To every work there is a crisis which openly exhibits success or failure. To every growth there are certain perceptible changes by which we note the progress from incipiency to the mature state. There is a symbolical new birth in nature when the rose-tree blooms, when leafless wintry trees are green with foliage and white with blossoms. Summer is a regeneration in the state of the earth, and it is none the less so because we cannot point out the moment, hour, or day, in which the actual summer assumed its effective reign. None fail to see the difference between June and January. If in July you meet the bending lilac, it silently tells you of all that March, April, May and June have done for it. So man's moral periods are marked. The soul in its struggles after divine life, through penitence and faith, reaches a crisis of victory and development of holy purpose, principle and power, which the church has generally agreed to call conversion, and for which we know no better name. The journal of Mr. Badger, which refers to this epoch of his spiritual history, is headed with a poem on Christ, of which we have space for only a few lines: "Oh! glorious Father, let my soul pursue The wondrous labyrinth of love divine, And follow my Redeemer to the cross. Nailed to the cross—his hands, his feet, all torn With agonizing torture! Stupendous sacrifice! Mysterious love! He died! The Lord of life—the Saviour died! All nature sympathizing, felt the shock. The sun his beams withdrew, and wrapt his face In sable clouds and midnight's deepest shade, To mourn the absence of a brighter sun— The Sun of righteousness eclipsed in death! A short eclipse. For soon he rose again, All glorious, to resume his native skies! Oh, love beyond conception! In silent rapture all my powers adore." In the religious experience of Joseph Badger, as intimated by this poem, Christ with him is always the central sun, the presiding power. "I do not think," says Mr. B., "that persons can tell their religious experience, if their change is real and they have fully felt the effects of love divine. They are led to say with St. Peter, that it is 'joy unspeakable and full of glory.' Human language cannot describe the fulness and sweetness of the religion of Christ. Viewing the invisible depth of its wealth, how faint are our descriptions? How weak our best comparisons, and the metaphors by which we attempt to represent it! The soul which has become a partaker of the divine nature, of its love, is ever ready to exclaim—'The half had never been told me;' yet words, and other imperfect signs, will easily indicate the presence of the reality enjoyed. "Eighteen hundred and eleven! that memorable year will never be forgotten by thousands now living, on account of the victorious spread of the Gospel in North America. Generations yet unborn will trace the pages "As I have already alluded, in a former chapter, to the feelings of moral conviction that wrought in my breast, I will only say that they began with this year, and were of a kind neither to be drowned nor driven away. Not for Adam's sins, or the sins of our fathers, did I feel condemned; it was only for such as belonged to me. Light had come and I had chosen darkness. I therefore cast no reflections on any class of persons, as the Gospel, conscience, and the creation, seemed to unite in proclaiming—'Thou art the man;' and under a sense of my ingratitude to Jesus, the sinner's Friend, I felt to add my hearty Amen, and say, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.'" In the pride of philosophical speculation, there are knowing ones who rob the rich idea of God of personality; also, in the attempts to deify the sacred parchments of Palestine, others unwittingly superannuate the Holy Ghost, driving us all to live solely upon ancient words—words that were undoubtedly its breathings when spoken. But one page from the journal of such an experience as that of Mr. Badger is better than all learned theory. Every page referring to his mind's exercise abounds in feeling—earnest, real feeling. He believes in the God of action, who converts the The youth of this memoir looked around upon the dark world, and upward to the great God for his spirit's rest, and searched through the labyrinth of his own conflicting emotions to find a rock for his feet. Often his "eyes were rivers of waters;" and, "as I looked around for comfort, every place revealed some circumstance that gave to grief a keener edge." He is now so deeply touched by the Holy Spirit that nothing filled him with delight like the tender portraiture of the love of Christ; the profane word was now a loathed and jarring discord in his ear; the songs of the wicked deepened his sadness, and often did he repeat to himself, in tears, the well-known lines, "Alas! and did my Saviour bleed!" which he tells us had the power to penetrate his heart of hearts, whilst the most secret and hidden recesses of the wild witnessed his humble thank-offerings of praise and contrite confessions of sin. Without a minister to aid him, and without the sustaining sympathy of a single human creature, he continued Contrary to the customs of his family, he went, once in a great while, to the Methodist meetings, a denomination whose power to reach the popular mind all over the world is known and honored. At one of these meetings, July, 1811, the persons present supposed, from his former reputation for rudeness, that he was there perhaps to criticise derisively their humble manner of worship. When Mrs. Tilden arose and said, "The eyes of the world are upon us, and if any came here to feast upon our failings, or to spy out our liberties, let us starve them to death, by living such lives that they can find no action of which to speak reproachfully"—after a few moments, he arose and said: "I very much regret that any of my neighbors and friends should, for one moment, imagine me as an enemy, or suppose that I came here to ridicule what may pass before me. Far be it from my mind. I believe religion is what all men need to make them happy in time and eternity. With all my heart I wish you well and hope you will go on your way rejoicing." 