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.
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 theGlad 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 theGlad 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 Westthento the Westnow. Never sinceearth’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 immortalsouls. 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 sinnow.”
“What do you preach for?”
“To reform such men asyou. 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 aboutlove? and what does your fiery creed know aboutlove? But you know whathatemeans, 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 goodto 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 begood, much less,infinitelygood. Goodness seeks thewelfare, not theruin, 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 onlyof 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 Ishouldpreach 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 aperfectsalvation. 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 theirsins.’ Matt. i. 21. ‘Behold the Lamb ofGod, who taketh away thesinof 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 hisiniquities.’ Acts iii. 25. ‘There shall come out of Zion the deliverer, who shall turn awayungodlinessfrom Jacob; for this is the covenant unto them, when I shall take away theirsins.’ Rom. xi. 27. ‘There is nocondemnationto them that are in Christ Jesus.’ Rom. viii. 1. ‘Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from alliniquity, and purify unto himself a people zealous of good works.’ Titus ii. 14. ‘Because the creature [meaning mankind] shall be delivered from thebondage of corruption into the glorious libertyof 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 fromhell.”
“The only passage in the Bible where deliverance from hell is spoken of reads thus:—‘For great is thy mercy towards me; and thou hastdelivered my soul from the lowest hell.’ Psalms lxvi. 13. Here is hell, thelowest hell, and the writer speaks of salvation from it; but this hell is on earth, and the deliverance is apresentdeliverance. 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 ofmoral 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 iswithinour 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 aheaven. 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 aPaganand I was aChristian; I believed inoneGod, and he, at least, intwo—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, andMr. Tizard and George Rogers were publishing theStar in the West. Cincinnati then contained only twenty-five thousand inhabitants, but now its population is fully two hundred thousand. Still, it was thenthecity 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 greatgrowers. 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 oneof 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 occupiedin 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.