Title page.

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS
IN THE
WEST.

BY ERASMUS MANFORD

CHICAGO:
E. MANFORD, PUBLISHER.
1867.

TO
MY CHRISTIAN FRIENDS
IN THE WEST,
WITH WHOM I HAVE LIVED
AND LABORED MANY YEARS,
THIS VOLUME
IS DEDICATED

THE AUTHOR.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Page 9.

Parentage and Childhood; “Lord” Timothy Dexter; At School; In Haverhill; Shoemaking; Early Aspirations; Converted; Must be a Minister; On a Plank; Attend School; A Long Walk; Studies with J. C. Waldo and Dr. Cobb; First Preaching; With W. S. Balch; First Tour; First Debate; Came out Second Best; Talk with an Englishman about American Coarseness; Conversation on Slavery; In Maryland; Talk with an Episcopal Clergyman concerning Endless Woe not being Taught in the Old Testament; Traveling and Preaching on the Eastern Shore; Return to Baltimore; A Storm; Where Truth Flourishes and Where it Does Not; Another Location; Self and Faith Abused; Preach in Harper’s Ferry, Charleston, Winchester, Va.; A Hard Battle; Cross the Alleghany Mountains.

CHAPTER II.

Page 33.

In Pittsburg; S. A. Davis, Wife and Daughter; The West; Preach in Pennsylvania and Ohio; Western Reserve; Talk with a Bigot; Conversation on a Steamboat; Forbidden to Preach; Grave Creek; A Mound; My Study; What is Salvation? Proceedings in Bainbridge; Mud; In Cincinnati; General Harrison; In Rising Sun; Patriot; Preach in Louisville, Ky.; E. M. Pingree; On the Mississippi River; Preach in a Steamboat; In New Orleans; Battle Ground.

CHAPTER III.

Page 47.

A Sea Voyage; A Meeting at Sea; Tornado; Strange Vessel; In Texas; Travel to Houston; Hard Fare; The Country; Sleeping on the Ground; Very Thirsty; Must have Water; Colorado River; Sound Asleep on its Banks; Cross the River on Logs; Corn Cake; A Surprise; In Houston; General Houston; The Attorney-General of Texas; San Jacinto Battle Ground; A Pandemonium; Buck Wheat Cakes; Embark for New Orleans; A Condemned Vessel; On Allowance; In New Orleans; A Contrast; Ague and Fever; Up the Mississippi.

CHAPTER IV.

Page 55.

Labors of E. B. Mann; N. Wadsworth; Owner of a Horse; Preach in Indiana and Kentucky; A Profane Life; General Clarke; Atheism; The Eyeless Fish; A Presbyterian Minister’s Wisdom; No Hell, No Heaven; Travel in Ohio; Another Preacher Replies; Labors in Dayton; D. R. Biddlecom; George Messenger; R. Smith’s Somersault; J. A. Gurley; George Rogers; Start for Indiana; Battle in Harrison; Universalism an Old Doctrine, and of God; Partialism an Old Doctrine, but of Satan; Grove Meeting; Father St. John: Badly Treated; John O’Kane on his Creed; In Indianapolis; A. Longley; A Horse; Questioned by a Methodist; In Terre Haute; Very Unpopular.

CHAPTER V.

Page 74.

Journey in Ohio; Intemperance; General Baldwin; In Columbus; Death Penalty; How to Deal with Offenders; Preach in Newark and Zanesville; Hell Discussed; Mrs. Frances D. Gage; Invited to Settle in Marietta; W. H. Jolly, In Chillicothe; Opposition in Richmond; —. Webber; In Kentucky; Dr. Chamberlin; Opposition in Lexington; Is Universalism Infidelity? A Slanderous Story by a D.D.; In Paris; Excursion to Patriot; A Discussion; Daniel Parker; Cure the Ague; Good Health.

CHAPTER VI.

Page 87.

A Journey East; Talk with a Baptist Minister; Preach in Delaware and Centerville, Ohio; W. Y. Emmett; Doors Closed; A. Bond; A. B. Grosh; In New England; On the Sea; A Storm; Methodist Preacher Frightened; Blow the Trumpet; In Philadelphia; In Delaware; In Pittsburg; Return to Cincinnati; Go to Chicago; Bad Roads; In Richmond; Talk with a Quaker; A Spirit Returns to Earth; A Spirit Out of the Body; A Strange Sight; Preach in God’s Temple; Preach in Chicago; Preach in Joliet; Aaron Kinney, an Early Preacher; Bill of Fare; Hard Luck in Magnolia; Why Preach; In Hennepin; Political Humbugs; Opposition in Washington; Justice of God; In Pekin and Tremont; Frozen; A Preacher Replies.

CHAPTER VII.

Page 103.

Located in Lafayette; The Christian Teacher Commenced; A Circuit; Society Organized; Meeting-house Built; All Alone; Conflict in Frankfort; Old Testament Doctrine of Punishment; Debate Proposed in Frankfort; Discussion in Independence; Character of my Sermons; Slander Refuted; Debate in Burlington; Endless Woe; Some Voting; The Use of Discussion; A Traveler.

CHAPTER VIII.

Page 119.

Debate in Lafayette; Die in Adam; Alive in Christ; This World and World to Come; Battle Ground; In Monticello; A Reply; A Preacher Whipped; D. Vines; S. Oyler; I. M. Westfall; B. F. Foster in Indiana; Revival Poetry; Ladoga Camp-Meeting; Worship; In Michigan City; An Episcopal Preacher; A Wet Ride; Debate in Dayton; Discussion in Jefferson; Everlasting Punishment; End of the World; Second Coming of Christ; Eternal Life; Meaning of Everlasting.

CHAPTER IX.

Page 140.

Questioned J. O’Kane in Dayton; He Beat a Retreat; He Replied in Crawfordsville; Three Resurrections, National, Moral, and Immortal; Conversation in West Lebanon; Everlasting, Forever; Kingdom of God; Sin, Error, Suffering not Endless; In Southern Indiana; Why Live a Christian Life? Bigotry in Breckenridge; Discussion with Mr. Dickerson; Calvinism; Arminianism; Universalism; Debate in Chambersburg.

CHAPTER X.

Page 161.

Move to Terre Haute; Lecture in Fort Wayne; A Discussion There; Dr. Thompson; Visit Illinois; Opposition; Discussion in Charleston; Prayed For; Called Infidel; Debate in Green Castle; Conditions of Salvation; God’s Will; All are Spirits; Form of the Teacher Changed; J. Burt and J. H. Jordan, Editors; Oliver Cromwell; Foundation of Character; In Many Places; A Celebration; Meeting in the Rain; Fourth of July Celebration; Debate in Martinsville.

CHAPTER XI.

Page 172.

Journey into Northern Illinois; Temperance Lecture; Result of Temperate Drinking; Married; Homeward Bound; High Waters; Difficult Traveling; Trouble in Crossing Streams; A Cold Bath; End of the “Bridal Tour”; A Hard Ride; Debate with E. Kingsbury; In Northern Indiana; Conversation with an Indian; Dark Man and Dark Night; Explanation of Hebrews ix. 27, 28; End of the World; The Earth and Man.

CHAPTER XII.

Page 193.

Discussion in Franklin; Justice of God; What the Gospel Is; Society Organized; Discourse on Total Depravity; Conversation with a Presbyterian Minister on Christian Rewards; Talk with a Catholic; A Methodist; A Presbyterian; A Campbellite; Salvation; A Mormon Sermon; Reply to It; A Journey to Louisville and Cincinnati.

CHAPTER XIII.

Page 213.

Move to Indianapolis; Extensive Traveling; Henry Ward Beecher; A Fossiled Calvinist; Supposed to be an Orthodox Preacher; Debate in New Philadelphia; Strife Between the North and South; The Old Convention Dead; The New Convention Organized; Discussion in Springfield, Ill.; Abraham Lincoln; God is Love; Is Merciful; Is Just; Is Holy; Travel in Illinois; Conversation with a Presbyterian Clergyman on the Origin of Hell; In Iowa City, and Other Places in Iowa; Home Again; W. J. Chaplin; Discussion with Benjamin Franklin; Debate in Covington; Discussion with Mr. Russell; Publish the “One Hundred and Fifty Reasons”; Review of “Universalism Against Itself”; Publish Another Book; Olive Branch Discontinued; Travel Far and Near.

CHAPTER XIV.

Page 231.

Conclude to go to St. Louis; Commence the Golden Era; Association in Crawfordsville; Debate in Dayton; Man in God’s Image; God the Father of All; Man Immortal; Man a Spirit; High Waters; In St. Louis; Why Moved to St. Louis; But Few Friends; First Journey in Missouri; Wet, Hungry, Out in the Cold; In Troy; In Ashley; Four Brothers; In Louisiana; Opposition in London; In Hannibal; Good Friends; Questioned in Palmyra About Slavery; Conversation on Judgment; In Memphis; Questioned; A Presbyterian Preacher Replied; Was to Debate in Newark; Covered with Ice; Missouri River; Discussion in Georgetown; In Southern Missouri; Questioned in Warsaw; In Jefferson City; Hard Work in Danville; Return to St. Louis.

CHAPTER XV.

Page 251.

The Golden Era Issued Semi-Monthly; The Missourians; Slave Holders; Travel in Southern Missouri; If Endless Woe is True all Nature would Weep; Region of Iron; Dunkards in Millersville; In Southern Illinois; Philosophy of Christ Being the Savior of the World; Refuse to Debate; Discussion in Carlyle; Inspiration; Our Name; Partialism Approaches Infidelity; Three Downward Steps; Reply to a Sermon; Hayne’s Sermon; Mr. Lewis Debating on his Knees; Written Discussions with two Methodist Ministers; In Northern Missouri; A Preacher Replies; A Log Cabin; Talk with a Slave; Thomas Abbott; Negroes Hung; The Golden Era; Mrs. Manford Lecturing; Let Woman Work; A Circuit in Missouri; Travel in Cold Weather; Debate in Quincy.

CHAPTER XVI.

Page 277.

The Golden Era; Extensive Traveling; In Missouri and Kansas; Talk with a Deist in Jefferson City; Moses; The Prophets; Replied to in Pisgah; Talk with a Rum-seller; In Kansas City; In Wyandotte; Conversation with a Clergyman Concerning Christ and his Work; Lectured in Leavenworth; Destruction of Man’s Enemies; In St. Joseph; The Mercy of God; In Kingston; Rich Man and Lazarus.

CHAPTER XVII.

Page 293.

The Rebellion Commenced; What Senator Douglas Said; Defenders of our Country; Camp Jackson; Rebel Flag; Great Expectations; Subscribers Lost; Money Lost; All but Two of the Religious Journals Stopped; Could do but Little in Missouri; Society in St. Louis; G. S. Weaver Left; The Unitarian Society; Published Pamphlet on Water Baptism; Discussion with B. H. Smith; Extracts from the Discussion.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Page 315.

Discussion in Pontiac; The Apostle’s Faith; His Argument in Romans; Extensive Traveling; In Kansas and Missouri; Price’s Raid; In Ohio and Indiana; Dark Night and Walk in Toledo; Conversation on Destructionism; The Victory; The Death; President Lincoln; Debate in Milford, Ohio; The Restitution an old Doctrine; The Sentiment Wide Spread; At Work in Iowa; Laborers There; Murderers Saved and the Murdered Lost; Intellectual and Moral Growth; What Man Was; What He is to Be; The Victory; Spiritualism; Immoral Preaching; Saved Without Repentance; Preaching a Means of Salvation; A Methodist Minister Believes; The Suicide.

CHAPTER XIX.

Page 346.

Last Campaign; In Galesburg, Ill.; The United States Convention; Lombard University; Other Schools; Journey to Missouri; In Macon City; In Brookfield; St. Joseph and Other Cities; Grove Meeting; On the Missouri Bottom; Beautiful Country; Preach in Fillmore and many other Places; Return Home; Anti-Orthodox Preaching; Funeral Sermons; Death; Life; Conclusion.

CHAPTER I.

Parentage and Childhood—Lord Timothy Dexter—At School—In Haverhill—Shoemaking—Early Aspirations—Converted—Must be a Minister—On a Plank—Attends School—A Long Walk—Studies with J. C. Waldo and Dr. Cobb—First Preaching—With W. S. Balch—First Tour—First Debate—Comes out Second Best—Talk with an Englishman about American Coarseness—Conversation on Slavery—In Maryland—Talk with an Episcopal Clergyman concerning Endless Woe not Being Taught in the Old Testament—Traveling and Preaching on the Eastern Shore—Returns to Baltimore—A Storm—Where Truth Flourishes and Where it Does Not—Another Location—Self and Faith Abused—Preaches in Harpers Ferry, Charleston, Winchester, Va.—A Hard Battle—Crosses the Alleghany Mountains.

Having been often solicited, by my friends, to publish an account of my travels and labors in the West, after much hesitation and doubt, I have concluded to accede to their wishes. But before doing so, I will say a little about my early life. Newburyport, Mass., is my native place. My father, whose full name I bear, was from Denmark; my mother from Amsterdam, Holland. I was the first born of a family of three boys, one of whom, Frederick, many years since passed the way of all the earth. The other, James, resides in Texas. My father was a sailor, and was lost at sea in a terrific storm, when I was seven years old. I have a faint recollection of seeing him two or three times, and the only memento I have of him, is a large pitcher he had manufactured in Liverpool with his name and the picture of a ship on one side, and my mother’s maiden name and a picture representing Liberty, Peace and Independence, on the opposite side. My mother was left in indigent circumstances, with not a relative in the New World, save her three helpless boys. She married some years after my father’s death, and resided till her death, which took place two years since, in Princeton, Mass. I have then a father, mother and one brother on the other side of the river, and one brother on this side, and not many years can elapse ere the whole family will be reunited in the land beyond the flood. I well remember the spot where all of us once lived, although I have not been in Newburyport for thirty years. It was on High street, between the Court House and the residence of “Lord” Timothy Dexter. To me, that street seemed a paradise, and it was, and still is, a magnificent thoroughfare. It is on high ground, runs parallel with the Merrimac river, overlooks the harbor, and is bordered with rows of grand trees, with fine residences embowered in lawns and flower gardens. In this charming locality, I spent the first decade of my life. Here I ran, played, and frolicked with my brothers, and other little associates. The Mall around the Court House, the pond in the rear, and a neighboring cemetery, were places of frequent resort. On Sunday, I attended Dr. Morse’s church, where, I am told, I was christened by the good doctor, who was an Episcopalian. But the bud came near being suddenly blasted. An old-fashioned cent which I put into my mouth, slipped down my throat, and was extracted with much difficulty. I distinctly remember the circumstance. When the copper was taken out, blood flowed copiously from my mouth. My poor mother was much frightened, and I suffered for a short time severely. If my father had lived, I should probably have been a sailor. He was first mate of the ship in which he made his last and fatal voyage, and was to have been promoted to captain on his return. I have ever loved the sea, and a ship is a thing of beauty in my eye. But it was written that the solid earth, not the treacherous deep, should be the field of my operations.

One word about Lord Timothy, just referred to. He was a very eccentric man, had many soft spots on his head, but knew enough to accumulate a large fortune. He built a magnificent residence, which he adorned in a very extravagant manner, with sculpture and pictures. He was very vain of his house and wealth. It is said that a stranger, passing his house, was attentively observing it, when Dexter, who was sitting at a window, remarked: “Do you not think this is paradise?” “I should,” replied the man, “if I did not see the devil at the window.” He was dubbed “Lord” for his vanity and ostentation, and the title delighted him as much as “Corsica” prefixed to Boswell, delighted the well known biographer of that name.

I commenced attending school at an early age, but have no pleasant memories of school-hours in my native town. My teacher would read a chapter in the Bible, and make a long prayer every morning, and then whip and pound his pupils till the time for his evening devotions. If I escaped a day without two or three hard thrashings, I deemed myself very fortunate, and I think I was as dutiful as school boys generally were of my age. He was doubtless a believer in total depravity, and was sure that nothing but blows and knocks would make a good impression on our corrupt hearts.

From my tenth to my eighteenth year, I resided in Haverhill, Mass., with S. George. He was a farmer and shoemaker—made shoes in the winter, and tilled the soil summers, and I worked on his farm and in his shop, except winters, when I attended school. I remember my first attempt at horseback riding. I went to live with him in the spring, and he soon put me on a horse to ride when ploughing corn. The beast was contrary and spirited. He would go like jehu a few rods, and then stop short, and I would go over his head on to the ground. But I was as spunky as the horse, and would scramble up, and tell Mr. G. to put me on again. I was always eager to remount the beast, although he threw me twenty times a day. Since then, I have rode over the Western country horseback, and consider myself a good horseman.

I have said I worked in Mr. G.’s shoe shop; yes, and learned to make cheap shoes, but always despised the business, and never more than half learned the trade. My aspiration was to be a merchant. Oh, if I could only be a merchant how happy I would be! I dreamed, and planned, and built air-castles—would weep over my “lapstone,” for being doomed to work at that hateful trade. When I was about sixteen years old, the Boston Trumpet, a Universalist paper, published by Thomas Whittemore, led me to look into Universalism, for up to that time I knew nothing of its principles or history. Mr. George’s family, and all my associates, attended the Congregational church in the neighborhood, and no body seemed to call in question the infallibility of the sermons we heard every Sunday. But the Trumpet opened a new world to my view, changed all my aspirations, and I was really born again. I thought no more of being a merchant—that seemed a contemptible calling,—but must be a preacher. I devoured the paper, read the Bible, and had many hard fought battles with my comrades. I loved them, loved the world, and was sure, if I could get the ears of mankind, I could convert all nations and people. The world seemed to be a musical instrument, tuning the praises of its almighty Author. Thomas Farnsworth was then preaching in Haverhill, four miles from where I resided, and I called on him several times, and he urged me to prepare for the ministry, but I never intimated to him that I had such an intention. I kept that to myself.

I was always fond of reading, and my new faith quickened my love for it. I perused religious books, romance, history, but poetry was especially my delight. I remember with what enthusiasm I read portions of Dr. Young’s “Night Thoughts.” His grand and solemn thoughts and diction stirred my soul to its lowest depths. I even wrote what I called “poetry,” but I am thankful that none of it survives. I have never attempted the “divine art” since those early days, although phrenologists tell me I ought to be something of a poet, as my “ideality” is large.

When in Haverhill, I came near losing my life. I never could swim, but with a plank three feet long, one end pressing against my body, I could paddle far from shore into deep water, without any fear. On one occasion, when indulging in one of my aqueous excursions, while in deep water, a comrade, who was ignorant of my helpless condition when off the plank, took it from me, when down I went, but by the aid of other boys I reached the shore, and I never went into deep water again on my frail craft. In my boyhood, I was subject to violent attacks of colic and sick headache, but otherwise my health was good. My physical frame was small and of fine texture, and consequently I was not very strong, and could not cope with boys generally of my age in athletic exercises.

When I was eighteen years old, I left old Haverhill, and repaired to Princeton, where I attended school one year, and made considerable progress in English branches. But my purse being nearly empty, I was obliged to replenish it before I could further prosecute my studies; and having no one to aid me, I went to Boston, hoping something would there turn up in my favor. I knew no one in that city, and no one knew me, and soon became satisfied I had better try my fortune elsewhere. I noticed in a city paper, that school teachers were wanted in Eastern New York, and I resolved to go there and seek a school, although I had only three dollars in my pocket, and it was one hundred and eighty miles to the place of destination; but my empty purse did not prevent my making the journey. On foot and alone, I traveled the whole distance. Although my feet were sore, and my bones and muscles ached, I pursued my weary march, and finally reached the neighborhood of Bethlehem—I think that was the name of the place. I found myself in the midst of a German settlement, with a people of unknown tongue, and of manners and customs all new to me. I remained there but a few days, became distressingly homesick, and resolved to return to Boston. Repaired to Albany, where I sold my watch to pay traveling expenses, went on a steamboat to New-York city, and from thence to Boston by sea. This was my first tour; this was the beginning of my ramblings, but it was rather an unpropitious beginning. When I went on this school-hunting expedition, my intention was, after securing a school, to devote my leisure hours to study, and if opportunity offered, to speak occasionally in public, and thereby prepare myself for what I deemed the chief business of my life. But that Dutch Bethlehem broke up all my calculations, and I returned disgusted, but not discouraged.

In a few days I walked out to Lynn, the great shoe manufacturing town of New England, where nearly all the men, women and children are shoemakers, and recommenced cobbling, earning enough to defray current expenses, and continued my studies. J. C. Waldo was then pastor of the Universalist church in Lynn, and I soon introduced myself to him, and made known my intentions of preparing for the ministry, and he kindly offered me the use of his books, and such instruction as I might need in prosecuting my object. I remained in L. six months, working, reading and writing, when Mr. Waldo advised me to go to Malden, and study with Sylvanus Cobb. To Malden I repaired, and made arrangements with Mr. C. to reside in his family, and devote all my time to study.

A new era in my life had now opened, and my hopes were buoyant. I could give all my time and thought to study, and I made the best use of my advantages. Mr. Cobb was a prominent man in the denomination, an able minister, a fair scholar, and consequently well qualified to give instruction. To that excellent man, and his accomplished lady, I am under great and lasting obligations. “I was a stranger and they took me in.” May God ever bless them. They now reside in Boston. Mr. Cobb, or rather, Dr. Cobb, for he is now a D. D., for many years published the Christian Freeman, is the author of a Commentary on the New Testament, and of several other useful books. His son, Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., who is a well known literary writer, was a boy when I was in Mr. C.’s family, and the twins, Cyrus and Darius, now ministers, and who fought for the Stars and Stripes, during the late rebellion, were born while I was a member of the household. He had three other students while I was with him—A. P. Cleverly, G. Hastings, and C. S. Hussey. We had fine times; we talked, read, wrote and declaimed. When we wanted to ventilate our logic, we repaired to a neighboring grove, where we made the welkin ring with our eloquence. “The Orthodox,” said A. P. Cleverly, on one of these occasions, “will come to you with their creed in one hand, and damnation in the other, and say to you, take this or take that, but one of them you must and shall have.” On Monday we generally went to Boston, two miles distant, and at the Trumpet office would usually see Hosea Ballou, H. Ballou, 2d, Walter Balfour, Thomas Whittemore, Sabastian Streeter, Henry Bacon, T. B. Thayer, all noted men, but most of them are now dwellers of the spirit land. The departed did a noble work on earth, and long will they be remembered. “Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.”

When I had been with Mr. Cobb about three months, he went to the state of Maine, and left me to preach for him one Sabbath. My heart jumped when the first bell on Sunday morning told me to prepare for my first pulpit services; but I went through the exercises of the day without much embarrassment. My texts were: “God is love”—“They hated me without a cause.” When Mr. C. returned, he seemed well satisfied with my effort, for he had heard his friends speak of it, and gave me words of encouragement. While with him, I preached in Lynn, Haverhill, and several other places, but devoted most of my time to hard study.

After being with Mr. Cobb six months, I put myself under the instruction of William S. Balch, then residing in Claremont, N. H., and pastor of the church in that place. I found him to be a noble man and shall ever remember his many acts of kindness with gratitude. Although I was in his family, and received his instruction most of the time during six months, he would receive no compensation. He now resides in Galesburg, Ill., and although years are pressing hard upon him, he is as faithful in the discharge of his ministerial duties as when in early manhood. When with him, I took my first preaching tour, and had my first debate. I went up the Connecticut river into Canada, and preached in most of the towns on both sides of the river. I performed the journey on foot, and must have walked about two hundred miles. In one town where I had an appointment, a Methodist minister had one at the same place and hour. We both met in the pulpit. He did not wish to speak, as he was unwell, he said, and desired me to occupy the time. I objected, for I was afraid of him; but as he insisted that I should go ahead, I delivered my discourse. My text was: “For if the word spoken by angels was steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward, how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation which at the first was spoken by the Lord, and confirmed unto us by them that heard him.” Heb. ii. 2, 3. As soon as I was through, he seemed to be well enough, took my text, and made a long reply to my feeble effort. He handled me rather rough, but I did the best I could in the way of a rejoinder, but felt that I had come out second best. It was not manly in him, an experienced preacher, to attack a boy as he did; but I suppose he had rather encounter a boy than a man.

Soon after returning from this journey, I noticed a statement by Otis A. Skinner, a minister in Baltimore, Md., in one of our denominational papers, that several young men were wanted to preach in Maryland, and Mr. Balch advised me to go there. Heeding his advice, I went by stage across the Green Mountains to Albany, thence to New-York. In the latter place, I had the following conversation with an Englishman, right from his foggy island:

“I do not like this country,” said he.

“Why not?” I inquired.

“I have many reasons. One is, the people are not refined enough. I did not encounter as much coarseness during the thirty years I lived in England, as I have in this country the past six months.”

“You have been very unfortunate in the company you have kept. There are coarse people in all countries, and a man can eat and sleep with them all his lifetime if he chooses. But that there are more coarse people in this country than in England, I am sure is an error. But what do you mean by coarseness?”

“I mean that the peasants do not pay proper respect to gentlemen.”

“Yes, yes; I understand you. Why, sir, we have no peasants in this country; all are gentlemen.”

“I abhor such a democratic notion. Only see how rudely your people talk about the President of the United States. He is called Mr. Jackson, Old Jackson, Old Hickory. In Europe, we call the king, His Majesty. Don’t you see the difference?”

“I see the difference. The people of this country have little respect for titles, and I am thankful for it; but they have great respect for man; so much that they deem every man a sovereign; and I hope they will never make such fools of themselves as to single out one of their number, perhaps the biggest gump in the land, and bow down and worship him, and like cringing slaves, call him ‘His Majesty.’ God only is worthy the title of Majesty.”

In the cars near Baltimore, I had some conversation with a lawyer, concerning slavery.

“Are you going South?” he inquired.

“To Maryland. Am from the East, and was never as far south or west before.”

“As you are going into a slave-holding state, I should like to know your views of slavery.”

“In principle I think it is wrong; but I know little of its practical effects. I shall be better able to judge of it practically at some future time.”

“Morally I regard it wrong; nearly all the Southern people so view it. But that slavery is a benefit to the blacks, there can be no doubt. As an evidence of this, contrast the condition of the negroes in Africa with their condition in the Southern states. In this country they are far better off than their brethren are in Africa.”

“They doubtless are in some respects, but I am not sure that slavery has improved them. Living in this country, and associating, to some extent, with a superior race, has improved them; but I cannot admit that slavery has done it. You admit slavery to be an evil, and we have the best authority for asserting, that an evil tree cannot produce good fruit. It seems to me that you condemn slavery in principle and practice when you admit it to be an evil. What effect do you think it has on the whites?”

“Decidedly a beneficial effect. There is more refinement and high-toned character in the slave states than in the free states. The people in the South have leisure to cultivate the better sentiments of their nature.”

“I repeat, you must be mistaken. If slavery is a upas tree—is an evil as you admit—it cannot produce such heavenly fruit. It is not true that the Southern people are more intelligent, moral and refined than the Eastern people. Statistics, from which there can be no appeal, show that there are more school houses, academies, colleges and meeting houses in the East, than in the South, in proportion to the population. There are more persons in Virginia, the best of the slave states, who cannot read or write, than there are in six of the most Eastern states. Facts are against you.”

I proceeded to Baltimore, and S. P. Skinner, who afterwards resided, preached and published the New Covenant, in Chicago, advised me to go to the eastern shore of Maryland. This portion of the state, and part of Delaware, lies between the Chesapeake and Delaware bays. Most of this neck of land is level and sandy, having been, at a comparatively recent period, reclaimed from the sea. Went in a small vessel to Centerville. While running down, I had some conversation, on religious subjects, with an Episcopal clergyman.

“The doctrine of endless punishment is taught in the Old Testament.”

“That is your opinion, but some of the wisest and most learned men of your school differ from you. I will read some extracts from their writings on this subject. Your Bishop Warburton, in his Divine Legation of Moses, says:—‘In the Jewish Republic, both the rewards and punishments promised by heaven were temporal only. Such as health, long life, peace, plenty, and dominion, etc. Disease, premature death, war, famine, want, subjections, and captivity, etc. And in no one place in the Mosaic Institutes is there the least mention, or any intelligible hint, of the rewards and punishments of another life.’

“Milman, in his History of the Jews, testifies thus:—‘The sanction on which the Hebrew Law was founded is extraordinary. The lawgiver (Moses) maintains a profound silence on that fundamental article, if not of political, at least of religious legislation—rewards and punishments in another life. He substituted temporal chastisements and temporal blessings. On the violation of the constitution followed inevitably blighted harvests, famine, pestilence, defeat, captivity; on its maintenance, abundance, health, fruitfulness, victory, independence. How wonderfully the event verified the prediction of the inspired legislator! how invariably apostasy led to adversity—repentance and reformation to prosperity!’

“Dr. Paley, another great man of your church, admits the same:—‘This (Mosaic) dispensation dealt in temporal rewards and punishments. In the 28th of Deuteronomy you find Moses, with prodigious solemnity, pronouncing the blessings and cursings which awaited the children of Israel under the dispensation to which they were called. And you will observe, that these blessings consisted altogether of worldly benefits, and these curses of worldly punishments.’

“Jahn, the best of authority says:—‘We have not authority, therefore, decidedly to say, that any other motives were held out to the ancient Hebrews to pursue good and avoid evil, than those which were derived from the rewards and punishments of this life.’

“This is the testimony of able and learned men who have made the Bible their life-study. Notwithstanding they believed in eternal woe, they candidly admit that it is not taught by the great Lawgiver, Moses, or the prophets.”

“They do seem to think that doctrine is not taught in the Old Testament, and I admit their judgment is entitled to much respect. I will look into the subject.”

“I am glad to hear you express such a purpose. And I am sure that you will agree with those wise men, after a careful examination. If they are correct, and the dogma in question is true, is it not amusing that the Old Testament writers say nothing about it? If they had believed in eternal punishment, they surely would have spoken of it in distinct terms, and warned their countrymen of their danger. You believe in ceaseless woe, and you preach it faithfully, earnestly. You are right; you act according to your convictions. And were Moses and the prophets less faithful and earnest? But they did not speak of it, and the inference is, they had no faith in the doctrine. But, sir, if that dogma is true, would not God have forced those inspired men to proclaim it to a dying world? Would God have permitted the Jews to be ignorant of so important a matter? What! thousands of immortal spirits daily dropping into a fiery gulf, and not a word of warning given? have no intimation of such a place till they find themselves in its fathomless vortex? Believe this who can, I cannot.”

I spent six months in this part of Maryland, traveling and preaching all the time. My head-quarters were at Salisbury, and from thence I went east, west, north and south, sometimes on foot, and sometimes on horseback. The liberal faith I advocated was almost totally unknown in that region. O. A. Skinner, who had resided in Baltimore, once traveled through there, and delivered a few discourses, but I found not more than a dozen persons, who knew or cared any thing about liberal christian sentiments. It was any thing but a favorable field for one so young and inexperienced as I was, to operate in. I was tired of traveling, and desired to settle where I could devote my time to two or three places, that I might have an opportunity to study, for I well knew my literary needs, and as such arrangements could not be effected in that region, I resolved to try some other locality. That my well intended labors had much effect, is more than I can affirm, as I have heard but little of the religious sentiments of the people since I left there. Much of the Eastern Shore is a very poor country, and were it not for the fish and oysters that abound in Chesapeake bay, part of that region would be an uninhabited desert, at least, till the soil was improved, for the farmers in those days merely scratched over the ground, and exhausted it more and more every year. Slave labor and scratch culture, I have observed, generally go together. And, I think it is a fact, that poor soil, unless there are counteracting causes, such as commerce and manufacturing, produces weak heads and sterile hearts; and it is also a fact, that the rich sentiments of our faith will not flourish permanently in physical or moral deserts. The apostles of our Lord spread the gospel among the ignorant and brutal nations of the earth, but how soon was it corrupted. Their “darkness comprehended it not,” and there was soon developed a wretched compound of light and darkness, error and truth, sin and virtue, life and death, heaven and hell, and this compound corresponded with the intellectual and moral culture of the people. Since Luther’s day, the process of disintegration has been going on, and it will, I trust, continue till the dross shall be all separated from the gold, and the former burned with unquenchable fire.

I returned to Baltimore in December, 1836. Encountered a terrific storm on the Bay, which came near sending the vessel and all on board to the bottom. It raged during a bitter cold night, the wind was directly ahead, and most every wave swept the deck fore and aft. The owner was on board, the steersman was his negro slave, and he stood to his post like a man the whole of that boisterous and cold night. In the morning we anchored in a sheltered situation, and during the day reached Baltimore. Spent several weeks traveling and preaching in the vicinity of the city, and from thence went to Hagerstown, Md., which I made my home for six months. Samuel A. Davis had labored in the vicinity some time previous, as a missionary, but receiving little encouragement, had moved to Pittsburg, Pa. I preached in Hagerstown, Woodville, Frederick, Sharpsburg, and many other places, in many of which I was the first to proclaim our beautiful faith, and encountered all sorts of opposition. Our ministers who have always labored where our cause is well established, have no idea of the mean and contemptible opposition a laborer encounters in a new field, where hardly any one knows any thing of our faith or its history. At the close of a sermon I delivered in Frederick, a clergyman of the place, arose and poured forth the vials of his wrath. He said Universalism was the lowest grade of infidelity, that the blasphemies of Tom Paine were purity itself compared to it; and that Universalists were the scum of society, that the grog-shops, gambling dens, jails and penitentiaries were full of them. Hosea Ballou and Walter Balfour died drunkards, and they were the best men the sect ever had. The fellow overshot the mark, and disgusted the people with himself; and the mild remarks I made after he got through, turned the tide in my favor. Ever after, I had large congregations in Frederick.

I spoke several times in Charleston, Va., where John Brown was hung; also in Harper’s Ferry, the place he so easily captured, and in Winchester, where several battles, during the late rebellion, were fought. In Smithfield, Va., I had an exciting season. Went there an entire stranger, and delivered a discourse in a school-house, the first sermon on the great salvation ever delivered in the place. As soon as I said amen, up jumped three men to reply. It was with difficulty they agreed on which should first speak. They finally settled that matter, and then gave me particular attention. Each of them occupied about half an hour, and as the night was short, for it was an evening meeting, it was midnight when they got through. I notified the people that I would notice the arguments of the speakers the next evening. The novelty of my faith, and the attention I received from three of the most prominent men of the town, caused intense excitement, and the whole village, and the region round about, attended the next meeting. My three opponents, one doctor and two lawyers, were on hand, with paper and pencil, which was ominous of another attack. I noticed the arguments and proofs of the gentlemen, and replied to them in the best way I could. One of them had charged me with denying a judgment day. I stated that I believed in a judgment day, yea, in many judgment days. The Bible speaks of numerous judgment days, but they are all this side of the end of the world. When Adam and Eve were condemned and driven out of Eden’s bowers, it was a judgment day to them. When Cain was banished to the land of Nod, it was his judgment day. When the wrath of heaven burst on the world and destroyed all but Noah’s family, it was a terrible judgment day. The Sodomites experienced the horrors of a judgment day when they were destroyed by fire. The ten tribes of Israel, when they were banished to the far East, never to return, knew something of a day of judgment. When Babylon, Nineveh, and other mighty cities of the old world were destroyed, they suffered the desolations of judgment days. When Jerusalem was trodden under foot by the Babylonian power, and when subsequently it was burned up, ploughed up, and drenched with the blood of its citizens, did it not suffer, what the sacred writers call, days of darkness, of gloom, of judgment? The world has been crowded with judgment days: all nations and people have sadly experienced their sorrows. The Christian dispensation is also termed a day of judgment. It commenced when the kingdom of God was established on earth by the Son of the Highest, and will continue, till Jesus shall return the kingdom to God the Father, as recorded in 1st Corinthians 15th chapter, when God shall be all in all. It commenced amid sin, error, suffering and death, and when it shall end those evils will be known no more, but truth, virtue, life and immortality will be the universal and everlasting boon of Adam’s race.

As soon as I got through, a lawyer commenced reading a long chapter of quotations from the Bible, to prove that there was a devil. He had prepared it with much care, and read it loud and emphatically. It was supposed that a preacher or two in town helped him to his texts, and comments. When he closed, a doctor commenced an harangue, but I begged him to hold on till I had disposed of his brother’s sermon. I told the people that I believed in many devils—lying, slanderous, revengeful, cruel, superstitious, sectarian devils; that every man was his own devil, and if any of my hearers should become vile and degraded, if they would look into a mirror, they would see a devil. But I had no faith in the devil the lawyer had been preaching about. As soon as I had finished my remarks, the doctor resumed his speech. He launched into the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, and did a large amount of special pleading, to show that the hell spoken of in that passage was a place of eternal woe. When he was through, I asked him if he would answer a few questions. He replied that he would.

“Do you regard that passage to be a literal relation of facts?”

“I do.”

“Hell is there called a place. Do you suppose it is a place having length, width and height?”

“Yes.”

“It is said to contain fire. Do you believe it contains fire?”

“I do, for the passage says so.”

“The rich man and Lazarus were within speaking distance of each other—they talked together. Do you think that heaven and hell are so near each other, that the saved can see the damned, and hear their groans and lamentations?”

“I am not bound to answer that question.”

“But you promised to answer my questions.”

Several voices—“You must answer”—“You are getting into a tight place.”

“Well, if I must answer it, I will say, Yes.”

“One more question. Could you be happy in heaven if you should see all the dear ones you now love, roasting in hell? Will you answer?”

“To be candid, I do not see how I could be happy.”

“I thank you for your candor. According to your interpretation of the passage, and it is the common interpretation, heaven and hell, the latter a region of quenchless fire, are neighbors, within speaking distance of each other, and mankind are to be torn asunder—part driven into hell, and part sent to heaven—husbands and wives divided, parents and children, brothers and sisters divided, part in heaven and part in hell, and those in heaven will know that half of the world are in hell, that their near and dear friends are there. Now, it is utterly impossible for there to be any happiness in heaven, when such a world of woe is within sight and hearing. The passage must be a parable—figurative language. Jesus often spake in parables. It is in connection with several parables, and like them is figurative. But I have not time this evening to give an explanation of it, but on to-morrow, Sunday, at eleven o’clock, will give what I regard to be the true exposition of that important passage.”

The discussion had a sensible effect on the hearers; some rejoiced and some were mad. One old gentleman, with streaming eyes, thanked me for what he had heard. But others were so enraged, that some of my friends feared that violent hands would be laid on me, ere I should reach the hotel, and I heard several cry, “Search his saddle-bags! he is a d——d abolitionist! get a rail!”

The next day my meeting was in a grove, for no house, that could be obtained, would hold half of the people who came out. My youth, the novelty of my faith, and the controversy, drew an immense concourse. The people listened with attention and respect, and the meeting was not disturbed by any opposition. I went to the village a stranger to all, but when I left, which was the next day, I had many friends.

I often preached in Harpers Ferry, and generally had large congregations. The town site, and its surroundings, are well known to be remarkably picturesque. The Shenandoah and Potomac, rapid streams, here unite, and roar and plunge through the chasm they have made through the Blue Ridge. The rocks on both sides are several hundred feet high, and nearly perpendicular. Thomas Jefferson said it was worth a voyage across the Atlantic to see this wonderful work of nature.

Near Hagerstown, I had a little controversy with a Campbellite preacher. We both had an appointment in a barn, and the people were eager to hear both of us speak. He delivered a discourse on his peculiar views—dwelt long on the importance of water baptism, which he affirmed was a condition of salvation. In my discourse, I paid particular attention to his water-cure notions, and showed that if he was correct, none could be saved without being baptized in water, and therefore most of mankind would be lost forever, as but a small portion of our race are immersed. In his reply he said he did not believe in endless misery, but in annihilation, and admitted that he had no evidence of the salvation of a soul, old or young, in a christian or a heathen land, without water baptism. What a gospel! I rejoined. Instead of bringing life and immortality to light, it proclaims eternal death to nearly the whole world; instead of being good news to our race, it is a howl of everlasting despair; instead of being a blessing to the world, it is an unmitigated curse; instead of its proclaiming that God is the loving Father of mankind, it announces that He is full of partiality and hatred towards most of His creatures. Never again prostitute that blessed word, gospel, by calling your partial, cruel and revengeful system by that dear name. There is not as much gospel in your creed as there is brain in a mosquito’s head.

One evening, I accompanied a friend to a Methodist meeting; the congregation was large, and a “revival” was raging in its midst. The first speaker spoke well and sensibly, but his words fell on dull ears and cold hearts. The second speaker was a regular son of thunder, and he did thunder, and storm, and quake, and he made some of his hearers do the same. When he got through with his “exhortation,” he kneeled and said, “Let us pray.” He prayed, and half of the assembly prayed with him. He raised his voice, and they raised theirs; he screamed like a maniac, and they did the same; he jumped up and down, and they jumped up and down. I looked on with utter amazement, having never witnessed such a scene before. As soon as he had finished this part of the performance, he told all to rise to their feet, who wanted to go to heaven. I was the only one who did not stand up. “Rise to your feet,” said he, “or you will be damned.” I kept my seat, and though strongly tempted to rebuke him, I said nothing.

Near Charleston, Va., I attended, for the first time, a Methodist camp-meeting, and have not since been anxious to renew my acquaintance with such gatherings. It was held in a beautiful grove, and there were present some two thousand people, black and white. During the services, the whites were seated in front of the speaker’s stand, and the negroes in its rear. The speakers would talk awhile to their white brethren, and then turn on their heels and give the black brethren a broadside, and the latter always responded to the condescension of the preachers with a hearty shout. The night was the hour of promise; then they were almost sure of being blessed with copious showers of “grace.” Sunlight, it seems, is not favorable to its descent; it comes more plentifully with moonshine. The night I was on the ground, there were all sorts of manifestations of the “spirit.” Some laughed, others cried, groaned, and threw themselves on the ground. I noticed one poor fellow trying to climb a tree, and I asked him where he was going. “To heaven,” said he, and he kept scratching the tree with his finger and toe nails, for he was bare-footed. The preachers and the hearers generally, seemed to think all that hopping, jumping, shouting and screaming, was the work of God in converting the souls of the people. Every good thing can be abused, and thus become an evil. Religious excitement, when kept within due bounds, is productive of much good, but when it overleaps all bounds, and becomes temporary insanity, as it did on this occasion, it is prostituted to a very bad purpose. I spent a short time in the “preacher’s tent” where the following conversation ensued:

“John Wesley was opposed to such excitement as you have here.”

“You are mistaken,” replied the Presiding Elder; “that man of God was in favor of it, for he knew it was the work of the spirit of God, and I warn you to flee from the wrath to come, before it shall be eternally too late.”

“Do not get excited, my friend. Let us see what Wesley says about what you call the work of the Holy Spirit. In one of his volumes he speaks of the doings of Satan thus:—‘Satan strives to push many of them to extravagance. This appears in several instances:

“‘1. Frequently three or four, yea, ten or twelve, pray aloud together.

“‘2. Some of them, perhaps, may scream altogether, as loud as they can.

“‘3. Some of them use improper, yea, indecent expression in prayer.

“‘Several drop down as dead, and are as stiff as a corpse; but in a while they start up and cry, “glory, glory!” perhaps twenty times together. Just so do the French prophets, and very lately the Jumpers in Wales, bringing the real work into contempt.

“‘Scream no more at the peril of your soul. God now warns you by me. I never scream, I never strain myself; I dare not, I know it would be a sin against God and my own soul!

“‘Some very unstill sisters, who always took care to stand near me, and tried who could cry loudest, since I have had them removed out of my sight, they have been as quiet as lambs. The first night I preached here, one half of my words were lost through the noise of their outcries; last night, before I began, I gave public notice that whosoever cried as to drown my voice, should, without man’s hurting or judging them, be gently carried to the farthest corner of the room, but my porters had no employment the whole night.

“‘There is a fervor which has passed for devotion, but it is not true, not scriptural devotion. It is loud shouting, horrid, unnatural screaming, repeating the same words twenty or thirty times, jumping two or three feet high, throwing about the arms and legs, both men and women, in a manner shocking not only to religion, but to common decency.

“‘I dislike,

“‘1. Speaking or praying of several at once.

“‘2. Praying to the Son of God only, or more than to the Father.

“‘3. The use of improper expressions in prayer.

“‘4. The using poor, flat, bald hymns.

“‘5. Those never kneeling in prayer. (They sat on the floor.)

“‘6. Your using postures or gestures highly indecent.

“‘7. Your screaming, so as to make the words unintelligible.

“‘8. Your affirming people will be justified or sanctified just now.

“‘9. The affirming they are where they are not.

“‘10. The bidding them, “I believe.”

“‘11. The bitterly condemning any that oppose, calling them wolves, etc., and pronouncing them hypocrites, or not justified!’

“These are Wesley’s words, and you have been doing here nearly all he so severely rebukes. What you call the work of God, he calls the work of Satan.”

“Let us pray,” said the Elder, with an awful groan. And such a prayer! It was not praying, but rather the ravings of a mad man, and the crowd raved with him. He called me the devil, and said I had slandered the sainted Wesley, and had come there to stop the work of God. He beseeched the Lord, either to convert my soul or send me to hell. When he was through, I told him that his performance was more like the ravings of a maniac, than the simple prayer of a Christian, and bid him good by.

After spending six months in this region, traveling and preaching constantly, and seeing but slim prospect for establishing our cause permanently there, and receiving hardly any compensation for all my hard labor, and many privations, I resolved to go to Pittsburg, Pa. The truth is, I was much discouraged. I had labored one year in Maryland, and found but few sympathizers with me or my faith, and had not received fifty dollars for all my toil. I was tired of traveling, and longed for an abiding place where I could preach without being constantly on the wing, and where I could pursue my studies. I was not avaricious, but thought, as I devoted all my time to the ministry, I ought to be comfortably supported. I regretted having come to the state, and certainly should not have been there, had I known the religious character of the people, and how few friends we had in that region.

CHAPTER II.

In Pittsburg—S. A. Davis, Wife and Daughter—The West—Preaches in Pennsylvania and Ohio—Western Reserve—Talk with a Bigot—Conversation on a Steamboat—Forbidden to Preach—Grave Creek—A Mound—My Study—What is Salvation?—Proceedings in Bainbridge—Mud—In Cincinnati—General Harrison—In Rising Sun, Patriot—Preaches in Louisville, Ky.—E. M. Pingree—On the Mississippi River—Preaches in a Steamboat—In New Orleans—Battle Ground.

I went to Pittsburg by stage, stopped at several places on the road, and delivered my message. Arriving in that city, I became acquainted with S. A. Davis, pastor of the church there, and publisher of the Glad Tidings, a paper devoted to the good cause. His church was numerically feeble, for liberal principles had just begun to take root in that city as in the West generally. Mr. Davis worked hard in the double capacity of pastor and editor. He was a pleasant speaker, fair writer, and a very excellent man. His wife, who long since went to the better world, possessed much talent, and wrote clever articles for the Glad Tidings. He now resides in the East, and is still in the Master’s service. His daughter, Minnie Davis, is one of the best female writers in the denomination. She has written several excellent books, and contributes liberally to our periodical literature.

I had crossed the mountain barrier between the East and the West, and was then in the Mississippi Valley—merely though on its border. Its hills and vales, its forests and prairies, its rivers and lakes, were all before me towards the setting sun. Compare the West then to the West now. Never since earth’s foundation was laid, has any country exhibited such rapid progress in so few years. The West has made a thousand years growth in twenty-five years. And is it destined to continue to grow at that rate? The signs of the times indicate that it is even so. The most vivid imagination can form but a faint conception of the future greatness of the West. Columbus, romantic and extravagant as were his visions, could not have dreamed of half the glory of the future West. Here fiction has already become fact, and dreams realities.

I effected arrangements to travel and preach in Pennsylvania and Ohio, for I soon learned that our friends were few in the West, and that I should have to travel extensively. I submitted to my fate and went to work. Visited several places in Pennsylvania, but meeting with little encouragement, I passed into Ohio, where I found more friends. Preached in many places in the Western Reserve, generally had large congregations, and found many devoted believers in the Great Salvation. A large portion of the population of the Reserve were from the Eastern states, and they brought industrious habits, correct moral principles, and liberal religious sentiments with them—the right kind of soil for Universalism to grow in. But where wheat grows, there grows chaff, and I encountered some intolerable bigotry in that region. In Ashtabula a vinegar-faced gentleman accosted me thus:

“I understand you are a Universalist preacher.”

“You have been correctly informed. Universalism is only another name for the gospel. ‘A rose,’ you know, ‘by any other name would smell as sweet.’”

“Sweet! Universalism the gospel! It is neither sweet nor the gospel. It is a loathsome spawn from hell, the meanest of all the devil’s mean works, and you ought not to be allowed to teach it to immortal souls. I would put a stop to such preaching had I the power.”

“Very likely you would, for you look like a villain. The mark of the beast is on you, and you would, doubtless, like to be about your master’s business. The world has been cursed a long time with the spirit you possess, and with men of your character, and that spirit, and that breed are not yet dead. Bigots and hypocrites like you, nailed the Savior of man to the cross, stoned Stephen, murdered the apostles, and crucified, burnt, hung, beheaded, and quartered, the saints of God in all ages.”

“If I believed as you do, I would take my fill of sin.”

“You are full of sin now.”

“What do you preach for?”

“To reform such men as you. You may think you are a Christian of the first water, but you know nothing about Christianity. The name of its Author is Love, and Christianity corresponds, letter and spirit, with that blessed word. But what do you know about love? and what does your fiery creed know about love? But you know what hate means, and you would pursue all with fire and sword who do not kneel at your shrine. I pray God that you may be converted, that you may know the meaning of love, mercy, goodness, justice, know that they do not signify hatred, cruelty, vengeance, and that God is served when we obey the law of love, not when we hate and devour each other.”

On board of a steamboat, on the Ohio river, I participated in the following conversation:

“I am free to acknowledge, that I cannot reconcile endless misery with the goodness of God, and yet I have to believe in that doctrine.”

“Others have admitted the same. The celebrated Dr. Samuel Johnson, the great moralist of the last century, admitted that God cannot be infinitely good to the victims of ceaseless woe—so Boswell tells us. We judge of a person’s character by his works. If his works are evil, we infer his character is evil; if his works are good, we infer that his character is good. We are safe in judging of God’s character by the same criterion. If he has built an everlasting hell, and will consign his own offspring to its dismal vaults, to be the victims of Almighty wrath, world without end, and all for the errors of a day, it is utterly impossible for Him to be good, much less, infinitely good. Goodness seeks the welfare, not the ruin, of the subjects of its power.”

“But your argument, if it is sound, proves, that God is not infinitely good, for the world is full of misery. All, the old and the young, the good and the bad, suffer.”

“True, there is much suffering beneath the sun, but I think it can be reconciled with the goodness of the Creator. Consider, first, how short is our stay on earth. Some are here a few hours, others a few days, and none but a few years. Suppose there were nothing in this world but suffering, but if an eternity of bliss awaits us on the other side of the river, all the sufferings of earth would afford no evidence that God is not good. For every tear, every sigh, every woe, we should have millions of ages of happiness. But with very few exceptions, if there are any, all in this world, enjoy far more than they suffer. There are more muscles in the face for laughing than for weeping, which proves that it is the will of our Creator that there should be more happiness in our cup than sorrow. As there is more sunshine than storm, so more joy than grief falls to the lot of mortals. But this should also be considered, most of the suffering men endure, they bring on themselves by their ignorance or willfulness. This is a beautiful world, a garden of Eden, and if we observe the laws of the Creator, taste not of the forbidden fruit, but partake only of fruit from the tree of life, there would be but little suffering in this world.”

“But we are informed, that man was forbidden to partake of the tree of life.”

“Adam and Eve were forbidden while they were unrepentant and sinful, and so are all while they possess such a character. We cannot serve God and Baal. If we serve the one we despise the other. We cannot possess a sinful character, and a virtuous character, cannot partake of the tree of evil and of good at the same time. We are driven from the one when we partake of the other. But if we flee from the deadly shades of the upas, touch not, taste not, handle not its poisonous fruit, the tree of life will be accessible to us. We are told that the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations, (Rev. xxii. 2,) showing, that it is now within our reach. Yes, if we approach it with pure motives, clean hands, and reverent steps, we can, even now, pluck its fruit and live. But a flaming sword prevents access to it while we are morally low, debased, groveling.”

“That is a new view of the subject; I will think about it.”

“As all suffering in this world is of short duration, and as we voluntary bring most we do suffer on ourselves, and as we have reason to trust it will all, by our Heavenly Father, be overruled for good, and be succeeded by an eternity of blessedness, I cannot see that the few tears, and aches of this brief life militate against the goodness of the Creator. I am sure, when we shall have passed through the strifes and conflicts of this world, and can see the past in the light of their results, in the light of eternity, we will exclaim, ‘Love and mercy pursued us all the days of our lives.’ But misery without mitigation or end, without one ray of hope, nothing but an eternity of gloom, and the most intense agony, can never be reconciled with infinite goodness.”

A few miles below Pittsburg, in Virginia—I now forget the name of the place—I stopped one Saturday evening, and told the people I would speak to them the next day, if they would give me a hearing. A citizen invited me to his house, and I delivered a discourse on Sunday morning, to a large assembly. In the middle of the afternoon, some ten or a dozen persons entered the house where I was stopping, and after being seated, the following ensued:

“Are you the man who preached in the school house this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we have called to let you know that you must not hold another meeting in this town.”

“Why not? What is the matter, gentlemen?”

“Your doctrine is dangerous; it is infidelity, and we want no more of it.”

“Did any of you hear my discourse to-day?”

“No, and we don’t want to hear such stuff.”

“How then do you know it is dangerous and infidel?”

“We are not here to have a controversy with you, but to notify you that you cannot occupy the school house this evening.”

My host here informed the gentlemen, that he had an interest in that house, and that I should preach in it if I desired to. “This gentleman,” said he, “is a stranger in this place; I heard his sermon in the morning, and although I know nothing about Universalism, he uttered not a word I consider dangerous or infidel.”

“When you reflect,” I remarked, “on the mean business you are here on, you will be heartily ashamed of yourselves, and your conduct. You admit you did not hear me, and yet you are loud and angry in your condemnation. I am a stranger in this place, and to you; I have never harmed a hair of your heads, and yet you treat me with savage rudeness. Is this Virginia hospitality? What do you suppose I teach?”

“We understand you teach, that there is no God, no Savior, no hell, and that the good and the bad, go to heaven together.”

“You have been misinformed. My advice to you is, to acquaint yourselves with the principles you so rudely condemn, for you are as ignorant of them as the Hottentots are of English grammar.”

“We have no more to say to you, except to repeat, that you must not again preach your abominations in this town.”

“I expect to hold a meeting in town this evening, and hope you will attend, and learn something of the gospel of Jesus.”

Exit the inquisitors.

I held a meeting according to appointment, but that company of bigots kept out of the way. They found, however, they could neither rule me or the town, for I had a much larger congregation after their visit than before. Lectured in Wellsville, and a Methodist minister replied in a good natured manner, and we parted in friendship. Proceeded down the Ohio river to Wheeling, where I lectured several times, in a Baptist meeting-house, and then went to Graves Creek, on the Virginia side of the river, and there spent two weeks, speaking most every day in town or country. C. G. Cox resided there, and preached occasionally. My sojourn in this place is a green spot in my memory, for I found some excellent friends, which was really cheering after meeting with so much opposition.

There is an artificial mound here, some eighty feet high, of a conic shape, and very steep. When, or by whom it was made, whether by the Indians, or a race who preceded them, is unknown, and the mystery will probably never be solved. A few years since a shaft was extended through the base of the mound, and a broken arch and some human bones were found in the center, indicating that it was a monumental structure.

A great portion of my traveling at this period was on foot. I often walked twenty or twenty-five miles in a day, and delivered a long discourse at night. Traveling in this hard way, and preaching most every day, I had but little time to read or write. When a traveler asked Wordsworth’s servant, to show him his master’s study, he answered, “Here is his library, but his study is out of doors.” So, like him, my study was out of doors. The Bible was my constant companion, and the portions of it that most interested me, were the New Testament, the Psalms, the book of Job, the Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. When weary, I would sit by the wayside, and study the Book of Life, and on resuming my march, would reflect on what I had read, or arrange a sermon. My discourses were seldom written, neither were they wholly extemporaneous, for I often repeated portions of them.

I journeyed to Steubenville, Ohio, where I spoke twice; then to Marietta, and from thence to Chillicothe, as I was then bound for Cincinnati. In Chillicothe, I remained a week, and lectured four times. While in this place, I had the following conversation with a Presbyterian clergyman:

“What do you mean by salvation?”

“I mean, deliverance from evil tendencies, thoughts, habits, purposes, and all of their long train of results. This is a perfect salvation. It can be only partially enjoyed in this world, at best; it will require the grace, light and wisdom of eternity to perfect the work. It may be commenced here, but cannot be consummated in this lower world. And this is what the New Testament means by salvation. ‘Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.’ Matt. i. 21. ‘Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world.’ John i. 28. ‘Unto you first, God having raised up his Son Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning every one of you from his iniquities.’ Acts iii. 25. ‘There shall come out of Zion the deliverer, who shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob; for this is the covenant unto them, when I shall take away their sins.’ Rom. xi. 27. ‘There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.’ Rom. viii. 1. ‘Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a people zealous of good works.’ Titus ii. 14. ‘Because the creature [meaning mankind] shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.’ Rom. viii. 21. These scriptures clearly teach what is gospel salvation. The recipients of it are liberated from the bondage of sin and error; the ‘chains of darkness’ are broken, and they enjoy a glorious liberty, a glorious deliveration, a glorious salvation.”

“True, that is salvation; but the Bible also speaks of salvation from hell.”

“The only passage in the Bible where deliverance from hell is spoken of reads thus:—‘For great is thy mercy towards me; and thou hast delivered my soul from the lowest hell.’ Psalms lxvi. 13. Here is hell, the lowest hell, and the writer speaks of salvation from it; but this hell is on earth, and the deliverance is a present deliverance. David had sinned, and he expressed his sins and their consequences by the term, hell; but he repented, reformed, obtained forgiveness, and was delivered from the lowest hell into which he had been plunged. And it was the mission of Jesus to save the world from just such a hell, and from no other.”

“But the Bible speaks of salvation from hell in the future world—an endless hell.”

“The Scriptures no where locate hell in the immortal world. It is a condition of moral corruption, and, the world knows by sad experience, that condition is experienced in this life. The terms, ‘eternal hell,’ ‘everlasting hell,’ ‘endless hell,’ do not once occur in the good book. But if gospel salvation is deliverance from such a wretched place, it is remarkable that the sacred writers say nothing about it. The truth is, God never made such a horrible place as theologians denominate hell, and consequently nobody is exposed to its fiery surges, and all this talk about salvation from it, is simply idle talk. But men do cherish evil thoughts, purposes, habits, and the salvation the Bible contemplates is deliverance from those real evils. Here is a trinity of evils, and to sever them from our souls and from our life; to purify our thoughts, correct our habits, and rightly direct our purposes, should be the end and aim of life. But to spend life’s golden moments, trying to dodge imaginary evils, evils which exist only in our creeds, and thereby make ourselves miserable, is foolish, is suicidal. The only hell we need fear is within our own souls, not without, and away in yonder world; and if half the effort was made to save the world from that hell, that is made to save it from imaginary torments beyond the grave, much more would be accomplished for humanity.”

Proceeded to Bainbridge, where I spent several days, and delivered four sermons to an excited people. The doctrine of the Restitution was hardly known there, even by name, but all classes attended my meetings to hear the youthful speaker, and to learn something of his strange doctrine. Some were mad and some were glad. One minister treated me very kindly, and assisted several times in the services, but another was boiling over with rage, but he heard me through. At the close of the second discourse, he jumped to his feet, and told the people that the speaker believed in no hell or devil, and for my part, he added, I would as soon deny that there is a God or a heaven. I kindly informed him that he was mistaken, that he had not understood me; that I believed in all the hells and devils the Bible speaks of, and no more; that possibly we might differ relative to the Bible meaning of those subjects, and that it was very uncharitable to assert that I denied the Bible because I differed from him in understanding it. Doing that is not denying the Bible, but simply differing from the gentleman. He then dashed into Revelation to prove that the devil was a huge monster, almost equal to the Almighty, had his throne in the infernal regions, where he reigned, “monarch of all he surveyed,” and that his eagle eye, from the center of hell, beheld this earth and all therein, and he not only attended to his infernal duties at home, but was constantly besieging every man, woman and child of earth, and never forsook a soul till it was fairly within the gates of the New Jerusalem. I replied, that there was this difference between the speaker and myself—he was a Pagan and I was a Christian; I believed in one God, and he, at least, in two—the God of heaven, and the god of hell. And I exhorted him to abandon his Paganism and embrace Christianity. He cooled down some, and at the close of the meeting gave me his hand. I entered Bainbridge a total stranger, and departed from it with the blessings of many.

I went to Cincinnati by stage, and oh, what roads! There were no railroads then, not even turnpikes. It was mud, mud, mud, nothing but mud; stiff, black, deep mud. I forget how many times the stage broke down, how many horses were killed, or how many times all hands had to get out into the ocean of mud, and pry the stage out of the mud. But I do remember, that when we reached Cincinnati, the horses, driver, stage and passengers, were covered with rich Buckeye mud. Mr. West was then preaching in the Queen city, in a small house, on Walnut street, and Mr. Tizard and George Rogers were publishing the Star in the West. Cincinnati then contained only twenty-five thousand inhabitants, but now its population is fully two hundred thousand. Still, it was then the city of the West. St. Louis and Chicago were then mere villages, now each of them is equal to Cincinnati in population. Surely, western cities are great growers. Preached several times in C., and made many pleasant acquaintances. I was urged to remain and labor in the vicinity, but I had resolved to go South, and no persuasion could change my purpose. I had to learn my mistake by experience.

I went on foot, down the Ohio river. Stopped at North Bend, saw General Harrison, who then resided there, and spent several hours in his company. He was very kind and social. He told me he had thought much about religion, believed in its reality and usefulness, that he could not subscribe to the eternity of punishment, but did not know about the salvation of all; but added the General, “I believe God is just, wise, good and merciful, and that all will end well, but what that end is to be I know not. I must wait for the developments of the great teacher—death.” Soon after, he was elected President of the United States. I saw him several times during the presidential campaign; heard him make his Dayton speech to congregated thousands, and read with tearful eyes, the announcement of his death, one short month after his inauguration, and have since lingered around his grave, on the banks of the Ohio.

I next went to Rising Sun, Ind., where I preached every day for a week. This was my first advent into Indiana. Since then, I have traveled through its length and its breadth, and preached in nearly every town within its borders. Much interest was manifested in the meetings at Rising Sun, and large congregations attended. One man, I was informed, a member of some orthodox church, who attended one of the meetings, became so excited, during the service, that he ate all the tobacco he could find in his pockets—three large plugs. Since then, a society has been organized there, and a church built. Perhaps the good seed sown then, in after years yielded some fruit. Seven miles down the river is Patriot, where I stopped ten days, and delivered five discourses. The principal families of the place were of the liberal faith, excellent people, and practical Christians. They loved the truth, loved to talk about it, and loved to attend the services of the sanctuary. That place was an oasis in the desert—no controversy, no denunciation, but peace, love and harmony reigned. A fine meeting-house was built soon after I was there, and the society prospered for several years. But pecuniary misfortunes overtaking some of the leading members, and the business of the town diminishing, nearly broke up the society. After a pleasant sojourn with the Patriot friends, I went to Louisville, Ky., where I preached several times in a large hall. I had not been in Kentucky before, but since then have traveled extensively in that state. In this city, E. M. Pingree lived, studied, labored and died. He died young, in the midst of usefulness, loved and honored by all who knew him. He was a strong man, gathered many friends around him, and built up what seemed to be a permanent society, but it did not prosper long after his death, and is now extinct. Gad Chapin was in L. on my first visit, and is there still—a patriarch in our Israel.

