascertain whether it be true or not. It is still worse when a student\ndiscovers in religious writers signs of dishonesty and fraud. I\ndiscovered both. I saw cases in which false doctrines were passed on\nfrom generation to generation, and from writer to writer, without the\nleast attempt to ascertain their true character. I saw other cases in\nwhich dishonesty was manifest, in which fraud was used, in support of\ndoctrines. Old creeds were allowed to remain unaltered, long after\nportions of them had been found to be unscriptural; and error was\nsubscribed as a matter of course. The result was, a distrust of\neverything held by such parties, unless it was supported by the plainest\nand most decisive proofs.\n\n29. I was now in a state of mind to go down quietly and almost\nunconsciously into utter unbelief. And I _went_ down. I did not _reject_\nthe doctrine of the divine origin of the Bible and Christianity, but\ngradually _lost_ it. My faith died a natural death. I was in the world,\nand became a worldly man. I mixed with unbelievers, and gradually came\ndown to their level. I had supposed that a man could be as religious\noutside the Church as inside; but I found it otherwise. It was a sad, an\nawful change I underwent; but I not only did not see it, at the time, in\nits true light, but was actually unconscious for a long time that it was\ntaking place.\n\nIn November 1852, I attended a Bible convention at Salem, Columbiana\nCounty, Ohio. It lasted three days. I spoke repeatedly, and at\nconsiderable length, at its meetings. My remarks wore directed chiefly,\nnot against the Bible, but against what I regarded as unauthorized\ntheories of Scripture inspiration. I contended that those theories were\ninjurious to the interests of virtue and humanity.\n\nI also spoke about the darkness in which the human authorship of\nportions of the Bible was wrapt. My remarks were a mixture of truth and\nerror, but in their general tenor they were unjust, and could hardly\nfail to be injurious.\n\nHenry C. Wright spoke at this convention, contending that man had an\ninfallible rule of life engraven on his own nature, independent of\ninstruction from without. He was often severe and extravagant in his\nremarks. He was fierce, and said things which he could not make good.\n\nThe Rev. Jonas Harzell and others spoke in defence of the Bible.\n\nOn the last evening the hall in which the convention was held was\ndensely crowded, and the audience was greatly excited. A Mr. Ambler\nspoke at great length, and seemed desirous to excite the people to\nviolence against the assailants of the Bible. When he closed, a large\nportion of the audience seemed bent on mischief. I rose to reply to Mr.\nAmbler, and soon got the attention of the audience. Their rage quickly\nsubsided, and at the close of my address, the people separated in peace.\n\nIn June 1853, I attended another Bible convention at Hartford,\nConnecticut. I was appointed President. A. J. Davis, the celebrated\nspiritualist, gave the first address. It was on the propriety of free\ndiscussion on religious subjects. Henry C. Wright spoke next, making\nstrong remarks on portions of the Old Testament. I followed, going over\nmuch the same ground as at Salem, but speaking with more severity of\nfeeling. My heart was getting harder.\n\nThe Rev. George Storrs replied. He set himself especially to answer H.\nC. Wright, and he spoke with much effect.\n\nIn the afternoon of the second day, W. L. Garrison proposed six\nresolutions, bearing partly on the Bible, and partly on the church and\nclergy. They were very strong. There was a considerable amount of truth\nin them, but their spirit and tendency were bad. Parker Pillsbury\nfollowed with a speech, in which he praised natural religion, but\ncondemned the religion of the church.\n\nIn the evening Mr. Garrison spoke. He spoke with much power. He dwelt\nchiefly on what was called the doctrine of _plenary inspiration_. His\nstrength was in the extreme views of the orthodox theologians, and in\nthe inconsistencies of the church and the clergy.\n\nMr. Garrison made a second speech on the fourth evening, still dwelling\non the theory of _plenary inspiration_. Before he got through his speech\nthe meeting was disturbed by a number of theological students, from a\ncollege in the city. They threatened mischief. One displayed a dagger.\nConfusion followed. Some of the speakers fled, and others were alarmed.\nI kept my place, but soon found I had the platform to myself. I expected\nmore courage from my skeptical friends. But they understood Judge Lynch\nbetter than I did, and their discretion, under the circumstances, might\nbe the better part of valor. My rashness, however, ended in no mishap.\nAnd the only bad effect which the violence of our opponents had on me\nwas, to increase my hatred, perhaps, of the church and its theology. It\nis not wise in professing Christians to resort to carnal weapons in\ndefence of their views.\n\nIn December 1853, I gave a course of lectures in Philadelphia. I was\nbrought to the city by the Sunday Institute. The object of the lectures\nwas to show, that the Bible was of human origin, that its teachings were\nnot of divine authority, and that the doctrine of its absolute\nperfection was injurious in its tendency. The room in which I lectured\nwas crowded, and the audience was much excited. I stated, in opening,\nthat I had nothing to say against anything that was true and good in the\nBible,--that virtue was essential to man's happiness, and that I had no\nsympathy with those who rejected the Bible because it rebuked their\nvices. I was sincere in these remarks; but my older infidel friends, I\nfound, regarded them as intended to deceive the unwary. Many of them\nwere grossly immoral, and hated the Bible for its hostility to their\nevil ways.\n\nAfter each lecture discussion followed. But the ability of my opponents\nwas not equal to their zeal. They were often ignorant of both sides of\nthe question, and injured the cause they sought to aid.\n\nThese lectures led to a public discussion between me and Dr. McCalla, a\nPresbyterian clergyman. It was to continue five nights, but ended on the\nfourth. We met first in the Chinese Assembly Room; but the place proving\ntoo small for the crowds which were anxious to hear the debate, we\nadjourned to the large hall.\n\nDr. McCalla was very abusive. He was so intent on calling me bad names,\nand on saying savage and provoking things, that he forgot his argument.\nI kept to the subject. I neither abused my opponent, nor spent my time\nin answering his abuse of me. I reproved him once or twice, telling him\nhow unseemly it was in an old man, professing to be a disciple and a\nminister of Jesus, to show such a spiteful disposition, and to utter\nsuch offensive words; and then went on with my argument. The third night\nmy opponent seemed to be losing his reason. On the fourth night he was\nliterally mad. Loss of sleep, rage, and mortification, seemed to have\nbrought on fever of the brain, and he was really insane. His friends\nwere terribly put about. Many of them were furious, and were plainly\nbent on violence. A policeman climbed up the back of the platform behind\nwhere I was sitting and said in my ear: 'There's mischief brewing: you\nhad better come with me. Step down now while they are looking the other\nway.' I looked for my overcoat and hat, but they were gone. Some one had\ncarried them off, to prevent me from escaping. A gentleman who had seen\na person take them away, and place them in a distant corner of the room,\nseeing what was coming, went and brought them to me, and I at once\nslipped over the back of the platform to the floor, and accompanied the\npoliceman. The crowd, intent on getting towards the front of the\nplatform, had left a vacant space near the wall, and I and the policeman\ngot nearly to the door of the hall before we were observed. But just as\nwe were passing out a cry arose, 'He's off! He's off!' and a maddened\ncrowd prepared for pursuit. When we got into the street the policeman\nsaid hurriedly, 'Which is the way to your lodgings?' 'That,' said I,\npointing south. 'Then come this way,' said he, 'quick;' and he pulled me\nnorth. This probably saved my life. The mob knew which way my lodgings\nlay, and as soon as they got out of the hall, they hurried south, like a\npack of hounds, roaring and furious. I was soon half a mile away in the\nother direction. 'Where shall I take you?' said the policeman. 'Do you\nknow any one hereabouts?' 'Take me to Mr. Mott's,' said I, 'in Arch\nStreet.' We were there in a few moments, and as the door opened to\nreceive me, the policeman received his gratuity, and hastened away. In\nfifteen minutes there was a noise in the street. Mr. Mott opened the\ndoor and looked out, when a brickbat passed just by his head, and broke\nitself to pieces on the door-post, leaving its mark on the marble. He\nhad a narrow escape. He closed the door, and after awhile the mob\ndispersed, and all was quiet. Thus ended the discussion with Dr.\nMcCalla.\n\nOne would have thought that after such an experience as this, I should\nhave taken care to keep out of debates on such an exciting subject. But\nI was daring to madness. I was engaged again in discussion on the same\nsubject, in the same city, in less than a month.\n\nThe clergy of Philadelphia, unwilling to leave the cause of the Bible in\nthis plight, demanded that I should discuss the question with Dr. Berg,\na minister in whom they had great confidence. I yielded to the demand,\nand the discussion took place in Concert Hall, in January, 1854.\n\nThe hall was crowded every night. One very wet and stormy night, the\nnumber present was only 2000, but every other night it was from 2250 to\n2400. A Philadelphia newspaper of that period says, \"We cannot forbear\nto notice the contrast in the manner and bearing of the two disputants.\nMr. Barker uniformly bore himself as a gentleman, courteously and\nrespectfully towards his opponent, and with the dignity becoming his\nposition, and the solemnity and importance of the question. We regret we\ncannot say the same of Dr. Berg, who at times seemed to forget the\nobligations of the gentleman, in his zeal as a controversialist. He is\nan able and skilful debater, though less logical than Mr. Barker; but he\nwasted his time and strength too often on personalities and irrelevant\nmatters. His personal inuendoes and offensive epithets, his coarse\nwitticisms and arrogant bearing, may have suited the vulgar and\nintolerant among his party, but they won him no respect from the calm\nand thinking portion of the audience; while we know that they grieved\nand offended some intelligent and candid men who thoroughly agreed with\nhis views. It is time that Christians and clergymen had learned that men\nwhom they regard as heretics and infidels have not forfeited all claims\nto the respect and courtesies of social life by their errors of opinion,\nand that insolence and arrogance, contemptuous sneers and impeachment of\nmotives and character towards such men, are not effective means of grace\nfor their enlightenment and conversion.\n\n\"There was a large number of men among the audience who lost their\nself-control in their dislike of Mr. Barker's views, and he was often\ninterrupted, and sometimes checked in his argument, by hisses, groans,\nsneers, vulgar cries, and clamors, though through all these annoyances\nand repeated provocations, he maintained his wonted composure of manner\nand his clearness of thought. On the other hand, Dr. Berg was heard with\ngeneral quiet by his opponents, and greeted with clamorous applause by\nhis friends.\"\n\nI am afraid the above remarks were true. Still, Dr. Berg was almost a\ngentleman compared with Dr. McCalla, and he was vastly more of a scholar\nand debater, far as he was from being a model disputant.\n\nDr. Berg had the right side; he stood for the defence of all that was\ngood, and true, and great, and glorious; but the way in which he went\nabout his work was by no means the best one. He took a wrong\nposition,--a position which it was impossible for him to maintain. His\ndoctrine was that the Bible was absolutely perfect,--that the\ninspiration of the Book was such as not only to make it a fit and proper\ninstrument for the religious instruction, and the moral and spiritual\nrenovation, of mankind, but such as to preserve it from all the\ninnocent, harmless, and unimportant weaknesses, imperfections, and\nerrors of regenerate and sanctified humanity. He even contended for a\nkind or a degree of perfection which many of the most highly esteemed\nprofessors and theologians of orthodox churches had relinquished. He\nheld to views about the creation and the universality of the deluge,\nwhich orthodox Christian Geologists like Professor Hitchcock of America,\nas well as Dr. Pye Smith of England, had given up as untenable. He\ncontended for a perfection which, in fact, is physically impossible, and\nwhich, in truth, was inconsistent with his own acknowledgments in other\nparts of the discussion. I have no wish to disparage my opponent; I had\nrather do the contrary; but he did not properly and adequately\nunderstand the great question which he undertook to discuss. Hence he\ngot involved in inextricable difficulties, and, in spite of all he could\ndo, his attempted defence of the Bible was, to a great extent, a\nfailure.\n\nHe said a many good things about the Bible. He proved a many things in\nits favor. He made the impression, at times, that there was something in\nits teachings of a most powerful and blessed tendency; that it was a\nbook of infinite value,--that it was a wonderful teacher and a mighty\ncomforter,--that it had done a vast amount of good, and was calculated\nto do a vast amount more,--that it was a friend and patron of all things\ngood and glorious,--that it was the nurse of individual and national\nvirtue, and the source of personal, domestic, and national happiness. He\nsaid many good things about the excellency of Christ's precepts, and the\nbeauty and glory of His example. A hundred good things he said, both in\nfavor of the Bible, and in opposition to infidelity. But the one great\npoint which he had pledged himself to prove he did _not_ prove. It could\nnot be proved. It was not true. So that though he won a substantial\nvictory; he sustained a logical defeat. And if he had been twenty times\nmore learned, and twenty times more able than he was, he would have been\ndefeated. If a man attempts the impossible, failure is inevitable; and\nif he has a skilful, wary, and able opponent, his failure will be seen\nand felt, even by his most ardent friends, and greatest admirers. And so\nit was in the case of Dr. Berg.\n\nBut the error was not his alone; it was the error of his friends; the\nerror of his patrons; the error of his times. What learning, and talent,\nand zeal, and skill in debate, considerably above the average of his\nprofession, could do, he did; and that was a good deal: and his failure\nwas chargeable not on himself, so much as on the faulty theology of the\nschool in which he had been trained, and to which he still belonged.\n\nSo far as the general merits of the Bible were concerned, I was in the\nwrong. But the fact was not made so plain, so palpable to the audience,\nas it should have been, and as it might have been, if I had had a wiser,\na warier, and an abler opponent, and one who had no false theory of\nBible inspiration or abstract perfection to defend. A man thoroughly\nfurnished for the work, and free from foolish and unauthorized theories,\nwould have been able to give proof of the substantial truth and divinity\nof the Scriptures, and of their transcendent moral and spiritual\nexcellence, absolutely overwhelming; and I do most heartily wish I had\nhad the happiness to encounter such an advocate in my discussions. It\nmight have proved an infinite advantage to me, and an incalculable\nblessing to my friends. As it was, the debate only tended to strengthen\nme in my unbelief, and to increase my confidence in future controversies\nwith the clergy.\n\nHow I answered my own arguments, and got over my own objections, when on\nmy way back to Christianity, I may state hereafter. All I need say here\nis, that I took a _qualified_ view of the divine authority of the Bible,\nand of the doctrine of its divine inspiration,--a view in accordance\nwith facts, and with the teachings of Scripture itself on the subject.\nThis view did not require me to demand in a book of divine origin the\nkind of abstract or absolute perfection which Dr. Berg required, and\nwhich he so rashly undertook to prove. On the contrary, it taught me to\nlook for a thousand innocent and unimportant errors and imperfections in\nthe Bible. A thousand things which would, if proved, have been regarded\nby Dr. Berg as valid objections to the doctrine of its superhuman\nauthority and divine authority, were no objections at all to me. I could\nacknowledge the truth of them all, and yet believe in the substantial\ntruth and divinity of the Book as a whole. The dust and mud of our\nstreets and roads, and the decaying timbers and rotting grasses of our\nforests and farms do not make me question the divine origin and the\nsubstantial perfection of the world: nor do the errors and imperfections\nof ancient transcribers or modern translators, or the want of absolute\nscientific, historical, chronological, literary, theological or moral\nperfection even in the original authors of the Bible, make me doubt its\ndivine origin and inspiration, or its practical and substantial\nperfection. You may show me ten thousand things in the earth which, to\nmultitudes, would seem inconsistent with the doctrine that it is the\nwork of an all-perfect Creator; but they would not be inconsistent with\nthat doctrine in _my_ view. They would probably seem, to my mind, proofs\nof its truth. Things which, to men who had not properly studied them,\nappeared serious defects, or results of Adam's sin, would be seen by me\nto be important excellencies; masterpieces of infinite wisdom and\ngoodness. Many of the things I said about the Bible in my debate with\nDr. Berg were true; but they amounted to nothing. Dr. Berg thought they\nwere serious charges, and that if they were not refuted, they would\ndestroy the credit and power of the Book. He was mistaken. And he never\ndid refute them. If I were in the place of Dr. Berg, and an opponent\nwere to bring forward those things in proof that the Bible was not of\nGod, I should say, Your statements may be true, or they may be false,\nand I do not care much which they are; but they are good for nothing as\ndisproofs of the divine origin and practical perfection of the Bible.\nThe Bible is all it professes to be, and it is more and better than its\ngreatest admirers suppose it to be, notwithstanding its numberless\ntraces of innocent human imperfections. The sun has spots, but they\nneither disprove its value nor its divine origin. The probability is,\nthat the spots in the sun have their use, and would be seen, if properly\nunderstood, to be proofs of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. And\nit is certainly plain to me, that what you regard us defects in the\nBible, are proofs both of its divine origin, and of its real perfection.\n\nI said some things about the Bible in my debate with Dr. Berg, which, if\nthey had been true, would have proved that the Bible was _not_ of divine\norigin. But they were not true. All these things should have been\nrefuted by Dr. Berg with great promptness, and refuted so thoroughly\nand plainly, that every one should have been made to see and feel that\nthey were refuted. But they were not. Some of them were left unnoticed.\nOthers were handled unskilfully. The time and strength that should have\nbeen given to them were wasted on trifles, or unwisely spent in\noffensive personalities, unseasonable witticisms, or attempts at fine\nspeaking.\n\nThe objections of this class, which my opponent failed to answer, or\nanswered unsatisfactorily, we may notice further on.\n\nIn January, 1855, while over on business, I had a public debate at\nHalifax, England, with Brewin Grant, a congregational minister. This, so\nfar as its impression on my own mind was concerned, was the most\nunfortunate discussion I ever had. My opponent was the meanest and most\nunprincipled or ill-principled man I ever met. In a pamphlet which he\nhad published, giving instructions to those who were called to defend\nthe Bible and Christianity against unbelievers, he had laid it down as a\nrule, that their first object should be to destroy the influence of\ntheir opponents, and that in order to do this, they should do their\nutmost to damage their reputation, and make them odious. He acted on\nthis principle, in his debate with me, with the greatest fidelity. He\nraked together, and gave forth in his speeches, all the foolish and\nwicked stories which my old persecutors had fabricated and spread abroad\nrespecting me, except those about my having committed suicide, and being\nsmothered to death, and some others which were so notoriously false that\nthey could no longer be used to my disadvantage. Those stories he\nimproved by making them worse. He made a number of new ones also.\n\nI had published a book, giving the story of my life up to the time of my\nexpulsion from the Methodist New Connexion. This work, like my other\nworks, was written in the clearest and simplest style, so that no man\nwith ordinary abilities could fail to understand it, and no man without\npowers of perversion bordering on the miraculous, could give to any part\nof it an objectionable meaning. This book he took, and read, and\nmisread, and interpreted, and misinterpreted, so as to make the\nimpression on persons unacquainted with it, that I had written and\npublished the most foolish, ridiculous, and in some cases, really\ndiscreditable things of myself, and even false and unwarrantable\nstatements about others.\n\nBefore the discussion came on he gave a lecture on this book. I went to\nhear it. He spoke about an hour, and every quotation from the work, and\nevery reference he made to it, was false. There was not a word of truth\nin the whole lecture. There was not a sentence which was not as opposite\nto truth and as full of falsehood as he could make it. And the ingenuity\nhe displayed in his task was marvellous. It was really devilish. He\nenlarged my conception of the evil powers of wicked men, in the line of\nturning good into evil, and truth into lies, beyond all that I could\notherwise have imagined. He did a hundred things, the least of which my\npoor limited capacity would have deemed impossible.\n\nHe pursued the same course in the debate. He went as far beyond poor\nMcCalla, as McCalla had gone beyond ordinary sinners. If I had\nundertaken to correct his misrepresentations, and expose his fictions, I\nshould not have had one moment to give to the subject we were met to\ndiscuss. So I did as I did with McCalla, I rebuked the man with becoming\nseverity; I contradicted his statements in the plainest and strongest\nway I could; I also offered to arrange for a discussion of personal\nmatters, if he wished it, after we had gone through our discussion of\nprinciples, and engaged to prove every discreditable story he told of me\nto be false, and then went on with the discussion. He accepted my\nchallenge to discuss personalities, but neither kept his engagement, nor\nabated his efforts at misrepresentation during the remainder of the\ndebate.\n\nHe was not content with sober, sad, deliberate falsehood; he resorted to\nridicule. He pulled comical and ugly faces; put out his tongue; put his\nthumb to his nose; threw orange peel at me; and said and did other\nthings which it is not lawful for me to utter.\n\nHe had thought, I suppose, to disgust me; to tire me out; to make me\nwithdraw from the debate, and give him the opportunity of saying he had\nput me to flight. He was mistaken. I kept my ground. And I kept my\ntemper. And I kept my gravity. I rebuked him at times with becoming\nsternness, and then went on with my task. It is probable that I spoke\nmore strongly against the Bible, and that I said harder things against\nthe church and the ministry, than I should have done, if he had\nconducted himself with any regard to truth and decency; but I did not\nraise my voice above its usual pitch, nor did I show any unusual signs\nof indignation, disgust, or irritation. My feelings became more intense,\nmy language more cutting, and my style and logic more pointed and\nforcible; but my manner was calm, and my behaviour guarded.\n\nAnd I husbanded my strength. I let him explode, while I let off my steam\nquietly, and in just measure only, making every particle do its proper\nwork. I wasted neither words, nor strength, nor time. In three or four\ndays my wicked opponent began to get weak and weary. He had tired\n_himself_ instead of me. He had disgusted and put to shame many of his\nfriends. He had driven away several of his supporters. He had weakened\nhis party. He had strengthened his opponent. He had lost, he had\nbetrayed, his cause. He dragged on heavily. He was all but helpless. I\nhad every thing my own way. I had an easy fight, and a decisive victory.\n\nI had the last speech; and when the battle was over, I felt free to deal\nwith my unprincipled opponent rather severely, and I said: \"My opponent\nhas acted, from beginning to end of this debate, in anything but a noble\nand manly way. I refer not merely to his personal abuse, his use of foul\nnames, his insolence of manner, his malignity of spirit; but to the way\nin which he has misconducted the argument. He was pledged to prove the\nBible of Divine origin and authority. He was bound to bring out, as\nearly as possible, what he thought his strongest arguments, and afford\nme an opportunity of meeting them. But he did not do this. To judge from\nhis proceedings, you would conclude that he had no faith in any of the\npopular arguments, such as those employed by Paley, Horne, &c. He sat\nwatching, like an animal we need not name, for some stray thought to\npounce upon. He tried every device to draw me from the question, and\nshowed, not only the greatest reluctance, but a fixed determination, not\nto come any nearer to it himself than he could possibly help. He has\nshown nothing like courage, nothing like confidence in the goodness of\nhis cause, nothing like openness, candor, or generosity; nothing but\ncraft and cunning. He has never fought like a soldier, but dodged like\nan assassin. Honorable men _give up_ a cause that can't be honorably\nmaintained. For myself, ye are witnesses, I came out openly, boldly, and\nat once, and gave my opponent the best opportunity he could have of\ngrappling fairly with my arguments. But he would not meet them. He slunk\nbehind his mud-battery, and instead of firing shot and shell, spurted\nforth filth. By-and-by he took my old deserted battery, and began to\nplay upon me with my worn-out guns and wooden shot, till his friends\ncompelled him to give up. He complained that I had taken up my position\non Mount Horeb, and pattered him with grapeshot from the old Jewish\narmory, and besought and urged me to plant myself on Mount Tabor, or the\nMount of Olives, and try what I could do with Christian ammunition. I\ndid so; but even that did not please him. He stared and squalled, as if\nit had been raining red-hot shot, as thick as it once poured hailstones\nand fire in Egypt, killing every beast that was out in the fields. And\nthus he has gone on. He never seems to have been satisfied, either with\nhis own position or mine. I might have pleased him, no doubt, by giving\nin before the battle, and surrendering at discretion; but that is not my\ncustom. Well, now the battle draws near its close; and no one, I trust,\nhas lost anything, but what is better lost than found. I am satisfied\nwith my own position, and nearly so with my share of the fight. With a\nmanlier foe, I should have had a pleasanter fight; but soldiers cannot\nalways choose their antagonists, nor can they keep, in all cases, to\ntheir own best mode of warfare. The hunter cannot always find the\nnoblest game; and perhaps it is better for his neighbour, if not so\npleasant to himself, that he should sometimes be obliged to employ his\ndogs and rifles in destroying vermin.\n\n\"I feel that an apology is due from me to you and the public, for\nentering the lists with my opponent. It is soon given. When I first\noffered to meet him in discussion on the Bible, I supposed him to be a\nwell-informed and respectable man, and the representative of the\nhighest intellectual and moral culture, combined with superior talent\nand experience as a debater, that the orthodox world could boast. I soon\nfound out my mistake, but I did not feel at liberty to withdraw my\nchallenge. When I learned the infamous character of his personal\nlectures, I declined all further correspondence with him till he should\nretract his slanders; but still I did not feel free to say I would not\ndebate with him, if his friends should bring him to reasonable terms.\nHis friends in Halifax succeeded in doing so, and out of regard to the\nwishes of my friends, I submitted to the temporary degradation of being\nplaced on the same platform with my unprincipled calumniator, and the\ncalumniator of the best, the wisest, and the greatest men of every age\nand nation. I do not regret having done so.\n\n\"He will leave this discussion a sadder and a wiser man. He has found\nthat the power of insolence, and falsehood, and of vulgar, brutal wit,\nhas its bounds; that there are those whom they cannot abash or cow; that\nthe _might_ in moral encounters is with the _right_.\n\n\"I part with my opponent without malice, though without regret. If he\nhas natural characteristics which others have not, and lacks some higher\nqualities which others have, the fault is not entirely his. He did not\nmake himself. Nor did he nurse, or rear, or train himself. He is the\nproduction, and his character may, to a great extent, be the production,\nof influences over which he had no control. I shall not therefore state\nall I have felt while listening to the false and fierce personalities\nwith which this discussion has been disgraced. I will rather acknowledge\nmy own errors, and lament that anything he has said or done should have\nbeen permitted, in any case, to affect my own style of advocacy, and\nrender me less gentle or guarded in my utterances than I otherwise might\nhave been. I retract every expression of unkindness or resentment. I\napologize for everything harsh, offensive, or ungraceful in my manner;\nand I am sorry I could not declare and advocate my views, without\nshocking or distressing some of your minds. And now, with best and\nheartiest wishes for your welfare, and for the welfare of mankind at\nlarge, and in the fall and certain hope of the final, universal, and\neternal triumph of the truth, and in the ultimate regeneration and\nsalvation of our race, I bid you all farewell.\"\n\nThis man purchased the copyright of the debate, and pledged himself to\nissue a correct edition, in accordance with the notes of the reporter.\nInstead of doing so, besides making unlimited alterations in his own\nspeeches, he altered every speech of mine. Some things he left out. In\none case, to prevent an exposure of one of his more reckless\nmis-statements, he left out two pages of one of my speeches. By a free\nand artful use of _italics_, and an abuse of stops, he altered and\nperverted the meaning of quite a multitude of my statements. And when,\nafter all, he found that the publication damaged him terribly in the\nestimation of his friends, he suppressed it altogether.\n\nThe conduct of this opponent had a bad effect on my mind, and if\nanything short of sound reason could have kept me in the ranks of\ninfidelity, it would have been the shameless, the outrageous conduct of\nsuch pretenders to Christianity as this bad man. But I thank God, such\nhorrible and inexcusable inconsistency was not allowed to decide my\nfate. Better powers, sweeter and happier influences, were brought into\nplay to counteract its deadly tendency. And even other opponents, of a\nworthier character and of a higher order, came in my way, who, by their\nChristian temper, and high culture, and by their regard for my feelings,\nand their manifest desire for my welfare, obliterated the bad\nimpressions produced by the unscrupulous and malignant conduct of Brewin\nGrant, and all but won me over to the cause of Christ.\n\nIt happened that while I was yet in England, an arrangement was made for\na public discussion between me and Colonel Michael Shaw, of Bourtree\nPark, Ayr. Colonel Shaw was a kind of lay minister, who preached the\nGospel gratuitously, and spent his time and property in doing good. He\nwas a Christian and a gentleman out and out; a Christian and a gentleman\nof the highest order. Five such men might have saved Sodom and Gomorrah,\nand all the cities of the plain. He was as guileless as a little child,\nand as honest as the light, and about as pure, and good, and kind as a\nregenerated human soul could be. This, at least, was the impression\nwhich his looks, and conversation, and behaviour, made on my mind. He\nnot only commanded my respect, but called forth my veneration; and he\nmade me love him, as I never did love more than two or three good men in\nall my life.\n\nWell, an arrangement was made for a public discussion on the divine\nauthority of the Bible between this good and godly man and me.\n\nThe discussion took place in the City Hall, Glasgow. The Colonel was so\nkind and gentlemanly, that I found my task exceedingly difficult. It was\nvery unpleasant to speak lightly of the faith of so good and true a man;\nor to say anything calculated to hurt the feelings of one so guileless\nand so affectionate. And many a time I wished myself employed about some\nother business, or engaged in a contest with some other man. At the end\nof the second night's debate we were to rest two days, and the Colonel\nwas so kind as to invite me, and even to press me, to spend those days\nwith him at his residence near Ayr. The Colonel had given his good lady\nso favorable an account of my behaviour in the debate, that she wrote to\nme enforcing her good husband's invitation. I went. I could do no other.\nThe Colonel and his venerable father met me at the station with a\ncarriage, and I was soon in the midst of the Colonel's truly Christian\nand happy family. Neither the Colonel nor any of his household attempted\nto draw me into controversy. Not a word was spoken that was calculated\nto make me feel uneasy. There seemed no effort on the part of any one,\nyet every thing was said and done in such a way as to make me feel\nmyself perfectly at home. Love, true Christian love, under the guidance\nof the highest culture, was the moving spirit in the Colonel's family\ncircle. A visit to the birthplace of Burns, and to the banks of Bonny\nDoon, was proposed, and a most delightful stroll we had, made all the\nmore pleasant by the Colonel's remarks on the various objects of\ninterest that came in view, and his apt quotation of passages from the\nworks of the poet, referring to the scenery amidst which we were moving.\n\nOn our return home I was made to feel at ease again with regard to every\nthing but myself. I felt sorry that I should be at variance with my\nkind and accomplished host on a subject of so much interest and\nimportance as religion and the Bible. The thought that on the evening of\nthe coming day I should have to appear on the platform again as his\nopponent, was really annoying. To talk with such a man privately, in a\nfree and friendly way, seemed proper enough; but to appear in public as\nhis antagonist seemed too bad. When we started from Ayr to Glasgow in\nthe same train, and in the same carriage, I felt as if I would much\nrather have travelled in some other direction, or on a different errand.\nBut an agreement had been made, and it must be kept; so two more nights\nwere spent in discussion. But it _was_ discussion,--fair and friendly\ndiscussion,--and not quarrelling. Neither he nor I gave utterance to an\nunkind or reproachful word. When the discussion was over, the Colonel\nshook me by the hand in a most hearty manner in the presence of an\nexcited audience, and presented me with a book as an expression of his\nrespect and good feeling. I made the best returns I could, unwilling to\nbe too much outdone by my gallant and Christian friend. The audience,\ndivided as they were on matters of religion, after gazing some time on\nthe spectacle presented on the platform, as if at loss what to do, or\nwhich of the disputants they should applaud, dropped their differences,\nand all united in applauding both, and the disputants and the audience\nseparated with the heartiest demonstrations of satisfaction and mutual\ngood-will. The events of those days, and the impression I received of my\nopponent's exalted character, never faded from my memory. And though\nthey had not all the effect they ought to have had, their influence on\nmy mind was truly salutary. I have never thought of Colonel Shaw and his\ngood, kind, Christian family, without affection, gratitude, and delight.\nHe wrote to me repeatedly after my return to America, and his letters,\nwhich reached us when we were living among the wilds of Nebraska, were\namong our pleasantest visitants, and must be reckoned among the means of\nmy recovery from the horrors of unbelief.\n\nI cannot doubt but that my encounter with this blessed man did much\ntowards winning back my soul to God, and Christ, and the Church. This\ngracious man,--this child of light and love,--is still living, and he\ncontinues, when I give him the opportunity, to testify his love for me,\nand his good wishes for my health and welfare. God bless his soul; and\nbless his household; and, after having given them a long and happy life\non earth, receive them to His kingdom, to share together the riches of\nHis love for ever and ever.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nCONTINUATION OF MY STORY. FRESH TROUBLES. A CHANGE FOR THE BETTER. HOW\nBROUGHT ABOUT. INCIDENTS. THE CHANGE COMPLETE AT LENGTH. ITS RESULTS.\n\n\nIn compliance with the request of some skeptical neighbours, I lectured\nagainst the Divine authority of the Bible in my first settlement in\nOhio. Mr. Spofforth, a Methodist minister was induced to hold a public\ndiscussion with me on the subject, and as he was not well acquainted\neither with his own side of the question or the other, he was soon\nembarrassed and confounded, and obliged to retire from the contest. Not\ncontent with the retirement of my opponent, I announced another course\nof lectures on the Bible, resolved not to relinquish my hold of the\npeople's attention, till I had laid before them my thoughts on the\nexciting subject at greater length. The company listened to me for a\ntime with great patience, but while I was giving my last lecture, some\nyoung men set to work outside to pull down the log school-house in which\nI was speaking, and I and my friends had to make haste out before the\nlecture was over, to avoid being buried before we were dead.\n\nThe young men had provided themselves plentifully with rotten eggs,\nthinking to pelt me on my way home; but the night was very dark, and the\nway led through a tall, dense, shadowy forest, and somehow they mistook\ntheir own father for me, and gave _him_ the eggs. When he got home he\nwas as slimy and odoriferous as a man need to be; while I was perfectly\nclean and sweet.\n\nBut I was not to be permitted to escape in this way. During the night\nthey pulled down the fences of my farm, and gave me other hints, that I\nmust leave, or do worse. So I sold my farm for what I could get, and\nbought another some seventy miles away, near Salem, Columbiana County, a\nregion occupied chiefly by what, in America, were called\n\"_Come-outers_\"--people who had left the churches and the ministry, and\neven separated themselves from civil organizations, resolved to be\nsubject to no authority but their own wills or their own whims. Among\npeople so free as those, I thought I should have liberty plenty; but I\nsoon found that they were so fond of freedom, that they wanted _my_\nshare as well as their own, and I got into trouble once more. And then I\nsaw that the greatest brawlers about liberty, when they come to be\ntried, are often the most arrant despots and tyrants on the face of the\nearth.\n\nThen the people in the district were not _all_ Come-outers. Some were\nChristians. And these I provoked by my disregard of the Sabbath, and by\nmy advocacy of views unfriendly to religion and the divine authority of\nthe Bible. I worked in my garden or on my farm on a Sunday, in sight of\nmy neighbors as they went to church. I had previously called a Bible\nconvention in the place, and taken the leading part in its proceedings.\nI took the skeptical side in a public discussion on Christianity in the\ntown, and gave utterance to sentiments which pained the hearts of the\nreligious portion of my neighbors beyond endurance. The consequence was,\nI got into trouble again, and had to move once more, or be undone.\n\nSo I moved once more. This time I resolved to make sure of a quiet home,\nso I went right away beyond the limits of the States, into the unpeopled\nterritory of Nebraska, a country at that period ten or twelve times as\nlarge as Pennsylvania or England, and containing less than five thousand\nwhite inhabitants--an immense wilderness, occupied chiefly by tribes of\nred Indians, herds of buffalo and deer, countless multitudes of wolves,\nwith here and there a bear, a panther, or a catamount, and heaps of\nrattlesnakes. And here I thought I should be safe. And so I was. The\nIndians gave me no trouble. I always treated them kindly, and they were\nkind to me in return. As for the wild beasts, God has \"put the fear and\ndread of man upon every beast of the earth;\" and as he approaches, they\nretire. As a rule, the fiercest beasts of the forest will turn aside to\nmake way for man. I have lived in the midst of multitudes of wolves, and\ntaken no harm. I have slept on the open prairie in regions swarming with\nwolves, and never been disturbed. I have travelled by night in other\nparts of the country, over the wildest mountains, the homes of panthers,\nbears, and catamounts, and never been molested. The rattlesnakes were\nthe most dangerous creatures. Yet even from them I took no harm, I have\nwalked among them time after time in slippers or low shoes, yet I never\nwas bitten. I slept once for three nights with a rattlesnake within two\nor three inches of my breast, yet escaped unhurt. God took care of me,\nwhen I neither took due care of myself, nor cared as I ought for Him.\n\nThe parties I feared the most were the white people. They had heard of\nme, and as they passed me in the street, they looked at me askance,\nregarding me apparently as a mystery or a monster. But I never shocked\nthem by skeptical lectures, or by any other act of hostility to\nreligion, so they bore with me, and came at length to treat me with\nrespect and confidence. My wife and family were regarded with favor from\nthe first. And I shall never forget the kindness of one of our Christian\nneighbors to my wife, in a time of affliction and sorrow.\n\nAnd it is from my settlement in this desolate and far-off region, that I\ndate the commencement of a change for the better in the state of my\nmind. I do not say that my opinions began to change, but the state of my\n_feelings_ got better, which rendered possible a change for the better\nin my sentiments.