02.A15. Protracted Inquiries After The Mystery

CHAPTER XV.

PROTRACTED INQUIRIES AFTER THE MYSTERY OF THE HIDDEN LIVE.

UNDER the influence of this sentiment, I entered upon the most careful inquiries after "the hidden mystery" of the divine life. In my researches into the Scriptures, "a veil" was upon my heart -- the veil of false doctrines and false interpretations of the Word of God in regard to the condition and privileges of believers in this life -- a veil which must be "rent from top to bottom" before "the way into the holiest of all can be made manifest" to the inquirer after "the things which. are freely given us of God." This veil for years, notwithstanding my careful and prayerful study of the Scriptures, darkened my apprehensions of what now appears as the plainest teachings and "first principles of the oracles of God." How plainly marked are these "first principles," "the sincere milk of the Word," in partaking of which the convert cannot but grow up into the stature of a perfected manhood in Christ Jesus! "So foolish was I and ignorant," that years of painful research passed before I "looked into the perfect law of liberty." My Biblical researches, however, were not in vain. I early became absolutely convinced that there are most distinctly revealed, whatever my views about the sinfulness of all believers in this life, "better things" than the ministry and churches around had attained to -- "better things," towards which their poor experiences had hardly approached. Instead of there being among us "no sickly nor feeble ones," almost all in common appeared to be smitten with a kind of spiritual paralysis. The "feeble among us were not as David," always conquerors; nor was "the house of David," the leaders of the sacramental host, "as God, as the angel of the Lord before Him," nor was holiness unto the Lord "upon "the bells of our horses." We were not "filled with all the fulness of God." nor was "He doing for us exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think." If the promises do not authorise us to expect all that they seem to pledge to our faith, they certainly do require us to ask and receive more than we do obtain. Such were the conclusions forced upon my mind by the careful study of the revealed provisions and promises of grace. With special interest did I study the recorded experiences and attainments of the apostles and their associates. There all was in palpable contrast with what was passing in the interior of my own mind, and what I saw around me. They "mounted up on wings as eagles," while "our souls could neither fly nor go to reach eternal joys." They ran without weariness, while we fainted in walking. They were "careful for nothing," while we were "careful and troubled about many things." They had "learned in whatever state they were therewith to be content," while we were "weary, tossed with tempest, and not comforted." They "rejoiced evermore," and that "with joy unspeakable and full of glory," while we talked, and sang, and prayed, and inquired after "the blessedness we knew when first we saw the Lord." They were possessed of "full assurance of hope," "full assurance of faith," and "full assurance of understanding," and of God "as their everlasting light;" while we were perturbed with doubts and fears, and "walked in darkness, and had no light." In view of such palpable facts and revelations, I was accustomed to say to myself: -- I know that myself and believers around me have diverged somewhere from "the highway of holiness," and are walking in a dim twilight, when we should be "walking in the light of God," with no clouds between us and the Sun of Righteousness. I know that there is a secret about "the life of God in the soul of man," a secret not yet revealed to me, but which would be manifested, if "I should wait for the vision, while it tarried."

I made, also, the most careful inquiries of the most spiritual believers, ministers and others, that I met with, about this one subject. As soon as I met my old friend, Professor Finney, whom I had not seen for years, I made the most earnest and diligent inquiries of him. I found all, however, in the same darkness on this vital question that I was.

