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.”