\n\nBut I had reached a sad extreme. I had lost all trust in a Fatherly God,\nand all good hope of a better life. I had come near to the horrors of\nutter Atheism. And the universe had become an appalling and inexplicable\nmystery. And the world had come to be a dreary habitation; and life a\nweary affair; and many a time I wished I had never been born. And there\nwere occasions when the dark suggestion came, \"Life is a burden; throw\nit down.\" But I said; \"Nay; there are my wife and children: I will live\nfor their sakes if for nothing else.\" And for their sakes I did live,\nthank God, till I had something else to live for.\n\nIf I were asked what first gave a check to my skepticism, and led me to\nturn my face once more towards Christ and Christianity, I should say,\n\"The answer is supplied by my story.\" As I have shown, it was the\ntroubled state of my mind,--the tempest of unhappy feeling, and the\nwhirlwind of excitement in which I had lived so long,--that had most to\ndo in carrying me away from Christ; and now my mind was allowed to be at\nrest. The whirlwind of excitement had spent its fury. The tempest in my\nsoul had subsided, so that the principal hindrance to my return was\ngone. There were other causes that had contributed to the destruction of\nmy faith in Christ and Christianity, but this was the first and chief\none, and the one which gave the principal part of their force to the\nrest. As I have shown, I had been taught things about the Scriptures\nthat were not correct. I had found a number of the arguments used by\ndivines in support of the divinity of the Scriptures to be unsound. I\nhad detected pious frauds in the writings of some of the advocates of\nthe Bible and Christianity. I had met with untenable views on the\ninspiration and infallibility of the Scriptures. I had, besides, adopted\na defective method of reasoning on religious matters, which exerted an\ninjurious influence on my mind. All these things, and many others which\nI cannot at present mention, had proved occasions of doubt and unbelief.\nBut the probability is, that none of these things would have destroyed\nmy faith in Christ, if I had been in a proper state of mind. There was\nnothing in them to justify unbelief to a mind unprejudiced,\nundistempered, calm. There was attractiveness enough in Christ, if the\nmists which passion had thrown around Him, to hide His worth and glory\nfrom my view, could be cleared away. And there was truth and goodness\nenough in Christianity, and there were evidences sufficient of its\ndivinity, if one could have the films removed from one's eyes, and be\npermitted to behold it in its own sweet light. The great difficulty was\nin the disordered state of my mind, and the trying nature of my\nsituation. What was wanted, therefore, to make it possible for me to\nreturn to my former faith, was not so much an explanation of particular\ndifficulties, as a better, happier, calmer state of mind. Explanations\nof difficulties _were_ desirable, but they were not the first or\nprincipal things required. The great, the _one_ thing needful, at the\noutset, was a fitting state of mind,--a mind sufficiently free from\nirritation, painful excitement, and consequent unhappy bias, to enable\nme to do justice to the religion of Christ. And the circumstances in\nwhich I was placed in Nebraska were calculated to bring me to this\ndesirable state of mind; and many things which befel me there were\ncalculated to stimulate my return to Christ.\n\n1. In the first place, I was in a region favorable to calm and serious\nthought. True, we were infected for a time with the fever of speculation\nso prevalent in new countries; and we shared the hardships and toils,\nthe cares and anxieties, of a border life: but there were seasons when\nserious thought and salutary reflection were inevitable. I was often\nalone amid the quiet and solemnity of a boundless wilderness. The busy\nworld of men was far away. There was no one near to foster doubt or\nunbelief, or to reopen or irritate afresh the closing wounds inflicted\nby bigotry and intolerance in days gone by. And the loneliness of my\ncondition seemed to bring me nearer to God. It allowed the revival of\nthose Godward-tending instincts implanted in man's heart by the hand of\nthe Creator. It favored the resurrection to life of the natural\nreligious affections, and the revival of those holy longings and\naspirations after a higher life and a grander destiny than earth can\ngive, which arise so spontaneously in the breasts of men. It allowed the\nbetter self to rise and assert its power, while it shamed the evil self\ninto the shade. And often, when away beyond the sight of man or of human\nhabitation, amidst the eternal silence and the boundless solitude, I had\nstrange thoughts and strange feelings; and there were times when, if I\nhad yielded to the impulses from within, I should have cast myself down\nupon the ground, and adored the Great Mysterious Infinite.\n\nOn one occasion I went, in company with my youngest son and a friend,\nsome distance into the interior of the country. At one point we came\nupon a deserted and decaying Indian village, and then upon an Indian\ntrack across the desert. A little further on we struck a Mormon track,\nalong which a company of the Latter-day saints had groped their way\ntowards their promised Paradise in the Salt Lake Valley. As we followed\nthe track we came upon a mound, and then upon another, marking the spots\nwhere worn-out travellers had ended their weary pilgrimages, and been\nconsigned, amid the desolate wilds, to their final resting places. Into\none of these unprotected graves the wolves had made their way, to feed\nupon the fallen victim of the new faith. When night came on it found us\nin these dreary and desolate wilds, and there we had to prepare to pass\nthe night under the open sky, with multitudes of wolves around us. We\nhad hardly spread our blankets when the sky was covered with black and\nheavy clouds, and lightnings flashed, and thunders roared, and\neverything betokened a night of storm and rain. We protected ourselves\nagainst the threatening elements as well as we could, and prepared\nourselves for cold and drenching showers, and for a sleepless and\ntroubled night, when, happily for us, the wind suddenly changed, and\ndissipated the clouds. The stars came out in all their glory, and the\nnight was calm and bright, and all we had to try our patience was a\nlittle frost. And there I slept; and there I often awoke; and in my\nintervals of wakefulness I gazed on the magnificence of the outspread\nskies, and mused on the dreariness of the surrounding wilderness, and\nthought of the stirring scenes through which I had passed in days gone\nby, and of the strange and death-like silent one in which I then was\nplaced. \"And what will the future be?\" said I. \"And here is my son; in\nthe spring of life; on adventures so strange; in a universe so vast and\nso mysterious; what will be his destiny? And what will be the destiny of\nthe dear ones we have left behind?\" And then I lost myself in a world of\nstrange imaginings. When wearied with my restless musings, I sank to\nrest again, and passed from waking into sleeping dreams.\n\nMorning broke at length, and we arose, and started on our journey. The\ndeer were skipping gaily over the plains. The wolves were hiding in\ntheir holes. We came at length to a stream. It was skirted by a grove,\ninto which we made our way, and there we kindled a fire, and prepared\nour breakfast. We filled our coffee kettle from the brook. A hazel twig\nserved us for a toasting fork; and we were soon engaged in one of the\npleasantest parts of a hungry traveller's work. We relished our bread\nand ham and coffee amazingly. The wolves might be snuffing the odor of\nour viands, and coveting our repast; but they remained within their\nhiding-places, and kept silent; and we finished our meal in peace.\n\nWe rested next on the outskirts of a grove on the banks of the Elkhorn\nriver. Here I was left to take care of the stuff, to prepare a bed, and\nto gather wood for a fire to cook our supper, and to frighten away the\nwolves, and keep us warm through the night, I gathered a quantity of dry\nand withered grass, and spread it on the ground, and covered it with a\nblanket, for a bed. I then looked around for wood. I saw some down in a\ndark deep gully, and went to fetch it; when I found myself all alone and\nunarmed in front of a hideous wolf-hole. I retreated with all the haste\nI could, and was soon on the top of the bank again, panting and\ntrembling, and endeavoring to increase the distance between myself and\nthe horrible den as rapidly as I could. I next looked round for wood on\nsafer ground, and having collected a quantity, I waited with anxiety for\nthe return of my companions. We slept that night in a half-built and\ndeserted log cabin, without doors or windows, put up by some adventurous\nborder-man to secure a claim to a portion of the surrounding land. A\nconsiderable part of the cabin was without roof. And there were large\nspaces between the layers of logs through which the frosty winds had\nfree admission. For a time we deliberated whether we should be colder\ninside the cabin or outside. At length we decided in favor of the\ninterior. We then took the wagon body off the frame and carried it into\nthe cabin, and raised it on one side to screen us from the wind which\ncame through the cabin walls. Against the wall at our head we fixed up\nrugs. At our feet, between our bed and the open doorway, we had our\nblazing fire. And there we slept. We had prickly sensations in our eyes\nin the morning, but they soon passed away. We took no cold, or none that\nproved serious at all. And the wolves seemed to keep at a respectable\ndistance.\n\nAs soon as we had got through our breakfast, and put our wagon and team\nin order, we started homewards. At one point, as we passed along, a wolf\nlooked quietly down upon us from the side of a hill just by. A bigger\none had passed us as we stood in front of the half-built cabin in which\nwe had passed the night. The region abounded with them, on every side.\n\nWhile crossing a tract of rich bottom land, where the dry and withered\ngrass of the previous summer lay thick, I struck a light, and for an\nexperiment, set the prairie on fire. The flames blazed forth at once\nlike gunpowder. They spread and roared. The wind rose, and blew the\nflames in the direction of our wagon. It was all we could do to get to\nthe wagon and jump in and flee. We had no sooner started the horses than\nwe found that the traces of one of them were loose, and we had to jump\nout again to fasten them; and before we could retake our places the\nflames were almost at our ears. The horses fled, however, at a good\nquick pace, and speedily carried us beyond the reach of danger, and we\ngot safe home.\n\n2. There were many things in my new situation and in my strange way of\nlife, besides the silence and the solitude of a boundless desert, that\nwere calculated to awaken within me solemn feeling, and to rouse me to\nserious thoughtfulness on things pertaining to God and religion. And\nwhen once my mind had begun to awake to such matters, it was never\npermitted to sink again, for any length of time, into its former\ndeath-like slumber. And many things befel me that tended to make me\nfeel, and feel most painfully at times, the helplessness and\ncheerlessness, the gloom and wretchedness, of the man who has lost his\ntrust in God, and his hope of a blessed immortality. There is nothing in\nutter doubt and unbelief to satisfy a man with a heart. A man with a\nheart wants a Father in whose bosom he can repose, a Saviour in whose\ncare and sympathy he can trust, and a better world to which he can look\nforward as his final home and resting-place, and as the eternal home and\nresting-place of those who are dear to him. And I _had_ a heart. I was\nnot made for infidelity. I never submitted to it willingly, and I never\nsat easy under its power. I had affections, cravings, wants, which\nnothing but religion could satisfy.\n\n3. Then trouble came. Infidelity is a wretched affair even in\nprosperity; but in adversity it is still worse. And adversity overtook\nme. In the spring of 1857 we had a reasonable income, from property\nwhich we supposed to be of considerable value. A few weeks later a panic\ncame, and our income fell to nothing; our property was valueless;\ninstead of a support it became a burden, and we had to set to work to\nget a living by our labor, at a time when work was hard to be got, and\nwhen wages were down at the lowest point. This was a time of great\ndistress and grievous trial, and I felt the want of consolation most\nkeenly. I could once have said, \"Although the fig tree shall not\nblossom, neither shall fruit be on the vines; the labor of the olive\nshall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut\noff from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet will I\nrejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.\" But now I\n_had_ no God. The universe had no great Fatherly Ruler. The affairs of\nman were governed by chance, or by a harsh and grinding necessity; and\nall good ground of hope and cheerful trust had given place to doubt, and\ngloom, and cruel uncertainty.\n\n4. Trials of other kinds came. Sickness and pain entered our dwelling,\nand seized upon one of my family. My youngest son was taken ill. He was\nracked with excruciating pain. It seemed as if the agony would drive him\nto distraction, or cut short his days. And there I stood, watching his\nagony, and distracted with his cries, unable to utter a whisper about a\ngracious Providence, or to offer up a prayer for help or deliverance.\n\n5. Another dear one was afflicted; and again my heart was torn, and\nagain my lips were sealed. I could not even say to the suffering one,\n\"God bless you.\"\n\n6. I was called to attend the funeral of a child. The parents were in\ngreat distress, and I was anxious to speak to them a word of comfort;\nbut doubt and unbelief had left me no such word to speak. I remembered\nthe day when I could have said, \"Of such is the kingdom of heaven.\"\n\n     \"They rest in Jesus, and are blest,\n     How sweet their slumbers are.\"\n\nBut the happy day was gone, and I was dumb in the presence of the\nmourners.\n\n7. I was called, on another occasion, to visit a friend, a brother\nskeptic, who was sick and likely to die. I had often visited him when he\nwas well, and we had managed, on those occasions, to interest or amuse\neach other; but now we were helpless. Both were in sorrow, and neither\ncould console his brother. And there we were, looking mournfully on each\nother in the face of death, speechless and comfortless. I am horrified\nwhen I think of the dreadful position in which I was placed on those\nsolemn occasions. It seemed to me as if I had been enchanted all those\ndreary days by some malignant demon, and made the sport of his infernal\ncruelty. My friend, like myself, had been a Christian in his earlier\ndays, and had rejoiced in the assurance of God's love and favor, and in\nhopes of future and eternal blessedness; and now he was passing away in\nutter cheerlessness and hopelessness. He died, and I followed his\nremains to the grave. I spoke; but I had no great comforting truths with\nwhich to cheer the sad hearts of his weeping kindred. I looked down,\nwith his disconsolate widow, and his sorrowing children, into the dark\ncold vault, but could say not a single word of a better life. We\nsorrowed as those who have no hope.\n\n8. While I was in Nebraska my mother died. Like my father, who had died\nsome years before, she had been a Christian from her early days; a very\nhappy one; and she continued a Christian to the last. She was one of the\nmost affectionate and devoted mothers that ever lived. She had eleven\nchildren. The eldest one died when he was twenty-one, after having spent\na number of years, young as he was, as an able and useful minister of\nChrist. He died a happy death. The remaining ten were all permitted to\ngrow up to manhood and womanhood, and my mother had the happiness at one\ntime, an unspeakable happiness to her, to see them all, with one\nexception, devoted to the service of God, and several of them engaged\nas preachers of the Gospel. They were joyful days to her when she could\nget them all together, as she sometimes did, to sing with her the sweet\nhymns of praise and gratitude, of hope and rapture, which had cheered\nher so often during the years of her pilgrimage. And now she was gone. I\nhad seen her some years before when on a visit to my native land. She\nknow of my skeptical tendencies, and though she had faith in my desire\nto be right, she was afraid lest I should miss my way, and entreated me\nwith all the affectionate tenderness of an anxious mother, not to allow\nmyself to be carried away from the faith and hope of the Gospel. \"Do\npray, my dear son,\" she said,--\"Do pray that God may lead you in the\nright path. I want to meet you all in heaven. It would be a dreadful\nthing if any of you should be found wanting at last. Don't forsake God.\nDon't leave Christ. Religion is a reality; a blessed reality. I know it,\nI feel it, my dear son. It is the pearl of great price.\" These were the\nlast words I heard from her lips. I listened to them in silence. Though\nI was too far gone to be able to sympathize with her remarks as much as\nI ought, I was wishful that she should enjoy all the comfort that her\nfaith could give her. She wept; she prayed for me; she kissed me; and I\nleft her, to see her face no more on earth. I returned to my home in\nAmerica, and the next thing I heard of the dear good creature was, that\nshe had finished her course. I kept the sad intelligence to myself, for\nmy heart was too full to allow me to speak of my loss, even to those who\nwere nearest and dearest to me. I thought of all her love for me from my\nearliest days; and of all her labors and sacrifices for my comfort and\nwelfare. I remembered her counsels and her warnings. I remembered her\nlast kind words, her kiss, her prayers, her tears. It seems dreadful;\nbut unbelief had so chilled my soul, that I could no longer indulge the\nsweet thought of an immortal life even for the soul of my dear good\nChristian mother. I had once had visions of a land of rest, a paradise\nof bliss, and countless crowds of happy souls, and rapturous songs, and\nshouts of praise, and joyous meetings of loving and long parted friends\nin realms of endless life and boundless blessedness; but all were gone.\nA sullen gloom, a deathlike stupor, a horrible and unnatural paralysis\nof hope had come in place of those sweet visions of celestial glories.\nMy only comfort was, that though I had ceased to believe in the divinity\nof Christianity myself, _she_ had retained her faith, and had lived and\ndied in the enjoyment of its consolations.\n\n9. We had a young woman that had lived with us, with the exception of\ntwo short intervals, all the time we had been in America. She had come\nto regard us as her natural guardians, and we had come to look on her as\none of our family. The second time she left us she caught a fever, and\nreturned to us in hopes that in her old and quiet home she would soon be\nwell again. We procured her medical aid, but the fever got worse. The\ndoctor lost hopes, and it soon began to be evident, that she was doomed\nto a speedy death. I attended her during the last sad night of her\nsufferings. I heard her moanings as her life drew slowly towards a\nclose. I wanted to comfort her, but I had lost the power. I could once\nhave spoken to her of a Father in heaven, and of a better world; but I\ncould speak on those subjects no longer. I could once have kneeled by\nher side and prayed; but I could pray no more. I could neither comfort\nmyself nor my dying charge. She passed away without a word of\nconsolation or a whisper of hope to cheer her as she trod the dark\nvalley of the shadow of death. I stood by, afflicted and comfortless,\nwhen her lifeless form was committed to its final resting-place, unable\nto speak a word of hope or consolation to the sorrowing minds that were\ngathered around her grave. She was interred on the slope of the hill, on\nthe opposite side of the stream over against my farm, within view of the\nfield and the garden in which I often worked, and the lonely dwelling in\nwhich I frequently slept. And there she lay, far from her kindred and\nher native land, the wild winds moaning over her solitary grave, and no\nsweet word about God, or Christ, or a better life, to mark the spot\nwhere she slept. And there, on that quiet farm, and in that solitary\ndwelling, with that one melancholy grave in view, I passed at times the\nlong sad days, and the still and solemn nights, in utter loneliness,\ngazing on the desolate scenes around, or feeding on saddening thoughts\nwithin, \"without hope and without God in the world.\" I sought for\ncomfort in a Godless and Christless philosophy, but sought in vain. I\ntried to extort from nature some word of consolation, but not a whisper\ncould I obtain. I tried to forge some theory of my own that might lessen\nthe gloom in which I was wrapt; but my efforts were fruitless. The light\nof life was quenched; the joy, the bliss of being was no more. I had\n\"forsaken the fountain of living waters,\" and nothing remained but\nbroken cisterns that could hold no water. I was wretched; and, apart\nfrom God, and Christ, and immortality, my wretchedness was incurable;\nand the sense of my wretchedness prepared me, and ultimately constrained\nme, to look once more in the direction of the religion that had cheered\nme in my earlier days.\n\n10. I had a great and grievous trial of another kind while in Nebraska.\nWhen we removed to that far-off country, we left our eldest son in Ohio\nto look after our interests there, and to send off to us what goods we\nmight require in our new home. The river Ohio, down which our goods had\nto be sent, was low at the time, and the steamer on which they were\nplaced, while racing recklessly with another steamer, struck on a rock\nand was wrecked. There were over a thousand volumes of my books on\nboard, the best and principal part of my library; nearly all my\nmanuscripts too were on board, and much other property, amounting in\nvalue to twelve or thirteen hundred pounds; over $6,000; and nearly all\nwas lost, or irreparably damaged.\n\nThis however was but a light part of the trial. As soon as my eldest son\ngot news of the wreck, he hastened to the spot, to save what portions of\nour property he could. The weather was hot by day, and cold by night.\nBoth the season and the place were unhealthy, and by his great anxiety,\nand excessive labors, and continual exposure, he brought on a violent\nfever. The first information we received about the matter was that he\nwas dying. When the dreadful tidings reached us we were more than a\nthousand miles away. I started at once for Ohio, and made what haste I\ncould to reach my son; but go what way I would, I must be four or five\nlong days on the road, and four or five long nights. I took my way down\nthe river. For four long days and four long dreary nights I travelled,\nin doubt all the time whether my child was dead or alive. And all that\ntime I was unable to offer up a prayer, either for my son, myself, or\nthe anxious and sorrowing ones I had left behind. Nor could I apply to\nmyself a single consolatory promise of Scripture. My mad antichristian\nphilosophy had robbed me of all. God and His Providence, Christ and His\nsympathy, heaven and its blessedness, were all gone, and nothing was\nleft but the hard blank horrors of inexorable fate. My soul was shut up\nas in a dungeon, unable to help itself. It was stretched on a rack, and\ntortured with excruciating pain. Those four long dreary days and nights\nwere the darkest and most miserable I ever passed. But God was merciful.\nI lived to reach the end of my dreadful journey, and He had spared my\nson. We embraced,--we wept. We were spared--the whole of our family were\nspared, thank God--for better days, and for a happier lot.\n\n11. There were other events which befell me while I was in Nebraska,\nthat had a salutary influence on my mind. I was frequently in the\ngreatest danger, and was as frequently preserved from harm. As I have\nsaid, I slept three nights with a rattlesnake within three inches of my\nbreast. My eldest son slept repeatedly in the same terrible position;\nyet we both escaped unhurt. Once I was within an inch--within a hair's\nbreadth, I may say--of being killed by the kick of a horse. On another\noccasion, when my eldest son was forking hay in the field, and I was\npiling it on the wagon, he heard a rattlesnake, and looked all round\nupon the ground to find it, with a view to kill it, but looked in vain.\nAt length, turning his eyes upwards, he saw it writhing and wriggling on\none of the prongs of his hayfork, which he was holding up in the air. He\nhad pierced the deadly creature while forking the hay, and I had taken\nthe hay from the fork with my naked hands, and escaped unbitten. I had\nquite a multitude of escapes from deadly peril, some more remarkable\nthan those I have described. And there were times when the thoughts of\nthose wonderful deliverances made me feel, that there were far more\nincredible doctrines than that of a watchful and gracious Providence.\n\n12. Again. When I commenced my career of religious exploration, I\nexpected I should get rid of all difficulties, and that I should reach a\nregion at last where all would be light; where there would be no more\nharassing or perplexing mysteries. For a time my hopes appeared to get\nrealized. The doctrines of Calvinism I threw away in mass, and thus got\nrid of the difficulties connected with predestination, election and\nreprobation. The difficulties connected with infinite and absolute\nfore-knowledge I got rid of by modifying and limiting the doctrine. Many\ntheological difficulties appeared to arise, not from the doctrines of\nScripture, but from anti-christian fictions, and false theories of\nScripture doctrines. These I set aside without much ceremony. But when\none difficulty was disposed of, another made its appearance, and in some\ncases several. And when I got outside the religion of Christ, more\ndifficulties than ever made their appearance, and difficulties often of\na more appalling character. The doctrine of predestination came back in\nthe shape of fate or necessity. All the great difficulties of theology\nhad ugly likenesses in infidel philosophy. Instead of reaching a region\nof unsullied light, I got into one of clouds and darkness. And the\nfurther I wandered, the blacker the clouds became, and the thicker the\ndarkness. The difficulties, the perplexities, on the side of unbelief,\nwere more distressing and embarrassing than those I had encountered on\nthe side of Christianity.\n\n13. Again. I was frequently tried by the characters of unbelievers. I\nhad read and believed that many of the older unbelievers had been\nimmoral; but I supposed that modern unbelievers were a better class. I\nhad seen a number of statements to that effect in books and newspapers,\nsome of them proceeding from Christians, and even from Christian\nministers. I was disposed to believe that even the older infidels had\nnot been so bad as represented. I knew that _I_ had been belied, and I\nconsidered it probable that all who had had quarrels or controversies\nwith members of the priesthood, had been belied in like manner. I\nbelieved for a long time, that the loss of faith in the supernatural\norigin of Christianity and the Bible, had made me better, in some\nrespects, instead of worse. I thought no changes had taken place in my\ncharacter, but what, on the whole, were improvements. For years after I\nbecame an unbeliever, I endeavored to practise all the unquestionable\nvirtues inculcated in the Bible, and I was disposed to believe that\nmodern unbelievers generally did the same. And when I lectured against\nthe Divine authority of the Bible, I disclaimed, as I have already said,\nall sympathy with those who rejected the Bible because it\ndiscountenanced vice. And such was the violence of my anti-religious\nfanaticism, that I had actually come at one time to believe that\ninfidelity, in connection with natural science, was more friendly to\nvirtue than Christianity.\n\nBut my faith in this view met with many rude shocks after I had been\nsome time in America. Often when I came to be acquainted with the men\nwho invited me to lecture, I was ashamed to be seen standing with them\nin the streets; and I shrank from the touch of their hand as from\npollution. And many a time when I had associated with persons for a\nlength of time, thinking them above suspicion, I was amazed to find, at\nlength, that they looked on vicious indulgence as harmless, and were\nastonished that any man who had lost his faith in Christianity, should\nhave scruples with regard to fornication or adultery. Though these\npainful discoveries did not at once convince me that infidelity was\nwrong, and Christianity right, they were not without effect. They\nlessened my respect for the infidel philosophy, and prepared the way for\nmy return to Christ. In England, where I expected on my return, to find\nunbelievers better, I found them worse. I supposed that the Secularists\nthought as I did with regard to virtue. I thought their object was to\nadvance the temporal interests of mankind, and never dreamt but that\nthey regarded virtue as the greatest of those interests. And when I\nfound first one and then another to be dishonest, drunken, licentious, I\nwas disposed to regard them as exceptions to the general rule. To the\nlast; nay, for some time after my entire separation from the party, I\nsupposed the profligate, unprincipled, abandoned ones to be the few, and\nthe honest and virtuous ones to be the many. And when at length I was\nconvinced past doubt of my mistake, the effect was terribly painful. But\nit was salutary. It went far towards convincing me, that whether\nreligion was founded in truth or not, it was necessary to the virtue and\nhappiness of mankind. It prepared me and inclined me still further to\nreturn to Christ, and brought me a step or two nearer to His side.\n\n14. Then again, the influences of my family were strongly in my favor. I\nhad a wife that always loved me, and that never ceased to pray. And I\nhad children that grew up believers, to a great extent, under the shadow\nof my unbelief. They had suffered, as I have already said, from the\ncruel treatment to which they had seen their father subjected: they had\nbeen awfully prejudiced against certain classes of ministers, if not\nagainst ministers generally; but now their prejudices were well nigh\ngone. And they had never been embittered against Christianity. And now\nthey had come to feel strongly in its favor, and to look on skepticism\nboth as a great error, and a terrible calamity. My youngest son was\nsomething of a genius. He was a clever mathematician, and an acute\nlogician. And he would say to me sometimes, when he heard me uttering\nantichristian sentiments, \"Father, I think you are wrong. I am sure you\nare wrong on that point; and if you will listen to me I think I can\nconvince you that you are.\" And I did listen. I had long been accustomed\nto regard my children more as friends and companions, than as inferiors,\nand to encourage them to speak to me with all freedom. And they were\nkind and considerate enough as a rule to use the liberty I gave them\nwithout abusing it; so I hearkened to their remarks and remonstrances.\nAnd there were occasions on which the logic of the child proved mightier\nthan the logic of the father--there were cases in which the father\nlearned lessons of truth, from those whom he ought to have instructed.\nMy eldest son, if not so powerful in logic, was surpassed by none in\ngoodness and tenderness; and if his brother excelled him in acuteness\nand caution, no one could excel him in devout and passionate longings\nfor his father's return to Christ. And both these sons, and the whole of\nmy family, exerted an influence, which tended first to check the\nextravagances of my skepticism, and then to help and hasten my return to\nthe truth as it is in Jesus.\n\nMy sons assisted me in more ways than one. They were more observant of\nmen than I was, and they were better judges of character. And they had\nbetter opportunities than I had, of learning what the infidels with whom\nthey came in contact, really were, both in their principles and way of\nlife. And they were readier to receive the truth on the subject than I.\nThe consequence was, that both in America and in England, they gathered\nup a multitude of facts that I should have passed unnoticed; and were\nprepared to use them for my benefit, when the proper time should come.\nAnd the proper time did come at length. I could believe nothing against\nparties with whom I was connected, on any one's testimony, till I had\nbegun myself to detect their misdoings. My wife and children knew this,\nso they never troubled me with _their_ discoveries, till I had myself\nbegun to make similar discoveries. As soon as they found I had seen\nenough to shake my confidence in a number of the unbelievers--as soon as\nthey found that I had got rid of my mad prejudices in favor of the\nparties, and had so far come to myself as to have obtained the use of my\neyes and understanding, they knew that the time for making known to me\n_their_ discoveries had come. And they made them known. And they agreed\nso perfectly with what I myself had seen and proved, that I could no\nlonger discredit their statements. And they explained a multitude of\nother matters. Thus another blow was struck, both at my faith in\nskeptics, and my faith in skepticism.\n\nAnd both my wife and children had, on the whole, wonderful patience with\nme in my tardy movements towards the truth. When I consider how much of\nevil they saw in connexion with infidelity, and how strong their feeling\nwas of the truth and necessity of religion, I wonder at their\nforbearance. At times their patience was well-nigh exhausted, but they\nseldom betrayed the fact by their behavior. But my eldest son informed\nme, after my return to Christ, that at one time, doubting whether I\nshould ever be cured of my insanity, he made up his mind to forswear all\nother occupations, and give himself exclusively to the Christian\nministry, that he might spend his life and powers in a ceaseless warfare\nagainst the horrible delusions to which I seemed so irretrievably\nwedded.\n\n15. In the year 1857, towards the close of the summer, I left my home in\nNebraska for a time, and went eastward on a lecturing tour. My first\nappointment was at East Liverpool, in Ohio. There I met with my good,\nold friend John Donaldson, of Byker, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, England. He\nspoke of days long past, when we worked together in the cause of Christ.\nHe was kind, as he had always been; but it troubled him to find me so\nchanged--so far estranged from the views of former times. Though glad to\nsee my friend, the memories which his presence revived, of the days when\nI was a happy and a useful minister of Christ, and the partial\nre-awakening of old religious thoughts and feelings which it occasioned,\nmade me feel, for a moment, an indescribable sensation, as of one who\nhad got an unlooked-for glimpse of some fearful loss he had sustained,\nor of some tremendous mistake he had committed. My infidel logic,\nhowever, hastened to my aid, and assured me I was right; but the deep\nand deathless instincts of my soul were not entirely at rest.\n\nI reached Philadelphia at length. There I was engaged by Dr. W. Wright\nfor eight months. I lectured every Sunday, sometimes on theological,\nsometimes on moral, and sometimes on scientific and general subjects. I\nalways urged on my hearers a virtuous life, and did what I could to\nescape the society of persons of immoral habits. And I thought, for a\ntime, I had succeeded. But I was grievously mistaken. One of the acting\nmen in my congregation was a Plymouth man. He, as I afterwards found,\nhad deserted his wife and family, and was living with another woman.\nAnother, a more important member of my congregation, whom I supposed to\nbe an example of propriety, turned out to be an advocate of unlimited\nlicense. And another, a man of great wealth, who had often invited me to\nhis house, and shown me kindness in other ways, I found, after his\ndeath, had never been married to the person with whom he had lived as\nhis wife. I also found that he had another family in another part of the\ncity. I mention these unpleasant matters to show, that facts were not\nwanting to shake my faith in the moral influence of infidel principles.\nThe gentleman by whom I was employed, treated me with great respect and\nkindness, and some of my congregation did what they could to make me\ncomfortable; but the longer I remained in my position, the less\nencouragement I saw to expect infidelity or skepticism to produce a\nvirtuous and honorable life.\n\nThe gentleman by whom I was employed had thought of expending some fifty\nthousand dollars in building a hall, and endowing a lecture, &c., for\nthe propagation of infidel principles; but the conduct of the skeptics\nthat gathered round him, soon cured him of his anti-christian zeal.\n\n16. Before my term was quite expired, I was engaged by another gentleman\nfor eight months. But I had seen so much to shake my faith in the\nbeneficent tendency of infidelity, that this time I left myself free,\nboth to lecture on what subjects I thought best, and to leave my\nsituation on two months' notice. As my new engagement did not commence\nfor three months or more, I had the happiness of spending some time in\nthe bosom of my family. As usual, the influences to which I was subject\nthere were all calculated to abate my faith in irreligious principles,\nand to dispose me to look with less disfavor and prejudice on\nChristianity. In August I started again for Philadelphia. I left my\nfamily with sadness and tears, and I proceeded on my journey with a\nfeeling that it would not be long before my labors in Philadelphia would\ncome to an end. And the feeling grew stronger every week. The Hebrews\nhad a hard task when they were required to make bricks without straw;\nbut he who undertakes to make people good without religion, has to make\nbricks without clay--and that is a vast deal harder. I felt my position\nwas not the right one, and I longed and sighed for something more in\naccordance with my gradually changing views and better feelings; but\nknew not exactly what it was I needed, or where it was to be found. I\nfrequently attended the ministry of Dr. Furness, the Unitarian minister;\nand though his preaching was far from being all it should be, his\nsermons had a salutary effect on my mind. His words about God and duty,\nabout Christ and immortality, fell on my soul at times like refreshing\ndew. I also went to hear the Rev. Albert Barnes, and was both pleased\nand surprised with the truth and excellence of many of his remarks. I\nheard several other ministers; but the irrational and anti-christian\ndoctrines set forth by some of them, exerted an influence on my mind\nwhich was the opposite of salutary.\n\nAt the end of two months I gave notice to my committee that I should\ngive up my situation as lecturer. I had come to the conclusion, that to\nwar with Christianity was not the way to promote the virtue and\nhappiness of mankind, and I told my congregation so. I added, that if we\nwere even sure that the sentiments entertained by Christians were\nerroneous, it would be well to refrain from assailing them, till we had\nsomething better to put in their place. And I also advised them, now\nthey were about to be left without a lecturer, to go to some place of\nworship; and if they could not hear exactly what they could like, to\nmake the best of what they did hear, and by all means to live a\nvirtuous, honorable, and useful life. I gave similar advice to\ncongregations in other places, and by many it was well received.\n\nWhen I gave up my situation in Philadelphia, my intention was to return\nto England. I was anxious to free myself, as far as possible, from men\nof extreme views, whether in religion or politics, and to place myself\nin a position in which I should be perfectly free to pursue whatever\ncourse a regard to truth and duty might require. I made up my mind,\ntherefore, that on my arrival in England, I would stand alone, apart\nfrom all societies and public men, and have a paper of my own, and\npublish from time to time whatever might commend itself to my judgment\nas true and good. I knew I had changed during the last two years, though\nI did not know how much; and I believed I was changing, though I could\nnot tell in what the change which was taking place would end. I had no\nidea that I could ever become a Christian again, though the tendency of\nthe change which was taking place in me was in that direction.\n\nHaving taken leave of my friends, I hastened to Boston, and prepared for\nmy voyage across the deep. I was to sail by the Royal Mail Steamship\n_Canada_, on the eleventh of January, 1860. Just as I was stepping on\nboard the packet, I received a letter from my youngest son. Among a\nnumber of other kind things, it contained words like the following:\n\"Father, dear, when you get to England, don't dream that by any breath\nof yours, or by any paper balls that you can fire, you can ever shatter\nor shake the eternal foundations on which Christianity rests.\" Words\nlike those from a dear good son could not but have a powerful effect on\nmy mind.\n\nAnd now I started on my voyage. I had never ventured on the sea before\nwithout dread of shipwreck and drowning. This time I had no such fear.\nOn the contrary, as the vessel threaded her way among the rocks and\nislands of Boston Harbor, I experienced a strange and unaccountable\nelevation of soul. I had not felt so cheerful, so hopeful, so happy, for\nmany years. And this delightful joyousness of soul continued during the\nwhole of the voyage. Yet I had never gone to sea at so dangerous a\nseason. And I never encountered such fearful and long-continued storms.\nBefore we had fairly lost sight of the last point of land, the winds,\nwhich were already raging with unusual violence, began to blow more\nfuriously. They fell on us in the most fearful blasts, and roared around\nus in a deafening howl. The sea was thrown into the wildest uproar. The\nvessel was tossed and tumbled about in the most merciless manner. One\nmoment she was plunging head foremost into the deep; the next she was\nclimbing the most stupendous waves. Now her right wheel was vainly\nlaboring deep in the water, while her left was spinning uselessly in the\nair; then her right wheel was whirling in the air, while her left was\nsplurging in the deep. Sometimes the waves swept over the vessel, while\nat other times they would strike her so rudely on the side, that she\nstaggered through all her timbers. After the storm had raged for two or\nthree days, there came what are called white squalls. A light grey cloud\nappears in the distance, and as it approaches you, it sends forth\nlightnings, accompanied with hurried bursts of thunder. A furious storm\nof hail or snow immediately follows. The howl of the tempest rises to a\nyell, and the squall, as it sweeps along in its fury, cuts off the tops\nof the waves, and scatters them in foam over the surface of the deep\nlike a mantle of snow. The first of those squalls went right through our\nlarge square sail, tearing it to shreds. Another sent a wave on board\nwhich snapped in pieces stanchions of wrought iron thicker than my arms,\nand carried away one of our best boats. And this unspeakable uproar of\nthe elements continued for several days. At times I crept on deck for a\nfew moments, and, holding by the rigging, gazed on the wild magnificence\nof the appalling scene. And all this time my heart, instead of being\ntortured with its customary fears, was full of a cheerful joyous\nconfidence. It was as if some spirit of heaven had taken possession of\nmy soul to give me sweet presentiments of the approach of better days.