Memoir of Rev. Joseph Badger Part 4

Never did we enjoy a more glorious time, never did we realize the divine presence more joyfully than here under keepers. Many brethren came to see us, their eyes filled with tears, whilst our hearts overflowed with joy.

"Sat.u.r.day morning I arose very early and obtained permission to visit my brethren at the general meeting on condition that I would return at nine o'clock. I enjoyed my visit there; but what most affected me was this. Just as the sun had begun to brighten the eastern sky, after I had started, I met my oldest sister and my brother's wife, who had heard of my bonds, and hastened with eyes and hearts full of sympathetic concern for my welfare. They had arrived at the place the night previous, and were at that early hour hastening to the lodgings of their poor brother Joseph in afflictions. When I saw them I could not refrain from tears. They brought me money and articles of clothing, which were acceptable to me at that time. They tarried through the meeting and returned home.

"At ten o'clock the court sat, and the whole scene together was one at which the student of human nature might have sat with amus.e.m.e.nt, scorn, edification, and pity. False witnesses arose as in ancient days. I say false witnesses, because they proved so before the court. They stated that we had opposed our brethren in bearing arms, that we had spoken diminutively of the British king, topics on which the public speakers present had been silent. Finally, at the close we were bound over for our appearance at court, which sat at the Three Rivers, and only twenty-five minutes were granted us in which to procure bondsmen. This we utterly declined doing. I told them that I knew the character of the cause in which I was called to suffer; that for me the _Stone Jug_ had no terrors, and that if I must occupy its walls, I should trust that the same G.o.d who heard Paul's prayers and songs at midnight, would also be my friend. At this a captain was ordered to take charge of me. Bishop answered rather independently, and asked Esq. P.

to be his bondsman, but at length informed them that he despised their power. At this we were companions. Many present who were at first our enemies, came to me in tears, and offered to be our bondsmen. A captain who had carefully observed all that had transpired, came and offered to pledge his farm for me. At this, sympathy became contagious, and the spectators, who had thus far been watchfully silent, began to d.a.m.n the squires, two of whom were now observed to stagger, having taken too much whiskey to retain a respectable command of their persons. One of them took me aside, told me that he found no cause against me, that it was the others who had caused them to bind me over, that he had always been _my_ friend, and would attend meeting the next day. The poor fellow fell from his horse on the way home, and broke his shoulder, which for weeks prevented him from leaving his house. Esq. P. the following day was found in the road drunk; and thus ended the suit.

These events were not ineffectual. Our keepers, on seeing the agitation of the people, and the increase of our friends, on Monday morning, by the advice of Captain Ward, dismissed us, and told us to go about our business. This was a day of glad news to the brethren, who in trembling fear and faith, had borne us in their prayers to the Invisible King; and now having a little leisure, I improved it in visiting my friends at Compton. I had not seen my father's house for months. I spent some time with them very agreeably--relived past scenes in conversation--bade them an affectionate farewell and again went to Shipton.

"In the latter part of the year 1813, when on my return from Shipton, my father sent me word that unless I could tarry several days, he wished me to send an appointment and preach at his house. This to me was welcome tidings, as I had long been waiting with hopeful anxiety for this opportunity to open. I sent an appointment, which soon spread over the town. No travelling minister had at this time ever preached at my father's house, and a large mult.i.tude a.s.sembled, probably under the impression that there was something new in the circ.u.mstance. Oh, how solemn, how memorable the scene! I had long been absent from home among strangers, had pa.s.sed through a trying experience in which friendship and hatred had largely commingled, and now, at the invitation of a kind father, I stood amidst my relatives, brethren and old acquaintances, to speak freely on whatever I felt to be dear to the hope and salvation of man. I spoke from Mark 5: 19. 'Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compa.s.sion on thee.' After the a.s.sembly had dispersed, my father and myself spent a great part of the night in conversation on the things of the kingdom, in which he rather favored the doctrine of Universalism. I had an agreeable visit of a few days, and went rejoicing on my way. I name these circ.u.mstances as they belong to the time I first preached at my father's house.

