This was the first time he had spoken in public, and though the object of his remark was merely to furnish a gentlemanly apology for being present, it caused the religious people much joy, as they saw him sit down in tears; and ever after his companions regarded him differently, all of whom were startled with surprise, and some wept as they heard his words.
"One of my young friends, a respectable young man, conversed with me on the subject. I stated to him all I had said, and in part I manifested my feelings to him with some degree of boldness. He expressed a fear that I would become deluded, though, by the way, he had never manifested a fear of the kind when we used to dance, play cards, and spend the Sabbath together in the reading of novels. 'About the things of religion,' said he, 'it is not well to be in haste. It is a subject which needs the greatest deliberation.' With this I agreed. He further remarked, 'If a person thinks of such things, it is not best to give expression to such thoughts, because people will talk about it, and you,' continued he, 'are already a subject of conversation. Many are concerned for you, and wish your society, and you know it is a disgrace for us to go among those foolish and ignorant Methodists.' By these remarks, coming from a particular friend, I was embarrassed, but soon learned that I must leave all, and part with my dearest companions for Christ; that two masters it was impossible to serve; and in my indecision I seemed to hear a voice as from heaven, saying, 'Choose ye this day whom ye will serve,' impressing my mind with the idea that then was the time for me to secure an interest in the Great Redeemer. Great things of eternity were continually resting on my mind; the saints, as they had opportunity, began to talk with me, of which I was glad, though to them I did not say much, as I was resolved that others should not know my feelings; even if I were ever so happy as to feel my sins forgiven, I was determined not to say much about it to others, and certainly not to make such an ado over it as many did.
"I was in search for a great and sudden change. About August 1st, 1811, I felt impressed to retire and unbosom myself to the Eternal God, and cry once more for mercy. Walking through the woods to a large valley, I there, by a murmuring brook, fell on my knees and gave vent to my burdened heart in prayer. For a moment my soul felt delivered of all her griefs, and for a few moments I sung and praised God in that delightful place with all my heart; but doubts arose, and as I cast over the scene the eyes of reason, my little heaven vanished, and I remained in silence. I began to fear that I was walking by the light of imagination, and was warming myself by sparks of my own kindling.
"I began to be more familiar with the saints, sometimes revealing to them in part my determinations, and always gaining strength by so doing. I had not the same consciousness of sin as before. At times, before I was aware of it, my mind would be soaring above on heavenly things; the Scriptures would beautifully open to my mind, and glorious would seem the things of religion; yet I scarcely dared to rejoice. I derived much benefit and instruction from the conversation of the saints, and though I asked their prayers, I neither united with them in prayer, nor kneeled according to their custom. The narrated experience of others aided me some, and as all my Christian friends advised me to pray, I again kneeled in the solitude of nature to invoke divine aid, when the reflection that I was in the presence of an Omnipotent God sealed my lips in silence. Almost fearing that my performances were but mockery, I felt inclined to despair. The next day gleams of hope entered my mind; and on Sunday, hearing many speak of the power of God, and of trials they had passed through, in a manner, some of them, that exactly expressed my feelings, I took courage, because there were others in whose Christianity I had confidence, who felt in some respects as I did. Moved, as I think, by the Spirit of God, and from a high state of mental resolve, I arose and told the assembly that I was determined to seek my happiness in religion, in which alone I believed it could be found. Many of the saints praised God aloud, and my soul was filled with joy and peace that were unspeakable. My love to the faithful was far superior to anything that ever before had dilated my heart. On my return home the very winds that waved the trees, and the streams that flowed through the quiet valley, seemed unitedly to speak my great Creator's praise. The fear of man now vanished, and a holy boldness moved me to speak to all around me of the beauties of my Lord. My soul overflowed with love to my greatest enemies, and my wonder was that the chief of sinners did not behold the glory of God, and unite to exalt his name. Through the night my soul was exceedingly happy, and the next morning I thought the sun was never before so richly laden with the glory of God. I had never known so happy, so pleasant a morning.