\nAnd so perhaps it was. I was moving onwards, though I knew it not, to a\nhappier destiny, and the peace and joy I felt were as the dawn or\ntwilight of the coming day of my redemption.\n\nWe reached Liverpool at length, and I was soon at Betley, the native\nplace of my wife, which was to be my temporary home. And now, if I had\nfallen into good hands, or if the better thoughts and tendencies of my\nsoul had been sufficiently strong, I might have entered at once on a\nhappier course. But I encountered an unlooked-for difficulty. As I have\nsaid, my intention was, on landing in England, to begin a periodical,\nand to keep apart from persons of extravagant views. I was not a\nChristian, nor did I, at the time, suppose I should ever become one; but\nI was an earnest moralist, and I had become more moderate in my ideas\nboth on religious and political subjects. And I was, to some extent,\nprepared to receive fresh light. I had got an impression,--I had had it\nfor some time before I left America,--that my mind was not in a\nthoroughly healthy state,--that it was not exactly itself,--that it was\nso much biassed in favor of irreligion, that it was incapable of doing\njustice to arguments for a God and Providence, for a spiritual world and\na future life. I partly believed, and now I know, that facts and\narguments in favor of the great fundamental doctrines of religion, did\nnot affect and influence me so much as they ought,--that my doubts and\ndisbeliefs were stronger than facts or the nature of things warranted. I\nsuspected, what now I regard as past doubt, that erroneous principles,\nand a defective method of reasoning, and long practice in searching out\nflaws in arguments, and detecting and exposing errors and pious frauds,\nhad disposed me too strongly to distrust and disbelief,--that I was in\nfact a slave to bad habits of thought and reasoning, as really as the\ninveterate drunkard is the slave to his irrational appetite for strong\ndrink. What I should believe in case the freedom of my mind and the just\nand harmonious action of its powers were fully restored, I could not\ntell; but I had a strong impression, amounting to something like an\nassurance, that I should believe more than I did with respect to God and\na spiritual world. Had I, on arriving in England, found myself in\nfavorable circumstances, my mind might quickly have recovered its\nfreedom, and returned, in part at least, to the faith of its earlier\ndays. But this was not my lot. I was beset with new temptations, and was\ndoomed to further disappointments.\n\nThe Secularists had got out a prospectus of a new paper, and I was urged\nto become one of the editors; and thinking that it would seem mean and\nselfish to begin a paper of my own under such circumstances, I\nreluctantly consented. I however stipulated for full control over one\nhalf of the paper, and when I found that articles of a disgraceful and\nmischievous tendency were published in the other half, I published a\nspecial notice in mine, every week, that I was not answerable for those\narticles.\n\nIn August 1860 my wife and children arrived in England. They were sorry\nto find me in connection with that paper and with the party which it\nrepresented; and they set themselves at once to work to bring about a\nchange; and it was not long before they succeeded. A book, written by a\nleading Secularist, was sent to me for review. When I read it, I found\nthat its object was to undermine marriage and bring it into disrepute,\nand to induce men and women to abandon honorable wedlock, and to\nsubstitute for it unbounded sensual license. It was the filthiest, the\nmost horrible and revolting production I had ever read. This loathsome\nbook had already been advertised in the paper of which I was one of the\neditors, and in the part of the paper over which I had no control, it\nhad been strongly recommended. I found, too, that it had been very\nextensively circulated among the readers of the paper, and that the\nSecularist leaders were adopting measures to promote its still more\nextensive circulation. I at once exposed the villainous production in my\nportion of the paper. As far as a respect for decency would permit, I\nlaid its loathsome and horrible abominations before my readers. This led\nto an instant, a total, and final separation between me and the friends\nof the licentious book.\n\nI now commenced a Paper of my own, and I said to myself, and I said to\nmy children: \"I will now re-read the Bible; I will examine Christianity;\nI will review the history of the Church; I will examine the character\nand workings of the various religious organizations of the day; and\nwhatever I find in them that is true or good, I will lay before my\nreaders. I am not a Christian,\" said I; \"and I never expect to be one;\nbut I will do justice to the Christian cause to the best of my ability.\nI have said and written enough on the skeptical side: I will see what\nthere is to be said on the Christian side.\"\n\nI had no idea of the greatness of the task I was undertaking. I supposed\nthat ten or a dozen articles would be sufficient to set forth all that\nwas true and good in the Bible. But when I came to examine the Book,\nwith my somewhat altered views, and enlarged experience, and chastened\nfeelings, I found in it treasures of truth and goodness, of beauty and\nblessedness, of which, even in my better days, I seemed to have had but\na very inadequate conception. I was touched with a hundred precepts of\nmercy and tenderness in the laws of Moses. I was startled and delighted\nwith many Old Testament stories. The character of Job, as portrayed in\nthe twenty-ninth and thirty-first chapters of the book that goes under\nhis name, melted me to tears. I was delighted with the purity and\ntenderness, the beauty and sublimity of the Psalms. I was amazed at the\ndepth and vastness of the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs. I was pleased\nwith the stern fidelity with which the prophets rebuked the vices and\nthe crimes, the selfishness and cruelty, of the sinners of their days,\nand the tenderness and devotion with which they pleaded the cause of the\npoor, the fatherless, and the widow. When I came to the Gospels, and\nread again the wonderful story of the Man of Nazareth, my whole soul\ngave way. The beauty, the tenderness, the glory of His character\noverpowered me. I was ashamed, that I should ever have so fearfully\nmisconceived it, and done it such grievous injustice. The tears rolled\nfrom my eyes, moistening the book in which I was reading, and the paper\non which I was writing. But I proceeded with my task. I pondered every\nword He uttered, and was delighted with His glorious revelations of God,\nand truth, and duty. I gazed on all His wondrous works. I marked, I\nstudied, every trait in his character. I read the sad story of His\ntrials. I traced him through all His sufferings. I saw the indignities\nand cruelties to which He was subjected, and I saw the meekness, the\npatience, and the fortitude with which He suffered. I saw Him on the\ncross. I heard the prayer which He offered in the midst of His agonies\nin behalf of His murderers, 'Father, forgive them; they know not what\nthey do.' And still I read, and still I gazed, and still I listened. I\nwas entranced. I had thought to stand at a distance; to look at Jesus\nwith the eye of a philosopher and moralist only, and calmly and coolly\nto take His portrait; but I was overpowered. The strange, the touching\nsight drew me nearer. The loving one got hold of me. His infinite\ntenderness, His transcendent goodness, the glory of His whole character,\nand life, and doctrine took me captive; and I was no way loth to be held\nby such charms. He had won me entirely. I loved Him with all my heart\nand soul. I was His,--His disciple, His servant, entirely, and forever.\nAnd I wanted no other treasure but to share His love, and no other\nemployment but to share His work. I was, though but very imperfectly\nenlightened on many things, and exceedingly weak and imperfect in many\nrespects, most blessedly and indissolubly wedded to Christ and His\ncause.\n\nI drew the portrait of the Saviour to the best of my ability, and sent\nthe articles to the press. It fell to the lot of my children, in\ncorrecting the press, to read those articles. And when they read them,\nthey too wept, and one said to another, \"Father is coming right; he will\nbe himself again by and by.\" And they were right in thinking so. I had\ncome in contact with the Great Healer. I had got a sight of One on whom\nit is impossible to look steadfastly and long without experiencing a\nthorough transformation of soul. And so it was with me. From my first\nlook I became less and less of a skeptic, and more and more of a\nbeliever in Christianity, till my transformation was complete.\n\nThe more I read the Bible with my altered feelings and change of\npurpose, the more was I impressed with its transcendent worth, and the\nmore was I influenced by its renovating power. I saw that whatever might\nbe said with regard to particular portions of the Book, it was, as a\nwhole, the grandest revelation of truth and duty that the mind of man\ncould conceive. I could no longer find in my heart to talk or write\nabout what appeared to be its imperfections. There were passages that\nseemed dark or doubtful: there were some that seemed erroneous or\ncontradictory; but they amounted to nothing. They did not affect the\nscope, the drift, the aim, the tendency of the Book as a whole. They\nmight not be consistent with certain erroneous theories of inspiration,\nor with certain unguarded statements of extravagant theologians; but\nthey were consistent with the belief that the book, as a whole, was\nworthy of the Great Good being from whom it was said to have come, and\nadapted to the illumination and salvation of the race to which it had\nbeen given. Christianity began to present itself to my mind as the\ntruest philosophy; as the perfection of all wisdom and goodness. While\nit met man's spiritual wants, and cheered him with the promise of\neternal bliss, it was manifestly its tendency to promote his highest\ninterests even in the present world. As the clouds that had darkened my\nmind passed away, it become plain as the light, that if mankind could be\nbrought to receive its teachings, and to live in accordance with its\nprinciples, the world would become a paradise.\n\n2. I reviewed Church History. While under the influence of\nanti-Christian views and feelings, I had read the history of the Church\nand Christianity with a view to justify my unbelief, rather than with a\ndesire to know the simple truth. I had looked more for facts which could\nbe used to damage the Church, than for fair full views of things. My\nmind had dwelt particularly on the Church's quarrels, its divisions, its\nintolerance, and its wars;--on the favor which the clergy had sometimes\nshown to slavery and to despotism;--on their asceticisms, fanaticisms,\nand follies; and on cases of fraud, and selfishness, and impurity. I had\nread as an advocate retained to plead the cause of unbelief, rather than\nas a candid judge, or an unbiassed student, anxious to know and teach\nthe whole truth. I was not conscious of my unfairness at the time, but I\nnow began to see that I had been influenced by my irreligious passions\nand prejudices. I saw, on looking over my Guizot for instance, that I\nhad marked the passages which contained matters not creditable to the\nclergy, and passed unnoticed those portions of the work which set forth\nthe services which the Church and Christianity had rendered to\ncivilization. I also remembered how eagerly I had swallowed the unfair\nrepresentations and fallacious reasonings of Buckle with regard to\nChristianity and skepticism, and how impatiently I had hurried over what\nreviewers friendly to Christianity said on the other side of the\nsubject. The balance of my mind was at length restored. I now saw that\nChristianity had proved itself the friend of peace and freedom, of\nlearning and science, of trade and agriculture, of temperance and\npurity, of justice and charity, of domestic comfort and national\nprosperity. The history of Christianity was the history of our superior\nlaws, of our improved manners, of our beneficent institutions, of our\nschools of learning, of our boundless wealth, of our constitutional\ngovernments, of our unequalled literature, of our world-wide influence,\nof our domestic happiness, and of all that goes to make up our highest\nforms of civilization. Imperfectly as it had been understood, and\ndefectively as it had been reduced to practice, Christianity had placed\nthe nations of Europe at the head of the human race. Christian nations\nwere the most enlightened and virtuous, the most prosperous and\npowerful, the most free and happy of all the nations of the earth. The\npious frauds, the intolerance and persecutions, the oppressions and\nwrongs, the selfishness and sin, which were found in the history of the\nChurch, were not the effects of Christianity, but the effects of\npassions and principles directly opposed to its spirit and teachings.\n\n3. I looked at the Churches of the day. I found them all at work for the\neducation of the young, and for the instruction and salvation of the\nworld. I saw them building schools and chapels, and supplying them with\nteachers and preachers. I saw them printing books, and tracts, and\nBibles, and spreading them abroad in all directions. I saw them founding\nlibraries and reading-rooms, and young men's Christian associations, and\nladies' sewing societies. I saw them sending out missionaries abroad,\nand carrying on a multitude of beneficent operations at home. I asked\nfor the schools and libraries, the books and periodicals, the halls of\nscience and the missionary operations of the enemies of Christianity;\nbut they were nowhere to be found. They _talked_ about education, but\ninstructed no one. They talked about science, but did nothing for its\nspread or its advancement. They abused Christians for neglecting men's\ntemporal interests, but did nothing to promote men's earthly happiness\nthemselves. They found fault with Sunday-schools, and talked of the\nfaults of Christians, but never corrected their own. They talked of\nliberty, and practised tyranny. They complained of intolerance, yet\nfollowed such as renounced their society, or questioned their views,\nwith the bitterest reproaches, and the most heartless persecution. They\ntalked of reform, but sowed the seeds of rebellion, anarchy, and\nunbounded licentiousness.\n\nThe Christians had the advantage over their adversaries even in outward\nappearance. They were cleaner and better clad, and were more orderly in\ntheir deportment. There was quite a contrast between the crowds of\nChristians that passed along the streets to their places of worship, and\nthe knots of Godless, Christless men who strolled along, or sat in their\ndoors, in their dirty clothes, with their unwashed faces, smoking their\npipes, or reading their filthy papers. There was a contrast between\nChristian congregations and infidel meetings. One had the appearance of\npurity and elevation; while the other had the stamp of pollution and\ndegradation. Irreligion seemed the nurse of coarseness and barbarism.\nSome of the secularists actually argued against civilization, as\nRousseau had done before them. One of them reprinted Burke's ironical\nwork in favor of the savage state, and sent it to me for review, and was\ngreatly offended because I refused to recommend it as a sober, serious,\nphilosophical treatise to my readers.\n\nIt was plain that there was something wrong in infidelity; that its\ntendency was to vice and depravity; while Christianity, whether it was\ndivine in its origin or not, was evidently the friend and benefactor of\nour race.\n\nIn 1862, some friends of mine at Burnley, who had built a public hall\nthere, engaged me as their lecturer. The parties were unbelievers, but\nthey were opposed to the advocates of unbounded license. They were\nfavorable to morality, and wished to have an association that should\nembody what they thought good in the Church, without being decidedly\nreligious. They wished to have music and singing at the Sunday meetings,\nand to limit public discussion to the week-night meetings. They also\nwished to have Sunday-schools, day-schools, reading-rooms, and\nlibraries. We had come to the conclusion that the Christians were right\non the whole in their way of conducting their public meetings, and we\nwere resolved to imitate them as far as we honestly could. And here I\nlived and labored for more than a year. We did not succeed however so\nwell as we had expected. Our singers, and musicians, and Sunday-school\nteachers had no high and powerful motive to keep them regularly at their\nposts, so that whenever a strong temptation came to lure them away, they\nran from their tasks, and left me and another or two to toil alone. We\nthen formed a Church, and made laws, thinking to keep our associates to\ntheir duty in that way. But this made matters worse. Their fancies and\npleasures were their laws, and they would obey no other. Most of our\nteachers left, and I and a friend or two had to teach the school\nourselves. My friends established a day-school, and hired a teacher; but\nhe turned out to be an unbounded license man; he brought with him, in\nfact, an unmarried woman instead of his wife, and they found it\nnecessary to get rid of him as soon as they could.\n\nAll the time I was at Burnley my heart first, and then my head, were\ncoming nearer and nearer to Christ and Christianity. I gradually gave up\nmy opposition both to religion and to the churches. The last lecture in\nwhich I gave utterance to anything unfavorable to the Bible was one on\nNoah's flood. I spoke on the subject by request, and against my\ninclination, and before I had got half through I began to feel\nunutterably dissatisfied with myself. I was really unhappy. From that\ntime forward I dwelt chiefly on moral subjects, and often took occasion\nto speak favorably of the Bible and Christianity. I tried to explain\nwhat was dark, and to set forth what was manifestly true and good in\ntheir teachings.\n\nI lectured on the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs, on the beauty of\nChrist's character, and on the excellency of many of His doctrines, on\nthe advantages of faith in Christ, and on the follies and vices of\ninfidel secularism, and on quite a number of other Christian subjects.\n\nMy younger son came to reside at Burnley while I was there, and we had\nfrequent talks as we walked together along the fields and lanes, and\nover the neighboring hills; and this also helped to bring me nearer to\nChrist and His Church. I read the works of Epictetus at this time, and\nmy faith in God and immortality, and my love of virtue too, were\nstrengthened by his reasonings.\n\nAbout the same time a person wrote to me to go and lecture at Goole. I\nwent. No subject had been named to me, and I resolved to speak in favor\nof the leading practical principles of Christianity. When I got to\nGoole, I found that the man who had invited me had put up a bill,\ncalling on his neighbors and fellow-townsmen to come and hear the\ntriumphant opponent of Christianity demolish their religion. I told him\nhe should not have put forth a bill like that,--that I was not an\nopponent of Christianity,--that I was not an enemy of the\nchurches,--that I had no desire to demolish religion,--that I wished to\nbring people to cherish and practise the leading principles of\nChristianity. This rather puzzled and distressed him; but\nnotwithstanding his disappointment, he would have me lecture. The\nmeeting was out of doors. I soon had a large audience. I quickly\nundeceived such as had come expecting to hear me vilify the Bible, the\nchurches, or religion. I spoke in the highest terms of Christ and His\nteachings. I showed that many of them were the perfection of wisdom and\ngoodness. I spoke of the causes of human wretchedness, and showed that\nobedience to the teachings of Christ and His Apostles would remove them\nall. Many things that I said, and especially some remarks I made on\ndomestic duties and domestic happiness, went home to the hearts of my\nhearers. Not a murmur was heard from any quarter. Men nudged each other,\nand women looked in each others' faces, and all gave signs that they\nfelt the truth of my remarks, and the wisdom of my counsels, and the\nmeeting ended as satisfactorily as could be desired.\n\nIt was while I was living at Burnley that I began again to pray. A young\natheist died, and I was invited to his funeral, and requested to speak\nat his grave. When we got to the cemetery the little chapel was occupied\nby another company, and we had to wait some time for our turn. My mind\nwas in a sad and solemn mood, and I left my party and wandered to the\nfarther end of the cemetery. It was a bright and beautiful day in April.\nThe grass was springing fresh and green, and the hawthorn buds were\nopening, and everything seemed full of life, and big with promise. The\nsun was shining in all his glory. The thrushes and the blackbirds were\nsinging in the surrounding groves and thickets, and the larks were\npouring forth their melody in the air. Yet all was dark and sorrowful\nwithin. I felt the misery of unbelief, yet felt myself unable to free\nmyself from its horrible and tormenting power. I had a growing\nconviction that I was the slave of a vicious method of reasoning, and of\nan inveterate habit of unreasonable or excessive doubt, and that I had\nnot the power to do God and Christianity justice. I felt as if I ought\nto pray, but something whispered, \"It is irrational.\" No matter, I could\nrefrain no longer: and lifting up my tearful eyes to heaven I exclaimed,\n\"God help me.\" He did help me. He strengthened my struggling soul from\nthat hour, and gave to the good within me a growing power over the evil.\nI dried my tears and returned to my party. I spoke at the poor young\nAtheist's grave, and concluded my address with the following prayer,\n\"May trust in God, and the hope of a better life, and the love of truth\nand virtue, and delight in doing good, remain with all who have them,\nand come to all who have them not. Amen.\"\n\nThe gentleman with whom I had lived at Burnley had said to me on the\nmorning of that very day, that if I prayed at the funeral he should\nnever think well of me more. He afterwards said, when he heard of the\nprayer I had offered, he had no objection to a prayer like that. He was\nnot aware of the shorter prayer that I had offered when alone, or he\nwould have spoken probably in another strain. He was dreadfully opposed\nto religion, and very uneasy when he saw me moving in the direction of\nChristianity.\n\nAmong the friends who left the church on account of my expulsion, was\nSamuel Methley, of Mirfield, near Huddersfield. He was rather eccentric\nin some respects; but he was an honest, earnest, kind, and Christian\nman. He had had little or no school instruction, and he had nothing that\ncould be called learning, or high intellectual culture; but he was a man\nof great faith, of much love, and much prayer. His affection and\nreverence for me were almost unbounded, and so long as I continued a\nbeliever in Christ, he was ready to go with me any lengths in\nEvangelical reform. When I ran into politics he was somewhat staggered,\nbut followed me as far as he durst. When I began to be skeptical he\nstood still, afraid, and very unhappy. On one occasion he ventured to\nrebuke me; but I knew that the rebuke was the offspring of affection,\nand I took it quietly. When I went to America he was greatly distressed,\nand prayed for me most anxiously and earnestly. When he found I had\nbecome an unbeliever, he resolved never to go near a meeting of mine\nagain, and prayed to God to help him to keep his resolution. For many\nyears he tried to wean himself from me, to extinguish his passionate\nregard for me; but whenever he found that I was to lecture in his\nneighborhood, he lost his self-control, and came, though with\nreluctance, and many misgivings, to my meetings. He generally rose after\nmy lectures, to protest against my extravagances, and to testify his\nuncontrollable affection for me, and his anxious desire for my\nsalvation. To do otherwise than take his remarks in good part was\nimpossible. Poor, dear, good man! I little thought at the time how much\ndistress and pain I was causing him. When he found that I was coming\nback to Christ, he was joyful beyond measure. When he heard me preach on\ntrue religion, he was in transports. At a meeting that followed, he\nspoke with so much feeling and fervor, that I was obliged to try to\ncheck him a little, for fear the violence of his excitement should\ninjure his feeble and failing health. My conversion, though but partial\nthen, gave him the utmost delight.\n\nAt length his feeble frame gave way, and he sank into his bed to rise no\nmore. He sent me word that he was very desirous to see me, and I visited\nhim without delay. He was very ill. His voice was almost gone, and he\nspoke with great difficulty. He told me he wished me, when he was gone,\nto preach his funeral sermon, and write his epitaph, and take charge of\na manuscript containing the story of his life. I told him I would do so.\nHe then spoke of his trust in God, his love of Christ, and his hopes of\na blessed immortality, while tears of joy stood glistening in his eyes.\nHe then referred to some matters that had tried him sadly, but added: \"I\nhave cast my care on God.\" He tried to speak of his feelings towards me,\nbut said: \"Those papers (referring to the story of his life) will tell\nyou all.\" At last he said: \"Pray with me, Joseph.\" I had not prayed with\nany one for many years, but I said at once: \"I will, Sammy;\" and I fell\non my knees, and prayed by his side. He then, weak as he was, prayed\nearnestly for me, and for my wife and family.\n\nHe died a few weeks after. I preached his funeral sermon on the\nfollowing Sunday, in May, 1863, in a field near the house in which he\nhad lived and died, from the text: \"Let me die the death of the\nrighteous, and let my last end be like his.\" There was an immense\ncongregation, consisting of people of all denominations, both infidel\nand Christian, from every part of the surrounding district. When\nspeaking of his conduct in clinging to the religion of Christ, instead\nof following me into the regions of doubt and unbelief, I declared my\nconviction that he had done right. \"He had read little,\" said I, \"and I\nhad read much: yet he was the wiser man of the two. His good religious\ninstincts and feelings kept him right, and kept him happy in the warmth\nand sunlight of the religion of Christ; while my vain reasonings carried\nme astray into the dark and chilling regions of eternal cold and utter\ndesolation. There is a seeming wisdom that is foolishness; and there is\na childlike, artless simplicity of faith, which, while it is regarded as\nfoolishness by many, is in truth the perfection of wisdom. There are\nthings which are hid from the wise and prudent, that are revealed to\nbabes. And Jesus was right, when, addressing the self-conceited\nskeptical critics of His day, He said: 'Except ye be converted and\nbecome as little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.' My\ndear departed friend, when trusting in God as his Father, and in Christ\nas his Saviour, and living a godly life, was right, while I, in\ndistrusting the promptings of my religious instincts and affections, and\ncommitting myself to the reasonings of a cold and heartless logic, was\nwrong. The new-born babe, that rests untroubled in its mother's arms,\nand, without misgiving, sucks from her breast the milk so wonderfully\nprovided for it, does the best and wisest thing conceivable. In obeying\nits instincts, it obeys the great good Author of its being, and lives.\nIf--to suppose what is happily an impossibility--if the child should\ndiscard its instincts, and refuse to trust its mother, till it had\nlogical proof of her trustworthiness; and, distrusting its natural\ncravings, should refuse to take the nutriment provided for it, till it\ncould ascertain by chemical analysis and physiological investigation,\nthat it was just the kind of food which it required, it would die. My\ndeparted friend was the happy, confiding child, and saved his soul\nalive; while I was the analytical and logical doubter, and all but\nstarved my miserable soul to death. Thank God, I have lived to see my\nerror. The loving, trusting Christian is right. The religion of Jesus is\nsubstantially true and divine; and, thus far, I declare myself a\nChristian.\"\n\nIt was a beautiful, summer-like day. The sun shone brightly, and the\nwinds were low, and the vast congregation was orderly and attentive, and\nmany were much affected. The report that I had declared myself a\nChristian, without any qualification annexed, got into the papers, and\nran through the country. To many it gave the greatest satisfaction.\nGood, kind Christians came round me wherever I went, testifying their\ndelight and gratitude. Some wept for joy. Unbelievers were greatly\nannoyed at the tidings of my conversion, and some of them came and\nentreated me to give the report a public contradiction. This I refused\nto do. True, the papers said somewhat more than I had said; but the\nstatement they gave was true in substance, so I let it pass, and the\ngrowing change for the better in my views and feelings soon made it true\nin form.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nPARTIES WHO CONTRIBUTED TOWARDS MY RETURN TO CHRIST.\n\n\nAfter I fell into doubt and unbelief, the Church, and the ministry\ngenerally, appeared to look on me as irretrievably lost. The great mass\nof them made no attempt for my recovery. How much they cared for my soul\nI do not know; but for nearly twenty years they left me to wander as a\nsheep that had no shepherd. Many of them spoke against me, and wrote\nagainst me, and some of them even met me in public discussion; but they\nnever approached me in the spirit of gentleness and love, to try to win\nme back to Christ, and bring me once more into His Church. Some of them\ntreated me with grievous injustice. As I have said some pages back, one\nminister made himself most odious to me and my friends, and did\nsomething towards increasing our antipathy to the religion which he so\ngrossly dishonored, by his unjust and hateful doings. It is bad for\nChristianity when men like these are put forward as its advocates. No\nopen enemies can do it so much injury as such unworthy friends.\n\nThere were others, however, who took a more Christian course, and if\nthey did not succeed in at once reclaiming me from my melancholy\ndelusions, they produced a happy effect on my mind, which helped to\nbring about, in the end, my return to the Christian faith.\n\n1. There was one man, a minister, who, though he wrote against some of\nmy views, always treated me with respect. He never gave me offensive\nnames, nor charged me with unworthy motives, nor treated me with\naffected contempt. He regarded me simply as an erring brother, and\nstrove, with genuine Christian affection, to bring me back to what he\nregarded as the truth. He died before my restoration to the Church, but\nhis labors on my behalf were not in vain.\n\n2. A kind-hearted layman once sent me a book--\"_The Philosophy of the\nPlan of Salvation_,\"--accompanied with a short, but affectionate letter.\nThe book did not convert me, but the kindness of the friend that sent it\nhad a happy effect. Though beyond the reach of logic, I was within the\nreach of love.\n\n3. The _Author_ of \"_The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation_\" was Mr.\nWalker, a minister of Mansfield, Ohio. While in America I gave a course\nof lectures in that town on the Bible. The friend at whose house I was\nstaying took me to see Mr. Walker, who received me with great kindness,\ninvited me to dine with him, and conversed with me in a truly Christian\nmanner. He even came to one of my lectures, in hopes of helping me over\nthe difficulties which blocked my way to the faith of Christ. I did not,\nhowever, treat him with the kind and considerate tenderness with which\nhe had treated me. I was under unhappy influences, and I spoke on the\nBible in such a manner as to try him past endurance, and he left me that\nnight with very painful feelings, regarding me, probably, as lost past\nhope. Should he read this work, it may give him satisfaction to know,\nthat his kindness, and his work on Christ as a revelation of the Eternal\nFather, had a part in helping me back to the religion of Christ.\n\n4. Five years ago last December, Mr. John Mawson, Sheriff of\nNewcastle-on-Tyne, was killed on the Town Moor by a terrible explosion\nof nitro-glycerine. I had been acquainted with him more than\nfive-and-twenty years. He joined the church at Newcastle, of which I was\na minister, and remained my friend to the last. He had his doubts on\ncertain points of theology, but he never lost his faith in the great\nprinciples of Christianity. When I was over from America once, I spent\nsome time in his company, and we had frequent conversations on religion.\n\"It seems to me,\" said he, \"that we ought to put some trust in our\n_hearts_. My head has often tempted me to doubt; but my heart has always\nclung to God and immortality. It does so still; and I believe it is\nright. Indeed, I have no doubt of it.\" I remembered his words. They led\nme to study the moral and spiritual instincts of my nature more\nthoroughly than I had done before. They led me to study the subject of\ninstinct and natural affection generally. _My_ instincts, like the\ninstincts of my friend, had always clung to God and a future life, and\nto the principles of religion and virtue, even when reason hesitated and\ndoubted most. I had never given up my belief in any of the great\ndoctrines of Christianity without a painful struggle. But I had been led\nto think it my duty, when there was a conflict between my head and my\nheart, to take part with my head. My heart, for instance, would say,\n\"Pray;\" but reason, or something in the garb of reason, would say,\n\"Don't. If what you desire is good, God will give it you, whether you\npray for it or not; and if it be evil, He will withhold it, pray as you\nmay. Prayer may move a man like yourself; but it cannot move God.\" And I\nhearkened to the seeming reason, and gave up prayer. My heart said,\n\"There is a personal, conscious, all-perfect God.\" My head, or my\ninfidel philosophy said, \"There cannot be such a God. A God all-powerful\ncould prevent evil. A God all-good _would_ prevent it. God cannot\ntherefore be a conscious, personal, all-perfect being. He must be a\nblind, unconscious power; the sum total of natural tendencies, working\naccording to the eternal properties of things, without the possibility\nof change; and hence the existence of evil, and the prevalence of\neternal, unalterable law.\" And here again my head was permitted to\nprevail, and my heart, in spite of all its remonstrances, was compelled\nto give way. And with a personal, conscious, all-perfect God, went the\nrichest treasures of the human heart,--trust in a Fatherly Providence;\nthe hope of a blessed immortality, and faith in the ultimate triumph of\ntruth and justice, and all assurance of human progress and a good time\ncoming.\n\nYet I was obliged, in spite of the false philosophical principle I had\nadopted, to accept the oracles of my heart on many points, and to reject\nthe logic of my head. My heart said, \"Speak the truth; to lie is wrong.\"\nBut now that it had got rid of a personal God, logic said, \"There can be\nnothing wrong in a lie that hurts no one. There is something commendable\nin a useful, serviceable lie. To lie to save a person from danger or\ndestruction is a virtue. The feeling which shrinks from such a lie is a\nblind, irrational prejudice, and should be plucked up and cast out of\nthe soul. Truth may be proper enough in the _strong_: but _deceit_ is\nthe wisdom of the _weak_.\" But in this case my heart, my instinctive\nlove of truth, prevailed.\n\nAgain, my heart pleaded for justice and mercy; for _justice_ to all; and\nfor _mercy_ to the needy and helpless. But reason, or the heartless and\ngodless philosophy that usurped its name, said, \"Utility is the supreme\nlaw; the only law of man. Justice and mercy are right when they are\nuseful; but when they are hurtful they are right no longer. If by\ndestroying the helpless and the needy we can deliver them from their\nmisery, and increase the happiness of the rest of our race, their\ndestruction is a virtue, especially if we dispose of them in a quiet and\npainless way, so as to spare them the fears and agonies of death!\" But\nhere again my heart prevailed. My natural, unreasoning, instinctive\nhorror of injustice and murder rendered the specious pleadings of\nAtheistic utilitarianism powerless. And so on moral matters generally.\n\nAs a rule, Atheists succeed, in course of time, in vanquishing and\ndestroying their moral as well as their religious instincts, and then\nthey embrace the most revolting doctrines, and reconcile themselves to\nthe most appalling deeds. They look on marriage as irrational, and\nregard modesty and chastity as vices. Shame is a weakness in their eyes,\nand natural affections are irrational prejudices. Scruples against\nlying, theft and murder, when any great good is to be gained by those\npractices, are insanity. Gratitude, even to parents, is an absurdity.\nFree indulgence, unlimited license, is a virtue. The curse of our race\nis religion. The one great social evil is a surplus population; and the\nprevention or destruction of children is the sum of social science and\nvirtue. The extinction of the weaker races, and the destruction of those\nof every race who cannot contribute their share of wealth and pleasure\nto the common stock, is the perfection of philosophy. In short, all the\nold-fashioned principles of virtue, honor, conscience, generosity,\nself-restraint, self-sacrifice, and natural affection are exploded, and\nin their place there comes a black and hideous chaos of all indecencies\nand immoralities, a boundless and bottomless abyss of all imaginable\nand unspeakable horrors. I shudder when I think how near I came to this\nhell of atheistical philosophy. My inability entirely to extinguish my\nbetter instincts and affections, prevented me from plunging headlong\ninto its frightful depths. It was more than I could do to carry out the\natheistical principles of mere theoretical reasoning to its last\nresults. I was, thank God, on some points, always inconsistent, and my\ninconsistency was my salvation. My heart preserved me in spite of my\nhead.\n\nBut if I could not carry out my principle of trusting to mere reasoning\nto its full extent, why did I act on it at all? When I found that it led\nto utter degradation and ruin, why did I not renounce it, and trust once\nmore in my native instincts? When I found myself obliged to follow my\nheart in so many matters, why not follow it in all? I answer, I had not\na sufficient understanding of the matter. I wanted more light. But the\ncourse of study on which the remarks of my dear good friend Mr. Mawson\nled me to enter, led to clearer and correcter views on the subject. It\nled to the conviction that instinct and natural affection are divine\ninspirations,--that the beliefs and practices to which they constrain us\nare the perfection of wisdom and goodness,--that to set them aside is\ninevitable ruin,--that whenever reason says one thing, and our religious\nand moral affections and instincts say another, we ought to turn a deaf\near to reason, and follow implicitly the dictates of our moral and\nreligious faculties. And to this conviction, resulting in a great\nmeasure from the remarks of my faithful and devoted friend, I owe, in\npart, my present unspeakable happiness as a believer in Christ.\n\n5. I encountered two Christian men in public discussion who left a\nfavorable impression on my mind. One was the Rev. Andrew Loose, of\nWinchester, Indiana. The subject of discussion between me and Mr. Loose\nwas the divine authority of the Bible. He went through the whole debate,\nwhich lasted several days, without uttering one uncharitable, scornful,\nor angry word, with the exception of a single phrase in his last speech;\nand even that he meekly and generously recalled, after I had satisfied\nhim of its impropriety. I never forgot the conduct of that dear good\nman, and his Christian meekness and forbearance had a good effect on my\nheart.\n\n6. The other gentleman whose conduct left the most favorable impression\nof all on my mind, was Colonel Shaw, of Bourtree Park, Ayr, Scotland, of\nwhose gentlemanly behavior and great Christian kindness I have already\nspoken.\n\n7. There were some other persons who, without assailing me with\nargument, did me considerable good. After lecturing at Burnley once, a\nperson rose to oppose me, and a great disturbance followed. I was thrown\nfrom the platform, and fell backward on the floor, and a crowd of\npersons fell upon me, and I had a narrow escape from death by violence\nand suffocation. I was rescued however alive. In the tumult my overcoat,\nmy hat, and my watch disappeared, and my body was somewhat bruised. Next\nday a gentleman who had heard of the way in which I had been treated,\ncame to my lodgings to see me. He seemed very much distressed on my\naccount, and anxious, if possible, to do something which might minister\ncomfort to my mind. His name was Philips. He was a Methodist, and the\nson of a Methodist preacher. His kindness and sympathy were so genuine\nand so earnest, that they made a deep impression on my mind, and they\nnaturally recur to my memory when I think of the friends whose influence\nhelped to reclaim me from the miseries of doubt and unbelief.\n\n8. About thirteen years ago I lectured at Bacup. The Rev. T. Lawson,\nCongregational minister of Bacup, attended my lectures, and came and\nspoke to me afterwards, and invited me to call and see him, and dine\nwith him. I went, and we had a lengthened conversation on matters\npertaining to religion and the Church. My host exhibited a remarkable\namount of Christian charity and true liberality of sentiment. He had\nbeen a reader of mine in his earlier days, when I was an advocate of\nEvangelical reform, and he spoke of himself as my debtor; and he was\ndesirous, if possible, of repaying the debt, by smoothing the way for my\nreturn to Christianity. Mrs. Lawson sat and listened to our conversation\nin silence; but when I rose to take my leave, she bade me good-bye with\nmost unmistakable evidences of interest in my welfare, and said, as she\nheld me by the hand, \"I hope we shall meet you in heaven.