"At Shipton and vicinity, we had through the fall and first part of the winter, golden seasons, and many were added to the church of G.o.d. Party rage seemed to die away, and persecution greatly subsided. I now began to feel a dismission, so far as my labors and responsibilities were related to this region of country; and in casting my eye over the world as my lawful field, I longed to visit other lands, and carry to distant parts the unsectarian message of Repentance, Faith, and Love. During the winter I made several visits at Stanstead, a town lying on the eastern sh.o.r.e of Lake Memphremagog, where I saw a few persons converted, and where, with the saints of the Most High, I took sweet counsel. Also had many useful meetings in my father's vicinity.

"In the spring of 1814 I found my health exceedingly poor.

Many thought I was inclining to the consumption. As the roads were exceedingly bad in the spring season throughout the province, I resolved to make but one general visit in each particular place where I had preached, unless particular impression should otherwise direct me, and then journey to the land of my nativity, to the New England sea-coast, around which my feelings of friendship and reverence warmly cl.u.s.tered, almost taking in the scenery of New England as a vital part of my filial feelings.

Accordingly, as soon as the going became settled, I started on my farewell visits through the North country. Hundreds flocked together in the several towns where my appointments had been sent, to hear my farewell discourses; and unegotistically do I record the simple fact that my audiences wept as I told them my work with them was done, and that in other lands I must go and publish the same salvation in which they rejoiced. Many said, from the poor health I was in, they were satisfied they should never see me again. This was indeed a solemn time to me. I made my intended visit, and left Shipton on the 5th of June. Many of the aged saints and the warm-hearted young people came together at an early hour in the morning to bid me adieu.

When ready to leave, I sung a few verses of a missionary hymn, which thus commences:

"'Farewell, my brethren in the Lord!

The Gospel sounds the Jubilee; My stammering tongue shall sound aloud, From land to land, from sea to sea.'

Some united in the song, others were prevented by the fulness of their emotion. At the close, we kneeled together in prayer; and it was with a heavy heart that I offered to them my parting hand. Never can I forget the kindness and friendship of this people. They contributed largely to my necessities, welcomed me to their homes, and upheld, with their prayers, my feeble hands. Returning to spend a few days at my father's house, I found on parting, the strength of the social and filial ties that bind the heart of man to its home. When, after prayer, I gave my hand to my father, he could only utter 'G.o.d bless you,' such were his emotions, and a wordless silence, accompanied by tears, was my mother's benediction. When I rode away, I felt myself dead to every earthly prospect, to every worldly enjoyment, and from the dearest friends on earth cut off. Yet there was a holy sunshine falling down upon my clouds, that gave to my sinking spirit its needful consolation. It is usually thought that the situation of a youth cut off from his friends is a trying one, especially so if called to the ministry. It is not only in parting with friends and in renouncing worldly prospects, that the spirit is tried; the life of a missionary, who is a man of G.o.d and faithful, is exposed to a thousand sufferings and dangers. Missionaries often go forth as the chosen organs of different denominations, whose denominational interests they plead, and from whom they receive a pledged support. I had aspired to be a missionary of another school, a missionary _to_ men and not _from_ men, having only the Gospel of the world's salvation to uphold, looking on high for the mission, and to the just and careful operations of His providence for all necessary support. For one so conditioned to consider the awful and immense responsibility he a.s.sumes before G.o.d, to think of the account he must soon render of his stewardship, is enough to humble him in the dust. Yet when, on the other hand, the faithful minister has a view of the everlasting inheritance that appears to the eye of faith, from the future compensations of His love, he can say, with the great missionary of the Gentiles, 'I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.'

Perhaps this contemplation is not capable of a statement more just than that which it finds in the olden words:

"'What contradictions meet In ministers' employ; It is a bitter sweet, A sorrow full of joy.

No other post affords the place For equal honor and disgrace.'"

With these lines the n.o.bly expressed narrative of Mr. B., so far as it relates to his early ministerial labors in the Province, closes. A few other doc.u.ments lie before me, several letters from the hand of Mr. Z.