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, "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 "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 "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 "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 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 The Methodist denomination, at this time very spiritual and very prosperous in the province, was with him a favorite, though for reasons independent of the dictation of persons or of circumstances, he did not become a member of their society in his town, a fact which did not at all interfere with the entire freedom and cordial fellowship they mutually enjoyed. A Methodist Discipline is kindly offered him. He gladly reads, and commits it mostly to memory. But there is something in this young man that questions the Discipline and the ministers who explain it; that regards it as formal, and in many respects unlike the Scriptures; that quietly declines making it the groundwork of a faith and a sectarian position, though he does not break the happy concord about him by obtruding open controversy. He joined no sect. "I wondered," said he, "that saints cannot all be one. I thought it strange that the affectionate names of 'Brethren,' 'Disciples,' 'Christians,' 'Friends,'—golden names that I found scattered through the New Testament, were not sufficient without the sectarian names under which the denominations were marshalled. This was a great mystery to me. I knew of none at that time who adopted the At a time when the righteousness of sectarianism was undisputed, when no voices from the pulpit were pleading for the true catholicity of the Christian faith, and when his associates were moved along by emotional ardor, was it not a strong, clear-sighted, original force of the young man that paused to ask, Why this formality and narrowness of creed? Why these many sectarian names? Why is the unity of the religion of Jesus broken by sects? These indeed were great questions for a young man in 1811; and in resolving them into a principle of action without relinquishing an iota of the faith and piety that had inspired him with hope, and joy unspeakable, he has given to the world an early proof of the superiority of mind of which his maturer years were the exhibition. The multitude, yielding to the enthusiasm of great moral excitement, often float along as flood-wood. He so controlled the current that bore him, as to be his own man, free from the despotism of any sectarian platform. Through the spring and summer of 1812, his mind steadily poised on heavenly things, and anxious to do what the will of God in Christ required, he made the subject of baptism a topic of study. "I searched the New Testament, as I was determined to know all that it said on the subject. I first became satisfied from the Scriptures, and secret prayer, that baptism was an institution of the Redeemer. 2. That it was enjoined on all believers in the Son of God. 3. That the mode practised in primitive days was going down into the water, and coming up out of the water after being buried therein. Although I was so clear relative to these three ideas, I often wept and cried to God in secret places in view of my unworthiness; but I received a glorious answer that in this institution of outward acknowledgment and obedience, I ought to follow the examples of Him who is the Way, the Truth, and Life. One evening when my mind was much tried on this subject, I prayed to God that if it was my duty to be baptized, I might dream of pleasant water. That night when locked in sleep I dreamed of riding on the most beautiful stream that I ever had seen; also of being immersed in the pure and tranquil element, whilst the divine glory shone around as a sacred enchantment. When I awoke my heart was filled with love divine, and I believe that, had there been an administrator present, I should hardly have waited for the day-dawn. These feelings I kept to myself; and, as I could not think of any administrator, or fix on time and place, I continued in this way till the first of September. "I then went to Hatley to attend a general meeting, and a glorious time it was. Here I first saw Elder Benjamin Page, from Vermont, who preached a very instructive and refreshing discourse from Rom. 8: 21. 'Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.' Here I became acquainted with many of God's people whom I had not known, and in their spirituality and freedom I saw what more accorded with my existing "'Jesus, my Lord, my Life, my Light, O come with blissful ray; Break radiant through the shades of night, And chase my fears away.' In a trembling and prayerful state of mind I went to church, where I found a large concourse of people in attendance, to whom Elder M. preached words of life. Among the many that were moved to speak in honor of the Redeemer, I arose, expressed my love to God and the saints, inviting my young companions to a rich and costly repast, without money and without price. Here every doubt was removed. Here I gained strength. The glory of God filled my heart. My father being present, Elder M. asked him if he was willing that his son should go forward in baptism, to which he replied that he was perfectly willing that Joseph, in things of religion, should act according to his own conception of duty. This gave "'But who is this that cometh forth, Sweet as the blooming morning, Fair as the moon, clear as the sun? 'Tis Jesus Christ adorning.' We returned singing; and truly, like the Ethiopian worshipper, we 'went on our way rejoicing.' From this time, I felt that I was newly established in God's grace. I had more strength to withstand temptation, more confidence to speak in the holy cause of the Redeemer. Here, with the Psalmist, I could say, 'How love I thy law; it is my meditation all the day.' "'Let wonder still with love unite, And gratitude and joy; Be holiness my heart's delight, Thy praises my employ.'" Thus reads the narrative of such outward and inward facts as belong to the early religious history of Joseph Badger. Its component parts are, deep feeling, much thought, temporary doubting and despondency, penitence, inward aspiration, prayerful reliance on God, and at last a wide Christian fellowship, untinged by sectarian preference, and a conscious peace and joy in God. Through the many changes of theory, each winning admirers and having its day; through the stormy excitements of the religious feeling in the world, Mr. B. always retained his equilibrium and his constancy. And why? Because he laid his basis not in dogma, not in speculation, but in experience. By this he held his course, it being an anchor in the sea-voyage of life, a pole-star to the otherwise doubtful wanderings of the world's night. What can we or any one know of Divinity, except what we hold in our inward consciousness and experience? Nothing else. Words do not reveal holy mysteries. The soul must have God in its own life, or He is a mere intellectual conception, a mere word. We admire the poetic, marvellous vein that enables one to linger upon a beautiful dream. The young man, already rich in the Spirit's baptism, saw sacred value in the outward form, in the pure Scripture symbol. Earlier than the dates of Christian records in Palestine, did the religious feeling of man, in different climes, select water as one of its best formal expressions; and, though not heretofore |
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