\" I had one or\ntwo other interviews with Mr. Lawson at a somewhat later period, and all\nare to be placed among the means by which I was brought to my present\nhappy position.\n\n9. Some nineteen years ago I had a public discussion with the Rev.\nCharles Williams, Baptist minister, of Accrington. It was a very\nunpleasant affair. I was much exhausted at the time with over much work,\nand with long-continued and painful excitement caused by a very\nunpleasant piece of business which I had in hand; and I did what I\nhonorably could to avoid the discussion. My friends, however, would have\nno nay, and I reluctantly, and in anything but an amiable temper, made\nmy appearance at the time appointed on the platform. How far the blame\nwas chargeable on me, or how far it was chargeable on others, I do not\nknow; but the first night's meeting was a very disagreeable one. I\nthought myself in the right at the time, but I fancy my unhappy state of\nmind must have rendered me very provoking, and at the same time blinded\nme to the real character of my proceedings. On the following night the\ndiscussion went on more smoothly, and it ended better than it began. I\nwas constrained to regard Mr. Williams as an able and good man. I met\nhim occasionally after my separation from the Secularists, and his\nbehaviour and spirit deepened the favorable impression of his character\nalready made on my mind. While I was at Burnley he delivered a lecture\nin that town on Bishop Colenso's work on the Pentateuch. I was present.\nWhen he had done, he invited me in the kindest way imaginable to speak.\nI had heard next to nothing in the lecture to which I could object, but\nmuch that I could heartily approve and applaud. To all that he had said\nin praise of the Bible I could subscribe most heartily. Indeed I felt\nthat the Bible was worthy of more and higher praise than he had bestowed\non it, and I expressed myself to that effect. The meeting altogether was\na very pleasant one, except to a number of unbelievers, who were\ndreadfully vexed at my remarks in commendation of the Bible. I saw Mr.\nWilliams repeatedly afterwards, and his kind and interesting\nconversation, and his very gentlemanly and Christian demeanor, had\nalways a beneficial effect on my mind.\n\n10. One of the first to express a conviction that I should become a\nChristian was an American lady, whom I sometimes saw in London. She had\nherself been an unbeliever, but had been cured of her skepticism by\nspiritualism. She was then a Catholic. She gave me a medal of the Virgin\nMary, and entreated me to wear it round my neck. To please her I\npromised to do so. But the medal disappeared before long, and what\nbecame of it I never could tell; but my friend had the satisfaction to\nsee her prophecy fulfilled in my happy return to Christianity.\n\n11. An acquaintance which I formed with the Rev. W. Newton, of\nNewcastle-on-Tyne, must also be reckoned among the things which exerted\nan influence on my mind favorable to Christianity. Mr. Newton had been a\nBaptist in his earlier days, but getting into perplexity with regard to\ncertain doctrines, he became a Unitarian. He came to feel however, in\ncourse of time, that something more than Unitarianism was necessary to\nthe satisfaction of his soul, and to the salvation of the world; and at\nthe time that I became acquainted with him, he had made up his mind to\nleave the Unitarians. On my way to the far-off regions of unbelief, I\nhad passed through the Unitarian territory; and I passed through the\nsame territory, or near to its border, on my return to Christianity; and\nhad it not been for my interviews with Mr. Newton, and a somewhat\nstartling event or two that occurred about that period, I might have\nlingered for a time in that cold and hungry land. Mr. Newton helped to\nquicken my steps, and I moved onward, and rested not, till I found my\nway back to the paradise, or a garden that very much resembled the\nparadise, of my earlier days.\n\n12. Mr. J. Potts, like Mr. J. Mawson, without following me into the\nextremes of doubt, retained his friendship for me through all my\nwanderings, and never neglected any opportunity he had of showing me\nkindness. And others, whom I cannot take the liberty to name, evinced\nthe same unfailing constancy of esteem and love. And the unbroken\nconnexion that remained between my enduring friends and their amiable\nfamilies and myself, added to the attractions Christ-ward, and made it\neasier for my soul to return at last to its home of peace and rest.\n\n13. Between thirteen and fourteen years ago, while living in London, I\nbecame acquainted with Mr. W. White. He had been reared a Quaker, but,\nlike most hard thinkers, had had experience of doubt, and was, in\nconsequence, after his faith was re-established, able to strengthen his\ndoubting brethren. He contributed to my conversion, first by his\nenlightened conversation, and then by a long, kind, Christian letter on\nthe Bible, by which he helped me over a number of difficulties which\nstood in the way of my faith.\n\n14. But perhaps none of the parties I have named, had a more powerful\nand beneficial effect on my mind than one whom I have not yet mentioned.\nIf I had been asked thirteen years ago, whether I supposed there was any\nminister in the Methodist New Connexion who regarded me with\naffectionate solicitude, and who was wishful for an opportunity to speak\nto me words of love and tenderness, I should have answered, \"No.\" If any\none had told me that there really was one of my old associates, with\nwhom I had formerly had warm controversy, not only on matters\ntheological, but on matters personal, who had been watching my career\nfor years, with the deepest interest, and who for months and years had\nbeen earnestly praying for me every day, he would have seemed to me as\none amusing himself with fables. Yet such was really the case.\n\nWith no one had I come in closer contact perhaps, or in more frequent\nand violent collision, than with the Rev. W. Cooke, now Dr. Cooke. He\nhad taken the lead in the proceedings against me in the Ashton\nConference, on account of my article on _Toleration, Human Creeds, &c._,\nproceedings which had a most unhappy effect on my mind, and which led,\nat length, to my separation from the Church, and to my alienation from\nChrist. He had taken an active part in the violent controversies which\nfollowed my expulsion from the ministry. We had, at a later period,\nspent ten nights in public discussion on the leading doctrines of\nChristianity. He had, in the performance of what he considered his duty\nI suppose in my case, said things which had tried me terribly; and I,\nwith ideas of duty differing from his, had made him very liberal\nreturns, in a way not calculated to leave the most favorable or\ncomfortable impressions on his mind towards me. I had never seen him\nsince our long discussion but once, and then he seemed, to my fancy, to\nbe struggling with an inward tempest of very unhappy feeling towards me,\nwhich he was hardly able to keep from exploding. I afterwards found\nthough, that I had not interpreted his looks on this occasion correctly.\nAt the time when I took my leave of the Secularists, my unpleasant\nfeelings towards my old opponent had about subsided; but I had no idea\nthat his unpleasant feelings towards me had passed away. Yet such was\nthe case. He had been reading my periodical for some time, and had been\npleased to find that both on religion and politics, I was returning,\nthough slowly, to the views of my happier days. Some time in August,\n1862, he called at my office in London, with a parcel of books under his\narm. He had been praying for me daily for twelve months, when something\nseemed to say to him, \"You should do something more than pray.\" And now\nhe had come to try what he could do by a personal interview to aid the\nwanderer's return to Christ. I was from home at the time, but my eldest\nson was in the office, and he and the Doctor were at once engaged in\nfriendly conversation. \"How like you are to what your father was four\nand thirty years ago, when I first knew him,\" said the Doctor. \"Your\nfather and I were great friends. It was your father that first directed\nme to the study of Latin and Greek, which have been of great service to\nme; and I feel indebted to him on that account. We were afterwards\nseparated. But I have observed, as I think, symptoms that your father is\nreturning towards his former views.\" And many other kind remarks he\nmade. At length he said, \"Do you think your father would accept a copy\nof my works?\" My son, who knew the state of his father's mind, answered;\n\"I am sure he would, with great pleasure.\" The Doctor left copies of his\nworks, kindly inscribed to me with his own hand; and with the books, he\nleft for me a kind and Christian letter. My son lost no time in\nforwarding me the letter, together with an account of the pleasant and\nunlooked-for interview which he had had with the writer. I received the\nletter, and the interesting story with which it was accompanied, with\nthe greatest astonishment and pleasure. I wrote to the Doctor,\nreciprocating his expressions of kindness, and making the best returns I\ncould for the valuable present of his works. The result was a\ncorrespondence, which has continued to the present time. The\ncorrespondence led to interviews, in which the Doctor exhibited, in a\nvery striking manner, the graces and virtues that adorn the Christian\ncharacter. We talked, we read, we sang, we prayed together, and gave God\nthanks, with tears of gratitude, for all the blessings of His boundless\nlove.\n\nThe effect of this kindness on the part of Dr. Cooke was, not only to\nfree my mind from any remains of hurtful feelings towards him, but to\ndispose me, and enable me, to review the claims of Christianity and the\nBible in a spirit of greater fairness and candor, and so to make it\npossible for me to become, what I had long believed I never could\nbecome, a hearty believer in the religion of Christ.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nSOME OF THE STEPS BY WHICH I CAME TO FAITH IN CHRIST.\n\n\nI am not certain that I can state the exact process by which I passed\nfrom doubt and unbelief to faith in Christ, but the following, I\nbelieve, is very near the truth.\n\n1. There was, first, a sense of the cheerlessness of unbelief--the\nsadness and the sorrow resulting from the loss of trust in God and hope\nof immortality, and from the wretched prospect of a return to utter\nnothingness.\n\n2. Then came the distressing feeling of inability to comfort my\nafflicted or dying friends--my utter helplessness in the presence of\nsorrow, grief and agony.\n\n3. And then I found myself unable to account for the wonderful marks of\ndesign appearing in nature, and especially in my own body, without the\nacknowledgment of an intelligent Deity. The wonderful perfection and\nbeauty of a flower or a feather would confound me; while mysterious\nadaptations in my own frame would fill me with amazement. Darwin's\ntheory of development relieved me for a time; but I soon came to see\nthat some of his explanations of natural phenomena were erroneous, and\nthat none of his facts proved the truth of his theory. Still later I\nfound that Darwin himself acknowledged that the evidences of design in\nthe methods by which certain species of plants were fertilized, were not\nonly overpowering, but startling.\n\n4. Then came dissatisfaction with the theories by which unbelievers\nsought to account for the existence and order of the universe. They\nsupposed the universe to be eternal, and attributed the production of\nplants, and animals, and man to the blind unconscious working of\nlifeless matter. They attributed to dead matter the powers which\nbelievers attributed to a living God. They were obliged to believe that\nsenseless atoms could produce works transcending the powers of the\nmightiest minds on earth. To reconcile their belief in the eternity of\nthe universe, and in the unchanging properties of matter, with the\nphenomena of change and progress, they supposed an infinite succession\nof worlds, or of beginnings and endings of the same world, and imagined\nthe earth running exactly the same course, and having exactly the same\nhistory, every time it came into existence. Hence it became with them an\narticle of faith, that we had ourselves lived an infinite number of\ntimes, and should live an infinite number of times more in the future,\nrepeating always exactly the same life, with exactly the same results.\nIt was also an article of faith that we were mere machines, governed by\npowers over which we had no control; that our ideas of liberty, and our\nfeelings of responsibility, or of good and ill desert, were all\ndelusions; that all the errors, and crimes, and miseries of our race\nwere inevitable, and were to be eternally repeated; and that a change\nfor the better was eternally impossible. But time would fail me to\nmention all their theories. It is enough to say that the wild and\nunsatisfactory nature of these dreams helped to drive me back to\nChristianity.\n\n5. There was, of course, no tendency in unbelief to promote virtue, or\nto check vice. Its natural tendency was to utter depravity. And\nChristianity retained such an influence over me, even to the last, that\nI could never reconcile myself to a vicious life.\n\n6. Then came another trouble. Infidelity could give no guarantee that\nwrong should not finally triumph, and right be finally crushed. It is\nbelief in God alone that can give assurance that virtue shall be\nultimately rewarded, and vice ultimately punished. The Christian can\nbelieve past doubt, that \"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also\nreap;\" that \"with what judgment we judge, we shall be judged; and with\nwhat measure we mete, it shall be measured to us again.\" But the infidel\nhas no foundation for such a faith. For anything he knows, a man may sow\nvillany, and reap honor and blessedness. He may live by injustice and\ncruelty, and meet with no punishment, either here or hereafter; while\nanother may spend his days in doing good, and give his life for the\nsalvation of his fellows, and receive only torture, reproach, and death.\n\nNor is there any security for the triumph of truth on the infidel\nprinciple. For anything infidelity knows, truth may be always in the\nmire, and its friends be forever reproached and shunned; while error may\nalways be in the ascendant, and its propagators honored and rewarded.\nIndeed this is the case at present, if infidelity be true. For\ninfidelity is in the dust, while faith in God and Christ is in high\nrepute. And infidels are suspected and dreaded, while consistent\nbelievers are loved and trusted. Faith smoothes man's way through life,\nand in some cases raises him to honor and power; while Atheism makes a\nman's pathway rugged, and prevents his elevation. This state of things\nis exceedingly unsatisfactory to unbelievers. They ought, if they are\nthe wisest of men, as they suppose, to be everywhere received with\nhonor. They ought to be placed in power. The world should ring with\ntheir praise. The universe should enrich them with its treasures. The\nnames of their predecessors in unbelief should be had in the greatest\nhonor. They should stand first on the roll of fame. Their monuments\nshould fill the earth. The sweetest poets should sing their praises;\nthe most eloquent orators should proclaim their greatness; and the\nnations should delight to celebrate their worth. Their pictures and\nstatues should grace our courts, our temples, and our palaces. Their\ndeeds should form the staple of our pleasant histories, and their\nwritings crowd the shelves of our libraries. Children should be taught\nto lisp their names with reverence, and the aged should bless them with\ntheir parting breath.\n\nOn the other hand, if religion be false and foolish, if it be unnatural\nand mischievous, its friends should be pitied or despised, if not\nrebuked and punished. Its founders and propagators should be branded as\nthe weakest or the basest of men. Their names should be had in contempt\nor abhorrence. Their writings should be everywhere decried. Their\npictures and statues should fill some chamber of horrors. Historians,\npoets, and orators should hold them up to reprobation. Christians should\nbe kept from places of trust, and from posts of honor. They should be\nwretched, and poor, and miserable, and the hearts of men, and the powers\nof nature, should combine for their destruction, and for the utter\nextinction of their cause.\n\nYet the state of things is just the contrary. Christianity triumphs, and\nChristians are honored; while infidelity languishes, and its disciples\nare covered with shame. On the Atheist's theory the human race has\nexisted for millions of years, yet it has never produced more than a few\nindividuals who have acknowledged the principle of his creed. The mass\nof men, in all ages, have been believers in God. The civilized as well\nas the savage, the learned as well as the ignorant, the high as well as\nthe low, alike have adored a Deity. Even the greatest of our race have\nbeen believers. The sweetest poets, the profoundest philosophers, the\ngreatest statesmen, the wisest legislators, the most venerable judges,\nthe most devoted philanthropists, have all believed in God. Two or three\ntribes have been found, it is said, without an idea of God; but they\nwere savages of the lowest grade; and it is not yet settled whether the\naccounts that have been given of those wretched creatures be correct or\nnot.\n\nAnd Atheism has always been regarded with horror. It is so still. It is\nbelieved to be the nurse of vice and crime. Atheists are everywhere\nlooked upon with suspicion and dread. The prevailing impression is that\nthey are bad and dangerous men,--that no reliance is to be placed on\ntheir word,--that they are naturally licentious, dishonest, deceitful,\ncruel,--that they are prepared for any enormity,--that they are enemies\nto domestic purity and civil order, and that no one is safe in their\npower. If ever they were regarded by mankind with favor, the time is\nforgotten. There is not a nation on earth in which they are popular now.\nThey are everywhere branded as infamous.\n\nIf Atheists have always been so bad as to _deserve_ this fate, their\nprinciples must be bad. If they have deserved a better fate,--if they\nhave been pure, and just, and true,--if they have been remarkable for\ngenerosity, patriotism, and philanthropy,--if they have distinguished\nthemselves as the friends of virtue, and the benefactors of mankind, how\nsad to think that they have never received their due at the hands of\nmen.\n\nThe longer the Atheists look on their condition, the less satisfactory\nit appears. They have no grand history, no glorious names, to reflect\nhonor on their cause. They have no noble army of martyrs. They have no\ngreat monuments. And they can have no assurance of anything better in\ndays to come. The probability is that their memory will rot, and that\ntheir principles will be an offence and loathing to mankind through all\nsucceeding generations.\n\nBut look on the other side? The highest name on earth is a religious\nname; the name of Jesus. The names which stand next in honor are those\nof His Apostles and followers. The mightiest nations on earth are\nChristian nations. Christians rule the world. Christian ministers are\nhonored and revered. Christian churches rise to wealth and power. The\nChurch controls the state. It controls it most when it is least\nambitious, and most consistent. The Church has a glorious history. It\nhas the grandest array of honorable names. It has the noblest army of\nmartyrs. It has the richest literature. Its sacred books are read in all\nthe leading languages of the earth. The great geniuses are her's. The\nrichest poetry, the grandest eloquence, the divinest philosophy, the\nnoblest courage, the richest generosity, the most devoted philanthropy,\nare all her's. She has the credit of being the parent and the nurse of\nour highest civilization. She is the great educator. She builds our\nschools. She rules our colleges. She controls the press. She plants new\nnations. She spreads herself and exerts her influence in every land. You\ncannot destroy the Church. It is immortal. You cannot limit its power.\nIt is irresistibly expansive and invincible. If at any time it suffers\nloss, it is through its own unfaithfulness; and a return to duty is a\nreturn to dominion.\n\nEven in countries not Christian the religious element is supreme, and\nthe religious men alone are honored. The greatest names in the history\nof India and China, of Persia and Turkey, are the names of their\nprophets and religious leaders.\n\nWhat follows from all this? That if infidelity be true and good, and\nreligion false and mischievous, the world and the human race are wholly\nwrong. The best and wisest men are everywhere despised, and the weakest\nand wickedest are everywhere honored. The originators of the greatest\ndelusions are deified; and the revealers of the greatest truths are\nregarded as monsters. Truth no longer can be said to be mighty, and\nerror can no longer be said to be weak. The right is no longer sure of\ntriumph, nor the wrong of overthrow. Men love darkness and hate the\nlight; and it is not the few that do so, but the many. And there seems\nno hope of a change for the better. Earth is no place for the great, the\ngood, the wise; but for the ignorant, the deluded, and the base alone.\nIt is the paradise of fools, and the purgatory of philosophers.\n\nBut I asked, \"_Is_ infidelity true and good, and religion false and\nmischievous? Am I not laboring under some monster delusion? Have I not\nbeen imposed upon by a vicious logic? Are not mankind right in hating\nand dreading infidelity, and in loving and honoring religion? There is a\ntremendous mistake somewhere. Either infidelity is wrong, or mankind and\nthe universe are fearfully perverse.\"\n\n7. And now I began a reconsideration of the claims of religion and\ninfidelity. As I have said, I re-read the Bible. I reviewed Church\nhistory. I examined the character and workings of religious communities.\nAnd I found the Bible a better and a wiser book than I had ever\nimagined. And I found Christianity, as presented in the teachings and\nlife of Jesus, the fairest and loveliest, the most glorious and\nbeneficent of all systems. I found Jesus Himself to be the most\nbeautiful and exalted of all characters. I saw in Paul a dignity and a\nglory second only to those of Christ. I found in the New Testament the\nperfection of wisdom and beneficence. I found in the history of the\nChurch a record of the grandest movement, and of the most glorious and\nbeneficent reformation, the world had ever witnessed. I found in the\nchurches the mightiest agencies and the most manifold operations for the\nsalvation of mankind. \"Christianity,\" said I, \"whether supernatural or\nnot, is a wondrous power. It is good, if it is not true. It is glorious.\nIt _deserves_ to be Divine, whether it be so or not. What a world we\nshould have,--what a heaven on earth--if men could be brought to believe\nits teachings, to imbibe its spirit, and to obey its precepts. What a\nheaven of bliss it would be to one's soul if one could see it and feel\nit to be really true.\"\n\nIt had conquered my heart. It had won my love. And I would gladly have\ndied, or would gladly have lived through ages of hardship and toil, to\nbe satisfied of its divinity. How glad I was when I found men heartily\nbelieving it. How sad when I found them doubting, like myself. How\ndelighted I was when I found my objections to its truth slowly fading\naway, and saw facts in its favor coming gradually into view.\n\nBut doubt had become a powerful tyrant, and I had become a slave; and\nthough I _wished_ I could be a Christian, I could indulge no hope of\never experiencing so great a happiness. But I would do Christianity\njustice, to the best of my ability. I would exhibit its excellencies. I\nwould defend it against false accusations. I would preach it so far as I\nhonestly could. I would practise its precepts so far as I was able. I\nwould cherish its spirit. \"If it is not from God,\" said I, \"it is the\nbest production of the mind of man. If I cannot hold it forth as a\ndivine revelation, I can extol it as the perfection of human wisdom. And\nsome of its teachings are evidently true, and others are easily proved\nto be so. It is true throughout, so far as I can test it; and it may be\ntrue--perhaps I shall some day find it to be true--on points on which I\nam unable to test it at present. I will wait, and labor meanwhile to\npromote its beneficent influence!\"\n\nI looked on the other side. I read the Secularists' Bible: I reviewed\nthe history of unbelief; I examined the character and working of infidel\ncommunities. And what was the result! The Secularists' Bible I found to\nbe a huge and revolting mass of filth and loathsomeness; the most\nshameless attack on virtue and happiness that ever came under my view. I\nremembered that Carlisle and Robert Owen had published books of the same\nimmoral and dehumanizing tendency. The history of infidelity I found to\nbe a history of licentiousness, and of every abomination. The infidel\ncommunities I found to be hot-beds of depravity. The leaders of the\nparty were teachers and examples of deceit, of dishonesty, of\nintemperance, of gambling, and of unbounded licentiousness. They had no\nvirtue; they had no conscience; and it was only when they were in the\npresence of men of other views, that they had any shame, or modesty, or\nregard for decency. And they were fearfully intolerant and malignant\ntowards those who crossed them, or thwarted them, in their projects.\nThey were no great workers, but they would exert themselves to the\nutmost to annoy or vilify the objects of their displeasure. The facts\nthat came to my knowledge with regard to the morals of the Secularists\ncontributed to my deliverance from the thraldom of unbelief.\n\nThe honor awarded to Christ, and the infamy attached to infidelity, are\nno mistakes. Jesus has never been exalted beyond His merits, and\ninfidelity has never been hated or dreaded beyond its deserts.\nChristianity is the sum and perfection of all that is good, and true,\nand glorious; and atheism is the sum and aggravation of all that is\nvile, and mischievous, and miserable. It would be sad for the world if\nmen should lose their instinctive dread of infidelity, and begin to\nspeak of it as an error of little moment. It is a monster\nconglomeration of all evil, and it has no redeeming quality.\n\n8. Among the lectures which I delivered in my transition state was one\nin answer to the question; \"What do you offer as a substitute for the\nBible? Can you give us anything better?\" I said that I had no desire to\n_do away_ with the Bible; that I wished them to read it, study it, and\nreduce the better part of its precepts to practice. I said: \"With those\nwho would destroy the Bible, or prevent its circulation, I have no\nsympathy and no connexion. The Bible is a book of great interest and\nvalue; to say the least, it presents us with the thoughts of the best\nand wisest of men, on subjects of the greatest interest and importance;\nit gives us the best picture of the life and manners of the nations and\ninstitutions of the ancient world; it is a wonderful revelation of human\nnature; it tells the most interesting stories; it contains the grandest\nand most beautiful poetry, the wisest proverbs, the most faithful\ndenunciations of vice and crime, the most earnest exhortations to duty,\nthe best examples of virtue, the most instructive and touching\nnarratives of people of distinguished worth, the most rational and\npractical definitions of religion, the worthiest representations of God\nand the universe, the greatest encouragement to fidelity under reproach\nand persecution, the richest consolations under afflictions and trials,\nand the most cheering exhibitions of future blessedness. We know of\nnothing good in any system which is not favored by some portion of the\nBible. We know of nothing evil which is not condemned by other portions.\nAll that is best and noblest and grandest in man's nature is there\nembodied. We know of no good or generous feeling which is not there\nexpressed. We cannot imagine it possible for a book to be more earnest\nin its exhortations to the performance of duty, or to the culture of\nvirtue. There is no book on earth that we should be more reluctant to\npart with than the Bible. Its destruction would be a fearful loss to\nmankind. It is a mine containing treasures of infinite value. The wisest\nmay learn more wisdom from its teachings, and the best be raised to\nhigher virtue by its influence. It has done much good; it is doing good\nstill; it is calculated to do still greater good in days to come. Old as\nit is, it is a wiser book than the books of religion that are written\nin the present day. It is wiser than the preachers; wiser than the great\ndivines. It is infinitely superior to the Bibles that have been made in\nlater times, such as the Bible of the Shakers, the Bible of Reason, and\nthe Book of Mormon.\n\n\"It is superior to the Koran, though the authors of the Koran, like\nlater makers of Bibles, had the older Bible to help them. The Koran is\nthe best of modern Bibles, because it borrows most freely from the Old\nand New Testaments.\n\n\"The Bible is vastly better as a moral book, and as a persuasive and\nhelp to duty, than the writings of the best of the ancient Greeks and\nRomans. The Bible is consistent with itself as a moral teacher, though\nthe precepts of Judaism are inferior to those of Christianity. The Bible\ntreats man as a subject of law, as bound to obey God and do right, from\nfirst to last; and though it begins with fewer and less perfect\nprecepts, suited to lower states of society, it goes steadily on to\nperfection, till it gives us the highest law, and the most perfect\nexample, in the teachings and life of Christ. Read your Bibles; commit\nthe better portions of the Book to your memory; think of them, practise\nthem. Don't be ashamed to do so. The greatest philosophers, not\nexcepting such men as Newton, Locke, and Boyle; the most celebrated\nmonarchs, from Alfred to Victoria; the most venerable judges, with Sir\nMatthew Hale as their representative; the sweetest poets, from Chaucer,\nSpenser, Shakespeare, and Milton, down to Dryden, Young, and Cowper; and\nthe most devoted philanthropists, from Penn, and Howard, and Wesley, to\nElizabeth Fry and Florence Nightingale, have been lovers and students of\nthe Bible. The men that hate the Bible and wish for its destruction, are\nthe base and bad. The men who love it and labor for its world-wide\ncirculation, are the good and the useful. You cannot have a better\ncompanion than the Bible, if you will use it judiciously. There is no\ndanger that you should rate it too high. If you should regard it as\nsupernaturally inspired, it will do you no harm. Such ideas may make you\nread it more carefully, and pay more respect to its teachings, and that\nwill be a blessing. Men are in no danger of prizing good books too\nhighly. As a rule, they esteem them far too lightly. A great good book\nis one of the richest treasures on earth. There is still less danger\nthat you should think too much of the Bible. The man does not live that\nhas erred in that direction. The best friends the Bible has, the most\nstrenuous advocates of its divinity, do not estimate the Book above its\nworth. They do not value it according to its worth. It is richer in its\ncontents, it is better and mightier in its influences, than its\ndevoutest friends are aware.\n\n\"There are men who prate about Bibliolatry, and labor to lower men's\nestimate of the Bible. They may spare their breath. The people who\nidolize the Bible too much are creatures of their own imagination only,\nand not living men and women. People may love the Bible unwisely, but\nnot too well. To place it too high as a means of instructing,\nregenerating and blessing mankind, is not in man's power.\n\n\"I esteem it myself more highly than I ever did. My ramblings in the\nregions of doubt and unbelief; my larger acquaintance with the works of\ninfidel philosophers, atheistical reformers, fanatical dreamers,\nre-organizers of society, makers of new moral worlds, skeptical\nhistorians of civilization, Essays and Reviews, Elements of Social\nScience, Phases of Faith, and Phases of no Faith, and a world of other\nbooks; my enlarged acquaintance with men, my sense of spiritual want and\nwretchedness when shut out from religious consolations, have led me to\nvalue the Bible, skeptical as I yet am, as I never valued it before.\n\n\"I was born in a town on a hill, from which I had delightful views of a\nrich and beautiful valley. I looked on those beautiful prospects spread\nout before me, with their charming variety of scenery, from my earliest\ndays, to the time I left my native land, but I have no recollection that\nI ever experienced in those early times any large amount of pleasure\nfrom the sight. In course of time I left the place of my birth and the\nhome of my childhood, and visited other lands. I saw rivers and lakes,\nand mountains and plains, and forests and prairies in great abundance,\nand in almost endless variety. And I compared them one with another, and\nmarked their points of difference and resemblance. And then after my\nmany and long wanderings, I returned to the place of my birth, and\nlooked on the scenes of my childhood again; and I was lost in ecstacies.\nI was amazed that I had seen so little of their beauty, and been so\nlittle transported with their charms before.\n\n\"And so with regard to the Bible. I was born in a family in which the\nBible was read every day of the year. I heard its lessons from the lips\nof a venerable father, and of a most affectionate mother. I read the\nbook myself. I studied it when I came of age, and treasured up many of\nits teachings in my heart. I preached its truths to others. I defended\nits teachings against infidel assailants, and was eloquent in its\npraise.\n\n\"But a change took place; a strange, unlooked-for change. I was severed\nfrom the Church. I became an unbeliever. I turned away my eyes from the\nbook, or looked chiefly on such portions of it as seemed to justify my\nunbelief. I have been led of late to return to the book, and to study it\nwith a desire to do it justice; and the result is, I love it, I prize\nit, as I never did in my life. I read it at times with unshakable\ntransports, and I am sorry I should ever have been so insensible to its\ninfinite excellences.\"\n\nSuch was my lecture. Those who had come to oppose, seemed puzzled what\nto say. One man said I had been brought there to curse the Bible, and\nlo! I had blessed it altogether. Another said that what I had uttered\ncould not be my real sentiments--that my praise of the Bible must be a\ntrap or a snare. My answer was, They are my real convictions, and the\nsentiments that I publish in my weekly paper. Then how comes it that you\nare brought here by the Secularists? I answered, My custom is to accept\ninvitations from any party, but to teach my own sentiments.\n\nOne young man came to me at Bristol, after hearing me deliver this\nlecture, and said how glad he was at what I had said. \"When my mother\nwas dying,\" said he, \"she gave me a Bible, and pressed me to read it;\nand I did so for a while. But when I became a skeptic, I lost my\ninterest in the book, and I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't\nlike to sell it, or destroy it, because it was the gift of my mother;\nyet I seemed to have no use for it. I shall read it now with pleasure.\"\n\nOn the following evening I lectured on _True Religion_. The gentleman\nwho had come to oppose me said it was the best sermon, or about the\nbest, he had over heard. He seemed at a loss to know what right I had to\nspeak so earnestly in favor of all that was good, and appeared inclined\nto abuse me for not saying something bad. I took all calmly, and the\nmeeting ended pleasantly.\n\n9. And now, instead of trying to shake men's faith in religion, I\nlabored to strengthen it. I was satisfied that the faith of the\nChristian was right in substance, if it was not quite right in form. And\nI was satisfied there was something terribly wrong in unbelief, though I\ncould not yet free myself entirely from its horrible power.\n\n10. The feeling grew stronger that my remaining doubts were\nunreasonable; that my soul was a slave to an evil spell, the result of\nlong persistence in an evil method of reasoning; yet I lacked the power\nto emancipate myself. At length, as I have said, I appealed to Heaven\nand cried, \"GOD HELP ME!\" and my struggling soul was strengthened and\nreleased.\n\n11. I had looked at the Church when a Christian minister from the\nhighest ground, and it seemed too low. I had compared it with Christ and\nHis teachings, and it seemed full of shortcomings. I now looked at it\nfrom low ground, and it seemed high. I compared it with what I had seen\nin infidel society, and read in infidel books; and I was filled with\nadmiration of its order, and of its manifold labors of love. I tried to\nimitate the order and beneficent operations of the Church in my Burnley\nsociety, but failed. Faith in Christianity, and the spirit of its\nglorious Author, were wanting. The body without the spirit is dead.\n\n12. I was first convinced that Christianity was necessary to the\nhappiness of man, and to the regeneration of the world, but had doubts\nas to its truth. I now saw that much of it was true. In course of time I\ncame to be satisfied that the religion of Christ was true as a _whole_;\nthat it was a revelation from God; that Christ Himself was a revelation\nboth of what God _is_, and of what man _ought_ to be; that He was God's\nimage and man's model: that He was God incarnate, God manifest in the\nflesh, and the one great Saviour of mankind. My objections to miracles\ngave way. They seemed groundless. I saw miracles in nature. They were\nwrought on every emergency, even to secure the comfort of the lower\nanimals. What could be more rational than to expect them to be wrought\nin aid of man's illumination and salvation? My moral and religious\nfeelings got stronger. My skeptical tendencies grew weaker. I continued\nto look at Christ. I studied him more and more. My heart waxed warmer;\nmy love to God and Christ became a mighty flame. I got among the\nfollowers of Christ; I gave free scope, I gave full play, to my better\naffections, and heavenward tendencies. I read, I prayed, I wrote, I\nlectured, I preached. I gave free utterance to what I believed, and\nwhile doing so, came to believe still more, and to believe with fuller\nassurance. I used no violence with myself, except my lower self. I went\nno further in my preaching than I had gone in my belief, and I accepted\nno doctrines or theories which did not present themselves to my soul as\ntrue and right. But I came at length to see, not the perfection and\ndivinity of any particular system of theology, but the perfection and\ndivinity of Christianity, and the substantial perfection and divinity of\nthe Sacred Scriptures.\n\n13. I examined the popular objections to Christianity and the Bible.\nSome were exceedingly childish; some seemed wicked; some, it was plain,\noriginated in ignorance; some in error. Paine, Owen, Parker, and certain\nstudents of nature, came to erroneous conclusions with regard to Christ\nand the Bible, because they tried them by false standards. Jesus said\nnothing on the value of representative and democratic forms of\ngovernment, so Paine considered Him ignorant of the conditions of human\nhappiness. It was Paine however that was ignorant, not Jesus. Jesus was\nso wise, that Paine was not able to appreciate His views or do Him\njustice. Owen believed that man was the creature of circumstances; that\nhis character was formed for him, not by him, and that he was not\nresponsible therefore for his actions. Christ taught a contrary\ndoctrine. Owen therefore considered Christ to be in error: but the error\nwas in himself. Parker did not believe in the possibility of miracles:\nbut the Bible contained accounts of miracles. The Bible therefore must\nbe pronounced, to a great extent, fabulous. But miracles _are_ possible;\nmiracles are actual, palpable realities, and Parker's objection falls to\nthe ground. Many smatterers in science object to the credibility of the\ngospel history on the same ground, and are answered in the same way.\n\nSome objections to the Bible and Christianity originate in\nmisinterpretations of portions of the Bible. The Scriptures are made\nanswerable for foolish doctrines which they do not teach. Some\nobjections seem based on a wilful misconstruction of passages of\nScripture. Many objections owe their force to wrong theories of Divine\ninspiration, and to erroneous notions with regard to the design of the\nSacred Scriptures put forth by certain divines. These are obviated by\nthe rejection of those unwarrantable theories and erroneous ideas, and\nthe acceptance of better ones. Many get wrong notions about what\nconstitutes the _perfection_ of the Bible, and look in the Scriptures\nfor a _kind_ of perfection which is impossible in a book written in\nhuman language, and meant for the instruction and education of imperfect\nhuman beings. There is not a language on earth that is absolutely\nperfect, nor is it likely that there ever was, or ever will be, such a\nlanguage. An absolutely perfect book therefore in any human language is\nan impossibility. But no such thing as an absolutely perfect book is\nnecessary or desirable, any more than an absolutely perfect body or\nsoul, or an absolutely perfect church or ministry. There is a kind of\nimperfection in God's works which constitutes their perfection. There is\na kind of perfection talked about by metaphysical divines, which would\nbe the extreme of imperfection. We have reason to be thankful that there\nis no such perfection either in Nature or the Bible. Nature and the\nBible would be worthless if there were. But there is a practical\nperfection, a perfection of _usefulness_, in both; a perfection of\nadaptation to the accomplishment of the highest and most desirable\nobjects: and that is enough.\n\nThe principal objects for which the Bible was written were, 1. To make\nmen wise unto salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 2. To furnish\nGod's people unto every good work. 3. To support them under their\ntrials, and to comfort them under their sorrows, on their way to heaven.\nNo higher or more desirable ends can be conceived. And it answers these\nends, whenever its teachings are received and obeyed. And this is true,\nsubstantial perfection. This is the reasoning of the Psalmist. \"The law\nof the Lord is _perfect_,\" says he, and the proof he gives is this, \"_it\nconverteth the soul_.\" \"The testimony of the Lord is sure, _making wise\nthe simple_. The statutes of the Lord are right, _rejoicing the heart_.\nMoreover by them is Thy servant warned, and in keeping of them there is\ngreat reward.\" This is all the perfection we need.