At Louisville I took passage on the steamer “Commercial” for New Orleans, fifteen hundred miles down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. Nothing of much interest occurred on the voyage. I delivered three discourses, at the request of the captain and passengers, on three subjects—Judgment, Punishment, Salvation—and theological points were the principal subjects of discussion the ten days occupied in going to New Orleans. The merits and demerits of Universalism were pretty freely canvassed by all, from the captain to the barber. Captain Rudd, the commander, was of the liberal faith. I met him in after years in St. Louis, where he died of yellow fever. He was a good officer, and a generous friend.

I arrived at New Orleans in January. Ten days had transported me from winter to summer weather; from where the earth was bound in chains of ice, and covered with snow, to where mother earth was teeming with vegetable life, and covered with a carpet, in which were blended the tints of the rainbow. Jack Frost was busy, biting ears and fingers, in Louisville, but in New Orleans gnats and musquitoes were fully as eager to bite at every exposed point. I heard Dr. Clapp, but he had not then embraced the better faith, and I formed no acquaintance with him. I traveled all over the city, and visited the battle ground where General Jackson gave the English such a drubbing. I wanted to preach on the spot, but could not find a door of entrance. No one seemed to care for any thing but money, and dissipation. Mammon and Bacchus were the gods mostly worshiped. The churches on Sunday were nearly empty, but the theaters, museums, gambling dens, and grog-shops, were crowded. There were doubtless some righteous men there, but to a stranger, they seemed to be as scarce as they were in Sodom of old.

CHAPTER III.

A Sea Voyage—A Meeting at Sea—Tornado—Strange Vessel—In Texas—Travels to Houston—Hard Fare—The Country—Sleeping on the Ground—Very Thirsty—Must have Water—Colorado River—Sound Asleep on its Banks—Crosses the River on Logs—Corn Cake—A Surprise—In Houston—General Houston—The Attorney General of Texas—San Jacinto Battle Ground—A Pandemonium—Buck Wheat Cakes—Embarked for New Orleans—A Condemned Vessel—On Allowance—In New Orleans—A Contrast—Ague and Fever—Up the Mississippi River.

Desiring to see more of the world, I embarked for Matagorda, Texas, on board of a brig, bound for that place. A steam tug towed us to the Balize, and we were soon winding our way towards the destined port. There were many emigrants on board, going to Texas, to make themselves homes. As soon as it became known that I was a clergyman, I was invited to hold services. I stood on the quarter-deck, my hearers, numbering about one hundred, gathered around me—some on deck and some in the rigging. My text was, “And he arose, and rebuked the winds, and the sea, and there was a great calm.” I commenced by speaking of the storms to which the sea is subject, and then spoke of that One, who has perfect control of its mountain waves, and of the hurricane that lashes the mighty deep into such fury. One word from Him turned the headlong tornado into a calm, and the angry surges into repose. Life is a sea, and we are all voyagers, sailing from port to port. Sometimes we have fair weather, and sometimes foul weather. To-day the sun may shine bright, and the air be as gentle as an infant’s breath, and our bark may glide smoothly along, like a vessel on the mirrored deep; to-morrow, clouds and darkness may gather around, the storms of human passion, or of adversity may threaten the destruction of us and ours, and in despair we may give up all as lost. But let us remember, through the whole journey of life, that there is One who controls the storms of life as well as the storms of the ocean, and to every troubled heart he does or will say, “Peace—be still.” A hymn was sung, in which nearly all, sailors and passengers, participated.

In an hour after services, a small cloud was observed in the west. The captain, knowing what it betokened, ordered the vessel put in trim for a gale. In a few minutes, the wind was howling through the rigging, and the vessel plunging from wave to wave, as if eager to flee from the wrath of the storm-king. The gale continued above an hour, when the wind abated, the clouds dispersed, the sun shone bright, and the sea soon became as smooth as a mirror. That latitude, at that season of the year, is subject to such gusts of passion. A few nights after, when I was sound asleep on the quarter-deck, for it was too hot to rest below, one of these gales crossed our track, and a huge wave breaking over the vessel, dashed me across the deck, when I scrambled up, and ran into the cabin, not fancying so unceremonious a sea-bath. One night, a man jumped overboard, and was lost—he must have been insane. Friends at home probably waited with alternate hope and fear for his return, and, perhaps, never knew of his sad fate. At that time, Mexico and Texas were at war, and armed vessels were in the gulf looking after prizes. One day, a large ship was observed in the distance, bearing down upon us, without showing colors. Our captain was alarmed. With a pale face, he eyed the stranger through his telescope. We were all fearful it was a Mexican armed vessel, and that we should be taken into Matamoras; but we were finally relieved by the ship showing English colors, tacking eastward and leaving us.

We sailed up the Matagorda bay a few miles, but the water being shallow, I got on board a lighter, and went to a village, the name of which I do not now remember. When I landed in Texas, I supposed I had delivered my last sermon. I had become tired of wandering about the world, and had had no opportunity to settle before I had concluded to quit the ministry. But going to Texas at that early day to find a home, was certainly a wild and foolish project; and I had been there but a short time, when I repented in sackcloth and ashes, for having taken the step I had, and resolved to return to the United States, and continue in the ministry. I immediately commenced making preparation to go to Houston by the land route, and thence to New Orleans by water. The distance to Houston was one hundred and sixty miles, and I resolved to go there on foot. Being informed that there were but few inhabitants on the road, and most of them in a starving condition, as the Mexican army had the season previous passed through that region, I carried food to last me to the end of my land journey. No tea, coffee, sugar, salt or flour could be obtained for love or money. Every body lived on fresh beef, without salt, pepper or butter, save here and there an aristocrat who had a little corn meal in his larder. I bought some beef, cut it in slices, and dried it in the sun.

With a good supply of dried beef, and nothing else, a tin canteen, a blanket and a staff, I commenced my journey, on foot and alone, through the wild prairies of Texas. I found the country to be nearly all prairie, the surface quite level, and the soil rich and deep. The forest trees were generally covered with ivy, which gave them a melancholy appearance. Live oaks abounded in some localities. Alligators flourished in the streams, and Indians, snakes, tarantulas and horned toads on the land. I often traveled a day without seeing a human being or his habitation. When night came on, I would stop, eat my dried beef, drink some water, which I had carried, perhaps, all day, and then roll myself in my blanket, lay on the ground, and go to sleep, not knowing that there was a human being within miles of me. I was four weeks in going to Houston, and did not sleep in a house one night during that time.

I well remember how I suffered one day from thirst. It was a very warm day, and my little stock of water was exhausted at my morning repast. I expected to find more of the blessed beverage about noon in a small grove. I reached the spot, but no water was there; the bed where there had been a stream was dry and hard. It was a sore disappointment, for I was very thirsty. As I could not eat my dry beef without water, I pressed towards the Colorado river, which seemed to be about fifteen miles distant, for I could see the timber bordering on the stream. I reached the timber a little after dark, but how far it was to the river, I knew not. I plunged into the forest in the direction I knew the stream must lay, as it ran southward. The moon, which had just risen, was my only guide, for be it known, I was on no road. It proved to be about four miles to the river, and how I got through, I know not. There was no path, the thick foliage of the forest admitted but little moonlight, and the underbrush, vines and branches of trees, made the whole distance a perfect thicket. But I went through with a rush, regardless of scratches, snakes, or anything else, for water I must have. About ten o’clock, I reached the bank of the river, reflecting the full moon, which had been my guide through the dense forest; and never did a traveler on the Arabian desert behold the long sought pool with more delight. It seemed to be my friend, my savior; and if I had been an idolator, I should have fallen down and worshiped it. I filled my canteen, and drank till I was satisfied. I then bathed my head, face, hands and feet in the glorious river. On the bank I partook of my humble repast—dried beef and water—with a thankful heart. With my blanket around me, I laid down on the ground and slept, never better, till the hot morning sun, shining in my face, awaked me, when it was about two hours’ high. I have often wondered how I dared to sleep that night, knowing as I did, that there were alligators in the river, and bears, wolves, and poisonous reptiles in the woods. In the morning, I again partook of beef and water, with an excellent relish.

But a new difficulty now presented itself. A deep river was before me, without a bridge or a boat, and I could not swim. But cross the stream I must by some means. In the first place, I explored the river, up and down, several miles, hoping to find some one to aid me, but not a sign of a human being, or human habitation could I discover. I resolved to attempt to cross the river on a log, and after much hard work succeeded in getting two logs of sufficient size, into the water, fastened them together with strips of my blanket, and with pole in hand, launched into the river. The stream being quite rapid, my frail craft floated down about one mile, but I safely landed on the opposite shore without much trouble. After wandering in the canebrakes two hours, I struck a road, and thanked God and took courage.

I soon came to a house, and had the good fortune to obtain a quart of corn, which I ground in an old coffee mill, and made some excellent corn bread of meal and water. I passed through San Felipe, where was once a village, but only its ruins then remained, for the Mexicans had destroyed it. Waking one morning about sunrise, I was amazed by the presence of six naked Indians, squatted in the grass around me. I jumped to my feet; they saw that I was astonished, but I noticed they smiled. Taking courage by that friendly token, I walked up to them, and extended my right hand. They offered me the pipe of peace, which was gladly accepted. They did not understand a word of English, nor I a word of Indian. We talked, however, in gestures. They remained an hour, when we separated in friendship.

When within thirty miles of Houston, I sold my watch for fifteen dollars, expecting that I should need the money to help pay expenses to the States. After receiving the money, I heard a woman remark, “It will do him no good, for he will spend it all for liquor in Houston.” I suppose she would have thought I lied, if I had told her that I had never drank a glass of liquor. Arriving at Houston, I renovated self and clothing, for both were rather dilapidated. Samuel Houston was then president of Texas. I was in company with him several times, and dined once in the log-cabin, where he boarded. He was a good talker, but an awful swearer. Oath after oath rolled from his tongue without an effort. It is said that General Jackson was an eloquent swearer, but I have doubts of his beating General Houston in that department of eloquence. I witnessed his departure for the interior of Texas, to treat with some Indian tribes. The ferryman did not handle the boat to suit the president, and he poured battery after battery of oaths on the poor fellow’s head. On leaving, he embraced, after the French fashion, his friends, who had followed him to the boat. I was on the San Jacinto battle ground, a few miles from the city. It was a short but decided contest. The Mexican forces were totally routed, and Santa Anna taken prisoner. That battle crowned Houston with glory and honor in Texas. The town of Houston, when I was there, was a moral desert. Vice of most every name and grade reigned triumphant—it was a hell on earth. The Attorney-General of Texas, while I was there, roamed the streets half of one night, drunk, and hatless, coatless, bootless, daring any one to fight with him. The people laughed about it as if it was a trifling matter, and of common occurrence. It is to be hoped that the morals of that place have improved.

Wishing to go to New Orleans by water, I went in a lighter down Buffalo bayou to Galveston bar, where the steamer was anchored. The passage down occupied three days, and that vessel was a perfect pandemonium—the officers and hands were quarreling or fighting most of the time. Dirks and pistols were freely used. Buckwheat cakes and fat hog-sides were served to us three times a day. And oh, what cakes! The cook baked them about an inch thick, without any rising properties, and put them on the table stone cold. Fine cakes—thick, cold and solid. I finally reached the steamer, and the captain promised us a quick passage and good fare. But I soon learned, when it was too late, that the boat was an old, rotten, condemned hulk; that provisions were scarce, and that the captain was a scamp. Time and again the engine broke, or some of the running gear. Water and food soon being exhausted, we were allowed one pint of water and one Boston cracker per day. The fuel being all consumed, we had to burn part of the boat to get into port. We were a week in going from Galveston bar to the mouth of the Mississippi river, when the trip should have been made in thirty-six hours. Fortunately we had pleasant weather, for one such squall as we had going out, would have sent the whole concern to the bottom of the gulf.

When I returned to New Orleans it was mid-summer, and the city presented a very different appearance from what it did when I was there the previous winter. Then business was at its zenith, now at its nadir; then the hotels, streets and marts of trade were crowded, now there was plenty of room; then steamboats and vessels were receiving and discharging freight for and from every clime, now the shipping was very meager; then the weather was pleasant, now the heat was scorching, burning, melting; then it was healthy, now the yellow fever and almost every other fever, was raging. Exposure and hard fare in Texas, ultimated in ague and fever. I had several chills while in Houston; when at sea beyond the land breeze, I was free from them; but as soon as I inhaled the air from shore, they returned with increased violence, and it was two years before I entirely regained my former good health.

I was soon on board of a steamer bound for Cincinnati, and after a voyage of two weeks, landed at Leavenworth, Ind., where I remained three months doctoring for the ague.

CHAPTER IV.

Labors of E. B. Mann—N. Wadsworth—Owner of a Horse—Preach in Indiana and Kentucky—A Profane Life—General Clarke—Atheism—The Eyeless Fish—A Presbyterian Minister’s Wisdom—No Hell, No Heaven—Travel in Ohio—Another Preacher Replies—Labors in Dayton—D. R. Biddlecom—George Messenger—R. Smith’s Somersault—J. A. Gurley—George Rogers—Start for Indiana—Battle in Harrison—Universalism an old Doctrine, and of God—Partialism an old Doctrine, but of Satan—Grove Meeting—Father St. John—Badly Treated—John O’Kane on his Creed—In Indianapolis—A. Longley—A Horse—Questioned by a Methodist—In Terre Haute—Very Unpopular.

Partially recovering, I resumed my former work of traveling and preaching. E. B. Mann resided near Leavenworth, and labored in the counties in Indiana and Kentucky, bordering on the Ohio river. He also distributed a large number of denominational books. His circuit, which was about two hundred miles round, he traveled on horseback, once a month. He was not graced by education or refinement, yet his labors were blessed with a good degree of success. He is now dead, and his mortal remains repose near Leavenworth, the center of his labors for many years.

I lectured in L. and vicinity three weeks, and then proceeded to Louisville, Ky. N. Wadsworth was then residing there, and publishing a paper called The Berean; and at his earnest solicitation, I spent three months in obtaining subscribers for it. Mr. W. was formerly a Methodist minister, but then cherished a more liberal faith. His talent was above mediocrity, his acquirements fair, was a good man, and devoted to the cause he espoused, and the profession of his choice. He was small in stature, and feeble in health—too small and feeble for his large and active mind. A year after, he moved to Troy, Mo., his periodical was discontinued, and he died of consumption, after laboring there with excellent success, about one year. His widow resides there still, and although she has changed her name, the home of brother and sister Sydnor is ever a welcome retreat for our ministers. It has been my privilege to spend many pleasant hours in their company. The humble grave of my early friend is in the Troy cemetery; and I have read the brief monumental inscription on the cold marble at its head, through tearful eyes.

I bought a horse of Mr. Wadsworth, and agreed to pay him in obtaining subscribers for his paper. It was the first horse I ever owned, and I felt quite rich, and very independent. I preached in most of the towns within fifty miles of Louisville, in Kentucky and Indiana. In Salem, Ind., I delivered a series of sermons. A merchant there told me that his counting-room was his chapel, his ledger his Bible, and money his religion. He was then doing a large and lucrative business. A few years after, he had no counting-room, no ledger, no money, and died a miserable death—the natural result of so profane a life. General Clarke, an old Indian warrior, resided near Salem. He attended my meetings, and I was often at his house. He said he had helped steal Kentucky and Indiana from the Indians. He was an intelligent man, but a zealous Atheist. He admitted that faith in a God of goodness, wisdom and justice, and in the immortal blessedness of mankind, was more satisfactory, and yielded more happiness than Atheism; and if such exalted and benevolent sentiments had received his attention ere his present views had become permanently established, he might have embraced them, but now he was too old to learn. I used to rejoin, that his admission was fatal to his creed. If a belief in God and immortality confers more happiness than the denial of a God, and a hereafter, that was the best evidence that Atheism was false, and religion truth, for truth always confers more happiness than error. Virtue is truth and vice is falsehood, because the former is adapted to our nature, and makes us happy, while the latter is a violation of our nature, and darkens and deforms the mind. For the same reason your theory, I would add, must be false, and mine correct. Not “too old to learn,” General. Your body is frail—it has been dying these many years, but your mind is vigorous. Why stop learning? If religion is true, death, that is fast destroying your body, will not invade your mind—that will live to learn forever.

Near Salem was a cave, containing water, in which were fish without eyes. God creates no superfluities. The fish of every sea, lake, river, have eyes, because there is light in those waters, but the beams of the sun had never penetrated that cavern, therefore eyes were useless, and hence the denizens of that eternal dungeon, have no visional organ. Nothing is created in vain; every thing answers some useful purpose in the economy of the Creator. Here is a solid foundation on which to rest.

In Bedford, Ind., a Presbyterian minister abruptly attacked me at the close of a discourse. “If the pains of the damned will cease,” said he, “so will the joys of the saved; for the words that express the misery of the one, express the happiness of the other.” Never, I replied, was a man more mistaken. The Bible speaks of endless life, but not a word about endless death. The terms, “endless death,” “endless misery,” “endless woe,” “endless damnation,” “endless hell,” found in the creeds of men, do not once occur in the Bible. Read all that Moses and the prophets, Jesus and the apostles, said or wrote, and you will not find those terms once, not even once, in the Old or New Testaments. “Endless” life is a Bible term, but those other endlesses are wretched fictions. The Bible says, “O hell, I will be thy destruction;” but where does it say, “O heaven, I will be thy destruction?!”

Finding but few persons of the liberal faith in the vicinity of Louisville, I concluded to go to Ohio. Preached in Cincinnati, Mount Healthy, Hamilton, Oxford and Middletown. In the latter place a clergyman attended my meetings, and at the close of every sermon entered his solemn protest against what had been said. He was a German, and in one of his harangues said, “This fellow believes the fire will be squenched, and I believe the fire will not be squenched.” But he became so interested, that he proposed traveling with me a few weeks, but not caring about his company, I did not accept of his proposition.

Proceeded to Dayton; and having reference to no one, I called on the sheriff, and engaged the Court-house for the next day—Sunday. Wrote some notices of the proposed meeting, and while putting them up in different parts of the town, a gentleman introduced himself, who proved to be the mayor of the city. He kindly informed me of a man of my faith, on whom I called, and was received with a hearty welcome. I delivered two discourses on Sunday, and on Monday morning was preparing to leave town, when several friends called on me, and urged me to remain, at least, a few months. The town, they said, had just been scourged by a crazy revival, and if I should tarry there awhile, they were sure a good society would be established. I told them I could not remain, as I was under obligation to travel to extend the circulation of The Berean, and must soon have, at least, seventy subscribers, to discharge my obligation to its publisher. “If that number should be obtained in this town, will you tarry with us?” queried the gentlemen. I replied, that I would. Notice was given that there would be a meeting that evening. I delivered a discourse, and at the close of it, a friend informed the congregation, that I had consented to remain three months, if seventy subscribers should be obtained in town for The Berean; and in a few minutes the required number were secured. We soon organized a society, a choir, and our meetings were well attended during my sojourn in that pleasant town. I wrote two sermons every week, and committed them to memory—did not take the manuscript into the desk with me. The society paid me one hundred dollars for my services. My health not being good, I declined remaining after the three months had expired I stipulated to remain. The society, after I left, built a meeting-house, and prospered for several years. I am not informed of its present condition.

While residing in Dayton, I visited Springfield, Centerville, and many other places within twenty or thirty miles of the city, in all of which I delivered my message. In the former place, George Messenger, a minister of the Common Salvation, was residing, and the society was building a meeting-house. D. R. Biddlecom, well known in the West as a minister of the Restitution, visited me while I resided in Dayton. He was then traveling and scattering the good seed broadcast over the land. He now lives in Dayton, and is still engaged in the good work.

Taking leave of my dear friends in Dayton, I proceeded to Cincinnati. Stopped in Mason, and delivered four sermons. Here I met Robert Smith, a singular kind of a man, but of considerable ability. He deemed it wrong to pray in public, baptize, or partake of the eucharist. Some of his views being offensive to our people, he was often coldly treated. This offended him, and he subsequently joined the Reformers, prayed in public, eat bread and drank wine every Sabbath, and taught that immersion in water is a condition of salvation. When I returned to Cincinnati, J. A. Gurley was publishing the Star in the West in that city. He was an active and enterprising man, possessed respectable talent, and was a forcible speaker. He was a popular preacher in the West, as long as he continued in the ministry. He made himself a beautiful home near Cincinnati, and lived under his own vine and fig-tree. Having made two or three hundred thousand dollars—on paper—by Chicago town-lots, he abandoned the Star and the ministry, and jumped into the muddy pool of politics. He was a member of Congress two terms, and when he died, was governor of Arizona. Here I met for the first time, George Rogers, a well known minister of our faith, and the author of several acceptable books. During his brief ministry, he traveled extensively in the South and West, publishing the glad tidings of life and immortality. He was a little man physically, but a great man intellectually and morally; his voice was feeble, but his words were weighty. He broke down a good constitution by hard labor, and died in the prime of life.

Mr. Rogers had recently traveled in the interior and western portions of Indiana, and advised me to spend a few months in those sections of that state. In a few days I was on the road, bound for Indiana. It was then the middle of May, 1838, and I did not expect to return till the latter part of autumn. Mounting my faithful horse, I rode to Harrison, where I preached in the evening. As soon as I had said amen, George Campbell, a Reformer, expressed a desire to reply. He was told he would be heard with attention. Among other things he remarked, “That Universalism is a new doctrine, and therefore cannot be the gospel, for that is old—most eighteen hundred years old.” I replied, that it was as old as revelation; and that several of its distinguishing features were revealed to our first parents by the Creator. To them he said, “In the day you sin you shall surely die.” They did sin, and they died the death threatened. St. Paul calls it a “death in trespasses and in sins;” “to be carnally minded,” he says, “is death,” and he terms this death the wages of sin. This is the death—a moral death—that God threatened the primitive pair; and if we sin we die the same death—no mistake about that. Mark also the important fact, that they were to suffer this punishment in THE DAY they sinned. It was not to be deferred till the next day, next year, or next world, but in the day, when and where they sinned, they were to begin to suffer the penalty of transgression. It is as true now as it was six thousand years ago, that in the day we sin we are punished; it is as true in this town as it was in the Garden of Eden, that in the day we sin we are punished; it is as true of us as it was of Adam and Eve, that in the day we sin we are punished. Truth is eternal; the laws of God are unchangable, the same yesterday, to-day and forever. As sin and its penalty were chained together in the beginning, it is thus now, and ever will be thus. Here then, in the beginning, we are taught the certainty of punishment—“in the day you sin you shall be punished;” and here also we are taught, that punishment is immediate—in the day they sinned the penalty was to overtake them. These ancient truths we believe and preach—they are portions of the gospel. But my friend, Mr. Campbell, denies all this. He contends that punishment is not certain, is not immediate; that a person may sin three-score years and ten, without being punished, for remember, he denied that God judges in the earth; he said, that was a new doctrine, one of our heresies, it was not taught in the Bible. He also teaches, that a man, after spending seventy years in crime of the blackest dye, can, by complying with certain conditions, escape all punishment in eternity, and occupy as high a seat in heaven as St. Paul or St. John. In a word, Mr. C. denies squarely and fully the everlasting truth of the ancient record, that “in the day you sin you shall be punished.”

But the gentleman is not the first to make that denial, and this is not the first place where this truth has been called a lie. He has an ancient precedent, he is following an old leader, has taken lessons from an old master. The serpent preached in Eden’s garden just what the gentleman has been preaching here to-night, with so much zeal. “Ye shall not surely die,” said his snakeship; God will not surely punish you; there is a way to escape. Besides, don’t believe a word of it, that you will be punished in the day you sin. Mr. C. has taken the serpent’s text this evening, and I give him credit for sticking to the text of the father of lies. Our doctrine, then, relative to punishment, is not new, neither is Mr. Campbell’s doctrine, concerning punishment, new. But ours and his came from different sources; one is of God, who is the author of truth, the other is of the serpent, the father of lies. They are both ancient doctrines, but judge ye which is true.

The doctrine of salvation—universal salvation—is not a new thing, either, under the sun, as Mr. C. affirmed. Immediately after sin, and its dire results, entered into the world, and while the first sinners were yet trembling with guilt in the blissful garden, it was revealed to them that the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent’s head. It is generally considered that “the seed of the woman” was the future Christ, whose advent occurred four thousand years afterwards. This seed was promised through the Jewish patriarchs—“In thee and in thy seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed.” And St. Paul distinctly asserts, that Jesus is here intended. “Now to Abraham and his seed were the promises made. He saith not, And to seeds, as of many; but as of one, And to thy seed, which is Christ.” Gal. iii. 16. The seed, then, promised to our first parents, and to the patriarchs, was Jesus Christ. He was to bruise the serpent’s head. Serpent, in the Bible, is a symbol of sin. As a serpent is a low, vile and cruel reptile, so vice is low, vile and cruel. It worms its slimy folds into our thoughts, purposes, character, and life, and is sure to poison every thing it touches. But Jesus Christ is to bless all nations, by bruising the serpent’s head. When we wish to kill a snake, our blows are aimed at his head; so Jesus is to crush the head of the serpent, that is, destroy sin, and thus bless all nations, as the patriarchs were promised.

Three vitally important truths, then, were revealed to mankind in the morning of creation. 1st. Punishment for transgressing is certain. 2d. It is immediate. 3d. Sin and its results are temporary, for it is the purpose and promise of God that the seed of the woman shall make an end of sin, and thus bless all the nations of the earth.

As soon as Mr. Campbell’s discourse was disposed of, a Presbyterian minister, by the name of Thomas, spent half an hour in trying to prove that countless millions of Adam’s race would be the victims of Almighty wrath, world without end. I replied to him, and when we got through it was midnight. The congregation was large, and was so deeply interested that nearly all remained till that late hour. The next Sunday, I delivered two discourses in the Snow Settlement, to immense assemblies. The meetings were held in a grove, and a wagon was my pulpit. In Brookville, I also spoke to the people. Father St. John, a venerable man, resided there, and for many years occasionally dispensed the word of life. His silvery locks are now in the grave, but his soul, I trust, is with God. Spent several days in West Union, and although I told the people that God was their Father, Friend and Benefactor, some treated me with bitter malignity—threatened to drive me out of town, and even to horse-whip me. Since then, a better spirit has prevailed. There is now a society and meeting in that place. Let not the reformer despair if his mission is rejected; every crucified truth will rise again, and go on conquering and to conquer.

Spent a Sunday in Connersville, preached twice, and heard John O’Kane, a noted minister among the Reformers, once. He has, since then, held several oral debates with our ministers. Not knowing much about the faith of his sect, I asked him the following questions, and received the subjoined answers:

“What must we do to be saved?”

“Believe in Christ, repent of our sins, and be baptized.”

“What do you mean by baptism?”

“Immersion in water.”

“Do you mean to say, that no one can be saved without immersion?”

“There is no promise that any one can.”

“That is not answering my question. Do you contend that there is no salvation without water baptism?”

“The New Testament gives us no assurance, that a soul can be redeemed without baptism.”

“But what is YOUR opinion?”

“No matter what my opinion may be.”

“Cannot the heathen be saved without being baptized?”

“I have nothing to do with the heathen.”

“Cannot children, dying in childhood, be saved without being baptized?”

“Yes.”

“Then you admit that one third of mankind are saved without baptism. But you just said, that baptism was a condition of salvation, and that you had no evidence a soul could be saved without complying with that condition. Your system contradicts itself. If God can save one third of mankind without baptism, can he not save the remaining two thirds without baptism?”

“I have no evidence that he will.”

Since I had this conversation with Mr. O’Kane, I have often come in contact with persons of his denomination, and they all contradict themselves as he did. They all assert, that water baptism is a condition of salvation, without any qualification or exception. But after they have laid down this platform, ask them if the salvation of children depends on being baptized, and they will say, nay. Ask them if the heathen can be saved without baptism, and they will give an evasive answer.

I spoke in several of the towns on the National road, between Richmond and Indianapolis, and generally had fair congregations. In the latter place, the capital of Indiana, I delivered several sermons in the Court-house, but found only two families of the liberal faith—C. Vanhouton and A. Longley. The latter was doing business in town, and preaching in the neighboring villages on Sundays. He still resides in Indiana, and is still preaching the gospel. He is a worthy man, and a sincere and devout Christian. He has been a minister of the gospel about forty years. My horse being lame, Mr. Vanhouton furnished a colt, that had never been rode, in its stead; but I soon broke him, and he carried me on my mission very pleasantly. When I returned him, five months afterwards, he jumped with delight. I love a horse, love to ride and take care of him. He is a noble animal, and merits kind treatment from man. But he is often savagely abused. I always want to kick the fellow, who ill treats a horse. He has a bad heart.

I lectured in Greencastle several days. A Methodist minister, desiring to know more about our faith, questioned me thus:

“Do you believe in the Trinity?”

“No; I believe in one God, and no more.”

“What do you think of the person of Christ?”

“He was a created, subordinate, and dependent being; the Son of God, the Son of man.”

“For how many did he die?”

“He tasted death for every man,—‘Gave himself a ransom for all.’”

“Did he make a vicarious atonement?”

“No. He came to teach us that God is our Father, Judge and Savior; that we are immortal beings, shall live forever, and that we should love God, and our fellow men.”

“But did he not come to reconcile God to the world?”

“It was the mission of Jesus to reconcile man to God, by the influence of truth, and his own noble example. God is right, man is wrong, and Jesus preached, lived and died, to advance man in all things pure and good—to make man Godlike, and hence it is said, that ‘God is in Christ reconciling the world to himself.’”

“Do you believe in experimental religion?”

“Religion does no good unless we individually experience its blessings. It is not an abstraction, a speculation, but a reality, something to be known, felt, experienced; it is a life.”

“Do you believe in conversion?”

“Yes; conversion from error to truth, from sin to holiness, from depravity to purity, from a disloyal to a loyal life. But this conversion begins, progresses and is consummated in perfect harmony with the laws of the mind. It is as natural a process as is the growth of the body.”

“Do you believe in a hell?”

“The word hell in the Bible has several distinct signification. 1st. It often means the grave. 2d. Temporal destruction. 3d. Moral degradation. 4th. The state of the dead. But hell in no sense is endless in duration.”

“Do you believe in a general judgment?”

“In a general and everlasting judgment. All are now judged by the eternal laws of God, and we rise or fall, are happy or miserable, as we obey or disobey them. This judgment is also everlasting. Through all time, and through all eternity, happiness will result from obeying the laws of God, and misery from disobeying them. Entering the spirit world, will not change our natures, and the laws of the Creator are the same there as here.”

“But do you not believe in a day of judgment?”

“Yes; in a day and in days of judgment. Judgment commenced six thousand years ago, and it is not yet closed. ‘All God’s ways are judgment,’ the Bible teaches us. Particular calamities befalling nations and cities, are called judgment days. The gospel dispensation is termed a judgment day.”

“But do you not believe in a judgment day at the end of time, when the immortal destiny of each of Adam’s race will be immutably fixed for eternal weal or woe?”

“No, sir; I can find no reason, or philosophy, or scripture for such a notion. The destiny of each individual will not be determined at the end of time, but it was determined in the purpose of God from all eternity. Man is immortal, and is destined to become more and more Godlike, intellectually and morally, as the eternal ages roll along.”

“Are wicked men punished?”

“In the language of the Bible, I believe, that ‘He that doeth wrong shall receive for the wrong he hath done, and there is no respect of persons.’ ‘Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished.’ ‘God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. He that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption.’”

“You deny though, everlasting punishment.”

“I believe in everlasting punishment in the Bible sense of the word, but not in the present popular sense. Punishment is as lasting as sin; but the Bible no where teaches that sin and wrong are immortal.”

“How long do you suppose punishment will continue?”

“I know not how long. If you can inform me how long men will be corruptible, earthy, sensual, I will tell you how long they will suffer.”

“Do you think that in the other world all will be equally happy?”

“There will, doubtless, be different degrees of purity, virtue and happiness, on the other side of the grave. There must be a moral connection between this life and the life to come. As we end here we shall begin there. Character belongs to the soul, and the death of the body will not make a wise man of a fool, or a saint of a sinner.”

“Do you believe in the resurrection of the body?”

“I believe in the resurrection of man, the inner man, that which now lives, thinks, and acts, but not of the body, these bones and muscles, this flesh and blood. This body connects the spirit with the material world, but when it shall be withdrawn from this outer sphere, and live wholly in the interior world, it will have no farther use of this physical frame. It will be clothed there with a body adapted to that heavenly home.”

“Where is heaven?”

“Heaven is not a place, but a condition—a condition of wisdom, purity, holiness. Heaven reigns in that soul, which is loyal to God. There is a difference between heaven and the spirit world. The latter is a place—it may be boundless space. Men may exist in that world without knowing much of heaven, as they do exist in this world without much heavenly mindedness.”

“Well, you entertain curious views. I do not see how you can reconcile them with the Bible.”

I journeyed on to Terre Haute, where I delivered several discourses. This was then a pleasant village, but now it is a large and flourishing town, and one of the most beautiful places in the West. Its spacious streets, flanked on each side by trees, shrubbery, lawns, flower gardens and elegant dwellings, give it a charming appearance. It stands on the east bank of the Wabash river, and on the margin of a rich and beautiful prairie. Subsequently a society was organized, and a meeting-house built, but for various reasons, which I need not name, our cause, for many years, has been in a feeble condition in that city. It has recently revived under the auspices of the Northwest Conference, and an able minister, H. Jewell, is settled in the place. I rode to Vincennes, seventy miles down the river, and preached in several villages and neighborhoods, in not one of which the doctrine of the Restitution had before been proclaimed. The people generally attended my meetings, but I found but few believers in the Great Salvation.

Returning to Terre Haute, I went up the Wabash river, and preached in Clinton, Eugene, Perryville, Attica, and West Point, places I have often since visited. The religious principles I advocated were new to nearly all the inhabitants of the Wabash Valley, where I was traveling. There was here and there a believer, but nearly all the people knew nothing of Universalism. “Why,” said a man to me, “you do not believe in the Bible, do you?” When I informed him that I did, he was much astonished; and he was perfectly amazed when he was told that I found my faith in the Good Book. “I don’t know what you preach for,” said he, “if all will be saved; and as to praying, of course, you don’t pray.” This man’s knowledge of our faith was the knowledge nearly all the people of that region had of it. I was regarded as an infidel, a wolf, a blasphemer, an emissary of Satan. Women crossed the street when they saw me coming, as if I was a walking pestilence; children passed me as if they were afraid, and men looked suspicious when they came in contact with me. But it was not thus with all—far from it. Most of those I met with, though they knew nothing of Universalism, treated me kindly, and listened respectfully to what I had to say.

I spent one month in Lafayette and Dayton, places seven miles apart. A Methodist clergyman, by the name of Smith, attended my first meeting in Lafayette, and gave notice that he would reply in the evening, and invited me to attend and reply to him if I saw proper. Each of us spoke several times, but I was far from being satisfied with my defense. I considered it a failure, though my friends seemed to think I did well. Mr. Smith was a pretty sharp man, an experienced preacher, and accustomed to speaking without preparation. He knew he had the advantage of me, and so followed me up for several Sabbaths, and seemed determined to drive me out of the country, or shut my mouth. We had five distinct encounters, and in the outcome he got the worst of it, for he spent his strength in the beginning of the contest, while I grew stronger as the discussion progressed. Two years after I located in Lafayette, organized a society, commenced the publication of The Christian Teacher, and several years after a meeting-house was erected. In the interim of the discussions with Mr. Smith, I preached in Dayton. Here a school teacher tried two or three times to demolish me, but I survived his attacks. I found some excellent friends in this place, a society was formed, and a few years after a temple was erected.

Preaching, debating, conversation, visiting and riding, occupied nearly all my time, and what reading I did was chiefly on horseback. If I had five or fifty miles to ride, I improved the occasion by reading some useful book. I would pass travelers and farm-houses unnoticed. I recollect, after spending a day in riding and reading, I put up at a farm-house, and told the good woman I wanted no meat, tea or coffee for supper. “What do you want?” said she, with amazement. “A little bread and milk, if you please, and a whole candle, as I wish to write this evening.” The candle was furnished, a pig’s face, a cold hoe-cake, and a bowl of sour milk. She went to the neighboring village, Martinsville, and reported that there was a crazy man at her house.

Proceeding on my journey, with book in hand, I rode to Logansport, where I lectured twice. Have preached there often since. We have now an elegant meeting-house in this pleasant and flourishing town, built by a bequest of Colonel Pollard, who for many years was a prominent merchant of the place. He will long be remembered with gratitude for his noble gift. Though dead he yet speaks. Men of wealth, in disposing of their possessions, would do well to remember religious societies, benevolent and literary institutions, and those tried and faithful men who have grown gray in the service of humanity. Such men devote their time and talent to the world, and old age often finds them poor in this world’s goods. Let the rich, when dying, consider them, and the cause for which they have given their all.

Near Plymouth were congregated six hundred Pottowattamie Indians, preliminary to moving them to the distant West. I spent several hours with them. Asked the chief where they were going. “I don’t know.” “Do you wish to remain here?” “Oh yes, oh yes. I leave the bones of my fathers here; but where will my bones, and those of my children be laid? No matter, no matter. The Indians are doomed.” A father and mother buried their child with their own hands. Not a word was uttered, not a tear was shed. “Lo, the poor Indian!” In a few more years the sun will rise on the last original owner of our national domain. Our swords and our vices have been doing their work of death ever since the Indians welcomed the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock, and they are rising in judgment and condemning us. It seems to be a law of nature, that a subjugated people must either blend with their conquerors or be annihilated. The Indians will not unite with us, and destruction is their doom. The weak, if they attempt to stand alone, fall. Their only chance of salvation is in the alliance of the strong.

Lectured in Laporte and Door village, and then proceeded to Michigan City, where I also held meetings. I also spoke in South Bend. A Presbyterian clergyman opened his battery on me from his pulpit, which has been called the coward’s castle. He said Universalism was false for the following reasons: 1st, It conflicts with the justice of God; 2d, With the mercy of God; 3d, With the love of God; 4th, With reason; 5th, With sound philosophy; 6th, With the law of God; 7th, With the gospel of Jesus Christ; 8th, With the Bible doctrine of sin; 9th, Of punishment; 10th, Of faith; 11th, Of rewards; 12th, Of heaven; 13th, Of hell; 14th, Because it is a new doctrine; 15th, The devil’s doctrine; 16th, A wicked doctrine; 17th, A licentious doctrine; 18th, Wicked men and devils preach it. I replied to his long tirade. Our people now have a society, meeting-house, and a settled minister in South Bend. There is also a society and meeting-house four miles from there, at Mount Pleasant.

I pursued my weary way, on horseback, to Chicago, through swamps, over sand ridges, fighting mosquitoes, fleas, gnats and bedbugs. I used to think in those days that the region between Michigan City and Chicago was abandoned in disgust ere it was half finished. And the few inhabitants on the route were on a par with the country. They lived in a wretched manner, in log cabins on sand ridges, surrounded by swamps and stagnant pools. Since then, railroads have improved the country and the people. Spent three weeks in Chicago, and preached three Sabbaths in an old court-house to large congregations. Chicago then contained about five thousand inhabitants, and was rather a hard looking place. There were no bridges across the river, no paved streets, no railroads, and but little business was done, and its citizens did not dream of the splendid career that was awaiting their humble town. I found some zealous friends of our cause, but there was no organization, and they had never held regular meetings. While I was there, I visited most of the Universalist families, and was urged to settle in Chicago, but I told my friends that it was my mission “to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.”

Leaving Chicago, I turned my horse towards Cincinnati, and passed through Logansport, Lafayette, and Indianapolis. I would ride all day and deliver a long discourse at night. Returned to Cincinnati the last of December, after an absence of six months; and during that time I had traveled twelve hundred miles—all on horseback—delivered one hundred and ten discourses, and received for compensation, one hundred and fifty dollars.

CHAPTER V.

Journey in Ohio—Intemperance—General Baldwin—In Columbus—Death Penalty—How to Deal with Offenders—Preach in Newark and Zanesville—Hell Discussed—Mrs. Frances Gage—Invited to Settle in Marietta—W. H. Jolly—In Chillicothe—Opposition in Richmond— —. Webber—In Kentucky—Dr. Chamberlin—Opposition in Lexington—Is Universalism Infidelity?—A Slanderous Story by a D.D.—In Paris—Excursion to Patriot—A Discussion—Daniel Parker—Cure the Ague—Good Health.

In a few days I commenced a journey through Ohio on my ever faithful horse. Lectured in Mason on temperance. I have seen the blasting effects of rum drinking, but neither my body or my soul was ever polluted by a glass of distilled liquor. Cannot distinguish the different kinds of spirits, and have no inclination to know more about them. Rum selling, and rum drinking, are abominations that make desolate the hearts and homes of multitudes; and it is amazing that sensible men will rush headlong to destruction with the bottle in their hands and their eyes wide open. The guilty parties in this wretched business are, 1st, The manufacturers; 2d, The sellers; 3d, The drinkers; 4th, The authorities that license the traffic; 5th, The communities who empower the authorities to license. Most of the people are guilty, and all suffer more or less, directly or indirectly. But let the friends of temperance labor in season and out of season, to reform the people, and banish the curse from the land. Their noble work will not be in vain; God will crown it with success. I also delivered several sermons near Edwardsville. General Baldwin resided near there—a reliable friend of liberal principles. He was an intelligent and influential man, and devoted to our cause. He was one of the first to make an effort to establish Universalism in Southern Ohio. Although a layman he often spoke in public in its defense. Subsequently he moved to Illinois; but he carried his religion and zeal with him. He died full of years, and went down to an honored grave.

Spoke in Columbus on religion, and delivered a discourse against the death penalty. Universalism repudiates the taking of life. It is wrong for an individual to kill a man; it is wrong for a state to kill a man. But taking of life may sometimes be justifiable. Is this a contradiction? A wretch enters my house at midnight, and attempts to murder my family. Either he must be disabled, or he will kill the whole household. In attempting to disable him I take his life. Am I not justified, although I have violated the command, “Thou shalt not kill?” An army marches through the land, and takes provisions for man and beast, without permission of the owners. Are they not justified, although they have violated the command, “Thou shalt not steal?” A vessel enters a port laden with food; the inhabitants are starving, but the owner refuses to sell or give to the starving citizens. Are they not justified in helping themselves, although in doing so they commit theft? They must either steal or die; and of the two evils they choose the least. It is wrong to steal, but it is a greater wrong to die if one can avoid it. So it is wrong to kill a man, but a greater wrong is committed when an assassin kills an innocent man. But when a murderer is in custody, the safety of no one requires that his life shall be taken. Put him in prison, and keep him there till he becomes a safe man in the community, and if he never reforms, keep him there for life.

The world’s mode of dealing with offenders is radically wrong; there is too much of the leaven of revenge in it. They should be treated as morally insane, rather than as criminals. Our penitentiaries should be converted into moral reform schools, and transgressors should be put there, and retained there, till well qualified persons, who scrutinize their conduct every day, pronounce them regenerated. And he, who may be sent there for stealing one dollar, should remain there till he is no longer a thief, and if he resists all efforts to reform him, keep him there as long as he lives. It is better for him, and for society, that he should be thus excluded from the world. Man has no right to punish his brother man; God has established laws, and if they are violated punishment is sure to follow; and it is our duty to reform the erring. This mode of treatment accords with the gospel, and the spirit of Christ, but the penitentiary, the gallows, and the guillotine, correspond with the spirit of Orthodoxy.

When a great crime is committed our blood boils, and we cry aloud for vengeance; but a little correct reflection on such occasions will do us no harm. The criminal inherited a bad moral organization, and was, perhaps, surrounded by evil associates from the cradle to manhood. All this should be considered in dealing with the fallen; but the law of man sees it not, considers it not. He is deemed equally as blamable as his associate in crime, who was brought up under the most favorable circumstances. But there is a great difference between the criminality of the two. The latter sins against much more light than the former, and is a greater criminal in the sight of God. Most of offenders come into this world “half made up,” and are educated in crime from infancy upward. Let the state take them under its special care and keeping; protect society from their depredations, and strive to make better men and women of such unfortunates.

Preached in Newark and Zanesville. In the former place a preacher deemed it his duty to oppose me, but he did it in a very gentlemanly manner. The subject of my discourse was hell, and the following was the gist of it: 1st. The Bible no where asserts that hell is beyond the grave, and in the immortal world. On the contrary, it teaches that it is on the earth. The lawgiver, Moses, locates it here. “For a fire is kindled in my wrath, and shall burn unto the lowest hell, and shall consume the earth with her increase, and set on fire the foundations of the mountains. I will heap mischief upon them; I will spend my arrows upon them. They shall be burned with hunger, and devoured with burning heat, and with bitter destruction; I will also send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the poison of serpents of the dust. The sword without, and terror within, shall destroy both the young man and the virgin, the suckling also with the man of gray hairs. I said, I would scatter them into corners, I would make the remembrance of them to cease from among men. To me belongeth vengeance and recompense; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.” Moses here tells his countrymen what would be the consequences if they should be unfaithful to the trust committed to them. The Lord would “hide his face from them,” “vengeance would overtake them,” “the day of their calamity would be at hand,” “they would be scattered into all parts of the earth,” “the sword without and terror within would destroy them,” they would be “burnt with hunger.” All these calamities are expressed by the words, “lowest hell;” and the history of that remarkable nation shows that the prophecy has been fulfilled. That nation has been cast down to the lowest hell. David testifies that the results of sin are not far off. “The pains of hell got hold of me; I found trouble and sorrow.” Jesus said to the scribes and Pharisees, “Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers! how can ye escape the damnation of hell.” Matt. xxiii. 33. And then he adds, “All these things shall come upon this generation.” 2d. Hell is no where in the Bible said to be endless; and who has a right to assume that it is endless in duration? Popes, bishops and councils have threatened the world with endless torment, if it did not bow to their yoke, but thank God our destiny is not in their hands. 3d. We have no information of the creation of such a place as Orthodoxy proclaims. We read of God creating the heavens and the earth, and all therein, but not a word about his building a vast prison in which to torment countless millions of his creatures world without end. It is blasphemy to charge the God of love with such work. God is good, and all his works are good. When creation was finished all things were pronounced good. An eternal hell then is no part of God’s work. Let this be remembered. 4th. The New Testament never speaks of any one being saved from hell. It was the mission of Jesus to save us from sin, from darkness, from a lost condition, from slavery, from the present evil world, but there is not an intimation in the New Testament that God sent his Son to save us from a hell of his own creating. 5th. The word hell in the Bible does not signify, according to good authority, a place of ceaseless woe. Dr. Adam Clarke, the well known commentator, says: “The word hell, used in the common translation, conveys now an improper meaning of the original word; because hell is only used to signify the place of the damned. But as the word hell comes from the Anglo-Saxon helan, to cover, to hide, hence the tyling or slating of a house is called, in some parts of England, (particularly Cornwall,) heling, to this day; and the covers of books, (in Lancashire,) by the same name.” This admission is fatal to the common received views of hell. 6th. The word hell in the Old Testament, is taken from the Hebrew term sheol, and learned men of all schools admit, that it signifies the state of the dead in general, without regard to their condition. Dr. George Campbell remarks as follows: “Sheol in itself considered, has no connection with future punishment.” Dr. Whitby, a profound English scholar tells us, that “Sheol throughout the Old Testament signifies not a place of punishment, or of the souls of bad men only, but the grave only, or the place of the dead.” Other critics admit the same. 7th. In the New Testament, the word hell is translated from the Greek term hades, and as that is the Greek rendering of the Hebrew sheol, its meaning is the same as its corresponding word. Hence Dr. Campbell says, “Hades occurs eleven times in the New Testament, and is rendered grave once, and hell ten times. In my judgment, it ought never in Scripture to be rendered hell, at least in the sense wherein that word is universally understood by Christians. In the Old Testament the corresponding word is sheol, which signifies the state of the dead in general, without regard to the goodness or badness of the persons, their happiness or misery. It is very plain that neither in the Septuagint version of the Old Testament, nor in the New, does the word hades convey the meaning which the present English word hell, in the Christian usage, always conveys to our minds. The attempt to illustrate this would be unnecessary, as it is hardly now pretended by any critic that this is the acception of the term in the Old Testament.” 8th. The word hell in the New Testament in twelve instances, is taken from the Greek term gehenna, and Orthodox scholars thus define that word: “Gehenna is a Hebrew word denoting a place near Jerusalem, in which the Israelites, giving themselves up to idolatry, sacrificed children to a heated image of Moloch, which represented the form of an ox. This place, the valley of Hinnom, the Jews afterwards so detested, that they were accustomed to cast into it the unburied carcasses of those whom they desired to punish with unusual severity. It is called a gehenna of fire, because Josiah, in order to render the valley of Hinnom more odious, commanded that filth and dead carcasses should be cast into it; for the burning of which there was kept a perpetual fire.” 2 Kings xxiii. 10, et seq. This is the testimony of Dr. Rosenmuller, and it is the testimony of all the learned, belong to what denomination they may. This is the literal meaning of the word, twelve times rendered hell in the New Testament. Figuratively, it refers to the temporal desolation that was soon to befall the Jewish nation. The damnation of gehenna overwhelmed Jerusalem, the whole land, and the people. Jesus told his countrymen that they had filled up the measure of their iniquity, that the vials of wrath and fiery indignation were about to be poured upon them, that on them would come all the righteous blood their nation had spilt. When these things shall come to pass, said Jesus, “there shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time.” He told them over and over, that all these things would come on that generation. Theologians now locate all that in yonder world. They might as well assert, that the Ohio valley is the name of a place beyond the grave, and the destruction that befell the Indians therein is immortal woe in a post mortem hell.

The gentleman said I was partly right and partly wrong. I met him several years after, and he was then preaching the annihilation of the wicked. He had made some progress, for it is certainly better to burn men to ashes than to burn them forever. I lectured in McConnersville, and became acquainted with Mrs. Frances Gage, who since then has been before the public as a writer and lecturer on temperance and woman’s rights. Notwithstanding her limited education, she writes good poetry and prose, and is a superior lecturer. She is a noble woman, and devotes her life to noble purposes. Spent several days in Marietta, a beautiful town on the Ohio river. I was urged to remain there, and the society offered me five hundred dollars per year, a liberal salary for the times, but I declined. I was fearful that I could not sustain myself in preaching at one place all the time. The friends there had no idea but I could, but I fancied that I knew myself better than they did. Preached in Belpre. Stopped with General Putnam, a descendent of the revolutionary hero of that name—a splendid man, and a devoted believer in the restitution of all things. Here I also met with W. H. Jolly, an early pioneer preacher. He traveled most of the time through the wilderness of Ohio, preaching in private houses, school-houses, barns, and wherever he could have a hearing. He received but a small compensation, his whole soul was in the work, and he was dearly beloved by his fellow believers. He died soon after I saw him, but he is still remembered as a devoted and good man. He had a daughter, a young lady, who wrote well for our periodicals. She afterwards married, and I do not know what has become of her.

I preached in Richmond and Chillicothe. In the former place the meetings caused considerable excitement, which brought out a preacher against me. He abused me, my faith, and every body that entertained it. He was a regular blackguard, and a son of thunder. My clothes being rather seedy, the friends, as a compensation for my labor, presented me with a new suit, and I went on my way rejoicing. A clergyman of the liberal faith, by the name of Wood, resided and preached in Richmond. He, however, soon after left there, moved to Patriot, Ind., ceased to preach, was, for one or two sessions, a member of the Indiana Legislature, and finally died insane. He was a worthy man, but was too easily discouraged to be a minister in the West in those days. Delivered lectures in several places in Highland county. Became acquainted with a brother by the name of Webber, who soon after commenced preaching. After laboring about ten years in Ohio, he moved to Scotland county, Mo., where he died, after traveling and preaching in that state two or three years. His lone grave is on the wide and wild prairie. The last time I saw it a frail fence enclosed his resting place, and that, ere this, has probably disappeared.

I returned to Cincinnati May, 1839. Had been absent five months, delivered ninety-three discourses, and traveled six hundred miles. The succeeding nine months were spent in Ohio, Indiana and Kentucky. Delivered a series of discourses in Warsaw, Ky., which awakened much interest. Dr. Chamberlin, a wealthy and influential citizen of that place, had recently embraced the better faith. He had been a member of the Campbellite church, and all who knew him, freely admitted that his new faith had made a new man of him. It expanded his soul, and opened his hand and his purse. His wealth, time and talent, and the latter was of a superior order, were devoted to the upbuilding of the truth. He distributed hundreds of volumes of our denominational books through Kentucky, and was ever ready to aid every effort to advance the good cause. He subsequently moved to Burlington, Iowa, donated to every Universalist society in Iowa one hundred and sixty acres of land, and, I think, gave the Lombard College, in Galesburg, Ill., ten thousand dollars in cash, besides many valuable books and a collection of American antiquities. Lectured three times in Lexington, Ky. One of the ministers in town delivered a philippic against the new faith; said Universalism was a species of infidelity. I asked, what is there infidel about it? It asserts, that there a God, who rules in heaven and on earth, and in who we live, move and have our being. Is that infidelity? It teaches that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and Savior of the world. Is that infidelity? It declares that God will surely and fully reward every virtue, and surely and fully punish every vice. Is that infidelity? It proclaims that man is an immortal being, and destined to advance onward and upward forever and ever. Is that infidelity? It asserts, that our greatest happiness consists in communing with God, and leading a pure and virtuous life. Is that infidelity? Portions of your system, sir, are worse than infidelity. You are a Calvinist, and in the language of John Wesley, “You may call me an infidel, a Turk, a Mahomedan, but don’t call me a Calvinist. I had rather believe in no God than believe he is an almighty tyrant.” You believe in a burning hell in which God will plunge most of the dead, to be his victims eternally. Is there any thing in the baldest infidelity half as infernal as that? You believe that God creates us all totally depraved, not capable of thinking a good thought or performing a good act, and if we do not change our nature, he will roast us in hell forever. And then to cap the climax of infamy, you teach that God decreed from all eternity, that the victims of perdition should be born totally depraved, should live a wicked life, and in the end should fall into the bottomless pit. If your creed is religion, give me infidelity. To exchange the latter for the former, would be exchanging heaven for hell.

I also lectured several times near Lexington, at the request of a venerable man by the name of Taylor, a relative of President Taylor. Several years after, I heard Dr. Young, a Methodist minister, tell the following story in his pulpit at St. Louis, about Mr. Taylor and an imaginary clergyman: “There lived an old and rich man near Lexington, Ky., by the name of Taylor, who was a Universalist. Some time since, he sent to Cincinnati for a preacher of his choice to come and preach for him, and the preacher having performed his labor, Mr. T. paid him one hundred dollars. All right; preachers should be paid for their work like other folks. Some time after, the preacher visited him again, by Mr. T.’s request, and he again paid him one hundred dollars. He did right,” added Dr. Young. “When the preacher was about departing, he told the old man he needed five hundred dollars, and would be much obliged if Mr. Taylor would lend him that sum for a short time. He lent it to him, and to this day the debt has not been cancelled. The old man renounced his Universalism, and died a Methodist. If any of you doubt the truth of this story, I tell you it is as true as the gospel, for I know all about it.” I called on the gentleman the next day and asked him if he was acquainted with Mr. Taylor.

“No.”

“Do you know any of his relatives?”

“No.”

“But you said yesterday that you knew all about this matter.”

“Brother Kavanagh told it to me, and he learned it from a brother in Kentucky.”

“Now, sir, I knew Mr. Taylor, and I suppose that I am the preacher you referred to, and I pronounce the whole story, save that Mr. T. was a Universalist, and that I preached in his neighborhood, false.”

“Oh, this took place a long time ago, before your day.”

I took occasion to lecture him for telling slanderous tales about the living or the dead on mere hearsay. Mr. Taylor took me to Richmond, where I spoke twice. Two men came to me at the close of one of the meetings; their hearts were full. They thanked God that the scales had fallen from their eyes, and that they beheld the gospel in all its heavenly beauty. I also preached in Paris, Flemingsburg, and many other places in Kentucky. In one place, I remember that in the middle of a sermon I had a hard ague chill, and had to stop half an hour, when I resumed my discourse.

The new meeting-house in Patriot, Ind., was to be dedicated, and a large party of Cincinnatians employed a boat to take them down and back. It was a delightful excursion. We had music and dancing, talking and promenading. George Rogers and E. M. Pingree were of the party—both are now in heaven, I trust. We three did the preaching. J. L. Johnson was installed pastor of the church. He had been a Methodist, his faith was now enlarged, but he retained many of his old notions, and all his Orthodox phraseology, and consequently he had poor success. He soon left us and returned to his mother church. About this time I attended a discussion in New Richmond, Ohio, between Robert Smith, and a Mr. Fisher, a Methodist layman. Mr. F. was an able man, and better qualified to defend his cause than three fourths of the preachers of his order. Both being strong men, the discussion was very interesting. Daniel Parker resided there, and had long been in the ministry. He called himself a Restorationist, and would not associate with Universalists. I suppose his views corresponded with those of Elhanan Winchester. He was a disorganizer, would not form societies, but was a very sincere, devout and good man. He preached one evening, and in the midst of his sermon he buried his face in his hands, and wept like a child. I recollect that he said in his sermon, that he had never believed in Universalism one minute in all his life. In his old age, I have understood, he joined the Baptist church.

My health continued feeble, not having recovered from the ague engendered in the South, but it did not confine me in-doors a day. I had a slight chill every day, succeeded by an inward fever, which kept me in a debilitated condition. Occasionally though I had a violent shake. Often when riding, I would have an attack of the ague, when I would stop two or three hours, and then resume my journey. I took all sorts of medicines, but nothing did me any good. It finally occurred to me that breakfast might have some connection with my ague, as it returned every morning soon after eating. I refrained from partaking of breakfast for a week, and the ague did not trouble me. Two or three times afterwards my morning ague returned, but abstaining from breakfast always prevented a relapse. I was soon entirely free from it, and since then, with the exception of two attacks of bilious fever, one in St. Louis, and one in Chicago, brought on in both cases by walking and riding in the blazing sun, and preaching too much, I have enjoyed perfect health. I certainly have reason to be thankful for the good health I have enjoyed, and for innumerable other blessings, temporal and spiritual.

CHAPTER VI.

A Journey East—Talk with a Baptist Minister—Preached in Delaware and Centerville, Ohio—W. Y. Emmett—Doors Closed—A. Bond—A. B. Grosh—In New England—On the Sea—A Storm—Methodist Preacher Frightened—Blow the Trumpet—In Philadelphia—In Delaware—In Pittsburg—Returned to Cincinnati—Go to Chicago—Bad Roads—In Richmond—Talk with a Quaker—A Spirit Returns to Earth—A Spirit Out of the Body—A Strange Sight—Preach in God’s Temple—Preach in Chicago—Preach in Joliet—Aaron Kinney, an Early Preacher—Bill of Fare—Hard Luck in Magnolia—Why Preach—In Hennepin—Political Humbugs—Opposition in Washington—Justice of God—In Pekin and Tremont—Frozen—A Preacher Replies.

George Rogers had traveled in the Southern states, and was urged either to return or send some one to preach to the people. He could not go, and at his solicitation, I consented to journey in Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, North and South Carolina; and from thence I purposed going by sea to Boston, Mass. February, 1840, with horse and buggy, I started from Cincinnati on what I expected would be a long and hard journey, through a thinly settled region, and among strangers. Crossed the Ohio river, and traveled about ten miles on a splendid pike. But at the end of the pike the sublime and ridiculous joined hands. Horse and buggy plunged from the hard, dry and smooth road into an ocean of mud and water. This enlightened me concerning the condition of the roads generally, and after floundering in the mud awhile, I succeeded in getting back to dry land, and returned to Cincinnati, and abandoned my contemplated southern journey.

I then resolved to go East through Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and Massachusetts, and in a few days after I recrossed the Ohio river, I was on my way, on horseback, to the noted city of Boston. I performed the whole journey, about one thousand miles, on horseback, and it occupied six weeks. I went East to visit my mother, and hurried through as fast as possible. But I could not travel very fast, as the roads were in a bad condition, and the weather was often stormy. Preached in Woodstock, to large assemblies. Spent three days very pleasantly in visiting kind friends, and in talking to the people. A society was subsequently formed and a meeting-house erected. Cyrus F. Wait, then a youth, attended my meetings. He soon after commenced preaching, and labored faithfully in the ministry till 1865, when he laid down his armor and ascended to his God. He lived and labored in Woodstock most of the time he was in the ministry, was an efficient preacher and an excellent man. I delivered several sermons in Delaware, and had the following conversation with a Baptist clergyman:

“You preached in town last night, did you?”

“Yes.”

“If you are right, I cannot be wrong.”

“If I am right in my religious views, you are radically wrong in yours, for I expect we essentially differ. If my views of God, Christ, heaven, hell, man, rewards and punishments, are correct, you are in error, of course, wherein you differ from me. Any one with half an eye, and that nearly out, can see that.”

“Well, I am safe if Universalism is true.”

“You are in a lost condition if it is true. He only is safe whose life is in harmony with the truth. Your mind, I perceive, from your conversation, is darkened by a false theology. ‘Know the truth,’ said Jesus, ‘and the truth shall make you free.’ ‘Sanctify them through thy truth, thy word is truth.’ Jesus attached great importance to receiving the truth. You are walking in darkness, and see that you do not stumble. Truth is a lamp to the feet, and a guide to the soul. We cannot walk safely without that light.”

“But I shall be saved as well as you if Universalism is of God.”

“You will be saved when your soul shall be sanctified by the truth, and not till then. Universalism promises no salvation, in this world or the world to come, without purity of heart. Let that be remembered.”

“But I thought you believed we should all be saved any how.”

“You thought wrong. There is only one way to be saved, and that is, by having our souls baptized with the truth. Those thus baptized are saved, heaven now reigns in their souls, the kingdom of God, which is righteousness, joy and peace in the Holy Spirit, is within them. That is the salvation Jesus lived, labored and died to bless man with.”