Adams, his colleague for a time in the labors and trials of his early ministrations, several letters of commendation from churches with whom he had labored, and from influential ministers with whom he had a.s.sociated. These letters from Mr. A., though wearing the sallow impress of time on their forms, are fresh with the ardor and devotedness of what never grows old, the earnest heart; and what is peculiar to all these letters from the churches is this, that, after the usual commendatory expressions relative to moral and Christian character, they invariably speak of the _success_ of his ministry among the people. There are also a few letters from him to his father and brothers, written during the period of his ministerial labors of 1813-14, that are unfeignedly rich in the spirit of self-sacrifice, firm faith in his mission, and a fine feeling of love and kindness to all his relatives, a quality flowing through all the correspondence I have seen, addressed to relatives. A long catalogue of names, dated Dec. 20, 1813, shows the number of persons in different towns who were converted under his ministry; and though the evidences at hand indicate for them a general stability of principle and aim, _one_ name, from the first column, must appear to great disadvantage in a future chapter, for it would be equal to a hunting excursion in the forests of antiquity, to find in any country a more unreasonable persecutor, on a limited scale, than was Capt. Moor, in the month of September, 1815.

Joseph Badger was a man who could never endure dulness. Lifelessness and inactivity, in fine, all the brood of stupid demons, he had a magical power to disperse. They fled at his entrance. He _would_ have life and interest, and no man could better create them, by awakening readily the resources of all around him. Thus far we only see the young man of twenty, but the same inherent traits of his whole life are conspicuous. He awakens community wherever he goes. He calls out opposition, creates strong friends and enemies, concentrates attention, brings himself into trying emergencies, which call out his various facility of tact and successful management, his firmness and self-composure. Having set his mind and heart on the persuasion of men to repent and to seek salvation, he carries a mult.i.tude along to this end. But what is most rich, is the deep evangelical element, in which all his powers are immersed; his constant, prayerful, weeping solicitude for souls. I know not where to go to find these holy elements in a more abundant, pure, and I will add, in a more natural state, than they appear in Mr. Badger's early life. His enthusiasm was not rash or fanatical. The fire of his heart blended with the light of his brain.

His eye was always as calm as it was penetrating. It combined the glow and the calmness of the night-star. Almost at the risk of presenting too much of a good thing, I venture to quote a mere fraction of some of these letters, each line of which is so fully alive with the sincerity and earnest faith of the writer.

"SHIPTON, May 11th, 1813.

"DEAR PARENTS,--I a.s.sure you it is with pleasure I once more attempt to write you. I arrived on May the 6th, very much fatigued. I walked twenty-one miles without refreshment, which was too much for my nature. I was unable to preach for some days. My greatest pain was to see the inroads made by the enemy into our little church whilst I was absent, and the spirit of persecution that rankles in many hearts. As I view souls united to eternity, and see that some are hewing out to themselves 'broken cisterns,'

and giving way to 'seducing spirits,' in the doctrine, 'Ye shall not surely die,' I am led to mourn."

"It is surprising to view the beauties of creation, in which we see how everything is formed for the use and comfort of man. Yet how sadly they abuse the great profusion of His blessing. 'What more could He have done for His vineyard than He hath done for it?'--Isaiah 5: 4.

Whilst I meditate on the extent of His goodness and long suffering, on the cross of Him who died for all, and then think of the wickedness that abounds, I am obliged to mourn. Oh my loving parents, may we be wise for both worlds, for time and for eternity! I have had serious thoughts of late why it was that my father did not write to me. As I am here in the wilderness without any relatives or connections, I thought that love for me would have led him to seek my enlightenment if I am in darkness, he being acquainted with the Scriptures; and if I am right, I thought he would wish to give me encouragement. My love to all for their kindness.

"Your prayerful servant, J. BADGER."

"STANSTEAD, July 16, 1814.

"DEAR FATHER,--According to my expectation when at your house, I started on my journey to the southward, preaching on my way; Friday at Derby, Sat.u.r.day at Holland, Sunday at Major Stewart's, in Morgan, where I met a large concourse of people, among whom were eleven young persons from Derby, who were deeply awakened to a sense of their danger whilst out of Christ. To their ardent solicitation for me to return to Derby, I have yielded, which makes it expedient for me to tarry one week more. I do not enjoy very good health, but my mind is happy. I feel that at most a few more rolling suns will bring me to the fair city of Rest.

