THE WAITING-TIME
The Cane Ridge revival of the August before had been followed by many
others of a similar nature throughout the country. Although there was
much that was fanatical and grotesque in these meetings, much good was
undoubtedly accomplished. With all the fanaticism, there was in them
the wholesome leaven of gospel truth which did much to arouse the
churches from their deathlike indifference. Better than this, the
revivals were a bond of union between the different religious sects;
for, in the prevalence of enthusiasm, even such rigid upholders of
creed as Gilcrest and Landrum felt more concern about the salvation of
their children than about the tenets of their church. In fact, from the
beginning of the awakening, Books of Discipline and Confessions of
Faith had been gathering dust, and soon would have been completely lost
to view, had not the more strenuous churchmen at last in alarm put
forth their hands to stay their tottering ark of creed, mistaking it
for the ark of God. But though for a time the orthodox element held its
peace, apparently well pleased to see members of other denominations
joining cordially in the revivals, each sect finally became fearful
lest other churches might draw away disciples from its own ranks. The
tocsin was sounded, "'To your tents, O Israel!' Our creed is in
jeopardy! There must be no more union meetings!" Thus the old
denominational war waged with renewed fierceness.
Though Barton Stone was, like John, gentle and tender, yet he was also,
like Paul, ready at need to wield the double-edged sword of logic and
truth to cut down sophistry and combat unbelief. Therefore, to those
dominated by sectarianism, as well as to the indifferent and the
scoffer, his work was unacceptable; but between the high-water mark of
orthodoxy and the low-water mark of willful unbelief, there were many
who heard him gladly.
His June appointment at Cane Ridge was an occasion never to be
forgotten by those present. Indeed, his sermon that day was well
calculated to make the more orthodox members of the congregation writhe
in their seats.
He chose as his text the familiar sixteenth verse of the third chapter
of John, announcing at the same time that his topics would be God's
love as manifested in the gift of his Son; the gospel, the power of God
unto salvation; faith, the first requisite, which all who willed might
have.
Stone began by portraying, forcibly and tenderly, the love of God,
emphasizing the fact that "he willed not that one of his creatures
should perish." His love included the whole world, and Christ, instead
of being surety for an elect few only, had satisfied the demands of the
Father's love by dying for all mankind. Thus "by the righteousness of
one the free gift came upon all men unto justification," and Christ, by
office, became the Saviour, not of a few only, but of all who would
accept him.
He said that the only way to reconcile the two passages of Scripture,
John 6:44 and John 12:32, was to believe that the Father recognized no
other means of drawing men to him than that of holding up his Son in
the gospel; and that, therefore, all who believed on Christ and
received the Word were elected to salvation.
Stone next pointed out what he considered to be a marked contrast
between the teachings of the Scriptures and that of the Confession of
Faith of his church upon this point. He then spoke of regeneration, or
the "new birth," and said that the declaration, "born not of
corruptible seed, but of incorruptible by the word of God," showed
clearly that the Word must first be believed in order to produce this
effect; consequently, faith preceded regeneration. Furthermore, this
faith was wrought in the heart by no outside or miraculous influence,
but was freely given to all who would believe. He explained the
passage, "Faith is the gift of God," by saying that the object of
faith, "the man, Christ Jesus," is the gift of God.
A strange sermon, indeed, to be preached at that time, to such a
people, by an ordained minister of the Presbyterian Church! As he
spoke, several of the staunch supporters of orthodoxy shook their
heads, and looked frowningly at the daring young preacher. Many
recalled an incident of his ordination in that very house three years
before. Stone, who had long entertained doubts upon the doctrines of
predestination, regeneration and effectual calling, as set forth in the
Confession of Faith of his church, had, on the day before the one set
for his ordination, called aside two of the pillars of the Transylvania
Presbytery, and with characteristic honesty had made known to them his
difficulties. After laboring in vain to remove his doubts, the two men
asked him how far he was willing to receive the Confession. "So far as
I see it to be consistent with the word of God," was the answer, which
they declared to be sufficient. No objection was raised to his answer
when given before the presbytery the next day, and, after making
satisfactory replies to all other questions propounded, he was
ordained.