\n\n14. Spiritualism had something to do with my conversion. I know the\nstrong feeling prevailing among many Christians against spiritualism,\nbut I should feel as if I had not quite done my duty, if I did not, to\nthe best of my recollection, set down the part it had in the cure of my\nunbelief. My friends must therefore bear with me while I give them the\nfollowing particulars:--\n\nAs I travelled to and fro in America, fulfilling my lecturing\nengagements, I met with a number of persons who had been converted, by\nmeans of spiritualism, from utter infidelity, to a belief in God and a\nfuture life. Several of those converts told me their experience, and\npressed me to visit some medium myself, in hopes that I might witness\nsomething that would lead to my conversion. I was, at the time, so\nexceedingly skeptical, that the wonderful stories which they told me,\nonly caused me to suspect them of ignorance, insanity, or dishonesty;\nand the repetition of such stories, to which I was compelled to listen\nin almost every place I visited, had such an unhappy effect on my mind,\nthat I was strongly tempted to say, \"All men are liars.\" I had so\ncompletely forgotten, or explained away, my own previous experiences,\nand I was so far gone in unbelief, that I had no confidence whatever in\nanything that was told me about matters spiritual or supernatural. I\nmight have the fullest confidence imaginable in the witnesses when they\nspoke on ordinary subjects, but I could not put the slightest faith in\ntheir testimony when they told me their stories about spiritual matters.\nAnd though fifty or a hundred persons, in fifty or a hundred different\nplaces, without concert with each other, and without any temptation of\ninterest, told me similar stories, their words had not the least effect\non my mind. The most credible testimony in the world was utterly\npowerless, so far as things spiritual were concerned. And when the\nparties whose patience I tried by my measureless incredulity, entreated\nme to visit some celebrated medium, that I might see and judge for\nmyself, I paid not the least regard to their entreaties. I was wiser in\nmy own conceit than all the believers on earth.\n\nAt length, to please a particular friend of mine in Philadelphia, I\nvisited a medium called Dr. Redman. It was said that the proofs given\nthrough him of the existence and powers of departed spirits were such as\nno one could resist. My friend and his family had visited this medium,\nand had seen things which to them seemed utterly unaccountable, except\non the supposition that they were the work of disembodied spirits.\n\nWhen I entered Dr. Redman's room, he gave me eight small pieces of\npaper, about an inch wide and two inches long, and told me to take them\naside, where no one could see me, and write on them the names of such of\nmy departed friends as I might think fit, and then wrap them up like\npellets and bring them to him. I took the papers, and wrote on seven of\nthem the names of my father and mother, my eldest and my youngest\nbrothers, a sister, a sister-in-law, and an aunt, one name on each; and\none I left blank. I retired to a corner of the room to do the writing,\nwhere there was neither glass nor window, and I was so careful not to\ngive any one a chance of knowing what I wrote, that I wrote with a short\npencil, so that even the motion of the top of my pencil could not be\nseen. I was besides entirely alone in that part of the room, with my\nface to the dark wall. The bits of paper which the medium had given me\nwere soft, so that I had no difficulty in rolling them into round\npellets, about the size of small peas. I rolled them up, and could no\nmore have told which was blank and which was written on, nor which,\namong the seven I had written on, contained the name of any one of my\nfriends, and which the names of the rest, than I can tell at this moment\nwhat is taking place in the remotest orbs of heaven. Having rolled up\nthe papers as described, I laid them on a round table, about three feet\nbroad. I laid on the table at the same time a letter, wrapped up, but\nnot sealed, written to my father, but with no address outside. I also\nlaid down a few loose leaves of note paper. The medium sat on one side\nthe table, and I sat on the other, and the pellets of paper and the\nletter lay between us. We had not sat over a minute, I think, when there\ncame very lively raps on the table, and the medium seemed excited. He\nseized a pencil, and wrote on the outside of my letter, wrong side up,\nand from right to left, so that what he wrote lay right for me to read,\nthese words: \"I CAME IN WITH YOU, BUT YOU NEITHER SAW ME NOR FELT\nME. WILLIAM BARKER.\" And immediately he seized me by the hand, and\nshook hands with me.\n\nThis rather startled me. I felt very strange. For WILLIAM BARKER was the\nname of my youngest brother, who had died in Ohio some two or three\nyears before. I had never named him, I believe, in Philadelphia, and I\nhave no reason to suppose that any one in the city was aware that I had\never had such a brother, much less that he was dead. I did not tell the\nmedium that the name that he had written was the name of a brother of\nmine; but I asked, \"Is the name of this person among those written in\nthe paper pellets on the table?\"\n\nThe answer was instantly given by three loudish raps, \"Yes.\"\n\nI asked, \"Can he select the paper containing his name?\"\n\nThe answer, given as before, was \"Yes.\"\n\nThe medium then took up first one of the paper pellets and then another,\nlaying them down again, till he came to the fifth, which he handed to\nme. I opened it out, and it contained my brother's name. I was startled\nagain, and felt very strange. I asked, \"Will the person whose name is on\nthis paper answer me some questions?\"\n\nThe answer was, \"Yes.\"\n\nI then took part of my note paper, and with my left hand on edge, and\nthe top of my short pencil concealed, I wrote, \"_Where d----_,\"\n_intending_ to write, \"_Where did you die?_\" But as soon as I had\nwritten \"_Where d----_,\" the medium reached over my hand and wrote,\nupside down, and backwards way, as before,--\n\n\"_Put down a number of places, and I will tell you._\"\n\nThus answering my question before I had had time to ask it in writing.\n\nI then wrote down a list of places, four in all, and pointed to each\nseparately with my pencil, expecting _raps_ when I touched the right\none; but no raps came.\n\nThe medium then said, \"Write down a few more.\" I then discovered that I\nhad not, at first, written down the place where my brother died: so I\nwrote down two more places, the first of the two being the place where\nhe died. The list then stood thus:--\n\nSALEM,\nLEEDS,\nRAVENNA,\nAKRON,\nCUYAHOGA FALLS,\nNEW YORK.\n\nThe medium then took his pencil, and moved it between the different\nnames, till he came to CUYAHOGA FALLS, which he scratched out.\nThat was the name of the place where he died.\n\nI then wrote a number of other questions, in no case giving the medium\nany chance of knowing by any ordinary means what I wrote, and in every\ncase he answered the questions in writing as he had done before; and in\nevery case but one the answers were such as to show, both that the\nanswerer knew what questions I had asked, and was acquainted with the\nmatters to which they referred.\n\nWhen I had asked some ten or a dozen questions, the medium said, \"There\nis a female spirit wishes to communicate with you.\"\n\n\"Is her name among those on the table?\" I asked.\n\nThe answer, in three raps, was, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Can she select the paper containing her name?\" I asked.\n\nThe answer again was, \"Yes.\"\n\nThe medium then took up one of the paper pellets, and put it down; then\ntook up and put down a second; and then took up a third and handed it to\nme.\n\nI was just preparing to undo it, to look for the name, when the medium\nreached over as before, and wrote on a leaf of my note paper--\n\n\"IT IS MY NAME. ELIZABETH BARKER.\"\n\nAnd the moment he had written it, he stretched out his hand, smiling,\nand shook hands with me again. Whether it really was so or not, I will\nnot say, but his smile seemed the smile of my mother, and the expression\nof his face was the old expression of my mother's face; and when he\nshook hands with me, he drew his hand away in the manner in which my\nmother had always drawn away her hand. The tears started into my eyes,\nand my flesh seemed to creep on my bones. I felt stranger than ever. I\nopened the paper, and it was my mother's name: ELIZABETH BARKER. I asked\na number of questions as before, and received appropriate answers.\n\nBut I had seen enough. I felt no desire to multiply experiments. So I\ncame away--sober, sad, and thoughtful.\n\nI had a particular friend in Philadelphia, an old unbeliever, called\nThomas Illman. He was born at Thetford, England, and educated, I was\ntold, for the ministry in the Established Church. He was remarkably well\ninformed. I never met with a skeptic who had read more or knew more on\nhistorical or religious subjects, or who was better acquainted with\nthings in general, except Theodore Parker. He was the leader of the\nPhiladelphia Freethinkers, and was many years president of the Sunday\nInstitute of that city. He told me, many months before I paid my visit\nto Dr. Redman, that _he_ once paid him a visit, and that he had seen\nwhat was utterly beyond his comprehension,--what seemed quite at\nvariance with the notion that there was no spiritual world,--and what\ncompelled him to regard with charity and forbearance the views of\nChristians on that subject. At the time he told me of these things, I\nhad become rather uncharitable towards the Spiritualists, and very\ndistrustful of their statements, and the consequence was, that his\naccount of what he had witnessed, and of the effect it had had on his\nmind, made but little impression on me. But when I saw things resembling\nwhat my friend had seen, his statements came back to my mind with great\npower, and helped to increase my astonishment. But my friend was now\ndead, and I had no longer an opportunity of conversing with him about\nwhat we had seen. This Mr. Illman was the gentleman mentioned on a\nformer page, whom I attended on his bed of death.\n\nThe result of my visit to Dr. Redman was, that I never afterwards felt\nthe same impatience with Spiritualists, or the same inclination to\npronounce them all foolish or dishonest, that I had felt before. It was\nplain, that whether their theory of a spirit world was true or not, they\nwere excusable in thinking it true. It _looked_ like truth. I did not\nmyself conclude from what I had seen, that it was true, but I was\nsatisfied that there was more in this wonderful universe than could be\naccounted for on the coarse materialistic principles of Atheism. My\nskepticism was not destroyed, but it was shaken and confounded. And now,\nwhen I look back on these things, it seems strange that it was not\nentirely swept away. But believing and disbelieving are habits, and they\nare subject to the same laws as other habits. You may exercise yourself\nin doubting till you become the slave of doubt. And this was what I had\ndone. I had exercised myself in doubting, till my tendencies to doubt\nhad become irresistible. My faith, both in God and man, seemed entirely\ngone. I had not, so far as I can see, so much as \"a grain of mustard\nseed\" left. So far as religious matters were concerned, I was insane. It\nmakes me sad to think what a horrible extravagance of doubt had taken\npossession of my mind. A thousand thanks to God for my deliverance from\nthat dreadful thraldom.\n\n15. I have been asked how I meet my own old objections to the Divine\nauthority of the Bible. I answer, some of them originated in\nmisinterpretations of Scripture. Others originated in mistakes with\nregard to the character of Christ. Some things which I regarded as\ndefects in Christ were, in truth, excellencies. Some were based on\nmistakes with regard to the truth of certain doctrines, and the value of\ncertain precepts. I looked on certain doctrines as false, which I now am\nsatisfied are true; and I regarded certain precepts as bad, which I am\nnow persuaded are good. Some things which I said about the Bible were\ntrue, but they proved nothing against its substantial perfection and\ndivinity. Much of what I said in my speech at Salem, Ohio, about the\nimperfection of all translations of the Scriptures, the various readings\nof Greek and Hebrew manuscripts, the defects of Greek and Hebrew\ncompilations, and the loss of the original manuscripts, was true; but it\namounted to nothing. It disproved the unguarded statements of certain\nrash divines; but it proved nothing against the divine inspiration or\nsubstantial perfection of the Bible as taught in the Bible itself, and\nas held by divines of the more enlightened and sober class. That which\nis untrue in what I wrote about the Scriptures is no longer an obstacle\nto my faith, now that I see it to be untrue. And those remarks which are\ntrue in my writings on the Bible give me no trouble, because my faith in\nBible inspiration is of such a form, that they do not affect it. They\nmight shake the faith of a man who believes in a kind of inspiration of\nthe Bible which is unscriptural, and in a kind of perfection of the Book\nwhich is impossible; but they do not affect the faith of a man who keeps\nhis belief in Bible inspiration and Bible perfection within the bounds\nof Scripture and reason.\n\nAnd here I may say a few words about the objections I advanced in my\ndebate with Dr. Berg.\n\n1. The great mass of those objections prove nothing against the Bible\nitself, as the great and divinely appointed means of man's religious\ninstruction and improvement. They simply show that the theory held by\nDr. Berg about the inspiration and absolute perfection of the book was\nerroneous. If Dr. Berg had modified his notions, and brought them within\nScriptural bounds, this class of objections would all have fallen to the\nground.\n\n2. But some of my statements were untrue and unjust. For instance, in\none case I said, 'The man who forms his ideas of God from the Bible can\nhardly fail to have blasphemous ideas of Him.' Now, from the account of\nthe Creation in Genesis, to the last chapter in Revelation, the one\ngrand idea presented of God is that He is good, and that His delight is\nto do good,--that He is good to all, and that His tender mercies are\nover all His works. Whatever may be said of a few passages of dark or\ndoubtful meaning, the whole drift of the Bible is in accordance with\nthat wonderful, that unparalleled oracle of the Apostle, 'GOD IS LOVE.'\n\n3. Another statement that I made was, that the man who studies God in\nNature, without the Bible, is infinitely likelier to get worthier views\nof God, than he who gets his ideas of God from the Bible without regard\nto Nature. Now the truth is, no man _can_ get his ideas of God from the\nBible without regard to Nature; for the Bible constantly refers to\nNature as a revelation of God, and represents Nature as exhibiting the\ngrandest displays of God's boundless and eternal goodness. The Bible and\nNature are in harmony on the character of God. The only difference is,\nthat the revelations of God's love in the Bible, and especially in\nChrist, are more striking, more overpowering and transforming than those\nof Nature. And lastly, the notions of God entertained by those who have\nthe light of Nature alone, are not to be compared with the views\nentertained by those who form their views of God from the Bible alone,\nor from the Bible and Nature conjoined.\n\n4. One of my strongest objections was based on the 109th Psalm. This\nPsalm contains strong expressions of revenge and hatred towards the\nenemy of the Psalmist. The answer to this objection is,\n\n1. That the Psalmist is not set up as our great example, and that his\nutterances are not given as the highest manifestation of goodness.\n\n2. The Psalms are exceedingly instructive and interesting, and must have\nbeen of immense value, both as a means of comfort and improvement, to\nthose to whom they were first given; but the perfection of divine\nrevelation was yet to come. The Psalms are of incalculable value still,\nbut they are not our standard of the highest virtue. John the Baptist\nwas greater, higher, better than the Psalmist; yet the least of the\nfollowers of Jesus is higher than he.\n\n3. But thirdly; we must not conclude that the feelings and expressions\nof the Psalmist were wicked, merely because they fell short of the\nhighest Christian virtue. 'Revenge,' says one of our wisest men, 'is a\nwild kind of justice;' but it _is_ justice notwithstanding, when called\nforth by real and grievous wrong. It is goodness, though not goodness of\nthe highest kind. It is virtue, though not perfect Christian virtue. And\nthe revenge of the Psalmist was provoked by wrong of the most grievous\ndescription. Read the account of the matter given in the Psalm itself.\n'Hold not thy peace, O God of my praise; for the mouth of the wicked and\nthe mouth of the deceitful are opened against me: they have spoken\nagainst me with a lying tongue. They compassed me about also with words\nof hatred; and fought against me without a cause. For my love they are\nmy adversaries: but I give myself unto prayer. And they have rewarded me\nevil for good, and hatred for my love.' This was injustice, ingratitude,\ncruelty of the most grievous kind. And these wrongs had been continued\ntill his health and strength wore reduced to the lowest point. 'I am\ngone,' says he, 'like the shadow when it declineth. My knees are weak;\nmy flesh faileth; so that when men look at me, they shake their heads.'\n\nAnd a similar cause is assigned for the revengeful expressions in the\n69th Psalm. There we find the persecuted Psalmist saying, \"They that\nhate me, and would destroy me, are my enemies wrongfully, and they are\nmany and mighty. Then I restored that which I took not away. For _thy\nsake_ have I borne reproach: the reproaches of them that reproached thee\nare fallen upon me. I was the song of the drunkards. Reproach hath\nbroken my heart; and I am full of heaviness: and I looked for some one\nto take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but none\nappeared.\" Thus the men that wronged and tormented the Psalmist were\nenemies to God and goodness, as well as to himself.\n\nWe know that the virtue of the injured and tormented Psalmist was not\nthe virtue of the Gospel; but it _was_ virtue. It was the virtue of the\nlaw. And the law was holy, just, and good, so far as it went. If the\nresentment of the Psalmist had been cherished against some good or\ninnocent man, it would have been wicked; as it was, it was righteous.\nTrue, if the Psalmist had lived under the better and brighter\ndispensation of Christianity, he would neither have felt the reproaches\nheaped on him so keenly, nor moaned under them so piteously, nor\nresented them so warmly. He might then have learned\n\n     \"To hate the sin with all his heart,\n     And still the sinner love.\"\n\nHe might have counted reproach and persecution matters for joy and\ngladness. And instead of calling for vengeance on his enemies, he might\nhave cried, \"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.\" But\nthe Psalmist did _not_ live under the dispensation of the Gospel. He\nlived under a system which, good as it was, made nothing perfect. And he\nacted in accordance with that system. And the intelligent Christian, and\nthe enlightened lover of the Bible, will not be ashamed either of the\nPsalmist, or of the Book which gives us the instructive and interesting\nrevelations of his experience.\n\n5. Another of my objections to the Bible was grounded on the statement,\nthat God visits the iniquities of the fathers on the children. But it is\na fact, first, that children _do_ suffer through the sins of their\nfathers. The children of drunkards, thieves, profligates, all suffer\nthrough the misdoings of their parents. It is also a fact, that men\ngenerally suffer through the misdoings of their fellow-men. We all\nsuffer through the vices of our neighbors and countrymen. The sins of\nidlers, spendthrifts, misers, drunkards, gluttons, bigots, persecutors,\ntyrants, thieves, murderers, corrupt politicians, and sinners of every\nkind, are in this sense visited on us all. And we derive advantages on\nthe other hand from the virtues of the good. And it would be a strange\nworld, if no one could help or hurt another. It is better things are as\nthey are. The advantages we receive from the good, tend to draw us to\nimitate their virtues. The sufferings entailed on us by the bad, tend to\ndeter us from their vices.\n\nAnd so it is with parents and children. Children are specially prone to\nimitate their parents. If they never suffered from the evil ways of\ntheir parents, they would be in danger of walking in those ways\nthemselves for ever. When they suffer keenly from their parents'\nmisdoings, there is ground to hope that they will themselves do better.\nI have known persons who were made teetotalers through the sufferings\nbrought on them by the drunkenness of their fathers. And on the other\nhand; the blessings entailed on children by the virtue of their parents,\ntend to draw them to goodness. And I have known fathers, who would\nventure on evil deeds when they thought only of the suffering they might\nbring on themselves, who have been staggered, and have shrunk from their\ncontemplated crimes, when they have thought of the ruin they might bring\non their children. And where is the good parent who is not more\npowerfully stimulated to virtue and piety by thoughts of the blessings\nwhich he may secure thereby to his offspring? The whole arrangement, by\nwhich our conduct is made to entail good or evil on others, and by which\nthe conduct of others is made to entail good or evil on us, tends to\nengage us all more earnestly in the war with evil, and to make us labor\nmore zealously for the promotion of knowledge and righteousness among\nall mankind.\n\n6. Another of my objections to the Bible was based on those passages\nwhich represent God as causing men to do bad deeds. Joseph tells his\nbrethren, that it was not they, but God, who sent him into Egypt. David\nsays, 'Let Shimei curse; for God hath bidden him.' Of course, the words\nof men like Joseph and David are not always the words of God. But Jesus\nHimself speaks of Judas as appointed or destined to his deed of\ntreachery. What can we make of such passages? Does God make men wicked,\nor cause them to sin? We answer, No. How is it then? We answer, What God\ndoes is this: when men have made themselves wicked, He turns their\nwickedness to good account, by causing it to show itself in some\nparticular way rather than in some other. God did not make the brethren\nof Joseph envious and malicious; but he caused their envy and malice to\ninduce them to sell their brother into Egypt, rather than to kill him\nand throw him into a pit. The wickedness was their own; the particular\nturn given to it was of God. God did not make Shimei a base, bad man;\nbut Shimei having become base and bad, God chose that his villany should\nspend itself on David, rather than on some other person. God did not\nmake Judas a thief and a traitor; but Judas having made himself so, God\nso places him, that his avarice, his dishonesty and his treachery shall\nminister to the accomplishment of a great beneficent design. God did not\nteach the spirits that deceived Ahab to lie; but those spirits having\ngiven themselves to lying, God chose that they should practise their\nillusions on Ahab rather than on others. God did not make Pharaoh mean\nor tyrannical; but Pharaoh having become so, God chooses to employ his\nevil dispositions in bringing about remarkable displays of His power.\nGod does not make politicians corrupt; but politicians having become\ncorrupt, God chooses to place them in positions in which they can rob,\nand torment, and dishonor us, and so incite us to labor more zealously\nfor the Christianization of our country. A man becomes a thief, and\nsays, I will rob John Brown to-night. And he places himself in the way\nalong which he expects John Brown to pass, and prepares himself for his\ndeed of plunder. But God does not wish to have John Brown robbed; so He\narranges that David Jones, a man whom he wishes to be relieved of his\nmoney, shall pass that way, and the thief robs _him_. The dishonesty is\nthe thief's own, but it is God that determines the party on whom it\nshall be practised.\n\nI have a bull-dog that would worry a certain animal, if I would take it\nwhere the animal is feeding. But I choose to bring it in view of another\nanimal which I wish to be destroyed, and he worries that. I do not make\nthe bull-dog savage; but I use his savagery for a good purpose, instead\nof letting him gratify it for an evil one. This view of things explains\na multitude of difficult passages of Scripture, and enables us to see\nwisdom and goodness in many of God's doings, in which we might otherwise\nfancy we saw injustice and inconsistency.\n\nI have not time to answer all my old objections to the Bible, advanced\nin the Berg debate, nor have I time to answer any of them at full\nlength: but I have answered the principal ones; and the answers given\nare a fair sample of what might be given to all the objections.\n\nAs for the objections grounded on little contradictions, on matters of\nlittle or no moment, they require no answer. Whether the contradictions\nare real or only apparent, and whether they originated with copyists,\ntranslators, or the original human authors of the Books in which they\nare found, it is not worth our while to inquire. They do not detract\nfrom the worth of the Bible one particle, nor are they inconsistent with\nits claims to a super-human origin.\n\nAnd so with regard to the expressions scattered up and down the\nScriptures in reference to natural things, which are supposed to be\ninconsistent with the teachings of modern science. They are, in our\nview, of no moment whatever. Men writing or speaking under divine\nimpulse, with a view to the promotion of religion or righteousness,\nwould be sure, when they alluded to natural things, to speak of them\naccording to the ideas of their times. Their geography, their astronomy,\nand even their historical traditions, would be those of the people among\nwhom they lived. Their spirit, their aim, would be holy and divine.\n\nNor have we any reason to wish it should be otherwise. Nor had our old\ntheologians ever any right, or Scriptural authority, for saying it was,\nor that it ought to be, otherwise. To us it is a pleasure and an\nadvantage to have a record of the ideas, of the first rude guesses, of\nour early ancestors, with regard to the wonders and mysteries of the\nuniverse, and of the events of 'the far backward and abyss of time.' It\ncomforts us, and it makes us thankful, to see from what small and\nblundering beginnings our numberless volumes of science have sprung. And\nit comforts us, and makes us thankful, to see how the first faint\nstreaks of spiritual and moral light, that fell on our race, gradually\nincreased, till at length the day-spring and the morning dawned, and\nthen the full bright light of the Sun of Righteousness brought the\neffulgence of the Perfect Day.\n\nAnd here perhaps may be the place for a few additional remarks on Divine\ninspiration.\n\nWe may observe, in the first place, that a man moved to speak by the\nHoly Spirit, will, of course, speak for holiness. His aim will be the\npromotion of true religiousness, and this will be seen in all he says.\nHe may not be a good scholar. He may not speak in a superhuman style.\nHis reasoning may not be in strict accordance with the logic of the\nschools. His dialect may be unpolished. He may betray a lack of\nacquaintance with modern science. He may not be perfect even in his\nknowledge of religion and virtue. But he will show a godly spirit. The\naim and tendency of all he says will be to do good, to promote\nrighteousness and true holiness.\n\nAnd so if a man be moved to _write_ by the Holy Spirit, there will be an\ninfluence favorable to holiness in all he writes. His object will be\ngood. If he be a scholar, he will unconsciously show his learning; if he\nbe a man of science, he may show his science. If he be ignorant of\nscience, his ignorance may show itself. The Spirit of Holiness will\nneither remove his ignorance nor conceal it: it will not make him talk\nlike a learned man or a philosopher; but it will make him talk like a\nsaint, like a servant of God, and a friend of man. His writings will\nbreathe the spirit and show the love of holiness, and a tendency to all\ngoodness.\n\nAnd these are just the qualities we see in the Bible. It breathes a holy\nspirit. It tends to promote holiness. The writers were not all equally\nadvanced in holiness; hence there is a difference in their writings.\nThey were not alike in their mental constitutions or their natural\nendowments. They were not equal in learning, or in a knowledge of\nnature, or in general culture. They differed almost endlessly. And their\nwritings differ in like manner. But they all tend to holiness. Some of\nthe writers were poets, and their writings are poetical. Others were not\npoets, and their writings are prose. The poets were not all equal. Some\nof them were very good poets, and their writings are full of beauty,\nsublimity and power. Others of them were inferior poets, and their\ncompositions are more coarse, or more formal. Some of the writers were\nshepherds or herdsmen, and their writings are rough and homely. Some of\nthem were princes and nobles, scholars and philosophers, and their\nwritings are richer and more polished. Some of them were mere clerks\nand chroniclers, and their writings are dry and common-place; others\nwere fervid, powerful geniuses, and their works are full of fire and\noriginality. Their thoughts startle you. Their words warm you. They are\nspirit and life. All the writers show their natural qualities and\ntempers. All exhibit the defects of their learning and philosophy. All\nwrite like men,--like men of the age, and of the rank, and of the\nprofession, and of the country, to which they belong. They write, in\nmany respects, like other men. The thing that distinguished them is, a\nspirit of holiness; a regard, a zeal, for God and righteousness, and for\nthe instruction and welfare of mankind. In their devotion to God and\ngoodness they are all alike, though not all equal; but in other respects\nthey differ almost endlessly. In their devotion to God and goodness,\nthey are _unlike_ the mass of pagan worldly writers, but not so unlike\nthem in every other respect.\n\nThe divine inspiration of the sacred writers, or their wondrous zeal for\nrighteousness, is hardly a matter for dispute. It is a simple, plain,\npalpable matter of fact. We see it on almost every page of their\nwritings. We feel it in almost every sentence.\n\nTake the account of Creation in Genesis. No one could have written that\ndocument under the influence of an ungodly or unholy spirit. It speaks\nthroughout with the utmost reverence of God. It represents Him as acting\nfrom the best and noblest feeling. He works, not for His own interest or\nhonor, but solely for the purpose of diffusing happiness. He not only\ndoes the greatest, the best, the noblest things, but He does them with a\nhearty good will. Every now and then He stops to examine His works, and\nis delighted to find that everything is good. It is plain He _meant_\nthem to be good. He creates countless multitudes of happy beings, and\ndoes it all from impulses of His own generous nature. All living things\nare made to be happy, and all nature is made and adapted to minister to\ntheir happiness. And when at length He has completed His works, crowning\nall with the creation of man, He looks on all again, and with evident\nsatisfaction and delight, declares them all very good.\n\nRead the account of His creation of man. \"And God said, Let us make man\nin our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the\nfish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and\nover all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the\nearth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created\nhe him, male and female created he them. And God blessed them, and God\nsaid unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and\nsubdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl\nof the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. And\nGod said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is\nupon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the\nfruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat. And to every\nbeast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to everything that\ncreepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, I have given every green\nherb for meat: and it was so. And God saw everything that he had made,\nand behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the\nsixth day.\" There can be no mistake as to the spirit and disposition of\nthe Great Being whom we see working, and hear speaking, in this passage.\nEverything savors of pure and boundless love.\n\n1. He makes man male and female, that they may have the comfort and\nadvantages of society, and of love and friendship in their highest,\nholiest, and most intimate form.\n\n2. Then He makes them in His own image, which, whatever else it may\nmean, means ungrudging and unbounded goodness on His part. There can be\nnothing higher, greater, better, happier than God. To make man in His\nown image, and to appoint him, so far as possible, to a like position,\nand a like lot with Himself, was the grandest display of goodness\npossible.\n\n3. And He gives the man and woman dominion over every living\nthing,--makes them, next to Himself, lords of the universe. And He\nblesses them, speaks to them sweet good words; and His blessing maketh\nrich and adds no sorrow. He encourages them to be fruitful; to multiply,\nand replenish the earth, and to subdue it,--to turn it ever more to\ntheir advantage. He in effect places all things at their disposal;\nevery green herb, bearing seed, and every tree yielding fruit, is given\nto them for food; and they are at the same time given for food to every\nbeast of the field, and to every fowl of the air, and to everything that\ncreepeth on the face of the earth. A richer, sweeter story,--a story of\nmore cheerful, generous liberality,--a picture more creditable or\nhonorable to God, one cannot imagine.\n\nAnd the story is all of a piece. There is not a jar in it from first to\nlast. Its consistency is complete. Whatever else may be said of the\nauthor of this account, it is certain that he was moved by a Holy\nSpirit, that he had the loftiest and worthiest views of God, and that he\nloved Him with all his heart and soul. He believed in a good and holy\nGod, and in a good and holy life.\n\nI say nothing about the harmony or discord between this account of\nCreation, and the facts of Geographical, Astronomical, or Geological\nscience. I do not trouble myself about such matters. To me it is a\nquestion of no importance or concern whatever. And I have no trouble\nabout the interpretation of the story.\n\nIt wants no interpretation. It is as plain as the light. And I take it\nin its simple, obvious, literal, natural sense. I keep to the\nold-fashioned meaning--the meaning generally given to it before the\ndisputes about Geology and Astronomy seemed to render a new and\nunnatural one necessary. The days of the story are natural days, and the\nnights are natural nights. The length of each of the six days was the\nsame as that of the Sabbath day. The seven days made an ordinary week.\nThe first verse does not refer to a Creation previous to the week in\nwhich man was made. It is a statement of the work of Creation in\ngeneral, of which the verses following give the particulars. All the\nwork that is spoken of was believed by the writer to have been begun and\nended in six ordinary natural days.\n\nAs to whether the story be literally or scientifically correct or not, I\ndo not care to inquire. I am satisfied that it is the result of divine\ninspiration--that he who wrote it or spoke it was moved by the Holy\nSpirit. The Spirit of truth, of love, of purity, of holiness pervades it\nfrom beginning to end. It does justice to God; it bears benignly on\nman; it favors all goodness. I see, I feel the blessed Spirit in every\nline, and I want no more.\n\nWe are told that there are _two_ accounts of Creation, and that on some\npoints they differ from each other. For anything I know this may be the\ncase. But one thing is certain, they do not differ in the views they\ngive of God or of His objects. They both represent Him as a being not\nonly of almighty power and infinite wisdom, but of pure, unsullied,\nboundless generosity. In truth, the only impulse to Creation that\npresents itself is, the natural, spontaneous goodness of the Creator.\nAnd on some points the manifestations of God's love and purity, of His\nrighteousness and holiness, are more full and striking in the second\naccount than in the first. God's desire for the social happiness of man\ncomes out more fully. Man, according to this second account, is made\nprevious to woman, and permitted for a time to experience the sense of\ncomparative loneliness. He is left to look through the orders of\ninferior creatures, in search of a mate, and permitted to feel, for a\nmoment, the sense of disappointment. At length he is cast into a deep\nand quiet sleep, and when he awakes, his mate, his counterpart, an exact\nanswer to his wants, his cravings, perfect in her loveliness, stands\nbefore his eyes, and fills his soul with love and ecstacy. Marriage is\ninstituted in its purest and highest form. The law of marriage is\nproclaimed, which is just, and good, and holy in the highest degree.\nProvision is made for the comfort and welfare of the new-created pair.\nTheir home is a paradise, or garden of delights; their task is to dress\nit and to keep it. Their life is love. The _general_ law under which\nthey are placed is made known to them, and they are graciously warned\nagainst transgression. The law is the perfection of wisdom and\ngenerosity. It allows them an all but unlimited liberty of indulgence.\nThey may eat of the fruit of every tree in the garden but one.\nIndulgence must have its limits somewhere, or there could be no virtue,\nand without virtue there could be no true happiness.\n\nLaw, trial, and temptation are all essential to virtue and\nrighteousness. Here they are all supplied; supplied so far as we can\nsee, in their best and most considerate forms. No law is given to the\nlower animals. No self-denial is required of them. They are incapable\nof virtue or righteousness, and are therefore left lawless. A _child_\nleft to himself would bring his mother to shame; a man left to himself\nwould rush headlong to destruction. But birds and beasts do best when\nleft to themselves, or when left to the law in their own natures. Their\ninstincts, or God's own impulses, urge them ever in the right direction,\nand secure to them the kind and amount of happiness they are capable of\nenjoying. They are incapable of virtue, so they are made incapable of\nvice. They cannot share the highest pleasures; they shall not be exposed\ntherefore to the bitterest pains. Man is capable of both virtue and\nvice, and he must either rise to the one or sink to the other. He cannot\nstay midway with the lower animals. Man must be happy or miserable in a\nway of his own; he cannot have the portion of the brute. He must either\nbe the happiest or the most miserable creature on earth. He must either\ndwell in a paradise, or writhe in a purgatory. He must either live in\nhappy fellowship with God, or languish and die beneath his frown. And in\nthe nature of things, the possibility of one implies liability to the\nother. This is man's greatness, and bliss, and glory, that he is capable\nof righteousness; capable of fellowship, unity, with God; and capable of\nprogress, improvement, without limits, of life without end, and of\nhappiness without bounds.\n\nAll this, which is the perfection of true philosophy, the sum of all\ntrue wisdom and knowledge, is presented in the most striking,\nastounding, and intelligible form in this second, or supplementary\naccount of creation. Duty is defined in the clearest manner. It is\nenjoined in the plainest terms. The results of transgression are\nforetold with all fidelity. The great principle is revealed that\nrighteousness is life and happiness, and that sin is misery and death.\nAnd man is left to his choice.\n\nHere we have the substance, the elements, of all knowledge, of all law,\nof all duty, of all retribution. We have the principles of the divine\ngovernment. We have the substance of all history. We have in substance,\nthe lessons, the warnings, the counsels, the encouragements, the\nprophecies and revelations of all times and of all worlds. The tendency\nof the whole story is to make us feel that righteousness is the one\ngreat, unchanging and eternal good; and that sin, unchecked indulgence,\nis the one great, eternal, and unchanging curse. The spirit of the\nstory, its drift, its aim, is _holiness_ from first to last. The writer\nis moved throughout by the Holy Spirit--the Spirit of truth and\nrighteousness--the Spirit of God. We see it, we feel it, in every part.\nWe want no proof of the fact in the shape of miracle; the proof is in\nthe story itself. It is not a matter of dispute; it is a matter of plain\nunquestionable fact. And that the story is essentially, morally, and\neternally true, is proved by all the events of history, by all the facts\nof consciousness, and by the laws and constitution of universal nature.\n\nAnd in the history of man's first sin as here given, and in the account\nof its effects, and in the conduct of God to the sinning pair, I find,\nnot the monster fictions of an immoral and blasphemous theology, but the\nmost important elements of moral, religious, and physical science. And\ninstead of feeling tempted to ridicule the document, I am constrained to\ngaze on it with the highest admiration and the profoundest reverence for\nits amazing wisdom.\n\nAs to whether the account of the creation of the man and the woman, and\nthe story of the forbidden fruit, and of the serpent, and of the tree of\nlife, are to be taken literally or allegorically, I have no concern at\npresent. My sole concern with it is that of a Christian teacher and\nmoralist. The only question with me is: 'Is it divinely inspired? Does\nthe writer speak as a man moved by the Holy Spirit? Is it the tendency\nof the story to make men lawless, recklessly self-indulgent, regardless\nof God and duty; or is it the tendency of the story to make men fear God\nand work righteousness?' And that is a question answered by the story\nitself. On other matters the author writes as a man of his age and\ncountry; on this, the only matter of importance, he writes as a man\nmoved by the Spirit of God.\n\nAnd what I say of the accounts of Creation, I say of the history of Cain\nand Abel, of Enoch and Job, of Noah and the Flood, of Abraham and Lot,\nof Moses and his laws, and of the Hebrews and their history, of the\nPsalms and Proverbs, of the Prophets and Apostles. All have one aim and\ntendency; all make for righteousness. The writers are all moved by one\nSpirit--the Spirit of holiness.