Each beating pulse but leaves the number less. Had I time I would gladly ride to Compton to see you. But it is wholly uncertain when we again shall meet. I ofttimes think of you all. My love to relatives and inquiring friends.

"'From all that's mortal, all that's vain, And from this earthly clod, Arise, my soul, and strive to gain Sweet fellowship with G.o.d.'

"I subscribe myself a Disciple of Christ, or a Friend to Mankind.

"J. BADGER."

"ASCOTT, July 27, 1813. (In haste.)

"DEAR BROTHER,[14]--Since I have seen you I have preached in Compton, Ascott, Westbury, Oxford, Brompton, Ringsey, Shipton. I am in great haste on my return. I have been comfortable as to health, though much fatigued. I have felt the waters of salvation to flow sweetly through my soul.

Give yourself no trouble if you hear I am taken up. You know the animosities that war engenders. The G.o.d who delivered Daniel, and who protected our fathers, has promised to shield me whilst in the way of my duty. Keep free from all strife, deny self, live in peace with all men. I still feel it my duty to employ all my abilities in holding up Christ to a dying world. My love to parents and brethren."

These extracts show the spirit with which his whole early life was imbued, and they accord well with the journal he wrote a few years later. One vital life pervades them all. Whilst the war was desolating the country, filling the minds of men with anger, jealousy, and irreverence to humanity, he, the heroic young soldier of the Cross, was successfully pouring into their hearts the great lessons of Reformation, Unity, and Peace. Such a ministry at such a time appears to the eye of history as a rainbow arching the black region of cloud and storm, or as life-clad rivers that flow along through the desert regions of the earth.

CHAPTER VII.

TOUR TO NEW ENGLAND, AND PUBLIC LABORS.

With good recommendations, and with the fruits of a not very ordinary experience for one so young, he starts for his native land. What sect does the young preacher hail from? From no sect. He hails from the church of experienced believers, whose test is religion, not theology.

Love to G.o.d and peace with men are the cardinals of his platform, and such was the persuasion of his eye and presence, that his credentials are very seldom disputed. Nothing in the form of sectarianism hedges up his way or impedes his success. If difficulties at any time thicken in his path, he knows what to do with them.

Let us pause a moment to look at the theological lat.i.tudes and longitudes of the self-taught young man at this time, before he leaves to carry his message towards the regions of sunrise in the more intelligent east. In theology he has acknowledged no human master, has sat at the feet of no Edwards, Channing, or Wesley, nor read in musty dogmatical lore what he shall publish as the essential doctrine. The following views, however, may be gathered from the various utterance of his mind, expressed as occasion called, without the intention of making a system. 1. That man bears a living relation to G.o.d; that he may now as of old come to him confidingly, and seek effectually for wisdom and salvation. 2. That the being of G.o.d is One; that his influences are constantly felt in the moral world, promoting the joy and life of his people, and subjecting the sinful to the solemn conviction of their sin and danger. 3. That Regeneration is the want of all men; that _all_ may, like the prodigal of Scripture memory, return to their Sovereign Father.

4. That the Scriptures are the great storehouse of sacred wisdom; that through them the will of G.o.d is infallibly revealed. 5. That Jesus is "the sinner's friend," the Son of G.o.d, the centre of Christianity, and that his Gospel is of celestial birth and mission; "the power of G.o.d unto salvation to all that believe." 6. That experience is the basis of religion; that the only authorized test of fellowship for the church is Christian character. 7. That no sect in Christendom, as such, is _the_ church of G.o.d; that _the_ church is everywhere composed of such only as have pa.s.sed from death unto life. 8. That sectarian names do not fit the catholicity of the inst.i.tution; that the names "disciples," "brethren,"