Delivered a discourse in Circleville, and formed the acquaintance of W. Y. Emmett. He has long been known in Ohio as a faithful minister of the New Testament. His father was a Methodist clergyman, but the son has greatly improved on the theology of the father. There are three steps from extreme error, in religion, to truth—Calvinism, Arminianism, Universalism. Perhaps Br. Emmett’s grand-father was a Calvinist. Passing on, I lectured several times in Ashtabula, but sectarianism taking alarm, all doors were closed against me, and I proceeded to Conneautville. Ammi Bond resided there. He has recently died. His ministry was confined, chiefly, to the northeast part of Ohio, and to contiguous portions of Pennsylvania. His personal appearance was attractive; had a well formed head, a Grecian face, and the soul within corresponded with the outer man. From here I proceeded more rapidly on my journey. Called on A. B. Grosh, Utica, N. Y., who was then publishing The Gospel Advocate. He possesses fine ability, and is, every way, a noble man. Crossed the Hudson river, at Troy, and after six weeks traveling reached Princeton, Mass., where my mother resided. Visited my old home in Haverhill, and shed a tear over my brother’s grave in Plaistow, N. H., attended a Conference meeting in Boston, and then sailed from Boston for Philadelphia, in the brig Mary Ann, commanded by Captain Chase. We encountered a tremendous storm—an equinoctial storm—which made the vessel roll and plunge at a fearful rate, and set the sailors to telling stories of shipwrecks, ghosts, and home. The captain, who was a member of one of our societies on Cape Cod, related the following of a Methodist preacher:—The previous season there was a terrible storm off that coast, and many vessels were lost. A friend of his, who ran a vessel between New York and Boston, was out in it, and during the hardest of the gale, in a pitch-black night, he was trying to weather Cape Cod, to get into a sheltered position. He had a Methodist preacher on board. About midnight, when it was dark as Egypt, the wind howling, the waves dashing, and the vessel plunging, he went into the cabin dripping with salt water, when the preacher said, “Captain, how are we getting along?” The captain replied, “We are drifting towards the shore very fast, and we shall all be in heaven before morning.” “God forbid,” said the clergyman. This reminds me of a courageous preacher in Indiana. Some boatmen, after toiling all night in a flat-boat on White river, tied up their craft, and sought a place to rest. They selected a barn for that purpose. Over its floor was a scaffold covered with hay, on which they laid their weary bodies to repose. Being much fatigued they slept sound and long. When they awoke, they found that there was a congregation worshiping on the floor below, for it was Sunday morning. The preacher was in the midst of his theme—the judgment day, that day for which all days were made. He had got to where the saints were about to be raised, and he, of course, was one of them. “O-ah,” said he, “I want to go-ah; I am tired-ah of this wicked-ah world-ah;” and looking straight at the roof of the barn, he cried as loud as he could scream, “Gabriel-ah, Gabriel-ah, blow-ah that trumpet-ah, that I-ah may leave-ah this ungodly-ah world-ah, and go to heaven-ah. I-ah say-ah, Gabriel-ah, blow-ah that-ah trumpet-ah this-ah minute-ah.” The boatmen had a tin horn, and one gave a loud blast, which made every worshiper bound to his feet. The preacher stopped short, cast one agonizing glance upward, and then leaped through and over his flock out of the barn, and ran home as fast as his legs would carry him. One old lady, in her haste to get out of the way of Gabriel, broke a limb.

In Philadelphia I was introduced to Asher Moore, a well known minister in the East. Z. Fuller, for many years an influential clergyman in that city, had recently died. Being anxious to return to my western field of labor, I tarried but a few hours in P. Proceeded over the mountains to Pittsburg, by railroad and stage, where I delivered several discourses. From thence I went in a steamboat to Cincinnati; and in a few days, was on the road to Chicago.

A journey to Chicago from Cincinnati was not as easily, or as quickly made in those days as it is now. Instead of a few hours, it took about two weeks of hard traveling to perform the journey. Instead of a smooth, iron road, it was about the roughest and softest road ever traveled by man or beast. Parts of it were railway, but the rails were unhewed logs, and laid across the track, which endangered the horse’s legs and carriage wheels. Portions of the year it was hard to find the bottom of the mud. It was indeed a rough and terrible road most of the way through; and the driver had to keep both eyes open to avoid stumps, holes and quagmires, and often with good eyes, and they used to the best advantage, he did not escape shipwreck. Preached in Richmond, Ind., four times. This is a Quaker town. Had a long conversation with a preacher of that order.

“You do not pray in public?”

“No; Christ enjoined secret prayer.”

“True; but he prayed in the presence of others, and on the cross prayed in the presence of thousands, ‘Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.’ The seventeenth chapter of John is a prayer uttered in the presence of his disciples. The apostle Paul, on one occasion, kneeled on the sea shore in the midst of a large assembly, and vocally invoked the divine blessing. And most of good men and good women in all ages and in all climes, whether Christian or Pagan, have sanctioned the practice. The tongue loves to speak what the heart feels, and a prayer straight from the heart, often has more influence on an assembly than a good sermon. Of course, it is a great sin to pray or preach ‘to be seen of men,’ but praying and preaching with the spirit and the understanding, are heaven-appointed means to christianize the soul. There is, doubtless, much hypocritical praying as well as preaching, but the abuse of a good thing is not a valid reason for its abandonment. You oppose singing, I understand. Why do you?”

“The Friends in their worship are governed by the spirit, and singing is an art, taught and learned, hence they exclude it from their worship.”

“Learning to read is an art, and yet you read the Bible. Speaking correctly is an art, but you cultivate correct speaking in your meetings. The spirit does not teach you how to read or how to speak. Music is a science of which God is the author, and in studying music we learn of the wisdom of God, and in singing we sing his praise. A good hymn sung correctly is a sermon and a prayer; it unites the hearts of all who hear, and stirs the soul to its depths. Why do you all wear the same style of dress?”

“Because we abhor fashions.”

“But it seems to me that your people are great lovers of fashion. There is a Quaker fashion, and you all, men, women and children, stick to it through thick and thin. If one of your members deviates from your fashion he is dealt with as an offender. You do not run after every fashion, but you adopt the fashion of the times of Charles II., and will make no improvement. I despise fashion more than you do, for I consult my own taste, and not the frivolous whims of crack-brains in the nineteenth or sixteenth century.”

A gentleman here told me a singular story. A physician and a lawyer lived in Richmond; they were intimate friends, and spent much time together. Both were zealous infidels, and they promised each other, that the one that should die first, if he lived after death, would return to his friend left on earth if he was able to do so. The physician died, but the survivor thought not of the promise, for he was sure death had spared nothing of his friend. Several months after the physician’s death, the lawyer was astonished to see his departed friend enter his office. He slowly approached the couch on which he was lying, for it was night, and reminded him of their mutual promise; said he had made several efforts before to visit him but failed; told him that both of them were mistaken about death; that the man did not die; he only put off the body and entered on a higher sphere of existence, and that most of mankind were in error concerning the second stage of life, that being much more like this world than many imagined. After an affectionate adieu, he disappeared, promising to return, if possible, but he saw him no more. The gentleman related the circumstance to his friends, and they, of course, laughed at him, and said he was crazy or asleep, whereupon he went before a magistrate and testified under oath, that what he related was strictly correct. He was ever after a believer in immortality; he said he knew there was a future life, for he had seen one from the land beyond the vale.

A gentleman in Ohio related to me the following: He ran a flouring mill, located at the foot of a hill, on the top of which was his residence. His aged father often spent an hour or two in the mill. One day he observed him enter the building, with staff in hand, and after remaining a few minutes, walked out. Nothing was said by either party, and several times they passed within three or four feet of each other. Stepping to the door soon after the old gentleman went out, he saw his father slowly ascending the hill to the house. He immediately had occasion to go to the house, and not seeing his father, inquired for him, and was informed that he was lying down. He went into his room and found him asleep, and was told he had been on the bed a full hour.

Another intelligent friend related the following: His family and another family occupied one house in an Ohio town—the former the front, and the latter the rear part of the building, and a gate, two feet from the front door, was the entrance to the rear of the house. The gate swung hard on its hinges, and with much noise. About ten at night, my informant, from his front door, observed a person on the sidewalk approaching the house; having a peculiar appearance, he requested his wife to step to the door and see who it was. To both he seemed a stranger, and both remarked that he made no noise walking on the stone pavement. When opposite the gate, and two feet from where they were standing, he turned and passed through the gateway to the rear of the building out of sight. Supposing the gate was open, as the traveler did not stop to open it, the gentleman stepped aside to close it, when, to his atonishment, he found it shut. On opening the gate he found that it made as loud a report, and required as much effort as usual. Not being able to account for all this, he inquired of his neighbor if any one had called, and was answered, nay. That night a woman in the rear part of the building died. It is quite fashionable to cry humbug and delusion, when such stories are related; but I do not raise that cry, neither have I a satisfactory explanation of them to offer. The history and tradition of all nations and people are full of what seems to be the supernatural; and if that part is all false, how can we credit the balance of their history? But most people, after all, have, at least, some vague impressions, that the departed have something to do with the world they once inhabited. And why should they not?

I had an appointment in a Methodist meeting-house in Washington; and while the congregation was assembling, the pastor of the church told us we could not occupy the house; such abominable sentiments should not be promulgated in the Methodist meeting-house. I told the congregation, as we were not allowed to occupy the Methodist house, we would adjourn to the house of the Lord—a beautiful grove. This being an unexpected reply, and part of the congregation being rather pleased, the preacher good-naturedly said I might say what I pleased in the Methodist house. Visited many places where I had before spoken, and reached Chicago, August, 1840, where I preached three Sabbaths, and then proceeded to Joliet. Lectured there three times. We have now a society in that place, and a splendid meeting-house. Aaron Kinney then resided in Joliet, and preached there and in the region round about. He subsequently moved to Farmington, Ill., where he and his wife died. He was one of the first ministers of our faith in Illinois, and he labored under many disadvantages. Liberal Christians were few in number, for the country was thinly populated, and he consequently was poorly supported. But he persevered in the good work till death closed his labors. Delivered one discourse in Peru, but did not find a soul that sympathized with me. The congregation was large, but all seemed to be afraid of me. I was informed of a friend, who resided a few miles below on the canal, which was then being excavated. Spent one night with him; and although he seemed to be a good kind of a man, he lived like a hog. The bill of fare for the night was, 1st, A hot night; 2d, A dirty bed; 3d, An army of bed-bugs; 4th, Ditto, fleas; 5th, Ditto, musquitoes. I was glad to leave the dirty hole. Reached Magnolia in the night; and after being refused lodging at half of the houses in the village, a poor drunken man took me in. He treated me to the best his cabin afforded, which was poor enough. Found some friends the next day, and delivered several discourses before I left town. A preacher could not let me pass without a hit.

“If this man,” said he, “is correct, he is a fool for traveling about this new country preaching. If I believed as he does, I would never preach again.”

“My friend,” I replied, “I preach the truth. 1st, Because it is the truth; 2d, Because I love the truth; 3d, Because truth benefits man. But you seem to have more regard for party than for truth. Anything that is not found there you care nothing about, let it be ever so valuable. You need to be baptized with the spirit of truth, for you have been baptized only with the spirit of some party. Jesus, whom you profess to follow, but really run away from, was an ardent lover of the truth. He toiled, bled and died for the truth. He cared nothing about party, but he was as true to the truth as the needle is to the pole. He never varied from it one iota in the darkest hour of his life. When I hear men talk as you have to-day, I know that they know nothing of the spirit of Christ.”

Lectured in Hennipen several times. Dr. Pulsifer had recently moved there from the East, and took much interest in getting up the meetings. Have often been there since, and always found him to be a faithful friend. I met here several families which had formerly resided in the East, and were there regular attendants at the sanctuary, but had not heard a discourse on the Restitution for several years; and it made their hearts leap with joy to attend a meeting of their choice. “Thank God,” said one lady, “for the blessed privilege of hearing the gospel of our salvation once more, before I go hence. The Lord be with you; and may you long live to proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ to fallen, sinful man.”

During this year was the noted presidential campaign, when General Harrison and Martin Van Buren were candidates for the White House, and the whole country was in an uproar. The air was vocal with “Tippecanoe and Tyler too,” and log cabins, and cider barrels were moving in all directions at the beat of the drum. The Democrats disdained such humbuggery, and lost the day, but after that they were not a whit behind the Whigs in all sorts of tomfoolery. Whisky, beer, and such senseless exhibitions, often command more votes than a just cause. This is a lamentable and humiliating fact, and the evil will continue till intelligence and virtue are the ruling spirits of the land. Meeting a boy eight or ten years old in the road one day, he cried, “Hurrah for Harrison.” Wanting some amusement, I said, “You rascally tory!” “Well, then,” said he, as quick as lightning, and jumping from the ground, “hurrah for Dick Johnson and his black ones.” That was a poser for a Democrat, for Richard M. Johnson, who was the candidate for the Vice Presidency on the Democratic ticket, was the father of several darkies. If that boy is living, he is doubtless now one of our stump orators. I made no reply to the little politician, but left him alone in his glory.

Lectured in Washington. A preacher delivered a discourse against the Great Salvation. His chief argument was based on what he termed “the justice of God.” The justice of God requires the endless punishment of the wicked. Some of my remarks in reply were as follows: What the preacher calls justice is injustice, is malignity, dark, cruel, infernal malignity. Because frail, finite man, worm of the dust, steps aside from the line of duty, and thereby harms himself, and no one else, the Creator of heaven and earth must pounce upon him with the wrath and vengeance of a thousand tigers, and pursue him from the cradle to the grave, from the grave to the resurrection, from the resurrection to the infernal regions, and there commission the devil and all his crew to keep up the chase through the length and depth of hell forever and ever. Why, justice would turn pale at such injustice. But to make out that such cruelty is pure justice, the preacher said that man violates an infinite law, and therefore justly merits everlasting hell-torments. Then the transgression of any law of God deserves endless woe. Breaking a bone, cutting the flesh, eating improper food, are violations of God’s laws, and according to the preacher, richly deserve ceaseless punishment. A child or a man steals a pin; that is a violation of the divine law, and both merit eternal suffering. If disobeying of God’s law merits infinite punishment, then obeying of it merits infinite happiness. What then becomes of the Bible doctrine that “eternal life is the GIFT of God?” Rom. vi. 23. If the gentleman is correct, there are no degrees in crime, guilt or punishment. There cannot be if every infringement of God’s law is an infinite offense. He who steals a pin, and he who murders a man, commit crimes of equal magnitude, and both are equally guilty, and deserve equal punishment. If one sin merits infinite punishment, ten thousand sins can merit no more, and God will punish a man for one sin just as long as he will for a million of sins. All mankind sin, and therefore all mankind deserve endless punishment. Who then can be saved, if the preacher is right? But, said he, Jesus has made an atonement for the sins of the world, has satisfied divine justice, and sinners can escape the penalty due their crimes. How is that? The justice of God satisfied with the sacrifice of Christ? Did Jesus suffer the penalty man merits? Did he suffer infinite misery, the few hours he was on the cross? Did he suffer all the pain that all mankind deserve for breaking the law? The preacher must reply, yes. If Jesus satisfied justice for the “sins of the whole world, original and actual,” as his creed—the Methodist creed—asserts, then will not all be saved? Is not God bound to save all for whom Christ made an atonement? If the gentleman is correct—if the law is infinite, if the penalty is infinite, if all deserve endless hell-torments, and if Jesus has made “an atonement, a perfect satisfaction for the sins of the whole world, original and actual,” all are bound to escape, and reach heaven.

But let the law of God be infinite or finite, man’s guilt is in proportion to his knowledge of right and wrong. An idiot may kill a man, but he is not guilty, for he knows no better. An intelligent person would be deeply guilty for such a deed. Our guilt, then, and the punishment we merit, are in exact ratio with our knowledge of right and wrong. These facts upset the preacher’s whole theory of infinite sin and punishment. Justice does not require so much pain for so much sin. To demand that would be vengeance, retaliation, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, just what Jesus condemns. Exercising justice is giving all parties their due—restoring the equilibrium, making the crooked straight, the rough smooth, causing all flesh to see the salvation of God. It is not destruction, but restoration; it does not hurl men from God, but draws them to him; it consigns us not to hell, but exalts us to heaven. This view of justice harmonizes with the mercy and goodness of God, and refutes the line of the poet, that

“A God all mercy is a God unjust.”

Lectured in Pekin three times. We have now a good society and meeting-house in this place. It was then a small village, now it is a large town. Proceeded to Tremont, where I spent several days, and lectured four times. At a subsequent visit to this place, I had an appointment in Washington, twelve miles north, on a cold December Sunday morning. The thermometer was below zero, the snow deep, and the wind blowing hard from the north. Started on horseback, and was soon very cold. I walked, ran, kicked, and thrashed my arms, but this exercise fatigued me, and I remounted my horse, and soon became very comfortable, and congratulated myself that I should get through without further trouble. A hole being in one of my gloves, I noticed that one of my fingers looked rather pale, and I was not long in discovering that I was actually freezing. It was then two miles to a house, and when I reached it I hesitated about stopping, I felt so comfortable. I finally went into the house, and soon found that my fingers, ears, nose, and face were badly frozen. Remained there till the next day, but if I had not stopped, I should probably have frozen to death, as it was several miles to a house, and across an open prairie.

Spoke again in Washington. The preacher I replied to a few days before, was still howling about the abominations of Universalism, but I said no more to him. Went to Bloomington, preached three times, and got into a controversy. The preacher was a strong believer in water baptism—contended that there was no salvation without it. I told him that his creed damned nearly all mankind; that a person might love God and his fellow men, like John, believe the whole gospel, like Paul, repent of his sins, like Peter, but unless he was immersed in water, in the name of Christ, he would be lost forever; if he was correct, heaven would be almost empty, hell crowded; Christ redeem but a small portion of mankind, while the devil would be crowned with nearly all. The wise and benevolent Author of our being bases salvation on principles, not on rites—not on going into water, eating wafers, drinking wine, or offering incense. Love is the fulfilling of the law. God is love, his will is love, his power is love, his spirit is love, his work is love, his law is love, his gospel is love, and our whole duty is included in love to God, and love to man. The great need of the world is, more love, and less show and profession; more purity of the heart, and less washing of the hands; more soul religion, and less materialistic religion.

I proceeded to Urbana. Met a man hobbling along on one leg. He had heard me preach somewhere, and abruptly said:

“If all are to be saved, what is the use of being religious?”

“I see you have only one leg. I suppose you would like to have two sound limbs.”

“That I should. I would freely give my farm for a leg made of flesh and bone, instead of this concern made of wood, iron and leather.”

“You remarked a moment since, that you hoped you were a Christian, and expected to go to heaven when you left this world. Do you expect to be a one-legged cripple in heaven?”

“Of course not; all will have perfect bodies there.”

“Well, then, what is the use of your troubling yourself about your lameness in this world; you will be all right in heaven; you can hobble out your three score years and ten, and then all be well with you.”

“But that is no reason why I should not have a sound body in this world. I want to enjoy all the blessings I possibly can in this world.”

“My friend, you have answered your question. You want a whole limb in this world, if you do expect one in the next. So, we should be religious in this world if we do expect to partake of God’s blessing in heaven, for a religious life only is a happy life, a heavenly life.”

I then proceeded to Perrysville, Ind., in the western part of the state. This was the end of my journey, as I did not return to Cincinnati. I had traveled full eight hundred miles since I left Cincinnati, and delivered eighty-eight discourses.

CHAPTER VII.

Located in Lafayette—The Christian Teacher Commenced—A Circuit—Society Organized—Meeting-House Built—All Alone—Conflict in Frankfort—Old Testament Doctrine of Punishment—Debate Proposed in Frankfort—Discussion in Independence—Character of my Sermons—Slanders Refuted—Debate in Burlington—Endless Woe—Some Voting—The Use of Discussion—A Traveler.

A new era now commenced in my life. I made Lafayette, Ind., the center of my operations, and commenced the publication of the Christian Teacher, a monthly publication of twenty-four pages, at one dollar per year. The first number was issued April, 1841. There were then two other denominational publications in the West—the Star in the West, a weekly, in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the Philomath Encyclopedia, a monthly, in the eastern part of Indiana, the Better Covenant and the New Covenant had no existence, and the Glad Tidings and the Berean were discontinued. There was a large field for a publication of that kind, and I thought it would do a good work. When the first number was issued, I had two hundred subscribers, and at the close of the first volume, eight hundred subscribers. I owned no printing materials, but had the work done at the office of the Lafayette Journal, published by Major Seaman, a zealous Methodist, and an honorable man. He has been in his grave these many years.

In addition to getting out the magazine, I traveled extensively this year, preaching, and obtaining subscribers for the journal. Wherever I went I had no difficulty in introducing it, humble and imperfect as it certainly was. But I was not able to make many such long journeys as I had heretofore, for I had to be in Lafayette monthly to read proof and mail the Teacher. I also established a circuit which I traveled monthly. It included Lafayette, Dayton, Yorktown, West Point, Perrysville, Jefferson, Independence, Rainsville, Thorntown, Crawfordsville, Ladoga, Terre Haute, Lockport, and perhaps two or three other places. The distance round was about three hundred miles. In Perrysville a society was organized this year, and a meeting-house commenced. There was also one formed in Terre Haute, and preparations made to erect a house of worship. In Lafayette, Dayton, and Yorktown, there were also societies established. As I was the only minister in western Indiana, where this work was going on, I had my hands full.

The first time I visited Frankfort, I preached in a vacant lot by the way-side, as no house could be obtained. The Presbyterian clergyman, Mr. Taylor, told his congregation that he had rather the cholera would come to town than a preacher of my stamp. A few months after, he attended one of my meetings, and replied to my discourse. My subject was the Old Testament doctrine of punishment, and I discoursed as follows:

1. As the Old Testament contains a record of God’s first revelations to man, it is reasonable to expect, that the whole truth concerning the consequences of wrong doing would be there clearly stated. 2. As that book speaks of the creation of mankind, and of the introduction of sin into the world, infinite wisdom must surely tell the whole truth concerning sin’s direful results—tell when and where, punishment is inflicted, and how long it is to continue. 3. The Old Testament contains the law of God. Jesus said, “The law came by Moses.” Examine the statutes of any state, published by its law-makers, and you will find that the same page that contains the law also contains the penalty, the whole penalty, for transgressing that law. Is this right, or is it wrong? If it is right for human legislators to write the law and the penalty in the same book, and on the same page, is it not right for the Divine Legislator do the same? Would not a king be justly deemed a fool, or a tyrant, who, in publishing his laws to his subjects, should be silent concerning the penalty, or make known only a part of it? Has God revealed the moral law, and is he silent concerning the penalty for transgressing that law? Is man wiser than God? Does the wisdom of earth exceed that of heaven? All admit, that part, at least, of sin’s penalty is revealed in the Law Book, but many deny that the whole of it is therein revealed. But why this partial revelation? Why was the world for four thousand years in the dark concerning the penalty of sin? For the forty centuries before Christ, was a vast stream of human beings plunging headlong into a bottomless pit, and not a warning given of their impending fate, till they heard the stunning roar of the infernal cataract? This is affirmed by many learned divines. They admit that the Old Testament does not teach eternal punishment, but at the same time they contend, that from Adam to Christ, the penalty for transgression was eternal punishment, and consequently all nations and people were during that time exposed to that terrible storm of wrath. Away with such blasphemous imputations. Wisdom, goodness, justice, assure us, that the great Lawgiver kept nought back of sin’s penalty, but revealed the truth, the whole truth, and at the same time he gave the law. And here it is in such plain language that a child can understand it. I will read from Deuteronomy xxviii.:

“It shall come to pass, if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God, to observe to do all his commandments and statutes which I command thee this day, that all these curses shall come upon thee, and overtake thee: Cursed shalt thou be in the city, and cursed shalt thou be in the field. Cursed shall be thy basket and thy store. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body, and the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy cattle, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shalt thou be when thou comest in, and cursed shalt thou be when thou goest out. The Lord shall send upon thee cursing, vexation and rebuke in all that thou settest thine hand unto to do.... He shall smite thee with consumption, and with a fever, with blasting and mildew; and the Lord shall make the pestilence cleave unto thee, until he shall have consumed thee from off the land whither thou goest to possess it.”

“Moreover, all these curses shall come upon thee, and shall pursue thee till thou be destroyed; because thou hearkendst not unto the voice of the Lord thy God, to keep his commandments and his statutes, which he commanded thee. Because thou servedst not the Lord thy God with joyfulness, and with gladness of heart, for the abundance of all things, therefore shalt thou serve thine enemies which the Lord shall send against thee, in hunger, and in thirst, and in nakedness, and in want of all things. And thine enemy shall besiege thee in all thy gates, until thy high and fenced walls shall come down, wherein thou trustedest. Thou shalt beget sons and daughters, but thou shalt not enjoy them; for they shall go into captivity. And thou shalt become an astonishment, a proverb, and a byword, among all nations whither the Lord shall lead thee.”

This language cannot be misunderstood. No lawgiver ever stated the penalty for transgression in plainer terms. The Jews, if they sinned, were to suffer in body and mind, in head and heart, at home and abroad, till they were consumed from the land. But beyond the land there is not an intimation that endless woe would be their doom. That the apostle Paul understood the consequences of sin to be temporal, is evident from these words, “For if the words spoken by angels was steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward; how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” Heb. ii. 23. The apostle here speaks of past wickedness, and says it HAD RECEIVED A JUST RECOMPENSE OF REWARD, and the countless millions of the dead consequently were not TO BE receiving it through the ceaseless ages of eternity. They had received a just recompense of reward, and were at rest. All the moral elements of the law are as much in force to-day as they were when they were revealed to Moses, and the penalty is the same now as it was then. Good men are blessed now, and wicked men are cursed now. Goodness blesses the one, and vice curses the other. It is as true now of all who have lived, that they have received a just recompense of reward, as it was in St. Paul’s day and generation. The Old Testament, from beginning to end, reiterates the same lesson concerning the present blasting effects of vice in all its varied forms.

Mr. Taylor, in reply, admitted that the Old Testament teaches, that the wicked in part are punished in this world, that they have a foretaste of hell this side of the grave, a morsel of what is in reservation for them beyond the tomb. He also admitted, that Moses did not teach endless punishment, but the prophets did teach it, though not in as clear language as did Christ and the apostles. A future life was only partially revealed during the Law Dispensation; it was reserved for the Son of God to fully bring life and immortality to light. So with regard to hell; it was obscurely revealed by the prophets, but clearly revealed by the Savior of man.

I rejoined thus: “Hell obscurely revealed by the prophets!” And yet, Mr. Taylor tells us, that from Adam to Christ, multitudes were daily dropping into the infernal regions. Hell should have been revealed more distinctly than death or the grave, for it might have been shunned if timely warning had been given. Only think of a God of love imparting existence to human beings, knowing, that by day and by night, from the cradle to the grave, they were in imminent danger of falling into a fathomless gulf, there ever to writhe in immortal agonies, and having his omniscient eye on them during the whole of their earthly pilgrimage—yet only OBSCURELY HINT to them of their danger. What kind of a God, sir, do you worship? But then heaven, he says, was only obscurely revealed under the law. I am amazed that a good, intelligent and learned man should deceive himself by such sophistry. It may be consistent for a parent in his last will and testament to withhold knowledge of a great good for a given period from his children, but he must be a monster to withhold for a moment knowledge of an impending evil, especially if he knows they may escape it by timely warning.

It was nearly midnight when the discussion closed, and I spent the rest of the night at his house, by his request. The next morning, he prayed that I might be converted to the knowledge of the truth, and then proposed a public discussion in Frankfort. The propositions were agreed on, but the time was not specified, and I never could, subsequently, induce him to name the date for the debate to commence. He put me off from time to time, and finally the matter was dropped.

About this time, I had a discussion in Independence, Ind., with Mr. Campbell, a Methodist minister, and that was my first regular oral debate. I had often had skirmishes, but this was my first regular pitched battle, and I went into it with much fear and trembling. I had confidence in the truth, but feared I should fail in defending it. And to this day, I never commence a discussion without similar fears; but when I get excited, and have the measure of my man, I feel tolerably bold. The subject of discussion was endless punishment. Mr. Campbell was a Scotchman, and pretty wiry. The discussion elicited much interest, and large assemblies listened to it. The following is the substance of one of my speeches:

The consequences of sin were revealed to our first parents in the following words: “And the Lord God took the man, and put him in the garden of Eden to dress it, and to keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat, but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Gen. ii. 15-17. Here is the first commandment, and the first penalty, and we may expect that a wise, just and merciful God would inform our race in its very infancy, of the whole results of wickedness. If eternal woe is the penalty, it should have been then and there, at the very gate of Eden, proclaimed in distinct and unmistakable language. This the welfare of man, in time and in eternity, required. If man’s everlasting weal or woe depends on his choosing evil or good in this world, that tremendous fact should have been announced in Eden in such thundering tones, that its echo would reverberate down all the succeeding ages, through every valley, across every plain, over every mountain, so that all the living, yea, the dead, should hear it. If belief in endless woe is the conservative of virtue, and the denial of it infidelity, that dogma should have been proclaimed so loud and so distinct, it should have been so stamped on every heart, that a blazing hell and terrible devils, would have been the first thoughts of childhood, and not to be forgotten till the eyes were closed in death, and the heart ceased to beat.

But what saith the passage: “In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Is that all the penalty? Every word of it. Not a syllable about endless death, endless misery, endless hell. Mr. Campbell, who authorized you to put endless before death? You add to the word of God, and you know what is said of those who do that wicked thing. The punishment was that they should die. The Bible speaks of national death, temporal death, death to sin, and death in sin. But here it cannot mean national death, or death to sin; neither can it mean temporal death, for Adam lived hundreds of years after he sinned. Reference, without doubt, is to death in sin, a moral death—death to purity, innocence, virtue, happiness, which is symbolized by his being driven out of the garden. We were all in that garden once. Jesus took little children in his arms and blessed them, saying: “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” But Adam was cast out, and most of us share the same fate. Adam in Eden represents our childhood, and out of it our sinful state. This death in sin, which Adam suffered, and multitudes of others suffer, is often spoken of in the Bible. Said Jesus, “Let the dead bury the dead;” that is, let the dead in sin bury the temporally dead. “You hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sin.... Even when we were dead in sin hath he quickened us together with Christ.” Eph. ii. 1, 5. This moral death means a great deal. It includes sin itself, and all its moral consequences—degradation, debasement, condemnation, darkness, hell, and ultimates often in temporal ruin. This soul-debasement results in jails, penitentiaries and gallows; in slavery, war and tyranny; in premature graves, desolated cities, and ruined nations.

But where and when was the penalty to be inflicted? Mark the words: “In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Sin and its penalty are bound—chained together. It does not read that they would not be punished till the judgment day, thousands of years hence, at the end of time. That is Mr. Campbell’s theory; but the truth is, that sin and punishment go hand in hand, at all times, and in all places, and if he can prove eternal sinning, I will prove eternal suffering. Notice also, that the punishment was sure. In the day thou sinneth thou shalt surely die. If you jump into the sea, and cannot swim, you must suffer the consequences; if you swallow a dose of poison, and it penetrates your vitals, you must abide the result; so he who transgresses the moral law of God, must suffer its blasting, damning effects. “Ye shall surely die.” Repentance may mitigate the result in part, but the curse cleaves to the sinner till there is an entire transformation of character. But the penalty is not endless, else who can be saved from sin? It was not termed endless when it was first revealed, neither is it called endless in any part of the Bible. The gentleman will have to hunt up evidence outside of the book to make out endless woe for the sins of this life.

Mr. Campbell replied: “That the death threatened Adam, was death temporal, death spiritual, and death eternal; and although it was not termed eternal in the passage, it was clearly implied there, and distinctly taught all through the Bible.”

I answered: Here are two assumptions. 1. That the death was threefold. There is no such intimation in the passage or elsewhere in the Bible. 2. That the death is eternal. It is not so termed from Genesis to Revelation.

But I have not room for more of that discussion. Mr. Campbell seemed satisfied with his defense of ceaseless woe, and we parted in friendship.

I got along better with this discussion than I expected, and was more willing afterwards to engage in such debates. Many well meaning persons oppose the public discussion of religious subjects; they think it does no good, but much harm; but they do not properly discriminate between the abuse and proper use of discussion. That it may be, and often is abused, there can be no doubt; but what good thing can be named, that is not liable to be abused? And it seems that the best of God’s blessings, when improperly directed by erring men, are the greatest curses. Fire, water, air, steam, electricity, when legitimately employed, are vast benefactors to man, but when illegitimately employed, they deal death and destruction all around. Man, when he answers the end of his being, is almost an angel, but when his noble faculties are prostituted to base purposes, he becomes a fiend. The gospel is the power of God unto salvation, to all who cherish it deep in their hearts, but in the hands of wicked men it may deluge the world with blood and tears. So religious discussion, where truth and error grapple, if conducted with proper motives, and in the right spirit, is a lever of reform; it opens the eyes of the blind, unstops the ears of the deaf, and often takes away the heart of stone and gives a heart of flesh; hence reformers in all ages have courted discussion. Socrates was a famous debater, Jesus traveled from town to town, and Paul from nation to nation, discussing with the people, and turning the world upside down. Luther, by his controversial tongue and pen, sent the Pope of Rome, and the Catholic Church, headlong to the gates of their long home. After that tongue was silent, and that pen dry, they rallied, and prolonged their existence. Let every subject of human thought be discussed freely, but kindly, honestly, wisely. It will do no harm, but much good. But I have observed that it is the advocates of established theories, exclusively, that oppose discussion. They do not want their slumbers disturbed by noisy debate; they might wake up and see and hear something new. Cry aloud, reformers, and spare not; do not be afraid of making a noise in the sleepy hollows of the earth. Say to all, Awake, think, investigate, judge. The divine injunction is, “Prove all things, and hold fast that which is good;” “Come, let us reason together.”

There was so much opposition to liberal principles, that the people wanted doctrinal and explanatory discourses, but I always dwelt more or less on the moral and the spiritual. Mere doctrinal and explanatory discourses, without showing the moral and spiritual bearing of truth, do but little good. In almost every place I visited, the preachers were fighting our faith, and slandering its advocates, and our friends wanted me to repel these assaults, which gave my sermons a controversial character, and some times a peppery flavor. But I always kept the great truth prominent in my ministrations, that heaven and everlasting life can be enjoyed in this world; that we should lay hold on them; lay up treasures where moth and rust cannot corrupt, and where thieves cannot break through and steal. And I had the satisfaction of knowing that not only many minds were enlightened by truth divine, but many hearts were improved by its saving influence.

And here I am reminded of another outrageous attack of a Methodist preacher, Mr. Cooper, on Universalists, in Independence. “They are,” said he, “the vilest of the vile. The jails, penitentiaries, rum holes, gambling dens, are full of them. They defy heaven and blaspheme God. This is their general character.”

I replied: This is all slander, and this lying priest knows it. He knows that he bears false witness against his acquaintance, his neighbors, the citizens of this place. He sins willfully, maliciously, and he had better not let the sun go down on his wrath. All who live in this community know that he poured out this day vials of falsehood; they know that some of the best citizens of this county are of the faith he condemns; they know also, that the wicked places he speaks of, in this community, are not filled with persons of our faith. He cannot name a grog-shop keeper in this county, who professes to be a Universalist; but I can name several advocates of eternal punishment, and some of them were once members of his church, who are in that kind of business; and for every gambler here, who ever thought of calling himself a Universalist, I can name ten who will swear over their cards and bottles, that there is an endless hell; and for every Universalist he may produce, who uses profane language, I can produce ten advocates of eternal punishment, who blaspheme God and heaven daily by their profanity. I want no better evidence of the immoral tendency of partialism than the speaker has given to-day; and I am sure that publicans and sinners will enter the kingdom of heaven before characters of his stamp. I do not pretend, that all who call themselves by our name are Christians in life and practice. Are all the believers in immortal woe Christians? History says, no; every man and woman living on earth will say, no. The persecutors and murderers of Christ and his apostles; those who pursued the Christians in the first and second centuries of the Christian Era, with fire and sword, were zealous advocates of eternal burnings. The Catholics who tortured, hung, beheaded, quartered, millions of Christians and Pagans, were all staunch believers in hell. Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Puritans, and Independents, who hung Quakers, burned witches, and persecuted and murdered each other, and the Catholics, were unwavering in the fiery faith. Ninety-nine one hundredths of all the thieves, murderers, pirates, gamblers, rum-sellers, rum-drinkers, are believers in eternal woe. These are facts, which history and observation substantiate. If Universalism had been believed, and preached as long and as generally as eternal punishment has been, and if mankind were no better than they are now, I, for one, would be ashamed to boast of its good moral influence. I do not say that all the advocates of eternal punishment are reprobates. There are noble and pure Christians in all denominations, many of them, more of that character than otherwise, but faith in hell has yet the first Christian to make. Believers in that cruel dogma, many of them, are Christians in spite of their faith in it. The tendency of faith in hell is downward, while the innate goodness of their hearts, and the many truths they cherish, direct them heavenward. I do not contend that all believers in the Restitution are practical Christians. Would to God they were, but I know they are not. But give this divine philosophy time to do its work in the world; give it time to germinate, root, bud, blossom, and yield its fruit, before you condemn it. Belief in vengeance has had ample time to develop itself in human character, and it has produced its like the world over. Give the doctrine of Love and Justice an opportunity to yield its legitimate fruit before you cast it out as evil. Besides, the immoral men, who hang at our skirts, were cradled, educated, and grew to manhood, not under the influence of our benevolent faith, but under the guns of Orthodoxy, and it, if any creed, is responsible for their character. But because Universalism does not do in a day what Orthodoxy has failed to do in years, it is said to be immoral in its tendency!

About this time, I had a discussion in a grove near Burlington, Ind., with Harper Hanna, a Methodist minister, which continued four days. I had not been in the neighborhood before the discussion commenced, neither had a discourse on the Restitution been delivered there, consequently, the people were totally in the dark concerning our faith, and strongly prejudiced against it. On the other hand, Mr. Hanna was in the midst of his friends, and had all their prejudices in his favor. It was a daring thing to debate under such circumstances, but I went through with it, and had the satisfaction of knowing that I did not labor in vain. I had afterwards monthly appointments in the neighborhood. It was amusing to see the people scan me, and watch every motion. If I had been an elephant, I would not have been a subject of more curiosity. The themes of discussion were endless punishment and universal salvation. In my first speech I said:

Put a man in prison and keep him there one year—that would be a severe penalty. Keep him there ten years—that would be an awful infliction. Keep him there his whole natural lifetime—that would be dreadful beyond description. But what is one year, what are ten years, yea, seventy years of imprisonment, compared to endless suffering in hell? Let all the suffering of head and heart, soul and body, that all mankind have endured in all ages, and all climes, be combined in one pang, and that one pang would not amount to as much woe as one soul will suffer if doomed to endure ceaseless misery. The fires in which the damned will live and move, will be in full blast when this earth shall be gray with age, when the flames of the mid-day sun shall flicker like the dying taper in its socket, yea, they will continue to burn deep into the souls of countless millions while heaven shall stand and God exist. That is endless misery; and that is what Mr. Hanna affirms, and is trying to prove, will be the doom of a large part of mankind. It is a dreadful work to charge the God of heaven with doing; to stand up in this beautiful world, amid the manifestations of God’s love, and charge the Author of all these blessings, with inflicting an eternity of woe on worms of the dust. I believe in punishment—in righteous, just punishment—but I do not, dare not, believe, that the Father of all mercies, and whose name and nature is love, will, for the sins of a day, doom innumerable multitudes of his offspring to blow the fires of hell forever.

At the close of the debate, he adopted a little expedient, that he was sure would be a perfect success—to him. He wanted the assembly to decide by vote, which party had triumphed in the discussion. Being in the midst of his friends, and relying on the prejudices of the people, he doubted not that an overwhelming majority would crown him victor. I was of the same opinion for the same reasons, and hence opposed his crafty maneuver. But being determined that the assembly should vote that he was the hero of the day, he requested all to rise who thought Harper Hanna has sustained his propositions. About one fourth of the congregation heeded his call. He looked the picture of amazement at so few voting that he was the conqueror. “Get up,” said he, “you misunderstand me;” and he again called on all to rise, who thought Harper Hanna had sustained his cause. Not another one was added to his voting friends. Finding he could drum up no more, he requested all to stand up, who thought Mr. Manford had proved that Universalism was the gospel. Two thirds of the assembly bounded to their feet. Poor Hanna turned pale as death, and uttering not a word, sunk into his chair.

On my way back to Lafayette, I rode in company with a man who had heard of the debate, but did not know me.

“There has been a discussion,” said he, “in Burlington, on Universalism.”

“Did you attend?”

“No; it is wrong to hold such discussions. Universalism is a lie, and every Christian should call it a lie, and have nothing to do with it, or its advocates. It is the devil who induces Christians to debate with Universalists. It is one of his schemes to lead souls down to hell. Several of my neighbors came home from the discussion, advocating that wicked doctrine. They were Christians, but I fear they are ruined. Two of them say they shall withdraw from our church. Mr. Hanna did wrong in debating with that Manford. He has introduced a viper into this county, and I fear some are already stung to death. Well, I did my duty. I stayed at home, and did all I could to keep my neighbors at home. But they were possessed with a desire to hear the debate, and the result is even worse than I expected. Our minister is going to try to undo the evil in our neighborhood. Next Sunday he will preach a sermon against Universalism.”

“Did your minister attend the discussion?”

“He did; and he says he went there to learn what could be said in favor of such a doctrine. He is sure he can convince all that it is as false as sin. One of my neighbors says he shall send for Manford to reply to him. But he cannot preach in our church. He may be sure of that.”

CHAPTER VIII.

Debate in Lafayette—Die in Adam—Alive in Christ—This World and World to Come—Battle Ground—In Monticello—A Reply—A Preacher Whipped—D. Vines—S. Oyler—I. M. Westfall—B. F. Foster in Indiana—Revival Poetry—Ladoga Camp-Meeting—Worship God—In Michigan City—An Episcopal Preacher—A Wet Ride—Debate in Dayton—Discussion in Jefferson—Everlasting Punishment—End of the World—Second Coming of Christ—Eternal Life—Meaning of Everlasting.

Soon after this, I had an oral debate in Lafayette, with Mr. Jeffries, Protestant Methodist, of that place, which continued four days. One of my principal proof-texts was 1 Corinthians, 15th chapter. I spoke as follows: This is one of the longest chapters in the New Testament, and in it the apostle discourses on very important subjects—on life and death, mortality and immortality, the earthy nature and heavenly nature. There are two general statements in this chapter. 1st. We must all die in Adam. 2d. We shall all be made alive in Christ. I will notice these statements in the order I have named them.

1st. We must all die. “As in Adam all die.” This does not say we must die because a man by the name of Adam did so and so, six thousand years ago. Adam is a Hebrew word, and signifies man. Job says, “Man that is born of a woman is of few days and full of trouble.” In the original it reads, Adam, instead of man. That Adam simply means man, or mankind, is evident from the account of the creation of our race, in Genesis. “Let us make man (Adam) in our image, after our likeness, and let them have dominion.” Here the plural verb shows that the word Adam is employed collectively, meaning mankind. “And God created the man (the Adam) in his own image: in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.” Here both the application of “male and female” to the Adam, and the plural pronoun at the end of the verse shows that the man is used generically, and that it is equivalent to the first of mankind. The word Adam, then, was not a proper name, but an appellative noun for the human species; its application to the first man, as his proper name, was subsequent and secondary. Hence when the apostle says, “As in Adam all die,” he means, As in the Adamic nature, the earthy, corruptible, mortal nature, all die. Adam means mortal man, and all mankind die in that nature.

2d. The other statement is contained in the same verse—“Even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” “Made alive in Christ,” is contrasted with “die in Adam;” and as Adam means the earthy nature, so Christ means the heavenly nature. Here is universal death in the earthy nature, and universal life in heavenly nature. All die on earth and all shall live in heaven. But in the Adamic nature is the germ of the Christ-like nature, as in the corn is the germ of the future stock. In this chapter the apostle gives this beautiful analogy thus: “But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come?” In answering these questions the apostle shows, that the germ of the heavenly man is in the earthy man. “Thou fool! that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die.” The seed corresponds to the mortal body; the germ corresponds to the spirit in man; and as the sowing of the seed develops the germ into a beautiful and vigorous plant, to bask in the sunshine, inhale the air, and drink the dews of heaven, so the death of the mortal body quickens the indwelling spirit, and it enters with renewed vigor on its immortal and heavenly life. The seed then is an emblem of man; its resurrection an emblem of man’s resurrection. Who can deny a resurrection when the world is so full of emblems pointing man to that great fact in his own destiny. “So,” says the apostle, referring to this beautiful illustration, “is the resurrection of the dead”—all the dead, all who die in the earthy nature. In the words, “It is sown,” the writer seems to refer to the seed sown in the ground, still making it an emblem of man. Mankind sown in corruption, dishonor, are raised incorruptible, glorious. The second body is more glorious than the first, as the rose is more glorious than the seed. These citations show what the apostle means by the words, “made alive in Christ;” and remember, that all who die in the Adamic nature are thus to be made alive.

“Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father,” etc. (See verses 24-28). Here we learn what is to be destroyed. 1. “All rule.” 2. “All authority.” 3. “All power.” 4. “Death.” And mark you, that death is the LAST enemy. My friend asserts, that death is NOT the last enemy, but that beyond death, and IN HELL, there are legions of enemies to be the everlasting tormentors of countless millions of mankind. If the gentleman is correct, death is not the last enemy, but rather the first real enemy, and opens the door to the fires, furies, and demons of perdition, which will burn and lash their victims world without end. Let it also be noted, that the last enemy is to be DESTROYED. The apostle continues his statements concerning the subjugation of all things to God thus: “And when all things shall be subdued to God, then shall the Son himself be subject to him, that put all things under him that God may be all in all.” This is the END to which mankind are tending, and this consummation will surely be realized. All sin, error, suffering and death, shall be abolished; all mankind subdued to God, and God ALL IN ALL. The sum of this chapter then is this—all mankind are mortal, corruptible, and must die; death is destruction to the body, but life to the soul; glory, honor and immortality, are the rich inheritance of mankind.

“The apostle,” replied Mr. J., “teaches the resurrection of the body, not of the spirit, and I admit that he teaches the resurrection of all the dead, and when that shall be effected the absent spirits will claim their long lost bodies.”

I rejoined: The gentleman tells us, that the writer of this chapter teaches the resurrection of the bodies of all the dead. If he is correct, God will raise the bodies of saints and sinners, Jews and Gentiles, incorruptible, glorious, heavenly, and when that shall be done, he will unlock hell, and take the deformed, corrupt, wretched spirits, that have been imprisoned in that foul dungeon for thousands of years, and perhaps millions of ages, and put them into those beautiful, glorious, heavenly bodies. That would be a union of perfect purity with total depravity, a marriage of heaven and hell, and two bodies so totally unlike would fly asunder like fire and water. The truth is, the apostle speaks not of the resurrection of this mortal body, these bones and muscles, this flesh and blood, but of the man—the inner, spiritual, real man. This body is necessary, while we are denizens of earth. By means of it the spirit is connected with the outer world, but when we shall be dwellers of the spirit land, we shall have no further use of these mortal tabernacles.

In his first speech on the proposition relating to endless punishment, Mr. Jeffries boasted that he should make short work of me and of my faith. “I have,” said he, “one text to quote, and one question to ask. The text is Matthew xii. 31, 32. ‘Wherefore I say unto you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men; but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men. And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come.’ And this is the question: If the sin against the Holy Ghost was not to be forgiven in this world, or in the world to come, where will it be forgiven? I once had a debate with Jonathan Kidwell, and I cited this verse, and asked this question, and it brought the discussion to a close, for Mr. Kidwell could neither answer the question nor explain the passage so as to save Universalism from total destruction. The debate was to continue four days, but it lasted twenty minutes.”

I responded as follows: The gentleman pretends that he once “used up” one man by one question, and one text, and he expects to demolish me in the same easy and summary manner; but the sequel may show that he is over sanguine. I will show that the passage on which he so confidently relies to sustain his monstrous proposition, affords it no aid whatever.

1. If the words, “this world and the world to come,” mean this life and the life to come, as my friend supposes, then all sin, save the one sin against the Holy Ghost, may be forgiven in the future state. The passage reads, “All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men.” The parallel passage (Mark iii. 28) reads thus: “All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and [all] blasphemies wherewithsoever they shall blaspheme.” It is as clear as daylight, from these passages, that all sins, except the one specified, can be forgiven “in this world or the world to come.” If the gentleman is right in his application of the passage, all sins but one, may be forgiven in the future state of being, and his creed is consequently false, for it asserts that God will not permit a sin to be forgiven on the other side of the river, but every sin the soul harbors when it shuffles off its mortal coil, becomes fossilized, immortal as God himself. He must either abandon his text or his unforgiving creed.

2. The gentleman relies on the word, shall—the sin against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven. That word occurs twice in the passage, and I wish to call his special attention to where it occurs the second time. All sins shall be forgiven. If shall is to be understood in the absolute sense in one place, it must in the other, and then the passage means, that all sin, except that one against the Holy Ghost, SHALL be forgiven somewhere, either in this world or the world to come. The passage, then, instead of blasting our blissful hope and cherished faith, that all sin and wrong will ultimately end, strikes a death-blow at the gentleman’s creed concerning the immortality of wickedness of every name and grade.

3. It is by no means certain, that “this world and world to come,” means this life and life to come. The most learned men of all schools tell us, that the passage should be translated, this age and age to come, meaning the Jewish age or dispensation, and Christian age or dispensation. Dr. Adam Clarke takes this view of the words: “Though I follow the common translation, yet I am FULLY SATISFIED the meaning of the words is, neither in this dispensation, viz., the Jewish, nor in that which is to come, viz., the Christian. Olam ha-bo, the world to come, is a constant phrase for the times of the Messiah, in the Jewish writings.” Bishop Pearce says, “Rather, neither in this age, nor in the age to come;” meaning the Jewish and Christian dispensations.

“Ah!” said he, in his next speech, “if the sin against the Holy Ghost was not to be forgiven in the Jewish age or Christian age, when was it to be forgiven? The Jewish age commenced in the days of Moses and ended when Christ was crucified; the Christian age commenced then, and will not end till death shall be swallowed up in victory. When and where can that sin be forgiven? Will Mr. Manford answer that question?”

Reply. The Jewish and Christian ages belong to this stage of existence, and when the Jordan of death shall be passed, we shall not be living in the Jewish age or Christian age, but in the spirit age, spirit world, and the passage does not intimate that sin or any other sin cannot be forgiven there. The truth is, that the wisdom, the light, the glory of the spirit world will soon transform every soul into its image. When the sun crosses the equator, on the twentieth of March, how dead the vegetable kingdom lies, horror wide extends his desolate domain. But the sun soon begins to impart his renovating grace to root and seed, and the result is, a general resurrection on hill, dale and plain. Nothing can resist his influence; all vegetation comes forth to newness of life. So the wisdom and love of heaven, corresponding to the light and heat of the sun of this world, illuminates and warms every soul, and quickens each and all into newness of life. Say not, then, that sin cannot be put away from the soul on the other side of the river. We should not cheat ourselves by delaying to live a Christian life till middle age, or till we enter the spirit land, but in the words of Dr. Watts,

“While the lamp holds out to burn,

The vilest sinner may return.”

The lamp of life will burn forever, and the time or place will never be known, where and when, the sinner cannot return to truth, to virtue—to God. Every tree and shrub is invigorated and developed by the sun’s life-giving beams, so the great spiritual Sun does not shine in vain; every soul will be blessed by his divine emanations. In the language of the Bible, “All nations whom thou hast made shall go and worship before thee O Lord, and glorify thy name.”

“You forget,” said my opponent, in his last speech on the above passage, “that those who committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, were in danger of eternal damnation.”

No, sir, I have not forgotten that; neither have I forgotten, that if the sin named is absolutely never to be forgiven, the sinner who commits it is not in danger of suffering damnation, but is sure of suffering it, just as sure as he has sinned. There is no remedy, his doom is sealed. These words, then, clearly imply, that the punishment named may be arrested. This is an important consideration. Again, the word, eternal is from the same Greek term that world is, and Dr. Clarke, as we have seen, says it means age, and learned men of all denominations admit it signifies age, time, life-time. I have now noticed every point the gentleman made on this noted passage, and it is evident that it affords the dogma of immortal wretchedness no support.

I delivered several lectures at the Tippecanoe battle ground, and became acquainted with many persons, who have ever since been steadfast friends. This place is six miles north of Lafayette. There is a marsh on one side, and a small stream, with a narrow bottom, covered with thick woods, on the other. The distance from the swamp to the stream is about three hundred yards, and on this narrow belt of ground General Harrison’s army was encamped, and the battle fought. No military man, I suppose, would deem that a safe camping-ground in an enemy’s country. But Harrison did not expect the Indians would fight, but rather treat for peace; but he should have been more cautious. He repelled the attack, with heavy loss to his army, but if he had been defeated, his force would have suffered sorely, for the Wabash river was in his rear, only one mile distant, and that without bridge or boats.

I also preached in Monticello, and was replied to by a Methodist minister. My text was, “Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned.” The gospel, I said, comprises the theological and moral doctrines that Jesus taught. He told men, that God was the Father of the spirits of all flesh; that the high and the low, the rich and the poor, the wise and the ignorant, the black and the white, the slave and his master, were alike the children of God, and belong to and compose one family; that the physical, intellectual, and moral bounties of God’s store-house were accessible to all, and that the Master of the feast invites all to partake freely and live. He had doomed none, and never would doom any, to eternal starvation. “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and ye that have no money, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.” If we are wise and partake of this feast of fat things, we live, are blessed with salvation, and the kingdom of God, which is righteousness, joy and peace in the holy spirit, reigns in the soul. But if we shun the rich provisions of the Father’s board, walk on the other side, choose darkness, error and sin, rather than light, truth and virtue, woe be to us. Every heavenly principle, every law of God condemns us, till we set our faces heavenward, and turn our steps upward.

“There was not,” said the preacher, “one particle of gospel in that sermon. Mankind were lost and ruined by the fall of Adam; the seal of eternal damnation was burnt deep into the hearts of all, by Adam’s apostasy, and God became incarnate to make it possible for man to be saved. Those who believe in the incarnate God are saved from hell, from the wrath of God, and the curse of the fall; but those who reject the crucified Jesus, are lost beyond redemption, and the seal of damnation will burn deeper and deeper into their immortal souls; they will be abandoned by God, Christ, angels, and all the saints will say, amen.”

He was one of the most orthodox preachers I ever heard. When in the pulpit, he was always harping on the mysterious jargons of Orthodoxy, with his face elongated, and a countenance bordering on despair; but out of the pulpit he was a boy, and a foolish boy too. When preaching in Logansport, shortly after General Tipton died, a noted citizen of that place, he cried, “There, General Tipton, that old sinner, is dead and gone to hell.” A son of Mr. Tipton, soon after, met the preacher on a long bridge at Logansport, and with a whip gave him a pretty hard thrashing. He begged for mercy, and promised not to talk in that style any more.

During the first two years I resided in Lafayette, I seldom met a minister of my faith. There were only two others in Indiana at that time, and they were in remote parts of the state, and being aged men did not preach much, but after that time I had more ministerial associates. D. Vines, of Frankfort, spoke some in public, and received Letter of Fellowship. His intentions were good, but his qualifications meager. He subsequently became a Swedenborgian, or a Spiritualist, and I have lost sight of him. Samuel Oyler, of Jefferson, also entered the ministry. He preached three or four years in the south part of the state, and then came out a lawyer, and, I understand, he succeeds well in that profession. I. M. Westfall, of Thornton, left the Methodist church, of which he was a lay-member, and commenced preaching without any preparation, save strong faith and ardent zeal. He possessed a good mind, and soon became a popular speaker. He remained in Indiana about one year, and then moved to Iowa City, Iowa. He continued in the ministry till recently. At the present time he resides in Minnesota, and is practising medicine. At Perrysville, where I had preached monthly for two years, a meeting-house was erected, and a society organized. Being in Oxford, Ohio, I met with B. F. Foster, a young man, who had just commenced preaching, and prevailed on him to move to Perrysville, and take charge of the society in that place. He, however, soon left P. and located in Terre Haute, where our friends were building a fine meeting-house. He has resided in Indiana ever since, and is a popular and useful minister. He has been for many years pastor of the society in Indianapolis, and at the present time he is State Librarian.

An Association, embracing the country from Terre Haute to Lafayette, called the Wabash Valley Association, was organized. The meeting that organized it was held in Perrysville, and it was an enthusiastic gathering. Seven or eight societies were represented, all recently formed. Many went on horseback, in wagons and carriages, thirty, forty, and fifty miles. Our friends were alive with zeal, and did not mind traveling fifty miles to a good meeting.

The United Brethren held a noisy meeting in Warren county, and the following lines were very popular with the Brethren, and they often sung them:

The devil is mad,

And I am glad,

Glory, O hallelujah.

The devil may pout,

But I will shout.

Glory, O hallelujah.

I noticed this meeting, and quoted their popular hymn in the Teacher, and the Brethren in that county were very indignant. At their next meeting one of their preachers took up the matter. “That little Universalist preacher,” said he, “that lives in Lafayette, and prints that Universalist paper, is mad because we sing about his daddy.”

I attended, on a dark and gloomy night, a fanatical camp-meeting of the Methodists, near Ladoga. It was held in a dense forest. When a mile from the camp, I heard the noise of the nocturnal worshipers. Arriving on the ground, the scene that opened to the vision, beggared description. The whole camp seemed to be in an uproar. Preachers were preaching, exhorters exhorting, singers singing, shouters shouting, and jumpers were jumping. Some seemed to be suffering intense agony, others as happy as clams at high water. Some kept their seats, while others were hopping, skipping and jumping like chickens with their heads cut off. One man ran past me without looking to the right or left. “Where are you going?” said I. “To glory.” A preacher screamed as loud as his lungs would allow, “The devil is in the camp, and must be driven out. Get the horn, form in line, march round the ground three times, blow the horn, the devil must be driven out, the walls of Jericho shall fall.” The procession was formed, the horn was blown, and the march was made. Whether Satan left the camp, and the said walls fell at this demonstration, the master of the ceremony did not see proper to inform us. I left the ground about midnight, when the excitement was under full headway, and my reflections while walking back to the village were as follows: Is this the proper way to worship God? Does he require us to make fools of ourselves, and act like bedlamites? Is religion fanaticism? Is regeneration an hallucination? I will not believe a word of it. Religion consists in love to God and man. Noise, uproar, fanaticism are not worship, are not religion, are not regeneration. God speaks to the soul with the still small voice of inspiration and intuition, and the truly pious make but little outward demonstration. Empty wagons make much noise, heavy laden ones pass our streets without hardly being heard. But then I do not wonder at the noise, lamentation, agonizing, and every other extravagance, of these people. They think God is frowning on this world, that his wrath is kindled to its hottest pitch, that he has already banished most of the dead to the infernal regions, and that during every moment of time crowds are driven from earth to hell, and that we all stand on the very brink of a bottomless pit. No wonder the victims of this terrible belief are nearly insane. Strange they are not all raving mad. O God, enlighten their minds concerning thee, whom to know is life eternal.

I visited Michigan City by request, and delivered four discourses. The Episcopal clergyman of the place, took the trouble to go around town, and destroy all the notices of the meetings that were tacked up, and to tell the people not to go near me. But large congregations attended, and all seemed much interested. In one of my lectures I gave a history of the “rise and progress” of the Episcopal Church. Stated that it was conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity; that Henry VIII., universally admitted to have been the most beastly monarch that ever reigned in England, was the first Episcopalian, and the father of the sect; that church from Henry’s day to this day has been a proud, arrogant, insolent, overbearing concern; in England it draws half of its support from unwilling pockets, from those who belong to other communions; that it cares not who starves provided its priests, bishops, and lords live in indolence, race horses, chase foxes, and drink brandy; it never took but one short step from the Catholic Church, the mother of harlots, and it was now creeping back into the arms of its old mamma; but there are some live men and women in the church, and they deplore the stupidity, coldness and old hunkerism of the lifeless body to which they are bound.

The distance from Lafayette to Michigan City, is about one hundred miles, and for fifteen miles on each side of the Kankakee river, there was not, in those days, a house. It commenced raining on my way to Michigan City, when I had reached the south margin of that wilderness of prairie, and it poured down in torrents till I made the first house, thirty miles distant. It was a swamp nearly all the way, and the flood of that day made the road, such as it was, nearly impassable. I sometimes thought I should have to return; but about ten at night I reached a cabin, drenched with rain, covered with mud, and as hungry as a bear.

A Presbyterian elder, by the name of Smith, was eager for a debate, and he was gratified. We occupied the Presbyterian church in Dayton, and the poor elder did one pretty hard day’s work. He was frightened out of most of his wits; his nerves were unstrung, and his hand so trembled he could not hold his Bible to read his texts. I pitied him, but dealt as hard blows as I could strike. He was disgusted with himself, and proposed, a few weeks after, to try again, hoping to do better. We spent two days at Rossville, near his home, and he then willingly retired without further debating.

A few days after this affair, I spent four days in discussion with Mr. Coon, a Scotch Presbyterian, and Calvinistic “up to the hub.” He was a prominent man in his church, intelligent, and well educated. He subsequently published a book of three or four hundred pages, against the doctrine of the Restitution, and in defense of eternal punishment. The discussion was held in Jefferson; and though the weather was intensely cold, a large number attended. Mr. Coon was a strong man, and all were anxious to hear. He had thoroughly prepared himself for the work. It required two or three men to carry his books to and from the church. I had my Bible, and perhaps two or three other books. He talked English, and Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew. Mr. Taylor, a Presbyterian minister, who had just closed an eight days’ debate with John O’Kane, of the Campbellite Church, was one of the moderators, and he prayed for Mr. Coon, imploring the Lord to help him on that important occasion.

“These shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal,” (Matt. xxv. 46,) was one of his proof-texts. “It is evident,” said he, “that this passage teaches the endless punishment of the wicked, for the following reasons: 1. It relates to what would transpire at the end of the world. This, and the preceding chapter, is an answer to the questions, ‘What shall be the signs of thy coming, and of the end of the world?’ Matt. xxiv. 3. 2. ‘These’ were to go into everlasting punishment when Christ would come the second time, and that event was to take place at the end of the world. 3. Everlasting is from the same Greek word that is rendered eternal, and consequently the everlasting punishment is to continue as long as the eternal life. If one will end so will the other end. 4. The best scholars tell us, that the Greek word here rendered everlasting and eternal, signifies endless duration.”

I replied: Mr. Coon tells us, that his text was to be fulfilled at the end of the world spoken of in Matthew xxiv. He is doubtless correct. Now, learned men of all denominations tell us, that world there means the Jewish Dispensation, and the end of the world the end of that Dispensation. Most of them translate the passage, “end of the AGE.” It is so rendered by Doddridge, Macknight, Whitby, Pearce, Le Clerc, Hammond, Wakefield and Kenrick—all learned men, and save one or two, advocates of endless misery. The word, world is often used in this sense in the New Testament. “Now once in the end of the world hath Christ appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” Heb. ix. 24. Christ did appear at the end of the Jewish Dispensation for that purpose. The Jews divided time into two ages—the age before Christ, and the age after Christ. The first age ended, as Paul says, “when Christ appeared.” The end of the world, then, took place eighteen hundred years ago, and then the gentleman’s text was fulfilled.