I finally took up the memoirs of the holiest persons I heard of -- memoirs of such individuals as David Brainard, Edward Payson, and others, and read them for one exclusive purpose -- the discovery of the one secret under consideration. I arose from the perusal of such books with bitter disappointment. These men of God had the same difficulties in their experiences that I had, the same struggles and defeats, the same ignorance of God as their "everlasting light," the same absence of "the rest of faith," and the same ignorance of the remedy to the evils which pressed upon them, and of the divine secret after which I was inquiring. This consolation remained to alleviate the disappointment referred to: -- If these men, with myself, and all with whom I conversed, have failed to discover this "hidden mystery," Paul, and Peter, and John did know it, and what God revealed to them He will make known to me, if I faint not in my inquiries and in prayer. "Faint, yet pursuing," was my continued maxim. "Yes," I would exclaim, "in due time I shall reap, if I faint not." But for the reason that what follows next in order is requisite to a full understanding of these facts of my own interior life -- facts tending to throw light upon the conditions of attaining to a full fruition of "the liberty of the sons of God," -- I should omit the remainder of the present chapter, there being the appearance of a desire for self-glorification, seeking which all should regard as a grievous sin against God. What I am to state, however, are merely certain facts of plain Christian fidelity -- facts occurring in circumstances which then "tried men’s souls." The fidelity manifested by myself was common with thousands of ministers who stood by God’s truth, and vindicated the rights of His poor, in that "evil day."

Immediately after I became pastor of one of the Presbyterian churches in Cincinnati, Ohio, the Anti-Slavery agitation began to move the whole American mind. Such was the all-pervading influence of the Southern States at the time, however, that a vast majority of even our Northern population, including that of the ministry and membership of our churches, took open ground against the agitation; the opposition, also, taking on the most embittered form conceivable, an open determination being everywhere avowed to put down the disturbance even by mob violence. These were the days in which Pro-Slavery Mobs occurred in such cities as Boston and New York, and the martyr Lovejoy was murdered in cold blood in the State of Illinois.

Immediately after my removal to Cincinnati, I was elected a trustee and member of the Prudential Board of the trustees of Lane Seminary, a theological institution on the hills that overlooked the city. In the upbuilding of that institution, and in securing for it the services of the celebrated Rev. Lyman Beecher, D.D., as its president and professor of theology, I took a very active part, having drafted the letter afterwards published in the Doctor’s Memoirs, the letter addressed by the trustees of the Seminary to his church in Boston, to persuade them to consent, for the sake of higher interests, to part with their beloved pastor. The coming of such a man, with an able corps of associates, drew, almost at once, to the institution a large number of students from all parts of the country. Of these young men, Dr. Beecher, on a visit to the Eastern States, stated publicly that he had never in his life known so large a body of young men among whom there was such an amount of talent and piety. On coming to the institution, a very large portion of the students connected themselves with my church, and attended upon my ministry, very few of them joining any other church in the city. Such facts brought me visibly into very direct and influential relations with the Seminary. The second year of Dr. Beecher’s administration, by consent of the Faculty, the students held a discussion of a week’s continuance on the then all-agitating subject of slavery. The result of that discussion was, that, with very few exceptions, those students became avowed abolitionists, and organised themselves into a society for the promotion of their sentiments. Among the young men who joined this society were a number from the Southern States, two of them sons of a distinguished Presbyterian minister in the State of Alabama. All such individuals, as they were well aware, were, by the position they had assumed, self-banished from their native States and their homes, it being certain that their lives would have been taken had they ventured even to visit their parents. The facts above stated, as they were noised abroad through the papers, startled the nation, and threw the city into the most violent agitation. By men of the highest standing, the levelling of the institution to the ground was openly spoken of, while my visible connection with the students centered public reprobation upon myself. To indicate somewhat the extent and violence of that reprobation, I would give the following statement. As our two little daughters, one five and the other three years of age, were upon the side-walks, they were stoned, and obliged to flee for their lives -- were stoned, I say, by the children in the streets, because their father was an abolitionist. For months, when we lay down at night, we did so apprehending that our dwelling might be mobbed before morning. Under such circumstances, the Faculty of the Seminary called the students together, and entreated them to quiet the public agitation by disbanding their anti-slavery organisation, and refraining from all public discussions of the subject. The young men were told that their principles were right, and their spirit worthy of all commendation. It was unwise for them, however, to take public grounds so far in advance of public sentiment. "I have ever," said one of the most influential members of the Faculty, "made this a fixed principle of my life, never to become the open advocate of any cause until public sentiment has become sufficiently advanced to sustain me in the position I have taken; and I urge you, young gentlemen, to act upon the same principle in the case before you." The students did not accept such counsels as wise and prudent, however, and did not dissolve their society.