"friends," "Christians," are the better designations. 9. That human creeds, traditions, "doctrines and commandments of men," are abolished in the light and authority of the Gospel. 10. That sons of G.o.d are freemen, owing no allegiance to Pope, Bishop, Prelate, or Council. These views all fairly reside in the writings which unfold this early period of his life; and when we consider the exceeding scarcity of liberal thought in the religious world at so early a day, and the isolation of his position from the most active and enlightened minds on the continent, his stand in the church and the world becomes a wonder, only to be solved by the recognition of the original and superior intellect that gave him intuitive insight into the right and wrong of whatever problems may have won his earnest attention. The liberality of many is but a mere scepticism of thought. His liberality was a part of the most devoted labor and unabated zeal. It was one with prayer and tears. Now, in this last day, (1854,) with all that learning and comprehensive thinking have done for us, where and what are the heights of liberality occupied by the theological reformers whose names have gone abroad as being wider than their denominational platform? As we glance along the spa.r.s.e population of these plateaux, we observe among others, the names of Bushnell and Beecher, the former with certain acute philosophical powers, the latter with a bold dramatic energy of speech, each exposing himself in a degree to the censure of that large cla.s.s who dread all innovation made upon the time-honored landmarks of the Fathers, who are alarmed at new roads, even though they are more direct, convenient, and comely. But neither of these gentlemen has gone so far as did this youth in the wilderness of his adopted country. Neither has altogether _practically_ forgotten the claims of sect and of creed; and the view that holiness of life and purpose is the indisputable claim to fraternity independent of dogma, which is their highest _idea_, was his constantly _practised_ principle long before the world had heard of new and old school in the contentions of orthodox sects. Open now his first letters of commendation and you will see that the fraternities that authorized them ignored sectarian names, simply styling themselves "The Church of G.o.d in this place." In liberality, I do not see that the best part of the Christian world now are, either in theory or practice, at all in advance of his position in 1813. That his peace principles did not allow him to pray for b.l.o.o.d.y victories, or to strengthen the king's arms by his influence over the people, there is pretty good evidence. He and his brethren drank too deeply at the wells of religion to engage in the destruction of their fellows.

To return. The young man, now nearly twenty-two years of age, intent on the duties and trials of a missionary life, starts for his native New Hampshire, improving every opportunity on the way, where circ.u.mstances united with his own impressions in producing the conviction that good might be done. Without abating his own labor, he depends continually on divine a.s.sistance, believing that he enjoys the advantage of the real presence of the One who said, "Lo! I am with you alway;" and before undertaking any important cause, or plan of action, he seeks illumination in secret prayer, then follows the leading impressions of his mind. He diligently studies the Scriptures, observes nature, and discriminates the strong points and peculiarities of the different characters he meets, for which he seemed to possess an intuitive power that received no a.s.sistance from the later inductions of phrenology, or the didactic lessons of physiognomy. He could, without rules admitting of statement, readily discern the character of an audience, the kind of discourse fitted to their capacity and wants, and most easily did he arrive at this kind of knowledge by a brief social contact with individuals. No nature perhaps ever had a greater power of adaptability to the many-phased character of mankind and surrounding circ.u.mstances, than his. But for the present, indeed for the several years of his early ministry, the central element of his life, the one that ruled all others, was his earnest, hearty, prayerful devotion to the holy mission of saving human beings from sin, and of bringing them into living union with G.o.d and with Christ. Along the meanderings of this current let us therefore follow the course of his narrative, which at this time unfolds itself in a series of letters, hastily and unelaborately written to some friend whose name does not appear; perhaps to Z. Adams, or to some other young minister interested in his welfare.

