

Deeper Experiences

of famous Christians

White Tree Publishing Edition

James Gilchrist Lawson

First published in 1911

This eBook is from the 1911 edition

This edition ©White Tree Publishing 2018

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-15-5

Published by

White Tree Publishing

Bristol

UNITED KINGDOM

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Scripture quotations from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crown's patentee, Cambridge University Press.

About the Book

A selection of accounts of the lives Christian evangelists of the past, gleaned from their biographies, autobiographies and writings by J. Gilchrist Lawson. These evangelists had one thing in common: after their conversion they needed a Pentecostal experience, a filling of the Holy Spirit before they could work effectively and face the storms, bringing thousands, tens of thousands and in some cases hundreds of thousands to come to Christ in their speaking alone. It is estimated that no less than a hundred million people heard the gospel from DL Moody's lips, and many millions more were -- and still are -- being reached through the books written by some of the people we read about here. White Tree Publishing has taken and abridged a selection from Gilchrist's original work, detailing the lives of some well-known evangelists, and some who are less well-known to today's readers. Most people have heard of Bunyan, Wesley and Moody, but how about Christmas Evans? Gilchrist writes in a lively style, bringing us these Godly people from the past to encourage us today, with emphasis on their dependence on the power of the Holy Spirit in all they did.

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Book

Introduction

Publisher's Note

The Pentecostal Experience

John Bunyan

John Wesley

George Whitefield

John Fletcher

Christmas Evans

Lorenzo Dow

Peter Cartwright

Charles G. Finney

Billy Bray

Elder Knapp

George Muller

Frances Ridley Havergal

D. L. Moody

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Original Introduction

The great object of this book is to describe, in their own words so far as possible, the deepest spiritual experiences of the most famous Christians of all ages and climes. The author has spent much of his time for years in the greatest libraries of Europe and America, searching the whole range of Christian literature to glean from it the most spiritual and helpful Christian experiences. He trusts that it will be the means of leading many into "the fullness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ" (Romans 15:29).

Although these pages contain an account of the most important facts in the lives of famous Spirit-filled children of God, it would be impossible in a book of this kind to describe the deeper experiences of all the famous Spirit-filled Christians. In the early Christian church, and in almost every denomination of Christians, there have been many whose consecrated lives and spiritual experiences have made them a blessing to multitudes.

Although the deeper spiritual experiences of Christians of different denominations are given in this book, it will be found that there is a wonderful harmony in the experiences related. The people described, relate their deeper experiences in very different terms; but the deeper Christian experience described is always the same. It is the baptism, or filling, or gift, of the Holy Spirit, and the experience resulting from being "filled with the Spirit." The Methodist may describe this deeper Christian experience as "entire sanctification," "holiness," or "perfect love." The Baptist may call it the "baptism of the Holy Spirit," or the "filling of the Spirit." The Presbyterian may call it the "life of faith," or the "rest of faith," or the "full assurance of faith." The Congregationalist may call it "entire consecration." The Quaker may call it "living in the Spirit," or "walking in the Spirit," or "over-coming power."

All these are Scriptural terms, or ideas, and all refer to a Spirit-filled Christian experience; just as Hannah Whithall Smith, in her The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life, and William Arthur, in his Tongue of Fire, describe one and the same experience, although one views the experience from the human side and the other from the Divine; one showing man's privilege and the other God's power, just as a person looking at the Niagara Falls from the Canadian side would describe them in very different terms from a person looking at them from the American side, although the falls would remain the same.

Theories differ according to the different standpoints or ways of looking at things. So long as men have different degrees of light they are bound to differ in theory. "Now we see through a glass, darkly," says the apostle Paul, "but then shall I know even as also I am known" (1 Corinthians 13:12). But as there is a practical agreement among evangelical Christians with regard to the way of salvation, so there is a practical agreement among those who believe in a deeper Christian experience than conversion.

All agree that Christians may be "filled with the Spirit" (Ephesians 5:18); that we may "have life and have it more abundantly" (John 10:10); that we may be "rooted and grounded in love" (Ephesians 3:17); that we can be "more than conquerors, through Him that loved us" (Romans 8: 37); that if we bring all the tithes into His storehouse, the Lord will open us the windows of heaven, and pour us out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it (Malachi 3:10); that we may have "peace as a river," and "righteousness as the waves of the sea" (Isaiah 48:18); that we may have "joy unspeakable and full of glory" (1 Peter 1:8); and so on.

In a court of law the testimony of witnesses would be rejected if they all gave the same evidence, and gave it in the same words and manner. It would prove that there had been collusion among the witnesses. But if each witness gave his evidence in his own words and manner, and yet the testimony of the witnesses agreed as to the essential facts, the evidence would be regarded as of the most convincing character.

So when Christians of so many different centuries and countries relate their deeper Christian experiences in their own manner and language, and yet all agree as to the essential facts, it is overwhelming evidence in favor of the fact that such a deep Christian experience may really be attained.