2. When Christ was to come the second time, some were to go away into everlasting punishment. When was he thus to come? In this same discourse Jesus speaks of that coming, and affirms, that it would take place in that generation. “And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man, ... and they shall see the Son of man coming.” He then states when he would come: “This generation shall not pass till all these things be fulfilled.” Matt. xxiv. 30, 34. On another occasion, addressing his disciples, he said, “But when they persecute you in this city, flee ye into another; for verily I say unto you, ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel till the Son of man be come.” Matt. x. 27. He would come so soon that the disciples would not be able to visit all of Israel’s cities. At another time he said, “For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels; and then he shall reward every man according to his works. Verily I say unto you, There be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom.” Matt. xvi. 27, 28. He was to come the second time before some who heard these words would die. He intimated that the apostle John would live to witness this coming. “Peter seeing John, saith to Jesus, Lord, what shall this man do? Jesus saith to him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Then went this saying abroad among the brethren, that the disciple would not die; yet Jesus said not to him, He shall not die; but, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee.” John xxi. 21-23. It requires considerable effort to misunderstand these plain declarations. Jesus told his hearers, that he would come the second time, 1. In the generation in which he lived; 2. So soon the disciples would not have time to visit all Judah’s cities; 3. Before some he addressed would die; 4. That John, the beloved disciple, might live to see him come. In the face of all this testimony, Mr. Coon tells us, that coming is yet a future event! But the truth is, that coming took place at the beginning of the Christian Dispensation, at the ushering in of the Gospel Age, at the setting up of the kingdom of God. The revelator, who was the disciple John, says, he “saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven.” Rev. xxi. 3. Judaism had passed away, Paganism was dead, and a new order of things had commenced—old things had passed away, all things had become new. The world had entered on a new era. This is what Christ meant by his coming in power and glory.

3. The gentleman truly says, that everlasting and eternal are from the same original word. He then assumes that “eternal life” in his text means endless blessedness, and then infers, that “everlasting punishment” means endless wretchedness. His assumption and inference are alike fictions. According to the New Testament, the Christian, in this world, is in possession of eternal or everlasting life. “He that believeth on me HATH EVERLASTING LIFE.” “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, HATH EVERLASTING LIFE, and shall not come into condemnation, but IS PASSED from death unto life.” John v. 24. “This is LIFE eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.” John xvii. 3. Eternal life is gospel life—spiritual life, and every Christian man and woman is now in possession of this life. When a person is alive to every thing holy and good, possesses the spirit of Christ, and lives the life of Christ, it may be truly said of him, he “HATH everlasting life.” So, when a man’s character is the reverse of this, when he is a son of error and sin, it may be truly said of him, he HATH everlasting punishment. If everlasting life can be enjoyed here, cannot everlasting punishment be suffered here? Again, a person may be a Christian to-day, and consequently in possession of everlasting life; but his love may wax cold, he may become a sinner, an unbeliever, an infidel; he will then be no longer in possession of everlasting life. So, an infidel and a sinner of to-day may become a saint, like St. Paul; he then passes from death to life, from suffering everlasting punishment to the possession of everlasting life. But, by everlasting punishment, Jesus had direct reference to the temporal desolation that was soon to befall his countrymen at the end of the Jewish Dispensation. The kingdom was to be taken from them, and they were to be cast out into outer darkness, till the fullness of the Gentiles should come in.

4. Mr. Coon informs us, that the Greek terms, aion, aionios, mean endless duration. These are two forms of one word. Aion is a noun, and ios added to it, forms the adjective. This word occurs in these two forms three times in the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth chapters of Matthew. In the twenty-fourth chapter, the disciples inquired of Jesus, “What shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?” These two chapters answer these two questions. Now, world is from aion, the same word rendered everlasting, and eternal, in the text. There was then to be an end to aion. Mr. Coon tells us, that this word means duration without end, and in the same speech cites the same word to prove that it (aion) is to end! One passage explains the other. In one place Jesus speaks of aionios punishment, without stating whether he means endless or limited time; in the other place the apostles inquire concerning the end of the aion, and Jesus in answering their question, tells them, that it shall end, “but,” he adds, “the end is not yet.” Many things would transpire before that event would occur. “He that endureth to the end shall be saved.... And the gospel of this kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness to all nations; and then shall the end come.... Verily, verily, I say unto you, this generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled.” Matt. xxiv. 6, 13, 14, 34. We have, then, the word of Jesus for it, that aion, and consequently, aionios, everlasting punishment, may end. I will give the true definition of aion, according to learned men—all believers in endless woe:

Schleusner.—“Any space of time, whether longer or shorter, past, present, or future, to be determined by the persons or things spoken of, and the scope of the subject—the life or age of man; any space in which we measure human life, from birth to death.”

Donnegan.—“Aion, time; a space of time; lifetime and life; the ordinary period of man’s life; the age of man; man’s estate; a long period of time; eternity. Aionios, of long duration; eternal, lasting, permanent.”

Schrevelius.—“Aion, an age, a long period of time; indefinite duration; time, whether longer or shorter, past, present or future; life, the life of man. Aionios, of long duration, lasting, sometimes everlasting, sometimes lasting through life.”

This is the definition learned men give the word. I will now show that the Bible attaches the same meaning to it.

1st. Everlasting. “And I will give unto thee and thy seed, all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession.” Gen. xvii. 8.

“And I will make of thee a multitude of people, and will give this land (Canaan) to thy seed after thee, for an everlasting possession.” Gen. xlviii. 4.

Now, was this possession to be endless? No, for it ceased long ago! But let me read still more: “Unto the utmost bounds of the everlasting hills”—“The everlasting mountains were scattered.” Hab. iii. 6. The gentleman believes that the everlasting hills and mountains will all be destroyed when the world comes to an end!

“For their anointing shall surely be an everlasting priesthood.” Exod. xl. 15. “And he (Phinehas) shall have it, and his seed after him, even the covenant, for an everlasting priesthood.” Num. xxv. 13. “And this shall be an everlasting statute unto you, to make an atonement for the children of Israel once every year.” Lev. xvi. 34. Was the priesthood to be of endless duration? or has it not long since been abolished by the priesthood of Christ? Such, my friends, is a sample of the Bible use of this word.

2d. Forever. “He (Solomon) shall build me an house, and I will establish it forever.” 1 Chron. xvii. 12. This house although established forever, was long since torn down and destroyed! “For the land which thou seest, to thee (Abram) will I give it, and to thy seed forever.” Gen. xiii. 15. “You will keep it (the passover) a feast by an ordinance forever.” Exod. xii. 14. Was the observance of the passover to be of endless duration? “They shall be your bondsmen forever.” Lev. xxv. 46. Were they to be bondsmen throughout duration? “I went to the bottom of the mountains; the earth with her bars was about me forever”—that is, three days! Jonah ii. 6. “The righteous shall inherit the land, and dwell therein forever.” Ps. xxxvii. 29. Are the righteous to dwell in a land endlessly? “And his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall serve him forever,”—that is, as long as he live. Exod. xxi. 6. “And they shall dwell in the land that I have given my servant Jacob, wherein your fathers have dwelt, and they shall dwell therein, forever; and my servant David shall be their prince forever.” Ezek. xxvii. 25. This needs no comment. “But Judah shall dwell forever, and Jerusalem from generation to generation,”—from genea to genea. “For I have told him that I will judge his house forever, for the iniquity which he knoweth.” Will the Almighty be endlessly judging the house of Eli? And if to judge forever does not mean endless judgment, why should to punish forever mean endless punishment? Can any one tell? Paul, writing to Philemon, says of Onesimus,—“For perhaps he departed for a season, that thou shouldst receive him forever”—not endlessly, surely!

This noted passage, then, affords no evidence that punishment will be inflicted duration without end. Dr. Samuel Johnson, the great moralist and writer of the last century, speaking of this passage, and others of like character, says: “They may admit of a mitigated interpretation.”

The discussion continued four days—closed Saturday evening. I delivered a practical discourse on Sunday morning, made no reference to the debate, and at the close organized a society. Mr. Coon preached in the afternoon, and the discussion was his text. He misrepresented me, the good faith, and poured out volleys of abuse on all who did not subscribe to his fire and brimstone creed. I replied in the evening, and handled Calvinism without gloves, but he kept out of the way.

CHAPTER IX.

Questioned J. O’Kane in Dayton—He Beat a Retreat—He Replied in Crawfordsville—Three Resurrections, National, Moral, and Immortal—Conversation in West Lebanon—Everlasting, Forever—Kingdom of God—Sin, Error, Suffering not Endless—In Southern Indiana—Why Live a Christian Life—Bigotry in Breckenridge—Discussion with Mr. Dickerson—Calvinism—Arminianism—Universalism—debate in Chambersburg.

When in Dayton on one occasion to fill an appointment, I heard J. O’Kane preach an excellent sermon—it was all Universalism. His subjects were the Mosaic and Christian covenants. Moses was the head of the first, and Christ the head of the second covenant; the blessings of the first were temporal, and were designed only for the Jews; the blessings of the second were spiritual, including the forgiveness of sin and life everlasting, and were designed for all nations. The whole Jewish nation was blessed temporally, and all nations, families and kindred would be blessed spiritually. He dwelt long and emphatically on these points—proved and illustrated them in a very satisfactory manner. My friends evidently thought that was pretty good Universalism, as it certainly was. But I was satisfied that it was all a blind, and I resolved to quiz him a little. As soon as he was through, I asked the privilege to propound a few questions, and stated I should be much pleased if he would answer them.

“Ask as many questions as you please, and I shall be sure to answer them,” said he, in not a very agreeable tone.

“I understood you to say that the blessings of the Christian covenant are for all mankind, and that all nations, families and kindreds of the earth would surely participate in those blessings. Did I understand you correctly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I also understood you, that the blessings of said covenant are spiritual—the forgiveness of sin and life everlasting. Did I understand you correctly?”

“You did.”

“Once more. Do you believe that all nations, families and kindreds will be blessed by having their sins forgiven, and with life everlasting?”

“Suppose I don’t,” said he, in an angry tone.

“But why equivocate? You have just said you did believe this.”

“You don’t know what I said.”

Mr. O’Kane was in a pretty tight place, for it was well known, that he was a staunch advocate of eternal woe. Why he delivered such a discourse was best known to himself. Perhaps he hoped to catch some of our brethren by pretending to be with them in faith.

Subsequently, he replied to a discourse I delivered in Crawfordsville, from these words: “Marvel not at this; for the hour is coming in the which all that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and they shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.” John v. 28, 29. There are, I remarked, three distinct resurrections spoken of in the Bible—a temporal, a moral, and an immortal resurrection. When the Bible speaks of a resurrection, we must learn from the context of the passage, which of those resurrections is intended. I will briefly notice some passages where these three resurrections are spoken of.

In Ezekiel, thirty-seventh chapter, the prophet is writing of the return of the Jews to Palestine from Babylon, where they had been enslaved for seventy years. The chapter is headed—“The resurrection of dry bones.” I will cite the whole passage: “The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the valley which was full of bones, and caused me to pass by them round about; and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry. And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest. Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live; and I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am the Lord. So I prophesied as I was commanded; and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone. And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above; but there was no breath in them. Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the wind, prophesy, Son of man, and say unto the wind, Thus saith the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their feet, an exceeding great army.” Ezek. xxxvii. 1-10. Now mark the explanations: “Then he said unto me, Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel; behold, they say, Our bones are dried, and our hope is lost: we are cut off for our parts. Therefore prophesy and say unto them, Thus saith the Lord God: Behold, O my people, I will open your graves, and bring you into the land of Israel. And ye shall know that I am the Lord, when I have opened your graves, O my people, and brought you up out of your graves. And I shall put my spirit in you, and ye shall live, and I shall place you in your own land; then shall ye know that I the Lord have spoken it, and performed it, saith the Lord.” Ezek. xxxvii. 11-14. This was a temporal resurrection, and included also a moral resurrection. It was the return of “the whole house of Israel” to “the land of Israel from Babylon.” When in Babylon, they were said to be in their graves, their hope was lost, but they were to come up out of the graves, and be restored to their beloved country.

The same events are also predicted in Daniel xii. 2. “And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.” The connection shows this to be the same kind of a resurrection spoken of in Ezekiel. That all this was to take place within a few years, is evident from the following consideration: 1. The previous verse reads thus: “And at that time shall Michael stand up, the great prince which standeth for the children of thy people: and there shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation even to that same time; and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that shall be found written in the book.” Dan. xii. 1. This prince Michael was a ruler in Persia, while the Jews were in Babylon. He is spoken of in two other places in that book. “But the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me one and twenty days; but, lo, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me; and I remained there with the kings of Persia. But I will show thee that which is noted in the scripture of truth; and there is none that holdeth with me in these things, but Michael your prince.” Dan. x. 13, 21. It is clear from these quotations, that Michael was a prince of Persia, and that he was living when the Jews were in Babylon. Mark also, that the resurrection, there spoken of, was to occur in Michael’s lifetime, when Michael “would stand up,” and consequently it must have taken place long ago. 2. The question was asked, (verse 6) “How long shall it be to the end of these wonders?” and the answer given was, “It shall be for a time, times and half a time,” (verse 7.) In verse 12, the period intended by these “times” is stated to be “one thousand three hundred and thirty-five days,” making a little more than four years. “Time,” singular, means one year, “times,” plural, three years, “half a time,” six month. The resurrection, then, referred to, was to take place between four and five years from the time the prophet saw the vision—another evidence that this resurrection was realized in the return of the Jews to Palestine from the land of their captivity. 3. Daniel was to live to witness the transpiring of this event. “Go thy way,” said the angel to Daniel, “till the end be; for thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of these days.” (Verse 13.) It then seems certain, that this resurrection was to take place within a few years after Daniel had a vision of it. Two men, at least, then existing, were to live to witness the event—Michael, a prince of Persia, and Daniel, a prophet of the Lord, and to behold it they had to live only about four years and a half longer. The nation was raised from its grave, from the dust of the earth, and those who were loyal through the dark night of bondage, returned to the land of promise with glory and honor; but those who were traitors during the times that tried men’s souls, returned with shame and contempt.

The Bible also reveals an immortal resurrection. Says Jesus, whose mission it was to bring life and immortality to light, “In the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven.... God is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for all—the dead—live unto him.” Matt. xxii. 30, 32. This is not a physical, temporal, or moral resurrection, merely, but a resurrection to eternal life, and a blissful immortality. The apostle Paul (1 Cor. xv.) dwells long and emphatically on this glorious resurrection. “As in Adam,” says he, “all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.... It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.” “For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Cor. xv. 22, 43, 44, 53-57.

The terms in these passages clearly indicate, that the immortal resurrection is the subject of discourse; and that all mankind are interested in it. It is not a resurrection from the grave, or from the dust of the earth, for the immortal spirit which now tabernacles in the flesh, never dies, except morally, never descends to the grave or dust, except figuratively, but as the wise man says, “Dust shall return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God that gave it.” Eccles. xii. 7. The body only dies, it returns to the dust—the spirit never; it returns to God.

Hence my text must refer to some other kind of a resurrection, for it speaks of coming up out of graves, and the connection makes it certain that a moral resurrection is intended. Immediately preceding the text, Jesus says, “As the Father raiseth up the dead and quickeneth them; even so, the Son quickeneth whom he will.” There is here a comparison between what God was doing, and what Christ was doing. God was raising the dead from mortality to immortality, and Jesus was raising the morally dead and quickening them by his spirit. He continues to speak of the moral resurrection he was then effecting: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.” Those whom Christ had quickened by the truth were in possession of “everlasting life,” had actually “passed from death to life”—of course, no other than a moral resurrection is intended. He continues: “Verily, I say unto you, The hour is coming, and NOW IS, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God; and they that hear shall live.” Sinners, the morally dead, were then hearing his voice and coming forth to life. This is NOW going on, said Jesus. Then he adds: “Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and they shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.” The connection decides that Jesus was speaking of the moral resurrection he was then effecting among the lost sheep of the house of Israel. During Christ’s ministry the gospel was proclaimed only to the Jews, and they only came forth and were blessed by its quickening power; but soon the gospel was to be preached to “all nations,” “to every creature.” Said Jesus to the disciples, just before he returned to God, “Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned.” Mark xvi. 15, 16. This is the same subject spoken of in my text. When the disciples went into the world in obedience to their master, they found mankind dead in trespasses and sins, buried in the graves of moral degradation, even in the dust of the earth. They preached the gospel to the dead nations—some who heard it, came forth to life, to salvation, entered the kingdom of God, which is righteousness, joy and peace in the holy spirit. Others, who heard it, came forth to condemnation, and this is explained thus: “He that believeth not shall be damned;” “He that doubteth IS damned;” “Having damnation because they cast off their first faith;” “He that believeth not is condemned ALREADY.” Similar results have followed the proclamation of the truth in all ages and climes. Let the truth be proclaimed fully and plainly in an ignorant and vicious community, and some with joy will receive it, and partake of its blessedness; others will rise up in opposition to it, condemn it, and wax worse and worse.

This was the substance of the discourse, but much more was said in defense of the various points here briefly stated. Mr. O’Kane replied, but I have room for only one of his criticisms.

“The speaker said, that in the immortal resurrection, the dead are not said to be raised from the graves, and hence in John v. 28, 29, Christ does not speak of such a resurrection, for he there tells us, that the dead shall be raised from the graves. Now, it happens, that in the very chapter the gentleman informs us teaches the immortal resurrection, the apostle Paul does teach that the dead on that occasion will be raised from the grave. ‘So,’ says he, ‘when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?’ Now which is correct, Mr. Manford or the apostle Paul, for they contradict each other.”

I replied, Mr. O’Kane has my thanks for pointing out what he deems an error in my discourse. The word graves in John v. 28, is from muemeia, which signifies grave, the receptacle of dead bodies, but the word grave in Corinthians, is from hades, which means, not the grave, but the state of the dead. The meaning of the two terms are very different. One signifying the place where dead bodies are deposited, but the other, the state of the dead. Now the body is not buried in hades, but it is buried in muemeia, and at the immortal resurrection the dead come not from muemeia, but from hades, the state of death. My remark then was strictly correct, that at the immortal resurrection nothing is said about the dead being raised from the grave, muemeia. The state of the dead is designated by hades, and that state or condition may continue but a moment. The term has no reference to time or place, but merely to death. When a person dies, his condition is represented by hades, and when the spirit returns to God, it is delivered from hades, meaning the state of death. When the spirit ascends to God, it can exclaim, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory.” “Victory, victory, victory!” they exclaim, as they burst the shackles of hades, or the state of the dead, and join the immortal band in the land of the blessed.

I delivered two discourses in West Lebanon, and spent most of one day in conversation with Mr. Cooper, a Methodist minister. Said Mr. Cooper, “You say, forever and everlasting in the Bible signify limited duration. The Bible speaks of the ‘everlasting God,’ and the ‘everlasting life’ of the saints. Now, according to your definition of these words, God will exist only for a limited period, and the redeemed in heaven will exist only for a limited period. Your definition dethrones God, and blots out heaven.”

“Not so fast, my friend. True, the primary meaning of those words is duration, indefinite duration, but how long cannot be determined by the words, but by the subjects of discourse. When the Bible speaks of the ‘everlasting hills,’ ‘everlasting priesthood of Aaron,’ ‘the everlasting possession’ of Judea by the Jews, ‘the everlasting doors’ of the temple, ‘the servant serving his master forever,’ you readily admit that those words in those places mean limited time. You admit this, because the subjects of discourse are limited in their duration. But when those words are applied to God, and man’s immortal inheritance, they signify unlimited duration, because of the subjects to which they are applied. But why should everlasting and forever, when applied to punishment, bear the meaning they do when related to God and immortal life, rather than the signification they bear when applied to the priesthood, the hills, or the temple?”

“I admit, that when those words are applied to man in this world, they signify limited time, but when the Bible speaks of man being punished forever, and suffering everlasting punishment in the immortal world, they must mean the same they do when it speaks of the everlasting blessedness of the saints in heaven, and joys forevermore at God’s right hand. Take, for instance, the words of Christ, ‘These shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal.’ Now this life and this punishment pertain to the immortal world, and one will continue as long as the other.”

“But it is by no means certain, that Jesus refers to heaven or hell beyond the grave. The connection clearly shows, that Christ had reference to the blessedness of the subjects of the gospel kingdom, and the wretchedness of those out of that kingdom, out of the ark of safety. In the connection of the passage, he says, ‘Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.’ The life spoken of in your text is the life, the blessedness of this kingdom, and the New Testament certainly teaches, that the kingdom is established in this world. When John commenced his ministry he said, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand.’ When Jesus began his work, he repeated what John had said before him, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand.’ Soon after this Jesus said, ‘If I cast out devils by the spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you.’ Again said Jesus, ‘The law and the prophets were until John; since that time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man presseth into it.’ Near the close of our Lord’s ministry the Pharisees inquired of him when the kingdom would come, which he and John sometime before said was at hand. Now, observe his reply: ‘Neither shall ye say, lo here, or lo there, for behold the kingdom of God is within you,’ or about, or among you, as some, and very correctly, translate the passage. The apostle Paul defines this kingdom thus: ‘The kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness, joy and peace in the holy spirit.’ These citations inform us where and what this kingdom is. It is the kingdom of truth and righteousness, that Jesus built up in this world eighteen hundred years ago. It is called the kingdom of God because its principles are all divine; because the Son of God is its king, and to distinguish it from the political kingdoms of earth. In this world there are three kingdoms, and three lifes corresponding with those kingdoms: 1st, The kingdom of nature; and the life corresponding with it is physical life; 2d, The civil kingdom; and the life corresponding with it is political, or civil life; 3d, The kingdom of God, and its life is spiritual life. You perceive, then, that in the passage you cite, Jesus refers not to heaven or hell beyond the grave, but to the blessedness of that kingdom he labored to build up in this world. When the New Testament speaks of the immortal world, and heavenly blessedness, it employs different terms. When Jesus speaks on those sublime themes, he says, ‘In the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven;’ and the apostle Peter calls immortality ‘An inheritance, undefiled, and fadeth not away;’ and the apostle Paul says, ‘This mortal shall put on immortality, and as we bear the image of the earthy we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.’ Remember then, that a future state of joy or sorrow was not the theme of Jesus on this occasion.”

“But, sin, according to the Bible, will continue as long as virtue, misery as long as happiness, death as long as life, and therefore forever and everlasting when applied to one class must mean as long as when applied to the other class.”

But my friend, are you sure, that sin, error, misery, and death, will continue as long as virtue, truth, happiness, and life? I take it, that nothing is immortal save what harmonizes with the divine character. For a wise purpose, things may have a temporary existence, that are antagonistic to God’s character. They may answer some useful end in the economy of the universe; but when that end shall be gained, they will disappear. The earthquake rends the earth, the lightnings flash, the storm howls, the rain falls, for useful purposes, and those attained, they cease; and their temporary existence, as they result in immense good, is reconcilable with infinite goodness. But an everlasting earthquake from pole to pole, eternal lightning, blowing and raining, would be antagonistic to infinite wisdom and goodness. So, moral storms and earthquakes answer a useful purpose in this world, and when that end shall be realized, they will cease. But the existence of sin and wrong eternally would conflict more with the wisdom and goodness of God, than everlasting temporal evils, as the former blast the soul, while the latter only blast the body. As earthquakes are less frequent than they were in the past ages, and now seldom do much harm, and will probably continue to diminish, and finally cease to rend the earth, so moral evil is slowly losing its sway, and its strength will doubtless continue to grow less and less, till righteousness shall cover the earth as the waters cover the deep. By beautiful analogies we are taught in the Bible, that all sin and wrong will end. “And it shall come to pass, that he that is left in Zion, and he that remaineth in Jerusalem, shall be called holy, even every one that is written among the living in Jerusalem: when the Lord shall have washed away the filth of the daughters of Zion, and shall have purged the blood of Jerusalem from the midst thereof by the spirit of judgment, and by the spirit of burning. And the Lord will create upon every dwelling place of mount Zion, and upon her assemblies, a cloud and smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night: for upon all the glory shall be a defense.” Isa. iv. 3-5. “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice’ den. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.” Isa. xi. 6-9. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth; it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree; and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.” Isa. lv. 8-13. These are elegant passages, perfect word-painting, and you see they teach the end of all wrong, and the universal reign of truth and all righteousness.

About this time I made a long journey south—down the Wabash river to Terre Haute, thence to Indianapolis, Richmond, Madison, and the Green River region, in Kentucky. The distance to and from was nine hundred miles, was absent three months, and delivered seventy-three sermons. The whole journey was performed by my favorite mode of locomotion—on horseback. I spoke in many places where the faith I advocated had not before been publicly defended, and, of course, met with much opposition. In Portland, a preacher in the midst of my sermon said, “That is a lie!” and left the house in a great rage. “Stop!” said I, “my friend, and sustain, if you can, your charge. I will yield the floor.” “I will have nothing to do with you; and I warn you to flee from the wrath to come.” In Boston, near Richmond, an old lady called aloud for eggs with which to shower me. But none were furnished. In Perrysville, an old toper went staggering out of the house, muttering, “It’s good to live by, but it’s not good to die by.”

In Shelbyville, a man at the close of a discourse remarked, that he could see no good reason for living a christian life if Universalism is true.

“My friend,” I replied, “will you answer me a few questions? If you were sure of heaven would you put out your eyes? run hot lead into your ears? Would you not rather wish to see and hear in this world?”

“Yes.”

“If you were sure of being saved, would you not eat when hungry, and drink when thirsty?”

“Yes.”

“If you were certain of going to heaven, would you not love your wife, children, father, mother, brother and sister?”

“Yes.”

“If you expected to go to heaven when you die, when you are sick would you not want to recover?”

“Yes.”

“If you were sure of being a happy man next year, would you not want to be happy this year?”

“Yes.”

“If you were certain of enjoying good health in old age, would you not like to have good health now?”

“Yes.”

“If you were sure of being a true Christian ten years hence, would you not desire to be a Christian this year?”

“Yes.”

“My friend, you have answered your own question as I would, and as any one would, save a fool. If eternal life is to be our portion in the other world, we should lay hold of it in this world. If a heavenly feast awaits us on the other side of the river, why not partake of the heavenly feast on this side? But this, I suppose, puzzles you; you think the Christian is no better off in this world than the sinner; that he treads a thorny path, and is crushed by a heavy yoke, hence the question, Why live a christian life, if after all, I am sure of heaven? The truth is, the good man, and only the good man, is truly blessed in this world. He enjoys heaven now in anticipation of one beyond the grave. This blissful hope transforms his character into the heavenly image. But there is another reason why we should live Christians if heaven is sure. ‘Godliness hath the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.’ He who lives a godly life is not only well paid for it in this world, but he enters the other world with capabilities for happiness far exceeding that man who spends this life in sin and folly. This is an important consideration. There are then, at least, two reason why we should be Christians in this world if God has promised that all shall finally be redeemed. 1st, We are happier in this world for it; 2d, We shall be happier in the next world for it.”

In Breckenridge, Ky., bigotry would not allow me to speak in defense of the truth. One preacher took special pains to have every door closed against me, but sin only triumphed for a season; for when I returned a house was obtained, and I delivered a long sermon on the sin of bigotry. Showed that it was the same thing the world over, in all ages and climes, in christian and heathen lands; that it was as cruel as an hyena, bloody as a wolf, and remorseless as a tiger; that it had drenched the earth with gore, and covered its surface with the slain of human kind; that it had slain Jesus, the prophets and apostles, and was still at its wicked work; and the only reason why bigots are not now crucifying, beheading, hanging, quartering and burning the saints of the Lord was, the laws of the land will not let them indulge in such amusements, but they were doing all they dare do—they were stabbing character, suppressing free thought, and persecuting the saints of God. I considerably extended my acquaintance by this journey, and obtained many subscribers for the Teacher.

Soon after my return, I had a debate with Mr. Dickerson, of Park county, Ind. He was a Scotch Presbyterian—a Calvinist, and the bluest of the blue. He contended stoutly, that all God wills to save, and that Christ died for, will be saved; but, said he, God wills to save only the elect, and Christ died only for the elect, and he supposed that they compose about one tenth of mankind. In one of my speeches, I remarked:

Mr. Dickerson comes out plainly, boldly, independently, in favor of old-fashioned Calvinism. He has no faith in the modern improvements of Calvinism; he takes it as it flowed from the pen of John Calvin. He tells us, that God wills, purposes the salvation of only part of mankind. If he is correct, it seems to me, the Bible needs revising, for it certainly teaches that it is the will and purpose of God that all mankind shall be saved. The apostle Paul expressly says, “God will have all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” 1 Tim. ii. 4. “Having made known unto us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure, which he hath purposed in himself; that in the dispensation of the fullness of times he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth; even in him.” Eph. i. 9, 10. In these passages the purpose of God in the creation of man is clearly revealed. It is his will, pleasure and purpose to save all, to bless all in Christ. Does all mean part? Is the Bible a riddle? If so, let us finish the riddle by saying virtue means vice, truth error, happiness misery, love hatred, life death, salvation damnation, heaven hell, Christ Belial, and God means devil. This would be carrying out the interpretation Calvinism gives the Bible. How a man, standing in the midst of God’s works, and with the Bible in his hand, can for a moment assert, that the Author of all these glories all around, can will and purpose the eternal wretchedness of nine tenths of mankind, is a problem of intellectual blindness I cannot solve. Before I can subscribe to such a creed my reason must be destroyed, my conscience deadened, my eyes put out, my ears stopped, and my heart become as hard as adamant. The gentleman says, this is an evidence of my carnal mindness; and if I could see with spiritual eyes—he must mean Calvin’s eyes, the eyes that beheld Michael Servetus, burning on a pile of green wood—I should be charmed with the beauties of Calvinism.

2. It was the mission of Jesus to do the will and purpose of God, and I have proved that it is God’s will and purpose to save the world—not one here and there—but the world. Hence the joyous language of the angels when they announced his birth: “Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” Luke ii. 10, 11, 13, 14. This language does not comport at all with the theory that it was the mission of Jesus to bless only one tenth of mankind. John, directing attention to Jesus, said, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.” John i. 29. Said Jesus, concerning his mission, “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to me.” John xii. 32. The apostles understood it to be the mission of Jesus to save the world—not one tenth of our race. “We have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world.” 1 John iv. 14. “He gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time.” 1 Tim. ii. 6. “And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” 1 John ii. 2. “And, having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven.” Col. i. 20. “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself.” 2 Cor. v. 19. But why cite more testimony? I could fill my hour with quotations from the New Testament, showing that Christ’s mission was not a partial one, but that it embraced all the sons and daughters of earth. He was born the Savior of the world, and he lived, died, arose, ascended, and still is, the Savior of the world. That truth corresponds with his spirit, his labors, his moral precepts, his principles and his prayers. Calvinism crucifies the true Christ, and sets up an impostor, an anti-christ, in his stead. It also denies the true God, and substitutes a monster.

This speech kindled the ire of Mr. Dickerson. He denounced me in unmeasured terms, and marshaled all his strength in defense of Calvinism. He was familiar with its strongest arguments, and he paraded them to the best advantage. He said Universalism is Arminianism gone to seed, and he denounced both systems with much bitterness. This led me to remark—I believe in all the truth there is in Arminianism and Calvinism, and there is some truth in both systems. Calvinism says, that all God wills to save will surely be saved—not one lost. Very good; I can say, amen to that. Arminianism says, that God wills the salvation of all. Very good; I can say, amen to that. I will put these two truths, and the sequence from them, in the form of a sylogism:

1. Arminianism—It is God’s will, that all men shall be saved.

2. Calvinism—God’s will shall be done.

3. Conclusion—All will be saved.

I cast aside the dross of Calvinism and Arminianism, and retain the pure gold of both systems.

He pitched into my sylogism rough shod, and in reply, I gave him several from the Bible.

1. It is the will of God that all men shall be saved. Proof: “Who will have all men to be saved.” 1 Tim. ii. 4.

2. God’s will is to be done. Proof: “He doeth according to his will in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, what doest thou?” Dan. iv. 35. “He doeth all things after the council of his own will.” Eph. i. 11.

3. Conclusion—All will be saved.

1. God purposes the salvation of all men. Proof: Eph. i. 9, 10, above quoted.

2. God’s purpose will be effected. Proof: “As I have purposed so shall it stand—for the Lord hath purposed, and who shall disannul it?” Isa. xiv. 24, 27. “I have spoken it, I will also bring it to pass; I have purposed it, I will also do it.” Isa. xlvi. 11.

3. Conclusion—All will be saved.

1. All were given to Christ. Proof: “Thou has given him power over all flesh, that he may give eternal life to as many as thou has given him.” John xvii. 2.

2. All shall be saved who were given to Christ. Proof: “All that the Father giveth me shall come to me, and he that cometh to me I will in no wise cast away.” John vi. 37.

3. Conclusion—All will be blessed with eternal life.

About this time, I held an oral discussion in Chambersburg, Fountain county, with a Baptist minister—have forgotten his name. I arrived in due time, but my opponent did not make his appearance. There was a large assembly, in a beautiful grove; and after waiting about one hour, another minister took his place, and the discussion proceeded. He made one speech, and while I was replying the expected man made his appearance. When I was through he proposed, that each of us make one speech, and then close the debate; but I insisted that we should occupy two days according to agreement. He was rather a weak brother; but he knew the book of Revelation from A to izzard, and all the other mysterious portions of the Bible. He could tell how deep was the “bottomless pit,” how large was the “red dragon,” how big was his “head,” “horns,” and “crown;” could give the exact length of his “tail,” that cast to earth the “third part of the stars of heaven.” He was deeply versed in all that kind of lore, but drank shallow draughts of useful knowledge or common sense. But a large number attended the discussion, and I had an excellent opportunity to talk to the people.

CHAPTER X.

Moved to Terre Haute—Lectured in Fort Wayne—A Discussion There—Dr. Thompson—Visited Illinois—Opposition—Discussion in Charleston—Prayed For—Called Infidel—Debate in Green Castle—Conditions of Salvation—God’s Will—All are Spirits—Form of the Teacher Changed—J. Burt and J. H. Jordan, Editors—Oliver Cromwell—Foundation of Character—In Many Places—A Celebration—Meeting in the Rain—Fourth of July Celebration—Debate in Martinsville.

In 1843, I moved the Teacher to Terre Haute, ninety miles down the Wabash river, as I deemed that place a better location than Lafayette for its publication. Also made that town my head-quarters. The country north and west of Lafayette, in those days, was thinly settled, but in the southern portion of the state, there was a denser population, hence a better field in which to circulate the Teacher. I still continued my monthly circuit on both sides of the Wabash river, from Terre Haute to Lafayette, preaching in twenty different places. B. F. Foster was pastor of the Terre Haute society, and a meeting-house was being erected in that place. But soon my services were so urgently demanded west and south of Terre Haute, that I dropped some of the places on the circuit, and supplied the wants of friends elsewhere. I did so with much reluctance, as there was no one to take my place. There were then thirteen societies within that circuit where there was not one when I first visited that region, and one meeting-house was finished, and two being built.

At the earnest solicitation of Dr. Thompson, of Fort Wayne, I visited that place, and delivered a series of discourses. These were the first sermons on the Restitution ever delivered in that town, and they caused much excitement. An Episcopal clergyman proposed debating with me, and we accordingly spent two days in discussion. The assemblies were large, and, I trust, much good was effected. Dr. Thompson was a prominent citizen of Fort Wayne, and an intellectual and christian man. Three years after, while a candidate for Congress, he died, lamented universally where he was known. While on that journey, I preached in Huntington, Wabash, Peru, and several other places, where Universalism was hardly ever heard of before.

I took a trip westward into Illinois, and preached in Elbridge, Paris, Grand View, Brewetts’ Creek, Bloomfield, Oakland, Charleston, Shelbyville, Cold Springs, Marshall and Greenup. In not one of these places had the people heard a discourse in defense of “the restitution of all things,” and, of course, my preaching was a great curiosity. In Paris, a minister lifted up his warning voice, but would not let me occupy his house to reply. He wanted his people to hear his side only. I, however, made an expose of his sermon in the Court-house, to a large assembly, and obtained a large number of subscribers for the Teacher. In Oakland, I found some excellent friends, and subsequently preached there monthly for two years. In Charleston, the meetings stirred up sectarianism to its depths, and a preacher by the name of Tichner dared me to debate with him. Not being badly frightened by his bluster, I agreed to debate with him four days. The first proposition was, “Immortal blessedness is conditional!”

In my first speech in the morning, I showed the result of the position, that immortal blessedness is conditional in the sense Mr. Tichner intended. If he is correct, I remarked, but a small portion of mankind will ever partake of that blessedness. 1. All children, dying in childhood, are lost, as they comply, in this world, with no conditions. 2. Idiots neither believe nor obey the gospel in this world—comply with no conditions here—and will never, consequently, partake of immortal blessedness. 3. All who lived and died before Christ’s advent, complied with no gospel condition, hence all those countless millions are lost—forever lost. 4. Pagans, Jews, Mahometans, since Christ’s day, have all gone down to their graves, without faith in Christ or the gospel, and therefore they are all lost beyond redemption. My friend is a Campbellite, and will not admit that any comply with gospel conditions, who are not immersed in water—down then goes Catholics, Methodists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, yea, all who are not immersed. If he is correct, only one here and there will be saved, while the mass of mankind, nearly all, will be doomed to suffer immortal agony, for one of his propositions affirms the endless punishment of the unsaved. The gentleman may not believe all this—I cannot say how that is—but I am dealing with his proposition; and it involves the ruin of nearly all mankind. I once heard him deliver a sermon on the conditions of salvation, and in that discourse he did not intimate that one could be saved without immersion. His creed unchurches all but his little sect, and sends all to perdition but his party.

He had another speech to make before adjournment, and he occupied only half of his allotted time, but said not a word about what I had shown to be the result of his proposition. In my reply, I called attention to my former speech, and to the fact that no attempt had been made to refute it, and remarked, that the gentleman must either show that my deductions are false, or abandon his proposition. He must do one or the other. He dared me to debate with him, boasted that he would annihilate my faith the first day before noon, and many of his friends are here to see him do it. We adjourned till two o’clock in the afternoon. Met according to adjournment. Mr. Tichner and his friends were in trouble. They knew not what to do. They saw that I had their man in my grasp, and meant to hold him. I looked on, but said nothing. Finally, one of his brethren came to me, and admitted that I had the advantage of brother Tichner, and wished me to release him. The preacher looked blue; he did not know which way to turn. I pitied him, and proposed that we drop the first proposition, which we were to debate two days, and take up the second proposition—“Will all mankind enjoy immortal blessedness?” He readily consented, and the discussion then went on. Mr. Tichner and his friends were much mortified at the result of the debate. He soon ceased preaching, went to California, and made shipwreck of his faith and character.

I lectured in Greenup; and while there, a preacher prayed the Lord, either to convert the Universalists, or send them to hell, and he did not seem to care which disposition was made of them. A Presbyterian minister in Grand View, delivered a labored sermon against “Infidelity in all its forms,” and, of course, “the grace of God which bringeth salvation to all men,” was one of its worst “forms.” “That phase of infidelity,” said he, “is the best baited of the whole batch. Read not their books, their papers, their Teacher—hear not their preachers, talk not on that subject with any of the believers in that damnable system. Pray for them, but don’t talk with them. It is a heresy hot from hell, and have nothing to do with it.” A Methodist divine in Shelbyville, gave notice that he would, the Lord permitting, preach a sermon against Universalism, the next Sunday. But notwithstanding this opposition, I thanked God and took courage. Many rejoiced in the testimony they heard, and resolved that their lives should correspond with the purity of their new faith.

Being in Green Castle, Ind., I heard a discourse by James Mathes, concerning the conditions of salvation, and at its close, I delivered, at his request, a short sermon. Without controverting any of his positions, I attempted to show, that all mankind would finally comply with gospel conditions of salvation. When I got through, he proposed a debate on the subject of my discourse. In due time we met in Green Castle, and devoted two days to the investigation of that subject. Mr. Mathes was, and still is, a prominent man in his denomination. He said in the discussion, “There are three conditions of salvation: 1st, Faith; 2d, Baptism; 3d, Repentance. He, and he only, who complies with these conditions, is entitled to salvation.”

I answered, If the gentleman on the other side is correct, but a small squad of mankind will be saved, for he earnestly denies, that any one can comply with one of the conditions named, in the other world. We must believe, repent, be immersed in this world, or be lost forever; no opportunity for salvation will be granted beyond the grave; God’s mercy is confined to this life, but his vengeance will extend through eternity; his mercy is only the evanescent spark of a flint, but his wrath will burn forever; this life is only the infancy of our existence, but his creed makes it the hinge on which our destiny turns; now, man is a moral agent, but death will destroy that agency, and he will be compelled to lie down in sin and darkness through the eternal ages; death bounds God’s mercy—beyond it, the righteous will need no mercy, and the wicked will be allowed none. I cannot subscribe to such a partial, malignant and cruel creed. I believe in conditions of salvation, and that a soul will never be deprived of complying with those conditions. The conditions, in sum and substance, are, knowledge of the truth, and love to God, and love to man; and no one can be saved in this world or in the next world without that knowledge and love. That is the strait and narrow way; there is no other way to be saved in time or eternity. True, all do not possess that knowledge, or exercise that love in this world, but as the light and heat of the sun are not confined to this world, but extend to all the worlds in the solar system, so God’s mercy is not exhausted on earth, but extends to all time, and to all worlds.

It is certainly God’s will that all shall be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. (1 Tim. ii. 4.) The gentleman, though, denies that truth in toto. True, he admits, that it is God’s will that you, and I, and all who now live on earth, shall be saved, but he contends that all the sons of error and sin, as soon as they leave this world, are deprived of all power, of all opportunity, to reform their lives, and must lie down in sin and error eternally. But mark the text, “God will have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth.” It is God’s will now that all shall be saved. God is unchangeable; he is the same yesterday, to-day and forever. Men may change their will, purpose, but his will, his purpose, is the same through all time, through all eternity. It was God’s will six thousand years ago, that all should be saved; it is God’s will now that all shall be saved; it will be God’s will six thousand years hence, yea, through the eternal ages, that all men shall be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth. As it is God’s will now, that all shall be saved, all are now capable of salvation—none are reprobated, none are cast away; and as it always will be God’s will that all shall be saved, all ever will be capable of salvation—none will be reprobated, none cast away. What is true of God’s nature, character, and will now, ever will be true of God’s nature, character and will, hence the golden gates of salvation ever will be open to mankind. We read that the heavenly city has gates all around it, on the east, west, north and south, and that they are never shut by day or by night.

I know it is a very common notion, and Mr. Mathes preaches it, that the ignorant and vicious will have no opportunity to become wiser or better in the other world; that as they breathe their last breath, and heave their last sigh, they will be compelled to remain forever. And to prove this monstrous dogma, I have heard persons repeat such home-made texts as these: “As the tree falls so it shall lie;” “As death leaves us, so judgment finds us;” “If you die in your sins, where I go ye cannot come.” I need not inform you, that these are all spurious texts. Perhaps it will be asked, does not the Bible say, “There is no repentance in the grave?” Nothing of the kind is in the Good Book. And even if it were there it would not contradict my position. What is in the grave? Nothing but the body, and that cannot repent, in the grave or out of it, dead or alive. Where is the spirit when the body is mouldering in the grave? The wise man informs us, “Dust returns to dust as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.” This is the destiny of all. The body is from the earth, the spirit from God, and when the copartnership between the body and the spirit are dissolved, the body descends, and the spirit ascends; the one to its mother-earth, and the other to its Father-God. Man is a spirit; Christ and the apostles talked to spirits; I am addressing spirits; all revelation—its precepts and promises—are addressed to spirits; and when the great Gentile apostle said, “God will have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth,” he was speaking of all spirits, whether in this world or in the eternal world, whether in the body, or in the house not made with hands. I repeat, wherever a spirit exists unsaved, it is God’s will that he shall be saved, and God will even work in all to will and to do his pleasure.

Mr. Mathes admits, that it is God’s will that sinners shall be saved while they are in this world, but he contends that it is his will that sinners in the spirit world shall not be saved. Now why this difference? Why is it God’s will that I shall now be saved, and at the same time his will that I shall not be saved beyond the grave, if I should there need salvation? Is not reformation of character a good thing any where and every where? I take it, that God’s government is the same in all worlds, and at all times. It is perfect, and therefore uniform and unchangeable. He now requires all, and ever will require all, to learn the truth, and walk in the ways of life, and therefore he never will compel a soul to lie down in sin, darkness and death, one moment, in time or eternity.

When the third volume of the Teacher commenced, it was changed to a quarto form, and issued semi-monthly, instead of monthly; and James Burt and J. H. Jordan, became associate editors. Mr. Burt was recently from the East, where he had preached several years. He was a good writer, and a worthy man. He was connected with the paper one year, when his name, at his request, was dropped, and he ceased preaching. Mr. Jordan was not a minister, but a school teacher. He subsequently became a physician, and at the present time, is editor and publisher of the Indianapolis (Ind.) Gazette, a daily and weekly paper, conducted with vigor and ability. He wields a strong pen, and is an influential writer. For several years, Dr. Jordan assisted me in issuing the Teacher, and his contributions were always perused with much interest.

I opened a new field about this time, in the southern part of Indiana. Lectured in Bowling Green. Oliver Cromwell resided there—a descendant of England’s great Protector. He was an aged man, intelligent, and an ardent defender of the liberal faith. He said the Protector was his great-great grandfather.

A zealous Methodist class leader tried to reply to one of my sermons. “If your faith is correct, why all this labor? Why form societies, build meeting-houses, support ministers, or try to serve the Lord in any way?” I answered thus:

I understand from the gentleman’s remarks, that he supposes that the fear of hell, and the hope of heaven, are the only reasons why we should attend to the duties of life; and according to the confession of sectarians generally, these are the moving causes of all their christian efforts; hence their first and last objection to Universalism is, that it removes all inducements to live a virtuous life. This degrading objection is in the mouth of nearly all, from the doctor of divinity to the most humble member. If we take them at their word, they organize churches, build meeting-houses, employ ministers, send missionaries to the heathen, to escape hell and reach heaven; they pray, preach, attend meetings, go among the heathen, to escape hell and reach heaven; they deal justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before God, to escape hell and reach heaven. According to their own confession, these are the only motives that urge them onward in their christian course. Now, this is all wrong; they build on a false, dangerous foundation; they build on the sand; they are influenced, governed solely by selfish considerations. They work for pay, and pay they will have or turn rebels. Piety with them is a ticket past hell into heaven. Now, this is a wretched foundation for a christian life. In truth, character built on such a basis, is hay, wood and stubble, and liable to be consumed at any moment, hence so much back-sliding among Orthodox church members. They stand on slippery places.

Universalism lays a better foundation, presents better motives for living a christian life. It makes a reasonable appeal to man’s hopes and fears, but its strong foundation is in principle. It teaches that we should revere the truth, and practice righteousness, because we love truth and righteousness; should love God and man because of the goodness of God and the goodness in man; be truthful because we love the truth, and deal justly with our fellow men because we love justice and righteousness. When character is built on such a foundation, it is as permanent as the everlasting hills. It takes time to form character of this kind, but when the work is done, it is well done. Such persons do not need conversion at every camp-meeting in their county.

Lectured in Spencer, Gosport, Bloomington, Martinsville, Morgantown, Franklin, Columbus and Nashville. In all these places the liberal faith had not before been preached. But I found in most of them an elect few who had long cherished it amid all sorts of opposition. Faithful souls! They were true to their convictions, though standing alone, targets for bigots to shoot at. In Bloomington I lectured several times, and a minister tried to point out my errors, as he termed the noblest and most glorious of truths. Mr. Labertew, a merchant, and zealous friend, resided there. He subsequently built a meeting-house at his own expense; but there not being sufficient number of believers to act with him in keeping up meetings, he sold it. Held a meeting in Gosport; the house was full, and several hundred were out of doors; and although the rain poured down in torrents, they remained through the services. Here I subsequently had many conflicts with those of the partial faith. Near Nashville I attended a Fourth-of-July celebration. After the dinner was over, and the patriotic speeches made, I gave the people a sermon. Lectured in Martinsville in the Court-house; a clergyman replied, and arrangements were made for me to have a debate in that place with Mr. Scott, a Methodist presiding elder. It was to continue four days. He had recently debated with J. Mathes, and coming out of it victorious, all were sure he would make short work of me, and my faith. But they were disappointed. Mr. Scott got mad, and left the rostrum, declaring that he would discuss no more with me. But the moderators persuaded him to continue the allotted time. After he got through, another minister tried his hand at the work, but many thought he fared worse than his predecessor. Weighing about two hundred and fifty pounds, and as fat as butter, he kept in good humor. Lectured in Columbus and Franklin. In both places I soon after had discussions. This was a laborious journey, for it was war, war, from the beginning to the end of it.

CHAPTER XI.

Journey into Northern Illinois—Temperance Lecture—Result of Temperate Drinking—Married—Homeward Bound—High Waters—Difficult Traveling—Trouble in Crossing Streams—A Cold Bath—End of the “Bridal Tour”—A Hard Ride—Debates with E. Kingsbury—In Northern Indiana—Conversation with an Indian—Dark Man and Dark Night—Explanation of Hebrews ix. 27, 28—End of the World—The Earth and Man.

In June, 1844, with buggy and two horses, I commenced a journey into the northern part of Illinois. Preached in Newport, Ind., and became acquainted with several devoted believers in the Restitution. Lectured on temperance in Perrysville. Related the following sad story of a family, educated to the “temperate use” of liquor:

The husband and father was wealthy, educated, and occupied a prominent position in the community in which he resided. In his days of vigor, he held important political and military stations; was an officer in the last war with Great Britain, and after its termination, honorably occupied a seat in the legislative hall of his native state. He was what is called a “temperate drinker.” His children were instructed by precept and example to be temperate drinkers. The decanters were ever full of the choicest liquors, and all daily partook of the sparkling beverage. All of them despised intemperance, and hated the sight of a drunkard. The two sons married into families equal to their own; and the daughter, an accomplished lady, was wedded to the man of her choice. The father, with joy beheld his interesting family settled around him, highly respected for their intellectual and moral qualities, and bountifully blessed with the good things of this world. He was comforted with the reflection that his declining years would be blessed by virtuous children.

My informant, who had spent his childhood and youth in the town where this family lived, after several years absence, returned to the home of his early life. He repaired to the residence of the venerable man, where he had spent many happy hours in bygone days. Enquired for beloved names, for the sons and daughter, the associates of the morning of his life. The aged father burst into tears; he wept aloud; he wrung his hands with anguish. The tale was all horror that the trembling lips of the old man related. The daughter had disgraced herself by intemperance, and was mouldering in a premature grave. The two brothers were ruined by rum-drinking. A short time before, the wife of one of them, after enduring the brutal treatment of her husband for years, had fled from him while he was in a drunken fit, and plunged into a pond, and was drowned, to escape from wretchedness, and the monster. The wife of the other had left him; she would no longer live with the brute. One of the sons was at home, but intemperance had made him a cripple and an idiot. The mother of the family had long since sunk into a welcome grave, overwhelmed with sorrow. The father was descending with grief into the grave. His expectations were blasted; his hopes were cut off. His family, in which was centered his affections, and from whom he expected support and consolation, were miserably destroyed—part sunk into a dishonored grave, to hide their shame, and the remainder, outcasts in the world.

The misfortunes of this family, in all probability, originated in temperate drinking. The seed of sin and death was sown by the father, while the children were under his roof. A taste for intoxicating drinks was there acquired, and cultivated, and when they left home, they continued to cherish it, till by degrees it became the ruling passion. The parents and children reaped a fearful reward. What an awful sin for parents thus to vitiate the taste of their children! Let them take warning. They will as surely reap the reward of their evil doing, as there is a God in heaven. For so great a sin to go unpunished nature’s laws must be reversed.

Delivered two sermons in Rainsville. Urged my brethren to live as becometh believers in the best religion ever entertained by men or angels. It is all truth and righteousness, and our character and life should be truthful and righteous. It is better to be an Orthodox christian, than a Universalist sinner. We might as well be without the knowledge of the truth, as to hold it in unrighteousness. The gospel blesses those only who practice it; to such only it “is the power of God unto salvation.” Had a meeting in Montgomery, Ill., and at the close a Baptist preacher sung out a reply. It was decidedly funny. I will not attempt to repeat it, for I cannot do justice to the subject. Forded the Kankakee river where the city of Kankakee now stands, but there was no city there then—nothing but a wild prairie. The river was deep—deeper than I expected—and there was imminent danger of horses, buggy, and all, being washed down stream. Some men on the shore watched me with much interest, but they could have rendered me no assistance if I had gotten into difficulty, as there was no boat near. Lectured in Bourbonais Grove. It is a French village, and I put up with the principal man of the settlement. He was a Catholic, but said he believed what I preached.

On July 3d, in Wilmington, Ill., was married to Miss H. Bryant, by Rev. W. H. Dean, of Joliet. This lady is a native of New York, and for a year or two previous to this date, was one of the Principals of a seminary in Warrenville, Ill. Left Wilmington with my charge, to return to Terre Haute. But the windows of heaven opened, and the fountains of the great deep were broken up. The summer of 1844 will long be remembered in the West, as the summer of floods, tornadoes, thunder and lightning. The whole country was inundated, and traveling was very dangerous business. We came near being swept away, on crossing a rapid stream, the first day of our journey. Arriving at the Kankakee river, we found it past fording, and nothing but a small skiff with which to cross the stream. The carriage was taken to pieces, and carried over in parcels, and the horses swam the river. A few miles south we encountered Beaver Creek—then a mighty river. Again the buggy was ferried over by piece-meal, and the horses swam at the side of the frail bark, I holding them by their heads. Every slough was a river, which we had to ford or swim. A few miles from the Iroquois river, when far from a house, a terrible storm burst on our heads. There was no shelter, and for about one hour we were exposed to one of the most violent storms I ever witnessed. The wind blew a tornado, the thunder crashed fearfully, the lightning flashed sheets of fire, the rain and hail poured down in torrents, and to add to the terror of the scene, the trees came crashing to the ground, all around us. We finally reached a house on the bank of the river, and were right glad to have a roof between us and that wild elemental war. There we had to remain several days, as it was impossible to proceed till the waters abated. But I was very restless, as I had an engagement in Oakland, Ill., and had barely time to reach there without any detention. I had agreed to have a discussion in that place with E. Kingsbury, a Presbyterian minister of Danville, but that last storm prevented my filling the engagement.

The bridge across the Iroquois river being washed away by the flood, the carriage was again taken to pieces, and ferried over, while the horses swam to the opposite shore. But one of them came near drowning, as he became entangled in the top of a tree that had drifted down; he was finally rescued, and we were soon on the way to encounter more trouble. Reached the Wabash river bottom, opposite Montezuma, and found it all inundated—the water from one to three feet deep. When about half way across, in attempting to cross a low place on a corduroy bridge, all under water, and not visible, the water being so dirty, we missed the middle of the corduroy, and carriage, horses, bride and bridegroom, went over the side into the mud and water. The bride, a perfect hero, stood in the mud and water three feet deep, holding the frightened horses, while the bridegroom transferred the baggage from the buggy to the trunk of a fallen tree, which happily was not far distant. We finally got out of the slough, in a pretty bad plight though, and crossed the river on to dry land, and the next day reached Terre Haute—thus ended our bridal tour.

Mr. Kingsbury, named above, gave notice that he should deliver a discourse near Oakland, against the doctrine of the Restitution, and added, that he was willing I should reply, if I thought proper, at the close of his sermon. I was in Covington, Ind., the day before he was to deliver said discourse, and being detained in crossing the Wabash river till near sundown, I rode most of the night, and reached the appointed place a few minutes after he had dismissed his congregation. I rode seventy miles, between four o’clock Thursday, and twelve o’clock Friday, without any refreshment, and with about two hours rest. The congregation was called together. Mr. Kingsbury furnished me notes of his sermon, and I spoke two hours in reply. He replied, and I spoke another hour. We subsequently spent four days in discussion in Oakland. Mr. Kingsbury not being perfectly satisfied with his effort proposed a written debate. He agreed to furnish twelve letters for the Teacher. He wrote five, and then gave up the controversy.

I again visited Northern Indiana; and even extended my journey into Michigan, preaching wherever I could gather a congregation. Had some conversation with an intelligent Indian near Peru, on the Upper Wabash.

“I no believe in your Bible, or your Jesus Christ—not a word of it.”

“Well, my friend, do you believe in a God, and a hereafter?”

“That I do. I believe in the Great Spirit, and that he will take good care of all his children. No man ever killed him, as your Bible says, man killed God. He is away beyond the reach of arrow or cross. Who brought God to life if he was killed? You tell if you can.”

“The Bible does not say that God was slain. He is a Great Spirit, and in him we all live, move and have our being. You say truly, that man cannot harm him. Jesus Christ was not God, but rather a divine man; and he was sent here by the Great Spirit to instruct us in wisdom’s ways. But do you not think God has sent prophets to this world to instruct his children?”

“I do. My nation has had prophets. They taught us to use the bow and arrow; and how to raise corn, potatoes, and tobacco. We bless the Great Spirit for those prophets.”

“God is no respecter of persons. He has sent other nations prophets, and Jesus Christ is one of the wisest and best he ever gave the world. He taught that God is a spirit, and that we should worship him in spirit and in truth; that we are all his children; that he loves all, is good to all, and ever will be the Father and friend of man. Do you object to that?”

“All good, but the missionaries no talk so. They say Jesus is God, and that he was killed to save man from his own wrath. I no understand such stuff, and I no want to. I no believe God is mad, or that he was killed to be made good-natured.”

“We perfectly agree on that subject. If you will examine the New Testament, you will find that it teaches that Jesus Christ was a prophet of the Great Spirit, and that he was sent to this world to tell us how to live. He came not to quench the wrath of God, or to put out the fires of hell, but to direct our wayward feet in the path of life and salvation. His is a glorious work, and we are assured he will do it well. Your nation has likely had prophets, but acquaint yourself with this one ere you reject him.”

“You tell me new things. I will read the New Testament.”

The country south of Fort Wayne is flat, wet, and in those days was covered with a dense forest, and the settlers’ cabins were far apart—in some places, miles apart. I remember, when on this journey, of traveling a whole day without passing more than half a dozen houses. It was a dark, gloomy, foggy, rainy autumnal day, and the roads were in a wretched condition, in many places nearly impassable, the mud and water being so deep. When it was nearly dark, I met an ugly looking fellow, with a gun on his shoulder; and while inquiring of him about the road, I heard a distant noise, which seemed to be from some one in distress. I called his attention to it, and proposed that we ascertain what was the matter. He seemed to take no interest in the subject, and walked off in the opposite direction. I told him he was an inhuman creature, and that I should try to learn who was making that noise, for some body was surely in trouble; and immediately left the road, and plunged into the thick woods, in the direction whence the mournful sound proceeded. About a quarter of a mile from the road, I came to a small opening in the forest, where was a cabin, and in front of the cabin was a fire, and at the side of the fire was a young woman ironing clothes, and singing a mournful air as loud as she could scream. This was the noise I took to be cries of distress. I learned from her, that the fellow I had just seen was her husband, and that they had been married about two weeks, after three weeks acquaintance. I told her about meeting him in the road, and that I believed he was not there for a good purpose, and, moreover, that I was fearful she had married a scamp. Learning from her that it was ten miles to the nearest house, I bid her good-by, for I did not care about stopping long in that locality. While leading my horse back to the road, for the underbrush was so thick I could not ride, I heard several times a slight noise in the woods near me, but paid no particular attention to it. After much difficulty, and many scratches, I regained the road. But had proceeded but a short distance when I became satisfied that the man I had just seen was following me, for I could distinctly hear footsteps in the woods a few rods at the left. The night being very dark I could not see him, could hardly see my horse; and the mud being deep, and the horse tired, I could travel only at a slow gait. I stopped my horse, and peered into the dark, but nothing could be seen. The rascal came to a halt when I stopped. I dismounted on the right side of the horse, having him between me and the villain. Stood there, perhaps, fifteen minutes, without either party making the least noise, expected every moment to hear the crack of his gun. He finally made tracks from me as fast as he could run, and I remounted my horse and proceeded on my journey. He doubtless intended to rob me, steal my horse, and perhaps do worse; but presuming I was armed—but I was not—and seeing I was pretty resolute, he did not dare attack me without being sure of decided advantage. Being on that road again soon after, I learned that he had fled to parts unknown, leaving his wife, to escape being arrested for some crime.

The next day I reached Anderson, and delivered five discourses before I left. At the close of one of the sermons, a Methodist minister replied. He dwelt long on the words of the apostle Paul, “As it is appointed unto men once to die and after that the judgment.” Heb. ix. 28. I answered:

If the gentleman is correct in his understanding of this passage, it demolishes one tenet of Orthodoxy. The passage asserts, that “it is appointed unto men once to die.” Now, the creeds tell us, that temporal death is not of divine appointment, but rather contrary to the divine will. Man, say the creeds, was created immortal, and it was the will of God that he should not die; it was the divine appointment, that he should live forever. But in an evil hour, Adam, the first man, sinned, and brought temporal death on himself and on all his posterity, contrary to the divine appointment. If partialism is right here, this passage does not refer to temporal death; and if it does refer to temporal death, it is wrong in denying that temporal death is of divine appointment.

To what “men” does the text refer? for it does not say all men are appointed to die. Read the second verse following: “For the law having a shadow of good things to come, and not the very image of the things, can never with those sacrifices which THEY offered year by year continually make the comers thereunto perfect.” The pronoun “they” in this verse, as any one can see, refers to the “men” spoken of in the text. The apostle says, “they,” that is, the “men,” “offered sacrifices.” Now, all men do not offer sacrifices, neither are they required to. But under the Jewish law, a certain class of men were appointed to offer sacrifices for the sins of the people. They were the priests, and it is to them, and to them only, the text refers. According to the grammatical structure of the text and context, the “men” were a class whose business it was to offer sacrifices. It is certain, then, that the apostle does not speak of all men, but of a certain class of his countrymen. And this is confirmed by the fact, that in the Greek, the article tois is before the word men, and that article means the or these. Retaining the article, the passage reads, “And as it is appointed unto these men once to die.” What men? Why, the men appointed by the Jewish law to offer sacrifices.

But did these men “die” in their sacrifices? Yes, in the sense here intended. For the meaning of the apostle we must heed the connection in which the passage occurs. In the 16th and 17th verses, speaking of the first testament of the Jewish covenant, the apostle says, “For where a testament is, there must of necessity be the death of the testator, for a testament is of force when men are dead; otherwise it is of no strength at all while the testator liveth.” It is so now—no will, or testament, is in force till the testator is dead. Well, Moses was the testator of the Jewish covenant, and we know that was in full force before Moses died temporally. What kind of a death, then, does the apostle mean? Read on: “For when Moses had spoken every precept to all the people”—that is, given them the whole covenant—“according to the law, he took the blood of calves and goats, with water and scarlet wool, and myrrh, and sprinkled both the book”—that contained the covenant—“and all the people saying, This is the blood of the testament which God hath enjoined unto you.” This sacrifice which Moses then offered in the presence of the people, is what the apostle calls the death of the testator. He did not, of course, die temporally, but he shed blood, offered sacrifice, and thereby sealed the covenant, and that he terms the death of the testator. Well, we know that the Jewish priests were set apart, “appointed” to “die” for the people in the same sense Moses died to seal the covenant. The language with reference to Moses dying in his sacrifice, explains what is meant by the words, “it is appointed unto men once to die”—they died as Moses died.