"DEAR FRIEND,--I rode from Stanstead, where I had enjoyed several good meetings, across the line into the State of Vermont, where I had several more in Derby, Holland, and Morgan, but soon returned to a little village on the line, and on Stanstead Plain, where there were prospects of good being done. It was here that I met Mr. Roswell Bates, who became my company, as he was going to the town of Woodstock. Leaving the line about July the 16th, we pa.s.sed through Rigah, Browning, and Wheelock, holding several meetings at the last named town, in which the spirits of many appeared to gather new courage and joy. I then rode to Danville, and remained several days, in which time I had the pleasure of seeing some who had been for months cold in their affections, quickened and newly determined in the cause of life. We then rode to Peacham, then to Newbury, Bradford, and Corinth, where we separated, Mr. B. going to Hafford and I to Strafford. Here I was greeted by a happy band of brethren, with whom I held several meetings, and remained several days. Crossing the Connecticut river over into Lyme, thence through Dorchester to Hebron, thence to Bridgewater, I arrived next morning, which was Sunday, at New Hampton, and was kindly received by Wm. B. Kelley, Esq., a distant relative, by whom I was politely introduced to the clergyman of the place. With him I pa.s.sed a half hour very pleasantly; we repaired to the church together, as the people began to a.s.semble. I occupied with him a seat in the desk, and listened with a degree of satisfaction to what he communicated. When we returned to his house, he insisted on my speaking in the afternoon, and in vain did I urge the excuses of a long journey and much fatigue. He gave me a Bible and a Concordance, saying that I had three quarters of an hour in which to prepare, and left the room. We again repaired to the church, and contrary to the order of the morning, I was a.s.signed the right-hand place in the pulpit. I spoke to these strangers in the same freedom to which I had ever been accustomed, and reserved nothing of the divine counsel made known unto me; the word seemed to have some direct effect; the people appeared to hang with solicitude on the truths advanced, and many wept under the exhibition of the love and pardoning grace of Jesus Christ. The next day I heard a young man, Mr. John Swett, who, much to my joy, was wholly engaged in the work of the Lord--a work already commenced under his labors. At the request of my friends, I gave out an appointment, at which there were three ministers, Mr. Hillard, the aged priest to whom I had been at first introduced, Mr. Daney, whom I had never before seen, and Mr. Swett, my new acquaintance. I scarcely ever found greater liberty in speaking. Priest Hillard at the close arose and gave me his approbation, inviting me again to call on him; others also spoke on the goodness of G.o.d, as experienced by them.

Bidding them an affectionate farewell, I was, in about four hours, at my native Gilmanton, whose citizens and scenes I had not known for the s.p.a.ce of four years.

"Here I had great joy, mingled with sorrow--joy to meet my sister, Mrs. Cogswell, and other relatives; sorrow to learn that in their plans of happiness, religion and reconciliation to G.o.d were not the essential part. Capt.

C., who did not usually go to the Free Church, wished me to permit him to make an appointment in that place, to which I gave consent. Accordingly, on the next Lord's day, at half-past ten o'clock, I met a large congregation at the Free Church; and at five o'clock, P. M., spoke to a full a.s.sembly at the house of Capt. Cogswell, each audience being probably attracted in part by curiosity. At the former meeting, my mind was constrained to weep over the people, who also wept under the message I delivered them.

Many serious exhortations were given; many expressed the fulness of their joy in Christ. Wishing to see men and women stand upon some positive decisions in regard to their salvation, and knowing the good influence which a public expression of secret resolves has upon the subsequent action of man, I proposed that such of the a.s.sembly as felt the worth of religion, and desired to enjoy its heavenly light and consolation, would signify the state of their minds by rising up. Very few kept their seats; and I have reason to think that many were strengthened for life. Many invitations were given me for new appointments. At 5 o'clock at Capt. C.'s, there were many Calvinists present, who with the rest, seemed to mingle with their critical aspect considerable true religious feeling. Perhaps my preaching called out more criticism than it would otherwise have done, on account of my manner being wholly extemporaneous, and my sentiments not being formed from Calvin or any sectarian creed. My grandmother[15] was present; she seemed much pleased, and after meeting said to me, 'It is a wonder and a mystery to me how you talk as you do without having any of it written. Two of my family have got to be preachers, William C. and yourself. He learned to preach at the inst.i.tution, but who in the world ever learned you up there in Canada?' I believe I told her that the Being who needed ministers had much to do in making them, which seemed to be a new idea in these parts.

"I then went to New Durham to visit my relatives, but spoke frequently before my return. On my way back, at a very good meeting about two miles from the place of my other appointments in the town, a young lady whom I baptized in February of the next year, was there permanently and effectually impressed with the need of salvation through Christ. She continued from that time to be drawn into nearness and union with Jesus, whose power over the heart no one can measure. After this meeting I returned to Gilmanton. As my sister was somewhat out of health, and travelling was recommended as her best restorative, I favored her desires to visit her parents in Canada, whom she had not seen for six years: and taking a carriage suited to the journey, conveyed her to my father's house in Compton. Our parents were overjoyed to see us. The next morning early I returned to the States, rode to Glover, Greensborough, and Montpelier, attended a quarterly meeting, with several other appointments, and returned to the Province in about seven days. Meeting my sister at Stanstead, where my elder brother according to agreement had brought her, I again set out for Gilmanton, where I arrived after an absence of about four weeks. On my way east I pa.s.sed through Cabot and Danville, where I held several meetings; but when pa.s.sing through New Hampton I met Rev. Mr. Hillard, who informed me that he intended to go to Toronto to preach, and should be happy to have me supply at his church during his absence. I accordingly left an appointment.