In the preparation of this book the author is greatly indebted for information, and often for the manner of expressing it, to writers too numerous to mention. He is especially indebted to the biographers of the famous Christians whose experiences are described. The condensed nature of the book has made it impossible for him to acknowledge all the sources of his information, and he has not attempted to do so.

The prayer of this author is that this account of how God has done for others exceeding abundantly above all that they asked or thought (Ephesians 3:20) may be the means of leading others to "hunger and thirst after righteousness;" that they may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ which passeth (human) knowledge, that they may be filled with all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:18-19).

Publisher's Note

Names are in date order of birth, rather than the year in which they started their ministry.

Occasional words in square brackets [thus] have been added to remind the reader that this book was written in 1911, and also to explain the mention of an event or person possibly not generally known today.

To help readers who only want to read about some of the names, a hyperlink to the Table of Contents is included at the end of each chapter.

There are 14 chapters in this book. In the second half are advertisements for our other books, so this book may end earlier than expected! The last chapter (DL Moody) is marked as such. We aim to make our eBooks free or for a nominal cost, and cannot invest in other forms of advertising. However, word of mouth by satisfied readers will also help get our books more widely known. When the book finishes, please take a look at the other books we publish: Christian non-fiction, Christian fiction, and books for younger readers.

The Pentecostal Experience

of the Apostles

White Tree Publishing editor's note: There is an important difference between evangelism and revival.

" _Revival always begins, not with the conversion of the godless, but with the reanimation of the people of God. ..._ Evangelism is the work man does for God, revival is the work God does for man" (Revival: Times of Refreshing, Selwyn Hughes 2004).

"Revival is God bending down to the dying embers of a fire just about to go out, and breathing into it until it bursts into flame" (Christmas Evans 1766-1838).

#

On the day of Pentecost, the world's greatest example of God's power was given to transform the lives and character of men, so as to make the weak strong and powerful. Pentecost was the pouring out of the "former rain" of God's Spirit, just as in these last days there will be an outpouring of the "latter rain" (Hosea 6:3; Zechariah 14:7; and James 5:7).

By His death on the cross, Jesus made so great an atonement for sin that God could safely pour out His Spirit on all mankind, without the universe thinking that He was regarding sin lightly. It was the atonement of Christ therefore that purchased the great Pentecostal gift for the world. "When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men" (Psalm 68:18, and Ephesians 4:8).

Before the ascension of Christ, the Holy Spirit was not yet poured upon all flesh, "because that Jesus was not yet glorified" (John 7:39). Jesus told His disciples that it was expedient, or profitable, that He should go away, because if He did not go away the Comforter would not come (John 16:7). He must complete His great work of atonement for the world before the Comforter could come. And it was better for the followers of Jesus that the Holy Spirit should be poured upon them, and upon the world, than that Jesus Himself should remain with them. While in the body, Jesus could be in only one place at a time, but the Comforter could be everywhere present to convince men of sin and of righteousness and of judgment (John 16:8).

His three great offices are to convince men of sin, to show them the way of righteousness, and to warn them of coming judgment. He does this by influencing men's hearts and minds from without, or by coming to dwell within them. Upon those in whom He dwells He bestows one or more of His seven different spiritual gifts.

The seven different gifts of the Holy Spirit seem to be spoken of in Revelation as "the seven Spirits of God" (Revelation 4:5 and 5:6). They were probably typified in the golden candlestick with its seven branches and seven lamps in the tabernacle and temples of the Old Testament. The apostle Paul seems to enumerate nine gifts of the Holy Spirit in 1 Corinthians 12, but healing and miracles are probably the same gift, and tongues and the interpretation of tongues probably belong to the one gift, so that there are but seven distinct gifts mentioned.

Before Pentecost, Jesus said to His disciples, "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth" (John 16:12-13). He knew that His disciples were only weak spiritual babes, even after all he had taught them, and He commanded them to tarry at Jerusalem until they were endued with power from on high (Luke 24:49, and Acts 1:4-8).

He also said to them, "But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto Me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth" (Acts 1:8).

If the disciples had not believed that promise, there might have been no Pentecost. If they had said that they were already converted, and so they were not looking for any deeper experience, the world might be still groping in heathen darkness. But their faith laid hold of the promise, and great were the results.

The disciples seem to have prayed together for ten days before the promised Comforter came. One, two, three, four, five, then six days went by, and then a whole week, and still no Comforter came; but their faith did not waver. They tarried on in the upper room until the morning of the tenth day before the Comforter came.

We do not know why they had to tarry so long for the Holy Spirit, for there is no other Bible example of men praying so long a time before they received the Pentecostal gift. Perhaps they did not fully meet God's conditions before the tenth day, or He may have designed that they should be fully prepared and humbled by long and earnest prayer so that they would not be puffed up and exalted by the great blessing He was about to pour upon them.