"Though I did not then suppose myself converted, I now think, from an analysis of my feelings, that I enjoyed something of the converting grace of God, for the following reasons:—1st. I had a witness in my own soul that God was my friend. 2d. I felt a vital union with all the saints, without respect to name, age, or color. I loved them, and could say, They are my people. Some who were poor and ignorant, whom I had formerly despised, I was able to embrace as my best friends. 3d. I felt a particular regard for every creature and object God had made, and a tenderness even to the lowest animal forms—as nothing seemed unincluded in the bond of love that united me and all things to Him. 4th. For the chief of sinners I felt particular love, regarding such as brethren in nature, and I greatly wished them to share in the peaceful wealth of the Gospel. 5th. My former ways in which I had sought happiness, now seemed to me as worthless and vain. Indeed I abhorred them.
"My freedom from the former oppressive gloom, the fulness of the tide of joy that was rising in my breast, at times startled me with the apprehension that as I was not converted I ought not to feel so light and so free, and my embarrassment was increased by the circulation of the report among the people that I was converted. They began to call me brother, which also seemed quite too much for me; and as I could not feel that I had experienced the change as usually described, I began to fear that I was deceived, which caused me much trouble and induced me to be silent for some time, as I was unwilling to discourage or to deceive others. Although I never had so much confidence in dreams as some, yet at this time the glory of God was beautifully revealed to me in night visions, and through them my mind was relieved of many doubts and fears, and again partook of the inward peace which the world in its greatest ability is unable to give. For several weeks, however, I kept my joys to myself, saying nothing in meeting and little in private, as I was determined not to deceive others, as I might in case my joys should prove unreal. Employing myself constantly in reading the Scriptures, that I might walk understandingly, my mind for several weeks was swallowed up in the interest their pages revealed, which unfolded a glory and beauty I cannot describe. In my retired moments, I held sweet communion with God, and, notwithstanding the shadows of doubt that crossed my mind in solitude, I was truly led from glory to glory.
"I heard others tell the day and the hour when the change was wrought in their hearts. Herein was my greatest trouble. My experience was not like others, nor indeed what I supposed it would be. I knew of several times when my mind was relieved of all its oppressions, but as I could single out no one of them and call it conversion, I concluded that the whole together was conversion. Though continually thirsting for new evidence, for which I was much drawn out in prayer, and selecting the most retired places for holy meditation, I pondered, like Mary, these things in my heart. Some conversations about this time, proved beneficial to me; especially was my soul refreshed by the dreams and night visions that came to me, making it seem ofttimes as though angels were hovering over my bed, and my apartment as filled with the divine glory. I was many times ready to say, I know that my Redeemer liveth."
In this manner Mr. B. records the operations of his youthful mind in seeking to solve the most serious of all problems—his soul's salvation. One perceives the presence of much self-distrust, much repentance; and an abundance of sympathetic sensibility to whatever is morally powerful and affecting in religion. Perhaps some have already taken it for granted that this youth of overflowing energy, lonely meditation, earnest prayer, and self-questionings, was wholly moving on the tide of popular instruction, or that he fell as melted lead or iron, into the moulds of theological teaching already prepared. This view is suddenly dispersed by all that is known of the man, and by the facts of the narrative itself. Do not sin and conscious alienation from God afford good cause for weeping? Are not the elements of the soul itself good reason for prayer, for deep desire and aspiration after a union of spirit with Him who is its Parent source and the glorious Perfection, of which it now has clear and happy glimpses? That work was unable to absorb his mind, that society could not get very near his heart, that his food even became tasteless, and his home a scene of mourning, are facts that hail from certain states of mind that have their deep significance, and which, in India and Persia, as well as in the American wilderness, have their numerous representatives.
He speaks of a time of religious interest when his father felt the need of something; more than Deism as a support to his mind; also of his becoming deeply interested in the ministry of Mr. Farewell, a Universalist minister; of his reading with great zeal the writings of Winchester, Dr. Hunting, Ballou, and others of the same faith, often spending whole nights in writing and study; books which, at his father's request, he also studied; and though for a time embarrassed by the philosophical arguments of Mr. Ballou on the Atonement and other topics, he discarded them ere long, with an earnest decision as opposed to the religious experience which gave him joy and hope, and as contrary to the plain teachings of the Scriptures. At this early day Universalism was indeed a bold extreme, it being little else than Calvinism benevolently applied to human destiny; and its strongly controversial and undevotional character was poorly adapted to a welcome in hearts that were glowing with the sacred enthusiasm of religious love. One evening he offered some speculative conversation in relation to the being and attributes of Satan, which so hurt the minds of the converts that he resolved no longer to harbor these negations, the dwelling upon which so much discorded with the happy feelings inspired by their simple faith and humble worship.