There is reference here to the Annual Atonement of the Jews. On that great occasion, the priest, who was the most conspicuous personage, appeared before the assembled congregation—that appearing was typical of Christ’s first coming. The priest then offered sacrifice for the sins of the Jewish nation—that was typical of the death of Christ for the world. The priest then disappeared, and entered into the “Holiest of all”—that was typical of Christ entering into paradise. In due time the priest reappeared to the people—that was typical of Christ’s resurrection—his “second appearing.” The priest at his second appearing before the people, passed judgment on them, which was, that their sins were forgiven—and that was typical of the judgment passed on all who trust in the risen Savior. They behold him the second time, the risen, the glorified Savior, without sin unto salvation. His first appearing, was when he came in the flesh; his second appearing, when he showed himself to the world in his spiritual and glorified condition, and all who confide in the risen Redeemer, as the way, the truth, and the life, are blessed with life and salvation. To them he “appears the second time without sin unto salvation.”

I also delivered several discourses in Franklin. A Millerite, at the close of one of them, attempted to show that the New Testament teaches, that this earth will be destroyed. His chief reliance was on Matt. xiii. “That passage,” said he, “speaks of the end of the world, the harvest, and the furnace of fire. It is not figurative language. This world is to be burned up, and then the wicked will be cast into a lake of fire. I do not know when all this will take place. It may occur to-day, to-morrow, this year, next year; I know not the hour, day or year, but I do know that dreadful day of destruction will surely come, sooner, or later.”

I replied: The passage in Matt. xiii. affords the gentleman’s destructive theory no aid whatever. Learned men of all denominations tell us, that the “end of the world,” in that passage, is the end of the Jewish world, or age; that Christ had no reference to the destruction of this material earth. Bishop Pearce renders the original, “End of the age, viz: that of the Jewish dispensation.” Dr. Hammond translates it thus: “Conclusion of the age.” Dr. Cappe says, the words mean, “The accomplishment of the age, which in scripture language, uniformly relates to the Mosaic economy.” This interpretation is fully sustained by the New Testament. Speaking of Jesus, the apostle Paul says: “For then must he often have suffered since the foundation of the world: but now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” Heb. ix. 26. At the end of what world was Christ sacrificed? Not the end of this earth surely, for it has survived his death most two thousand years. According to the gentleman’s logic, this earth was all burned up eighteen hundred years ago, and it is all delusion that it now exists, turns on its axis, and revolves around yonder sun. In another place the apostle represents the end of the world as having taken place in his day: “And they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come.” 1 Cor. x. 11. If the apostle Paul was right, my friend here is miserably deluded. The Mosaic world, or era, did end in the apostolic age, and it is to that the New Testament always refers when it speaks of the end of the world.

“The harvest,” says Jesus, “is the end of the world.” In the Bible, the end of an era, a city, or nation, is called its harvest. Of the destruction of the city of Babylon, it is said, “For thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, The daughter of Babylon is like a threshing floor, it is time to thresh her; yet a little while, and the time of her harvest shall come.... And Babylon shall become heaps, a dwelling place for dragons; an astonishment, and a hissing, without an inhabitant.” Jer. li. 33, 37. The end of that city is called its harvest; so the end of the Jewish dispensation is called its harvest.

The ending of the Jewish age and nation, was to involve the ruin of multitudes of that people. Jesus often warned them of that coming calamity; told them, that unless they reformed they would all perish in the approaching storm. That national desolation is called “wrath to come,” “damnation,” “everlasting punishment,” “furnace of fire.” “Whose fire is in Zion, and his furnace in Jerusalem.” Isa. xxxi. 9. “Son of man, the house of Israel is to me become dross: all they are brass, and tin, and iron, and lead, in the midst of the furnace; they are even the dross of silver. Therefore thus saith the Lord God; Because ye are all become dross, behold, therefore I will gather you into the midst of Jerusalem. As they gather silver, and brass, and iron, and lead, and tin, into the midst of the furnace, to blow the fire upon it, to melt it; so will I gather you in mine anger and in my fury, and I will leave you there, and melt you. Yea, I will gather you, and blow upon you in the fire of my wrath, and ye shall be melted in the midst thereof. As silver is melted in the midst of the furnace, so shall ye be melted in the midst thereof; and ye shall know that I the Lord have poured out my fury upon you.” Ezek. xxii. 18-22. These passages illustrate the meaning of “furnace of fire;” they tell us where it is—in Jerusalem, not in eternity, as the gentleman imagines. In the text the wicked Jews are called “tares;” in the above quotations they are termed “dross,” “dross of silver,” “lead,” “iron,” “tin.” At the end of the Jewish state, the righteous,—the gold and wheat of the nation,—were saved, but the “tares,” the “dross” were destroyed by famine, pestilence, and the sword. This passage, then, certainly has no reference to the destruction of this earth, nor to any calamity to man beyond the grave.

Although I find no evidence in the New Testament of the destruction of this earth, I conclude from analogy, that it is destined to be destroyed. Everything that lives on the earth has its birth, maturity, and death. This is true of every plant, animal and man. And is it not so of the earth? The matter that composes it may be eternal, but there was doubtless a time in the distant past when this globe had no existence. It is supposed that the sun once occupied all the space in which the solar planets are now revolving, and that those planets, with their satellites, were then parts of the sun; but by the operation of the laws of the Creator, governing that immense mass of matter, portions of it became detached from time to time, and commenced their revolution on their axis, and around the mother globe. Those detached portions are now the planets which belong to the solar system. If this hypothesis be correct, the earth had a beginning. It has passed through wonderful changes since the day of its birth;—it has condensed, cooled, and become fit for the growth of vegetation, and for the habitation of animals and man. And will it not in time lose its vitality like a decrepit old man, and finally die, and return to the sun whence it came? Is not this to be the fate of all the planets? And will not the sun himself lose his life, luster and glory, and fall into the vortex whence he came? And will not this decomposed matter again be vitalized, and form other globes? And is not birth, growth, death, and decomposition going on, not only among plants, animals, and men, but in all departments of the material universe? And has not this process been everlastingly going on? and will it not continue to go on forever and ever?

Lectured in Columbus several times; and in going there got rather a cold bath. Came to a stream, and being informed by a man living on its bank, that the water was shallow, plunged into it without any hesitation, but soon found that it was past fording and very rapid. When I reached the opposite shore was wet through, and the weather being very cold, my clothes were soon frozen from head to foot. Rode several miles in that condition, and when I reached Columbus, which was in the night, was about as cold as a living man can be. A preacher replied to me in a very bitter spirit, and I took occasion to exhibit some of the contradictions of his brethren, thus:

It is believed, that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world, but that nine tenths of the world will be forever lost. It is believed, that Jesus tasted death for every man, but that millions will receive no benefit from it. It is believed, that Jesus will reign till he has subdued all things to God, but that a majority of mankind will be eternally unsubdued. It is believed, that all war is unchristian, but that God will keep up a war in hell forever. It is believed, that capital punishment is wrong, but that God will inflict capital punishment on all who leave this world unregenerated. It is believed that we ought to overcome evil with good, but that God will overcome it by inflicting an infinite evil. It is believed, that it is the duty of man to labor in season and out of season to regenerate his fellow man, but that God will defeat his labors by placing multitudes where salvation never can be attained. It is believed, that all mankind are brethren, but that a devil will sever that brotherhood, and drag most of our race into the infernal regions. It is believed, that we should love our fellow men, but that God hates nearly all of them with infinite hatred. It is believed, that we should imitate God, but if we did so, provided the creeds are true, we should be incarnate fiends. It is believed, that there is only one God, but that there are three Gods. It is believed, that man is by nature religious, but that he is by nature totally depraved. These, and many others, are the contradictions of what is called Orthodoxy. Can that religion be of heaven which so abounds with absurdities and contradictions?

I subsequently had a discussion in this place with J. Wright, a Campbellite minister. Salvation, said I, in one of my speeches, is the theme of the Bible—of Moses, the prophet, Jesus and the apostles. But what is salvation from? Mr. Wright says, it is from a future endless hell, from the wrath of God, and the power of satan. He described in burning words the horrors of that infernal pit he wants to save us from. He described it beautifully, and I noticed that some of his brethren seemed to be delighted with the charming picture he presented. They, doubtless, are sure of a comfortable seat in the heavenly mansion, having had their sins washed away in yonder stream, and expect to have the supreme satisfaction of seeing us, sinners, writhing in the flames of hell, the victims of devils, and the cursed of God. They laugh now in anticipation of this great joy to come. I envy them not their spirit nor their hopes. But what is salvation really from? According to the Bible, it is deliverance from sin, error, condemnation, moral death. “For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Savior, Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works. These things speak, and exhort, and rebuke with all authority. Let no man despise thee.” Titus ii. 11-15. This is a clear statement of salvation. It is deliverance from “all iniquity”—soul-purification—and is effected by the grace or truth of God, teaching us to “deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, righteously and godly” amid the evils of this world. “These things speak and exhort,” adds the apostle. Let this be remembered by those who assert that a present salvation is nothing, is not worth striving for, if there are not eternal fires beyond the grave to escape. “Let no man despise you.” Remember this, ye who despise the message of him, who urges a present salvation, but knows nothing of salvation from the wrath of God, nor the torments of perdition.

The first time salvation is referred to in the Bible, it relates to deliverance from iniquity. “I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.” Gen. iii. 15. Here we have the cheering assurance, that sin, symbolized by the serpent, shall be crushed, ruined, destroyed, and Adam’s race, consequently, delivered from its blasting, deadly embrace—but not a word about salvation from the future hell Mr. W. talks so eloquently about. In Mal. iii. 2, 3, the mission of Jesus is clearly stated: “But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner’s fire, and like fuller’s soap: and he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.” Jesus is the refiner; truth is the fire; man, created in the image of God, is the gold; the dross is man’s falsities. As the refiner with his fire separates the gold from the dross, saves the one and destroys the other, so Jesus, by the word of truth, the gospel of our salvation, purifies our souls, separates the earthy from the heavenly, saves the one and destroys the other. Not a word here about deliverance from the flames of hell, or the wrath of God. The earthly father of this soul-refiner was instructed to call his name Jesus, because he would “save his people from their sins;” and during his ministry on earth, Jesus labored to that end. “Reform!” cried he, “for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,”—not the kingdom of hell, mark you. We should reform, live pure and right, from heavenly considerations—not from motives of an infernal nature. Nineteen twentieths of the sermons of this age would not be uttered if all the preachers understood that text.

At last, the great Reformer died, and the apostle tells us why he died. “He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but him who died for them and rose again.” 2 Cor. v. 15. Jesus lived, labored, died, and rose again, that we might “live unto him.” But we are told by the popular creed, that it was the end and aim of Jesus, whether living or dying, to placate the wrath of God, and save us from a burning hell. After the Master’s death, the apostles continued his work, and it is well known that they labored faithfully for the present salvation of their fellow men. The chief of them said, “Jesus, whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man, in all wisdom that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus.” Col. i. 28. He preached to make men perfect in gospel virtues—not to redeem them from a fabled world of woe. The apostle’s words to his pupil, Timothy, are very comprehensive: “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.” 2 Tim. ii. 16, 17. The object of all heavenly influences is summed up in these brief words. To perfect our character, and cause us to abound in good works, is the ultimate of revelation. And how much more rational is this than the popular notion, that it is a device to satisfy justice, appease heaven’s wrath, and rescue us from hell’s flames.

The discussion was to have continued four days, but Mr. Wright’s friends closed it on the evening of the second day. He remarked to an acquaintance of mine soon after this, that he had rather debate with a ten-acre field full of sectarians, than with one Universalist.

From Columbus I journeyed to Nashville, and delivered three discourses. “It is too good to be true,” said a preacher, at the close of one of the sermons. I remarked, That is the strongest objection I know of to this soul-cheering faith. That ourselves, relatives, friends, all mankind, are the children of God; that he loves us with a love many floods cannot quench; that we have all commenced a life that is never to end, and are destined to grow wiser, and better, and happier, forever and ever; that we shall again meet the loved and lost of earth, and with hand in hand, and soul linked to soul, forever tread the courts of the New Jerusalem—that all this is our glorious future, I admit is hard to believe. That we are born to so rich and glorious an inheritance is hard to believe. There are many other blessings our heavenly Father has provided for us, we might think the same of under certain circumstances. Had it been our sad lot to have been confined to this date in a dungeon, never to have known father, mother, brother, sister, never to have seen the face of a friend, or to have heard the voice of love, never to have seen the green earth, the bright sun, or blue sky, and told to-day for the first time, that the beautiful earth and star-spangled sky exist as we now behold them, full of beauty for the eye, music for the ear, and love for the heart, and that in a short time we should exchange our dark, damp, cold cell for this glorious world, where we should meet father, mother, brother and sister, would we not be apt to exclaim, “It is too good to be true!”

A man who has been an Atheist all his life, never heard of a God, or of a future life, when told for the first time that there is a God who governs the world, and guides the destinies of men, and that he is immortal and will live forever, I say when these facts are first revealed to him, he would likely say, “It is too good to be true.” A family that has ever been doomed to want, sickness, disappointment, and sorrow in every form, when informed that a kind friend has deeded them a comfortable home, and provided for their future support and happiness, and that within a few days they will come in possession of all these blessings, when informed of this they would probably unbelievingly exclaim, “It is too good to be true.”

I am not at all surprised to hear people, who all their life-time have lived in the shade and gloom and sorrow of a dark, repulsive, and cruel theology, say, “Universalism is too good to be true.” There is such a vast difference between that partial, gloomy creed, and “the grace of God which bringeth salvation to all men,” I do not wonder they think the latter too good to be true. It is certainly true, that we do not merit, by any act of ours, such blessings, and are lost in wonder when we reflect on the immense provisions our heavenly Father has provided for us, and nothing short of the best of evidence makes us rest in our glorious hope. But our hope is based on a sure foundation—on the character, purpose, and promises of God. On this divine trinity we found our faith, and rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory.

But the doctrine of endless misery is too bad to be true. The theory, that consigns countless millions of mankind to the wrath of God, and the flames of hell, is altogether too bad to be true. Before I can subscribe to such a monstrous creed, I must believe God to be the worst being in the universe—has no love, mercy, justice, goodness, but is the very essence of cruelty and malignity; I must believe all this ere I can, for a moment, harbor the thought that he can be the author of ceaseless suffering. But while I have reason to rejoice in his goodness, I will cling to the faith the gentleman thinks is “too good to be true.”

CHAPTER XII.

Discussion in Franklin—Justice of God—What the Gospel Is?—Society Organized—Discourse on Total Depravity—Conversation with a Presbyterian Minister on Christian Rewards—Talk with a Catholic—A Methodist—A Presbyterian—A Campbellite—Salvation—A Mormon Sermon—Reply to It—A Journey to Louisville and Cincinnati.

While I resided in Terre Haute, I had a debate in Franklin, Ind., with A. L. Edmonds, on the final destiny of man. The discussion continued four days. Mr. Edmonds dwelt long and emphatically on the Justice of God—claimed that it required the endless wretchedness of offenders. I replied as follows, and he dropped that subject:

It is said that Justice requires the endless suffering of some men. That, although the goodness, mercy, and benevolence of the Deity may be in favor of the ultimate happiness of all men, yet his justice requires that the wicked, who die in their sins, should be doomed to suffer unending torment. The system of faith into which is incorporated, as one of its parts, the doctrine of endless punishment, suspends the final state of men upon the condition they are in when they leave this world. The question is not how they have lived, but how they have died. This is the point—the pivot—upon which is made to turn the immortal destinies of men. No matter how sinful a man may live all his life—“though as wicked as Cain, and corrupt as Mary Magdalene with her seven devils,” if he only repent, believe in the Lord Jesus—join the church—or, in fine, “get religion” just before he dies, all will be well with him—his reward will be heaven. While on the other hand, no matter how moral, upright and godly a man may live, though he may have known and obeyed the Scriptures from his youth up to a good old age, discharged all his duties as a humble and faithful Christian, and been the means of blessing hundreds of his fellow beings, both temporally and spiritually; yet, “if he fall from grace,” and become a sinner, even but one day before his death, and die in that state, he, poor old man, must go to hell!

This is a briefly drawn picture of the system advocated by that class of men which seem to be such sticklers for justice. If any should say such a system is opposed to reason, the Bible, and every principle of justice and rectitude, all I have to say is, I can’t help it. But it is nevertheless a true and faithful representation, so far as it goes, of the orthodox plan of salvation and damnation—“nothing extenuated, nor aught set down in malice.” Nor all its advocates can do, will ever be sufficient, to make the system appear anything different from this representation. Indeed, I do not think they will try to do it,—they believe and understand it, as I have described it. Let it stand so then, as good and wholesome Orthodoxy, while I instance a few cases for illustration, that we may be the better enabled to see some of the monstrosities and legitimate conclusions which must forever follow from the above admitted premises.

1. Charles and Henry were brothers—twin brothers; they lived together until they had attained their twentieth year, when Charles died; and as he had made no profession of religion, he was sentenced to endless pains. Had Henry died at the same time, he would have shared a similar doom, for he was as destitute of religion as his brother; luckily for him, however, he lived until his seventieth year, during the whole of which time he was in an unconverted state, except the last six months; for the last six months he had lived a pious life, and consequently was admitted, after his death, to heaven.

“The punishment of sin,” saith my friend, “does not take place here, but is deferred until the sinner reaches the spiritual world.” Consequently, Henry received no punishment in this world, for his long career of sinfulness; and it will not be pretended that he received it after he arrived in heaven—he was therefore not punished at all. But how fares it with his brother Charles? He, poor fellow, must welter in quenchless flames, for the crimes of his brief existence. Has God rendered to these twins according to justice?

2. Two young men attempt the murder of a man for money, and while engaged in the foul deed, one of them is killed accidentally, by his comrade, from the discharge of a pistol, and, of course, goes immediately to hell—to an endless hell? The other succeeds in assassinating his victim—takes his money, which is sufficient to purchase a vessel; one is procured, and after obtaining a crew to his mind, he launches forth upon the “great deep,” an abandoned pirate. Hark! do you hear those cries which float upon the night air of the South Sea? They come from a ship in distress. Hark again! those were the cries of women; the young mother, and the “gay guiltless” maiden are there. The youth and the man of gray hairs—but the sounds of lamentation have ceased—all is over with them. The pirate ship has been there, and the unfortunate have all been doomed; for alas, they had no religion. Forty years pass, and the pirate is arraigned before a tribunal of justice—is condemned—and confesses that, besides the innumerable abominations he has committed in his long life of wickedness, he has been accessory to the murder of four hundred persons! What must be done with him? hell is too good for him! Yes, hell is too good for him, and, of course, he must go to heaven. A few days are given him—he repents—and swings from the gallows off to glory. There, from his exalted station of bliss, he looks down into the abodes of the damned, and sees scores of immortal, wretched beings, sent there by his own hands. Among his unfortunate victims, he sees the innocent girl of sixteen, and the gray-headed father—and there, too, is his first companion of crime, who fell ere he completed his first deed of wickedness. Is this justice? the justice of an infinitely just God? Oh mockery!

3. Two men—A and B—avowed enemies, meet in the street. Each is armed with a rifle, and each makes ready to dispatch his enemy. A presents his gun—it snaps; the cap was out of order. In an instant B takes a deadly aim, his rifle discharges, and A is a dead man. B is arrested, condemned and dies; but, as in all such cases, he repented in time to secure heaven, as a reward! Now if A’s gun had not missed fire, he would have killed B, and, of course, sent him to hell, while he might have repented and gone to heaven. But he, poor fellow, must go to hell, merely for the want of a good cap!

The most abandoned wretch that ever disgraced humanity, can, according to this bankrupt system, obtain an easy passport to heaven, by a few minutes repentance just before he dies, while the moral, good, virtuous, humane, yea, the faithful Christian—the laborer in the cause of his Master—though he hath worn out a long life in warning his fellows, and inducing them to reform; though he has, according to Orthodoxy, been the means of converting hundreds to the belief and practice of the Christian religion, yet, if in an evil hour, he be drawn from the path of rectitude—become a sinner, and die suddenly, without time to repent, he goes to an endless hell! Oh, what justice! what consistency! Orthodoxy, thou art not a jewel!

Orthodoxy may sing her siren song the world over, it will not alter facts; men are punished here for their sins; and the worst of it all is, that these poor wretches, who have been deceived by the song, and thereby led into sin, still receive their punishment before they die, and often without knowing that it is the reward of their own doings! They will charge their suffering to a cruel fate, hard fortune, or some other cause, not knowing that the hand of a just God is upon them! But whether men believe it or not, if they do wrong, they must and will receive their reward; and if their experience fails to undeceive them, it may serve to convince those who live after them, that there “is a God who judgeth in the earth,” and that “he cannot do iniquity.”

I closed my last speech on the last proposition as follows: I am now nearly through with my part in this debate. I have presented the gospel to you the past four days as I truly believe it. The word gospel signifies good news; and it is good news from God to man, from heaven to earth. It tells us,

1. That God is the Father of mankind. “Have we not all one Father?” Addressing Pagans in Athens, the Gentile apostle said, “We are the offspring of God.” Jesus instructs us to pray, “Our Father, who art in heaven.” And he also teaches that our heavenly Father’s love for us far exceeds the earthly parent’s love for his offspring. And the God who inspired him and his apostles to utter such noble sentiments, hath said, “The mother may forget her child but I will not forget you.” Is not this good news to the sons and daughters of earth? We are passing away from our earthly friends, and they are daily leaving us; and is it not a blessed assurance that we have an ever living and ever present Friend, who will never leave nor forsake us? Is not this hope good to live by—good to die by?

2. This same gospel also proclaims the good news of eternal life and a blissful immortality for mankind. We are the children of God, created in his image, partake of his immortal nature; and, commencing our existence in the bud of being, in the cradle of all life, are destined to manifest more and more the divinity of our nature, as the eternal ages bear us onward and upward.

3. And from these cardinal truths, the New Testament draws the logical inference, that we should love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul and strength, and our fellow men as ourself. God is the Father of all, and his love extends to all, and hence we should be loving and dutiful children. We all belong to one family, are members of one household, and hence we should be kind, forbearing, and forgiving to each other. This is the gospel in letter and spirit, in theory and practice; and nothing but this is the gospel. It is all embraced in the word love—a little word, but the length, breadth, and depth of the universe are required to express its meaning. God is love, his purpose is love, and love will bless his children while immortality endures.

But there is not a drop of love, nor a note of glad tidings in my opponent’s creed. It proclaims it to be the purpose of the Almighty to consign millions of mankind to regions of eternal sorrow, darkness and death; and those who may escape that dreadful doom, unless they have hearts of demons, will forever deplore the sad fate of their earthly associates—those they were required to love as themselves. The words love, goodness, mercy, justice, gospel, good news, glad tidings, should be all stricken from the Bible, if Mr. Edmonds’ creed is true, and words that savor of fire and brimstone, should take their places. Yea, the sun, moon and stars, the refreshing shower, the genial breeze, and productive earth, should all tell us of fire and fury, instead of love, goodness and justice, if eternal woe is to be the doom of half of mankind. If this terrible dogma is true, it seems to me, that on the blazing disc of the sun should be written in characters as black as midnight—endless woe; on the pale face of the moon, and on every twinkling star—endless woe, that all might read their doom from night to morn, from morn to night; and that every breeze that blows, should scream in our ears so loud that the dead might hear—endless woe. But thank heaven, God is love, the gospel is good news, and these malignant creeds are false.

A large number of clergymen of different orders attended the discussion, and they held evening meetings during the progress of the debate, but all parties were silent on the subjects that were discussed during the day. The disputants were kind and courteous towards each other, and their christian spirit pervaded the hearers of all creeds. A society was organized in Franklin the day after the debate closed, it being Sunday, and I preached in the place monthly for one year. But the distance was too far for me to continue the visits, and as no one could be obtained to take my place, meetings were suspended. The good cause has suffered all over the West for want of competent ministers to supply the wants of the people. If a dozen faithful pastors had been located in Indiana in those days, liberal societies would now have been well organized and permanently established all over the state. In Franklin, Columbus, Martinsville, Gosport, Bloomington, Greencastle, Ladoga, Crawfordsville, Perrysville, Covington, Lafayette, Fort Wayne, Richmond, Madison, and in many other places where we have no organizations, flourishing and influential societies would now be established. But ministers could not be obtained, and hence much of the labor of the missionary was of but little avail. Having a paper on my hands, I was obliged to travel far and near to sustain it, and could not devote much time at any one place.

A few days after this discussion, I delivered several sermons in Edinburg; and one of them was preached in the Methodist meeting-house, and the subject, at the request of the pastor, was “Total Depravity.” The following is the gist of the discourse:

I will first show by the advocates of total depravity, what they mean by it. The “Presbyterian Confession of Faith” thus defines it: “The sinfulness of estate whereinto man fell, consisteth in the guilt of Adam’s first sin, the want of that righteousness wherein he was created, and the corruption of his nature, whereby he is utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to all that is spiritually good, and wholly inclined to all evil, and that continually.”

The “Shorter Catechism” says: “The sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell, consists in the guilt of Adam’s first sin, the want of original righteousness, and the corruption of his whole nature.”

The “Baptist Philadelphia Confession” tells us that “Our first parents, by this sin, fell from their original righteousness and communion with God, and we in them, whereby death came upon all, all becoming dead in sin, and wholly defiled in all the faculties and parts of soul and body.”

The “Methodist Discipline” says: “Original sin standeth not in the following of Adam, (as the Pelagians do vainly talk) but it is the corruption of the nature of every man, that is naturally engendered of the offspring of Adam, whereby man is very far gone from original righteousness, and of his own nature inclined to evil, and that continually.”

John Calvin, in his explanation of this doctrine, says: “Original sin seems to be the inheritable perverseness and corruption of our nature, poured abroad in all parts of the soul, which first makes us deserving of God’s wrath, and then also bringeth forth those works in us, called in Scripture, the works of the flesh. These two things are distinctly to be noted, that is, that, being thus in all parts of our nature perverted and corrupted, we are now, even for such corruption, only holden worthy of damnation,” etc.

W. W. Perkins: “In reprobate infants, the execution of God’s decree is this: as soon as they are born, for the guilt of original and actual sin, being left in God’s secret judgment unto themselves, they dying are rejected of God forever.”

Twiss: “Every man that is damned, is damned for original as well as actual sins, and many thousand infants, only for original.”

Arthur Hildersham: “There is in them (infants) a natural proneness, disposition and inclination to every thing that is evil; as there is in the youngest lion, or of a bear, or of a wolf, unto cruelty, or in the egg of a cockatrice, before it is hatched. You have heard it evidently proved, 1. That all infants are sinners and deserve damnation. 2. That many infants have been vessels of wrath and fire-brands of hell.”

Here we have a full, clear, perfect definition of total depravity, as held by Presbyterians, Baptists and Methodists. It is here taught that all mankind are by nature, “utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to all that is good, and wholly inclined to all evil.” Every human being, according to this theory, that God ever made, is “wholly inclined to all evil”—to lying, cheating, stealing, murdering, etc., etc., etc. All men, then, by nature are liars, thieves, and murderers. This is the character of every infant when it is born into this world. Mark the words, “There is in infants a natural proneness, disposition and inclination to every thing that is evil; as there is in the youngest lion, or of the bear, or of the wolf, unto cruelty, or in the egg of the cockatrice before it be hatched,” and hence the writer adds, “1. All infants are sinners, and deserve damnation. 2. That many infants have been vessels of wrath and fire-brands of hell.”

If these are correct views of human nature, for six thousand years God has been creating totally depraved beings—thieves, liars, assassins, murderers. God is the source whence all crime flows, for he creates all mankind villains; gives them all an “inclination to all evil.” And this is not the worst of it—all deserve everlasting damnation, because God created them inclined to villainy of every name and grade. The definition of depravity given above, means all this, says all this, and to be a true Presbyterian, Baptist, or Methodist, one must believe all this. But we ask, who really believes a word of it? Who believes that God is the monster these creeds represent? Who believes that he has cursed us all with an infernal nature, and will then damn millions forever and ever, for being cursed with such a nature? Where is the mother who really believes that her infant is totally depraved, wholly “inclined to all evil,” “a fire-brand of hell,” and “deserves damnation?” People may subscribe to such horrid notions, preach them, and try to defend them, but who really, heart and soul, believes them?

If mankind believed that their fellow men were totally depraved, it would destroy all confidence between man and man. Who would trust a fellow that he believed was by nature “wholly inclined to all evil?” Who would employ such a physician, lawyer or clerk? Who would trust such a banker, or commission merchant? Who would ride on a railroad, or sail in a vessel, that he believed was run by such wretches? If men really believed in total depravity, they would tremble with fear by day and by night. They would shun each other as they shun a deadly serpent. And if that dogma is true, there would be no virtue, truth, purity in the world, but crime of every name and grade would reign supreme. God would not be known, and a devil would be universally worshiped.

And then what wonderful transformations, according to the creeds, have sin and grace wrought in human nature. God created man perfect in holiness and righteousness. Human nature was then all divine; not a spot nor a blemish in it. Every faculty of the mind was in perfect harmony with every other faculty. Angelic harmony reigned in the soul. But the devil in the shape of an ugly serpent, in one moment, ruined the best, the most perfect of God’s works, and for the creation of which he had exercised his greatest skill. And how easy it was effected. One temptation was presented and the work was done. Why, even some of those who are said to be totally depraved, and fire-brands of hell, often resist temptation. But mother Eve, holy and divine as she was, succumbed at the first attack, and soon caused her heroic husband to do likewise. This one sin transformed Adam and Eve into devils, and caused all their progeny down through a thousand generations to be born devils, “vessels of wrath,” “fire-brands of hell,” and “wholly inclined to all evil.” Their nature became entirely changed—changed from angelic purity to total depravity. According to this theory, sin is far more potent than grace. One sin committed by one person, ruined countless millions—unborn countless millions of mankind; but the grace of God in one soul sanctifies only that one soul, and perhaps not that one permanently; he may fall from grace. One sin ruined the world, but all the power, wisdom, and grace of heaven will fail to redeem it.

And then by doing so and so, it is said another change is wrought in our nature—we are restored to the divine likeness, to the purity and holiness Adam enjoyed before his fall. This theory of the change of man’s nature from purity to depravity, and from depravity to purity, is all a fiction. If the nature of man can change from the divine to the infernal, why not change from a man to a horse? The truth is, the nature of nothing changes from God down to the worm. Every mineral, plant and animal has received a definite nature, and never changes one iota. So with men, their nature is unchangeable—soul and body then are the same yesterday, to-day and forever. The body may be diseased to-day, but by proper means it may be restored to health, but its nature is not changed. So the mind, the soul, may be disordered, and by moral means may be restored to a healthy condition, but its nature is not changed. I am aware that several passages of Scripture are adduced to sustain this terrible theology of innate total depravity, and I will briefly show that they refer to nothing of the kind.

1. “Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.” Psalm. li. 5. There is nothing here about total depravity, or about our nature being “wholly inclined to all evil.” All inherit tendencies to evil and to good, for mankind are imperfect. We inherit these tendencies, not from Adam, but from our immediate parents. Such biases are constitutional, not down deep in man’s nature. Besides, we are not to understand these words strictly literal. David uttered them in a season of great debasement. They are hyperbolical like the following: “I am poured out like water; and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels.” “And my bones are consumed.” “All my bones shall say, Lord, who is like unto thee.” “I am a worm and not man.” All this is to be understood figuratively.

2. “Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean thing? Not one.” Job xiv. 4. Of course, the moral character of many is unclean, but what does that prove about their nature? It does not intimate that any one is born unclean.

3. “And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thought of his heart was only evil continually.” Gen. vi. 5. This simply means that the antediluvians were a very wicked people; not that they were born totally depraved, for in the 12th verse it is said, that “all flesh had corrupted his way,” which it could not have done if the Creator had made “all flesh” totally corrupt at its birth. They were corrupt by practice, not by nature.

4. “The heart of man is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it?” Jer. xvii. 9. The prophet is speaking of the sin of Judah. In the first verse he says, “The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron, and with the point of a diamond; it is graven upon the table of their hearts, and upon the horns of your altars.” It was not the sin of Adam entailed upon them, it was their own sin, the sin of Judah. They had corrupted their hearts, had departed from virtue’s ways, and had become “desperately wicked.” We see nothing here about being created totally depraved.

5. “They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there are none that doeth good, no, not one.” Rom. ii. 12. This passage clearly proves that men, in the days of St. Paul, had corrupted themselves, not that they were born totally corrupt. They had “gone out of the way,” not born “out of the way.” They had “become unprofitable,” not born “unprofitable.” “Their throat is an open sepulcher, their mouth is full of cursing and bitterness, their feet is swift to shed blood.” Verses 12, 14, 15. Is this true of infants? We know it is not. He is not speaking then of man’s condition by nature but by practice. In the preceding chapter the apostle says, “For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves, which shows the works of the law written in their hearts.” Wicked as men were in those days, “deceitful” as were their hearts, and “desperately wicked,” the law of God was written in their hearts, and they often did by nature, proving that their nature was not totally depraved, “the things contained in the law.”

These are the principle passages that the advocates of total depravity cite to sustain their theory; but it is evident they fall far short of proving any thing of the kind. They prove, what all know to be true, that mankind have voluntarily corrupted themselves—some more and some less. None are perfect, none are totally depraved, and there are all grades and degrees, from the best man to the worst man. And as we corrupt ourselves, we can reform ourselves. Corruption and purity, right and wrong, evil and good, life and death, salvation and damnation, heaven and hell, are set before us, and we have the ability to turn from the wrong and lay hold on the good. But the terrible theory, that we inherit by nature, corruption, evil, death, damnation, and hell, from Adam, that they permeate our very nature, corrupt the very springs of our life, constituting us “fire-brands of hell,” and that nothing but a miracle by Almighty God can purify us, and save us from endless burnings, I reject as utterly false and monstrous.

“There’s the marble, there’s the chisel;

Take them, work them to thy will;

Thou alone must shape thy future,—

Heaven give thee strength and skill.”

While in Edinburg, I had some conversation with a Presbyterian minister on religious subjects. “Why,” said he, “you contend that Christians are rewarded in this world for their piety and virtue. I dissent from you. The Bible teaches me, that Christians are crushed to earth by the cross they bear. Sinners have no such burden to carry.”

I remarked: “It is true that the early Christians, by their enthusiasm in the Christian cause, often incurred the wrath of Jews and Pagans, and were sometimes roughly handled. But this was not done because they were good men and women, but because they were deemed enemies of truth and righteousness—fanatics of a dangerous creed and party. The world did not know that it was opposing God’s noblemen, and the highest religious and moral truths, hence Christ, when in the agonies of death from the hands of the unbelieving multitude, cried, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ The trials, hardships and persecutions they suffered, were incidental to the times, and are not the legitimate results of a holy life.

“And here you mistake, my friend. You suppose that the suffering they endured are the natural sequence of a divine life. In that you greatly err. The advocates of any unpopular cause, let it be good or bad, right or wrong, are sure to encounter opposition. Especially was this so in the early days of the Christian era. The nations of the earth, in those times, were ignorant, intolerant, cruel, and bloody—much more so than at the present time. The early Christians laid hold of the religious creeds of their day with a strong hand, tore them to atoms, and scattered them to the four winds. This was more than the adherents of those creeds could bear, and according to the intolerant and cruel spirit of the times, they pursued the enemies of their ancient faith with fire and sword. The Christian cause was unpopular; the Christians were an insignificant minority, and the dominant party could not brook their zeal for what they regarded to be a wretched delusion.

“Christianity is now popular among the civilized nations of the earth, and its advocates are very differently situated from what they were eighteen hundred years ago. There is now no cross for them to bear, as that term was understood in the apostolic times. Those who come nearest to bearing it in this country, are those who ‘trust in the living God as the savior of all men.’ They are often contemptuously, cruelly treated by the dominant parties; but thank God, if they are inclined to revive the old persecutions, they have not the power to do so. But the truly good in all ages and climes, are blessed, let their outward circumstances be what they may. Virtue is a divine fount, whence flows the elixir of life; a tree whose fruit heals the nations. The good man’s soul is in harmony with truth and righteousness; he lives an harmonious, heavenly life.”

“But I cannot see that there is as much difference in the happiness of saints and sinners, as there is in their character. The latter seem to enjoy themselves quite as well as the former, and sometimes even better.”

“If the Bible is any authority, you are much mistaken. The wicked, in that book, are said to be ‘servants,’ ‘captives,’ ‘strangers,’ ‘foreigners,’ ‘wandering prodigals;’ Christians are said to be ‘children,’ ‘freemen,’ ‘fellow-citizens of the household of God,’ ‘obedient children at home.’ The wicked are represented as ‘bearing a heavy burden,’ ‘weary,’ ‘condemned,’ ‘dead,’ ‘blind,’ ‘hungry,’ ‘poor,’ ‘thirsty,’ ‘miserable;’ but Christians as ‘entering into rest,’ being ‘justified,’ ‘alive,’ seeing ‘the Son of righteousness,’ ‘eating the bread of God,’ drinking ‘the water of life,’ possessing ‘all things,’ and rejoicing ‘in the hope of the glory of God.’ The difference between the two classes is clearly expressed thus: ‘There is no peace to the wicked’—‘Great peace have they that love thy law.’

“Truly hath the poet said:

“‘Heaven is not a region in the air,

Nor hell a gulf we know not where;

But heaven is where love and wisdom dwell,

Their absence ’tis that makes a hell.

Love absent—hatred enters in,

Guilt and revenge, and every sin;

Its smoke of torment still ascends—

The deathless worm that never ends,—

Till “death itself shall die.”’

“The outer life of the good and bad, may be much alike, but their inner life is vastly different. Into one the sunshine of heaven is poured, and perpetual summer reigns; into the other, darkness has free access, and winter storms ever howl.”

Returning to Terre Haute on horseback, had some interesting talk with my fellow travelers. The first was a Catholic.

“What shall I do to be saved?” I inquired.

“Believe in the Holy Catholic Church, and obey it in all things.”

“But cannot one be saved without being a Catholic? If one believes in God, Christ, and obeys the divine law, cannot he be saved if he is not a Catholic?”

“It is possible he may be; but it is not safe to rest one’s eternal all on such ground. The church is the door into heaven, and I have no evidence a soul can be saved without passing through that door. You Protestants have great expectations of reaching heaven, but I am fearful most of you will land where ‘the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.’”

The landlord of the house where I dined, was a zealous Methodist. “What shall I do to be saved?” I asked.

“Believe in the Lord Jesus.”

“What must one believe concerning him?”

“That he is the second person in the adorable trinity, and willing and able to save all who come to him.”

“Cannot one be saved without believing that Jesus is the second person in the trinity?”

“No. If you do not believe that, you are an infidel, and no infidel can be saved.”

“Do you think Catholics can be saved?”

“My bar-room will hold all the Catholics who will be saved. And as for their popes, bishops and priests—I would not give a fig for their chance. Infidelity is bad enough, but popery is worse.”

In the afternoon, I fell in company with a Presbyterian, and asked him, “What I should do to be saved?”

“Believe in Christ.”

“What must I believe concerning Christ?”

“That he will save all he died for.”

“How many did he die for?”

“‘Are there few that be saved?’ ‘Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for narrow is the gate and strait is the way that leadeth to life and few there be that find it.’ These scriptures teach that only a small part of mankind are embraced in the covenant of grace.”

Soon after parting with this man, I fell in company with a Campbellite, and I asked, “What must one do to be saved?”

“Believe, be baptized, and repent.”

“Do you mean that no one can be saved hereafter, without faith, baptism, and repentance in this world?”

“I have no evidence that any can.”

Alas! I mentally exclaimed, how selfish, contracted and partial are the creeds of men. The Catholic consigns all to hell outside of his church; the Methodist sends all to perdition who do not believe that Jesus is the eternal God; the Presbyterian condemns all to everlasting burnings, but the elect few; the Campbellite has no hope for any beyond the grave, who do not adhere to his creed, and take water. The truth concerning salvation, is all embraced in a few words. Jesus said, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, soul, and strength, and thy neighbor as thyself.” And one of his apostles testifies that “Love is the fulfilling of the law.” Whoever lives in harmony with this law is saved, let his faith be what it may, and let him belong to what party he may, or to no party. This is my faith with reference to salvation, and does it not infinitely better correspond with reason, and the character of God, than the narrow contracted systems just stated by their advocates?

Where I stopped over night, I heard a Mormon deliver a discourse in defence of Mormonism. He was an able man, well educated; and he proved as clear as mud that the Latter-Day Saints are heaven’s peculiar favorites. Every good Mormon, when he dies, we were told, is transported to one of the stars, and becomes its king, and will there reign over its inhabitants in regal splendor forever and ever. But anti-Mormons are consigned to the infernal regions of Pluto, to be his subjects eternally. He also told us, that Christ would come to this earth personally within a few years. “I expect,” said he, “to live to witness his second advent. He will be a Mormon, and will empower us to destroy the Gentiles; and when the work shall be well done, the Saints will possess the land. I warn you to flee from the wrath to come; accept of mercy while mercy is offered you; for when Jesus comes, he will shut the door, and your doom will be sealed.” He pretended to be able to work miracles, and an old gentleman in the congregation arose and wished him to restore his sight. “Do you believe I can?” asked the speaker. “I will believe you can when you do the work,” the old gentleman replied. “But do you believe now that I can?” “No, sir.” “Then I will not restore your sight.”

As soon as he was through the crowd cried, “Manford! Manford! Manford!” I begged to be excused, but the people insisted that I should pitch into Mormonism, and I finally spent an hour in reviewing it, and the discourse just delivered. I commenced by remarking, that I wished to make one statement, and to ask the speaker one question. Jesus told his disciples on one occasion, that some of them would live to see him come the second time, (Matt. xvi. 28) and he intimated to Peter that John would be living when he would come. (John xxi. 23). “Now you,” addressing the preacher, “told us, that coming has not taken place, but will take place in a short time. The question I wish to ask is this:

“Is John now living?”

“He is,” replied the Mormon.

“Where is he?” I inquired.

“Up North, somewhere. We know he is living, for we have a document signed by him.”

“Will you please show me that document.”

“It is not in my possession; our prophet has it.”

I then gave the history of the rise and progress of Mormonism; exposed its knavery, imposture, polygamy. The Mormons present became very angry, and one coarse-looking fellow shook his fist in my face. That was the first and last time I ever came in contact with Mormons. I was probably too severe in my remarks; but I was so disgusted at the man’s defense of Mormonism, I gave free utterance to my indignation.

Self and Mrs. Manford journeyed to Cincinnati. We traveled in a buggy, and had a delightful jaunt, as the weather was pleasant, the roads good, and friends plentiful—all except the last, in striking contrast with the other journey we took—the bridal tour. We were absent three weeks, and I preached nearly every day. Attended the annual meeting of the Indiana State Convention, where we met many friends from different portions of the state. Then proceeded to Louisville, Ky., and attended the annual convocation of the Kentucky State Convention. From thence journeyed to Cincinnati, where I bought printing materials for the Teacher, and then returned home.

CHAPTER XIII.

Moved to Indianapolis—Extensive Traveling—Henry Ward Beecher—A Fossiled Calvinist—Supposed to be an Orthodox Preacher—Debate in New Philadelphia—Strife Between the North and South—The Old Convention Dead—The New Convention Organized—Discussion in Springfield, Ill.—Abraham Lincoln—God is Love—Is Merciful—Is Just—Is Holy—Travel in Illinois—Conversation with a Presbyterian Clergyman on the Origin of Hell—In Iowa City, and Other Places in Iowa—Home Again—W. J. Chaplin—Discussion with Benjamin Franklin—Debate in Covington—Discussion with Mr. Russell—Publish the “One Hundred and Fifty Reasons”—Review of “Universalism Against Itself”—Publish Another Book—Olive Branch Discontinued—Traveling Far and Near.

In 1846, I moved to Indianapolis, the capital of Indiana. It being in the center of the state, and the most important town therein, I deemed it a better locality in which to publish the Teacher than Terre Haute. It continued to be issued twice a month, Dr. J. H. Jordan assisting; and Mrs. Manford writing editorial, helping mail the paper, and keeping the books. I was often absent, but the faithful doctor and the “better half” always sent the Teacher out regularly on its mission. Its circulation rapidly increased after this change of base; and being in the geographical center of the state, I could reach all parts of it with less travel than before. I still continued to make the saddle my home a considerable portion of the time. Visited and preached annually, more or less, in nearly every county in the state, and Indiana covers a large territory, being two hundred and fifty miles north and south, and one hundred and fifty east and west. I also extended my peregrinations into Ohio, Kentucky, Illinois, Iowa and Michigan. Friends of liberal principles were every where multiplying, more and more interest was taken in the good cause, and my congregations were generally increasing. I was much encouraged, although my labor at home and abroad was much augmented. I often wished I could divide myself into a dozen parts, that I might be in as many places at once.

There were but few of the liberal faith in Indianapolis. About the time I moved there, B. F. Foster commenced preaching in the city, in the old Court House—a dirty and out of the way place. But few attended his meetings, and after one year’s effort to establish a congregation, he returned to Madison, where he had previously resided. C. Cravens subsequently made a feeble effort in the same direction, and failed. After I left, Mr. Foster returned, and resumed his labors, and has been successful in establishing a good society.

Henry Ward Beecher was pastor of one of the Presbyterian societies part of the time I resided there, and I found him to be a liberal and jovial fellow. Orthodoxy evidently did not trouble him then any more than it does now, and his hearers sometimes doubted his soundness on the “fine points.” He would occasionally preach politics; and his sharp thrusts would send his democratic church members headlong out of the house. I once asked him if he believed the Creator would eternally punish us for the sins of this life, and he evaded giving a direct answer.

There was another Presbyterian preacher in Indianapolis by the name of Gurley—a fossiled Calvinist. He and Beecher subscribed to the same creed, but in faith and spirit they were as far apart as the poles. I attended his meeting once, and he thought he would give me a hard hit. “I will relate,” said he, “how a noted Universalist died. Ethan Allen, a revolutionary soldier, was on his death bed. When well, he was loud in defense of Universalism. But when he came to die it failed him. His daughter asked him just before he breathed his last, if she should cherish the faith he had taught, or that her mother had taught her. Believe as your mother believes, said the dying man.” I met him the next day, and told him that Ethan Allen was an avowed Deist. “It is the same thing,” said he. “If you think so, you need not be alarmed about your salvation, for all now admit that children and idiots are safe.” This is the same Gurley who has figured in Washington as chaplain of Congress.

Soon after moving to Indianapolis, I had a discussion in New Philadelphia, in the southern portion of Indiana. In going there, I stopped over night in a little village; told the landlord of the inn that I would speak to the people if he would give notice. As my host was a Methodist, the people inferred the preacher was one of his brethren. “The Lord is good unto all, and his tender mercies are over all his works,” was my text, and I dwelt on the evidences of God’s goodness in nature, providence, and the Bible. I emphasized the conclusion, that as God is unchangeable he always will, in this world and the world to come, through all time and through all eternity, be good unto all, and his tender mercies be ever over all his works. As God is good to all, he blesses all now, and as he always will be good to all, he ever will bless all mankind. I did not say that all would be saved, only that God would ever bless mankind. I requested a man, who I was told was a Methodist, to close the meeting. Before praying he remarked, “My brethren, we have heard the gospel to-night in all its fullness. Glory to God for such truths. They are the bread of life. May we all feast on them and live forever.” Another said, “I bless God for what we have heard this evening. I have been so near heaven, I have felt like taking the shoes from my feet. Bless God for the word of life.” I spent the night with a Methodist brother, and he doubtless thought I was a Methodist. I practiced no deception—told the truth clearly, boldly. No one questioned me concerning my denominational relations, and I said nothing on that subject. The nature of the soul is in harmony with truth and righteousness, and when the wisdom of heaven is unfolded, it is intuitively responded to by men of all creeds, provided their prejudices are not aroused by offensive names, or by unpopular truths stated in too pointed terms. If I had told the people I was a Universalist, the whole discourse would have been pronounced heresy.

At another time, I was traveling on Sunday; coming to a meeting-house where a congregation was assembling, I dismounted, and took a seat with the congregation. I knew no one, and I suppose no one knew me. The expected preacher did not appear, and some one arose to dismiss the assembly. I told the people I was a minister and would deliver a discourse if they wished me to. All seemed gratified to hear a stranger, and I talked nearly two hours to about five hundred people. I pursued the same course I did on the other occasion—said nothing about other people’s faith, called what I preached the gospel. I counted some twenty Universalists in the congregation; at least, I judged they were such from expressions of their countenances when I came out were pretty clear on Universalist ground. I spent the rest of the day with a Presbyterian deacon, and he evidently did not suspect I was a heretic.

The discussion in New Philadelphia continued two days. My opponent was a Presbyterian minister. We had some skirmishing before the regular battle commenced. I delivered a discourse on Saturday evening, and he replied. He spoke on Sunday morning, and I replied in the afternoon. Monday and Tuesday we met face to face, and discussed six hours each day, when he retreating left me in possession of the field. The discussion caused much excitement, for the liberal faith was unknown to most of the people—they had no idea that any thing could be said in its favor. One man offered to bet his farm that I would not be able to make a second speech. A good society could have been established there, but no minister could be obtained.

The strife between the Northern and Southern people, which ultimated in the late rebellion, disturbed the Universalist denomination in Indiana long before the war commenced. The contention though was not about slavery, but grew out of the antagonism between people from those two sections of country. Southern and Central Indiana was settled chiefly by emigrants from the South, and unfortunately they cherished prejudices against the Yankees. The Indiana State Convention would not join the United States Convention, because it was controlled by Northern people. Jonathan Kidwell, who had long been preaching in the West, resided in Indiana, was from Kentucky. In his younger days he was a Methodist minister; then a New Light; and finally became a Universalist. He possessed much intellectual power, and was well read on many subjects, although not versed in the technicalities of knowledge. He had long resided in Indiana, and was well known. Some forty years ago, he had a discussion in Indianapolis with a Methodist minister. It was published by Mr. K., and widely circulated. He had been editor of the Star in the West, and while I resided in Indiana, he published a monthly magazine, called the Philometh Encyclopediæ. He was, as remarked, from Kentucky, pro-slavery, and had but little love for Yankees.

Soon after I settled in Lafayette, he commenced a war on Eastern preachers, calling them “silk-stocking gentry,” sent out West to enlighten the heathen. He complimented me by calling me a “Texan ranger,” “a conspirator,” and a “little bishop.” Many of the Universalists in the state were anxious to be connected with the United States Convention, but Mr. Kidwell and his friends always opposed such union. This difference disturbed the harmony of some of our associational and conventional meetings, and did much mischief in the state generally. I was young, and doubtless indiscreet in some statements I published in the Teacher, but Mr. K. was very coarse and abusive in his attacks. The State Convention met in Terre Haute while I resided there, and one of Mr. Kidwell’s friends reported that he had fifty charges against me, which he intended to lay before the council. When motion was made to adjourn, I stated what I had heard, and demanded a presentation of the charges threatened. This brought G. C. McCune to his feet, and some one proposed the matter be left to six persons, each party choosing three, and their decision with regard to the charges be final. Both parties consented. I selected my men, but the other party did nothing. The year after, the Convention met in Dublin; one of Mr. K.’s friends proposed that I be disfellowshiped on the ground that I pretended to have received a Letter of Fellowship in the East when I had not, and was therefore an impostor. The resolution was laid on the table. I then came out with a long article in the Teacher about my troubles in Indiana, and Mr. Kidwell made that article the basis of charges which he presented to the Convention the next year. It met that year in Laconia, in the extreme southern portion of the state, and the council was composed chiefly of delegates from some dead societies in that locality. The result was as I expected, and rather hoped would be—the council voted me guilty of the charges. But that act killed the Convention. The White River, Wabash and Upper Wabash Associations immediately withdrew from it, and in a few months a new Convention was organized in my parlor in Indianapolis, and it soon joined the United States Convention. The old Convention met once or twice and then died; and about the same time Mr. Kidwell departed this life, full of years; and soon after, his printing office, which was then run by E. M. Knapp, was destroyed by fire. After the new order of things was inaugurated, peace and harmony reigned in our councils, and the good cause was more prosperous.

Liberal sentiments were making some progress in central Illinois, and I was invited to visit that region and hold a discussion in Springfield with a Methodist preacher. I had never been in that portion of the state, and it was a long journey there, for there was no railroad connecting those two capitals in those days. In going to Springfield, I stopped at Mt. Pulaski, Ill., and delivered several discourses. It is on a high mound, in the midst of vast prairies—a beautiful situation. Here I met, for the first time, D. P. Bunn, who resided in the place and preached there, and in the region all around. He still lives in a neighboring town, Decatur, and is yet faithfully discharging his ministerial duties. He is an excellent man, a faithful minister, and dear friend. He has labored long and hard in the moral field, and God has blessed him and his labors. Mr. Bunn accompanied me to Springfield. Arriving there, I found that the preacher who had agreed to debate with me, was not inclined to keep his promise, and Mr. Lewis, the most noted controversalist in that section, was chosen to take his place. He was a Methodist minister of much ability, and very zealous in his cause. He had recently had a discussion with Mr. Bunn, and was pretty well posted concerning Universalism. We debated four days in the Representatives’ Hall of the capitol, in the presence of vast assemblies. The discussion produced much excitement in Springfield, and all parties attended it. I remember seeing Mr. Lincoln there punctually every day and every night. He often nodded his head to me when I made a strong point. Little did I think, or he think, what was to be his future position and history.

In my first speech, I offered some arguments in favor of the restitution of all things. God is love. The Bible says, “God is love;” and all God’s works say, he is love.

“Could we with ink the ocean fill,

And were the skies of parchments made,

Were every blade of grass a quill,

And every man a scribe by trade;

To write the love of God above

Would drain the ocean dry,

Nor could the scroll contain the whole

Though stretch’d from sky to sky.”

As love is the moral nature of God, well might the great Gentile apostle exclaim, “I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other thing, shall separate us from the love of God, which is manifested in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Rom. viii. 38, 39. Can love so broad, so deep, so high, so vast, so enduring, so mighty, consign countless millions of its creations to interminable agony? Can an ocean of love be the source of an ocean of woe? Can the best tree bear the worst fruit? Can the purest fountain emit the most deadly poison? As God is love, while man exists, he must be his friend, his benefactor, his savior. All creeds say God is love. The old Pagans extolled Jupiter, called him the great, the magnificent, the glorious Jupiter, but according to their mythology, he was a beastly monster. So modern theologies say God is love, but they attribute to him passions and deeds the devil might envy. God is love, and all his purposes, and all his works perfectly harmonize with infinite love. Universal blessedness is the sequence of the proposition—God is love.

As God is love, he is just—just in all his purposes, in all his works. Would it be just to force into existence man or angel, knowing that existence would prove an endless curse? Force man into this world, force him through this world, force him into the grave, force him into the spirit-world, force him into an endless hell! That is the programme of heaven, concerning millions of mankind, according to popular creeds. Man is the victim of all this, if Mr. Lewis is right. Is there any justice in this? The whole scheme is black with crime, and reeking with vengeance, as it culminates in the ruin of the universe. Justice does no such work. Justice is universal right, and it labors to bring about right; and justice will not be satisfied till all mankind are right—right in character, in condition, in life. Universal salvation is the sequence of the proposition—God is just.

God is merciful. Mercy is only another manifestation of love, and leads to the same result. The Bible says much about the mercy of God—he is of “great mercy,” “plenteous in mercy,” “rich in mercy.” His mercy is said to be universal—“his tender mercies are over all his works.” His mercy is everlasting—“the mercy of the Lord endureth forever.” The mercy of the Lord then is great, universal and everlasting. It is by the mercy of God we are now blessed; as his mercy is universal, there is no place in the universe where his mercy will not reach us; and as it is eternal, the time will never come when he will not bless us. Universal blessedness then, is the sequence of the proposition—God is merciful.

God is holy. Holiness is a characteristic of love. Holiness delights in holiness, in purity, in happiness. Good men are holy in a finite degree, and they pray, and plan, and labor, to extend holiness. God is holy in an infinite degree, and he purposes universal holiness. Will he then ever place any of us where we cannot be holy, but must lie down in depravity, in corruption, in sin, forever and ever? Mr. Lewis affirms that he will thus dispose of millions of mankind. But that is impossible, as God is a holy being. Here is a man; and because his children are disobedient, he digs a dungeon, chains them in its darkness, feeds them on bread and water; but this is not enough; he enters that dungeon morning, noon and evening, and beats them half to death. He continues this barbarous treatment for days, weeks, months, years, yea, as long as they live. Would you call that the work of holiness? God, it is said, will deal infinitely worse than that inhuman wretch.

“Far in the deep where darkness dwells,

A land of horror and despair,

Justice has built a dismal hell,

And laid her store of vengeance there.”

Into this infernal dungeon, we are told, the Creator will thrust countless millions of mankind, swing the door upon them, and there they must remain the helpless victims of every vile passion, not for a day, but to all eternity; all grace, mercy, love, withdrawn from them; deprived of all opportunity, of all power, all means to reform their lives, and doomed by the holy God to be unholy through the eternal ages. Say not this is the work of holiness; say not the holy God will do what would be so unholy, so diabolical. As long as God is holy he will seek the holiness of his creatures, and as he is infinitely and everlastingly holy, in all places and in all times he will seek man’s holiness and happiness. Universal salvation is the sequence of the proposition—God is holy.

I spoke on Sunday after the discussion closed, in the Hall, and the spacious room was crowded to its full capacity. Mr. Bunn afterwards labored in Springfield, then L. C. Marvin and J. Marvin, his brother; then A. Bosserman, and at the present time, H. R. Nye is the pastor of the society. Our friends have a good meeting-house, and liberal principles have a strong hold in the capital of Illinois.

I journeyed to Alton, passing through Carlinville, Brighton, over the prairie where Girard and Virden now stand. There was nothing there then but wild prairie. From Alton I proceeded to Jerseyville, a small burg then, but now a beautiful town, and delivered my message. Thence to Exeter, Naples, and on to Macomb, through Rushville. In all these places I spoke to the people. In Macomb we now have an excellent society and a fine meeting-house. Have often lectured there since my first visit. Had some talk here with a Presbyterian clergyman by the name of Chase, I think.

“You do not believe in hell; but that is as clearly revealed as heaven.”

“You are mistaken. I do believe in the hell the Bible speaks of, and which wicked men experience. But I have no faith in the hell of human creeds. God never revealed it; it was developed from the darkness of Paganism.”

“You cannot prove that.”

“I think I can. Nearly all learned men of all denominations admit, that the Old Testament does not reveal an endless hell. But from Moses to Christ the Pagans believed in it. As heaven had not revealed such a place, the vain imaginations of men were the father and mother of it. Hesiod, a Greek poet, who lived eight hundred years before Christ tells us, that hell is so far from heaven, that it would take a mass of iron eighteen days to fall from the latter to the former place. The gate of hell was supposed to be guarded by a dog having fifty heads, and to make escape impossible, the horrid place was surrounded by a river of fire, called Phlegethon. Virgil, another Heathen poet says:

“‘Here rolls the roaring, flaming tide of hell,

And thundering rocks the fiery torrent swell.’

“The punishment of hell is thus described by the same writer:

“‘Here sits in bloody robes the Fury fell,

By night and day to watch the gates of hell.

Here you begin terrific groans to hear,

And sounding lashes rise upon the ear.

On every side the damned their fetters grate,

And curse, ’mid clanking chains, their wretched fate.’

“One sinner is bound to a wheel of fire on which he must revolve eternally. Another is tortured with endless hunger and thirst; he is in a lake of pure water up to his chin, with the most delicious fruit a few inches from him, but he cannot get a drop of water nor a particle of food into his mouth. Danaus’ forty-nine daughters, for murdering their husbands, were doomed to fill a leaky tub with water, drawn from a well with a sieve. Another victim of the gods was chained to a rock, and vultures fed on his heart and entrails, which grew as fast as devoured. Virgil, also thus enlightens us concerning some of the inhabitants of hell:

“‘At hell’s dread mouth a thousand monsters wait;—

Grief weeps, and Vengeance bellows in the gate;

Base Want, low Fear, and Famine’s lawless rage,

And pale Disease, and slow, repining Age;

Fierce, formidable Fiends the portals keep,

With Pain, Toil, Death, and Death’s half-brother, Sleep.

There Joys, embittered by Remorse, appear,

Daughter of Guilt; here storms destructive War.

Mad Discord there her snaky tresses tore;

Here stretched on iron beds the Furies roar;

And close by Lerna’s hissing monster stands

Briareus dreadful with a hundred hands;

There stern Geryon raged; and all around

Fierce Harpies screamed, and direful Gorgons frowned.’

“This, sir, was the Pagan hell—believed by Pagans, preached by Pagan priests, hundreds of years before Jesus Christ brought a future life to light. Did he teach an endless hell? If so, he taught Paganism, not the wisdom of God. Have I not proved that the dogma of endless punishment originated in Heathen darkness? You admit that it is not taught in the Old Testament; that the Jews did not believe in it in the days of Moses or the prophets. But the Pagans did believe in it in those days, therefore it was not revealed from heaven, but was the product of their own deformed minds.”

“Christians do not believe in the Pagan hell, but in the Christian hell; the Pagans corrupted the truth.”

“The hell of modern creeds is as horrible as the hell of Paganism. I will give you some description of hell by Christian authors, and you will admit that I am correct. Rev. Isaac Ambrose, an English divine, and a man of great talent, contends that the Heathen did not represent hell bad enough. Alluding to the Pagan poets just quoted, he says:

“‘Let poets feign of Tantalus’s tortures, Prometheus’s vultures, Ixion’s wheels, and Charon’s rowing; these are far short to express the pains of those that rage in hell. There plagues have no ease, cries have no help, time has no end, place no redemption. It is the dark prison where the Tares [the damned] are chained, and the wicked bound in fetters of fire and darkness. Are there not wonderful engines, sharp and sure instruments of revenge? fiery brimstone, pitchy sulpher, red-hot chains, flaming whips, scorching darkness? Will you any more? The worm is immortal, cold intolerable, stench unendurable, fire unquenchable, darkness palpable.... What music affords the place but roaring and crying and howling? Cursing is their hymns, wailing their tunes, blasphemies their ditties, tears their notes, lamentations their songs, screeching their strains; these are their morning and evening songs. What mean these chains and whips, and links and scourges? iron chains, whips of steel, fiery links, knotty scourges. Furies shake their bolts to frighten souls; the irons strike through their ears, and the hooked engines tear out their bowels, as if the torment of the damned were the delight of devils.’

“‘Oh, what a bed is this for delicate and dainty persons; no feathers, but fire; no friends, but furies; no ease, but fetters; no light, but smoke; no clock nor chimes to pass away the night, but timeless eternity. A fire, intolerable; a fire, burning, never dying! Oh, immortal pains!... What torment, what calamity can be compared to the shadow of this? The wicked shall be crowded together like brick in a fiery furnace. There is no servant to fan cold air on their tormented parts—not so much as the chink where the least puff of wind might enter to cool them.’

“Another Orthodox poet waxes eloquent in describing the infernal regions:

“‘Pale phantoms, hideous specters, shapes which scare

The damned themselves, and terrify despair,

Gorgons and harpies, and chimeras dire,

And swarms of hissing serpents, hissing fire.’