\n\nWith the exception of the Book called Solomon's Song, and some other\nunimportant portions of the Bible, the Scriptures all bear\nunquestionable marks, are full from Genesis to Revelations, of proofs\nindubitable, that they are the products of divine inspiration; that\ntheir authors wrote as they were moved by the Holy Spirit. Whatever\ntheir rank or profession, whatever their position or education, whatever\ntheir age or country, whatever their particular views on matters of\nlearning or science, the sacred writers all speak as men under holy,\nheavenly influences, and their writings, however they may differ in\nstyle, or size, or other respects, are all, \"profitable for doctrine,\nfor reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the\nman of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.\"\n\n16. I have been asked why I do not publish a refutation of my former\nreasonings one by one, and a full explanation and defence of my present\nviews. I answer, my only reason for not doing this, so far as it is\nreally desirable, is a want of time. I did something in this line in my\n_Review_. I have done a little more in my lectures on the Bible and on\nFaith and Science, and I hope, in time, to do more.\n\n17. I have been asked again, why I shun discussion on the subject. I\nanswer, I have never done so. When those who invite me to lecture wish\nme to allow discussion, I comply with their wishes. I agreed to a public\ndiscussion at Northampton; but the person who was to have met me drew\nback. Again, if any one really wishes to discuss with me, he can do so\nthrough the press. I published my views in my _Review_ thirteen or\nfourteen years ago. I have published many of them since in a number of\npamphlets, giving all as good an opportunity of discussing them as they\ncan wish. And there is not the same necessity for a man who has\npublished his views through the press, to invite discussion on the\nplatform, as there is for a man who has _not_ given his views through\nthe press.\n\nThe following letter, written to a friend in Newcastle-on-Tyne, may\nexplain my views on this point a little more fully:--\n\nMY DEAR SIR,--In answer to your question whether I will meet\nthe Representative of Secularism in debate, I would say, that I had\nrather, for several reasons, spend what remains of my life and strength\nin peaceful labors as a preacher, a lecturer, and an author. I seem to\nhave done enough in the way of public discussion. And I have not the\namount of physical or nervous energy, or the strength of voice and\nlungs, which I once had. I am suffering, not only from the effects of\nage, but from a terrible shock received in a collision on the railway,\ncausing serious paralysis of my right side, and greatly reducing the\nforce and action of my heart and brain.\n\nThen I am not the representative of the Church, or of any section of it.\nI can only stand forth as the advocate of my own views. Further; there\nare many questions connected with the Bible, which appear to me more\nfitted for quiet thought and friendly discussion among scholars and\ncritics, than for debate in a popular audience. On many of those points\nChristian divines differ among themselves. They differ, for instance, to\nsome extent, in their views of Bible inspiration and the sacred canon;\nthey differ as to the worth of manuscripts, texts, and versions, the\nvalidity of various readings, the origin and significance of\ndiscrepancies in some of the historical and chronological portions of\nthe Bible, &c., &c. On none of these points do I consider myself called\nupon to state or advocate any particular views.\n\nThere are however points of a broader and more important character, on\nwhich a public popular discussion might be proper and useful; such as\nthe general drift and scope of the Bible, or its aim and tendency; the\ncharacter and tendency of Christianity as presented in the life and\nteachings of its Author, and in the writings of the Apostles; the\ncomparative merits of Christianity, and of Atheistic Secularism as set\nforth in the writings of Secularists.\n\nI understand the leaders of the Secularists to teach, that Christianity\nis exceedingly mischievous in its tendency,--that it is adverse to\ncivilization, and to the temporal interests of mankind generally,--that\nthe Bible is the curse of Europe, &c. These are subjects on which a\npopular audience may be as well qualified to judge, as scholars and\ncritics. And if you particularly desire it, I will authorize you to\narrange for a discussion on them between me and such representative of\nSecularism as you may think fit. I should not however like the\ndiscussion to occupy more than three nights in any one week. And I\nshould wish effectual precautions to be taken to secure a peaceful and\norderly debate. It will be necessary also to have the subjects to be\ndiscussed plainly and definitely stated.\n\nYours, most respectfully,\nJOSEPH BARKER.\n\n18. I may now add, that the evidences which had most to do in convincing\nme of the truth and divinity of Christianity, were the internal ones. I\nwas influenced more by moral and spiritual, than by historical and\ncritical considerations. I do not think lightly of Paley's works on the\nEvidences, or of Miall's _Bases of Belief_, or of Dr. Hopkins', or Dr.\nChanning's, or Dr. Priestley's _Evidences of Christianity_; but the\nBible, and especially the story of Christ, was the principal instrument\nof my conversion. I believed first with my heart rather than my head.\nTrue, my head soon justified the belief of my heart: but my heart was\nfirst in the business. I believe in miracles; I think them of great\nimportance. I believe especially in the miracles of Christ. But that\nwhich melted my heart; that which won my infinite admiration; that which\nfilled me with unspeakable love and gratitude; that which made me a\nChristian and a Christian believer, was Christ himself. Even His\nmiracles moved me more as expressions of His love, than as proofs of His\npower. The great thing that overpowered me was the infinite excellency\nof Christ, and the wonderful adaptation of Christianity to the spiritual\nand moral, the social and physical, wants of mankind, Christ Himself is\nHis own best advocate. His life and character are His strongest claims\non our love and loyalty. And His religion, like the sun, is its own best\nevidence of its divinity. The infinite worth of the sun--the astonishing\nand infinitely varied adaptation of his light and warmth to the wants of\nevery living thing--his wonderful and beneficent effects on plants and\ntrees, on animals and man, are the strongest proofs of His Divine\noriginal. And so with Christianity, the Sun of the moral and spiritual\nworld. It proves its heavenly origin by its amazing adaptation to man's\nnature, and by its almighty tendency to promote his improvement and\nperfection; by the light, the life, the blessedness it gives; by the\nlove it kindles; by the glorious transformations which it effects in\ndepraved individuals and degenerate communities; by the peace, the hope,\nthe joy it inspires; and by the courage and strength it imparts both in\nlife and in death.\n\n19. The form in which Christianity presented itself to me, and the way\nin which it operated on my soul, may be seen from the articles I wrote\non \"Christ and His teachings,\" about the time of my conversion. They\nrefer to the doctrine of Christ with regard to a Fatherly God, and His\nloving care of His creatures. The first thing that struck me in this\ndoctrine was its beauty and tenderness. It is just the kind of doctrine\nwhich the hearts of the best of men would wish to be true. It answers to\nthe weaknesses and the wants of our nature; to the longings and\naspirations of our souls. It is full of consolation. It makes the\nuniverse complete. It makes man's life worth living. It makes the\ngreatness, the vastness, the infinitude of our intellectual and\naffectional nature a blessing. It gives peace--the peace that passes\nunderstanding. It gives joy,--the joy that is unspeakable and full of\nglory. It opens our lips in the sight of sorrow, and enables us to give\nthe sufferer consolation. It gives the universe a head. It gives it\nunity. It gives to man a Ruler. It gives to law a commanding force. It\ngives to conscience a controlling power. It makes virtue duty, while it\ngives to it fresh grandeur and beauty. It exalts it in our eyes; and it\nendears it to our hearts. And it furnishes the all-perfect example. And\nit makes reasonable the inculcation of humility and charity, of\nforbearance and forgiveness. And it dignifies the work of beneficence.\nIt makes us the allies and fellow-workers of the infinite. It makes us\none with Him. In teaching the ignorant, in bringing back the erring, in\nstrengthening the weak, in reforming the vicious, in cheering the sad,\nin blessing the world, we are working as children in fellowship with\ntheir infinite Father, and the pulses of our generous nature beat in\nharmony with the living, loving, all-pervading Spirit of the universe.\n\nAnd while it brightens the present, it gilds the future. It makes a\nblessed immortality a natural certainty. If God our Father lives, then\nwe His children shall live also. Death is abolished. Day dawns at last\non the night of the grave. Earth is our birth-place and our nursery;\ndeath is the gate-way to infinity, and there is our glorious and eternal\nhome. Our work for ever is the joyous work of doing good. Our future\nlife is an eternal unfolding, and a delightful exercise, of our highest\npowers. The mysteries of universal nature open to our view, and in the\nconfluence of the delights of knowledge and the transports of\nbenevolence, our joy is full; our bliss complete.\n\nThis doctrine, in the form in which Jesus presents it, has hold of the\nhearts of nearly the whole population of Christendom. It has the\nstrongest hold on the best. Even those who doubt it, doubt it with a\nsigh; and those who give it up, surrender it with regret. And as they\nmake the sacrifice the earth grows dark. And life grows sad. And nature\nwears the air of desolation. The music of the woods becomes less sweet.\nThe beauty of the flowers becomes less charming. There creeps a dreary\nsilence over land and sea. Existence loses more than half its charms.\nThe light of life burns dim. The past, the present, and the future all\nare cheerless. The world is one vast orphan-house. Mankind are\nfatherless. Our dearest ones are desolate. And language has no word to\ncomfort them. The lover sighs. The husband and the father weeps. The\nbravest stand aghast. The charm of life, the unmixed bliss of being, is\nno more.\n\nBut the question of questions is, Is the doctrine true? The _heart_ says\nit is, and even the intellect acknowledges that there are ten thousand\nappearances in nature which cannot be accounted for on any other\nprinciple. We cannot at present dwell on the subject; but the doctrine\nof Jesus with regard to God and immortality is the grandest and most\nconsoling, and is the most adapted to strengthen the soul to duty, and\nto cheer and support it under suffering, that the mind of man can\nconceive.\n\nAnd then as to Jesus Himself, the love and the reverence with which He\nis honored by so large a portion of the foremost nations of the earth,\nare no mistake,--no accident. They are the natural result of His worth\nand excellency. They are the natural response of the generous heart of\nhumanity, to its wisest Teacher, its loftiest Example, and its greatest\nBenefactor. The devoutest love, the liveliest gratitude, the richest\nhonors, the costliest offerings are his,--He deserves them all. And His\nname shall remain, and His fame shall spread, as long as the sun and\nmoon endure.\n\nAll nations love and adore the good. Men will even die for them. What\nwonder then that Jesus should be so loved? What wonder that so many\ntongues should praise Him, so many hearts adore Him, and so many nations\nbow before Him, and accept Him as their Lord? For He devoted Himself to\nthe service, not of a class or a nation, but of the world. The sick, the\npoor, the ignorant, the fallen; the little innocent children, the\nwronged and outcast woman, the hated Samaritan, the despised Pagan, the\nobnoxious publican, the youthful prodigal, the dying penitent, the cruel\npersecutor, all shared His love, His pity, and His prayers. He lived, He\ntaught, He died for all.\n\n20. The first Christians that invited me to preach were the Methodist\nReformers of Wolverhampton. The next were the Primitive Methodists of\nTunstall and Bilston. The Primitive Methodists at Tunstall invited me to\njoin their community, and as soon as I consistently could, I did so. I\nwas afterwards accepted as a local preacher. My labors as a preacher and\nlecturer have been mostly in connection with that community. I was\nspecially struck with the zeal, the labors, and the usefulness of the\nPrimitive Methodists while on my way from the wilds of error; and my\nintercourse with its ministers and members since I became a Christian,\nhas proved to me an unspeakable comfort and blessing. I have received\nfrom them the greatest kindness: and I pray God that I may prove a\ncomfort and a blessing to them in return.\n\n21. I had great sacrifices to make when I renounced my connection with\nthe unbelievers and became a Christian, and for some time I and my\nfamily had experience of severe trials. We had to give up our old\nbusiness, and it seemed impossible to obtain a new one, and for a time\nwe were threatened with the bitterness of want. We were unwilling to\nask a favor of any Christian party, lest our motives for embracing\nChristianity should be suspected; and at times I felt perplexed and sad.\nOne day my eldest son, seeing I was depressed, said, \"Father, dear,\ndon't be troubled. We must trust in God now. I _do_ trust in Him; and I\nam so happy to think that we are all Christians, that I can bear\nanything.\" God bless his dear good soul. We did trust in God, and He\nsustained us. He supplied our wants. He overruled all things for our\ngood. And we can now say, \"The lines have fallen to us in pleasant\nplaces; we have a goodly heritage.\"\n\n22. I have met with some unpleasantnesses since my return to Christ; but\nI am not sure that they are worth naming; and for the present they shall\nremain unnamed. I have met with many things of a very pleasant\ncharacter. Thousands that followed me into doubt have come back with me\nto Christianity. Thousands that were sinking, were saved by my\nconversion. I believe I may say thousands of unbelievers that were not\nled into doubt by me, have been redeemed from their wretchedness through\nmy example and labors. Some young ministers have been kept from rash and\nruinous steps by the story of my experience. Many believers have been\nstrengthened in their faith and encouraged in their Christian labors\nunder my sermons and lectures. Many have been benefited by my\npublications. My family has been greatly comforted and blessed. The\npower of the infidel class has been diminished. I have myself enjoyed a\nkind and a degree of happiness that I never enjoyed while the slave of\ndoubt and unbelief. And it is a great consolation to think that I was\nbrought to God while in my health and strength, and that I have now been\npermitted to spend from eleven to twelve years in the work of Christ.\nAnother great comfort is, that my circumstances are such as to enable me\nto give some proof of my devotion to the cause of Christ; of my infinite\npreference of the religion of Christ, both to the miserable philosophy\nof unbelief, and to the wretched fictions of ignorant or anti-Christian\ndivines.\n\n23. I read quite a multitude of books on my way back to Christ, and if I\nhad time, I would give some account of the influence which some of them\nmade on my mind. But I have not. It may seem strange, but I had sunk\nbelow the level of ancient Paganism, and the books which I read on my\nfirst awaking to a consciousness that I was wrong, were Pagan works. I\nread much in Plato and Aristotle, Cicero and Seneca, for a time, and\nthen in Plutarch, M. A. Antonine, and Epictetus. The works of Epictetus,\nwith the comments of Simplicius, proved exceedingly profitable. I then\nread the writings of Theodore Parker, Dr. Channing, and some of the\nworks of Dr. Priestley, and got good from all. They all helped to\ninspire me with a horror of Atheism, and to strengthen my faith in God,\nand in His boundless and eternal love. I next read a number of my own\nworks, beginning with those that were somewhat skeptical, and reading\nbackwards, to those which were Christian. I then read freely my old\ncompanions and favorites, including Hooker, Baxter, and Howe; Jeremy\nTaylor, William Law, and Bishop Butler. I read Shakespeare freely, and\nPope, and then Thomson, and Goldsmith, and Young, and Cowper, and\nTennyson, and several others of our poets. Then came the works of\nCarlyle, Burke, Penn, and Wesley; of Robert Hall, and Dr. Cooke, and Mr.\nNewton; and the writings of Paley and Grotius. I also read Guizot's\n_History of Civilization_, and those portions of Dr. Henry's _History of\nEngland_ that referred to the Church and Christianity. Still later I\nread Augustine's _Confessions_, Montalembert's _Monks of the West_, and\neverything I could find to illustrate the history of Christianity.\n\nI was delighted, transported, with many of Wesley's hymns. I found in\nthem an amount of truth, and beauty, and richness of good feeling, I had\nnever found in them before. I read many of the hymns of Watts with great\npleasure, as well as several collections of hymns and poetry by Roundell\nPalmer and others. I also read the writings of Chalmers, Whewell, and\nLord Brougham on natural theology, and the works of several other\nauthors on that subject.\n\nAt a later period I read something in Neander, Lange, and others on the\nlife of Christ. Still later I read Young's _Christ of History_, with\nRenan and _Ecce Homo_. Renan tried me very much. He seemed to write in\nthe scoffing spirit of Voltaire, and I laid the book aside before I got\nto the end. _Ecce Homo_ delighted me exceedingly. I read it a dozen\ntimes. I studied it, and it did me a great deal of good. It both\nstrengthened my faith in Christ, and increased my love to Him. Still\nlater I read _Ecce Deus_ with pleasure and profit.\n\nThe book however that did me most good was the Bible. I came to it\ncontinually, as to an overflowing fountain, and drank of its waters with\never-increasing delight.\n\n24. I began to preach before I was fit; but I never might have been fit,\nif I had not begun. I became fit by working while unfit. And my\nimperfect labors proved a blessing to many.\n\n25. There was much prejudice against me at first; but not more than I\nhad reason to expect; and it gradually gave place to confidence and kind\nfeeling. Some said I ought to remain silent a few years; but as I did\nnot know what a few years or even a few days might bring forth, I\nthought it best to speak at once. I had spoken freely enough on the\nwrong side, and I saw no reason why I should not speak as freely and at\nonce on the right side. Nor do I regret the course I took. It was the\nbest. Some that thought otherwise at first, think as I do now. For\ninstance, when Mr. Everett first heard that some of his friends had\ninvited me to preach for them, he was very angry, and said I ought never\nto speak or show my face again in public as long as I lived. In less\nthan four years he came to hear me, was much affected, shook me by the\nhand, thanked me, invited me to his house, showed me his library, and\nhis museum of Methodist antiquities and curiosities, offered me a home\nin his house, and was as kind to me as a father.\n\nI never quarrelled with people for regarding me with distrust or fear,\nthough I often checked my over-zealous friends, who were disposed to\nquarrel with all who did not regard me with the same amount of love and\nconfidence as themselves.\n\nI have never defended myself against slanderers, either by word or\nwriting, except when justice to my friends has seemed to require it.\n\nI have never complained of any disadvantages under which I have labored.\nIt is right that a man who has erred as I have, should have something\nunpleasant in his lot to remind him of his error, and render him more\ncareful and prayerful for the time to come: and there is to me a\npleasure in doing penance for my faults.\n\n26. I have never thrown the whole blame of my errors on others, nor have\nI ever seen reason to take the whole to myself. God alone is able to\ndistribute praise and blame, rewards and punishments, according to men's\ndeserts, and to Him I leave the task. At first I was disposed to be very\nsevere towards myself: but two years' experience in the religious body\nthat I first joined, of a kind of treatment resembling that of my early\ndays, satisfied me that I ought to judge myself a little more leniently.\nI would not however be unduly severe towards others. I cannot tell, when\na man does me wrong, how far he may be under the influence of\nunavoidable error, and how far he may be under the influence of a wicked\nwill. I may be able to measure the injustice of the act, but not the\nwickedness of the actor. God alone can do that. A man's treatment of me\nmay satisfy me that I ought not to place myself in his power; but cannot\njustify me in saying of him that he deserves the damnation of hell. The\nrule with regard to men's deserts is, \"Judge not, that ye be not\njudged.\"\n\n27. But when I have made the most liberal allowance for myself, and even\nwhile I feel satisfied that in my investigations my object was the\ndiscovery of truth, and that my errors were wholly unintentional, I must\nstill feel ashamed and mortified at the thought that I was so weak as to\nbe capable of such grievous errors. Even when I take into account the\nimperfection of my education, and the disadvantages of my situation, and\nall the temptations by which I was assailed, I am still ashamed and\nhumbled, and feel that my place is in the dust. But if, while prostrate,\nGod says to me, \"Arise!\" shall I resist the call? If in the exercise of\nHis love He restores to me the joys of His salvation, and bids me speak\nand labor in His cause, shall I not thankfully obey the heavenly voice?\nShall I carry my humility to the extreme of disobedience? Shall I not\nrather arise, and, with a cheerful and joyous heart, do my Saviour what\nservice I can? I will not presume to usurp the prerogative of God, even\nto judge and punish myself. I will leave myself to Him, the merciful and\nall-knowing, and He shall do with me what He sees best. I will not\nreject His mercy. I will not resist His will. Let Him do what seemeth to\nHim good, whether it be in the way of tenderness or of severity. It has\npleased Him, thus far, to mingle much compassion with His chastisements,\nand His goodness calls for gratitude and joy.\n\n28. And as I act towards God, I will act towards His people. If they\nfrown on me, I will take it patiently; but if they welcome me with\ndemonstrations of affection, I will rejoice. If they close their pulpits\nagainst me, I will say, \"Your will be done.\" If they open them to me, I\nwill enter, and, to the best of my ability, declare the counsel of God.\nA portion of God's people,--a large and most worthy portion--have\nreceived me graciously; and my duty is, and my endeavor, I trust, will\nbe, to reciprocate their love and confidence. I say with the poet:--\n\n     \"People of the living God,\n        I have sought the world around,\n      Paths of doubt and sorrow trod,\n        Peace and comfort nowhere found;\n      Now to you my spirit turns,\n        Turns, a fugitive unblest;\n      Brethren, where your altar burns\n        O receive me to your rest.\n\n     \"Lonely I no longer roam,\n        Like the cloud, the wind, the wave;\n      Where you dwell shall be my home,\n        Where you die shall be my grave;\n      Mine the God whom you adore,\n        Your Redeemer shall be mine;\n      Earth can fill my heart no more,\n        All my joys shall be divine.\"\n\n29. It seems strange that I should have been permitted to wander into\ndoubt and unbelief, and live so long under its darkness and horrors.\nThere is a mystery about it that I cannot understand. But what I know\nnot now, I may know hereafter. The mystery of Job's trial was explained\nwhen his afflictions were at an end. The mystery of my strange trial is\nstill wrapt up in darkness. True, my strange experience has not been an\nunmixed calamity. It has brought me advantages which I could not\notherwise have enjoyed. I know things which I never could have known, if\nI had always remained within the enclosures of the Church, and under the\ninfluence of Christianity. And my heart is more subdued to the will of\nGod. I am more at one with Him than I ever was before. I love Him more.\nI love Jesus more. I love His religion more. I have a clearer view and a\nfuller knowledge of its infinite worth. I have, of course, a fuller\nknowledge of the horrors of infidelity. And my faith in God and\nChristianity rests on a firmer foundation than it did in my early days.\nMany things which I once only _believed_, I now _know_. Many things for\nwhich I had formerly only the testimony of others, I now know to be true\nby my own experience. There are quite a multitude of things on which I\nhave greater certainty, and on which I can, in consequence, speak with\nmore authority than in my early days. There are, too, cases of doubt\nwhich I can meet, which formerly I could not have met. I can make more\nallowances too, than formerly, for those who are troubled with doubt, or\nensnared by error. And my preaching, in some cases, is more powerful.\nAnd I am more free from bigotry and intolerance. While I see more to\nlove and admire in the Church generally, I love _all_ hard-working\nchurches without partiality. I think less of the points on which they\ndiffer, and more of the points on which they agree. They appear to me\nmore as one church. There are many points on which I might once have\nengaged in controversy, which now appear of little or no moment. While I\nhave more zeal for God, I have more charity for men.\n\nThere are many things in Wesley's hymns, and many things in other hymns,\nwhich formerly I did not understand or appreciate, or understood and\nappreciated but very imperfectly, which now I understand more perfectly,\nand prize more highly. And so with many things in the Bible.\n\n30. And I have, at times, and have had for years, strange glimpses of\nthe magnificence and wondrousness of the universe; startling views of\nthe awful grandeur and movements of its huge orbs, and of the terrible\nworking of its great forces, and an overpowering sight and sense of the\npresence and power of the living God in all, which I never had in my\nearlier days. And I have often had, and still have, at times, strange\nfeelings of the fact and mystery of existence: of my own existence, and\nof the existence of other beings, and of God.\n\n31. And I have, at times, strange feelings with regard to the infinite\nvalue of life and consciousness, and of my intellectual and moral\npowers. And I have pleasant and wonderful thoughts and feelings with\nregard to the lower animals, as the creatures of God, my Father; and as\nmanifestations of His goodness, and wisdom, and power; and as sharers\nwith me of an infinite Father's love. And I love them as I never loved\nthem in my earlier days. I feel happier in their company. I listen with\nmore pleasure to the songs of birds, and gaze with more delight on every\nliving thing. The earth and its inhabitants are new to me. The plants\nand flowers are new. The universe is new. I am new to myself. All things\nare new. It seems, at times, as if the new, enlarged, and higher life of\nwhich I have become conscious through my strange experience, were worth\nthe fearful price which I have paid for it.\n\n32. But then again I think of the time I spent in sin and folly,--of the\nmischief I did in those dark days,--of the grief I caused to so many\ngood and godly souls,--of the sorrows I entailed on those most dear to\nme, and of the terrible disadvantages under which I labor, and under\nwhich I must always labor, in consequence of my unaccountable errors,\nand I am confounded and dismayed. But then, on the other hand, I am\nreminded that I did not sin wilfully,--that I did not err purposely or\nwantonly,--that what I did amiss I did in ignorance,--that I verily\nbelieved myself in the way of duty when I went astray,--that I was\ninfluenced by a desire to know the truth,--that I believed myself, at\nthe outset, bound as a Christian, and as a creature of God, to use my\nfaculties to the utmost in searching the Scriptures, and exploring\nNature, in pursuit of truth,--that when I advocated infidel views, I\nadvocated them believing them to be true, and believing that truth must\nbe most conducive to the virtue and happiness of mankind. True,\nappearances were against me; but I felt myself bound, even when an\nunbeliever, to \"walk by faith,\"--by faith in principles which I supposed\nmyself to have found to be true. My life, even in my worst condition,\nwas a life of self-sacrifice for what I regarded as eternal truth. When\nI gave up my belief in a Fatherly God, and my faith in a blessed\nimmortality, I believed myself to be making a sacrifice at the shrine of\ntruth. I thought I heard her voice from the infinite universe demanding\nthe surrender, and conscience compelled me to comply with the demand. I\nfelt the dreadful nature of the sacrifice, but what could I do?\n\nI remember the words I uttered, and I remember the mingled emotions\nwhich filled and agitated my soul, on that occasion. I was distressed at\nthe terrible necessity of giving up the cherished idols of my soul, yet\nI was filled for a moment with a strange delight at the thought that I\nwas doing my duty in compliance with the stern demands of eternal law,\nand the dread realities of universal being. And I hoped against hope\nthat the result would all be right.\n\nI weep when I read the strange words which I uttered on that dark and\nterrible occasion. I said to myself, \"The last remains of my religious\nfaith are gone. The doctrines of a personal God, and of a future life, I\nam compelled to regard as the offspring, not of the understanding, but\nof the imagination and affections.\" It is no easy matter to wean\none's-self from flattering and long cherished illusions. It is no easy\nmatter to believe that doctrines which have been almost universally\nreceived, and which have been so long and so generally regarded as\nessential to the virtue and happiness of mankind--doctrines, too, which\nhave mingled their mighty influences with so much of the beautiful and\nsublime in human history, and which still, to so many, form all the\npoetry and romance, almost all the interest and grandeur and blessedness\nof human life, have no foundation in truth. To persons who believe in a\nFatherly God, and in human immortality, pure naturalism is terribly\nuninviting. It was always so to me. I well remember the mingled horror\nand pity with which, when a Christian, I regarded the man who had no\npersonal God, and no hope of a future life. I remember too how I wrote\nor spoke of such. I mourned over them as the most hapless and miserable\nof all living beings. Yet I myself have come at length, by slow degrees,\nafter a thousand struggles, and with infinite reluctance, to the dread\nconclusion, that a personal God and an immortal life are fictions of the\nhuman mind. Yet existence has not quite lost its charms, nor life its\nenjoyments. There is something infinitely grand, and unspeakably\nexciting and elevating in the consciousness of having made a sacrifice\nof the most popular and bewitching of all illusions, out of respect to\ntruth. It was an enviable state of mind which prompted, the grand and\nthrilling exclamation, \"Let justice be done, though the heavens should\nfall.\" And that state of mind is no less enviable which can sustain a\nman in the sacrifice of God and immortality at the shrine of truth. Such\na sacrifice, accompanied, as it must be in the present state of society,\nwith a thousand other sacrifices of reputation, friendships, popular\npleasures, and social favor, is an exercise of the highest virtue, a\ndemonstration of the greatest magnanimity, and is accompanied or\nfollowed with an intensity of satisfaction which none but the\nmartyr-spirit of truth can conceive. It is often said by Christians,\nthat the reason why persons doubt the existence of God and a future life\nis, that they have good cause to dread them; or, as Grotius expresses\nit, that they live in such a way that it would be to their interest that\nthere should be no God or future life. This was not the case with me. My\nunbelief came upon me while I was diligently striving in all things to\ndo God's will. My virtue outlived my faith.\n\n\"Born of Methodist parents, and reared under Christian influences, and a\nChristian myself, and even a Christian minister for many years, I was\nbrought slowly and reluctantly, in spite of a world of prejudices, and\nin spite of interests and associations and tastes all but almighty in\ntheir influence, to the conclusion, that pure, unmixed Naturalism alone\naccorded with what was known of the present state and the past history\nof the universe. I say I was brought to these conclusions in spite of a\nworld of opposing influences. While a Christian, all that the world\ncould promise or bestow seemed to be within my reach. Friends,\npopularity, wealth, power, fame; and visions of infinite usefulness to\nothers, and of unbounded happiness to myself in the future, were all\npromised me as the reward of continued devotion to the cause of God and\nChristianity. As the reward of heresy and unbelief, I had to encounter\nsuspicion, desertion, hatred, reproach, persecution, want, grief of\nfriends and kindred, anxious days and sleepless nights, and almost every\nextreme of mental anguish. Still, inquiry forced me into heresy further\nand further every year, and brought me at length to the extreme of doubt\nand unbelief.\"\n\nIt was, then, in no light mood that I gave up my faith in God, and\nChrist, and immortality. The change in my views was no headlong, hasty\nfreak. It was the result of long and serious thought--of misguided, but\nhonest, conscientious study. And hence I have sometimes thought, and am\nstill inclined to think, that God had a hand in the matter--that He led\nme, or permitted me to wander, along that strange and sorrowful road,\nand to pass through those dreary and dolorous scenes, and drink so\ndeeply of so dreadful a cup of sorrow, for some good end. \"He maketh the\nwrath of man to praise Him,\" and perhaps he may turn our errors also to\ngood account. I am not disposed to believe that my life has been a\nfailure. It may, for anything I know, prove to have been a great\nsuccess. \"Men are educated largely by their mistakes,\" says one. It\nhardly seems likely that God would suffer a well-intentioned, though\nweak and erring child, to ruin either himself or others for ever. God is\ngood, and the future will justify His ways, and all His saints shall\npraise Him.\n\nMy business meanwhile is, to do what I can to promote the interests of\ntruth, and the welfare of mankind. I must, so far as possible, redeem\nlost time. I have a thousand causes for gratitude, and none for\ncomplaint. I am very happy in general; as happy as I desire to be, and\nas happy, I expect, as it is good for me to be. I sometimes feel as if\nI were _too_ happy. And I certainly never ask God to make me _more_\nhappy. I ask Him to make me wiser, and better, and more useful, but not\nmore happy. At times my cup of joy runs over. It is strange it should be\nso, yet so it is. But joy and sorrow are often found in company. Paul\nsays of himself, \"Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.\" The author of _Ecce\nDeus_ says, \"The good man's life is one unbroken repentance. Throughout\nhis life he suffers on account of his sins. What, then of joy?\" he asks:\nand he answers, \"It is contemporaneous with sorrow. They are\ninseparable. The joy that is born of sorrow is the only joy that is\nenduring.\" It may seem strange, but it is true, the last year of my life\nhas been the happiest I ever experienced.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nA FEW OF THE LESSONS I HAVE LEARNED ON MY WAY THROUGH LIFE.\n\n\nAnd now for a few of the lessons which I have learned on my way through\nlife.\n\n1. One, alas! is, that it is very difficult to bring young people to\nbenefit by the experience of their elders. It would be a happy thing if\nwe could put old men's heads on young men's shoulders; but no method of\nperforming the operation has, as yet, been hit upon. It might answer as\nwell, if old men could empty their heads into the heads of the young.\nBut this is a task almost as difficult as the former. The heads of the\nyoung are generally full of foolish thoughts, and vain conceits, and\nwild dreams of what they are to be, and do, and enjoy in the days to\ncome, with large admixtures at times of more objectionable materials; so\nthat there is no room for the counsels and admonitions of their elders.\nThen there are some who do not _like_ to be counselled or admonished.\nHaving set their minds on the attainment of a certain object, they are\nunwilling to listen to any but such as commend their course, and\nencourage them with promises of success. There are others who think\nthey have no need of counsel or admonition. Counsel and admonition are\nproper enough for some people, but they are not required in their case,\nthey imagine. They do not exactly think themselves beings of a superior\norder, beyond the reach of ordinary dangers; but they _act_ as if they\nthought so. In words they would acknowledge themselves to be but men,\nliable to the common frailties of their race; but their conduct seems to\nsay, \"It is impossible _we_ should ever err or sin as some men do; we\nare better constructed, and are born to a happier lot.\" Their purpose is\nto do right, and it never enters their minds that they can ever do\nwrong. And if you tell them that they are in danger of becoming\nintemperate, or skeptical, or of falling into any great error or sin,\nthey feel hurt, and say, \"Do you suppose we are dogs that we should do\nsuch things?\" Dogs or not, when the time of trial comes, they do them.\nAnd then they discover, that men are not always so wise, so good, or so\nstrong as they suppose themselves; that people may be the subjects of\nweaknesses of which they are utterly unconscious, till assailed by some\nunlooked for temptation; and they mourn at the last, and say, \"How have\nwe hated instruction, and despised the counsel of the Holy One.\" And now\nthey see that the strongest need a stronger one than themselves to\nshield them, and that the wisest need a wiser one than themselves to\nguide them, if they are to be kept from harm.\n\nWe have no disposition to be severe with such persons, for we belonged\nto the same unhappy class ourselves. It never once entered our minds in\nour earlier days, that we could ever fall away from Christ. We saw that\nothers were in danger, but we never supposed we were in danger\nourselves. We preached from the text, \"Let him that thinketh he\nstandeth, take heed lest he fall,\" and we pressed the solemn warning on\nour hearers with the greatest earnestness; but we never applied it to\nourselves. We supposed ourselves secure. And if any one had told us that\nwe should one day cease to be a Christian, and above all, if any man had\nsaid that we should fall into unbelief, and be ranked with the opponents\nof Christianity, we should have thought him insolent or mad. Yet we know\nwhat followed. We cannot therefore deal harshly with our too\nself-confident brethren. But we must give them faithful warning. Be on\nyour guard, my dear young friends. You are not so free from defects, nor\nso far from danger, as your conscious innocence, or the great deceiver,\nmay insinuate. There may be tendencies to evil within you, and\ntemptations in the mysterious world around you, of the character and\nforce of which you have no conception. It was as great and good a man as\nyou perhaps that said,\n\n     \"Weaker than a bruised reed,\n     Help I every moment need.\"\n\nAnd he was wise that said,--\n\n     \"Beware of Peter's words,\n       Nor confidently say,\n     'I never _will_ deny thee, Lord;'\n       But, 'Grant I never may.'\"\n\nThere are devices of the wicked one of which you are not yet aware;\n\"depths of Satan\" which you have not yet fathomed; and terrible\npossibilities of which, as yet, you have never dreamed. I say again, Be\non your guard. \"Be not high-minded, but fear.\" \"Blessed is the man that\nfeareth always.\" None are so weak as those who think themselves strong.\nNone are in such danger as those who think themselves secure.\n\nMan, even at best, is not so great, so wise, so strong, as some are\nprone to suppose: and when, cut off from Christ and His people, from the\nBible and prayer, he trusts in his own resources, he is poor, and weak,\nand frail in the extreme. There are no errors, no extravagances, no\ndepths of degradation, into which the lawless self-reliant man may not\nfall. When I had lost my faith in Christ, and had freed myself from all\nrestraints of Bible authority and Church discipline, I said to myself,\n\"I will be a MAN; all that a man acting freely, giving his soul\nfull scope, tends naturally to become; and I will be nothing else.\" I\nhad come to the conclusion that man was naturally good--that, when\nfreely and fully developed, apart from the authority of religion,\nchurches and books, he would become the perfection of wisdom, and\ngoodness, and happiness. I said to myself, \"Christ was but a man; and\nthe reason why He so much excelled all other men was, that He acted\nfreely, without regard to the traditions of the elders, the law of\nMoses, or any authority but that of His own untrammelled mind. I will\nfollow the same course. I will free myself from the prejudices of my\neducation, from the influence of my surroundings, and from the authority\nof all existing laws and religions, and be my own sole ruler, my own\nsole counsellor, my own sole guide. I will act with regard to the\nreligion of Christ, as Christ acted with regard to the religion of\nMoses; obey it, abolish it, or modify it, as its different parts may\nrequire. I will act with regard to the Church authorities of my time as\nJesus acted with regard to the Scribes and Pharisees of His day; I will\nset them aside. I will be a man; a free, self-ruled, and self-developed\nman.\"\n\nAlas, I little knew the terrible possibilities of the nature of man when\nleft to itself. I had no conception of its infinite weakness with regard\nto what is good, or its fearful capabilities with regard to what is bad.\nI had no idea of the infinite amount of evil that lay concealed in the\nhuman heart, ready, when unrepressed, to unfold itself, and take all\nhorrible forms of vice and folly. I indulged myself in my mad\nexperiments of unlimited freedom till appalled by the melancholy\nresults. I did not become _all_ that unchecked license could make me;\nbut I became so different a creature from what I had anticipated, that I\nsaw the madness of my resolution, and recoiled. I came to the verge of\nall evil. God had mercy on me and held me back in spite of my impiety,\nor I should have become a monster of iniquity. Man was not made for\nunlimited liberty. He was made for subjection to the Divine will, and\nfor obedience to God's law. He was made for fellowship with the good\namong his fellow-men, and for submission to Christian discipline. He can\nbecome good and great and happy only by faith in God and Christ, by\nself-denial, by good society, by careful moral and religious culture,\nand by constant prayer and dependence on God. I now no longer say, \"I\nwill be a _man_;\" but, \"Let me be a Christian.