When Stone had finished his discourse, he called upon Gilcrest to lead
in prayer. With an angry shake of his head, and a frown upon his stern
features, the old man declined. Old Brother Landrum was then asked to
pray. In a voice which shook with emotion, he besought pardon for the
error in the sermon just heard and enlightenment for the mind of the
preacher that he might have a better understanding of the mysteries of
the gospel. When he began further to petition that the Lord would in
his own good time and way manifest himself to the unconverted elect in
the congregation, he was interrupted by David Purviance: "Not to the
elect alone, O Lord," he prayed, "but unto all--all within these walls;
for thou, O God, art no respecter of persons, and salvation is free,
free to all who will accept!"
Notwithstanding the evident disapproval of some of his flock, Stone
continued to preach sermons of a like nature. A few who heard him were
stunned by his boldness and shocked by his ruthless defiance of the
established order of things. Others found his words forcibly
convincing. Still another class, though not exactly understanding his
reasoning, had so great love for the young preacher and so great
confidence in his ability that they were his warm advocates. Of this
blindly trustful number, none were stouter in their adherence than
Mason Rogers.
To Hiram Gilcrest these sermons seemed the undermining, blowing up and
pulverization of the whole structure of sound doctrine. One day, in the
course of a discussion with Mason Rogers, Gilcrest angrily maintained
not only that the church should take action against their minister, but
that his transgressions should be reported at the next meeting of the
synod. Rogers, of course, defended Stone. Hot words ensued on both
sides, and the friendly relations between the two old neighbors were
somewhat strained.
One afternoon Gilcrest, who was so full of the subject of the parson's
iniquities that he could think or speak of little else, encountered
Dudley, to whom in no measured terms he denounced Stone. Abner would
gladly have avoided argument with Gilcrest upon any subject, and
especially upon this, which he felt did not concern himself personally;
but Gilcrest was not to be evaded.
"You know, Major Gilcrest," said Dudley at last, "that I'm not a
church-member, and therefore it is not fitting for me to discuss the
question."
"No matter," answered Gilcrest; "you're a man and capable of reasoning,
and can surely see the fallacy of this fellow's doctrine."
"But Stone is a personal friend of mine," Abner urged.
"What of that?" asked Hiram. "It's not the man, but his doctrine, that
I abhor."
Thus driven to bay, Abner had no alternative but to reply that from
what he could learn by his own study of the Bible, Stone seemed to be
right. This was literally throwing down the gauntlet to Gilcrest, and
the discussion waxed hot and stormy.
"This is a fine way to win the daughter--to be locking horns with the
father in theological combat," Dudley soliloquized ruefully as Gilcrest
rode off; but he laughed, too, as he thought how little like one "saved
by grace" and "sanctified by the Spirit" the old man had appeared as,
with frowning brow, loud voice and vehement gesticulation, he had
stormed and raved against the offending Stone. "What a fool the old
fellow did make of himself," thought Abner; "but not a bigger one than
myself, considering all things. 'Never discuss theology with your
intended father-in-law,' is a safe maxim for lovers to follow."
Later in the summer, Abner Dudley received from his uncle, Dr. Richard
Dudley, of Williamsburg, intelligence of a surprising nature; namely,
that an uncle of Abner's mother, Andrew Hite, of Sterling County,
Virginia, had died, leaving a will by which Abner was heir to all his
worldly possessions.
Richard Dudley urged upon Abner the necessity of coming at once to
Virginia in regard to this inheritance. Accordingly, Abner, merely
telling the Rogers family that he was summoned to Virginia on important
business, set out one August afternoon. He went first to Lexington, and
from there on horseback to Limestone. His companions on this horseback
ride of sixty-five miles were Judge Benjamin Sebastian and Judge
William Murray, against whom Hiram Gilcrest had seen fit to warn him.
Nothing, however, of the negotiations and intrigues in which Sebastian
and Murray may or may not have been concerned, had at this time been
made public; and young Dudley saw no reason why the mere suspicions of
so prejudiced a man as Hiram Gilcrest should deter him from accepting
the company of two such agreeable men.
Soon after taking the boat at Limestone, Sebastian and Murray told
Abner that they intended spending the night at the island home of
Harman Blennerhassett, and urged him to do likewise. He readily
accepted; for he had heard of this secluded island paradise with its
romantic surroundings, beautiful grounds and vast library, and of the
gracious hospitality of the scholarly Irish recluse and his charming
wife. He found the home and his host and hostess all that had been
reported, and greatly enjoyed his little visit. The next day, leaving
Sebastian and Murray still guests of the Blennerhassetts, Dudley
continued his journey by boat to Pittsburg, and thence by horseback
across Virginia to Williamsburg.