“Dr. Trapp thus writes of the rivers of hell and their fiery tide:

“‘Fires spout in cataracts, or in furies flow—

In bubbling eddies roll the fiery tide,

And sulphurous surges on each other ride.’

“The Orthodox Pollock gives this idea of hell:

“‘Wide was the place,

And deep as wide, and ruinous as deep.

Beneath, I saw a lake of burning fire,

With tempest tost perpetually, and still,

The waves of fiery darkness ’gainst the rocks

Of dark damnation broke, and music made

Of melancholy sort, and over head,

And all around, wind wared with wind, storm howled

To storm, and lightning, forked lightning, crossed,

Of sullen wrath.’

“The Pagan account of hell is tame compared to the Orthodox representation of it. A Methodist elder, a short time since, in Lafayette, Ind., told his hearers, that hell was so hot, that if a soul was taken out of it and put into a red hot smelting furnace, he would freeze to death in five minutes.”

“I will not talk with you; for you are making sport of a very serious subject.”

“I am merely relating the common view of hell, as it is preached all over the land.”

“I do not believe in such a hell; neither do I preach it. The wicked will be banished from the presence of God, there to remain forever.”

“Make hell as mild as you please; put out all its fires, throw away all its brimstone, chains and pitchforks, and say, it is only a condition of sin, darkness, mental anguish, and moral death, and it then is awful beyond imagination. Fire, red hot wheels, boiling lead, as means of torture, give only a faint conception of the horrors of such a state, if it is to continue forever. As John Wesley said, ‘What is gained if there is no material fire in hell, when all admit, that if there is no material fire there, there is something worse.’”

From Macomb I proceeded to Burlington, Iowa, and thence to Iowa City. Here I lectured several times. I. M. Westfall was residing and preaching there. It was then a small town, but now it is a large and flourishing place. Our society owns a meeting-house, and other valuable property.

Lectured in West Liberty, Tipton, Rochester, Muscatine, Washington, Davenport, and some other places in Iowa, and then returned to Indianapolis by the most direct route. This was a long and laborious journey; traveled about one thousand miles, and delivered many discourses, one third of which were in places where the people were entirely ignorant of our faith, and in the rest they knew but very little concerning it.

A short time before the new Convention was organized, I was in North Manchester, in the northern part of Indiana, where a youth introduced himself to me, as William J. Chaplin, and said he had walked fifteen miles to attend my meeting. He also stated that he was studying theology, and intended to be a minister. I encouraged him in his purpose, and shortly afterwards he delivered his first sermon. He has been in the ministry ever since, and has labored extensively, faithfully, and effectually, in Indiana, Ohio, Michigan, and Illinois. At the present time he resides at Dowagiac, Mich., and devotes most of his time to the profession of his choice.

About this time I had an oral discussion with Benjamin Franklin, on three subjects—The General Judgment—Universal Salvation—Endless Misery. We discussed each proposition six hours. The debate was published by both parties, and makes a book of three hundred and fifty-nine pages. It has had a wide circulation—three edition having been issued. Mr. Franklin is, for he is still living, an influential minister, editor and author, in his denomination. He has resided in Cincinnati many years, and publishes a large weekly religious paper in that city.

I also had a debate in Covington, Ind., with Mr. French, a Baptist clergyman, which continued four days. He was pastor of the Baptist church in that place, and his people had immense faith in his ability to demolish the doctrines of the Restitution. But he labored under a great disadvantage, as he could not extemporize; and how he wrote his speeches was a mystery to me; he must have worked hard during the intermissions. But his labor and wit did not save him. His friends were disappointed with his effort, and he soon after left Covington. The discussion was held in the Baptist meeting-house, and very large congregations listened to the arguments, pro and con.

Soon after this, I spent four days in discussion in Park county, Ind., with Mr. Russell, a Campbellite minister. The neighborhood was chiefly of the preacher’s faith; I put up with one of his brethren while the debate was progressing. They all treated me kindly, and we parted in friendship. Mr. R. now resides in Iowa, and is a noted man in his denomination.

In the midst of this arduous labor, I wrote and published the “One Hundred and Fifty Reasons for Believing in the Salvation of Mankind,” about twenty thousand copies of which has been distributed, and I think it has done a good work.

Alexander Hall, of Ohio, published a book, denominated “Universalism Against Itself,” which was extensively circulated in the West. He has since turned infidel, and says he wrote the book to please the Orthodox; he was probably an infidel when he wrote it. But his hypocrisy not then being known, and as the book might deceive some of its readers, I employed Dr. Jordan to answer it in the Teacher. His review occupied a portion of the Teacher for one year, and when it was finished, it was published in book form, making a volume of nearly four hundred pages. An edition of two thousand copies has been sold. It is a strong and vigorous work, and completely answers most of the objections urged in all quarters against the Universalist construction of the Bible.

I also published a little book of two hundred pages, called “Truth vs. Error,” composed of selections from some of our best writers. One thousand copies of it were distributed.

In 1848, I commenced issuing the paper weekly, calling it the Western Olive Branch. Soon after, I unwisely moved it to Cincinnati, hoping it would have a more general circulation if it was published in the “Queen City” of the West. But unfortunately, I had a partner, H. Torry, who proved to be a dead weight on my hands, and to throw him off I had to dispose of the paper, which I did, to J. A. Gurley, and he connected it with the Star in the West. After this brief partnership of a few months, resulting thus disastrously, I returned to Indianapolis, and devoted all my time and attention to preaching. When this transfer was made, the circulation of the Olive Branch was thirty-three hundred, and it had been published nearly nine years. I was sorry to give it up, but deemed it best to do so under the circumstances.

The succeeding eighteen months, I was from home most of the time, traveling in Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky, Michigan and Ohio, preaching wherever I could have a hearing. On horseback I went from Cincinnati to Lake Erie, and from Lake Erie to Cincinnati; lectured in Springfield, Dayton, Columbus, Upper Sandusky, and in many other places. I also journeyed west as far as St. Louis, and northwest to Iowa City.

CHAPTER XIV.

Concluded to go to St. Louis—Commenced the Golden Era—Association in Crawfordsville—Debate in Dayton—Man in God’s Image—God the Father of All—Man Immortal—Man a Spirit—High Waters—In St. Louis—Why Moved to St. Louis—But few Friends—First Journey in Missouri—Wet, Hungry, Out in the Cold—In Troy—In Ashly—Four Brothers—In Louisiana—Opposition in London—In Hannibal—Good Friends—Questioned in Palmyra about Slavery—Conversation on Judgment—In Memphis—Questioned—A Presbyterian Preacher Replied—Was to Debate in Newark—Covered with Ice—Missouri River—Discussion in Georgetown—In Southern Missouri—Questioned in Warsaw—In Jefferson City—Hard Work in Danville—Returned to St. Louis.

Having disposed of the paper I had published for several years, I resolved to move to St. Louis, and establish one in that city. Accordingly, in the fall of 1850, I went to St. Louis and issued the first number of a magazine of twenty-four pages, called the Golden Era. I proposed publishing it monthly, at one dollar per year. Returning to Indianapolis, I remained there till the succeeding spring, and then left that place for the new home on the banks of the “Father of Waters.” We, that is, Mrs. Manford, baby Mae, and self, with horse and carriage, proceeded to Crawfordsville, Ind., where we attended the annual meeting of the Upper Wabash Association. Dr. I. D. Williamson was present, and all were much edified with two or three excellent discourses by that gifted clergyman. Josiah Davis was then residing and preaching in Crawfordsville. For many years he was a prominent minister of the United Brethren Church; but his faith had gradually enlarged, and for three years previous to this date, he had been an ardent defender of the doctrines of the Restitution.

Proceeded to Dayton, and there spent four days in discussion with Mr. Russell—the same man I had previously debated with in Park county. One of his propositions affirmed that the “wicked will be destroyed,” and by that he meant, annihilated, soul and body. “Man,” he said, “by nature is all mortal; and immortality is only conferred in the resurrection on those who are regenerated in this world.” I combatted this materialistic position thus:

As I read the Bible, man is a child of God, created in his image, and is therefore a spirit, endowed with an immortal nature. The account we have of the creation of our race runs thus: “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.... So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him.” Gen. i. 26, 27. “In the day that God created man, in the likeness of God made he him.” Gen. v. 1. It is also said, “Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God made he man.” Gen. ix. 6. In the first book of the Bible, then, it is repeated four times, that man was created in the image of God. Some tell us, that image was lost in Adam, and that all his posterity have been created in the image of the infernal, but this is not the theology of the New Testament. The apostle Paul says, “Forasmuch as man IS the image and glory of God.” 1 Cor. ii. 7. And another apostle testifies to the same, “Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which ARE made in the similitude (or image) of God.” James iii. 9. We may then safely affirm, that mankind from the morning of creation to the present time, have been created in the image and glory of God. The fish of the sea, the fowls of the air, the beasts of the forest, were all created—but not in the image of God. Man only is thus distinguished.

The record cannot mean, that the body is in the image of God, for God is a spirit. The body rather is in the image of the earthy. “And as we have borne the image of the earthy.” 1 Cor. xv. 49. But the body is not the whole of man. There is a thinking, reasoning, willing, propelling power within this physical organism. It is designated by various names in the Bible. It is called a “spirit,” the “inward man,” “the mind.” It is doubtless this inward man that is created in the image and glory of God.

As we have seen, the apostle asserts, that the outer man, the body, is in the image of the earthy. What does he mean? Doubtless that all the elements, laws, forces, of the physical universe are represented, imaged in man’s physical form; hence, wise men in ancient and modern times have regarded man physically as an epitome, microcosm of the outer universe. It is then the inward man, the spirit, that is in the image and glory of God, and consequently all the elements of the Great Spirit are represented, imaged in man’s spiritual organism, but in a finite degree. God is a spirit, an immortal spirit, a being of infinite wisdom, love and power. Man’s spirit being in his image, and partaking of his glory, must possess all these qualities, but in a finite degree. He is a finite spirit, a spark from the central sun, and partakes of the immortality, wisdom, love and power of God.

The objector has said, “I know man has a body for I see it; but I do not see the spirit you talk about, and cannot believe it has an existence.” Do you not see that this statement lands you in Atheism? You believe there is a physical universe for you can see it, or at least, part of it. But you cannot see God, therefore, according to your reasoning, there is no God. The apostle Paul did not reason in this unphilosophical manner. He said, “The things that are seen are temporal; the things that are unseen are eternal.” As God is an invisible spirit, and the inward man is in his image, of course it must be invisible to mortal eyes.

The truth is, all the controlling forces of the universe are as invisible to our material vision, as are God and the spirits which are in his image. The laws of gravity, of repulsion, of cohesion, are all invisible; but they are at work in all things, from a pebble to the sun. We cannot see them, but we experience their effects every moment of our existence. We cannot see electricity, but we behold it rend the mountain oak, and melt the hardest metal; we cannot see the atmosphere, but we behold it prostrate the forest, and dash to atoms the work of man; we cannot see steam, but we see its effect—it drives the heavy train on its iron track, and propels the giant ship across the ocean against wind and tide. So we cannot see God, only as we behold him in all his works.

“God hath a being, and that we may see

In the fold of the flower, the leaf of the tree;

In the sun of the noon-day, the star of the night,

In the storm-cloud of darkness, the rainbow of light,

In the waves of the ocean, the furrow of land,

In the mountain of granite, the atom of sand;

Turn where we may, from the sky to the sod,

Where can we gaze that we see not a God?”

We cannot see the spirit that inhabits this mortal body, but we can behold its work. It builds up and controls the body; gives strength to the muscles, vigor to the hand, brightness to the eye, manliness to the form, and genius to the brain. It constructs our railroads, steamships, and performs all the works of art. It employs human bone and muscle; but they are only its servants; the indwelling spirit plans all, executes all. What the spirit is to the body, God is to the universe. I can as easily comprehend the Great Spirit as I can my own spirit; I can as easily understand how God can be present in the whole universe, as I can understand how my spirit can be present in the whole body. Take the spirit from the body and the body dies; take God from the universe and the universe would die—become an immense corpse. When we know our spirit, we know God; when we know our body, we have a philosophy of the universe. Man, then, is godlike in his nature; he is a spirit, has the attributes of a spirit, one of which is immortality. If God is immortal, man is, as he is in the image of God. I see no way to avoid the conclusion, if the premise is admitted, and if we deny that, we discard the plain teachings of the Bible.

What has been said concerning man being in his nature in the divine image, is confirmed by the scriptural testimony, that God is the Father of mankind. “Have we not all one Father?” Mal. ii. 10. “For to us there is but one God the Father.” 1 Cor. viii. 6. “One God and Father of all.” Eph. iv. 6. Jesus instructs us to pray, “Our Father who art in heaven.” “O God, the God of the spirits of all flesh.” Num. xvi. 22. This is repeated (Num. xxvii. 16) and the apostle Paul (Heb. xii. 9) quoting it substitutes “Father of spirits” for “God of spirits.” As God is the Father of mankind, we are his children—his offspring, hence the declaration, “Inasmuch as we are the offspring of God.” Acts xvii. 29. Children always partake of the nature of their parents. As God is the “Father of spirits,” we must partake of his spiritual nature—be in his immortal image. This body is of mother-earth and partakes of earth’s perishable nature; the spirit is of Father-God, and partakes of his immortal nature. And when death severs the connecting link between body and spirit, the earthy returns to the earth whence it came, and the spirit to God whence it came.

If these premises are correct—if the spirit of man is in the image of God, if God is the “Father of spirits,” it follows that man, with other rich endowments, is blessed with an immortal nature, and Mr. Russell’s position, that man is all mortal is incorrect. This heaven-endowed spirit is often spoken of in the Bible. When man was created, it is said that God breathed into his body, and he became a “living soul.” We are also told that he formeth the spirit of man within him; (Zech. xii. 1) that “the body without the spirit is dead.” We read of “the spirits in prison;” Jesus on the cross gave up his spirit to God, committed his spirit to God; when he appeared to his disciples they thought they saw a spirit; but he told them that a spirit hath neither flesh nor bones. We are informed that the Sadducees believed in neither angels nor spirits, but the Pharisees believed in both; and when the latter heard the apostle Paul say, that the risen Christ had appeared to him, they said, if a spirit had appeared to him, they ought not to fight against God.

From all this testimony, we learn that God is the Father of mankind, and that consequently we partake of his nature—are created in his image; and as God is a spirit, man is a spirit; as God is immortal, man is immortal. Man’s moral character may or may not be godlike, in the divine image. The Christian only is said to be in God’s moral image, to be a partaker of the divine character; but it is the nature of man I speak of at this time, not his moral character. Children always are of the nature of their parents, but their moral character may be very different. So mankind, being the children of God, partake of his divine nature, but their moral character may be ungodly. And it is the purpose of heaven that man’s nature shall unfold till his moral character shall be in harmony with the divine as his nature now is. Corrupt as may be man’s moral character, he still retains the image and glory of God his Father in his soul, but in various degrees of distinctness. Some, by the great apostle, are compared to the sun, others to the moon, and others still to the stars, (1 Cor. xv.) and we are taught by the wise man that this divine glory will grow “brighter and brighter to the perfect day.”

From Dayton I proceeded to Joliet, Ill., about one hundred and forty miles distant. There had recently been heavy rains, and the bridges on the Illinois’ rivers were nearly all swept away or much damaged, and I had to swim my horse across the streams, or repair the broken bridges to get my precious charge over the turbulent waters. We had some dangerous passes through the streams, and over the frail bridges I had repaired. In pulling the carriage over one bridge I came within an hair’s breadth of being pushed into the creek, and the buggy falling on me. The flood of this year was not quite equal to the flood of 1844, spoken of in a previous chapter, but it probably did more damage, as the country was more improved. When I reached Alton, some of its streets were navigable for skiffs, and the levee at St. Louis was all submerged. But after much hard traveling and toiling we made Joliet; and from thence I went to St. Louis alone, leaving Mrs. Manford to spend the summer with her sisters in Joliet and Lockport.

St. Louis at that time contained eighty thousand inhabitants, and was rapidly increasing in population, in business, and in wealth. At the present time it contains two hundred and ten thousand inhabitants—an immense increase in fifteen years. It is built on the west bank of the Mississippi river, eighteen miles below the junction of the Missouri river with the “Father of Waters.” The ground on which this noble city stands, is high and rolling, its streets are well paved, and the buildings generally are of a substantial character, being mostly of brick. Its beautiful site, its central location, its sixteen hundred miles of river navigation, its railroads extended or being extended in all directions, the vast agricultural region of which it is the center, the immense mineral and coal fields at its door—these advantages all combined must ultimately make St. Louis one of the largest cities of the world.

Several spasmodic efforts had been made to establish a Universalist society in St. Louis. J. Libbey, G. T. Flanders, N. M. Gaylord had preached there, but for two or three years previous to my removal to St. Louis all effort in that direction had been abandoned. I lectured in the city occasionally; a society was organized, and the next year G. S. Weaver from Ohio became pastor of the society.

I had moved to St. Louis to publish a paper there, and to travel and preach in Missouri and in the neighboring states. An immense field was before me, a vast amount of labor was to be performed, and I went to work with a resolute heart. In all Southern Illinois we had not a minister, a meeting-house, nor a society, and, of course, our friends were few and unknown. It was the same in Missouri, with two or three exceptions. There were a society and preacher just emerging from Dunkardism, in the southern part of the state. In Troy we had a meeting-house, but the society was dead. In the southwest part of the state L. C. Marvin had labored some, but then he was not residing in Missouri.

Leaving Mrs. Manford in charge of the paper, in September I commenced a long and laborious journey through Missouri, among entire strangers, expecting to be absent three months. Crossed the Mississippi river at Alton, four miles above where the Missouri flows into it, to go to Cottleville, thirty miles distant, where I had my first appointment. The rain poured down in torrents nearly the whole day, and to add to my troubles I got lost in the woods and swamps at the junction of the two rivers. Regaining the road, I traveled till dark, and finding that I could not reach Cottleville that night, made application at a dozen houses for lodging, but all said, “No; we are full.” The night being intensely dark, the rain falling fast, and the roads in a horrible condition and unknown to me, I resolved to go no farther. Stopped at a house, called the man thereof to the door, and solicited a resting place till morning. “We have no room; they will keep you at the next house.”

“What are you in this country?—heathens? At ten or fifteen places I have been refused admittance, each telling your story, that I could be accommodated at the next house. Whether you take me in or not, I shall go no farther till morning. I am wet, and cold, and tired. It is so dark I cannot see my horse, the road is nearly impassable, and I am a stranger in the country; I know no one, and no one knows me. If you will not shelter me in your house, I will sit under this tree till morning, for I am determined to proceed no farther to-night.”

“Oh, well,” said he, “come in, come in; we will do the best we can for you.”

Arrived at Cottleville the next morning, and spoke to the people in the evening. The next day proceeded to Troy, and on the succeeding day delivered three discourses. Found a respectable number of friends there and in the vicinity, and obtained forty subscribers for the Golden Era. As elsewhere remarked, N. Wadsworth resided and preached in Troy a year or two previous to his death, and I found many who blessed his memory for the beautiful truths he had taught them. Have frequently spoken in this place since that first visit, and have some highly esteemed friends there. Mrs. Manford often retreated to it from the scorching sun of St. Louis.

Lectured in Prairieville, Louisville, and then proceeded to Ashley, where I spoke several times. There were four brothers by the name of Hendricks residing near this village—all elderly men, of considerable wealth, and had long been citizens of the county. If the world were composed of men of the sterling worth of those brothers, there should be no need of “camp or court.” It has been my sad duty to perform the funeral service for two of those brothers, and for the wife of one of the survivors. “Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord,” and the living who make virtue their choice. Lectured in Bowling Green, and then in Louisiana, a beautiful town on the Mississippi river. W. K. Kennedy, a noble man, and ever my steadfast friend, resided in this place. He served his country through the great rebellion, and soon after he returned home was murdered, as is supposed, on the Mississippi river.

Preached in Frankfort, and passed on to London. As soon as it became known I was to lecture in London, a man went post haste to Hannibal, nine miles distant, and brought out a preacher to reply. The moment I was through he opened on me pell mell, without regard to sense or syntax. He evidently believed it was thunder that killed, not lightning. He knew nothing about the liberal faith, but thought he had perfect knowledge of it. In noticing his noisy harangue, I cut him right and left, and he very considerably “subsided.” Drove to Hannibal and lectured four times. Have often preached in that place, and have some dear friends there. The Browns, the Westfalls, and others, I shall esteem as long as this heart beats. The latter have a charming home on the bluff overlooking the Mississippi river, embowered in trees, vines and shrubbery. All the fruits of this latitude grow to perfection and in wonderful profusion on their grounds. There are the apple, pear, cherry—the best varieties—plum, peach, grape, and berries of all kinds. It is, especially, a delightful summer home, and Mrs. Manford frequently fled to it from the melting sun of St. Louis.

A certain doctor of Hannibal published some very coarse and false articles in a St. Louis paper about Universalism: and I replied to him in such a manner that he armed himself to shoot me when I was in the town to fulfill an appointment, but his friends kept him from me till I had left, and he had cooled off. I knew nothing of the wrath of this second Achilles till I returned to Hannibal a month after. I was not blameless, but hardly merited being shot.

Lectured in Palmyra, in the Court-House full of men—one woman only being present. A preacher said he had one or two questions to ask.

“State your questions and I will try to answer them.”

“Are you from the East?”

“I have the honor of being a son of old Massachusetts.”

“Are you an abolitionist?”

“Yes, sir; I believe in the abolition of the devil and all his works.”

“That is not what I mean. Are you a political abolitionist?”

“I think every wrong in politics should be abolished, and finally will be.”

“But are you for abolishing slavery in Missouri, and the other Southern states?”

“I believe negro slavery to be wrong in morals and in politics, and a curse to the white man and the black man; but it is sustained by the laws of the land, I do not expect to do anything unlawful against it. But what is your object in questioning me in this public manner?”

“I wanted to know your sentiments.”

“You have them on slavery; and now I will give them concerning yourself. My opinion of you is, that you are a very meddlesome and officious fellow.”

Although, probably, nearly all present were intensely proslavery, for Palmyra was always strong in that direction, they generally condemned the preacher for his impertinence, and treated me kindly. I journeyed to Tully and lectured several times. Had the following conversation with a church member:

“You told us last evening, that the common theory of a judgment day, at the end of time, was a delusion. The Scriptures certainly teach what you were pleased to term a delusion.”

“Do you think that God judges in the earth?”

“I do. We are in his presence every moment of our earth-life, and he judges between the good and the bad; the righteous are exalted, and the wicked are debased. The Bible expressly says, ‘There is a God who judgeth in the earth.’”

“Very good. You also contend, that at death we are sent to heaven or hell. Of course this is not done till we are judged. Civil tribunals do not hang a man and then judge him. He is judged first. The Divine Judge surely does not consign any to hell without a previous judgment. I have heard ministers of your faith at funerals tell the mourners, that the departed have gone to the bar of God to give an account of the deeds done in the body, and that justice will be meted out to them. Do you believe that we go at death to the bar of God?”

“That is a solemn truth, and we should have that judgment in all our thoughts from the cradle to the grave.”

“You think, I suppose, that there is to be a judgment day at the end of the world.”

“I certainly do; and that is what I understood you to deny.”

“According to your theology God will judge the world three times. 1. All are judged in this world, you assert. 2. All are judged at death. 3. All will be judged at the end of the world. Here are three distinct judgments. I, on the other hand, contend, that God judges us but once, and that will continue as long as we live. His law is stamped on the soul, and our eternal life will only increase its impression, its vividness, and by that immutable law, ingrained in the soul, we are now judged, and ever will be judged. If our character is in harmony with that law, peace, bliss, heaven is our portion. If we are disloyal to that law, we are crushed on the iron track. And what is true now ever will be true—obedience ever will lead to heaven, and disobedience to hell. Instead of their being three judgments, there is only one; and instead of three seasons of judgment, the true judgment is eternal. I believe, then, in an everlasting and universal judgment.”

“I should like to hear a discourse on that kind of a judgment, for it is a new idea to me.”

“I will deliver a discourse on that subject this evening.”

Traveled to Memphis, where I spoke six times. Delivered a discourse on the occasion of the death of C. S. Webber, who had departed this life about one year previous. He was from Ohio, and had labored in Missouri two years. The good cause lost an active and efficient laborer in his death. He was untiring in his efforts, and it was his delight to proclaim the unsearchable riches of heaven. At a subsequent visit to this place, a clergyman arose in the congregation, and propounded some thirty or forty questions, which he had written for the occasion, and desired me to answer them, which I did as I best could.

“You teach that punishment is designed to reform the sinner. What evidence is there that you are correct?”

“Every sorrow, every pain, resulting from transgression, is a voice of God telling the offender that he has done wrong, has violated a law of the Creator, and is on the open road to ruin, and urges him to retrace his steps. It is a thunder-clap from the Almighty, reverberating through the soul and body of the transgressor, telling him of his prodigality, warning him to flee from the wrath to come, and begging him to return to truth and duty. Pain is as clearly and as certainly the voice of God condemning vice, and urging the offender to abandon the forbidden path, and walk in virtue’s ways, as any word ever spoken by a living prophet. It is God speaking directly to man, face to face.

“Happiness also being the natural and sure result of virtue, is a divine approbation of the christian life; it is the voice of God sanctioning virtue and encouraging the good man in righteousness. And this approbation of virtue, and condemnation of vice, is a revelation to man in all climes and ages. It is older than the written Bible, and is proclaimed to all the sons and daughters of earth, ‘Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.’ Ps. xix. 2, 3.

“True, it is often drowned in the clamor of passion, disregarded by the ignorant, and unheeded by the thoughtless; but its testimony against all wrong, and for all right, constantly sounding in the ears, and being telegraphed through the soul and body of every human being, has ever more or less curbed the passions of the vicious, and promoted righteousness. Happiness is man’s end and aim. For that he toils from the cradle to the grave; and he is assured from his own experience, which is the revelation from God to man I have been speaking of, that vice surely brings misery, and virtue surely brings happiness. This fact in every one’s experience has every where lessened vice and increased virtue, notwithstanding passion, ignorance, false philosophy, and false religion—flesh and the devil—have blasphemously called it delusion, irreligion, infidelity.”

“You remarked in your first discourse, that there is an analogy between the earth and man. Is not that infidelity?”

“I can see no infidelity in it. It is best not to be afraid of the truth. That there is a striking analogy between man’s physical organism, and the earth of which it is a product, is certainly correct. 1. The rock of the earth corresponds to the bones in the human frame. 2. The dust covering the rocky skeleton of the earth corresponds to the flesh spread over these bones. 3. The veins of water meandering through the earth answer to the purple currents coursing every part of the body. 4. The earth has internal fires, the body has internal heat. 5. The hair of the head, which is a vegetable, corresponds to the vegetable growth covering the earth. 6. The earth is even sometimes sick, like man, and is only relieved by vomiting forth its feverish contents. 7. The earth is surrounded by an atmosphere; philosophers tell us, that every man is enveloped in an atmosphere, emenating from his body. 8. The earth was once in a ruder condition than it is now; man was once coarser, more brutal than he is at the present time. 9. Man had a beginning—‘in the beginning God made the heavens and the earth.’ 10. This mortal body must die, be decomposed, return to the source whence it came; will not this earth die, be decomposed, and return whence it came? The gentleman may call this infidelity if he pleases. He can then finish the chapter of folly by calling summer, winter; heat, cold; light, darkness; truth, error; virtue, vice; and God, devil.”

A Presbyterian minister replied to one of my discourses, and after answering his objections, I proceeded southward, and lectured in Sand Hill, Milford, Edina and Newark. Subsequently I had an appointment to debate four days with a man in Newark. He was to try to sustain this proposition—“Universalism is no better than infidelity.” But it being impossible for me to reach there at the appointed time, the discussion did not take place, and I never could induce him afterwards to discuss that proposition. I delivered a series of discourses in Newark soon after this disappointment, and thus noticed the gentleman’s proposition:

Mr. Matlock, I understand, when he was here to debate with me, told you in what respect “Universalism is no better than infidelity.” Universalism, he made out, agrees in one or two points with infidelity, therefore he wisely concluded that the whole system is no better than infidelity. Let us see what Campbellism is according to this rule. Mormonism says, there is a God, and that he will torment millions of mankind eternally; Campbellism says the same, therefore Campbellism is no better than Mormonism, and Mr. Matlock might as well go to Salt Lake and marry a dozen of his Mormon sisters. Paganism says, there is a burning hell for the wicked; Campbellism says there is a burning hell for the wicked, therefore Campbellism is no better than Paganism, and Mr. Matlock had better sacrifice his jackass to appease the wrath of his offended God. Catholicism teaches, that the unbaptized will all be lost; Campbellism teaches the same, therefore Campbellism is no better than Catholicism, and Mr. Matlock had better join the “mother church,” migrate to Rome, and sanctify himself by kissing the great toe of “his holiness,” the pope. Atheism tells us, that man is mortal and must die; Campbellism tells the same; Campbellism, then, is no better than Atheism.

But no system can be farther from infidelity than Universalism. It is all aglow with wisdom, justice, mercy, goodness, holiness, truth and virtue. It teaches, that there is a God who rules in heaven and on earth, that man is in his image, and in imitating him we derive our chief good, and that we are destined to approximate his adorable perfections forever and ever. A person must have a dark and deformed mind, who can denounce that spiritual system, and brand it with infidelity.

At another time in going from Newark to Edina, the rain poured down in torrents till I was about half way through, when the wind suddenly changing to the north, and the thermometer fell in one hour to four degrees below zero. When I reached a haven I was encased in a thick coat of ice, and could not get out of the saddle without assistance. The next day I rode thirty miles over the prairie in the face of a northwest wind, that cut like a razor.

From Newark I proceeded to Shelbyville, and spoke several times. Have often lectured there since. Thence to Paris, Middle Grove, Columbia, in all of which towns I had large congregations. Lectured in Fayette, and then crossed the Missouri river, one hundred and sixty miles from St. Louis, and preached in Booneville, a beautiful town on the bank of “Big Muddy,” as the Missouri is often called. This is a mighty river. Its waters, from hundreds of fountains in the Rocky Mountains, after dashing through deep gorges, tumbling over vast precipices, and winding over the immense deserts of the far west, all combine and make one of the largest rivers in the world. Although it is here a wide, deep and rapid stream, it is nearly two thousand miles to where it pours its vast contents into the salt sea. The bluffs on each side of it, two or three hundred feet high, are about seven miles apart, and show what this river has been doing these many years. The clay and rock that once filled that vast channel, seven miles wide, three hundred feet deep, and thousands of miles long, has all been floated away in its ceaseless and resistless tide—carried south, and helped to redeem Louisiana and Mississippi from ocean’s dominions.

About the finest country in the world is bordering on this river in the state of Missouri. On the north side of the river, from Iowa to where it connects with the Mississippi river, and on the south side from Nebraska, through Kansas to Jefferson City, Mo., the land is rolling, well timbered, and the soil rich, warm and deep. Tobacco, hemp, the cereals, the grasses, and the fruits of the temperate climate, grow here abundantly, and as near perfection as in any country. Mighty cities will be built on the banks of this great river, a dense population will throng its shores, and civilization will here attain its highest degree of glory.

Journeyed to Georgetown, and lectured several times; a man replied, I rejoined, when he said no more. Proceeded to Calhoun and preached twice; thence to Clinton where I spoke three times. This was the limits of my journey south. I was in the southwest part of Missouri. The country was thinly settled, and the adherents of the liberal faith were very scarce. L. C. Marvin had resided in Booneville, and preached some in this region, but there was no organization, and little was known of our faith. Still my congregations were large, and the people listened respectfully. This is an excellent field for a missionary. It is a beautiful country, and will soon be densely settled.

Traveled east to Warsaw, on the Osage river, and delivered my message. One preacher replied, and another asked many questions, so I had about as much as I could attend to. The latter inquired, if we organize churches, build meeting-houses, and ordain ministers; and was much surprised when informed of the number of our churches, meeting-houses and ministers. “Do you profess to be Christians?” said he. When I replied, yea, he added, “Well, I did not know that.”

Proceeded to Jefferson City; reached there about dark, wet and cold, for it had rained all day. Stopped at a hotel, and inquired if there was an appointment for me; the landlord thought there was at the Court-house. Hastened to the place without supper, as I had no time to attend to that, and found the Court-house lighted, and seven or eight very respectable appearing men in the large room. No more came, and I delivered a long discourse to that small crowd. When I was through, I mentioned the paper I was publishing in St. Louis, and every man present subscribed for it; and I found that they were some of the notables of the state—the lieutenant-governor, secretary of state, treasurer of state, auditor of state, post-master of the town, and two lawyers.

The next day crossed the Missouri river to its north side, and rode to Fulton, where I lectured, and then proceeded to Danville. Here I meet with opposition. When I had taken my seat in the Court-house, a man arose in the congregation, and wished me to take for my text, the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. I spoke one hour on that subject, although I had rode all day on horseback. As soon as I was through with my discourse on that text, another wanted an explanation of the “lake of fire” and “second death.” I accommodated him, when a third one replied to what I had said on both passages. I spoke another hour, and was glad to have some rest. Rode next day to Warrenton, thirty miles, and lectured, and by request, told the people all I knew about the devil. One man in the house seemed to think I had not done that character justice, and so he added what I omitted with reference to his being, history, works, character and future prospects. He made him out to be a very powerful being, more than a match for the Almighty, and the author of all the sin and woe of this world. I asked the preacher, whence the devil derived all his power to do so much mischief, and he would not condescend to inform me. I asked him why God did not kill the devil if he was such an enemy to him, and he said that was an infidel question.

I told the people I had not a particle of faith in the devil of the Methodist creed, for the gentleman was of that order. It represents him as a god—the god of hell—and the good book does not require faith in such a god. But there are devils many, that have a real existence. Every evil thought, purpose, passion; every error we cherish, and every wicked act we do, is a devil, for each and all of them are enemies to our peace, happiness and prosperity. Instead of preaching devils, let us go to work and kill those first in our own heart, and then aid our neighbors in exterminating those in their hearts. This would be dealing with devils to a good purpose.

After riding two more days I reached home. Had been absent three months, delivered eighty-four discourses, and rode about eight hundred miles. I was well pleased with my journey, for I had made many acquaintances, obtained a large number of subscribers for the paper, and had accomplished, I thought, some good. Mrs. Manford issued the October and November numbers of the paper in my absence.

CHAPTER XV.

The Golden Era Issued Semi-Monthly—The Missourians—Slave Holders—Travel in Southern Missouri—If Endless Woe is True all Nature would Weep—Region of Iron—Dunkards in Millersville—In Southern Illinois—Philosophy of Christ Being the Savior of the World—Refuse to Debate—Discussion in Carlyle—Inspiration—Our Name—Partialism Approaches Infidelity—Three Downward Steps—Reply to a Sermon—Hayne’s Sermon—Mr. Lewis Debating on his Knees—Written Discussions with Two Methodist Ministers—In Northern Missouri—A Preacher Replies—A Log Cabin—Talk With a Slave—Thomas Abbott—Negroes Hung—The Golden Era—Mrs. Manford Lecturing—Let Woman Work—A Circuit in Missouri—Traveling in Cold Weather—Debate in Quincy.

When the second volume of the Golden Era was commenced, it was issued semi-monthly, and changed to a quarto form. Its circulation rapidly increased, but I found it rather hard to pay expenses, for St. Louis was, and still is, a very dear place in which to live or do business. Labor, rent, paper, commanded high prices, and living expenses were about double they were in Indianapolis. If the people with whom I labored had not liberally compensated me, I could not have kept square with the world. But I found the Missourians to be hospitable, generous and liberal; and I shall ever remember with gratitude the many kindnesses I have received from their hands. I differed from many of them concerning slavery, and they knew it; but I am not conscious of any ill treatment from any one on that account. We often canvassed our differences, but in the kindest spirit on both sides, and some of my best friends were extensive slave holders. Many good people suppose that every slave holder was a semi-savage; but that is a great mistake. Some of the best men and women I was ever acquainted with owned slaves. They thought slavery was the normal condition of the black man, that God made him for servitude to the white man. They were educated to regard slavery in this light. Their churches, their pastors, their school teachers, so taught them. Slavery, then, was not wrong, but according to the laws of God. Those who know any thing of man well know that the most moral, most Christian people, may cherish intellectual errors without being morally corrupted. But slavery is now dead, and I have met but few in Missouri who are not glad of it. Although in their estimation, slavery was right enough, it was unprofitable, perplexing, and the bone of contention in the nation, and they are glad the cause of so much strife is no more. If slavery could be restored in Missouri to-day by the vote of the people, not one in twenty would vote—restore it.

During the second year I was in St. Louis, I traveled through Southern Missouri, Southern Illinois, and into the south part of Indiana. This journey occupied six weeks. Lectured in Potosi, forty miles south of St. Louis. A clergyman replied in a very bitter tone. I had spoken of the terrible doctrine of endless woe, and remarked, that if it was a fact in God’s universe, it seemed to me, that all nature would utter cries of woe. He was offended at the remark. I repeated, that if nine tenths of the inhabitants of God’s universe are to howl eternally in hell, nature, being all alive with goodness, would utter cries of woe.

“The woods would begin and tell it to the doleful winds;

And doleful winds, wail to the howling hills;

And howling hills, mourn to the dismal vales;

And dismal vales, sigh to the sorrowing brooks;

And sorrowing brooks, weep to the weeping streams;

And weeping streams, awake the groaning deep.

The heavens, great archway of the universe,

Would put sackcloth on; and Ocean, clothe herself

In garb of widowhood, and gather all

Her waves into a groan, and utter it,

Long, loud, deep, piercing, dolorous, immense.”

But instead of this universal wailing of woe, all nature is praising God for his goodness to the children of men. Oh, what mockery all this would be, if cries of agony, and wails of despair are to ascend forever! I cannot subscribe to such a creed if I would, and would not if I could.

Journeyed to Iron Mountain, and lectured once. Here is the far famed Iron Mountain, three hundred and twenty-eight feet high, and at its base covers an area of five hundred acres. How far downward the ore extends is not known, but an artisan well, one hundred and fifty feet deep, at the base of the hill, does not reach the limits of the iron. Its average yield in the furnace is fifty-six per cent. Near the surface the ore is found in pebbles or lumps, varying in size. Below, it becomes more compact and massive.

Six miles south, are other deposits of iron ore, not less rich, and, in all probability, not less extensive. One of these is Pilot Knob, five hundred and eighty-one feet high, with a base of three hundred and sixty acres. Sixty per cent. of this ore is iron. One mile from Pilot Knob is Shepherd Mountain, six hundred and sixty feet high, and covers eight hundred acres. This hill is penetrated with veins or dykes of iron ore, running in different directions. The ores obtained therefrom, are the magnetic, the specular, and a mixture of the two. The iron yield at the furnace is about the same as that of the other hills. There are known to be other very valuable deposits of iron ore in this vicinity, besides those I have named; and likely there are others not yet discovered, in the adjacent hills. There are also rich deposits of lead and zinc in different localities in Southern Missouri. Vast deposits of coal are likewise found in nearly all parts of the state. The truth is, Missouri, in mineral wealth, exceeds any other state in the Union; and the day will surely come when her immense resources will be developed.

Passed on to Millersville, where I found a large settlement of Dunkards, who had gradually emerged into Universalism. Soon after my visit they dissolved their connection with that sect. They migrated from North Carolina to that section while it belonged to Spain. A brother by the name of Hendricks preached with them till he died; then another brother of the settlement, J. H. Miller, was set apart for the ministry, and he dying a year since, —. Miller occupies his place as teacher. They do not go abroad for ministers, but select one of their number for the ministerial office, and he officiates till he is called home, and then another is chosen from the community as his successor. This, probably, was the apostolic method; and these excellent people, in christian virtues, and in simplicity of manners, come as near the original Christians as any since the first century of the Dispensation of Grace. When the rebellion raged in the land, to a man and woman, they were true to their country; and being in a very exposed position, they suffered sorely. I was in the neighborhood several times during the war; and at one time some rebels threatened to hang me, but they were told that if an hair of my head was hurt, an hundred men would instantly shoulder their muskets, and rid the settlement of rebels forever.

Crossed the Mississippi river at Cape Girardeau, one hundred and fifty miles below St. Louis, and traveled through the southern portion of Illinois to Mt. Vernon, Ind., on the Ohio river. Was one week between those points, and lectured ten times. Found but few who knew anything about the doctrines of the Restitution, and could not learn that a discourse had ever been before delivered in all that region in their defense. Of course the prejudices of the people were strong against me, but large numbers attended my meetings, and I was kindly treated. Robert Dale Owen attended one of them, and expressed himself favorably.

At Elizabethtown a lawyer wished to know the philosophy of Christ being the Savior of the world. I replied thus: Jesus Christ was a man, a mere man, nothing but a man. But what is a MAN? He is the last, the best, the crowning work of God—the ultimate of the universe, made in the “image and glory of God.” Jesus is called in the Bible, “The man, Christ Jesus.” He was the man of men, a perfect man, fully developed in all his spiritual faculties—head and shoulders above his brothers. Go into a corn-field, and you will find one ear larger than any other ear; it is only though an ear of corn. Go to the forest, and you will find one tree larger than any other tree; it is only though a tree. So, Christ was a man, but he was the largest man, spiritually, that ever lived; and that fact makes him our teacher, our savior. He cannot be otherwise. We cannot teach him; he must teach us. He is our heaven-appointed teacher, and all he said, and all he did, is the natural result of his spiritual pre-eminence. If this is correct his divine mission is based in nature, is based on the throne of God, and the gates of hell can never prevail against it. He will continue his work till all are taught, all are enlightened, all are saved. Greece and Rome had their wise men; but who of the best of them taught and lived as Jesus did? “Thou shall,” said he, “love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, soul and strength, and thy neighbor as thyself; bless and curse not; return good for evil; do by others as you would have others do by you.” He not only taught this with his lips, but his works, his character, his soul, his life, were in perfect harmony with such wisdom. He was godlike, thought God’s thoughts, spoke God’s words, and did God’s works. Heaven and earth will ever proclaim him—“the Savior of mankind.”

Delivered several discourses in Mt. Vernon, a pleasant town on the Ohio river, and then proceeded to Evansville, where I also lectured. A preacher here replied in a very abusive manner, and I paid but little attention to him. This offended the gentleman, and he dared me to a discussion. I refused to have anything to do with him, as Christ had said, “Cast not your pearl before swine.”

Returned to St. Louis through Booneville, Vincennes, Lawrenceville, Olney, Salem, Carlyle, and lectured in all those places.

About this time I had a discussion in Carlyle, Ill., with Mr. Stafford, a Presbyterian clergyman. We were to continue the discussion four days, but he brought it to a close at the end of the second day by going home, as he said, to find a calf that had jumped out of the lot. Whether he found the calf I cannot say, as he did not return to report his success. He knew nothing of the liberal faith, save what he had learned from its enemies, and was poorly prepared to meet the arguments in its favor.

He charged our people with denying the Bible, and I replied, We do not deny the Bible. We believe it contains a record of God’s revelation to man. We do not say that every book, chapter, verse and letter, from Genesis to Revelation, is inspiration. The Bible makes no such pretention. Considerable part of the Old and New Testaments is historical; and intelligent and well informed men, can write history correctly without inspiration, especially if they are eye-witnesses of what they relate. Jesus Christ, “the author and finisher of our faith,” was guided and illuminated by the Holy Spirit. His soul was in perfect harmony with the Great Soul of the universe, hence he said, “I and my Father are one.” “He who hath seen the Son hath seen the Father also;” hence, truth, from the Fountain of truth, flowed into his soul as naturally as water flows into a sponge; hence to do his Father’s will was his meat and drink; hence the wisdom he uttered was the wisdom of God. He is then the Way, the Truth, and the Life; the Teacher and Savior of man. He is a medium through which God speaks to, and blesses the world. Moses, the prophets, and the apostles, were also divinely illuminated, but not in the same degree Jesus was, for he was blessed with the spirit “without measure.” Jesus is the central figure among those anointed men. He was “in the form of God,” and in the “express image of his person,” by nature and by character. He is a sun, but they are stars. You may call this denying the Bible, if you please, but I am sure this affirms the Bible.

He found fault with our name—Universalist—said it was not scriptural. I remarked, It is admitted the word is not in the Bible; but the idea often occurs in that book. 1. God is the universal Father of mankind—“have we not all one Father?” 2. He is a universal Savior—“the Savior of all men.” 3. Jesus is a universal Savior—“the Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world.” 4. God’s will is for universal salvation—“who will have all men to be saved.” 5. God’s grace brings universal salvation—“for the grace of God which bringeth salvation to all men.” 6. There will be a universal ingathering into Christ—“gather together all things in Christ.” 7. There is to be a universal deliverance from earthly corruption—“the creation shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.” 8. Universal righteousness will finally prevail—“by the obedience of one shall many—the mass—be made righteous.” 9. Universal reconciliation shall finally be effected—“God is in Christ reconciling the world unto himself.” 10. There shall ultimately come a period of universal praise to God, and confession to God’s glory. (Phil. ii; Rev. v. 11). There will be a universal blessing of the nations, families and kindred—“all nations, families and kindred of the earth shall be blessed.” 12. There is to be a universal resurrection to a heavenly condition—“in Christ shall all be made alive.”

There is propriety, then, in the name. The Arminians were once called Universalists, because they believed in a universal atonement. We believe in a universal atonement, and in the universal efficacy of that atonement. In Europe, very learned men, men who master all the sciences, are called Universalists. It is an honorable name, then, a learned name, an appropriate name for those who recognize God as a universal Father and Savior, Christ as a universal Redeemer, and who rejoice in the hope of the universal destruction of sin, suffering and death, and the universal reign of truth, virtue, life and salvation. Universal means catholic. Our church, then, is the true Catholic Church—all of Adam’s race will finally be members of it, and partake of its blessings. What is called the Catholic Church is a very partial church. Notwithstanding the propriety of our name, I seldom use it—it sounds a little too sectarian for my taste. Some of my brethren are so in love with it, they hitch it to almost every thing. That may be all right; but I am not so deeply in love with the name as some seem to be. I had rather be called a godly man than a Universalist, whether I deserve the appellation or not; and I had rather hear my church called “the church of God,” than a Universalist church.

Returning to St. Louis, I lectured in Lebanon, and a man said the sentiments I advocated lead through Deism to Atheism. How is that? I replied. I am with the New Testament in believing in a God for ALL, and a Savior for ALL. Is there any Deism or Atheism in that? Orthodoxy is the first step downward, for it teaches a God for ALL, but a Savior for PART. It makes the first departure from the gospel. Deism is another step in the same direction, for it says a God for all, but a Savior for NONE. Atheism is at the foot of the ladder, for it proclaims a God for NONE, a Savior for NONE. There are, then, three downward steps from Christianity or Universalism, to Atheism—ALL—PART—NONE. Orthodoxy is the half-way house between Universalism and Infidelity.

Being requested to visit Florence, up the Illinois river about one hundred miles, to hear a discourse against Universal Salvation, and to reply if it was proper, I arrived by packet on Sunday at eleven o’clock, soon after the preacher had commenced his sermon. He spoke three hours, and made out, he supposed, a pretty strong case. After one hour’s intermission, I replied to the discourse, which also occupied three hours. The preacher, and his congregation, heard me through; and at candle lighting of the same day, I delivered another discourse in the same place. In my answer to the gentleman’s discourse I offered twenty-five objections to endless misery, and twenty-five objections to his view of a great judgment day; gave twenty-five proofs and arguments, that virtue and vice are rewarded in this world; furnished twenty-five reasons from Scripture for believing in the final salvation of mankind.

A few days after this, I lectured in Naples, Ill., and while the congregation were singing the second hymn, a Methodist preacher passed me a tract, which I had seen before. Many years ago, immediately after Hosea Ballou had delivered a discourse in some town in Vermont, Samuel Haynes, a Congregationalist clergyman, a gentleman of color, and pastor of a white congregation, and of considerable education, ability, and much wit, arose and preached a sermon from the words of the serpent to mother Eve, “Ye shall not surely die.” The thing was afterwards published and scattered far and near. The tract the preacher gave me was Haynes’ sermon. The serpent is represented as a Universalist preacher, and his words, “Ye shall not surely die,” as the essence of Universalism. Being in a humor for it, I took parson Haynes’ text for my text that evening, followed his arrangement, adopted some of his language, and put the “boot on the right foot,” I spoke as follows:

The Holy Scriptures are a peculiar fund of instruction. They inform us of the origin of creation; of the primitive state of man—his ignorance, folly and degradation. It appears that he was placed in the garden of Eden, with full liberty to regale himself with all the delicious fruits that were to be found, except what grew on one tree; if he ate of that he should SURELY die on the DAY of transgression, (Gen. ii. 17,) was the declaration of the Almighty. Mark the language—he was not to be punished in the next world, but in this world, and on the day, at the very time he sinned. Let this be remembered, for it is God’s truth.

Happy were the human pair amid this delightful paradise, until a certain preacher endeavored to convince them that they could sin without suffering IMMEDIATE punishment, without being punished on the DAY of transgression.

We may attend to the character of the preacher; to the doctrine inculcated; to the hearers addressed; to the mediums or instruments of the preaching.

I. As to the PREACHER, I would observe, he is said by the Bible, to be the lust of the flesh. “Let no one say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God, but man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed.” James i. 13, 14. He is also called the carnal mind, and that is ever at enmity against God. Read the seventh and eighth chapters of Romans carefully. In Genesis, lust—the carnal mind—is personified and called a serpent, and in other parts of the Bible termed satan, devil and adversary, for those terms mean a deceiver, an opposer, and that is the character of the tempter in the human breast. This was the tempter that led the first pair astray.

But to be a little more particular, let it be observed,

1. He is an old preacher. He lived about one thousand seven hundred years before Abraham—about two thousand four hundred and thirty years before Moses—four thousand and four years before Christ. It is now five thousand eight hundred and fifty-four years since he commenced preaching. By this time he must have acquired great skill in the art.

2. He is a very cunning, artful preacher. The serpent, his prototype, is said to possess much wisdom and cunning. When Elymus, the sorcerer, came to turn away people from the faith, he is said to be full of all subtlety, not only because he was an enemy of all righteousness, but on account of his cunning and craftiness. He manifests his cunning by preaching to the world, that they shall not surely be punished on the DAY of transgression. That is a very pleasing doctrine to the wicked. They love to be told that the time of retribution is FAR IN THE DISTANCE, especially as that future punishment can all be escaped by taking the benefit of a spiritual bankruptcy, any hour before they die. Yes, he is a cunning preacher.

3. He is a very laborious, unwearied preacher. He has been in the ministry almost six thousand years, and yet his zeal is not in the least abated. The apostle Peter compares him to a roaring lion, roaming about seeking whom he may devour. He is far from being circumscribed within the narrow limits of parish, state or continental lines; but his haunts and travels are very large and extensive. Wherever the doctrine prevails that the wicked are not punished WHEN and WHERE they sin, the tempter is preaching the same sermon he preached to mother Eve.

4. He is a heterogeneous preacher, if I may so express myself. He mixes truth with error, in order to make it go well, or to carry his point. Nobody would bite at his hook if there was no truth on it. He quotes fluently from the Bible, but then we must receive his interpretation. If we dissent from it, all hell is in an uproar, and we must be kicked out of his church, and out of the world, if possible. Thousands have been burned at the stake, because they would not receive his interpretation of the Bible. He admits we have reason, but then it is carnal and not to be trusted; we must believe without the reason why. He admits there is one God, but there are three persons in the Godhead; that is, one makes three, and three one. Christ is the Son of God, and at the same time the Father; God is infinite in wisdom, power and goodness, but Christ came to reconcile him to us; God wishes to save all mankind but cannot; God can save all mankind, but wishes to damn some to glorify his justice; God’s justice requires the endless damnation of all men, but his mercy pleads for the salvation of all, and yet God’s attributes all harmonize. Men are born totally depraved, and utterly incapable of doing anything acceptable to God, yet it is the duty of men to repent and turn to God; Christ has made an atonement for the sins of the whole world, but half of the world will be damned eternally for their sins; God is a universal Father, God is love, and yet will mock and laugh at the eternal groans and pains of his children; heaven is the perfection of love, but the saints will shout glory, when they see their fathers, and mothers, and children, damned. Yes, he preaches truth as well as error.

5. He is a very presumptuous preacher. Notwithstanding God had declared on one occasion, in the most plain and positive manner, “On the DAY thou eatest thereof, shall thou surely die,” yet this audacious wretch had the impudence to confront Omnipotence, and say, “ye shall not surely die”—on the DAY of transgression—and he is still repeating the old sermon through the length and breadth of the land.

6. He is a very successful preacher. He draws a great number after him. No preacher can command hearers like him. He was successful with our first parents—with the old world. Noah once preached to the world that the judgments of heaven would shortly come on wicked men, but the tempter repeated his old sermon, and he made more converts than Noah did. So it was with the cities of the plains. Lot preached to them; the substance of which was, “Up, get out of this place: for the Lord will destroy this city.” Gen. xix. 14. But the old declaimer told them, no danger, no danger; God will not punish men in this world, and therefore will not destroy this city, to which they generally gave heed, and Lot seemed as one who mocked. They believed the Orthodox preacher and were consumed. The father of lies is a very successful preacher. He not only made converts of Adam and Eve, the Antediluvians and Sodomites, but he has proselyted most of the world. Nearly all mankind contend that God’s judgments are not in the earth. Dr. Franklin was about right when he said a lie would travel all over the country, while truth was putting on his boots.

II. Let us attend still more to the DOCTRINE inculcated by this preacher. Ye shall not surely die on the day of transgression. Bold assertion, without a single argument to support it. The death contained in the threatening was, doubtless, moral death. They did die to their former innocence, to the sweet communion which they had before enjoyed with the Father, to all the enjoyments of their beautiful garden of fruits and flowers. The Bible says, “To be carnally minded is death;” it is termed a “death in trespasses and sins;” “The wages of sin is death;” “You hath he quickened who were dead;” “We know we have passed from death unto life.” This is the death threatened, and the Almighty assured Adam that he would suffer it on the VERY DAY he sinned. But the preacher said, No, all is false, there is no punishment in this world, no hell, the wages of sin is not death.

III. We will now take notice of the hearers addressed by this preacher. This we have in the context. And the serpent said unto the woman, “Ye shall not surely die.” That Eve had not so much experience as Adam, is evident; and so she was not equally able to withstand temptation. This was doubtless the reason why the tempter chose her, with whom he might hope to be successful. Probably he took the time when she was separated from her husband.

That this preacher has always had the greatest success in the dark and ignorant parts of the earth, is evident; his kingdom is a kingdom of darkness. He is a great enemy of light. He will not permit his disciples to hear a religious or philosophical discourse, read a religious or philosophical book or paper, that contradicts his creed—they must be like the old knight, read only one side of the guide-board, and if they happen to get an idea the old creed don’t sanction, they are called heretics. They may think, but not out of a given circle; they may reason, provided they reason as the preacher does. And the consequence is, that where the people think, reason and read least, Orthodoxy has its truest adherents, and where the people think, reason and read most, the doctrine of Holy Writ is most prevalent, “Behold the righteous shall be recompensed in the earth, much more the wicked and sinner.” Prov. xi. 31.

IV. The instruments or mediums made use of by the preacher, will now be considered. Every person, creed and institution, that propagates the doctrine that men shall not surely die on the day of transgression, is an instrument of the father of lies.

1. Calvinism, Arminianism, Mormonism, Catholicism, Mahommedanism and Heathenism, tell us that this world is not one of retribution, that God does not here reward virtue or punish vice. They unite in teaching that this life is a state of probation, of trial, and of course no one is punished till his probation ends, his trial is closed. This is the deceiver’s first sermon gone to seed.

2. The preachers of all these isms are also his instruments. They are faithful to their father’s cause, and he is much attached to them. If one opposes their creed, some of them will at once exhibit the spirit of the devil.

3. The earth is deluged with books, pamphlets and papers, teaching that men shall not be punished on the day of transgression.

INFERENCES.

1. That the devil is not dead, but still lives, and is able to preach as well as ever, Ye shall not die on the day of transgression.

2. Orthodoxy is no new fangled scheme, but can boast of great antiquity.

3. See a reason why it ought to be rejected because it is an ancient devilish doctrine.

4. See a reason why satan is such a mortal enemy to the promises of the Bible, for it says, “Christ came to destroy the devil.” Heb. ii. “Will make an end of sin.” Dan. ix. “Behold the Lamb that taketh away the sin of the world.” “He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the world.”

5. He hates the gospel, because it is “good news, glad tidings”—is the “glorious gospel of the blessed God”—“gospel of the grace of God”—“gospel of our salvation”—“gospel of peace.”

6. He hates the true Christ, because he will save the world from sin, error, and death. “We have seen and do testify that this is the Christ the Savior of the WORLD.” When the world shall be saved, satan’s occupation will be gone.

7. See whence it was that satan exerted himself so much to convince our first parents there was no punishment in this world, because the denunciation of the Almighty was true, and he was afraid that Adam and Eve would continue in the belief of it, and so not believe in endless punishment in eternity—his favorite doctrine. If there was no proof of present punishment, satan would not be so busy in trying to convince men that there was none.

8. We infer that ministers should not be proud of their preaching. If they preach the true gospel, they only in substance preach Christ’s sermons. If they preach, “Ye shall not surely die on the day of transgression,” they only make use of the devil’s old notes that he delivered about six thousand years ago.

9. It is probable that Orthodoxy will still prevail, since this preacher is still alive, and not in the least superannuated; and every effort against him only enrages him more and more, and excites him to new inventions and exertions to build up his cause.

To close the subject. As the author of this discourse has spoken of the character of satan, he trusts no one will feel himself personally injured by this short sermon. But should any imbibe a degree of friendship for this aged deceiver, and think that I have not treated this Orthodox preacher with that respect and veneration he justly deserves, let them be so kind as to point it out, and I will most cheerfully retract; for it has ever been a maxim with me, “Render unto all their due.”

This was too much for the three preachers present so they left in a hurry, when I reached the “inferences.” As they were marching out, I remarked, “The wicked flee when no man pursueth.” They intended an insult by throwing that tract in my face; but the new dress in which I returned their tract kindled their wrath; and leaving the house as they did, was an acknowledgment, that they were defeated. The congregation fully appreciated the “situation,” and two or three zealous hearers clapped their hands as the preachers were departing.

Mr. Lewis, with whom I debated in Springfield, sent me word, that if I should visit Jerseyville, Ill., his church would be at my service. Accordingly, I made an appointment in that place, and Mr. Lewis took a seat with me in the desk. I told him I was perfectly willing he should make any strictures on my discourse he might see proper. “Oh, no,” said he, “I have invited you into my pulpit, and it would not be proper for me to reply to your discourse.” In my sermon, I said nothing about other creeds, but presented my own faith in as clear a light as possible. Mr. Lewis, at my request, made the closing prayer, and such a prayer was never before or since heard, I think. He took up my discourse, item by item, systematically, and replied to it. He would first tell the Lord what the speaker had said on a given point, and then say, “O Lord, thou knowest that is not true, for by the mouth of the prophet Isaiah, thou said”—and then he would quote from the Bible. Having argued that point to his satisfaction, he would take up another subject; and so on till he got through with my discourse. Having finished his reply, I told the congregation I did not like that way of debating; but he said, “I would as soon debate on my knees as on my feet.” Before I left town, we made arrangements for a written discussion in the Golden Era. He was to write twelve letters; but, having written six of them he sickened and died. I called on him during his sickness, at Jacksonville, and he said, “Brother Manford, if I do not go to heaven this time, I will not work as hard as I have done. I have broken myself down by hard work—by trying to save souls.”

Soon after this, a Methodist clergyman of Indiana, by the name of Mahan, proposed having a written discussion in the Golden Era. He agreed to write twelve letters; but six or seven exhausted his resources. Subsequently, he tried his hand at discussion with B. F. Foster, in the Herald, and was handsomely defeated.

I made a long journey through Northern Missouri into Iowa; thence to St. Joseph; then down to Western, Kansas City, Independence, Lexington, Booneville, back to St. Louis. Traveled twelve hundred miles, all on horseback, and lectured most every day. In most of the towns and villages on this route I had no references, and generally wrote to the postmasters to make appointments. The principles of the liberal faith were entirely new to most of the people, and as notices of my meetings were published pretty extensively, large numbers attended, some going ten, twenty, and thirty miles. I had much controversy in public, and many conversations in private, concerning the new doctrines. Found some who received them with glad hearts, and many others who were disposed to investigate before they condemned. Received but little compensation for my labor and time, but obtained many subscribers for the paper.

Have room for only a few of the incidents of this journey. In Kirksville, a minister asked many questions, and finally came to the sage conclusion, that reason was carnal, that I was an emissary of the devil, and that he would say no more to me; but gave notice, that he should reply to my discourse the next Sunday. In Greentop, found a settlement of believers from Tennessee. They were excellent people; often visited them in subsequent years; but the war dispersed them, and I understand, they are scattered over the plains of Nebraska. Kirksville, near by, was one of the battle-fields of the rebellion; rebel Porter’s forces were there routed and ruined, and the town was much injured. Colonel Linder, one of my friends, was an active man in the Union cause. I traveled on what was called the “Mormon Trace,”—a road from Nauvoo to St. Joseph, the route the Mormons journeyed when they went from Nauvoo to Salt Lake. It was generally through a wild region, but the face of the country was rolling and pleasant. About sundown one day, I rode up to a cabin and inquired the distance to the next house.

“Ten miles.”

“Will you keep me to-night?”

“I reckon so; the old woman is powerful sick; I have a heap of ailments in my cabin.”

“Are there any settlements up the creek?”

“Oh, yes; right smart sprinkling.”

There were fifteen men and women belonging to the house, and how we were all to be disposed of that night, was rather a puzzler to me, as there were only two rooms in the cabin; but there was really no difficulty on that score. The principal room answered four valuable purposes, although it was not more than twenty feet square—it was a kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, and bed-room. True, there were only two bedsteads in it, but when bed time arrived, the floor was covered with blankets, which afforded ample sleeping accommodations. I was conducted into the “parlor bed-room,” which was entirely void of all “modern improvements.” It was made of round logs, without any weather-boarding, plastering, ceiling, or “chinking;” the stars could be seen through its sides and roof, while its floor was clay, covered about six inches deep with water. In one corner of the pen some stakes were driven into the mud, rails fastened to them, on which a straw bed was laid, with a blanket or two. That was my bed; no, not mine, but our bed; for soon a big fellow stretched himself on one side of me, and he was followed by another, who laid about six feet of flesh and bone across the foot of the bed. I was tired, and slept first-rate all night, and crawled out of the den in the morning much refreshed.

Mine host said he had been on the frontier all his life; did not own the land he occupied—was a squatter—and wanted to sell his “improvements,” to go farther west, where he could hunt bear and buffalo. He said he was a Baptist; and when I told him of my faith, he declared he did not want to go to heaven if all sinners are to go there.

“But no sinners will go there; they will be regenerated.”

“Don’t tell me that; the reprobates will not be regenerated; their doom is sealed. I have grace in my soul, and know I am right.”

When I offered to pay him for keeping me, he replied, “You are welcome; the fare was hard, but if you come this way again, give me a call.”

A day or two after this, I rode with a negro a few hours. He was returning from visiting his wife and children.