\" I no longer say, \"I will\nbe all that my nature, working unchecked, will make me;\" but, \"Let me\nbe all that Christ and Christianity can make me. Let me check all\ntempers at variance with the mind of Christ; and all tendencies at\nvariance with His precepts. Let the mouth of that fearful abyss which\nlies deep down in my nature be closed, and let the infernal fires that\nsmoulder there be utterly smothered; and let the love of God and the\nlove of man reign in me, producing a life of Christ-like piety and\nbeneficence. Let all I have and all I am be a sacrifice to God in\nChrist, and used in the cause of truth and righteousness for the welfare\nof mankind.\"\n\nThe enemy of man has many devices. In my case, as in the case of so many\nothers, he transformed himself into \"an angel of light.\" He did not say,\n\"Give up your work: forsake Christ; desert His Church; indulge your\nappetites; give yourself to selfish, sensual pleasure; free yourself\nfrom religious restraint, from moral control, from scruples of\nconscience, and live for gain, or fame, or power.\" On the contrary; his\ncounsel was, \"Perfect your creed; perfect your knowledge; reform the\nChurch; expose its corruptions; reform the ministry; expose its errors;\ngo back to the simplicity of Christ; return to the order of the ancient\nChurch; pay no regard to prevailing sentiments, or to established\ncustoms; begin anew. Resolve on perfection; it is attainable; be content\nwith nothing less. Assert your rights. Be true. Prove all things; hold\nfast to what is good, but cast away whatever you find to be evil. Call\nno one master but Christ; and what Christ requires, ask no one but\nyourself. Be true to your own conscience. God has called you to restore\nthe Church to its purity, to its simplicity, to its ancient power. Be\nfaithful, and fear no opposition. Free inquiry must lead to truth, and\ntruth is infinitely desirable. Assail error; assail men's inventions;\nspare nothing but what is of God. It is God's own work you are doing; it\nis the world's salvation for which you are laboring; and God's own\nSpirit will guide you, and His power will keep you from harm.\" All this\nwas true; but it was truth without the needful accompaniment of pious\ncaution. It was true, but it was truth without the needful amount of\nhumility, of meekness, of gentleness, and of self-distrust. It was\ntruth, but it was truth put in such a form as to do the work of\nfalsehood. It was an appeal to pride, to self-conceit, to\nself-sufficiency. It was truth presented in such a shape, as to abate\nthe sense of my dependence on God; as to make me forgetful of my own\nimperfections; as to exclude from my mind all thoughts of danger, and so\nprepare me for mistakes, mishaps, and ultimately ruin. It is not enough\nto aim at good objects: we must be humble; we must be sensible that our\nsufficiency is of God; we must be conscious of our own weakness, of our\nown imperfections, and of our own danger, and move with care, and\nwatchfulness, and prayer. We must not please ourselves with thoughts of\nthe wonders we will achieve, of the services we will render to the\nworld, and of the honor we shall gain; but cherish the feeling that God\nis all, and be content that He alone shall be glorified. We are but\nearthen vessels; the excellency of the power is of God.\n\nO my poor soul, how do I grieve when I think of thy early dreams, and of\nthy sad awakening. Like Adam, I lived in a Paradise of bliss, suspecting\nno evil, and dreading no change. I had been trained to piety from my\nearliest years. The Bible was my delight. Christ and Christianity were\nmy glory and joy. The Church was my home. To preach the Gospel, to\ndefend God's cause, and to labor for the salvation of the world, were\nthe delight of my life. I was successful. I was popular. I had many\nfriends, and was passionately beloved. Wherever I went, men hailed me as\ntheir spiritual father. The chapels in which I preached were crowded to\ntheir utmost capacity, and men regarded me as the champion of\nChristianity. They applauded my labors in its behalf, and testified\ntheir esteem and admiration by unmistakable signs. At one time I might\nhave applied to myself the words of Job, \"When the ear heard me, then it\nblessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me. The young\nmen saw me, and gave me reverence; and the aged arose and stood up. Unto\nme men gave ear, and waited; and kept silence at my counsel. They waited\nfor my words as for the showers; and opened their mouths as for the\nlatter rain. I chose out their way, and sat chief, and dwelt as a king\nin the army, as one that comforteth the mourners.\" And everything\nseemed to foretell a continuance of my happy lot. My prejudices and my\nconvictions, my tastes and my affections, my habits and my inclinations,\nmy interests and my family, all joined to bind me to the cause of Christ\nby the strongest bonds. And I seemed as secure to others as to myself.\nHence I looked forward to a life of ever-increasing usefulness,\nreflecting credit on my family and friends, and conferring blessings on\nmankind at large. I revelled in hopes of a reformed Church, and a\nregenerated world; and, passing the bounds of time, my spirit exulted in\nthe prospect of a glorious immortality. Yet \"when I looked for good then\nevil came; and when I waited for light there came darkness.\" I fell\naway. My happy thoughts, my joyous hopes, my delightful prospects, all\nvanished. I underwent a most melancholy transformation. The eyes that\ngazed on me with affectionate rapture, now stared at me with affright\nand terror; and brave, stout men wept over me like children. The light\nof my life was extinguished. My dwelling was in darkness. \"I was a\nbrother to dragons, and a companion to owls.\" And there was nothing\nbefore me but the dreary prospect of a return to nothingness. And can\nyou, my young friends, dream of safety with facts like these in view?\nAgain, I say, be on your guard. An easy, dreamy self-security is the\nextreme of madness. Our only safety is in watchfulness and prayer. Our\nonly sufficiency is of God.\n\n     \"O, never suffer me to sleep\n       Secure within the reach of hell;\n     But still my watchful spirit keep\n       In lowly awe and loving zeal:\n     And bless me with a godly fear,\n     And plant that guardian angel here.\"\n\n2. The second lesson I would name is this: It is dangerous to allow bad\nfeeling to get into your hearts towards your Christian friends, or your\nbrother ministers. It is especially dangerous to allow it to remain\nthere. It works like the infection of the plague. Try therefore to keep\nyour minds in a calm and comfortable state towards all with whom you\nhave to do. Guard against rash judgments and groundless suspicions; or\nyou may take offence when no offence is meant. But even when people do\nyou harm on purpose, it is best to be forbearing. We never know the\nforce of temptation under which men act; or the misconceptions under\nwhich they labor. We may ourselves have caused their misdoings by some\nunconscious error of our own. It is well to suspect ourselves sometimes\nof unknown faults, and to go on the supposition that what appears\nunkindness in others towards us, may be the result of some unguarded\nword or inconsiderate action on our part towards them. 2. Keep your\nhearts as full as possible of Christian love. The more abundant your\nlove, the less will be your liability either to give or take offence. 3.\nAnd do not overrate the importance of men's misconduct towards you. We\nare not so much in the power of others as we are prone to imagine. The\nworld is governed by God, and no one can hurt us against His will. Do\nthat which is right, and you and your interests are secure. So take\nthings comfortably. And try to overcome evil with good. And if you find\nthe task a hard one, seek help from God.\n\n3. Another lesson which I have learned on my way through life is, that\nit is dangerous to indulge a spirit of controversy. There may be\noccasions when controversy is a duty; but it is best, as a rule, just to\nstate what you believe to be the truth, and leave it to work its way in\nsilence. If people oppose it, misrepresent it, or ridicule it, then\nstate it again at the proper time, with becoming meekness and\ngentleness, and then commit it to the care of its great Patron. It is\ndifficult to run into controversy without falling into sin. Men need to\nbe very wise and good to be able to go through a controversy honorably\nand usefully; and by the time they are qualified for the dangerous work,\nthey prefer more peaceful employment. Controversy always tends to\nproduce excess of warmth, and warmth of a dangerous kind. It often\ndegenerates into a quarrel, and ends in shame. Men go from principles to\npersonalities; and instead of seeking each other's instruction, try only\nto humble and mortify each other. They begin perhaps with a love of\ntruth, but they end with a struggle for victory. They try to deal fairly\nat the outset, but become unscrupulous at last, and say or do anything\nthat seems likely to harass or injure their opponents. The beginning of\nstrife is like the letting out of water from a reservoir; there is first\na drop, then a trickle, then a headlong rushing torrent, bearing down\nall before it, and sweeping away men and their works to destruction. It\nis best, therefore, to take the advice of the proverb, and \"leave off\ncontention before it be meddled with.\"\n\n4. Another lesson that I have learnt on my way through life is, that\nministers should deal very tenderly with their younger brethren. They\nshould teach them, so far as they are able, and check them when they see\nthem doing anything really wrong; but they should never interfere\nneedlessly with their spiritual freedom. Young men of mind and\nconscience _will_ think. They will test their creeds by the Sacred\nOracles, and endeavor to bring them into harmony with the teachings of\nChrist and His Apostles. And it is right they should. It is their duty,\nas they have opportunity, to \"prove all things.\" And few young men, of\nany considerable powers, can compare the creeds which they receive in\ntheir childhood with the teachings of Sacred Scripture, without coming\nto the conclusion, that on some points they are erroneous, and on others\ndefective; that on some subjects they contain too much, and on others\ntoo little. And good young men will naturally feel disposed to lay aside\nwhat they regard as erroneous, and to accept what presents itself to\ntheir minds as true. In some cases they will make mistakes. The only men\nthat never think wrong, are those who never think at all. There never\nwas a child born into the world that learned to walk without stumbling\noccasionally, and at times even falling outright. And there never was a\nspiritual child that learned to travel in the paths of religious\ninvestigation, without falling at times into error. But what is to be\ndone on such occasions? What does the mother do when her baby falls?\nDoes she run and kick the poor little creature, and say, \"You naughty,\ndirty tike, if ever you try to walk again, I will throw you into the\ngutter?\" On the contrary, she runs and catches up the dear little thing;\nand if it has hurt itself, she kisses the place to make it well, and\nsays, \"Try again, my darling; try again.\" And it _does_ try again: and\nin course of time it learns to walk as steadily as its mother; and when\nshe begins to stagger under the infirmities of age, it takes her hand,\nand steadies her goings.\n\nAnd so it should be in spiritual matters. When a good young man falls\ninto error, we should treat him with the tenderness and affection of a\nmother. \"We were gentle among you,\" says Paul to the Thessalonians,\n\"even as a nurse cherisheth her children.\" And this is the example that\nwe should follow towards our younger brethren. Whether we would keep\nthem from erring, or bring them back when they go astray, we should\ntreat them tenderly.... We should try to win their love and confidence.\nMen can often be led, when they cannot be driven. There are numbers who,\nif you attempt to drive them, will run the contrary way; who, if you\ntreat them with respect, and show them that you love them, will follow\nyou where-ever you may go.\n\nBut you must give them time. They cannot always come right all at once.\nWhen a fisherman angles for large fish, he provides himself with a\nflexible, elastic rod, and a good long length of line; and when he has\nhooked his prey, he gives it the line without stint, and allows it to\ndart to and fro, and plunge and flounder at pleasure, till it has tired\nitself well, and then he brings it to the bank with ease. If he were to\nattempt to drag the fish to the shore at once, by main force, it would\nsnap his rod, or break his line, and get away into the deep; and he\nwould lose both his fish and his tackle. And so it is in the world of\nmind. When we have to do with vigorous and active-minded young men, we\nmust allow their intellects a little play. We must wait till they begin\nto feel their weakness. We must place a little confidence in them, and\ngive them a chance both of finding out their deficiencies, and of\ndeveloping their strength.\n\nIt would not be amiss if elder preachers could go on the supposition\nthat they are not quite perfect or infallible themselves,--that it is\npossible that their brethren may discover some truth in Scripture, that\nhas not yet found its way into their creed; or detect some error in\ntheir creed, that has lurked there unsuspected for ages. And they ought\nto be willing to learn, as well as disposed to teach.\n\nBut in any case, if our studious young brethren miss their way\nsometimes, we must be kind and gentle towards them, and in our endeavors\nto save them, must proceed with care. Deal harshly with them, and you\ndrive them into heresy or unbelief. Deal gently and lovingly with them,\nand you bring them back to the truth. How often the disciples of Jesus\nerred with regard to the nature of His kingdom, and the means by which\nit was to be established. Yet how patiently He bore with them. And in\nthis, as in other things, He has left us an example that we should tread\nin His steps. The sun keeps the planets within their spheres, and even\nbrings back the comets from their far-off wanderings, by the gentle\npower of attraction. And the Sun of Righteousness keeps His spiritual\nplanets in their orbits, and brings from the blackness of darkness the\nstars that wander, by the same sweet power. And the secondary lights of\nthe world must keep their satellites in their orbits, and bring back to\ntheir spheres the stars that fall or lose their way, by kindred\ninfluences. The mightiest and divinest power in the universe is\nLOVE.\n\n5. And now comes a lesson to the young thinkers. Suppose your elder\nbrethren should treat you unkindly; suppose they should discourage your\nsearch after truth, and require you to conform your creed to their own\nideas, and your way of speaking to their own old style of expression;\nsuppose that they should look with suspicion on your endeavors to come\nnearer to the truth, and, whenever you give utterance to a thought or an\nexpression at variance with their own, should denounce you as heretics,\nand threaten you with excommunication, what should you do?\n\nWe answer, go quietly on in the fear of the Lord. Make no complaint, but\nprepare yourselves for expulsion. When expelled, go quietly to some\nChurch that can tolerate your freedom, and work there in peace as the\nservants of God. Cherish no resentment. Commit your cause to God, and,\nlaboring to do His will, leave Him to choose your lot.\n\nEven the trials that come from the ignorance or wickedness of men, are\nof God's appointment. We are taught that it was by God's ordination\nthat Judas betrayed Christ; that God employed the wickedness of the\ntraitor for the accomplishment of His great designs. David said,\nreferring to Shimei, \"Let him curse, for God hath commanded him.\" God\nemployed the wickedness of Shimei, to try and punish David. Wesley has\nembodied the sentiment in one of his hymns, as follows:\n\n     \"Lord, I adore Thy gracious will;\n     Through every instrument of ill\n       My Father's goodness see:\n     Accept the complicated wrong\n     Of Shimei's hand, and Shimei's tongue,\n       As kind rebukes from Thee.\"\n\nJoseph said, God had sent him down to Egypt to save many souls alive.\nHis wicked brethren were only the instruments of his banishment. _They_\nmeant it for _evil_, _God_ turned it to _good_. And so in your case: God\nmay be using the ignorance or the wickedness of your persecutors to\nseparate you from a body for which you are not fitted, and to place you\nin one where you will be more useful and more happy. When we do right,\nGod will make the errors, and even the sins of our enemies, work for our\ngood.\n\n6. Another lesson which I have thoroughly learnt is, that though men may\nbecome unbelievers through other causes than vice, they cannot continue\nunbelievers without spiritual and moral loss. The inevitable tendency of\ninfidelity is to debase men's souls. And here I speak not on the\ntestimony of others merely, but from extensive observation and personal\nexperience. I have known numbers whom infidelity has degraded, but none\nwhom it has elevated. We do not say that every change in a Christian's\nbelief is demoralizing. Disbelief in error, resulting from increase of\nknowledge, may improve his character; but the loss of faith in Christ,\nand God, and immortality, can never do otherwise than strengthen a man's\ntendencies to vice, and weaken his inclinations towards virtue. When\ninfidels say that their unbelief has made them more virtuous, they\nattach different ideas to the word virtuous from those which Christians\nattach to it. They call evil good, and good evil. The secularists call\nfornication and adultery virtue. But this is fraud. That infidelity is\nunfavorable to what men generally call virtue, and friendly to what men\ngenerally call vice, infidels themselves know. Their passions and\nprejudices may make them doubt the bad influence of their unbelief for a\ntime, but not long. I myself questioned the downward tendency of\ninfidelity in my own case for a time, but facts proved too strong for me\nin the end. My friends could see a deterioration both in my temper and\nconduct. And there was a falling off in my zeal and labors for the good\nof mankind from the first. There was a falling off even in my talents.\nThere was a greater tendency to self-indulgence. It was owing to the\nstill lingering influence of my early faith, and of my early Christian\ntastes and habits, that I was no worse. The virtue which I retained I\nowed to the religion on which I had unhappily turned my back. When\nunbelievers are moral, they are so, not in consequence, but in spite of\ntheir unbelief. When Christian believers are bad, they are so, not in\nconsequence, but in spite of their religion. Infidelity tends to destroy\nconscience. It annihilates the great motives to virtue. It strengthens\nthe selfish and weakens the benevolent affections and tendencies of our\nnature, and smoothes the road to utter depravity. The farther men wander\nfrom Christ, and the longer they remain away, the nearer they approach\nto utter degeneracy.\n\nIt seldom happens that men who have lived long under the influence of\nChristianity, become grossly immoral as soon as they lose their faith:\nbut they decline in virtue from the first, and utter depravation comes\nin time. I have seen a tree growing prostrate on the ground, when many\nof its roots had been torn up from the soil; but it grew very poorly;\nand the growth it made was owing to the hold which the remainder of its\nroots still had on the soil. The branch that is cut off from the tree\nmay retain a portion of its sap, and show some signs of languishing life\nfor weeks; but it dies at length. And so with the branches cut off from\nthe spiritual vine; they gradually wither and decay. The iron taken\nwhite hot from the furnace, does not get cool at once; but it gradually\ncomes down to the temperature of the atmosphere with which it is\nsurrounded. The prodigal did not get through his share of his father's\nproperty in a day, but he found himself perishing of hunger at length. A\nman does not die the moment he ceases to eat, but he _will_ die if he\n_persists_ in his abstinence. A man may live in an unhealthy district,\nand breathe unwholesome air for some time, without apparent injury; but\ndisease will show itself in the end. It is not uncharitableness that\nmakes us speak thus, but charity itself. It is desirable, that both\nbelievers and unbelievers should know the truth on this important\nsubject. Infidelity is the enemy of all virtue, and consequently of all\nhappiness; and it is necessary that this should be generally and\nthoroughly known, and that the old-fashioned prejudice against it should\nbe allowed to keep its ground, and remain as strong as ever. And\nChristians must show their charity towards unbelievers, not by abating\nmen's horror of infidelity, but by endeavoring to deliver them from its\ndeadly power.\n\n7. And here comes another lesson. Do not suppose that unbelievers are\nirreclaimable. There is always good ground to hope for the conversion of\nthose unbelievers who retain a respect for virtue, if they are properly\ntreated; and even those who are sunk in vice should not be abandoned in\ndespair. Several of those who have returned to Christ during the last\nten years, were men who had gone far in various forms of wickedness. And\nmany of those converts from infidelity of whom we read in old religious\nbooks, were persons of immoral character. And though habits of vice are\nnot easily broken off, yet the miseries they entail on men may rouse\nthem to more vigorous efforts for their deliverance. And it sometimes\nhappens that those who are poor in promise, are rich in performance. You\nremember the Saviour's parable of the two sons. The Father said to the\nfirst, \"Son, go work to-day in my vineyard.\" And he answered and said,\n\"I will not,\" but afterwards he repented and went. And the father said\nto the second, \"Go.\" And he answered and said, \"I go, Sir,\" and went\nnot. And this, said Christ, is what takes place between Me and mankind.\nI say to the fair-seeming people, \"Give yourselves to God;\" and they\nanswer, \"We will, Lord,\" but still live on in selfishness and sin. I\nsay to abandoned profligates, \"Give yourselves to God;\" and they answer,\n\"We will not;\" but on thinking the matter over, they repent and live to\nGod. Harlots and publicans enter the kingdom of God, while scribes and\npharisees remain without. The oyster, if you look at its outward\ncovering, is a \"hard case;\" yet within, it is soft and tender in the\nextreme. The ugliest caterpillar is but an undeveloped butterfly, and in\ntime, if placed under favorable influences, may leave its crawling, and\nmount aloft on wings of gold and silver. And it often happens that the\nworst children make the best men. The fiercest persecutor of the early\nChurch became the chief of the Apostles. He was honest when dragging the\nsaints to prison; and all that was wanted to make him a preacher of the\nfaith which he labored so madly to destroy, was LIGHT.\n\nAnd so it is still. Some of the most unhappy and unpromising of men and\nwomen may require but a gentle word, a glimmer of light, or a\nmanifestation of your kind concern for their welfare, to win their\nhearts to God. It does not appear that any of the early Christians\nsupposed that there was anything good in the heart of Saul the\npersecutor, and nothing is said of any attempt on their part to convince\nhim of his error. And many, even when they heard he was converted, could\nnot believe the story. And even Ananias, when told by God Himself that\nthe converted persecutor was praying, could not get over his fears and\nsuspicions all at once. When God said, \"Go, and help the poor man,\"\nAnanias answered, \"Lord, I have heard by many of this man, how much evil\nhe hath done to Thy saints at Jerusalem.\" But the Lord said unto him,\n\"Go thy way, haste to his help, for he is a chosen vessel unto Me, to\nbear My name before the Gentiles, and to kings, and to the children of\nIsrael.\" At last Ananias went his way, and visited the praying penitent.\nBut even after this, when Paul had been preaching for some time with\ngreat success, and had made the greatest sacrifices, and braved even\ndeath itself, in the cause of Christ, there were numbers who doubted his\nsincerity. \"When he went to Jerusalem, and attempted to join himself to\nthe disciples, they were all afraid of him, and did not believe that he\n_was_ a disciple.\" Barnabas however, good man, took him by the hand, and\nsucceeded at length in obtaining for him, to some extent, the advantages\nof Church fellowship.\n\nHere then we have a couple of lessons; the first is, to seek the\nconversion of unbelievers; the second is, to guard against an excess of\nskepticism in ourselves with regard to the sincerity of those who appear\nto be converted. It would be well in forming our judgments of persons\nprofessing religion, to follow the rule laid down by Christ, \"By their\nfruits ye shall know them. A good tree cannot bring forth bad fruit, nor\na bad tree good fruit.\" If men live soberly, righteously, and godly--if\nthey make great sacrifices, and incur reproach and persecution for\nChrist, and labor zealously in His cause, it is no great stretch of\ncharity to go on the supposition, that their profession of faith in God\nand Christ is sincere.\n\n8. But suppose the churches should treat a convert from infidelity as\nthe church at Jerusalem treated Paul, what should he do? We would say,\nTake all quietly, and go zealously on with your work. You are the\nservant of God, and not of man; and you must not desert your Master,\nbecause a number of His servants err in their judgment of you, or show,\nin their conduct towards you, a lack of charity. Serve your Redeemer all\nthe more faithfully. This was the course which Paul took. He \"increased\nthe more in strength;\" and he abounded the more in labors. It would be a\npoor excuse for the neglect of your duty to God and Christ, to\nyourselves and your fellow creatures, to say, \"The churches did not\ntreat us as kindly as they ought; they doubted our sincerity.\" Such\nconduct would not only be exceedingly wicked, but extremely foolish. It\nwould be the surest way to confirm the doubts of the churches, and make\nthem feel, that in treating you coldly, they had acted wisely. The\nsurest way to gain the confidence of the Church, is not to care too much\nabout it. If you show that you are satisfied with the favor of God, and\nwith your own sweet consciousness of the happy change you have\nexperienced, everything else will come in its season. Goodness will draw\nafter it the reputation of goodness. The shadow will follow the\nsubstance. And whether it does or not, your duty is to be resigned and\ncheerful. A man that has really been converted from infidelity to\nChristianity, will be so happy, and will feel so thankful for the\nblessed change, if he appreciates it as he ought, that he will hardly\ncare whether he has the favor and confidence of his brethren or not.\nThere is no intimation that the returned Prodigal looked black at his\nfather, and threatened to go back again into the far country, because\nhis elder brother refused to join in his welcome home. The probability\nis, that he felt so ashamed of his sin and folly, so overpowered with\nthe tenderness of his father, and so happy to find himself at home\nagain, that he never inquired whether other people were satisfied or\nnot. The father noticed the unhappiness of his elder son, and sought to\nsoothe and comfort him; but the younger son was occupied with other\nthoughts; and having suffered long the grievous pangs of hunger, he\nwould, for a time at least, be busy at the table, speculating in\nraptures, it may be, on the difference between the flesh of \"the fatted\ncalf,\" and \"the husks that the swine did eat.\"\n\nIt is, in one respect, an advantage to the converted unbeliever to be\ntreated by the Church with shyness. It affords him an opportunity of\nproving his attachment to Christ and Christianity, in a way in which he\ncould not prove it, if every one welcomed him with demonstrations of\naffection, and signs of joy. None are so slow to believe in the\nsincerity of a converted infidel as infidels themselves; and to be able\nto give to his old associates a proof so decisive of the genuineness of\nhis change, and of the value he puts on Christianity, will be regarded\nby the convert as a privilege of no light value. And it is fit and\nproper, as well as better for the convert, that he should be reminded of\nhis former weakness, and incited to watchfulness and humility, by the\npain of some kind of life-long disadvantage.\n\n9. Let no one expect to get through the world without trouble. The thing\nis not possible. Nor is it desirable. We _need_ a little trouble now and\nthen to keep us awake; and God will take care that we have it. We had\nbetter therefore look for it, and when it comes, bear it patiently. It\nis no use fretting or fuming; it only makes things worse. When we are\nrestless under little troubles, God sends us greater ones; and if our\nimpatience continues, he sends us greater still. And there is no remedy.\nAn eel may wriggle itself \"out of the frying-pan, into the fire;\" but it\ncannot wriggle itself back again out of the fire, even into the\nfrying-pan. And so it is with us. We may wriggle ourselves out of one\nlittle trouble, into two greater ones; but we cannot wriggle ourselves\nback again out of the two greater ones, into the little one. The longer\nwe resist the will of God, the worse we shall fare. We had better\ntherefore bear the ills we have, than plunge into others that we know\nnot of. It is best to submit at once. If we were wise we should say with\nthe Redeemer, \"The cup that My Father giveth me, shall I not drink it?\"\nGod knows what is best for us, and He will never inflict on us a pang\nwhich He does not see to be necessary to our usefulness and welfare. It\nis not for His own pleasure that He afflicts us, but for our profit,\nthat we may be partakers of His holiness.\n\nAnd sorrow is the seed of joy. And pain adds to the sweetness of our\npleasures. Hunger sweetens our food, and thirst our drink, and weariness\nour moments of rest; and \"our light afflictions, which are but for a\nmoment, work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of\nglory.\"\n\nWe are quite mistaken when we look at our trials as unmixed evils. They\n\"are blessings in disguise.\" The dripping clouds which hide the sun,\nenrich the earth. The difficulties with which we have to contend,\nincrease our strength. The tail of the kite, which seems to pull it\ndown, helps it to rise. And the afflictions, which seem to press us to\nthe ground, help to raise us to heaven.\n\nLet us take our lot with meekness then, and learn in all things to say\nto our Heavenly Father, \"Thy will be done.\"\n\n10. Join the Church. The Church is an institution of Heaven, and\nconnection with it is necessary to your spiritual safety. Some think\nthey can stand alone; but when they make the attempt, they fall. No one\ncan stand, who does not use the means which God has given him for his\nsupport; and one of those means is fellowship with the Church. Without\ncivil society men gradually sink into barbarism; and without religious\nsociety Christians sink into earthliness and impiety.\n\nSome of the sweetest and most beautiful of our flowering shrubs, and\nsome of the richest of our fruit-bearing trees, are unable to raise\nthemselves from the ground without the assistance of their stronger\nkindred. This is the case with the honeysuckle, the ivy, and the grape\nvine. Left to themselves on the open plain, they sprawl upon the ground,\nchoked with the grass, and cropped and trampled on by beasts, until at\nlength they perish. But placed in woods or hedgerows, they clasp with\ntheir living tendrils, or embrace with their whole bodies, their\nvigorous neighbors, climb to the light and sunshine by their aid,\ndisplay their blossoms, and bear their rich delicious fruit in full\nperfection. And we are like these trees. We must have support from\nothers, or perish.\n\nThis is not all. Even the stoutest and strongest trees, such as the oak,\nthe ash, and the sycamore, do best in company. Plant those trees in\ngroves, and guard them from the crushing steps and greedy maws of\ncattle, and they grow up tall, and straight, and smooth. They shield\neach other from the stormy winds, and they show a sort of silent\nemulation, each raising its head as high as possible, to catch the\nfreshest air and the fullest streams of light. But plant one of those\ntrees alone in the open field, and leave it unfenced and unguarded, and\nthe probability is, it will perish. If it should escape destruction, its\ngrowth will be retarded, and its form will be disfigured. It will have\nneither size nor comeliness. It will be cropped by the cattle, and bent\nand twisted by the winds; it will be stunted and dwarfed, crooked and\nmis-shapen, knotted and gnarled, neither pleasant to the eye, nor good\nfor timber. Not one in a thousand would ever become a tall, a straight,\nand a majestic tree.\n\nMr. Darwin says, that on some large tracts on which, while they were\nunenclosed and unprotected, there was not a tree to be seen, there soon\nappeared, after the land was enclosed by a fence, a countless multitude\nof fine Scotch firs. The seeds of these trees had been sown by some\nmeans, and they had germinated, and the embryo trees had sprung up; but\nthe cattle had cropped the tender shoots, or crushed and trampled them\ndown, and not one had been able to raise its head above the grass or\nheather. On looking down and searching carefully among the heather, he\nfound in one square yard of ground, no fewer than thirty-two small\ntrees, one of which had been vainly trying to raise its head above the\nheather for six and twenty years. After this tract of land had been\nenclosed for awhile, it was covered thick with a countless multitude of\nfine young trees. And so it is with Christians. Leave them in the open\ncommon of the world, and they gradually come down to a level with the\ntastes and manners of the world. Place them within the guarded\nenclosures of the Church, and they rise to the dignity and glory of\nsaints. \"He that walketh with wise men shall be wise; but a companion of\nfools shall be destroyed.\" Hence \"the Lord added to the Church daily\nsuch as should be saved.\"\n\nWhen you get into the Church, stay there as long as you honestly can;\nand honor it by a truly Christian life; and aid it by your labors; and\nsupport it liberally with your money. The best spent money in the world\nis that which is employed in promoting the spread of Christianity. And\ntry to live in peace both with your pastor and your fellow-members. Obey\nthe rules. Do not dream of unlimited liberty; you cannot have it; and it\nwould do you no good if you could, but harm. And unlimited liberty for\none, would be slavery or martyrdom for the rest. Judge the Church and\nyour pastors charitably, as you would like to be judged yourself. Expect\nto find imperfections in them, and make as much allowance for them as\nyou can, that they may be led to make allowances for the imperfections\nthey find in you. Look more at the good that is in your brethren than at\nthe evil; it will cause you to love them the more, and make you feel\nhappier in their company. If any of them be overtaken in a fault, try to\nrestore them, in the spirit of meekness. And let the mishaps of your\nbrethren remind you that _you_ too are exposed to temptation.\n\nCalculate on meeting with trials or unpleasantnesses in the Church\noccasionally; for offences are sure to come. Churches are made up of\nmen, and men are full of imperfections, so that misunderstandings, and\neven misdoings at times, are inevitable. You may be misjudged or\nundervalued. There will be differences of tastes and opinions, and even\nclashings of interest, between you and your brethren. And trials may\ncome from quarters from which you could never have expected them, and of\na kind that you could not possibly anticipate. But make up your minds,\nby the help of God, to bear all patiently. Remember how God has borne\nwith you; and consider what Jesus suffered from the weaknesses, the\nerrors, and the sins of men; and how meekly and patiently He endured.\n\nAnd understand that others may have to bear with as many\nunpleasantnesses from you, as you have to bear with from them. You may\nmisunderstand or undervalue others, as much as they misunderstand or\nundervalue you. And others may be as much disappointed in you, as you\nare in them. And you may try their patience, as much as they try yours.\nWe know when we are hurt by others, but we do not always know when\nothers are hurt by us. And we can see the defects of others, when we\ncannot see our own. And we should consider, that _they_ will know when\nthey are hurt by us, when they may not know that we are hurt by them;\nand that _they_ will be able to see our imperfections, when they will be\nquite unconscious of their own. And if we would not have them to make\ntoo much of _our_ defects and blunders, we must not make too much of\n_theirs_. If they can bear with _us_, we must learn to bear with _them_,\nand think ourselves well off to have things settled so. If we could see\nourselves as God sees us, we might be more astonished that others should\nbe able to bear with us, than that we should be required to bear with\nthem.\n\nAnd the trials we meet with in the Church will do us good, if we look at\nthem in a proper light, and receive them in a proper spirit. They will\nreveal to us the defects of our brethren, and draw us to labor for their\nimprovement. And in laboring for the improvement of others, we shall\nimprove ourselves.\n\nAnd the unpleasant friction which takes place between us and our\nbrethren, will only tend to smoothe the ruggedness of our temper, and\nrub off the unevennesses of our character, provided we can keep\nourselves from impatience and resentment. In going along the course of a\nbrook or a river, you sometimes come upon a bend, where you find a heap\nof smooth and nicely rounded pebble stones thrown up. Did you ever ask\nyourselves how these pebbles came to be so round and smooth? When broken\noff from their respective rocks, they were as irregular in form, they\nhad as sharp corners, and as rough, and ragged, and jagged edges, and\nwere altogether as ugly and unsightly things as any fragments of rocks\nyou ever looked upon. But they got into the water, and the stream rolled\nthem along, and rubbed them gently one against another, and this was the\nway they came to be so round and smooth. There is no doubt, that if the\nstones could have talked, and if they had had no more sense than we\nhave, whenever they found that their neighbor stones were rubbing them,\nthey would have screamed out, \"Oh! how you scratch;\" never dreaming that\nthey were scratching the other stones just as much at the same time. But\nfortunately the stones could not talk; and though they had not so much\nsense as we have, they had less nonsense, and that served them as\nwell--so they took their rubbing quietly; and hence the smoothness of\ntheir surface, and the beauty of their shape. Now here we are, living\nstones in the great stream of time, tumbled about and rubbed one against\nanother. Let us take our rubbing patiently, and give ourselves a chance\nof getting rid of our unevennesses, and of being brought to a comely\nshape. Have patience, my friends. The trouble will not continue long.\nWhen we have got our proper shape, God will remove us to our proper\nplaces in that living temple which He is building in the heavens, and\nour rubbing will be at an end for ever.\n\nWhen I was first invited by the Primitive Methodists of Tunstall to\npreach in their chapel, one of the class-leaders and local preachers in\nthe circuit threw up his plan, and sent in his class-book, saying he\nwould not belong to a society that would allow Joseph Barker to preach\nin their pulpits. He was under a wrong impression with regard to my\nviews. One of the Tunstall travelling preachers went to see him, and\ntold him that he was laboring under a mistake, and advised him to take\nback his class-book and plan. \"Come,\" said he, \"and have a little talk\nwith Mr. Barker.\" He came, and found he had been mistaken. \"Forgive\nme,\" said he. \"I cannot,\" said I; \"you have committed no offence. I will\nsave my pardons till you do something really wicked.\" \"Then let us\npray,\" said he; and we knelt down, and prayed for one another, and we\nall felt better. He came that night to hear me lecture. The subject was\nTHE CHURCH. I spoke of the unpleasantnesses with which we\nsometimes meet from our brethren, and while exhorting my hearers to take\ntheir trials patiently, I used the illustration I have given here. The\nold man sat on my left in the front of the gallery, and was much\nexcited. He wept. At length, unable any longer to restrain his feelings,\nhe cried aloud, \"Glory; Hallelujah; I'll stop and be rubbed.\" He did\nstop. But he had not much more rubbing to endure. In less than twelve\nmonths, on retiring one night to rest, in his usual health, he passed\naway suddenly, and peacefully, to his rest in heaven. Let us \"stop and\nbe rubbed.\" Better be rubbed in the Church, than thrown out into the\nbroad highway of the world, and broken with the strong man's hammer.\n\n11. And now with regard to reform. It is right that we should be\nreformers. There are plenty of evils both in the Church and the State,\nas well as in individuals, and it is our duty to do what we can to abate\nor cure them. But there is a right and a wrong way of going about the\nbusiness, and if we would avoid doing mischief while we are trying to do\ngood, we must proceed with care.\n\nReformers must learn to wait as well as to work. You cannot make\nchurches, or states, or even individuals, all that you would like them\nto be, in a moment. You cannot make yourselves what you would like to be\nas quickly as you would wish. If you are like a man that I know, you\nwill find the improvement of your own habits, and tempers, and manners,\na task for life. And if the change for the better is so slow in\nyourselves, whom you have in your hands continually, and with whom you\ncan take what liberties you please, what can you expect it to be in\nothers? It is the law of God that things shall pass from bad to good,\nand from better to best, by slow and almost imperceptible gradations.\n\nAll the great and beneficent operations of Nature are silent and slow.\nNothing starts suddenly into being; nothing arrives instantly at\nperfection; nothing falls instantly into decay. The germination of the\nseed, the growth of the plant, the swelling of the bud, the opening of\nthe flower, the ripening of the fruit, are all the results of slow and\nsilent operations. Still slower is the growth of the majestic forest.