"Here, my dear friend, you have a brief account of my journeyings for the s.p.a.ce of two months and a few days, in which time I have travelled 770 miles. Here in good old New England scenes, I at times revive the lights and shades of my early days, but the work of salvation is one that overlays in interest all reverie of the mind, and I shall hasten to give you a further account of the work of G.o.d in my next, hoping that from former friendship, my hasty letters will be interesting to your delicate and studious mind.

"Yours, in the truth, J. BADGER.

"Sept., 1814."

Here I would observe, that the ma.n.u.script from which the events of these several months are chiefly known appears to be copies of letters, several of which were addressed to one person, whose name may have been upon the outer leaf of the scroll at first, but which I do not find in the letters themselves. As his present history is reflected in these, I offer them, with all the variety of incident which a man of his peculiar cast of character would very naturally call out. These "scratches," as he labelled them, appear to have been kept as a means of reenlivening past scenes, should he ever wish to write their history.

"After attending several meetings in Gilmanton, I went on to my appointment at Newhampton, and met a very large congregation who had come out to hear the new preacher. The people thinking me a missionary direct from college, readily swallowed the doctrine of a free, universal salvation, designed for and offered unto all men, and many rejoiced in the liberal view I presented. I felt at this time, very much the weight of the cause, and spoke with great freedom on the true mission of the Gospel to our lost world. It may be thought by some that courtesy should have dictated an acquiescence in the formality and doctrine that reigned about me. But I felt constrained to speak from my own soul and the word that burned in my own heart. I did so. Many of the silent kindled anew with ardor, their tongues were unloosed, and some praised G.o.d aloud. In the afternoon I had a glorious time, concluding my sermon with the most earnest warning to the people. This change in their accustomed routine for Sunday called out many remarks, some saying one thing and some another. One said, 'He preaches just like a d.a.m.ned Freewiller, and if Mr.

Hillard lets him preach there again, I will neither hear nor pay _him_ in future.' Nevertheless, I had several invitations to preach again. In the evening I spoke at Mr.

Kelley's, to about 200 hearers, on Monday, P. M., at Lieut.

Sinkter's school-house, to an audience of entire strangers.

In that vicinity were many Freewill Baptists, few of whom, however, saw fit to attend. Priest Hillard's deacon came to me at the close of meeting, with considerable emotion, and said, 'I know the joyful sound of which you have spoken. I am satisfied G.o.d has called you to preach the Gospel. I want you to preach at my house this evening,' and accordingly gave out the appointment. There are always some discerning spirits among the people, who, sooner than others, look into the nature and meaning of things. One of the Freewill members, a lady, remarked when she got home on the character of the meeting, saying, 'The deacon will get joked this time with his missionary or I am deceived.' At evening the house was crowded, the Freewill brotherhood having waked up to an interest in what was occurring. At the time I did not know as there was one anti-Calvinistic mind in the house, but resolved, as a dying man, to do my duty without shrinking. I arose to speak from Mal. 4: 2: 'Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings,' and felt, as I progressed, the love of G.o.d in my soul. Many of the young people wept aloud, the Freewill brethren began to a.s.sist, and before the meeting broke up the power of G.o.d was so strikingly displayed that the deacon, unexpectedly to all, fell prostrate on the floor. A haughty young woman, whose hair was wrought into a profusion of curls, came forward and kneeled down, bathing her curls with tears as she cried for mercy. The argument on this occasion, though no doctrine was discussed, was one that the deacon was unable to resist, for he fell as many as five times under the power of G.o.d. The house seemed filled with divine glory.

The congregation broke up about one o'clock at night. The next day I went from house to house praying and conversing with the people. I found that many were seeking Christ, and that a thoughtful solemnity was resting even on the minds of children.