“Why do you not live with your family?”

“Master won’t sell me to my wife’s master, so I live twenty miles from her.”

“How often do you see her?”

“’Bout once a month.”

“Did you ever have another wife?”

“Yes; but her master died, and she was taken south, and the children.”

“Have you heard since of her, and the children?”

“No; don’t know whar they are; may be dead.”

“Perhaps this wife and these children will be sold south.”

“I hope I may die if they be.”

“Why do you not buy your freedom?”

“Master won’t sell me. I offered him a thousand dollars, and pay him in five years, but he would not sell me. Black men can’t do anything.”

“Are you treated well?”

“Yes; but I work hard; but I would not mind that if my family were with me.”

“Where are you from?”

“Virginia; left thar many years ago.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Sold south, long ago.”

“Where are your brothers and sisters?”

“Don’t know whar they are; sold to a trader.”

“Do you belong to any church?”

“I belong to the Methodist church, and try to preach.”

“How often do you preach?”

“Most every Sunday.”

“In how many places?”

“Four places.”

“Are you paid for preaching?”

“The black people pay me a little.”

“Do you think your white master will go to heaven?”

“Why, yes.”

“Do you think slavery is right?”

“I can’t think it is.”

“How then can you think slave-holders can be saved?”

“I don’t know how, but I sort of think some of them will be saved.”

“Would you not save all white men and all black men if you could?”

“That I would.”

“Will not God save them all?”

“Why, no.”

“Then you are better than God, are you?”

“Why, master, who ever heard of God saving all men? Now, I think of it, a man is to preach in Gentryville to-night, who preaches that very doctrine, and I am bound to hear him.”

“What do the people say about him?”

“They say he is a bad man, and I believe he is, or he would not preach such a doctrine.”

Here the negro left me to go to his home, and I saw him at the window of the school-house that evening, the picture of astonishment. Met him in the street the next day, and he said, “Master, forgive me for what I said yesterday.”

Lectured in Weston, and became acquainted with Thomas Abbott, who was residing and preaching in that place. He subsequently moved to St. Louis, and for several years past has resided in Mt. Vernon, Ind. He obeys the injunction, “Go and preach.” He does go, far and near; he labors in season and out of season, in his Master’s service. He has also become a noted debater, and has had great success in preaching and debating.

On the other side of the Missouri was Kansas Territory, inhabited then only by Indians, but now is a populous state, with several large cities. While I was in Lexington on this journey, or at a subsequent time, two negroes were hung for murdering their owner. He had whipped them unmercifully, and they killed him for it. They rode from the prison to the gallows, through the principal streets of town, in a wagon, on their coffins; white hoods were on their heads, white frocks were thrown over their shoulders, and large ropes were around their necks. On the road to the gallows, the poor creatures sang as loud as they could scream,

“I am bound for the kingdom;

Will you go to glory with me?”

This scene, take it all in all, was the most abominable, outrageous, and disgusting exhibition I ever witnessed. “What do you think of that?” said I to a Methodist preacher, who was looking on with a satisfied air. “The majesty of the law must be sustained.” That same fellow was a hot headed rebel when the war broke out. His name was Kavanagh; he formerly resided in Indiana. The town was full of negroes; but they were silent; I saw tears in many of their eyes.

After publishing the Golden Era four years, I disposed of it to Thomas Abbott, and he soon after connected it with the Gospel Herald, a paper published in Indianapolis, Ind. It was being issued weekly when it was sold; but I found, by experience, that a weekly paper of our denomination could not be sustained in St. Louis, the expense of publishing, and of living being so high. While I issued the paper, I received hardly any compensation for all my toil; and Mrs. Manford did all her work gratuitously, and I could not have hired a person to do what she did for less than five hundred dollars per year.

The Golden Era had done a good work, and it was like parting with a dear friend to dispose of it. Its circulation when it went out of my hands, was thirty-five hundred, I think. Its name had become quite popular. Captain Bursie, who was a subscriber, named his splendid new steamer, “The Golden Era,” and Bridges Brothers, of St. Louis, who were also subscribers, called a cooking stove they patented, “The Golden Era.”

But I did not cease working for the good cause when the paper was disposed of; I rather worked harder than ever. For about two years I was absent most of the time, preaching in Missouri, Illinois, Iowa and Indiana.

Mrs. Manford was also in the field lecturing, not on theology, but on temperance, the elevation of woman, and general education. She delivered some excellent lectures on those subjects in Louisiana, Hannibal, Macomb, and other places. Let woman speak as well as man in the lecture-room, and even in the pulpit; let her speak on all subjects of human interest. As she belongs to the human family, she is as much interested as man in all intellectual and moral subjects. And heaven, having gifted her with a soul, instinct with wisdom, purity and goodness, she is well qualified to instruct and moralize her race. I know it is quite fashionable for men to flatter women by calling them their “better half,” “angel,” but to be indignant and disgusted if they aspire to a position outside of the kitchen or nursery. Such men are very polite to women in the street and drawing-room, but are wrathy if they will not be their drudges or play things. As woman is a citizen of the world as well as man, she is entitled to all the rights and privileges he is entitled to. The world should be open to her intellectual and moral activities, that she may make the best use of her time and talent. Let her “sue and be sued,” buy and sell, vote at the polls, and be president of these United States, if she can get votes enough. England’s best rulers have been queens, and why would not American women make good presidents?

Antiquated, and barbarous laws and customs, that have for ages degraded woman, are being modified or abandoned; and the day is not far distant when she will fill the place in society that God designed, and humanity requires. But it must not be expected that she will come from the wash-tub, or band-box, in the one place a slave, and in the other a pet, prepared fully for her new position and responsibilities. She may long make many blunders, and for a time illy perform her part, all of which many self-conceited, and self-appointed, “lords of creation” will point to and triumphantly exclaim, “Did I not tell you women were only fit for man’s convenience?”

I spent three months in the southwest part of Missouri, traveling on a circuit I established in that region. Preached monthly in twenty-five places, and rode from ten to forty miles nearly every day. Tried to get a minister to continue the work but failed. Good societies could have been established in Booneville, Georgetown, Calhoun, Clinton, Oseola, Leesville, Warsaw, Pisgah, Rocheport—places I visited. I also spent six months traveling and preaching in the northern part of the state. Visited twenty-two places monthly for six months, and rode most every day. Spent three days each month at home. I also failed in my effort to induce a minister to locate in that region. Clergymen of the liberal faith, residing in the free states, were averse to moving into Missouri, it then being a slave state. They were not only generally opposed to slavery, regarding it as “the sum of all villainy,” but they had no faith our cause could be permanently established among slave-holders. They thought that human slavery and Universalism were eternally and universally at war with each other.

The winters of 1855 and ’56 were about the coldest ever experienced in the West, and I spent both winters in Iowa, traveling and lecturing. Often rode on horseback all day when the thermometer was far below zero, and delivered a long discourse at night. The Iowa prairies are cold places in a cold day, especially to one whose face is northward. If I had twenty, thirty, or forty miles to ride, I always made it a rule not to go near a fire till I had finished my day’s travel. Some men I have rode with, must warm themselves by a fire, whenever they get a little cold, and swallow perhaps a dram of liquor; and I noticed that they always suffered much more from cold than I did. The best method for a traveler, in an arctic day, to get up an internal heat, is, not by whisky, not by sitting by a fire a few moments, but by thrashing his arms, swinging his legs, or running a short distance by the side of his horse.

I had a public discussion in Quincy, Ill., with a Methodist preacher, which continued four days. Large numbers attended, and much good was effected. The day after the discussion closed, which was Sunday, a society was organized, and soon after a meeting-house was erected. The society prospered for awhile, under the ministry of J. H. Hartzell, now of Buffalo, N. Y. But he leaving, it was finally disbanded, and the meeting-house sold, and many of its members united themselves with the Unitarian society of the place. Quincy is a flourishing town, on the east bank of the Mississippi river, and is growing rapidly in importance. The river will probably be bridged there within a few years.

CHAPTER XVI.

The Golden Era—Extensive Traveling—In Missouri and Kansas—Talk with a Deist in Jefferson City—Moses—The Prophets—Replied to in Pisgah—Talk with a Rum-seller—In Kansas City—In Wyandotte—Conversation with a Clergyman Concerning Christ and his Work—Lectured in Leavenworth—Destruction of Man’s Enemies—In St. Joseph—The Mercy of God—In Kingston—Rich Man and Lazarus.

As I have said in a previous chapter, the Golden Era, after it passed out of my hands, was merged into the Gospel Herald, a paper published in Indianapolis, Ind., and St. Louis was without a denominational paper. This was not contemplated when I disposed of that paper. Mr. Abbott was confident, that with my assistance as editor, it could be sustained in St. Louis; but experience taught him otherwise. Although being well satisfied that a weekly paper could not be supported in St. Louis, I was confident that a monthly magazine could be, and hence in 1857 I commenced a monthly periodical, called Manford’s Monthly Magazine. It contained twenty-four pages, and the price was one dollar per year. By the close of the first volume I had two thousand subscribers—a pretty good beginning. Mrs. Manford was co-editor, book-keeper, and generally assisted in mailing the magazine.

I resolved to again canvass Missouri, Illinois, Iowa and Indiana, for the benefit of the new journal; and from 1857 to the spring of 1861, I was a large portion of the time on the wing. The Magazine was popular with our people, and I had no difficulty in obtaining subscribers. The articles were chiefly doctrinal, explanatory, and answers to the ten thousand objections usually offered to the liberal faith.

During the first year of its publication, I took a horseback journey up the Missouri river into Kansas, and was absent nearly all winter. At a hotel in Jefferson City I had the following conversation with a Deist:

“I believe the Old Testament is full of lies, fables and absurdities. I would as soon believe ‘Guliver’s Travels’ to be divine as the old Bible.”

“You are too fast, my friend. Without pretending that the Old Testament is perfect, I find many excellencies in that book. That Moses, the principal character of it, had a deep insight into many spiritual realities, must be conceded by every candid person. He was born, brought up, educated, and lived till he was eighty years old, in the midst of the grossest superstition. The Egyptians deified the bull, the cat, the snake, the crocodile; and many of their other religious notions corresponded with such debased superstitions. Moses boldly denounced the whole of their mythological abominations; and declared that there was only one God, and that he was a spiritual being, and ruled in heaven and on earth. The Egyptians believed in a formal judgment for every soul after death; Moses taught that God judgeth in the earth. The Egyptians maintained that there was a hell for some and a heaven for others over the river of death; Moses taught on all occasions that virtue is rewarded, and vice is punished, in this world. These four tenets are the ground-work, the basis, of Moses’ system. He introduced certain forms and ceremonies to be practiced, till a superior Light would bless the world, and his countrymen be more advanced in civilization, and when that Light came they were laid aside. But his doctrines of one God, who rules the universe, and rewards virtue and punishes vice, are not obsolete. They are eternal truths, and you say you believe them. You are then a disciple of Moses, fool as you say he was. That Moses did not know the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, is readily admitted; that all he said and did were not divine, is also admitted; and it is also conceded that sometimes his spirit did not seem to harmonize with the forgiving spirit of Christ. But with all his imperfections, he was a man among men; he was the tallest man of his day, and his brow was bathed in the rising sun, when the world was yet shrouded in darkness.”

“To that view of Moses I do not much object. But what is called the history of the Jews, is contradictory, and often much exaggerated.”

“There may be errors in the Bible history of the Jews, but the main statements are doubtless correct. The writers thereof make no pretention to inspiration, that I know of. You do not reject the history of the United States, because some of the writers thereof contradict each other.”

“Well, there are the pretended prophets; do you think they were God’s prophets?”

“Many events they predicted have taken place. I believe, sir, that God has had prophets in all ages and climes. All history, ancient and modern, is full of the supernatural element. It is found in Grecian, Roman, European, and American histories. It is found in the life of Socrates, Plato, Origen, Joan of Arc, Swedenborg, Stirling, Lavater, Oberlin, Wesley, Luther, Murray, and in the life of innumerable other worthies of whom the world is not worthy. We find them among the despised and forsaken. They have been spit upon in all the streets in the world. They have been burned at the stake as enemies of God and man. But they cared for none of these things; they knew that they were walking in the light of heaven, and all the powers of darkness could not terrify their brave souls.

“We pity the Indian prince’s ignorance of the fact that water by cold is converted into solid ice. He was sure that such a phenomena was unnatural, and ‘contrary to all human experience.’ We know though that it is done; and if we know anything of the history of mankind, we must admit that it teaches that supernaturalism has been prevalent at all times. But if we pronounce this revelation of the historic page, delusion, to be consistent we should call all history imposition, for the supernatural is as well attested as any statement of history. The truth is, there is an unseen hand directing all the affairs of the universe; and man, whether living or dying, in time or in eternity, is constantly controlled, more or less, by that invisible power. It is man’s natural condition to be in alliance with the spiritual. When he is material in all his hopes and aspirations, coarse and brutish, he is in an unnatural condition, and the spirit of God almost parts with him, and leaves him nearly alone in his sins. But the pure and good are exalted to heavenly places, commune with the spirits of the just, and are enveloped in an halo of glory. Some rise so high, that the hand of God is on their brow, and then they see visions, dream dreams, heal the sick, raise the dead, and cast out devils. Such are God’s prophets; such were the Jewish prophets, and the world in all ages has been blessed with the divine utterances of such godly men and women. Although their brows were immersed in the sun-light of heaven, their feet were on this earth, and hence we may expect to find their revelations sometimes tinged with the darkness of earth.”

Lectured in Pisgah, and a man gave notice that he should reply the next Sunday. I begged of him to offer his objections while I was in town; he would not consent to, but said, “On next Sunday I will show that you deny the Bible, and teach a bundle of lies.” “Name one lie I have uttered to-night.” “You can not get me into a controversy now.” Preached in Booneville, and then proceeded to Marshall, where I spoke twice. Had some talk with a rum-seller.

“Do you think it right to poison and impoverish all you can?”

“I don’t poison or impoverish.”

“You don’t! Every dram you sell poisons and impoverishes somebody. The body is the habitation built for the soul, made in the image and glory of God to dwell in; and it is your business from early morn to late at night, to stand in your den and deal damnation to God’s noble work. What abominable business for a man to engage in! What a life to live! What prostitution of time and opportunities! I should think you would be fearful that the indignant earth would open its jaws and crush you to atoms.”

“If your doctrine is true I am safe.”

“As my doctrine is true I would not stand in your shoes for all of this world. You are a curse to yourself, your family, and this town. The fires that are consuming you, are scorching all with whom you come in contact.”

“But you preach that all will be saved, and of course I am included.”

“You will not be saved in this world, nor in the world to come, till you repent of your sins in sackcloth and ashes, and by the grace of God are thoroughly regenerated. You will have to work out your own salvation; and judging from your business, that you occupy a very low plane in this world, morally and spiritually, I fear you will fill a low one in the other land, and will have to work long and hard ere you will know much about heaven. I advise you not to credit the slang of Orthodox preachers, that according to Universalism all will be saved any how. We believe in nothing of that kind. The pure and good only are saved in this world, and the pure and good only will be saved in the immortal world. Now, my friend, permit me to give you one word of advice—sell no more liquor, drink no more liquor, engage in some honest calling, and live soberly, righteously and godly the remainder of your days. By doing so, you will live better, die happier—you will know something of heaven in this world.”

Lectured in Miami, then crossed the Missouri river to Dewitt, where I spoke several times. A society was subsequently formed there, but the war broke it up. Held meetings in all the towns on both sides of the river to St. Joseph. In Kansas City lectured five times. This is destined to be a large place. It occupies a central position, and right in the way of trade and travel. It is on the bank of the Missouri river, and the Pacific railroad passes through the town. Other roads are contemplated, some or all of which will doubtless be built. It is also in the midst of one of the finest agricultural regions of the world.

Lectured in Wyandotte, Kansas. This town joins Kansas City, and like two drops, they will become one—commercially, at least. Its site is magnificent, the ground gradually ascending from the river, and ere long it will be a rich and populous place. An Episcopal minister asked me various questions concerning the doctrine every where spoken against.

“Do your people think Jesus Christ was a human being?”

“We think he was. He certainly possessed a human constitution and organization; was subject to hunger and thirst; was weary and cold, and was liable to the pains and agonies ‘flesh is heir to.’ He grew from childhood to youth, and thence to manhood. Hence the New Testament says, ‘For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feelings of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.’ Heb. iv. 15. ‘But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.’ Phil. ii. 7, 8. ‘And the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.’ John i. 14. He was a man, and would have died ultimately had he lived in an age of justice and toleration.”

“What was the object of his death?”

“I will answer in the language of the Bible. ‘For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.’ 1 Peter iii. 18. ‘For it became him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.’ Heb. ii. 10. ‘For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son.’ Rom. v. 10. Jesus came, not to appease God’s wrath, or to quench the fire of hell.

“’Twas not to quench eternal fire,

That Jesus came and spilt his blood,

Not to appease his Father’s ire,

But to reconcile the world to God.’

“His noble example in dying for man, has strengthened the martyr’s faith on many a scaffold, and when chained to many a fiery stake. And he died like them, a martyr to truth and righteousness. He taught love to God and man; he lived what he taught, and he died confirming his teaching and his life. That precept, that life, and that death, have been a power in the world for eighteen hundred years, and they will be a power in this world in all coming time.”

“But the Bible talks about man being saved by the blood, or death of Christ. Do you think there was no special efficacy in his blood and death?”

“We say that our fathers died to save us from the oppression of Great Britain. In the same sense Christ died to save us from the bondage of sin, and to cleanse us from all allegiance to despotism. Blood from any one’s veins can only cleanse in a figurative sense. It is the truth which Jesus taught that cleanseth the soul; and as his blood was shed in attestation of the truth, the Bible refers figuratively to that blood as the efficient cause of our deliverance and salvation. In this sense he ‘bore our sins and our iniquities,’ was ‘wounded for our transgressions,’ and ‘by his stripes we are healed.’”

“There are men in high places in our church who entertain similar views, but in my estimation, they are erroneous. I accept the creed of the church, that Jesus was God, and of all the sequences of that proposition.”

Proceeded to Leavenworth, where I delivered four discourses. This was then a small town, but is now a large city, and destined to be a very important one. We ought to have a minister at work there. A large congregation could soon be gathered. There are many influential families who would give such a man their hearty support. While here I heard the following conversation in an adjoining room at an hotel:

“Did you attend the Universalist meeting last night?”

“No; I have no faith in the creed of that church. What was the preacher’s text?”

“‘I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ,’ were the words. I must confess, I was much interested. It was the first Universalist sermon I ever heard, and I am inclined to think it was the first gospel sermon I ever heard. I have, all my life, heard about the abominations of Universalism, and I supposed it was a mass of corruption. But if that man last night preached Universalism, I don’t know but I must be a Universalist.”

“What did he say that took you so?”

“Among other things he said, salvation was not from hell, but from sin, from error, from mental darkness; that Jesus came not to save us from eternal burnings, but to make us good fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, children, neighbors, friends, citizens. There is good sense in that.”

“What did he say about the gospel?”

“That it is good news from God to man—that all sin, suffering and death will be ultimately abolished, and that God will be all in all. He said, that the meaning of the word gospel is good news, and that the whole system corresponds with the signification of the word.”

“Did he say anything about hell? Of course he did not, as there is no hell in his faith.”

“He did not say much on that subject, but gave notice that this evening he would give the Bible doctrine of hell, and you had better go and hear what he has to say. The Orthodox view of religion never satisfied me, and I am bound to look into this new faith.”

A society was organized at the close of one of the meetings, and this man united himself with it.

Spent two days in Weston, Mo., and preached twice. Agreeably to request, I delivered a discourse on the destruction of the enemies to God and man, and took for my text, “The last enemy, death, shall be destroyed.” 1 Cor. xv. I remarked, 1. Sin is an enemy to man, but that is to be destroyed. “Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.” “For this purpose was the Son of God manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil.” Sin, then, is to be destroyed. 2. The devil is to be destroyed. “Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that hath the power of death, that is, the devil.” Thus, the devil, and all his works, are to be destroyed. 3. Pain is an enemy to man, and that is to be destroyed. “There shall be no more pain, neither shall there be sorrow nor crying, for the former things are passed away.” How false is the doctrine of endless suffering, endless sorrowing, endless weeping. 4. Hell is an enemy; but the Scriptures teach, that it is to be destroyed. “O, hell, I will be thy destruction.” And an apostle asks the triumphant question, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, (hades or hell) where is thy victory?” 5. Death is also an enemy, and it is to be destroyed. We read, “He will swallow up death in victory, and the Lord God will wipe tears from all faces.” “There shall be no more death;” and the text asserts that, “The last enemy, death, shall be destroyed.” But how can death be destroyed if millions of mankind are to be eternally the victims of death? In the language of Dr. Adam Clarke, “Death is conquered, hell disappointed, the devil confounded, and sin totally destroyed. Amen! Hallelujah! The Lord God, omnipotent reigneth! He shall reign forever and ever!”

Notwithstanding this distinct and emphatic testimony, it is contended by many people, with the Bible in their hands, that sin, pain, death, hell, and the devil, will eternally prey on countless multitudes of our race; and if you intimate to them that those enemies to our peace and hope will be destroyed, they cry, delusion, imposture, infidelity. But I trust in God, and believe in the divine promise of the end of all evil, and the bringing in of “everlasting righteousness.”

I also lectured in St. Joseph three evenings. At the close of one of my meetings, a preacher remarked, “You have been talking about the mercy of God, but will not God’s wrath last as long as his mercy?” I replied, without stopping to inquire what is meant by the wrath or anger of God, the Bible emphatically declares that “His anger endureth for a moment, but his mercy from everlasting to everlasting.” Again, “He retaineth not his anger forever, because he delighteth in mercy.” “I will not contend forever, neither will I be always wroth.” Why not? “Because the spirit would fail before me, and the souls which I have made.” Can you give as good a reason why he will be always wroth, why he will contend forever, as he has why he will not? Pain tends to destroy the sufferer. Let a person endure intense agony, and if medical aid does not relieve him, death will soon step in and deliver the sufferer. This is a merciful provision of our heavenly Father, to prevent very protracted suffering. The passage just cited teaches, that God will not permit any one to suffer long because that suffering would end his existence. “The spirit would fail before me, and the souls I have made.” The soul could not endure endless wrath; it would fail, or cease to be. Jeremiah asks the question, “Will he reserve his anger forever? Will he keep it to the end?” Now observe the answer, “I am merciful saith the Lord, and will not keep anger forever.” Again it is said, “For his anger endureth for a moment, weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” The prophet Isaiah records, “In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord.” Again it is said, “The Lord will not cast off forever, but though he cause grief, yet he will have compassion according to the multitude of his tender mercies.” We read the following, “My mercy will keep forevermore.” “For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting.” In one Psalm it is twenty-six times asserted that “The mercy of the Lord endureth forever.” Hence it is said, “God is rich in mercy.” “Plenteous in mercy.” We also read of his mercy in the plural form. They are said to be “great,” “manifold,” and “over all his works.” The apostle Paul believed in God’s mercy, for he says, “For he hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have MERCY ON ALL!”

From all this precious testimony, I conclude that the “wrath of God,” let it mean what it may, will continue but a moment, while his mercy is as endless as his own existence. The mother may forget the son of her love, but God will never forget the souls he has made. God is merciful to us to-day, he will be to-morrow, and forever. No circumstance or place can turn his love into hatred, his goodness into cruelty. His mercy blesses us in this world, and it will bless us in the world to come. Death cannot change the great love God has for the soul.

Delivered a series of discourses in Kingston, on the following subjects:—“The Character of God”—“Man as he Is and is to Be”—“Rewards and Punishments”—“The Future Life”—“The Restitution.” Our faith was new to the people, as a discourse in its defense had not been before delivered in the county. A Baptist minister replied to one of the sermons; he had traveled ten miles to attend the meeting. He dwelt on the Rich Man and Lazarus. Denied it being a parable, and said it was a literal account of two men in this world, and world to come—one in heaven and the other in hell—and that their fate in eternity would be the fate of all mankind—part would ascend to heaven, and the balance would sink into the regions of eternal fire.

I replied as follows: If the gentleman is correct in asserting that the text is to be understood literally, the following are FACTS, concerning the Hereafter: 1. Hell is a place, not a state or condition, but a place; has a local habitation as well as a name; has length, width, depth and highth; in fact, is the penitentiary of the universe. Hell is called in the passage, “this place of torment.” 2. Hell is a fiery furnace. The rich man says, “I am tormented in these flames,” and begs for a drop of water to cool his tongue. 3. “This place of torment,” this region of fire, is within speaking distance of heaven. Abraham and the rich man had a talk on some interesting topics. Heaven and hell, then, are neighbors. They are located side by side; the division fence being a gulf. 4. If the fate of those two men is to be the fate of all mankind, the world is to be divided. Parents and children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, friends and neighbors, are to be eternally separated—part to be in heaven, and part in hell.

Now, I want to know if there could be any happiness in such a heaven. Could parents be happy seeing their children in hell, as Abraham saw the “rich man?” Could children be happy, beholding the mother who bore them, and the father who loved them, writhing in the liquid flames, the cursed of God, and the sport of devils? Could the wife behold the beloved partner of her life, suffering immortal agony in the fiery furnace, and rejoice and sing praise? I read a few days since a Presbyterian Sabbath School report, and the writer states, that “heaven will be made up of remnants of ruined families.” Nearly every family will be ruined—a remnant only will escape the dreadful wreck. To expect happiness in such a heaven, would be like expecting oranges to grow on icebergs. But if the gentleman is right in his interpretation of the passage before us, there is just such a heaven, and just such a hell; and about every family will be irredeemably ruined, and eternally divided. The nearest approach to such a shocking scene, is a band of naked and painted savages, laughing and dancing around the blazing stake, at which their victims are burning. There is your heaven, and your hell, on a small scale.

But to prevent the denizens of heaven becoming insane at such a frightful spectacle, it is said, their memory will be destroyed; they will not remember they ever had dear friends on earth. Yes, and they will have to have their eyes put out, for Abraham could see the rich man. They will also have to be as deaf as adders, else the cries, groans and lamentations of hell will ever be sounding in their ears. But it must be evident to every reflecting mind, that the text is not to be understood literally, but figuratively. It is doubtless a parable, a fable, and its moral is one of the most interesting and instructive lessons in the New Testament.

I have not room here for the interpretation I gave the passage; but the preacher, at the close, admitted that the view presented seemed reasonable, and was, perhaps, correct. A rum-seller here told me, that he had been through religion, and was satisfied it was all humbug. I told him that he would, perhaps, be improved if religion should go through him.

I also lectured several times in Chillicothe. My subjects were, “Sin”—“Death”—“Hell”—“Salvation.” One man remarked to me, after hearing the discourse on Sin,

“Jesus says, ‘If you die in your sins, where God and Christ are, ye cannot come.’”

“My friend, there is no such passage in the Bible.”

“Ah, but there is,” said he; “I have read it many a time.”

“But you are mistaken. The passage you quoted at, reads thus: ‘Then said Jesus again unto them, I go my way, and ye shall seek me, and ye shall die in your sins; whither I go ye cannot come.’ John viii. 21. You perceive the true reading is very different from your version. These words were addressed to the Jews. A short time afterwards he had occasion to address his disciples; and mark what he said to them. ‘Little children, yet a little while I am with you. Ye shall seek me; and as I said to the Jews, Whither I go ye cannot come, so say I unto you.’ John xiii. 33. Now, if Jesus when he told the Jews that they could not go to him, meant they should not inherit immortal blessedness, he must have meant the same when he addressed the disciples, for you perceive, he said precisely the same to them. But nothing of the kind was intended when he addressed friend or foe. He only meant in both cases, that they could not much longer follow him from place to place, as they had been in the habit of doing. He was about to depart from this world, and they would have to remain on earth.

“Many of the Jews did die in their sins, but it does not thence follow that they are condemned to sin forever. Because a man sins this year it does not follow he will sin all his life-time. God is not so in love with sin that he will compel a soul to sin eternally because this life was mis-spent. What would be thought of a farmer who compelled a man to cut down every tree in his orchard because he had cut down one tree? And will the God of wisdom and goodness, compel all to sin eternally who die sinners? If yea, then nearly all mankind will be forever lost, for nearly all die sinners in some degree. The law is, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, soul and strength, and thy neighbor as thyself.’ Now, who obeys that law? But few indeed, I fear. Nearly all mankind, then, will be forever lost if there is no redemption for those who die sinners.

“But the good Book teaches, that sin will not debase the soul always; but rather that there is to be ‘an end of sin.’ Dan. ix. Transferring all sin and all sinners to hell would not exactly be destroying sin nor converting sinners to God. It would simply be removing sin and sinners to another locality—that is all. Transporting all the drunkards from St. Louis to Chicago, would not be destroying intemperance. It would only be removing the curse from one place to another—nothing more. But when the Bible talks about sin being destroyed, making an end of sin, it means just what it says. It does not mean that it will not be destroyed, will not end its reign.”

From Chillicothe I journeyed to Dewitt. I well remember of traveling that road at another time. It was one of the hottest days of summer, and I rode on horseback, from early morn till late at night, in the blazing sun, without a particle of food. About mid-day, I called at a house to get a drink of water, and the good woman conducted me to the back porch where were two buckets of ice and water—one bucket for the white folks, and the other for the negroes, and told me to keep myself to the refreshing contents of the former. Never shall I forget that blessed bucket, and its thrice blessed treasure. I thought of the spring in the desert, gushing forth its cooling draught; of

“The old oaken bucket,

The moss covered bucket,

The iron bound bucket,

That hung in the well,”

And of Jesus resting, as I was resting, at the Samaritan well.

After traveling about one week more, I reached home after a long absence; having delivered seventy-five discourses, and rode some seven hundred miles—all on horseback.

CHAPTER XVII.

The Rebellion Commenced—What Senator Douglas Said—Defenders of our Country—Camp Jackson—Rebel Flag—Great Expectations—Subscribers Lost—Money Lost—All but Two of the Religious Journals Stopped—Could do but Little in Missouri—Society in St. Louis—G. S. Weaver Left—The Unitarian Society—Published Pamphlet on Water Baptism—Discussion with B. H. Smith—Extracts from the Discussion.

While sitting at the breakfast-table, at a boarding-house in St. Louis, on the morning of the 14th of April, 1861, it was announced through the morning paper, that the South Carolinians had fired on Fort Sumter. I remarked, “The rebels will rue that traitorous deed.” The landlady took fire, and with eyes darting vengeance, said, “We are Southrons.” “If you are Southrons you need not be rebels.” The whole city was wild with excitement. Americans had fired on their own flag, civil war was inaugurated; but how far it would extend, and what would be the result, were problems the wisest could not solve. Would the whole land be desolated? Would treason, with fire and sword, march through the length and breadth of the country, scattering death and destruction, where peace, harmony and happiness had so long prevailed? Was the sun of the Great Republic about to set, and set in blood, fire and desolation? Was our glorious Union about to be rent asunder by profane hands? Where would the division end? Would it be torn in two, twenty, or thirty parts? No wonder loyal men and women were excited and alarmed.

A day or two after the announcement of that insane act of South Carolina, I heard a man on Fourth street read a private dispatch he had just received from Senator Douglas at Washington, “Tell my friends they must sustain the government.” It made my heart leap for joy, and I exclaimed to a by-stander, “God bless Douglas.” “God d—— him,” said an enraged “Southron.” In a few days more, President Lincoln’s call for volunteers was published; and then the drum began to beat; and the farmers, mechanics, merchants, doctors, lawyers, preachers, all over the land, left their homes and enrolled themselves, “Defenders of our Country.” And many a prayer went up to heaven for their protection and success. When General Lyon, a few weeks after, marched five thousand loyal soldiers through the city and captured “Camp Jackson,” the union portion of the population were delighted, but the rebels were dismayed. For weeks a rebel flag had been hanging over a building on the corner of Pine and Fifth streets, the head-quarters of treason, and several leading papers in the city working to get Missouri out of the Union. These treason plotters, north and south, east and west, had great expectations. One of them said to me,

“We shall succeed. The South will sustain itself. The North will not fight. And having the mouth of the Mississippi river, the South will compel the Western States to join them; we shall have a strong and magnificent government, and the Eastern States may go to destruction for ought we care.”

I replied: “Three or four years of war will open your eyes, if you shall have any then to open, with regard to the North and the South. Do not delude yourself with the fancy, that the northern people will not fight for the right; you will find that they will fight, and as men hardly ever before did fight. It is true they greatly prefer the arts of peace; but when their country is in danger, the country for which their fathers bled and died, you will find that the spirit of ’76 is not degenerated. You do not know what you are about; you are insane. You are disturbing a lion, and by and by he will spring to his feet and crush you to death.”

But after the Camp Jackson affair, and the citizens were taught by several bloody lessons, to let the soldiers pass through the streets undisturbed, we had peace and safety in St. Louis. The rebel element was strong, but it was harmless amid a preponderance of loyalty, supported by an army of the “boys in blue.” But in Missouri, outside of St. Louis, with the exception of here and there a place where soldiers were stationed, there was but little peace, or safety.

I had nearly three thousand subscribers in Missouri, and the Southern States, when the war commenced, and I lost all the Southern, and nearly all the Missouri subscribers, by the mails being discontinued, and by the general confusion that reigned. My loss was, at least, five thousand dollars. Three religious periodicals—Methodist, Baptist and Presbyterian—were discontinued at the beginning of the strife. The former was suppressed by General Lyon, for its treasonable utterances. The Magazine and the Central Christian Advocate, were the only religious journals that survived the outbreak. The Magazine was pretty badly crippled, and but for the aid it received from the loyal states, it would have succumbed.

I traveled and preached but little in Missouri during the war. Most of the men were in the army, north or south; some left the state, and the few who remained did not think much about religion. The society in St. Louis went to the shades. Mr. Weaver left the year before the war, and located in Lawrence, Mass., where he has been remarkably successful. He is a noble man, and an excellent pastor and preacher. Before a successor to him could be obtained, the war broke out, and that killed the society. Our cause was always feeble in St. Louis. The Unitarian society was old, numerous, well established, and rich; but instead of aiding us by its sympathy and co-operation, it stood off as cold as an iceberg. I hear much of the love Unitarians bear for us, but have never seen much evidence of their love. They doubtless would like to have Unitarians and Universalists unite, but it must be like the marriage of man and woman, according to Blackstone, the twain must be one, and that one, Unitarian. We are fine fellows if we will allow ourselves to be swallowed, head and heels, without kicking.

About this time, I published a pamphlet entitled “Seventy-two Reasons why Salvation is not by Water Baptism.” The Reformers, or Campbellites, a numerous and growing sect in the West and South, contend, as is well known, that immersion in water is a condition of salvation. This pamphlet is designed to refute that strange notion. The following is the twenty-eighth “Reason”:

“Then said Peter unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins; and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.” Acts ii. 38.

If “baptized” here refers to water baptism, it is the only place in the New Testament where it is connected with “remission of sin.” And shall all that Christ and his apostles have said about sin being removed by grace, hope, faith, repentance, be set aside, because in one instance baptism and remission of sins are mentioned in connection with each other? But even in this passage Peter tells his hearers to repent “for the remission of sins,” and there is common sense in that exhortation. Repentance means to reform, to cease doing evil and learn to do well, and when that is done, of course, our sins are remitted. If a drunkard repents, reforms, the sin of intemperance is remitted, and so of all other sins—when we abandon them, they abandon us. If we resist the devil he will flee from us. That is what forgiveness, pardon, and remission of sin means. And that is what Peter means in the above words, as is evident from his address to the people in Acts iii. 19. “Repent ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.” Here baptism is left out, clearly showing that the author, in the other place, did not mean that water puts away sin. The same is taught by Jesus. “And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.” Luke xxiv. 47. Nothing about water. The apostle Paul teaches the same truth. “Whom God hath sent forth to be a propitiation through FAITH in his blood, to declare his righteousness, for the REMISSION OF SINS.” Rom. iii. 25. Here again baptism has no credit for remitting sin; it is done through faith. Again this apostle says, “This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law into their hearts, and in their minds I will write them: and their sins and iniquities will I remember no more. Now where REMISSION of these is, there is no more offering for sin.” Heb. x. 16, 17, 18. Of course, when the law of God reigns supreme in men’s hearts, their sins are remitted, whether they have been baptized or not. It is the law of love that banishes sin, not water baptism. It is evident from the above testimony, that water baptism has nothing to do in putting away sin, and that the Reformers have departed far from the truth in their notions about the saving influence of water baptism.

And here is another error they commit. They are forever telling us that the kingdom of God was set up on “the day of Pentecost.” Their notion runs about thus—Jesus Christ set up his kingdom on “the day of Pentecost.” The key thereof being given to Peter, he unlocked it on that occasion, and commenced baptizing men and women into the kingdom. Baptism is the door. Not a living man, woman, or child was inside the door when Peter opened it. On this theological curiosity we have a few words to offer. 1. We have not a particle of evidence that the kingdom of God was set up on that occasion. Peter, who was the sole speaker, said not one word about the kingdom of God, not one word about its keys, not one word about unlocking it, not one word about baptism being the door into the kingdom, not one word about immersing anybody into it. If the august kingdom of the living God was really set up, opened, dedicated, and Jesus commenced his reign on “the day of Pentecost,” it is very remarkable that there is not one word said about any of these important matters by the great apostle. Our Reformers draw largely on their imagination for their facts when they expatiate about Pentecost. 2. Water baptism is the door into the kingdom, is it? The kingdom, then, which is purely a spiritual institution, has a material door! What an idea! And it was reserved for the nineteenth century to make that wonderful discovery. 3. If our friends are right in their curious notions, we should like to be informed how the first one got into the kingdom. When Peter opened it not a soul was inside, and no one could get in without being baptized. Now, we should like to have one of their wise men tell us how the first one got inside. Did Peter baptize him in? But Peter was an “outsider.” And will our friends pretend that one out of the kingdom could lawfully initiate one into it? This, though, must have been done, or some one must have slipped inside without immersion, and then went to work in good earnest putting others through the watery door into the spiritual kingdom. 4. If our friends are right, not one of the twelve apostles entered the kingdom of God, for they were not baptized before, at, or after Pentecost. Not even Mathias, who was chosen after the resurrection of Christ, was baptized. They did not enter through this singular door. How then can they be saved?

Soon after this pamphlet appeared, I made arrangements with B. H. Smith, pastor of the Reformers’ church in St. Louis, to have a discussion in the Magazine on the efficacy of water baptism. He proposed affirming that “Water Baptism is a Condition of Salvation.” He was to write twelve letters. He wrote seven and then laid aside his pen, and I could never induce him to write any more. The following is part of my reply to his first letter:

You advocate a proposition that consigns nearly all mankind to hopeless ruin. You affirm that water baptism is a condition of salvation, and consequently that there is not, and cannot be, any salvation without immersion in water. Your brethren, generally, adopt the same theory. Rev. Alexander Campbell, well known to be a prominent man in your fraternity, distinctly avows your position. Speaking of the “act of faith” which he declares to be immersion in water, he says, “Whatever the act of faith may be, it necessarily becomes the line of demarkation between the two states before described. On this side, and on the other side, mankind are in quite different states. On one side they are pardoned, justified, sanctified, reconciled, adopted and saved: and on the other, they are in a state of condemnation. This act is sometimes called immersion, regeneration, conversion.” (Christian System, page 193.) This “act of faith,” you see, is immersion in water, and is called “regeneration,” and “conversion.” On one side, that is, all who are immersed, are “saved, pardoned, justified, sanctified, reconciled, adopted,” but those on the other side, that is, not immersed in water, are condemned, lost, unpardoned, unsanctified, etc. In one word, immersion is the line between heaven and hell, between the saved and the damned, between those God loves and those he hates. On page 197, he says that “Immersion is inseparably connected with the remission of sins,”—“no person was said to be converted until he was immersed; and all persons who were immersed, were said to be converted.” The same saving power is attached to immersion all through Mr. Campbell’s book. But, sir, reason, common sense, common justice, and every thing else that even squints toward the true and right, condemn such a theory. But as you appeal to the New Testament to sustain your proposition, I trust I can show you misunderstand its letter and spirit.

Your doctrine of the purifying power of water baptism, is rank Heathenism. The Pagans, publicly and privately, used lustral water, which they thought had the virtue of purifying the soul, and of remitting the punishment of sins. “The Indians,” writes father Jesuit Bonchet, a missionary to India, “say that in bathing—that is, immersing—in certain rivers, sins are entirely remitted; and that their mysterious waters, wash not only the bodies, but also purify the souls in an admirable manner.” This testimony, Chateaubriand adds, is confirmed by the “Memoirs of the English Society of Calcutta.” The waters of the Ganges are supposed by the Hindoos, to purify those who are immersed in them. This sounds very much like your proposition. The Catholics, like yourself, have incorporated this item of Heathenism into their faith. Their General Catechism treats on baptism thus:

Q. What is baptism?

A. A sacrament which cleanses from original sin, makes us christians and children of God; and heirs to the kingdom of heaven.

Q. Does baptism also remit the actual sins committed before it?

A. Yes; and all the punishment due them.

Q. Is baptism necessary to salvation?

A. Yes; without it, we cannot enter the kingdom of God.

You agree exactly with the Romish Church. Both you and that church contend, that baptism cleanses the soul, makes us christians, children of God, heirs of heaven. You say, that “baptism is a condition of salvation,” and the Pope says, “baptism is necessary to salvation.” The Pagans call the baptismal water, “lustral water;” the Catholics, “holy water,” and your people, “regenerating water.” Mr. Campbell says, “No one acquainted with Peter’s style, will think it strange that Paul represents as saved, cleansed, or sanctified by water—may not he then call that water, of which a person is born again, the water, or bath of regeneration.” (Christian System, page 265.) You will observe that you, the Catholics and Pagans, are beautifully harmonious concerning the saving power of water.

The savages of the West, appear to be strictly Orthodox in their notions concerning the regenerating influence of water. In the early settlement of the West, two whites were captured by a band of Indians; and when on the bank of the Ohio, they were led into the river and immersed by their savage captors. The chief then informed his prisoners, that this immersion had changed their characters—that they were no longer pale faces, but Indians, and were members of the tribe. We smile at the red man’s absurdity, but let us be careful and not be equally absurd. This is the first account we have of a western stream being deemed a “bath of regeneration;” but since then another people have christened all the rivers, creeks and ponds in the West, “baths of regenerations.”

In the course of the correspondence, I offered the following objections to his theory:

1. “Ye are the children of the prophets, and of the covenant which God made with our fathers, saying unto Abraham, and in thy seed shall all the kindreds of the earth be blessed. Unto you first, God having raised up his Son, Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning every one of you from his iniquities.” Acts iii. 25, 26. This is from Peter’s sermon, delivered on Solomon’s porch, and from which you have quoted in your argument. Your position is, that salvation is only for those who are immersed, and as but a very small part of mankind are immersed, but a small part of mankind will be blessed with salvation. But the above passage promises blessedness to “all the kindreds of the earth,” and we are informed what that blessing is—“Turning away every one of you from his iniquities.” That is the blessing, and it is promised to all mankind. Mr. Campbell, in the book from which I have before quoted, page 135, admits the universality of the promise, and says that the “blessing is spiritual and eternal.” How he or you can restrict salvation to the few who are immersed, with this passage before your eyes, and this admission, is a mystery.

2. If you are correct, but a small portion of mankind will be saved—only those who are immersed in water. Every child, dying in childhood, every idiot, every Jew, every Mohammedan, every Pagan, every Catholic, every Episcopalian, every Methodist, every Presbyterian, must go to hell, if you are right. You deny salvation to every body who is not baptized. If you are correct, hell will be crowded, and heaven almost empty. My God! what a theory!

3. According to your proposition, a person may spend three score years and ten in crime of the blackest dye; may trample under foot the laws of both God and man, and receive little or no punishment in this world; and by being immersed the last hour of his wicked life, his sins are all washed away, and he occupy as high a seat in heaven as St. John or St. Paul. Now, the Bible teaches that every transgression and disobedience shall receive a just recompense of reward. (Heb. ii. 2.) “He that doeth wrong shall receive for the wrong which he hath done; and there is no respect of persons.” Col. iii. 25. Your theory makes a “respect of persons;” it says that the immersed “shall NOT receive for the wrong which they have done,” but that wrath and vengeance will be meted out forever and ever on the unimmersed. “For the Son of man shall come in the glory of the Father with his angels; and then shall he reward every man according to his works.” Matt. xvi. 27. Mr. Smith affirms, that heaven will render to the unimmersed “according to their works,” but the immersed will be saved from the just punishment of their sins. “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether good or bad.” 2 Cor. v. 10. Mr. Smith denies that God will punish the immersed for the wicked deeds they have done. In fact, his theory asserts that God will not punish them at all, but saves them from the penalty of their sins. This, also, is a very serious objection to your proposition, and I hope it will receive from you something besides a laugh.

4. A wretch murders in cold blood a thousand unbaptized, good men, and, according to your proposition, not one of them can be saved—they die unwashed of their sins and must be lost. As soon as he has killed their bodies, and sent their souls to hell, he attends Mr. Smith’s meetings, on Olive street, listens to one of his excellent exhortations to come forward and be immersed into the fold of God. He gives you his bloody hand, makes the good confession, and is immersed at the levee—the very spot where he murdered the men, and some of their dead bodies are still at his feet. His sins are all forgiven, his soul is pure, and he is an heir of heaven. But in going back to the sanctuary, he stumbles over one of the dead bodies of his victims, falls to the ground and breaks his neck. He complied with the “conditions of salvation,” and his sanctified soul is wafted right to heaven. But the thousand victims of his wickedness, not having been immersed, although they were righteous men, are lost forever. According to Mr. Smith’s theory, just such a series of events may occur. One man may kill a thousand men; their souls may all go to hell; and the murderer, by faith and immersion, may be saved from all the consequences of deeds that have sent thousands to perdition. The murdered in hell, and the murderer in heaven. The outrage and injustice of this is a formidable objection to your proposition. Admit this is an extreme case; but I want to know how you will dispose of it?

[A case much like this occurred in St. Louis soon after this was written. A condemned murderer “believed,” and was marched from his cell to the Olive Street church, and was there immersed, and then marched to the gallows, via the prison, and if Mr. Smith is right, thence to heaven, while his victim likely was sent to hell.]

5. One sin may ruin a soul forever without immersion, but a million sins are harmless if followed by immersion. To illustrate: a man commits one sin, and dies without being immersed. You say, he cannot be saved, for immersion is a condition of salvation. Another commits a million of sins, and is immersed immediately after committing the last one, and, having complied with the conditions of salvation, he is saved. Can you see any equity in this? Even if it is possible for a child, dying ere it attains the age of accountability to be saved, suppose it lives to commit one sin, and dies without being immersed, according to Mr. Smith, it cannot be saved. It sinned once and died without immersion, died with that sin unforgiven, and consequently it cannot be saved.

6. A serious objection to Mr. Smith’s view of baptism, is its arbitrary character. There is naturally no power in water, or immersion in water, to cleanse the soul; and making its salvation depend on the body being dipped in water, sets aside all natural and spiritual laws. All God’s commands, in the New Testament, are based in sound philosophy, and are in perfect harmony with all nature; nothing is arbitrary; all is natural and philosophical. But the doctrine of salvation by immersing the body in water, is in direct variance with God’s method of government, and therefore must be false.

7. If Mr. Smith is right, a wonderful miracle is wrought whenever he or his brethren immerse a man or woman in water. Mr. Campbell says, “I am bold to affirm that every one of them who, in the belief of which the apostle spoke, was immersed did, in the very instant in which he was put under the water, receive the forgiveness of his sins.” (Christian Baptist, pages 416, 417.) The believer is cursed with all his sins, exposed to the wrath of God and the flames of hell, till the very instant he is put under water. When under the water his sins are all forgiven, his soul is purified, his nature is changed, God becomes his friend, and the door of heaven is opened to him. All this takes place during the brief time he is under the water. What a miracle! There is nothing in the catalogue of miracles equal to it. And then such wonderful miracles are being wrought day and night in every stream and pond in the land. If there is any truth in this theory, Mr. Smith has performed far more miracles than Jesus Christ ever did. His brethren often laugh at the Methodists, for their notions about the operations of the spirit, and tell them they suppose a miracle is wrought, whenever a soul is converted; but Mr. Smith and his friends believe in greater wonders than the Methodists do, and those too that are not half as reasonable and philosophical.

8. This theory suspends salvation on the will and act of another man. To illustrate: Mr. Smith convinces one of his hearers of the truth of the gospel, and he makes application to be immersed that his sins may be pardoned. Mr. Smith does not doubt his faith, but refuses to immerse him—has an old grudge against him—and the man dies the next day, dies unforgiven, and enters into the presence of his God with all his sins on his soul. Now, Mr. Smith, by not doing his duty, has sent that man to hell. It may be said, that Mr. Smith will be sent there too for this sin of omission; but that would not help the poor man who went there before him. If this doctrine is correct, thousands may be lost by others refusing to immerse them. Again: a son or a daughter becomes a penitent believer, and desires to be immersed, but the father forbids it, and the youth dies unimmersed, and consequently goes to perdition. It may be replied, that God does not require impossibilities, and in those cases he will take the will for the deed. But Mr. Smith affirms, there is no salvation without baptism. If Mr. Smith is right, all such unfortunate persons are lost.

9. This system enjoins an impossibility, and then damns a man for not performing it. On the desert a man becomes a penitent believer, but dies ere he can reach water in which to be immersed. A traveler in the arctic regions makes the good confession, but freezes to death before he can melt water enough to be dipped in. All such souls are lost, for Mr. Smith and Mr. Campbell tell us, there is no salvation on the desert, nor in the polar regions, without immersion. And this is called the glorious gospel of the blessed God! A solitary traveler in an uninhabited region, exclaims from the heart, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God,” and wills to be immersed; but he is in a bad fix. There is no one within an hundred miles to immerse him, and he cannot immerse himself. He makes a desperate effort to find somebody to immerse him, as the salvation of his soul depends on his success. But his effort is fruitless, his exertion brings on a fever, and he dies alone on the desert. According to Mr. Smith, he goes into the other world a sinner, and as there is no water there to be immersed in, he must be immersed in hell-fire, not for a moment, but for all eternity.

10. It encourages superstition by attaching an extravagant importance to immersion. It elevates an ordinance far above every Christian virtue; above faith, hope, charity, love. In fact, it makes almost a god of water baptism.

11. Mr. Smith’s superstitious notions of baptism lead directly to infant baptism—are the father and mother of infant baptism. Speaking of the origin of infant baptism, the learned historian and critic, Salmasins, says, “An opinion prevailed that no one could be saved without being baptized, and for that reason the custom arose of baptizing infants.” Professor Hahn testifies to the same: “Infant baptism arose from false views of original sin, and of the magical power of consecrated water.” (Prof. Hahn’s Theology, page 556.) Another noted critic says: “The immediate occasion of infant baptism it cannot be denied was its extravagant ideas of its necessity to salvation.” (Dressler’s Doctrine of the Sacrament of Baptism.)

It is evident, then, that Mr. Smith’s idea of water baptism is the legitimate parent of infant baptism; and it is a mystery to me that he and his brethren do not baptize infants to save their souls. According to Mr. Campbell they need salvation. Hear him: “Our nature was corrupted by the fall of Adam before it was transmitted to us; and hence the hereditary imbecility to do good, and that proneness to do evil, so universally apparent in all human beings. All inherit a fallen, consequently a sinful nature.” (Christian System, pages 28, 29.) Now, as there is no salvation without baptism, why not baptize infants? Will it not save little sinners as well as large ones? It would not astonish me to learn that Mr. Smith is immersing infants. I wonder he has not been doing it these many years.

12. According to my friend’s theology, a man may be full of faith, and love, and good works, but if he has not been immersed in water he is in a lost and ruined condition, and on the broad road to everlasting destruction. His faith, and love, and good works, avail nothing without immersion. Stating such a proposition in simple language is enough to condemn it.

13. This theory is worse than infidelity. Thomas Paine, the noted infidel, says, “I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavoring to make our fellow creatures happy.” (Age of Reason, page 6.) According to the theory in question, our Creator has no respect for these religious duties, unless we are immersed in water. He will neither bless us with salvation in time or eternity, if we religiously perform all these duties, unless we are immersed. With all due respect to my friend, I must say, that of the two systems, Paine’s is the best, as far, at least, as religious duties are concerned. My correspondent will doubtless reply, that he believes in the duties Paine names, and urges his fellow men to observe them. No doubt of it; but then he spoils his faith and exhortation, by telling his hearers, that the observing of them will avail nothing in the way of salvation without immersion in water.

14. This theory is worse than Calvinism. With all its cruelty and savagism, it does not make our salvation depend on immersion in water, whether there is any water to be immersed in or not, whether our health will admit of immersion or not; whether we can find one qualified to immerse or not, and whether if we find such an one he will accommodate us or not.

15. We have not a particle of evidence that one of the twelve disciples of our Lord was immersed. Matthew, one of the number, thus records the call and acceptance of several of that chosen band. “And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon and Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And he said unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they straightway left their nets and followed him. And going on from thence he saw two other brethren, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in a ship with Zebedee their father, mending their nets; and he called them. And they immediately left the ship and their father, and followed him.” Matt. iv. 18-22. In the tenth chapter we are informed of the other disciples being called. There is not the slightest intimation in the New Testament that one of the disciples was immersed when they were chosen by the Master, or at any subsequent time.

16. My friend maintains, that immersion is the door to discipleship, to the kingdom, to salvation, pardon, heaven. If he is right, is it not remarkable that there is not a particle of evidence, that one of our Lord’s disciples entered that door? When some of them were called, they were on the shore of the sea, but not a word is recorded of their being immersed to prepare them for their mission. Never afterward did they speak or write of being immersed, nor did any others refer to it. The unavoidable inference is, that they were not baptized in water, and so according to Mr. Smith, their sins were never forgiven, they were not saved, never members of the kingdom of God. But let Mr. Smith and his friends ponder well the fact, that men in those days could be disciples of Jesus without immersion. Why not now?

17. This theory is immoral in its influence, as it affirms that the unimmersed are under no obligation to do any thing which implies spiritual life. The following are Mr. Campbell’s remarkable words: “No prayers, songs of praise, no acts of devotion in the new economy, are enjoined on the unbaptized.” (Christian Baptist, page 439.) If Mr. Campbell is right, it is a great sin for any one who has not been immersed in water to perform any of these acts. Ministers, then, of all denominations, except immersionists and their congregations, spend each returning Sabbath, not in serving God, but in open rebellion against him. Christians, all over the world, morning, noon and evening, in offering their prayers to God, and singing his praise, are guilty of heinous sins. They do what they have no right to do. Their prayers, their songs, and all their devotions, are so many sins against heaven, and for which, by and by, they will be turned into hell. Such teachings can have no other than an immoral influence.

18. On page 204, of “Christian System,” Mr. Campbell has the following curious remark: “And we know so much of human nature as to say, that he that imagines himself pardoned, will feel as happy as he that really is so.” This is in reply to an objection, that according to his theory, no one can be saved, pardoned, without immersion in water. His reply is, that there is no evidence such can be saved; but they can imagine themselves saved, pardoned; can fool themselves into the idea that they are pardoned, yet full of sin all the time, and will be just as happy as they would be if their sins were all forgiven, and their souls pure as the angels. Where he got his mental philosophy I know not, but surely not from the Bible. According to this wisdom, a man, drunk and wallowing in the gutter, if he imagines himself a sober man and virtuous citizen, “will feel as happy as he that really is so.” Or a murderer, with innocent blood on his hands, and murder in his heart, if he only imagines he is innocent, “will feel as happy as he that really is so.” All such absurd notions proceed from the position of my friend, that there is no salvation, no forgiveness, without immersion in water.

19. The Scriptures teach that all sin is to be forgiven. “All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men.” “Every plant which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up.” The angel told Joseph, “Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.” Matt. i. 21. John, the forerunner of Jesus, pointed to him and said, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.” John i. 29. Many more passages might be cited, showing that all sin is to be forgiven, abolished, taken away, made an end of. Now, my friend’s theory is, that no sin can be forgiven without the aid of water baptism. But only a small portion of mankind are immersed, and therefore, if he is right, all those scriptures which teach the extinction of sin, are so many mistakes. If all sin is to be forgiven, Mr. Smith is mistaken.

20. “And we have seen, and do testify, that the Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world.” 1 John iv. 14. The men of Samaria, after hearing Jesus speak of his mission, went away and said, “We have heard him ourselves and know that this is the Christ, the Savior of the world.” John iv. 42. If Christ was sent by the Father to save the world, and if he saves only the few who are immersed in water, instead of saving the world, he will save but a very small part of it; instead of doing his Father’s business, he will leave most of it undone. How can you reconcile these precious promises with your very partial salvation?

21. “Now is the judgment of this world; now shall the prince of this world be cast out, and I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw ALL MEN to me.” John xii. 31, 32. According to my friend, we can go to Christ only through immersion, and as but a small part of all men are immersed, the conclusion is, that only a small part of mankind can go to Christ. But this conclusion from Mr. Smith’s premises contradicts the Savior. Jesus says, he will draw all men to him. It is clear that my friend’s theory contradicts the letter and spirit of the New Testament.

22. “As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” 1 Cor. xv. 22. When Jesus shall have made an end of sin, saved the world, drawn all men to him, then will all who die in Adam be in Christ. But Mr. Smith contends that no one can get into Christ, save by immersion. That is a fundamental point with him; but as ultimately all men are to be in Christ, he must be mistaken. Try, my friend, to reconcile your faith with that glorious passage. Nearly all mankind die without being water-immersed into Christ. All children, idiots, Jews, Pagans, Catholics, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans, Friend Quakers, Unitarians, Universalists, and hosts of other Christians, live and die without being immersed into Christ, and it follows from your proposition, they never can be in Christ; never can be saved from their sins. None of these, you assert, have their sins forgiven in this world. Pray, tell what will become of us all? You have evaded this question long enough. I have urged you to let us sinners know what is to be our fate beyond the grave. We know what is the condition of all these classes in this world, according to Mr. Smith’s theory—they are all sinners, all condemned, all out of Christ, all out of the kingdom, children of the devil, without God and without hope in the world. Now, it surely is not impertinent to insist that Mr. Smith tell us, plainly and without equivocation, what is to be the doom of these countless millions beyond the grave. I charge his system with involving the endless sinfulness and wretchedness of all these multitudes of Adam’s race. If I am mistaken, let him show wherein I am. Let us have no more of this dodging. It looks bad, very bad, on the part of my friend, to evade this point as he has done.

23. The apostle Paul writes, “Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel.” 1 Cor. i. 17. This is surely a remarkable declaration, if water baptism is a soul-saving institution. If he had believed that water baptism is a condition of salvation, would he have said he was not sent to baptize? According to Mr. Smith’s understanding, where Paul speaks about “obeying the gospel,” he means baptism. If Mr. Smith is right, Paul was not sent to induce men to obey the gospel. Again: Paul labored for the conversion of souls, and Mr. Smith says, conversion is baptism. Then the apostle was not sent to be instrumental in converting men. If the gentleman is correct, the great apostle was not sent to labor for men’s salvation, or their conversion, or to induce them to obey the gospel. This all follows, if water baptism is a condition of salvation, for Paul declares, that he was not sent to baptize; that is, was not sent to do the very thing that must be done to insure salvation. This declaration of the apostle, that he was not sent to baptize, is a perfect refutation of Mr. Smith’s proposition, that water baptism is a condition of salvation.

24. In looking over Mr. Campbell’s “Christian System,” page 60, I find the following wonderous things, said to be consummated by dipping a man or woman in water: “The change which is consummated by immersion, is sometimes called in sacred style, ‘being quickened,’ ‘made alive,’ ‘passed from death to life,’ ‘being born again,’ ‘having risen with Christ,’ ‘turning to the Lord,’ ‘being enlightened,’ ‘conversion,’ ‘reconciliation,’ ‘repentance unto life.’” In another place, he asserts the subject comes out of the water as “pure as an angel.” But mark, no one can be thus purified, quickened, made alive, etc., without water baptism, and yet, St. Paul says, he was not sent to baptize. If that apostle believed in baptism, as Mr. Smith does, would he have made that remark?

25. Mr. Campbell again says, “Baptism is designed to introduce the subjects of it into the participation of the blessings of the death and resurrection of Christ.” “To the believing penitent, it is the means of receiving a formal, distinct, and specific absolution, or release from guilt.” (page 58.) Baptism is THE MEANS by which God designs to confer all these immortal and heavenly blessings on men, and yet one of his greatest apostles declares, he was not sent to baptize; that is, was not sent to use the means by which alone men can participate in these blessings.

26. Hear Mr. Campbell again: “The converts made to Christ, by the apostles, were taught to consider themselves pardoned, justified, sanctified, reconciled, adopted, saved.” (page 187.) He then devotes several pages to show that the immersed only are in this condition, or state. Only those who submit to the act, as he terms it, of immersion, are in this new and changed condition, and yet the chief of the apostles tells the world, he was not sent to baptize; that is, was not sent to do the act which alone can put men into a saved state or condition.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Discussion in Pontiac—The Apostle’s Faith—His Argument in Romans—Extensive Traveling—In Kansas and Missouri—Price’s Raid—In Ohio and Indiana—Dark Night and Walk in Toledo—Conversation on Destructionism—The Victory—The Death—President Lincoln—Debate in Milford, Ohio—The Restitution an old Doctrine—The Sentiment Wide Spread—At Work in Iowa—Laborers There—Murderers Saved and the Murdered Lost—Intellectual and Moral Growth—What Man Was—What He is to Be—The Victory—Spiritualism—Immoral Preaching—Saved Without Repentance—Preaching a Means of Salvation—A Methodist Minister Believes—The Suicide.

In the spring of 1861, I resolved to move to Chicago, and publish the Magazine, in that city. The war was still raging, and I was apprehensive it would linger several years longer. I could do nothing in Missouri, and most of my subscribers were nearer Chicago than St. Louis. Accordingly, in May of said year, we bid adieu to the city which had been our home for many years, and took up our abode in the “Garden City” of the West. I had been there but once since 1840, and what a change had taken place! Its population at the present time, is about two hundred thousand, but in 1840 it did not number more than six thousand inhabitants. And it will doubtless continue to make rapid strides in its onward march. Its lake navigation almost connecting it with the Atlantic ocean; its railroads extending in all directions through the most productive agricultural region of the world, must concentrate immense wealth and business in Chicago.

Our denomination has two church edifices in Chicago, and two large societies. Dr. W. H. Ryder is pastor of the first society, and T. E. St. John of the second. Till recently, J. H. Tuttle had charge of the second society. There is also a denominational paper there—The New Covenant—published by D. P. Livermore. It has, I understand, an extensive circulation.

There are far more of the liberal faith in this northern region than as far south as St. Louis. A large portion of the people are from the Eastern States, and they brought with them rational views of the Bible and religion. We have meeting-houses and societies all over this northern section, also ministers at work instructing the people, and uniting and concentrating their efforts.

Soon after moving to Chicago, I had an oral discussion in Pontiac, Ill., with Elder Brooks, on Endless Misery and Universal Salvation. In one of my speeches, I remarked:

The apostle Paul was certainly a believer in the salvation of all men. Some of his statements of this doctrine are remarkably lucid, comprehensive, and weighty. Take, for instance, the fifth chapter to the Romans.