\nAnd the trees of greatest worth, which supply us with our choicest and\nmost durable timber, have the slowest growth of all. And so it is with\nthings that live and move. Their growth is silent as the grave. And man,\nthe highest of created beings, advances to maturity most tardily of all.\nOur development is so gradual, that the changes we undergo from day to\nday are imperceptible. And the development of our minds is as gradual as\nthe growth of our bodies. We gather our knowledge a thought, a fact, a\nlesson at a time. We form our character, a line, a trace, a touch a day.\n\nSociety is subject to the same law. Churches and nations are collections\nof individuals, each changing slowly, and must therefore themselves\nchange more slowly still. You cannot force the growth of a single plant\nor animal at pleasure; still less can you force at will the advancement\nor improvement of society. You may change a nation's laws and\ninstitutions suddenly, but the change will be of no service, so long as\nthe minds of the people remain unchanged.\n\nAll the great beneficent changes of Nature are gradual. How slowly the\ndarkness of the night gives place to the morning dawn, and how slowly\nthe grey dawn of the morning brightens into noon! How slowly the cold of\nwinter gives place to the warmth of spring and summer. How slowly the\nseed deposited in the ground springs up, putting forth first the blade,\nthen the ear, and then the full ripe corn in the ear. And how slowly we\ngrow up from babyhood to manhood, and how slowly we pass on from early\nsprightly manhood, to the sobriety and wisdom of age. And how slowly the\nnations advance in science, in arts, and in commerce; in religion, and\nmorals, and government. And so it is in all the works of God. Even the\nstartling phenomena presented by the earth's surface, which earlier\nphilosophers supposed to be the result of violent and sudden\nconvulsions, are now regarded as the result of the slow and ordinary\naction of natural powers. Leisurely movement is the eternal and\nuniversal law. And it is no use complaining; you cannot alter it. You\ncannot make a hen hatch her eggs in less than three weeks, do what you\nwill. You may crack the shells, thinking to let the chickens out a\nlittle earlier; but you let death in, and the chickens never do come out\nat all. \"The more haste the less speed.\" I have had proof of this more\nthan once in my own experience. I once lived in a house terribly\ninfested with rats, and I wanted to get rid of them as quick as I could,\nfor they were a great nuisance. But, I was in too big a hurry to\nsucceed. One night I heard a terrible splashing in the water-tub in the\ncellar. \"That's a rat,\" said I, \"I'll dispatch that, anyhow:\" and I took\nthe lighted candle and poker, and hastened into the cellar, thinking to\nkill the creature at once. When the rat saw me with candle and poker, it\nmade an extra spring, completely cleared the edge of the tub, and got\nsafe away into its hole. I was in such a hurry to kill it, that I saved\nits life. When I got to it, it was drowning itself as nicely as it could\ndo; and if I had had patience to wait, it would have been dead in ten\nminutes. But because I would not wait, and let it die quietly, it would\nnot die at all. And it may be living now for anything I know, and may\nhave bred a hundred other rats since then, and all because I would not\ngive it time to die in peace. There are rats everywhere still. There are\nrats in the Church, rats in the State; rats in palaces, and rats in\nhovels. There are rats of despotism and tyranny, rats of slavery and\nwar, rats of rebellion and anarchy. There are rats of superstition and\nidolatry, rats of heresy and infidelity, rats of intemperance and\nlicentiousness. And it is right to try to kill them off. But we had\nbetter go to work carefully. We cannot put things right in an instant.\nAnd when wicked laws, or vicious principles have received their death\nblow, we had better give them time to die in quiet. Haste and impatience\nmay spoil all.\n\n12. Though unbelief may not always be a sin, it is always a great\ncalamity. As we have said, its tendency is always to immorality, and\nimmorality always tends to misery and death. Byron perished in his\nprime, and his short life and his untimely death were both unhappy.\nUnbelievers are seldom happy in their domestic relations. And in cutting\nthemselves off from God, they reduce the noblest affections of their\nsouls to starvation. They have no suitable exercise or gratification for\ntheir natural instinctive gratitude, their reverence, or their love.\nThey have nothing in which they can securely trust. Even their family\nand social affections often decline and die.\n\nMany unbelievers are poor, and infidel poverty is always envious. The\nworld is a very trying one to unbelievers: hardly anything pleases them;\nand nothing pleases them long. Rulers do not please them: they are\ndespots and tyrants. Their fellow subjects do not please them: they are\ncowardly slaves. Their masters do not please them: they are\nextortioners. Their men do not please them: they are knaves. The rich do\nnot please them: they are leeches, caterpillars, cormorants. The poor do\nnot please them: they are mean, deceitful and dishonest. Religion does\nnot please them; it is superstition: and philosophy does not please\nthem; it is a bore and a sham. Priests do not please them; they are\ncheats: and the people do not please them; they are dupes. The climates\ndo not suit them: they are too hot, or too cold; too damp, or too dry;\nand the seasons do not please them--they are always uncertain, and\nseldom right. The world at large disgusts them: it takes the part of\ntheir enemies. It favors the religious classes, and mocks and tortures\nthe infidel philosopher. Their bodies are not right; they are always\nailing, and threatening to give way: and their minds are not right; they\nare never contented and at rest. There is nothing right in the present;\nand there is nothing promising in the future. They think themselves the\nwisest people in the world, yet people in general regard them as fools;\nand they themselves can see that their fancied wisdom does not prove\ntheir friend.\n\nThey can give no explanation of the mysteries of the universe. They\ncannot account for the facts which geology reveals with regard to the\nnatural history of the globe. They cannot account for the mechanism of\nthe heavens, or the chemistry of the earth. They cannot account for\nlife, organization, or intelligence. They cannot account for instinct.\nThey cannot account for the marks of design which are everywhere visible\nin Nature, nor for the numberless wonders of special arrangement and\nadaptation manifest in her works. They cannot account for the difference\nbetween man and the lower animals. Animals can indulge themselves freely\nand take no harm; man cannot indulge himself freely without misery and\nruin. Animals can be happy without self-denial; man cannot. Man excels\nin the gift of reason, yet commits mistakes, and perpetrates crimes,\nwhich we look for in vain among the beasts of the field. Man, with a\nthousand times more power than the brutes, and with immensely greater\ncapacities and opportunities for happiness, is frequently the most\nmiserable being on earth. On the supposition that man was made for a\ndifferent end, and endowed with a different nature from the brutes--on\nthe supposition that man was made for virtue, for piety, for rational,\nreligious self-government, for voluntary obedience to God, for the joy\nof a good conscience, for heaven--in a word, on the supposition that the\nScriptural and Christian doctrine about man is true, all this is\nexplained; but on the infidel theory all is a torturing, maddening\nmystery.\n\nAnd let infidels do what they will, and say what they please, the world\nat large will hold to the religious theory. Mahometans, Pagans, and\nChristians all insist that man is made for higher work, and meant for a\nhigher destiny, than the lower animals. The Christian theory is accepted\nby the highest of our race. They regard it with the deepest reverence.\nThe books that unfold it they regard as divine. They read them in their\nfamilies. They read them in their temples. They teach them in their\nschools. They publish them in every language; they send them round the\nglobe. In England and America, the first of the nations, you see them\neverywhere. You meet with them in hotels, in boarding-houses, at railway\nstations, and on steam packets; in asylums and infirmaries; in barracks\nand in prisons; in poor-houses and in palaces; in the drawing-rooms of\nthe wealthy, and in the hovels of the poor. The greatest scholars and\nrarest geniuses devote their lives to the diffusion of their doctrines;\nand there is no probability of a change. If Christianity be false, the\nworld is mad: if it be true, the case of the infidel is deplorable in\nthe extreme.\n\nAnd that many portions of the Christian system _are_ true, is past\ndoubt. They carry the evidence of their truth on their very face. And\nother portions admit of easy proof. The truth of many Christian\ndoctrines can be proved by experience. And the rest are probable enough.\nThere is nothing absurd, nothing irrational in Christianity. The\nteachings of Christ are the perfection of goodness. They are the\nperfection of wisdom and beauty. Even Goethe could say, \"The human\nrace can never attain to anything higher than Christianity, as presented\nin the life and teachings of its Founder.\" And again he says, \"How much\nsoever spiritual culture may advance, the natural sciences broaden and\ndeepen, and the human mind enlarge, the world will never get beyond the\nloftiness and moral culture of Christianity as it shines and glistens in\nthe Gospels.\"--_Farhenlehre_, iii. 37.\n\nAnd nothing can be more true.\n\nLook for a few moments at Christ and Christianity.\n\nAnd, first, what is Christ as presented in the Gospels?\n\n1. He is, first, holy, harmless, undefiled; a lamb without blemish and\nwithout spot. This is the lowest trait in His character. Yet it is a\ngreat thing for any one to remain innocent in a world like this, with a\nnature like ours.\n\n2. But He was, second, an example of the highest moral and spiritual\nexcellence. He was devout, pious, resigned, towards His Heavenly Father.\nHe was full of benevolence towards men. He did good. The happiness of\nmankind was the end, and doing good the business, of His life. He had no\nother object. He paid no regard to wealth, to power, to pleasure, or to\nfame. He was so fixed and single in His aim, that there is no room for\nmistake. To do good, to bless mankind, was His meat and drink.\n\n3. And He did good to men's bodies as well as to their souls. While He\ntaught the ignorant, and reformed the bad, and comforted the penitent,\nHe healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, bread\nto the hungry, and life to the dead.\n\n4. He enjoined the same way of life on His disciples. \"Freely ye have\nreceived,\" said He, \"freely give.\"\n\n5. While He lived and labored for the good of all, He paid special\nattention to the poor.\n\n6. Yet He never flattered the poor, nor pandered to their prejudices or\npassions. He never taught them to envy the rich, or revile the great, or\nto throw the blame of their sorrows on others.\n\n7. While kind to the poor, He was just and respectful to the rich. His\nconduct to Nicodemus, to Zaccheus, to the young man that came to\nquestion Him about the way to heaven, and to the Roman centurion, was\ncourteous and comely to the last degree. He was faithful, but not harsh.\n\n8. He was good to all classes. He loved the Jews, yet He was just and\nkind to the Samaritans, to the Syro-phenician woman, and to the Roman\nsoldier.\n\n9. He was especially kind to women, even to the fallen ones. He showed\nnone of that indifference or disdain for woman that the proud barbarian\nexhibits, or of that heartless contempt which the vicious sensualist\nmanifests. He rose alike above the selfish passions and the inveterate\nprejudices of his age, and conferred on the injured sex the blessings of\nfreedom and dignity, of purity and blessedness.\n\n10. He showed the tenderest regard to children. \"He took them in His\narms and blessed them,\" and said, \"Suffer little children to come unto\nMe, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.\"\n\n11. He was kind to the outcast. He was a friend of publicans and\nsinners. He went among the lowest, the most neglected, the most\ndespised, the most hated and dreaded of mankind, and labored for their\nsalvation. The parables of the Lost Sheep, and of the Prodigal Son,\nspeak volumes in His praise.\n\n12. He was always gentle, tolerant, and forgiving. He refused to bring\ndown fire from heaven on the villagers that had slighted Him, saying\n\"The Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them.\"\nHe commended the virtue of Samaritan heretics. He has nothing harsh even\nfor the infidel Sadducee. He complies with the unreasonable wishes of\nthe skeptical Thomas. He pardons Peter. He is severe with the Scribes\nand Pharisees only, who made void the law of righteousness by their\ntraditions, and took the key of knowledge, and used it, not to open, but\nto keep shut the door of the kingdom of heaven.\n\n13. As a reformer, He went to the root of social and political evils,\nand sought the reform of laws, institutions, and governments, by\nlaboring for the instruction and renovation of individuals.\n\n14. He was patient as well as disinterested. He was willing to sow, and\nlet others reap; to labor, and let others enjoy the fruits of his\nlabors.\n\n15. He formed a Church, employing the social instincts and affections of\nHis followers as a means of perpetuating and extending His beneficent\ninfluence in the world.\n\n16. He checked the impertinence, and silenced the vanity of captious\ncavillers.\n\n17. He carried the truth into markets and sea-ports, as well as taught\nit in the temple and in the synagogues.\n\n18. He had the eloquence of silence as well as of speech.\n\n19. He could suffer as well as labor. He bore reproach and insolence,\nand at last laid down His life for mankind.\n\n20. He could make allowances even for His murderers. When they mocked\nHim in His dying agonies, He could say, \"Father, forgive them; they know\nnot what they do.\"\n\nHe excelled as a teacher.\n\n1. He was very practical; seeking always to bring men to be merciful, as\ntheir Father in Heaven is merciful.\n\n2. He was very plain; using the simplest forms of speech, and the most\nnatural and touching illustrations.\n\n3. He presented truth and duty in His parables in the most impressive\nforms.\n\n4. His doctrines about God and providence, about duty and immortality,\nabout right worship and the proper employment of the Sabbath; about true\ngreatness, and the forgiveness of injuries; about gentleness and\ntoleration; about meekness and humility; about purity and sincerity, as\nwell as on a great variety of other subjects, were the perfection of\ntrue philosophy. His parable of the talents, His remarks on the widow\nand her two mites, and on the woman and the box of ointment, showing\nthat nothing is required of us beyond our powers and opportunities, are\nstriking, instructive, and impressive in the highest degree.\n\n5. He made it the duty of all whom He taught to instruct others. His\nwords, \"freely ye have received, freely give;\" and the sentence, \"It is\nmore blessed to give than to receive,\" are among the divinest oracles\never heard on earth.\n\n6. He illustrated and enforced all His lessons by a consistent example.\nHe practised what He taught.\n\n7. And He commanded His disciples to do the same. \"Let your light so\nshine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your\nFather which is in heaven.\"\n\n8. There can be nothing juster or kinder than His great rule, \"All\nthings whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so\nunto them.\"\n\n9. His doctrine that God will treat men as they treat each other, is\nmost striking and important. \"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall\nobtain mercy.\" \"With what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged; and with\nwhat measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.\" \"If ye forgive\nmen their trespasses, your heavenly Father will forgive you your\ntrespasses; but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will\nyour heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses.\"\n\n10. His remarks on riches and poverty, on honor and reproach, on\nsuffering and glory, though regarded by some with shyness and distrust,\ncontain a world of important truth.\n\n11. His lessons on spiritual or religious freedom, on self-denial, on\nthe true mark of discipleship, on the great judgment, on the future of\nChristianity, and on the heavenly felicity, are all remarkable for their\nwisdom, and for their purifying and ennobling tendency.\n\nBut it would require volumes to do Christ and His doctrine justice. And\nI feel as if I were wronging the Saviour to speak of His worth and\ndoctrine, when I have neither time nor space duly to set forth their\ntranscendent excellency. Every peculiar trait in His character that I\nhave named, deserves a treatise to present it in all its importance and\nglory; and I, alas, can give but a sentence or two to each.[A]\n\nBut Christ has our devoutest love and gratitude, and our profoundest\nreverence. And the more we contemplate Him, the more constrained we feel\nto regard Him, not only as the perfection of all human excellence, but\nas the revelation and incarnation of the eternal God. And we feel it a\ngreat honor and unspeakable privilege to be permitted to bear His name,\nto belong to His party, and to labor in His cause. We are indebted to\nHim for everything that gives value to our existence, and we give Him,\nin return, with cheerfulness and gladness, our heart, our life, our all.\n\n     Ah, why did I so late Thee know,\n       Thee, lovelier than the sons of men?\n     Ah, why did I no sooner go\n       To Thee, the only ease in pain?\n     Ashamed I sigh, and inly mourn\n     That I so late to Thee did turn.\n\n[A] Since the above was written we have published a book\nentitled JESUS: A PORTRAIT. Look at it.\n\n\nCONCLUDING REMARKS.\n\n1. While the tendency of infidelity is to make men miserable, it is the\ntendency of Christianity to make men happy. When I was living at\nBurnley, an infidel came to me one morning and said, \"Barker, we may say\nwhat we will, but those Ranters, (meaning the Primitive Methodists) are\nthe happiest men alive. There is one lives next to me, and he sings all\nthe day long. He gets up singing and goes to bed singing.\" They _are_\nthe happiest men alive. And real Christians of all denominations are\nhappy.\n\n2. Some time after my return to Christianity, I spent a few days in the\nhouse of a Primitive Methodist, a farmer, on the Cheshire Hills. I\nseemed in Paradise. The master and the mistress were cheerful and kind,\nand the daughters and girls were almost continually singing delightful\nChristian melodies while busy at their work. One moment they were\nsinging of a BEAUTIFUL STREAM, and then of a HAPPY LAND. One would\nbegin, \"Jesus, Lover of my soul\"--and when that was finished, another\nwould begin with, \"When I can read my title clear, to mansions in the\nskies,\"--and the singing and the work went on together all the day. It\nwas heaven. And a thousand such facts might be given.\n\n3. My own experience is in harmony with these facts. My return to Christ\nmade me happy beyond measure. It brought me enjoyments, transports, to\nwhich, for years, I had been an utter stranger. The fact is, for a long\ntime the worth of my life was well-nigh gone. I lived, because I felt I\n_ought_ to live, for the sake of those who were dear to me. But for\nmyself, the light and joy of my life seemed gone for ever. My existence\nwas a long dark struggle with crushing destiny. Though naturally\nhopeful, I was made to feel the bitterness of blank despair. I had\nmoments of relief, but I had weeks of gloom and despondency. Now all is\nchanged. I have moments of sadness and depression; but weeks and months\nof joy and gladness. I see the universe in an entirely different light.\nAnd instead of murmuring at Nature as cruel, I adore a gracious and\nmerciful God. Of my errors and misdoings I must always feel ashamed, and\na consciousness of them must for ever tend to make me sad at times; yet\nnotwithstanding all drawbacks, I have enjoyed more satisfaction, more\nreal happiness, a hundred times over, during the last twelve months,\nthan I enjoyed during the whole period of my alienation from God. The\nsimple-hearted Christian knows what he says, when he tells you \"There's\nsomething in religion.\" It has a power and a blessedness altogether\ndifferent from anything else under heaven. Knowledge is sweet, and love\nis sweet, and power and victory are sweet; but religion--the religion of\nChrist--is sweeter, infinitely sweeter than all. It is the life and\nblessedness of the soul. It is its greatness, its strength, its glory:\nits joy, its paradise, its heaven.\n\n4. If the churches abound with defects, the cause is in humanity, and\nnot in Christianity. Men are not imperfect because they are Christians,\nbut because they are not Christian enough. The worst men are the\nfarthest from Christianity, and the best are nearest to it. And the\nworst creeds are the least Christian, and the best are the most\nChristian. And Christianity is better than the best. There is not a\nvirtue on earth, nor a truth in the universe, which does not form a\npart, or a consistent and fitting appendage, of the Christian system.\nThe best, the wisest, the noblest man on earth is no better, no wiser,\nno nobler, than the teachings of Jesus tend to make the whole human\nrace.\n\n5. The influence which Jesus exerted on the world, and the influence\nwhich He is still exerting, is the mightiest and most beneficent ever\nexperienced by mankind; and the monument which He has raised for\nHimself, the Christian Church, with all its institutions, its\nliteratures, its agencies and achievements is, beyond all comparison,\nthe grandest, the noblest, and in all respects the most magnificent and\nglorious that the history of the world can boast. He has indeed gained\nfor Himself a name above every name; a glory and a power which have no\nequal and no resemblance; and His followers may well adore Him as the\nbrightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of His love and\nmajesty.\n\n6. And what can we do better than chime in with the anthem of His\nworshippers? What can we do better than teach His beneficent doctrines,\nand follow His glorious example? Talk as we will, the noblest and the\nhappiest life a man can live is a life of Christian love and\nbeneficence. And the best association on earth is that which is\norganized on the principle of love to Christ, pledged to the\nself-sacrificing labors of a wise philanthropy, the work of serving and\nblessing mankind.\n\n7. A belief in Christ gives one a power to do good to mankind which no\nskeptic can have. It kindles love, and stimulates to activity, as\nnothing else does. And it inspires courage, and produces patience, and\ngives comfort under persecution. And it lays on us no unnecessary\nrestraints. It leaves us free to every good word and to every good work.\nAnd it is friendly to science and to unlimited progress. It offers a\nbond of union for all great minds, and for all good hearts. It increases\nour power to reform both churches and states, without urging us to wild\nand revolutionary measures, which might imperil the interests of both.\nTo accept this religion, to avow this faith, involves nothing of which\nwe need be ashamed, but everything in which we may reasonably glory. We\nescape alike the follies of theological dreamers, and the gloom and\nhorrors of infidel philosophy. We live amidst the soft mild glories of\neternal light; we cheer ourselves with the richest and most glorious\nhopes, and we spend our lives in the grandest contemplations and the\nnoblest occupations the heart of man can conceive.\n\n8. The vainest of all vain things, the most unseemly and revolting of\nall forms of pride, is the pride of disbelief in God and immortality.\nAnd the maddest if not the wickedest of all occupations, is to labor to\ndestroy the faith and blight the hopes of others. What good, humane, or\nmerciful motive can a man have to impel him to such a horrible\nundertaking?\n\n9. How soothing the thought that your sufferings are marked by a loving\nGod, and will be overruled for your good! And how cheering the thought,\nwhen life is in danger, or drawing to a close, that death is the gate of\na higher life! And how comforting the thought, when your loved ones are\nleaving you, that they are going before you to a happier home, and that\nby-and-by you will see their faces, hear their voices, and share their\npresence and society again! And what a relief, when visiting the sick,\nthe sorrowing, or the dying, to be able to speak to them of an infinite\nFather, of another life, and of brighter scenes, and of a happier lot,\nin a better land!\n\n10. We have spent time enough among the dead. And you can see with your\nown eyes which are the living, loving, and laboring portions of the\nChurch. You can see which portions build the most schools, teach the\nmost children, reclaim the most drunkards and profligates, and do most\nto develop and cultivate the religious and moral sentiments of the\nmasses. And one of the lessons we always pressed on you was, to judge a\ntree by its fruits. We do not intend to swerve from our plan of avoiding\nsectarian and theological controversy; but we may ask you to compare the\namount of good religious work done by the Methodists in fifty years,\nwith the good done by the so-called liberal Christians, and to draw\nyour own conclusion. The Primitive Methodists alone, with the smallest\namount of means, have done incalculably more good in fifty years, than\nthe Unitarians, with unlimited supplies of wealth, and all the\nadvantages of learning and position, have done in a hundred and fifty\nyears. We have cast in our lot with the living, working portion of the\nChurch. It is our home. We had rather be a doorkeeper of the humblest\nliving, hard-working church in the land, than dwell with the spiritually\ndead and cold in the palaces of princes. We will help the men that are\ndoing the hard and needful work of humanity. If you can see such men as\nthe Primitive Methodists and the orthodox Churches generally, working as\nthey _do_ work, and succeeding as they _do_ succeed, and not respect\nthem and love them, and take part in helping them, you have not the\nheart of tenderness and the spirit of Christian manliness for which we\nhave given you credit.\n\n11. The influence of Christianity cannot be otherwise than beneficial;\nnor is it possible that Christianity should become the ruling power on\nearth without greatly abating, if not entirely curing the evils of\nhumanity, and making mankind as happy as their nature and capacities\nadmit.\n\nImagine Christianity to be received and reduced to practice by all the\npeople on earth, what would be the result? Disease would gradually\ndiminish. Nine-tenths of it would quickly disappear; and life would be\nboth happier and much longer.\n\nAlong with disease would go want, and the fear of want. All would be\nwell fed, well clad, well housed, and well supplied with all the\nnecessaries and comforts of life. The world is stored with abundance of\nnatural wealth. The surface of the earth is vast enough, and its soil is\nrich enough, to supply homes and plenty to all its inhabitants, if they\nwere fifty times as numerous as they are.\n\nThree or four hours a day would be the utmost length of time that men\nwould need to labor. The cessation of war would set the soldiers free\nfor productive employment. The peaceful disposition of the people at\nhome would allow the police forces to devote themselves to useful labor.\nThe idle classes would set to work, and the wasteful classes would\nbecome economical. A limit would be fixed to the extravagances of\nfashion. Things comely and useful would satisfy the desires of both men\nand women. The powers of nature would be pressed more generally into our\nservice, and compelled to do our drudgery both in the mine and on the\nfarm. A sense of justice would dispose men to be content with their\nshare of the blessings of Providence, and Christian generosity would\nprompt the rich to supply the wants of the helpless. The dangers of\nuseful toil would be diminished. The catalogue of mournful accidents in\nflood and field, in mines and factories, would be abridged. Oppression\nwould cease. The wisest and best would be our legislators and rulers.\nPatriots, philanthropists, and philosophers would take the place of\nselfish politicians. Political trickery would give place to honorable\nstatesmanship. All cruel forms of servitude would cease. All wicked laws\nwould be abolished. All needless burdens would be removed from the backs\nof the people. All would be well taught. All dreams of impossible\nequality, and all thoughts of violent and bloody revolutions, would pass\naway. Vice and crime would disappear, with all the tortures both of mind\nand body which they occasion. Commerce would flourish. All nations would\nfreely and lovingly exchange their surplus products. All classes would\ndeal with each other honorably. Each one would do to others as he would\nthat others should do to him. No one would suffer from fraud, or from\nthe fear of fraud. Trade would be a mutual exchange of benefits.\nBusiness would be a pleasant pastime, gainful to all, and ruinous to\nnone.\n\nMarriage would be universal, and would prove in every case a comfort and\na blessing. The family circle would be the abode of love, and peace, and\njoy. Each home would be a little heaven. Children would be wisely\ntrained and carefully nurtured in knowledge and piety. The virtues and\nthe graces would adorn their lives from youth to age. All talent and\nskill, the powers of eloquence and of poetry, the influences of music\nand of song, and all the powers of art would serve the cause of truth\nand virtue, of religion and humanity.\n\nSuperstition would die. Unnatural conceptions of God, and cruel,\nwasteful, and useless forms of worship, would give place to faith in a\nGod of light and love, of wisdom and of purity, and to a spiritual,\nrational, and rapturous kind of devotion. All ignorant dread of natural\nphenomena would give place to joyous and loving admiration, and to\ndevoutest adoration, of the great eternal Ruler of the world. If\ncalamities came they would be accepted as divine appointments, as\nneedful means of everlasting good. Death would lose its terrors. Belief\nin a blessed immortality would enable us to pass from earth in peace and\njoy. Bereavements would be less distressing. The departure of our\nfriends would be but a transition to a better state of being.\n\nThe world itself would change. Its beauties would become more beautiful;\nits glories would become more glorious, and all its joys and pleasures\nwould be more transporting. The eye, the ear, the taste, the smell would\nall become the inlets of more and richer enjoyments. Science and\nliterature in their divinest forms would become the common lot of our\nrace. The glory of God's character and the brightness of the eternal\nfuture, would shed unwonted radiance over the present life, and make it\nrapturous, glorious, and divine. The religion of Christ, while raising\nmen to heaven, would bring down heaven to earth.\n\nOn the other hand, the want of trust in God and of a hope of immortality\ntends to darken earth, and to embitter life. When men are severed from\nGod and Christ, they suffer loss both in character and enjoyment. We can\nspeak from experience. We never ruined our health by vicious indulgence.\nWe never became the slave of intemperance or licentiousness. We never\ndishonored our family, or lost the love and confidence of our wife and\nchildren. But we lost our trust in God, and our hope of immortality. And\nthe heavens above grew dark, and the earth became a desolation. Life\nlost its value, and sorrow its consolation; and many and many a time we\nwished that we had never been born. For hours have we trod the earth\nwith heavy heart and downcast eyes, groaning beneath a weight of sadness\nindescribable. Loss of faith in Christ, even with men of a naturally\ncheerful and hopeful spirit, renders life a burden too heavy to be\nborne. Hence for years before we fully regained our own faith in\nChristianity, we encouraged others to cherish theirs. An infidel once\nsaid, that the Christian's hope, if false, was worth all this world's\nbest truths; and we felt the truth of the remark, and shrank from\nattempts to take from men the inestimable treasure. And now we would\nrather die than shake or undermine the faith of any Christian soul on\nearth. To the work of cherishing a belief in Christ in our own heart,\nand nurturing it in the hearts of others, we consecrate our life, our\nall. We would rather live on a crust, in a mud hut, with faith in God\nand Christ, than feast on all the dainties of the earth, in the palace\nof a king, with the hopelessness and gloom of the Atheist.\n\nWe have no disposition to exaggerate; but we are constrained to say,\nthat if all the wisdom and all the virtue on earth had dwelt in one man,\nand if that one man had presented a revelation of God with a view to\nsupply the strongest, the mightiest, the most touching, the most tender,\nthe most varied, and the most irresistible inducements to renounce all\nselfishness and sin, and to live a pure and godly, a holy and a useful,\na divine and glorious life, that revelation could have assumed no\nbetter, no more perfect or effective form, than that which is presented\nin the revelation of God by Jesus Christ. We feel, while we contemplate\nit, that it can have no fitter or truer name than that bestowed on it by\nthe Apostles, 'The power of God to salvation to every one that\nbelieveth.' And we are reminded of the words, 'We all, with open face\nbeholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same\nimage from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.'\n\nOf course the destruction of this belief can operate no otherwise than\nas an encouragement to evil, and a discouragement to good. The loss of\nChristian belief in God can be to the virtues and the graces of the\nheart and life, but as a blight to plants and flowers. The Christian\nbelief makes it summer to the soul, giving birth, and power, and full\ndevelopment to all that is godlike and glorious in human character. The\nloss of that belief is winter to the soul; killing with its frosts each\nform of life and beauty, and making all a waste and desolation.\n\nThere have been three great disbelievers in God in our own country\nduring the present century, all of whom have written books denouncing\nmarriage, and counselling unbounded sensual license. If their counsels\nwere generally taken, the result would be a state of society as horrible\nas that portrayed in the beginning of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, and\na return to faith in God alone could save the race of man from utter\nextinction. But we will not dwell on this dreadful side of the subject.\nWe know the effects of the light and warmth of the sun; and we may\nsafely be left to infer the horror, the misery, the world-wide ruin, and\nthe utter dreariness and desolation that would follow if the orb of day\nwere extinguished, or for ever and utterly withdrawn. Religion is the\nsun of the spiritual world; it is its light and life, its joy and\nblessedness; and its extinction would be the death and destruction of\nour race.\n\nWhile belief in God is favorable to virtue generally, it tends also to\nproduce displays of superior excellence; of unusual courage,\nperseverance, and endurance. The believer in God may brave the most\nappalling dangers. His feeling is, that he who is for him is greater\nthan all that can be against him. It is no vain boast in him to say, 'I\nfear God, and know no other fear.' It is natural that he should say,\nwhen threatened by mistaken or malignant men, 'You may kill me, but you\ncannot hurt me.' The Christian believer can afford to be a martyr. When\nexcited by ungodly or inhuman opposition, he naturally displays the\nmartyr's courage. He can bear too to suffer disrepute. He can trust his\nreputation to his omniscient and almighty Friend. He can bear to look\nwith patience both on the adversity of the good, and the prosperity of\nthe bad. He knows the fate,--he sees the end,--of both. The Judge of all\nthe earth will do right. He knows no evil but sin. He knows no security\nbut righteousness.\n\nAnd Christian faith is a fountain of all conceivable _comfort_. It is a\ncomfort to feel secure. It is a comfort to feel strong. It is a comfort\nto feel assured that we are beloved of God. It is a comfort to feel that\nwe love Him in return. It is a comfort to believe that the universe has\na Head, a Lord, a Ruler. It is a comfort to believe that we are not\norphans, fatherless inhabitants of a Godless world. There is pleasure in\nadmiration and reverence. There is pleasure in feelings of gratitude.\nThere is a pleasure in tracing the wonders and beauties of creation to a\nliving, loving Creator. It adds to the pleasure of science to believe,\nthat behind the wonderful phenomena which we behold, there is a Great\nUnseen from whose all-loving heart they all proceed. It is a pleasure to\nbelieve that our ways are ordered by infinite wisdom. It is a pleasure\nto believe that our sorrows are known to an almighty sympathizing\nFriend. It is a pleasure to believe that our kindred and friends have a\nhelper greater than ourselves. It is a pleasure to believe that our lot\nis appointed by an infinite Father; that we shall not be permitted to be\ntried beyond our strength; that in every temptation, a way will be made\nfor our escape; that nothing can harm us, however painful; that nothing\ncan destroy us, however terrible; that all things work together for our\ngood. In short, there is no end to the strength which a Christian belief\nin God is calculated to give to our virtue, or to the consolation which\nit is calculated to impart to our souls.\n\nBut what can be sadder than to be without God, and without hope, in a\nworld like this? With all our science how little we know! How terrible\nthe thought that we have no unerring guide! With all our powers how\nfeeble we are! How terrible the thought that we have no almighty friend!\nAnd vast and numberless as are the provisions that are made for our\nhappiness, how often we are thwarted, how prone we are, even in the\nmidst of plenty, to be dissatisfied; and how soon we may perish! And how\nsad the thought that there is no restorer! Is it strange that, when\nfaith in God is lost, the value of life is felt to be gone?\n\nWe have no harsh word for the doubter or the disbeliever, but we raise\nour warning voice against the dangers which beset the way of youth, and\ncounsel all to consider well their steps. 'There are ways which at times\nseem right unto men, but the end thereof is death.' 'The fear of the\nLord is the beginning of wisdom, and to depart from evil is\nunderstanding.' Science has advanced; arts have multiplied; governments\nhave changed; and many are tempted to believe that the principles of\nreligion and virtue are exploded. But woe to the man that yields to the\ntemptation. His days shall be darkened with grief; and his heart\ndistracted with horror. But peace and purity and joy shall be the lot of\nthe faithful Christian. The light of life shall shine upon his path. The\nwisdom of the Holy One shall be his guide; and, living and dying, he\nshall be secure.\n\n12. The Christian has the highest, the happiest employment. He works in\nthe spirit of eternal love. He works for the highest and the holiest\nends. And he works in hope. He sees the harvest in the ploughing of the\nfield, the coming crop in the scattered seed. The result of his labors\nmay come slowly, but he can afford to wait. The Lord reigneth; and the\nplans of His eternal love can never fail.\n\nAnd all things rich and beautiful are his. The earth and its fulness are\nhis. The heavens and their glories are his. All sights of beauty, all\nsounds of melody, all emotions of wonder, all transports of delight are\nhis. There are no forms, no elements of bliss from which he is excluded.\nAll the innocent pleasures of sense, all that can delight the soul\nthrough the eye, the ear, the taste, or the feelings; all that is rich\nin art; all that is rapturous in song; all the pleasures of science and\nliterature, all are his.\n\nAnd all earth's blessings, all pure and harmless pleasures, he can enjoy\nmore truly and more fully than other men. While his faith in God gives\ngreater beauty and glory to the universe, his hope of immortality gives\ngreater sweetness to his earthly life. The brightness of the eternal\nworld throws a celestial radiance over the present, and gives to earth a\nportion of the blessedness of heaven.\n\n\nA FEW TESTIMONIES OF GREAT MEN IN FAVOR OF CHRISTIANITY.\n\nWe live in the midst of blessings, till we are utterly insensible of\ntheir greatness, and of the source from which they flow. We speak of our\ncivilization, our arts, our freedom, our laws, and forget entirely how\nlarge a share of all is due to Christianity.--_Coleridge._\n\nThere never was found in any age of the world, either philosopher or\nsect, or law or discipline, which did so highly exalt the public good as\nthe Christian faith.--_Bacon._\n\nAs the man of pleasure, by a vain attempt to be more happy than any man\ncan be, is often more miserable than most men are; so the skeptic, in a\nvain attempt to be wise beyond what is permitted to man, plunges into a\ndarkness more deplorable than that of the common herd.--_Colton._\n\nSince the introduction of Christianity, human nature has made great\nprogress; but it has not got in advance of Christianity. Men have\noutgrown other institutions and systems, but they may grow for ever and\nnot outgrow Christianity.--_Channing._\n\nI have lived long enough to know what I did not at one time\nbelieve--that no society can be upheld in happiness and honor without\nthe sentiment of religion.--_La Place._\n\nIt is heaven on earth to have one's mind to move in charity, to rest on\nProvidence, and follow truth.--_Bacon._\n\nOf all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity,\nreligion and morality are most essential. In vain would that man claim\nthe tribute of patriotism, who should labor to destroy those great\npillars of human happiness; these firmest props of virtue. And let us\nnot suppose that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever\nmay be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of\npeculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect\nnational morality to prevail in the absence of religious\nprinciple.--_Washington._\n\nI have carefully and regularly perused these Holy Scriptures, and am of\nopinion, that the volume, independently of its divine origin, contains\nmore sublimity, purer morality, more important history, and finer\nstrains of eloquence, than can be collected from all other books, in\nwhatever language they may have been written.--_Sir William Jones._","title":"Modern Skepticism: A Journey Through the Land of Doubt and Back Again: A Life Story","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":177512}