Before the mob of the city was organised, the, spring and summer vacation, of three months’ continuance occurred, and the Faculty, all but one, went to the East, and the students dispersed; myself, on a four weeks’ vacation, visiting my friends in western New York. During this interval, I had a full opportunity to judge of my situation, and calculate my future. But a few weeks before, the terrible Pro-Slavery Mobs had occurred in the city of New York, and everywhere public sentiment burned with the intensest indignation against the abolitionists. I said to myself distinctly: "If I identify myself with truth and right and God’s poor and oppressed ones, as I must do, or violate my conscience and the will of my Divine Sovereign, I shall lose my place as pastor in Cincinnati. In that case, no important church in the country will be open to me. I shall, consequently, be necessitated to spend my life as pastor of some obscure church in the country." Such were the facts as they then presented themselves to my mind. I did not hesitate, but determined to accept the consequences of "serving God with a pure conscience." I claim to have done nothing more than, as I have said, a common Christian duty, and what thousands of my associates in the ministry would have done in my circumstances, and, in substance, did in theirs. With such apprehensions distinctly before my mind, I returned to my people in the city, where many had said that I would never dare to show my face again -- I, in my absence, refusing to preach as a candidate in one of the most important churches in the portion of the country I visited, and that for the reason that I was sure that no man with my sentiments could then be settled over any such church. I had been at home but a few hours, when I received a notice to attend a meeting of the Prudential Committee of the Seminary. At this meeting a code of laws for the Seminary was submitted, a code dissolving the Anti-Slavery Society among the students, prohibiting public, and even private, discussions of slavery on their part. The clause prohibiting private conversation upon the subject was omitted from the code as finally passed by the trustees. A clause more arbitrary than this was inserted -- a clause giving the Prudential Committee absolute power to turn any student out of the Seminary when they should think it necessary so to do -- a clause which was inserted for the openly avowed purpose of preventing the return of certain of the most prominent and able advocates of the anti-slavery cause. It was this clause which opened the eyes of the public to the monstrous character of the whole code, and secured an extensive sympathy with the students. When the vote on the code was about to be put, I, for the purpose of gaining time, remarked that we had no power to pass any laws whatever, this power being exclusively lodged with the trustees. This was assented to, and the committee adjourned, with the avowed determination that a meeting of the trustees should be called as soon as allowable.