1. In the eighteenth verse he says: “Therefore, as by the offence of one, judgment came upon all men to condemnation; even so, by the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life.” What is this “free gift” to all men? Answer: “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life.” Rom. vi. 23. Eternal life, then, is given, made sure, to all men. Not to one here and there; to this sect or that sect; this nation or that nation; but to ALL MEN. Let this be remembered.

2. In the next verse of said chapter, he continues: “For as by one man’s disobedience, many were made sinners; so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.” By “many” here he means the same as by “all men,” in the preceding verse, the terms being varied to avoid tautology. Parkhurst, in his Greek Lexicon says, “The word many in this verse, signifies the many; that is, the mass, the multitude; the whole bulk of mankind.” Dr. Macknight, a Presbyterian critic, writes, “For as the word many in the first part of the verse, does not mean some part of mankind only, but all mankind, from first to last, who without exception are constituted sinners; so the many, in the latter part of the verse, who are said to be constituted righteous through the obedience of Christ, must mean all mankind, from the beginning to the end of the world, without exception.” The statement of the apostle is this—all mankind are sinners, and all mankind shall be righteous. Can universal salvation be expressed in clearer terms?

3. He continues his argument: “Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound; and as sin hath reigned unto death, even so, might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord.” Verses 20, 21. Sin abounds universally, but grace is much more to abound. The grace of God is not only to banish sin from every soul, but to bless every soul forever and ever. But how can grace abound more than sin, if millions of mankind are to be victims of sin eternally? Will the grace of God, resulting in eternal life, abound in such souls? A valuable building is on fire; the fire abounds in every part from base to attic. The engines rush to the spot and pour water all over the building, and extinguish the devouring flames. In this case where fire abounded, water much more abounds. But if the water failed to extinguish the fire in one half of the building, would water have abounded more than fire? So, if the grace of God puts out the fires of sin in only half of the universe, will grace abound more than sin? How is that, Elder Brooks?

4. The whole creation to be delivered. “For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope; because the creature itself shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.” Rom. viii. 20, 21. The word, “creature,” here means mankind; the Greek whence it is taken, is rendered “creation” in the twenty-second verse. The words, “every creature,” in the commission of Christ to his apostles, are from the same term. “Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.” Mark xvi. 15. Dr. Macknight and other good critics tell us, that the word rendered, creature, signifies, “every human creature; ALL MANKIND.” Dr. Thomas White, an English divine of the Episcopal Church, translates the text thus: “For THE CREATION was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected it; in hope that THE CREATION ITSELF also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption, into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.” Mankind, then, are to be delivered from corruption—from moral and physical corruption—into the glorious liberty of the children of God. The apostle says, this universal deliverance SHALL be effected, and I believe him.

5. God will have mercy on all. “For I would not, brethren, that ye should be ignorant of this mystery, lest ye should be wise in your own conceits; that blindness in part is happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gentiles be come in. And so all Israel shall be saved; as it is written, There shall come out Sion the Deliverer, and shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob: for this is my covenant unto them, when I shall take away their sins. As concerning the gospel, they are enemies for your sakes: but as touching the election, they are beloved for the fathers’ sakes. For the gifts and calling of God are without repentance. For as ye in times past have not believed God, yet have now obtained mercy through their unbelief: even so have these also now not believed, that through your mercy they also may obtain mercy. For God hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all. O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out? For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor? Or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again? For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things; to whom be glory for ever. Amen.” Rom. xi. 25-36. Jews and Gentiles include all mankind. The apostles tell us, that the blindness of the Jews is to continue “Till the fulness of the Gentiles be come in,” and then “All Israel shall be saved.” “For God hath concluded them all—Israelites and Gentiles—in unbelief that he might have mercy on all.” And then he adds, “For of him, and through him, and to him are all things, to whom be glory forever. Amen.” No terms can express more forcibly the proposition I affirm on this occasion.

In the next verse, the apostle adds, “I beseech you therefore by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable duty.” In the previous part of his letter to the Romans, as I have shown, he writes of the mercies of God for mankind. 1. “The free gift came upon all men unto justification of life.” 2. “Many,” that is, the mass, all mankind, “shall be made righteous.” 3. “Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound.” 4. The whole creation shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption. 5. God will bring all the Gentiles, and all the Jews, into the kingdom; will “HAVE MERCY ON ALL; for of him and through him, and to him are ALL THINGS.” His next words are, “I beseech you therefore by the MERCIES of God,” etc. It is sometimes said by the opposers of Universal Grace, that it has an immoral influence. But the great apostle beseeches men in consideration of its truth, to live holy, godly lives. He does not say, as some have profanely said, “If God’s mercy will save the world, we have nothing to do; let us then eat, drink and be merry; lie, steal, and murder. It is all right; God will save us any how.” Let every believer in the universal mercy of God aim to live a life “holy and acceptable to God,” which is his reasonable duty.

These are the statements of the apostle to the Gentiles concerning the extent of salvation; and I, and no other one, can employ language expressing more clearly the Universalist faith. That gifted man was certainly a believer in the “Restitution of all things.”

Since I have been in Chicago, I have traveled and lectured on nearly all the railroads running out of the city; have labored not only in Illinois, but in Indiana, Ohio, Iowa, Missouri and Kansas. I was at work in Kansas and Missouri when Price made his late raid into the latter state. That was in the fall of 1864. Was in Leavenworth when the state militia were called out to resist the invaders. The people of Kansas expected no mercy at their hands should they enter the state; Leavenworth, especially, would be sure to feel their wrath. The streets of the city were guarded, and orders issued, to arrest every straggler who was without a pass. Cannon were mounted on the surrounding hills, and every man who could shoulder a musket was required to report for duty. I was tempted to go, armed and equipped, to the “front,” but recollecting I had not fired a gun for twenty years, I concluded I could not do much execution, and so set my face homeward. But how to get across the river into Missouri, was the question, as no one was allowed to go over without a pass, and I had no pass, and probably could not get one. I, however, rode boldly to the ferry as if I was on important business, and was passed over without being questioned. But when near Weston, I was stopped by the picket; but the officer of the day soon coming along, took me to head-quarters, where I obtained a pass to St. Joseph. Leaving my horse with a kind friend, I went to St. Joseph by rail, and thence to the Mississippi river, two hundred miles across the state. Considerable portion of the way being infested with bushwackers, there were thirty soldiers on the train to protect us from those bloody scoundrels. The guards fired on two horsemen, who seemed to be fleeing from the rushing train. Both fell, and as I learned afterward, they were killed, and were Union men. The conductor thought they were bushwackers, and that class of fighters were shot down like mad dogs, as they deserved to be. Only a few days before, and a few miles from that spot, Bill Anderson’s bloody crew stopped a train, and murdered in cold blood twenty-one of the passengers. All armed stragglers on the prairies, were suspiciously regarded in that locality, after that terrible crime was perpetrated. Macon City was alive with business, fifteen hundred soldiers being there digging ditches, throwing up breastworks, and making every other necessary preparation to resist an attack, which was daily expected. I went to St. Louis, and found the citizens very indignant at the way General Rosecrans was managing affairs. Half of a general, with the force at Rosecrans’ command, would have driven Price out of the state at the beginning of the invasion, when he was yet in the south-east corner of it. But Rosecrans’ head being full of whisky and popery, he let the rebels do about as they pleased. They overran the best portion of the state, and did an immense amount of harm.

I spent three weeks, in the business of my life, between Chicago and Toledo, Ohio. Lectured in many places I had not before visited, and much extended my acquaintance. Had an appointment in East Toledo, a suburb of Toledo, and about three miles from it. It was a dismal night, and the road out there was a dismal road. I started after dark, on foot and alone, to fill the appointment. The weather was cold, the night dark, and the rain pouring down in torrents. There being no sidewalk, and the mud deep, I had an interesting walk. Arriving at the meeting-house, I found it dark, and the door locked; and after shivering in the wet and cold outside one hour, and not a soul joining me, I returned whence I came. I suppose no one expected I would be on hand such a night. The next day on the cars, I had the following conversation with a fellow passenger:

“I do not believe in eternal punishment. I believe God will destroy the wicked, soul and body, root and branch.”

“When will he do all this?”

“At the resurrection. Then God will raise saint and sinner, take the righteous to himself, and burn the wicked to ashes.”

“I congratulate you on the improvement you have made on old Orthodoxy. It is certainly better to burn sinners up, then burn them eternally.”

“I do not believe any one in this world has a spark of immortality in him. We are born mortal, live mortal, and unless we comply with certain conditions, we never can be immortal. Immortality is conditional, and unless we comply with those conditions, we shall be consumed in the conflagration.”

“What are those conditions?”

“Faith in Christ, is one of them.”

“Will all be destroyed except those who exercise faith in Christ? Is that your theory?”

“Yes.”

“Then nearly all mankind will be burned up. The countless millions who lived before Christ’s advent—the good and the bad—all consumed in one pile. All the Pagans, Mohammedans, and Jews who have lived since his birth will share the same fiery fate. All idiots, all children who have died such, will be consumed with them. Your creed is the gospel of destruction, almost universal destruction.”

“I did not say all them would be destroyed.”

“I admit you did not say so in so many words, but no other inference can be drawn from your position. You said no one would be blessed with immortality and eternal life, who did not have faith in Christ in this world. The child, the idiot, the Pagan, the Mohammedan, all lack such a faith here, and the inference is, they will all be destroyed. You are ashamed to admit in so many words such a horrid idea to me, but that is your faith.”

“You do not understand me, and you cannot convince the people of the White House that all will be saved.”

“I understand you and your fiery faith perfectly well. It is worse than Atheism, for it asserts that death is the end of man, while your creed asserts, that nearly all mankind will be raised from the dead on purpose to burn them up. Atheism is a hundred fold better than your theory. It is amazing to me, that a man with the Bible in his hands, and God all round him, can entertain such a terrible theory. You have eyes, but you see not; ears, but you hear not; understanding, but understand not. Read the words of truth emblazoned on God’s word and works, accept their teachings, and abandon your fiery creed, your worse than atheistical dogma.”

Spent one month on the Illinois Central railroad, and went south as far as Du Quoin, about three hundred miles, and lectured in most of the important towns, on and near the road. When in Mattoon and Charleston, the glorious news arrived of the evacuation of Richmond, and the surrender of Lee. Up went the banners, and loud were the hosannas. Every body were in the street, shaking hands, and with smiling faces. The terrible war was over, the government was triumphantly sustained, and the soldier boys would soon return. No wonder the people were happy.

I was in Ashley, April 14th. Some one said, “Have you heard the news?” “What news?” “Mr. Lincoln was murdered last night!” “It cannot be so,” I replied; “it is doubtless a false report?” But in a few moments, the passenger train came down with its engine draped in black. That confirmed the heart-rending report. As the train approached the depot no one spoke—no one could speak. The people turned homeward with meditative steps and down cast look. All over the land, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, in city and country, where the sad tidings was conveyed, the people were struck dumb. Mr. Lincoln’s character had been tested by the most difficult circumstances, and he had proved himself to be a wise, noble, far-seeing man. Every body had confidence in him—in his judgment, his uprightness, his patriotism. He was deemed the Savior of his country. No wonder the people were “stricken, smitten and afflicted.” And then, the awful news was so different from what the people had just been feasting on. This was victory, victory, victory. The enemy was subdued, and the country saved. That was death, death, death. The great, the good, the beloved President, was murdered, and that, too, in the very hour of his triumph.

I was at Du Quoin the next day; and it was reported of three men in town, that they had said, “Lincoln was served right,” and forthwith some soldiers, who were at home on a furlough, started post-haste, and brought them into town. They would have been hung, if it had been proved they dropped those obnoxious words.

I had a discussion in Milford, Ohio, with John Sweeney of Chicago, which continued four days. He was pretty well posted on doctrinal points, and did some good work for his cause. The discussion was conducted pleasantly, and I trust profitably to the hearers. He said, that the idea of the salvation of all men was new in the world; had been entertained but a few years. In my reply I remarked:

The gentleman greatly errs in asserting that the idea of the final purification and salvation of all souls, is a new thought in this world. The apostle Peter informs us, that the “Restitution of all things was spoken by the mouth of all God’s holy prophets since the world began.” Acts iii. 21. It is as old, then, as inspiration, as revelation. And far back in the depths of the past, hundreds of years before Christ, and outside of the Jewish nation, the “Restitution of all things” was cherished by many of the wise and good. Upper India was doubtless one of the first abodes of mankind after the flood, Noah or some of his children, having settled there. In the sacred books of the early inhabitants of that country, the redemption of all souls is distinctly stated. Budhism, a sort of Protestant Reformation of the old faith of the people, avows the same destiny for mankind. Padmahani, the Son of the Supreme God, made a vow not to return to heaven until all beings should be brought through him to salvation. True, they were to pass through many terrible hells—first, a hell of snakes, then came thirty-two principal hells, and then one hundred and twenty minor hells. The road to heaven, according to that old theology, was certainly hard to travel; but I suppose one had better go to heaven through all those hells than not get there at all. The author of the “Friend of India,” gives the following as the views of many of the present inhabitants of that country. “According to the Brahmos, God is a loving Father, and men are his children; to secure happiness, men must avoid sin and subdue the sins to which they are prone. They must fulfil all human duty, and especially devote themselves to works of benevolence among the ignorant and poor. For the wrong they do, they will suffer punishment; but their sufferings are remedial, and will purify the soul from all its errors. Meditation and prayer are to be employed for the same end; and to assist their followers in this duty, a little book has been published, which is extensively used.”

In Egypt, the land of ancient wisdom, many of the priests, Dr. Enfield thinks, entertained a belief in the salvation of all men. See his “History of Philosophy,” Book I, chapter 8. In the old Persian mythology, the same idea is contained. It has a God and a Savior; and the latter will finally restore all from the power of satan.

For three or four hundred years after Christ, many of the leading Christian writers were believers in the “Restitution of all things.” Says Clement, President of the theological school in Alexandria, the most noted school of the second and third centuries: “How is he a Savior and Lord, unless he is the Savior and Lord of all? He is certainly the Savior of those who have believed: and of those who have not believed he is the Lord, until by being brought to confess him they shall receive the proper and well-adapted blessing for themselves.” “The Lord is the propitiation not only for our sins, that is, of the faithful, but also for the whole world; therefore he indeed saves all, but converts some by punishments, and others by gaining their free-will, so that he has the high honor that unto him every knee should bow, of things in heaven, on earth, and under the earth; that is, angels, men, and the souls of those who died before his advent.”

Clement’s great pupil, Origen, was a noted advocate of Universal Salvation. He says: “We assert that the Word who is the wisdom of God, shall bring together all intelligent creatures, and convert them into his own perfection, through the instrumentalities of their free-will and their own exertions. And the consummation of all things will be the extinction of sin; but whether it shall then be so abolished as never to revive again in the universe does not belong to the present discourse to show. What relates, however, to the entire abolition of sin and the reformation of every soul, may be obscurely traced in many of the prophecies; for there we discover that the name of God is to be invoked by all, so that all shall serve him with one consent, that the reproach of contumely is to be taken away, and that there is to be no more sin, nor vain words, nor treacherous tongue. This may not indeed take place with mankind in the present life, but be accomplished after they shall have been liberated from the body.”

A century later, Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, advocated the same faith in the plainest terms: “What therefore is the scope of St. Paul’s dissertation in this place? That the nature of evil shall at last be wholly exterminated, and divine, immortal goodness embrace within itself every rational creature; so that of all who were made by God, not one shall be excluded from his kingdom.”

Diodorus, Bishop of Tarsus, in Silicia, A.D. 378, was of that faith. “The wicked,” he says, “are to suffer, not eternal torment, but a punishment proportioned in length to the amount of their guilt; after which, they are to be happy without end.” About the same time, lived Fabius Manus Victorinus. He maintained, that “Christ will regenerate all things; through him all things will be purged, and return to eternal life.”

Other learned, good, and influential men in those early days, believed in and taught this truth. I will name Titus, Bishop of Bostia; Basil the Great, Bishop of Cæsarea; Didymus the Blind, and the learned and powerful Jerome. In fact, most of the Christians, Orthodox and anti-Orthodox, in the first age of the Christian Era, entertained this faith. The writers of those times speak of this faith as if it was not questioned; they offer no labored argument in its defence, and when they do refer to it, it is only incidentally. But darkness was rapidly covering the earth, and gross darkness the people. The enlightened and benevolent doctrine of the Restitution was not adapted to the savagism of the dark ages that was then threatening the world, and so in the year of our Lord 553, at Constantinople, by the Fifth Ecumenical Council, it was condemned. From that period till the Reformation of the fourteenth century, the religions of the world corresponded with the ignorance and brutality that prevailed. Our wise, benevolent, and pure faith, not harmonizing with the savagism of the times, had but few adherents. But in the great religious awakening of the fourteenth century, it was again entertained, and has been ever since gradually gaining in favor.

In A.D. 1650, Gerard Winstonley, an Englishman, in a book called, “Mystery of God,” thus writes, “The whole creation of mankind shall be delivered from corruption, bondage, death, and pain.” He was persecuted for his faith, and thrown into prison. At the same time lived and labored William Earbury, an eminent preacher among the Independents. He was a defender of the same faith. He asked, “What gospel, what glad tidings is it to tell the world, that none can be saved but the elect and believers? Christ came to save only the lost, giving the word of life to all men, that they might believe, a shutting all up in unbelief, that he might have mercy on all.” “For the ministry of God shall be finished, fully known, and the angel swears by God, that time shall be no more; for all shall be taken up into eternity, unto God himself, and God shall be all in all.” (Terror of Tythes, pages 175, 244.)

Another noble defender of the Restitution in those times, was Richard Coppin. He was charged with blasphemy for believing in Universal Salvation, and he replied, “Whatever is the will of God is not blasphemy to affirm. The will of God is the salvation of all men, therefore to say that all men shall be saved is not blasphemy.” (Truth’s Triumph, page 7.) He confounded his opposers in discussion, and that so enraged them, they had him imprisoned. This took place in 1656. At this time a book by an unknown author appeared, with this title: “Of the Torments of Hell; The Foundation; And the Pillars Thereof Discovered, Searched, Shaken and Ruined. With infallible proof that there is not to be punishment for the wicked after this life; for any to endure that shall not end.” The author was certainly a man of ability, and much reading. He gives Orthodoxy some pretty hard hits. This was written over two hundred years ago.

At the same time lived Jeremy White, a chaplain to Protector Cromwell. He published a book called, “The Restitution of All Things: or, a vindication of the goodness and grace of God, to be manifested at last in the recovery of the whole creation out of their fall.” He was truly a christian man; his soul was imbued with the spirit of his faith. Dr. Thomas Burnet of that age, was of like faith, and Lord Macauley, in his “History of England,” says he was a “clergyman of eminent genius, learning and virtue.” In one of his works he writes, “I know not by what means it happens at present, that some divines of a cruel and fiery temper are extremely pleased with eternal and infinite punishment, and can hardly endure to have the point fairly examined and debated on both sides.” There are some of that kind in the world now.

William Whiston, the well known translator of Josephus, was an unbeliever in endless misery. He wrote a book entitled, “The Eternity of Hell Torments Considered.” Archbishop Hare says, he was “a fair, unblemished character; all his life he cultivated piety, virtue and good bearing.” He succeeded Sir Isaac Newton as Professor of Mathematics, at Cambridge. In his book he offers some cogent arguments against eternal woe, but I have not time to state them on this occasion. R. Roach, another English clergyman, who flourished over an hundred years ago, say, “Then will the general redemption be accomplished, and the mediating office of the great High Priest be at an end, for he will then deliver up the kingdom thus completed to his Father, that ‘God may be all in all.’” Bishop Warburton, the celebrated author of the “Divine Legation of Moses,” had no faith in ceaseless woe. He justly calls the preachers of that doctrine, “unmerciful doctors,” “merciless doctors.”

But I have not time to cite any more English testimony, that the doctrines of the Restitution have been long entertained by many of the purest, best, and most learned of that nation. I will cross over into Germany, and see if these sentiments have not been entertained in that enlightened land.

As early as 1590, Samuel Huber, Professor of Divinity, in Wittemburg, was a believer in the Restitution, according to Spauheim, Professor of Divinity at Geneva: “We think,” says the latter, “the opinion of Huber on this subject absurd, who about the close of the last century, began to publish and defend a universal election of all men in Christ to salvation.” At the same early day our righteous faith had a talented, learned and pious advocate in John William Petersen. He was Professor of Poetry at Rostock, in 1677. He was also superintendent at Lubic and Lunenburg, and court preacher at Lutin. In 1700, he published a work in three volumes, in defense of the Restitution, which was extensively read, and caused much excitement in Germany.

At the same time was published a book which has been widely circulated and extensively read. It is entitled, “The Everlasting Gospel,” by Paul Seigvolk. It clearly and forcibly advocates the salvation of mankind. It was very popular in Germany, and has been republished at various times in different parts of Europe. It was also published in this country as early as 1753. That our divine faith was widely diffused in those days, we learn from many other sources. In the Analytical Review, an English periodical published in 1780, we find the following:

“The doctrine of the final happiness of mankind, which present the prospect of the termination of all evil, and of a period in which the deep shades of misery and guilt, which have so long enveloped the universe, shall be forever dispelled, is so pleasing a speculation to a benevolent mind, that we do not wonder it meets with so many advocates. From the earliest period, we doubt not the belief of it has been secretly entertained by many, who, in the face of opposition and danger, had not the resolution to avow it. Now, however, it has broken through every restriction, and walks abroad in every form that is adapted to convince the philosophic, to arouse the unthinking, and to melt the tender.”

These books, and others of like character, were extensively circulated in Germany, and called the attention of the public to the benevolent faith advocated with so much learning and piety. An exciting controversy was the result; and learned men on both sides put forth all their strength for and against this controverted doctrine.

But I have not time to say more about the history of Universalism in Germany. Ever since the Reformation, that faith has been gaining adherents, and at the present time, it is almost universally entertained by the Protestants of that country. Says Dr. Dwight, in “Travels in North Germany,” “The doctrine of endless punishment is almost universally rejected. I have seen but one person who believed it.” Not only in Germany and England, but in Holland, Switzerland, France, Scotland, and in other parts of Europe, the doctrine of Universal Salvation prevailed at an early day, and at the present time is widely diffused. It exists more or less in all the Protestant denominations. There is no sect in Europe called Universalist, but the sentiment is found in all sects, and encounters very little opposition.

I also spent three weeks in the north part of Iowa. Lectured in Lyons, Marshalltown, Newton, Iowa City, Washington, and in many other places. T. C. Eaton, who resides in Des Moines, has labored very successfully in the interior of that state. He has long been in the West—has resided in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, as well as in Iowa—and wherever he has lived, has always been a faithful laborer in the Master’s vineyard. J. P. Sanford, is in Marshalltown, and is an eloquent speaker, and laborious worker. Some fifteen years since, I was introduced to him in Bentonsport, Iowa. He was then a Methodist, and asked many questions concerning the liberal faith. Six months afterward he commenced preaching, and has been in the ministry ever since. He was in the army two years during the late rebellion, and was captain, colonel, chaplain. He has traveled some in Europe, and, it is said, delivers some interesting lectures concerning “the old country.” He is also a noted masonic lecturer. In Newton met A. C. Edmonds, who resides and preaches in the place. He has spent several years in California and Oregon, traveling and preaching; has also published a denominational paper in those states. Our people have a meeting-house, also a society, in Newton. In Iowa City, the Universalists own a church edifice, and J. Kinney is pastor of the society. He is an excellent man, and the good cause prospers under his ministry.

I have labored in Iowa, more or less, most every year, for a long time, and until lately my journeys were made on horseback. In this way I have traveled over about two thirds of the state. Iowa abounds in good soil, and will, in a few years, be a rich and populous country. Now is the time to establish our beautiful faith in that young and vigorous state. It will improve the people spiritually and morally, while they are making themselves pleasant homes, and developing the resources of the land. Said a man to me in Marshalltown:

“Do you think the assassin Booth can be saved?”

“Jesus said, ‘I came to seek and save the lost.’ ‘They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.’ And the apostle Paul teaches, that Christ came to save the chief of sinners. As it was the mission of our Savior to save the lost, the morally sick, the chief of sinners, I dare not say, that even Booth cannot be saved. But if Orthodoxy is true, I had rather have Booth’s chances for heaven than Mr. Lincoln’s. The latter received his death wound without a moment’s warning, and was not conscious an instant after the fatal bullet struck his head. He belonged to no church, was not a professor of religion; and so according to Orthodoxy, died impenitent, unregenerated, a sinner, and must be lost eternally. But Booth lived one or two hours after he was wounded, and was perfectly conscious to the last moment of his life. And who knows but he repented of his great crime before he expired? And if he did, according to Orthodoxy, he went straight to heaven. But if there is any truth in Orthodoxy, Mr. Lincoln had no chance whatever, for he died ‘impenitent.’ If Partialism is true, as a general rule, murderers are saved, while the murdered are lost, for in nine cases of every ten, the latter, being killed suddenly, without any intimation of their doom, and so have not time to say ‘Lord save me,’ are eternally lost; while the former, the murderers, having timely warning of their fate, and special effort being made for their regeneration, almost invariably swing from the gallows soundly converted, and so go from the gibbet to immortal glory. It takes Orthodoxy to translate the bloody criminal into a saint, and fit him for heaven between his monstrous crime and the halter; but Universalism is required to save the murdered, the victim of his iniquity. While I was residing in St. Louis, a wretch by the name of Lamb, held with his own hands, his young and confiding wife in the Mississippi river, till she was dead. He was arrested, confessed his guilt, and was hung; and on the gallows said, ‘I have a hope within me that bears me up—a hope that I shall live with God, and be happy with him, and that I shall sing his praise. I die with a trust in God.’ And Dr. Anderson, a Presbyterian, his spiritual adviser, published in the papers that he was ‘satisfied of the reality of Lamb’s penitence.’ Behold the abominations of Orthodoxy! That woman belonged to no church, had not ‘got religion,’ and so was banished from the murderer’s hands to the devil, to be the victim of his diabolical cruelty eternally. But the incarnate fiend, whom the law called her husband, was transported a few months afterward, from the gallows to the third heaven, according to Orthodoxy.”

In one of my sermons in Washington, I spoke as follows:

As man is susceptible of physical improvement, is he not also of intellectual and moral? Cannot the soul develop, grow, as well as the body? What a vast difference there is between the infant mind and that mind which has devoted years to intellectual and moral culture? The soul is a germ; and as the germ in the seed, under favorable circumstances, will bud, blossom, and yield a rich harvest, so this spiritual germ, if no obstructions interdict, will develop its heavenly proportions to perfect manhood. The race, like each individual, has its childhood, its youth, and perfect manhood. One individual is a representative of the race. As one progresses the rest may. Suppose every human being who walks the earth for five hundred years, should make intellectual and moral improvement, the great end and aim of his life, all other pursuits subordinate to that one, what would be the consequence? Would not Americans and Europeans, at the expiration of that time, be as far in advance of their present condition as they are now in advance of the New Hollanders, Hottentots, and inhabitants of the South Sea Islands? Undoubtedly they would. The whole race would then be in the kingdom of God. Sin would no longer be nurtured on earth. There would be no soil for it to grow in. The long hoped for, and prayed for, Millenium would be ushered in—all would know the Lord from the least to the greatest—the lion and the lamb would lie down together. This glorious era is predicted by Holy Writ, and God’s elder Scriptures. Revelation and nature unite in testifying that mankind, God’s noblest and best work, and for whom the universe was made, are susceptible of infinite improvement, that they will shine brighter and brighter to the perfect day.

It may require more than five centuries to produce such results; it probably will; but eternity is before us. Our race is in its dawn only. The morning twilight has just appeared. The darkness of barbarism still lingers in the horizon. The chains of intellectual and moral despotism are still clanking in our midst. But the race, as well as the individual, will reach noon-day. The sun of righteousness will mount the zenith, and disperse all darkness and melt all chains. Such characters as Moses, Homer, Plato, Lord Bacon, Shakspeare, Newton, Napoleon, Franklin, Washington, Jefferson, Clay, Webster, Beecher, Chapin, and a multitude of others in INTELLECT; and such as Socrates, St. John, St. Paul, Melancthon, Howard, Channing, Oberlin, Speer, and others too numerous to mention, in MORAL WORTH, indicate the intellectual and moral heights all may ultimately attain. They stand out in bold relief from the mass of mankind, indicating the capabilities of human nature. They are pioneers in the intellectual and moral field, and the ground they occupy will ere long be occupied by all. They are beacons on the rushing stream of life to pilot humanity into the celestial haven.

The history of the earth and all therein and thereon, as revealed by science and history, illustrates the law of progress. This earth has been a theater of life for innumerable ages—how long it is not for us to know. Many of the remains of the old world are embedded in the crust of the earth; and from them we learn, that from the first appearance of life in the vegetable form, up to man, there has been a regular progressive development. The order seems to have been about thus: 1. Gross matter; 2. Mineral; 3. Marine Plants; 4. Fish; 5. Reptiles; 6. Birds; 7. Marsupial; 8. Mamalia; 9. Man, the flower, the crown, the lord of creation. All these classes are interlinked, one hand reaching up, and the other down, and all are ascending in the line of the spiral, up to man. Every succeeding class is superior to the preceding, from the first to the last, and each class is moving onward. The last type of the vegetable kingdom is infinitely superior to the first, and so of all the other classes. And man of the sixtieth century is far superior to man of the first century. No miracle was wrought in bringing any of these species into existence. No law of nature was violated, or suspended; but all, from the lowest grade up to man, were brought on to the stage of life according to perfect and immutable laws, emenating from the great Fountain of the Universe.

Mankind in their infancy were ignorant creatures; as much below the Indians of the Rocky Mountains, intellectually and morally, as they are below us. They wandered, naked, in clans, like the Indians of the West, subsisting on fish, reptiles, and such animals as they could kill with their simple weapons, and on the spontaneous fruit of the earth, without shelter by night, or protection from the burning sun or pelting storm.

Many centuries after this period, about the time the city of Babylon was founded, although great advancement had been made, yet the mass of the people were as ignorant as are the aborigines of America. There were a few highly developed minds, but the great body of the people were enveloped in mental darkness, of which we can form but faint conception—fit materials for tyrants and leaders to make machines of, and they freely used them for such sacrilegious purposes. They were subject to their leader’s will; were his bone and sinew; his battle axe and shield. He was the head, they the body. At his will they suffered and toiled, lived and died, and when their oppressors’ earthly career closed, they erected pyramids to perpetuate his fame and their degradation. No effort was made to enlighten and moralize the mass of mankind, for their masters well knew that ignorant men made the best tools. No advancement would have been made under such unfavorable circumstances had not growth been natural to man.

If we trace the history of mankind during the rise and progress of the Chaldean, Babylonian, Persian and Roman empires, up to the time Christ was on earth, we find, that although ignorance and degradation are prominent features of the civilization of those times, yet our hearts are made glad with clear evidence of human progress. Every subsequent generation was wiser and better than the previous one. True, the advancing tide was slow, the current sluggish; sometimes obstacles would arrest its progress, and even force it back toward its source, but nature would then redouble her efforts, and sweep away all obstacles, and press forward with her immortal freight to sunnier skies and fairer climes.

When the Christian Era opened, it was the golden age of antiquity. The purity of our Savior’s life, his deep and fervent love for mankind, the beauty and life-giving energy of the precepts and truths he uttered, together with the goodness, zeal and extensive labors and sufferings of his apostles and their associates, gave the human mind an impetus it had not before known.

The apostles and their coadjutors traversed the Roman empire, which embraced most of the known world, and denounced Paganism, and every species of immorality, and called on the nations of the earth to worship the one living and true God, who made and governs the universe. They proclaimed, in obedience to their divine Master, that God was the Father of all mankind; that the latter compose one great BROTHERHOOD, and are destined for IMMORTALITY, PROGRESSION and HAPPINESS; and from these cardinal truths they drew these inferences, and enforced them with holy life and eloquent speech—that men should exercise brotherly kindness, general benevolence and charity, and aid each other in traveling the heavenly road.

Those holy men did not labor in vain. The human soul was quickened into higher life by the germinating power of truth; and had the gospel been retained in its purity, and had the social and political condition of mankind been in a higher sphere of development, and had those favorable conditions continued to the present time, long ago the Millenium would have been ushered in. But the gospel was corrupted; the social and political condition of mankind, although in advance of any previous period, was in a deplorable state. The Roman heart was rotten, the Roman empire was corrupt, and before Christianity was proclaimed in it to much extent, the empire was tottering on its throne, and shaking from center to circumference; and these precursors of still greater evils filled the world with terror and confusion. The Pope supplanted Christ, and Catholicism, Christianity; and the Roman empire, by political earthquakes, was shaking on its sandy foundation. And to add to the terrors and disasters of the times, floods of barbarians came rushing from the north, and the Saracens from the east, like the lava from Vesuvius, that overwhelmed Herculaneum and Pompeii, and buried the empire and civilization beneath the flood, and almost extinguished the light and life of Christianity. Those were the darkest days the world had seen for many a century.

Human progress then received a check from which it was a long time in recovering; but the innate tendency of human nature to move onward finally overcame the mountains that human folly had thrown in its way, and after the lapse of several centuries it emerged into the light of science and religion.

The morning twilight which succeeded that long night of anarchy, priestly rule and superstition, dawned on the world in the fourteenth century. Intellect, which had slumbered for ages, began to throw off its lethargy. Universities sprang up in Europe. Science, literature and religion began to be studied. Old theories were looked into and questioned; and then the martyr’s fires were rekindled by the conservatives of that age; for every age has a class who love to stand up to their ears in mud at their old landmarks, and threaten all with temporal ruin or eternal damnation, or both, who make an effort to get out of the filth into the pure air and sunshine of heaven. This old hunkerism I abhor, whether in church, state, or literature. It would repress the energies of the world. Our motto should be—go where the stream of truth bears us, regardless of consequences; they should not be feared. Error and ignorance only are real and fearful enemies.

Those early pioneers in the domain of truth, paid dear for their independence and wisdom; many of whom were burned at the stake or incarcerated in dungeons. But the truths they uttered were not so easily forced out of the world. A pious poet of those times, speaking of the disinterment and scattering of Wickliffe’s ashes on the Avon, utters this prophetic language:

“The Avon to the Severn runs,

The Severn to the sea,

And Wickliffe’s ashes shall be strewn

Wide as the waters be.”

The martyrs of truth fertilize our soil. The fires that consumed their bodies lighten our skies. The clanking of their chains, and the groans they uttered, are yet sounding in our ears, and inspire us with indignation against despotism of every name and kind. They did as much for human progress by suffering and dying in its cause as they did by the pen, speech, or holy life. Their tears and their blood form a river which has been meandering through the heart of humanity down to the present time; and all along its margin, little rills have been pouring into it from the hearts and eyes of those who have been persecuted for righteousness’ sake. And the stream that was once small has become large, and will increase every day as it flows on, imparting vitality to the great heart of humanity. Revere those great men. And although they may not have known the whole truth, yet they were far in advance of the age in which they lived, were true friends of man, and we owe them a lasting debt of gratitude.

And what shall I say of the present condition of the enlightened nations of the earth? The truth is, never before did man attain the intellectual and moral eminence he now enjoys; never before was the human mind so active or making such rapid strides. “The world is entering on a new moral cycle. The great heart of humanity is heaving with hopes of a still brighter day. The instincts of our nature prophesy its approach, and the best intellects of our world are struggling to turn that prophecy to fulfilment. Thoughts of freedom, duty, benevolence, equality and human brotherhood agitate the nations of the earth; and neither the Pope with his Cardinals and Jesuits, nor the kings with their ministers, can repress it. Were these thoughts imprisoned in the center of the earth, they would burst its granite folds, speed onward in their career and fill their destiny. They are imbued with a deathless vigor. They must prevail, or the idea of a Moral Governor of the universe is impossible, and the divine truths of the gospel a fable.”

Old ideas are being modified, or laid aside without a memento to keep them in remembrance, and new ones from the heavenly mint are taking their places. The pruning-hook and plough-share are making sad havoc of grey-bearded theories. But we must not for a moment suppose that the worshipers of antiquated institutions and ideas, will yield in this struggle without a desperate effort to preserve their idols. And no doubt the cry will be raised as of old, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians;” and multitudes will shout, “Crucify, crucify, all who are not of our party.”

All who have eyes must see that changes are taking place every where. Men may shut their eyes and prophesy that all things will continue as they are; but as Galileo said of the earth, after renouncing his philosophy to save his life: “It revolves still;” so whether we believe it or not, the human mind is outgrowing and leaving old errors, which had their origin in barbarism, and is advancing into the region of truth and reality.

But the old heavens and earth will not pass away without great noise—not until the elements shall be melted with fervent heat, by the Sun of righteousness. The nations of the earth have long fought with steel and bullet, but now the great battle of ideas is being fought. The old and the new, the past and the present, the kingdom of God and the kingdom of satan, have entered the list; and as sure as the rising sun dispels the darkness, chill, and dampness of night, as sure as day succeeds night, will truth triumph over error in this conflict. The hay, wood and stubble will be consumed, but the silver and gold will pass the fiery ordeal.

Had some conversation with a Spiritualist. The Bible, in his estimation, is full of lies and absurdities, as unreliable in its religious instruction as an almanac in its weather prognostics. But all Spiritualists do not go to that extreme; many of them entertain sincere respect for that book, and love to cultivate the religious sentiment. I have a great deal of faith in that kind of Spiritualism. The old prophets, Christ and his apostles, and multitudes of the wise and good in all ages, have been Spiritualists of that character. Such kind of Spiritualism is only another name for Christianity. But with the irreverent and ungodly sort of Spiritualism, I have no sympathy. I believe it to be blasting and damning in its influence, and will ultimately land its believers in rank Atheism. It has already made shipwreck of many a man and woman, and its dreadful work in that direction will fearfully increase unless there should be a return to reason.

I attended a revival meeting while on this journey, and witnessed some extraordinary doings. There was shouting, ranting, screaming, jumping, crying and laughing. The preacher told us, that the lowest and vilest could be instantly translated into saints. I remembered the old song I had heard on such occasions:

“Come dirty, come filthy, come ragged, come bare:

You can’t come too filthy—come just as you are.”

The preacher did not intend to promote immorality, but no doubt this telling people, that unwashed scoundrels at the end of a long life in every crime can be instantly transformed into saints of the first water, and so escape all punishment for a misspent life, has a very immoral influence. A hardened sinner may to-day right-about face, and resolve to travel upward hereafter, but he has a long journey before him. But if he pursues it, he will finally reach the heavenly city, and walk its golden streets.

A man at the meeting asked me if a person could be “saved without repentance and regeneration?” I replied:

“You might as well ask if a man can see without eyes, hear without ears, think without a head, talk without a tongue, or walk without legs. You misunderstand salvation. It is not from an outward hell, but from ignorance, error, sin, and all their debasing effects. He who has thoroughly repented, or reformed, which is the same thing, is saved, not will be; a regenerated soul is saved, not will be saved at some future period, and in some other world. Repentance and regeneration sweep and garnish the soul, make it a fit habitation for the heavenly guest—salvation. Jesus said, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand.’ It is always ‘at hand,’ ready to be established in every reformed, regenerated heart.”

Said another, “If Universalism is true, what is the use of preaching?”

“Why, my dear sir,” I answered, “preaching is one means by which salvation is effected. God works by means. By means of the sun he lightens and warms the earth; by means of the rain he cools and purifies the atmosphere, fertilizes the soil, and fills our fountains with living water. By means of natural laws he controls every globe, and every particle of matter in the universe. So, by wise and righteous instrumentalities, he blesses man spiritually, and will continue to bless him forever and ever. And the proclamation of truth and righteousness, through the christian ministry, is one means appointed by heaven to this blessed end. Eighteen hundred years ago Jesus said, ‘Know the truth, and the truth shall make you free;’ and he consecrated men, and commissioned them, to ‘Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.’ It is freedom now that we need; it is salvation now, that the proclamation of the truth produces. As the presence of Jesus brought salvation into Zaccheus’ house, so the preaching of the gospel brings a present salvation to the soul. Give up the wretched delusion, that the chief end of preaching is to save us from a hell beyond the grave. It is for no such a purpose. Its object is to enlighten and purify man now, that he may be happy in this world.”

In Kimball, I delivered a discourse; and at its close a Methodist minister told the congregation that he, heart and soul, believed in the “Restitution of all things;” and that he would not part with that faith for the world. He said it was the joy of his life; it made him a better man; it prepared him to live, and he trusted that it would be his stay and his hope in the hour of death.

I stopped in Moline, Ill., and delivered one discourse. This is a manufacturing place, at the head of Rock Island, and exhibits much thrift and enterprise. Said a man to me in the town:

“The Bible says, no self-murderer shall enter the kingdom of God. What do you do with that passage?”

“That is home-made scripture,” I replied; “there is nothing of the kind in the Bible. Besides, there never was, and never will be, a self-murderer. To murder is to ‘kill with malice aforethought.’ A man may commit suicide, but that is not murder, for he does not do it with malignity or malice toward himself. For the poor suicide I have much sympathy. Who can estimate the agony he suffered, to escape which, he took his own life? Have charity for such a poor unfortunate; speak not harshly of him; condemn him not. Jesus would weep over his grave, and say, ‘Father, forgive him.’ The apostle John says, ‘Whoso hateth his brother is a murderer, and ye know, that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.’ 1 John iii. 15. This speaks of the present condition of the murderer—not his everlasting condition. No murderer hath eternal life abiding in him. Of course he has not, or he would not be a murderer. Eternal life is Christ-life, heaven-life; a life of love to God, and good will toward man. A murderer is selfish, cruel, bloody, revengeful. A murderous character, and a christian character, cannot exist in one soul. But the murderer may reform. Paul was a persecutor, assisted in murdering Stephen of blessed memory, but he reformed. Jesus on the cross prayed God to forgive his murderers.”

“But then suppose he dies a murderer, what will become of him?”

“If the murderer can reform before he dies, why not after he dies? Does reason, wisdom, goodness, the Bible say, that if a man leaves this world a sinner, he will be compelled to be a sinner eternally? That is an assumption of Orthodoxy; but it never was proved, and never will be. Why does the Bible say, ‘God will have all men to be saved,’ if it is his purpose that all who leave this world sinners never shall be saved? Why does he call on all to repent, if he intends, that all who die impenitent never shall reform? It is a dreadful thing to live or die a murderer; but the mercy of God can save him in this world, and that same mercy can save him in the future world.”

CHAPTER XIX.

Last Campaign—In Galesburg, Ill.—The United States Convention—Lombard University—Other Schools—Journey to Missouri—In Macon City—In Brookfield—St. Joseph and other Cities—Grove Meeting—On the Missouri Bottom—Beautiful Country—Preach in Fillmore and Many Other Places—Returned Home—Anti-Orthodox Preaching—Funeral Sermons—Death—Life—Conclusion.

My last long campaign was in Missouri and Illinois. Left Chicago, accompanied by Mrs. Manford, Tuesday night, September 16, 1866, and by sunrise the next morning we were in Galesburg, Ill., one hundred and sixty miles southward. The United States Convention of Universalists was holding its annual session in that place, and we tarried till its close. Met many clergymen from the East and West I had not before seen; and had the satisfaction of shaking hands with W. S. Balch, with whom I studied many years before, but had not beheld his face since I left his sanctum in Claremont, N. H., to come West. He is now pastor of the Universalist society in Galesburg. Years have changed the outer man, somewhat, but the inner man seems to be as vigorous, generous and brotherly as ever. Brother Balch has noble qualities of head and heart; and he has ever been faithful and successful in his high calling.

The Lombard University is located in Galesburg; and although “University” is rather a big name for such an institution—the West is fond of high sounding names—it is an excellent school, and is doing a great work. It combines an academy and college; its doors are open to both sexes, they having equal privileges. This is as it should be. The old custom of educating girls and boys apart is all wrong. They learn faster together than if educated separately. A healthy rivalry is induced, each sex being anxious to secure the approbation of the other; besides, associating together, not less in the school-room than at home tends to refine and invigorate both sexes. The property of this institution is one hundred thousand dollars, and about as much more has recently been subscribed for its benefit. It is destined to exert a vast influence in the West in favor of liberal principles.

The denomination has several other excellent institutions of learning in the United States. There is Tufts College, located in Medford, Mass., four miles from Boston. Its funds and real estate are worth eight hundred and five thousand dollars. It has a library embracing ten thousand volumes. In Canton, N. Y., we have two schools—the St. Lawrence University, and Theological School. The University has property worth one hundred and four thousand dollars. We also have an academy in Clinton, N. Y., called the Clinton Liberal Institute. It has property amounting to fifty thousand dollars. We likewise have a school in Westbrook, Me., three miles from Portland. It is one of the best institutions in the state, and its permanent fund is thirty thousand dollars. The Green Mountain Institute is located in Woodstock, Vt. A fine farm is connected with the school, and the average attendance is about one hundred. In Glover, Vt., the Orleans Liberal Institute is located. From seventy to one hundred pupils attend it, and its friends intend to increase its usefulness.

There are three other educational institutions being established by the denomination. One in Jefferson, Wis. It has so far progressed, that one term has been held. A fine academy building will soon be erected. In Barre, sixteen miles from Montpelier, the capital of Vermont, our brethren are establishing a school. Fifty thousand dollars have already been subscribed. In Franklin, Mass., a first class academy will soon be in operation. Dr. Dean, its founder, donated sixty thousand dollars, and the trustees have raised forty thousand more. A magnificent building is nearly finished on a beautiful site, with ample grounds.

This is a pretty fair record for so young a denomination as ours; and all this has been accomplished in about thirty-five years. But our work is only fairly begun in the educational field. More schools must be established; and those already in operation must be strengthened, and their usefulness increased. Proper education improves the head and the heart, and qualifies us to act with dignity and success our part on the stage of life.

September 20th. Mrs. Manford returned to Chicago, and at 5 o’clock P. M., I took cars for Quincy, one hundred miles south; and the next morning was steaming across the Missouri prairies to Macon City, sixty miles west of the great river. Most of the country is prairie, high, dry and rolling, with good soil, but thinly settled. Saw large herds of cattle, horses, mules and sheep, feeding on the vast savannas. Lectured in Macon City. A good congregation would immediately be gathered here, if a minister could be obtained. Two lawyers, especially, expressed much anxiety for such an arrangement. Macon is at the crossing of the Hannibal and St. Joseph, and North Missouri railroads, and is bound to be an important town.

September 22d. Rode to Brookfield, forty miles west. Crossed the dividing ridge between the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, two of the great rivers of the world. Most of the country is hilly, timber is plenty, and the soil middling. Brookfield is exactly midway between the two rivers. The railroad company has its machine shops here, and the town is in a flourishing condition. The country around is beautiful and productive. It is a charming locality for a home. Rode into the country the next day, Sunday, eight miles, and talked to the people; returned in the afternoon, and lectured to a fair congregation.

September 25th. Proceeded to Chillicothe, forty miles toward the setting sun, and delivered my message. This is a fine town, and improving rapidly. We ought to have a church here, and could soon have one if proper effort was made. We always have large congregations here. I. M. Westfall, several years since, had a discussion in this place with a Methodist minister, and he made the dry bones shake.

September 27th. Journeyed to St. Joseph, about seventy miles. This is the largest town in North Missouri. It is located on the east bank of the Missouri river; has quite a city appearance; the streets are paved, and the business houses are chiefly brick, and of a substantial character. This, and three other towns within seventy-five miles, are striving for the mastery—Kansas City, Leavenworth and Lawrence. Time only will determine which will win. But there is bound to be one large commercial center somewhere in this region. Which of the four will be that city? I refer to 1875 for an answer.

September 28th. Rode to Savannah, thirteen miles northward, and lectured in the evening. R. K. Jones, an active and enterprising man, preaches here monthly. Expect to spend three weeks traveling where there are no railroads; and as I have no conveyance of my own, shall depend on a kind Providence, and good friends for transportation.

September 29th. Rode horseback to Fillmore, ten miles; a sprightly boy went with me to lead the horse back; and on the next day, Sunday, was conveyed by a friend, to Mound City, eighteen miles, where I delivered a long discourse at eleven o’clock, in a beautiful grove, and in the evening spoke in a school-house, four miles distant.

October 1st. Rode a borrowed horse twelve miles, and lectured at night. Was sick two days from excessive speaking. Met a woman who heard me in Ohio twenty-five years ago. Am now sixty miles above St. Joseph, on the Missouri river bottom. The soil is as rich as was that of the far-famed valley of Egypt. Most of the bottom is prairie, and the land dry, warm and easily tilled. It is a charming region—beautiful beyond description. A few miles west, the Missouri bluffs in Kansas and Nebraska are visible. Although barely able to sit on the horse, I rode twelve miles.

October 4th. The ride did me good—am all right again. Went in a buggy to Oregon, twelve miles, and heard an excellent discourse by R. K. Jones. About one year previous, I delivered three discourses in this town, the first of the kind heard there, and they caused considerable excitement; whereupon Mr. Smith, a Presbyterian clergyman, proposed debating, to which I consented. We settled the preliminaries; but Mr. Smith’s ardor for the discussion soon abated, and the subject was dropped. But another party is now trying to get up a discussion with me, and they are corresponding with Mr. Summerhill, of Cincinnati, Ohio, a noted minister in his order, about engaging in it.

October 5th. Went to Fillmore—rode part way, and walked part way—and lectured in the evening. A society will probably soon be organized here, as we have a goodly number of friends within a few miles of the place. At a previous visit to this town, a preacher replied to my discourse. There were several clergymen of different denominations present, and they delegated this one to be spokesman. But he yielded so much that his colleagues were disgusted and said, “he might as well have proclaimed himself a Universalist.”

October 7th. A friend conveyed me on Sunday morning, to Whitesville, eighteen miles, where I spoke on that day twice. Here also a society could be formed.

October 8th. A gentleman and lady took me in a buggy to Rochester, sixteen miles, where I spoke to a large congregation, but found only a few who sympathized with me.

October 9th. A kind friend conveyed me to my next appointment, in Maysville, twenty-five miles eastward. He took his three boys with him, he said, that they might see the country for they were all recently from Ohio. Men and boys were delighted with the country we passed over, as well they might be, for it is a lovely land—high, rolling, rich prairie. A large number attended the meeting. Probably not a dozen present had before heard a discourse on the Restitution. I hope some good seed was sown, and, that it will germinate, bud, blossom, and yield a rich harvest.

October 10th. Rode twenty-five miles to-day, and preached at night, and the next day. These were the first sermons on our faith ever heard in Gallatin. A Congregationalist minister gave notice that he should reply to them, two days subsequently. In a conversation with him he remarked, that his denomination were the “liberals of the evangelical school.” They may be in the West, but they certainly are not in the East. Their creed is cold, cruel, intolerant, Calvinism. There is not a particle of liberality or generosity in it. It is as rigid as iron bars, and cold as icebergs.

October 12th. Rode horseback sixteen miles, to Bancroft, and lectured. Although our liberal faith had not before been publicly taught here, I found many friends. A large family by the name of Hendricks, all formerly Dunkards, reside here, and they are devoted believers in the Restitution. Most of that denomination, I have met with, agree with us in the final redemption of humanity, and they are generally truly christian people. Elhanan Winchester once said, “If God has a people on earth, it is the Dunkards.”

October 13th. A friend took me to Trenton, eighteen miles, where I delivered three sermons. They were the first of the kind in the town, or county, and large numbers attended. A preacher did his best to keep the people away, but he was nearly deserted, for the people were bound to hear the “new doctrine.” I here met a man by the name of John Murray, who said he was a distant relative of the sainted Rev. John Murray. When I was in Iowa City recently, I found a man by the name of Winchester, who is a relative of Rev. Elhanan Winchester, of blessed memory. They have good blood in their veins.

October 15th. Conveyed to Lindville, fifteen miles, and preached at night. The people here had not before heard one of our faith. Some believed, and some disbelieved.

October 16th. Rode fourteen miles on horseback, and walked six miles. Came to a stream where there was no bridge, and pulling off boots and socks, waded through, and passed on to fill my appointments. Lectured twice in this place, Milan, to full houses.

October 18th. Went to Greencastle, fifteen miles, and lectured twice. There is a small society in this village, and two brother preachers are residing near by—W. Brise and G. S. Ayers. It is to be hoped they will hereafter devote more of their time to the ministry.

October 20th. Lectured in Unionville twice, and once in the neighborhood; and the next day was conveyed by a friend to Lancaster, twenty miles still farther onward, where I also spoke twice. The next day, rode to Memphis, or rather rode and walked, twenty-five miles, where I spoke twice, and once in the country. From thence was conveyed by a friend to Bentonsport, Iowa, where I took the cars and went home.

I recently heard a discourse by one of our ministers, and he gave Orthodoxy an awful cudgeling. I do not like that kind of preaching. It is too much of the meat-axe order. The christian minister should preach the gospel in all its fulness—present it in its doctrinal, moral, and spiritual aspect. But cutting, slashing, and banging, at this creed, and that creed, at this sect and that sect, is not exactly preaching the gospel. It may be the minister’s duty, now and then, under peculiar circumstances, to handle other creeds without gloves; but let him remember and do his duty in this respect in a loving spirit. But there should be but little of this kind of controversial sermonizing. Telling people of the beauty and glory of truth and virtue, and urging a practical knowledge of the same, is far better than to be fighting Orthodoxy. It must be admitted, that some of the fathers of our denomination, in this respect, have set a bad example. They had too much of the Ishmaelite spirit, and many of us have imbibed of it copiously. True, they were assailed by slander and falsehood, in private and in public, at home and abroad, when they went in, and when they went out; and it required a copious infusion of the Divine Spirit to be perfect lambs under such circumstances. And our people in the West and South, especially the ministers, are still pursued with the same maliciousness, injustice and cruelty, and it requires remarkable good nature to be thus treated without striking back. But some of us have rather overdone this matter of “using up” Orthodoxy. Not, it is to be hoped, that we have been actuated by the fiendish spirit of some of our enemies, but we spend too much precious time, and waste too much material, on their creeds. Better present the truth in its native beauty and grace, and the world will soon fall in love with it, and take it to it’s heart.

I had been at home but a few days, when I was called to the southern part of Illinois, to deliver two funeral discourses. One of them was on the occasion of the death of Mrs. Middleworth, an estimable woman, cut down in the vigor of womanhood, and in the midst of usefulness. A large number attended the service; some came as far as fifteen miles. Surely, if ever we need consolation, it is when death enters our abode, and snatches therefrom a dear friend. Sensitive ties are then severed, and affection’s nerves receive a dreadful shock. The death of a friend is like an untimely frost on an orange grove; it may indeed kill but one, but it blights the whole grove. But death is no new thing under the sun. For six thousand years mankind have been dying. It is estimated that sixty persons die every minute. Every hour in the day, week, month, year, century, thousands of human beings breathe their last breath, and heave their last sigh. All over the world are dying scenes, and funeral scenes. An army of the living are employed to bury an army of the dead. And this sad work has been going on for sixty centuries.

How true are the words of the wise man: “One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh.” Death and the grave are never satisfied. The high and the low, the old and the young, the saint and the sinner, must alike be prostrated in death when the king of terror hurls his unerring dart. As ocean wave succeeds wave, so generation of men succeed generation, and each in its turn is borne to, and dashes and dies upon the fearful shore of time. Every thing on earth speaks of mutation and death. The lofty marble monument, erected to commemorate human genius; the stately palace of wealth, pomp and greatness, are being crumbled to dust by the busy and untiring hand of time. Saith the Bible, “All flesh is grass.” As the grass withereth, and the flower fadeth, so with mortal man. The decree has gone forth from the court of heaven, and cannot be revoked, “Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” No appeal is admitted; no reversal of the judgment need be expected. Die we all must! But how little is this dreadful fact realized by many! How many spend life as if they believed it would never end! To the accumulation of earthly treasures, or the advancement of ambitious schemes, multitudes devote all their energy, all their talent, all their precious time. Unwise men! God made us for more noble pursuits; and he who devotes all of life’s blessed moments to the accumulation of earth’s perishable treasures, answers not to the end of his being, is not a friend to himself, but rather his own greatest enemy.

But when the decrees of the Almighty shall be executed; when dust shall have returned to dust, and ashes to ashes, shall we be no more forever? Will death never yield his prey? Shall we share the fate of the beetle and the worm? Will the tender ties of love and affection, which are severed by the cold hand of death, with weeping eyes and bleeding heart, never be reunited? And when we consign our dear friends to the grave, shall we never more behold them? Never more enjoy their society, which society made a heaven of earth? And when we shall bid farewell to earth, and close our eyes in death, shall we be annihilated? Some there are, who answer these important questions in the affirmative. Some there are, who tell us, that death is an eternal sleep, that the grave and the worm will devour our all; that we are like the bubble on the wide ocean, seen for a moment, and then disappear to be known no more forever. But thank God, we have reason to hope for better things. We have reason to hope that there is a life beyond this life, a world beyond this world, where friends will meet, where the great family of God will meet, to part no more; that on the blissful plains of immortality, the severed links of humanity will be welded in an immortal chain, never more to be severed.

While in the neighborhood where this service was held, I delivered two other discourses, to great congregations. From thence I went to Dudley, and delivered another funeral discourse, on the occasion of the death of Mrs. Sutherland, a devoted believer in our most holy faith, and an excellent woman. It is sometimes said by the opposers of the Great Salvation, that it is good to live by, but not to die by. But it seems to me, that what is good to live by, must be good to die by, for what prepares us to live, prepares us to die. When the opposer tells me, that my religion “is good to live by,” I thank him for such testimony in its favor; but I cannot return the compliment, cannot admit that his creed, let it be what it may, if it denies the essential features of the Restitution, “is good to live by.” Is Atheism, which denies a God, and orphanizes the world, “good to live by?” Is Deism, that denies a Savior, and doubts an hereafter, “good to live by?” Is Partialism, that represents God as cruel, revengeful and unjust; as loving some and hating others; blessing some and cursing others, world without end, “good to live by?” Men can live with such creeds in their heads, as they can live on horse ham and mule stake; but it is living at a poor dying rate.

But then, this faith so full of grace “is not good to die by.” But why not? It represents God as a universal Father, Christ a universal Savior, and heaven the home to which all are tending. Is not faith in such a God, such a Savior, and such a Destiny, good in the hour of death? The truth is, nothing but this can afford peace and consolation in that dark and solemn hour. Atheism, Deism, Partialism, are found wanting in man’s dying moments, as when in the possession of health and vigor. True, many close their eyes in death with blissful hopes, who do not accept the faith of God’s Universal Grace, and for this reason—in their dying hour they gaze entirely on the bright side of their creed, for it has a bright side as well as a dark side. They think they can read their “title clear to mansions in the skies,” hence depart in peace. But if they looked for an instant on the dark side of their faith; if they considered that they may be mistaken with regard to their own salvation, and instead of going to heaven may go to hell. And then, around their dying couch are their near and dear friends; and for aught they know, all of them in a few years will be lifting up their eyes in eternal torment, and begging for a drop of water to cool their flaming tongues—if the dying deemed this possible, and it is possible if Orthodoxy is true, would not the thought turn joy into the bitterest sorrow, and songs of praise into howls of despair? But the truth is adapted to all stages and conditions of humanity. It is our counselor, guide, and hope, in the strength and vigor of manhood; our staff in sickness and old age; our all when our eyes are closing in death, and the grave is opening at our feet.

After speaking in five other places in the south part of the state, I returned home; and had been there but two days, when a telegraphic despatch summoned me to attend the funeral of Mrs. Jameson, in Marshall county, Ill., over one hundred miles distant. When turning away from her grave, her husband remarked: “There is buried one of the best women that ever lived.” That is the best eulogy that can be pronounced over the grave of the dead. The departed suffered for months, by day and by night, the most excruciating physical agony, but not a murmur dropped from her lips. She knew that sickness was unto death, and she welcomed the approach of the angel of deliverance. A good life and a christian faith, are blessed friends in the sunset of life. As I am writing about the last page of this book, a letter, with a black border, from a woman in Missouri is received, announcing the death of her husband, and requesting me to attend his funeral. It was his desire, she writes, that I should do so, and I must respect his dying wish.

The common view of death, I am satisfied, is too dark and gloomy. When we look upon the cold and rigid form, the closed eyes and pale brow, of the dead, a sense of gloom, and a vague feeling of fear comes over us; but we should remember, that the being that lately animated that now lifeless body, is a resident of the “house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” But we are oppressed too much by what we see, and have not faith enough in the reality of a life in heaven. And hence it is, that in the chamber of death, at the time of the Holy Passover, bitter sobbings are heard, in the place of song of rejoicing; and hence it is that the coffin, our second cradle, is followed to the grave by those who are arrayed in gloomy habiliments expressive of grief and sorrow. To those who have passed into the house of “many mansions,” death must appear in a very different light. The two grand eras in our life below, its beginning and its close, birth and death, must be viewed by them as really beautiful and equally divine. The departed know by experience what death is. They have tasted the cup, and know that it contains, not a poisonous draught, but the wine of life. They know that this is a world of shadows, not the world above.

When the hour of death arrives, the couch of the dying is surrounded by invisible friends, as by those who still abide in the flesh; and one hand of the dying is held by those to whom he is now to bid adieu; and the other is taken by those whom the eye of flesh can no longer see. “On the one side, there is weeping and almost despair; on the other, the joyful hymn of welcome. Surely tears are a relief to men in this mortal state; and I would not even seem to say that they are wrong. I say only this, that the occasion of our most intense grief, would be no occasion of grief, were death understood by us as it is by those who know by experience—by that holy experience—what it is. Were we able to follow, with open eyes, those who are dear to us, as they pass away, and see them as they are in the Better Land, and know how they are surrounded and employed, we should not mourn as we now do when friends depart, nor should we feel any temptation thus to mourn, and the fear of death would be wholly unknown to us.”

This, I believe, to be the correct view of death; and its general prevalence would dispel the gloom that now hangs over the grave, and save the world many tears and griefs. The day will come when the inhabitants of the earth, having a proper estimate of death, and the hereafter, will wonder that we regarded death with the gloomy apprehension we do. When that day blesses the world, there will be no more death, as most of mankind now regard it.

To conclude: I have innumerable reasons to be grateful to Almighty God, that I have lived so long, enjoyed almost uninterrupted good health, had so many friends, and been permitted to labor in the gospel ministry. Truly, the Lord has blessed me all the days of my life. I have never had but two spells of sickness, and they were induced by hard labor in hot weather. Notwithstanding my extensive traveling, I have never met with the slightest accident, and I have journeyed by sea and land, in sailing vessels and steamboats, on railroads and on horseback, in stages, and in wagons of all descriptions. Have traveled in dangerous localities by day and by night, but a penknife is the largest weapon I ever carried. One more personal remark—I never snuffed, chewed, or smoked tobacco; neither did I ever poison my body or my soul with a glass of liquor—do not know whisky from brandy, and do not covet the knowledge.

Transcriber’s Notes:

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.

Punctuation has been made consistent.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

The following changes were made:

p. 107: as inserted (now as it was)

p. 110: partially obscured word mporal assumed to be temporal (in temporal ruin.)

p. 299: art changed to act (the act of)