I at once sent a letter to Dr. Beecher, informing him of what was being done, and urging him to return at once with his associates, and prevent the impending evils, as I was sure that the Seminary would be dismantled should any such code as was being proposed be adopted. None of the Faculty returned, however -- Dr. Beecher even stopping in the interior of the State of Ohio until after the trustees had acted. When the Board met, I was, against my choice, compelled to take a stand more publicly and openly than I had ever done before. I must acquiesce in, or protest against, a code of laws which my conscience and judgment reprobated as opposed to the inalienable rights of human nature, to public morals, and the interests of humanity -- a code which prohibited candidates for the Christian ministry from all concerted discussion and action in respect to fundamental questions concerning the rights of prostrate and downtrodden human nature. At the meeting of the Board, the statement was openly made that, at the anniversaries at the East, a consultation had been held by the leading presidents and officers of colleges and theological seminaries East and West, and it had been unanimously agreed among them, that in them all laws like those then before that Board should be passed, and that they were waiting our action. As I heard that announcement, this thought passed through my own mind: "The first institution that shall pass such laws must be crushed; that will deter the others." When my course relatively to these laws become known, my separation from the fellowship of the ministry and membership of all the churches, my own excepted, and from the common civilities of the people of the city, became, as I expected it would, complete. Outside this one circle, there was in the city none so poor as to show me common respect. At this time, our Methodist brethren held a camp-meeting some twenty-five to thirty miles from the city, and that upon ground where they had, prior to this, held similar meetings for many years in succession. At this meeting the ministry found themselves utterly powerless to move at all the vast congregation before them. After consultation they sent for me, they being aware of the power which God had before given me on such occasions. As I took my stand, on my arrival, in the presence of the vast crowd before me, a consciousness of divine power came over me of which I had never had an experience before. During the progress of the discourse the hearts of the crowd were moved by the power of the truth and of the Spirit, "as the trees of the wood are moved by the wind." At the close of the discourse, sinners of all classes, and in astonishing numbers crowded to the places of inquiry. The whole following night was spent by ministers, without sleep at all, in directing inquirers to Christ, and a revival of religion occurred which is spoken of by people in the city and all that region to this day. When I witnessed these results, this sentiment forced itself upon my mind: "He always wins who sides with God," and always wins such victories as his heart most desires. During one of the intervals of worship, I retired into the forest for personal meditation and prayer. While there, with a sense of painful loneliness and isolation which it is impossible to describe, I lifted my eyes and heart above, and said in words to my Father in heaven, that "I was willing, if need be, to be alone and to be despised in the world; but there was one thing that I did desire, and would venture to ask: that I might be conscious that my heart was pure in His sight, that I might see God, and live and walk in the manifested light of His countenance. If God would grant me this one infinite good," I added, "I would accept of any burdens or afflictions that He might lay upon me." That was the distinctly uttered vow which I took with me from that forest. I have passed through heated furnaces and deep waters since that time, but have never taken back or regretted that vow. The brightness of the final "rising of the Sun of Righteousness" did not come at that moment. The era was very near, however, when "God did become my everlasting light, and the days of my mourning were ended." When the students returned to the Seminary, they met in the chapel, and sent a committee to the Faculty, requesting that the new code of laws might be read and expounded to them. When this was done, and the privilege of discussing among themselves the character of the laws was positively denied them, absolute submission or a departure from the institution being demanded, one of the young men rose and said, "We may have, at least, this privilege, to say openly, as a body, whether we will or will not submit to these laws. I therefore request every student who will, with me, refuse such submission, and request of the Faculty a dismission from the institution, to rise to his feet." All but about one dozen arose, and having received their dismission, left. A wealthy citizen, a brother-in-law of the late Chief-Justice Chase, promptly furnished the seceders comfortable accommodation a few miles out of the city, and the great philanthropist, Arthur Tappan of New York city, sent five thousand dollars in money to aid them in prosecuting their studies in their new location. In a few weeks these young men were quietly pursuing their studies, while the Faculty of Lane Seminary were alone, presiding over a dismantled institution. No other college or seminary followed the example of that one in passing laws to suppress among students the discussion of the great moral and religious questions of the age. The January following, 1835, I received an appointment to the presidency of Oberlin College, and during the progress of that year, I found myself at the head of an institution with about five hundred students in attendance, with the students who had left Lane Seminary and others pursuing their theological studies under Professor Finney as their professor of theology, and Professor Morgan, who had been dismissed from Lane Seminary on account of his anti-slavery principles, as their professor of Biblical literature. Oberlin College is the first institution of the class that opened its doors wide for the education of humanity, without distinction of race, colour, or sex. "He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee."

I have this to record about my church in Cincinnati: Most of its members, upwards of two hundred in number, were converts under my ministry, their number being but sixteen when I became their pastor. During the period to which I have referred, those older members and young disciples stood around their pastor like a Spartan phalanx, and were about to add two hundred dollars to my salary when I was called from them. Some time after I left, they called as their pastor one of the most open and fearless abolitionists in the United States, and stood by him, as they had done by me, until he, Dr. Blanchard, was called to the presidency of an important college in the State of Illinois. I never doubted the revelation of God, that "godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life than now is, as well as of that which is to come."