It is more probable, however, that the great reason why God did not send the Holy Spirit sooner was because He purposed to send Him on the day of Pentecost, or fiftieth day after the Passover (Pentecost means fiftieth), when multitudes of Jews from all over the world were present in Jerusalem.

Pentecost was one of the three great annual feasts, or religious gatherings, of the Jews. It was a time of rejoicing over the first-fruits, and it was appropriate that on that day the "first-fruits of the Spirit" (Romans 8:23) should be poured upon the world. It is estimated that in the time of Christ, between one and two million Jews were in Jerusalem to attend the feast of Pentecost. The Bible tells us about Jews of every nation being present to hear the disciples witness to the outpouring of the Spirit.

The Jews were still God's "husbandmen," or chosen people, through whom He was revealing Himself to the world, just as the Gentiles are now His chosen people; and by waiting until Pentecost to pour His Spirit upon them, He secured witnesses from every nation to testify to the outpouring of the Spirit.

Early on the morning of Pentecost the Holy Spirit came with such demonstration and power that no one present could ever doubt the reality of His coming. "They were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues, like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance" (Acts 2:1-4).

Rev. William Arthur, in his splendid book The Tongue of Fire, suggests that the cloven tongues typified the new power which the disciples would receive to preach the gospel, and that is the generally accepted opinion. The cloven tongues may have typified the fact that their power of speech would be doubled, and also that they would not speak of themselves, but that another would speak through them.

When the Holy Ghost fell on them, He gave them power to witness for Christ. When Jesus called the fishermen from the Sea of Galilee to come and follow Him, He promised to make them fishers of men (Matthew 4:19). On the day of Pentecost this promise was fulfilled, and they indeed became fishers of men. On that day the Lord enabled them to catch more men than they caught fish in the miraculous draught of fish on the Sea of Galilee.

Peter and John, two of the Galilean fishermen, afterwards spoke with such boldness that the people, who knew they were unlearned and ignorant men, "took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus" (Acts 4:13). Before leaving His disciples, Jesus had promised that they should do even greater works than He did (John 14:12), and this promise was also fulfilled at Pentecost.

During Christ's earthly ministry very few people seem to have been converted to God through Him. The greatest number of converts mentioned is "five hundred brethren" (1 Corinthians 15:6). But after He ascended to the Father, and sent the promised Comforter, the disciples led three thousand converts to the foot of the cross in one day, and several days later five thousand more seem to have been converted (Acts 4:4).

Surely these were greater works than Jesus accomplished during His earthly ministry! In a moment of time God changed the ignorant fishermen of Galilee into the world's greatest preachers. In a moment of time they learned more about Christ than they had learned in three years walking and talking with Him before they were filled with the Spirit, although He was the greatest teacher who ever appeared in human form.

Although the apostles had been so long a time with the Son of God Himself, and had seen all His miracles and listened to all His teachings, they were only spiritual babes, and did not understand the first principles of the gospel \-- until the day of Pentecost. They quarreled among themselves who should be greatest; they looked for Christ to immediately set up an earthly kingdom and subdue His enemies; some of them resorted to the use of weapons; all deserted Christ in His trial and condemnation. Peter denied Him with swearing and cursing, and in many other ways the apostles showed their lack of spiritual power and understanding. But on the day of Pentecost this was all changed, and they received "power from on high."

Poor, weak, vacillating Peter, who had promised to be true to Christ though all others should forsake Him, and soon afterwards denied Him with an oath, was now transformed into another man. In the power of the Spirit he arose and preached such a sermon that three thousand people were pricked to their heart, and cried out "Men and brethren, what shall we do?"

All the apostles suddenly became spiritual giants, faced the enemy with courage, preached the gospel with boldness, and afterwards carried it throughout the world; and all except John seem to have suffered as martyrs for Christ.

The multitudes who gathered together to hear the disciples on the day of Pentecost did not believe that Jesus was Divine. They thought that they had crucified a mere man and not the Son of God. But the Holy Spirit, witnessing through the disciples, convinced them that Jesus was Divine, and that they had crucified the Son of God. Then it was that they were pricked to their heart with the arrow of conviction, and cried aloud for mercy

It is the work of the Holy Spirit to glorify Jesus, and show men that He is the Divine Son of God. "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost" (1 Corinthians 12:3); but when the Holy Spirit lays hold of a man's heart, he is soon convinced of Christ's Divinity. It is His work to draw all men to Christ.

The great Spirit-filled evangelist Charles G. Finney said that wherever He went, all forms of unbelief vanished when the Holy Spirit was poured upon the people. The Holy Spirit can teach men more about Christ in one hour than the greatest preacher can teach them in fifty or even in a hundred years, without the Spirit enlightening them.

We now come to the lives of people who were filled with the Holy Spirit, and like the early disciples, found their lives and ministry dramatically changed with miraculous power.

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JOHN BUNYAN

1628-1688

It is not to be wondered at that John Bunyan, the author of The Pilgrim's Progress, had a very deep inward experience of the grace of God. Without such an experience, an illiterate tinker would scarcely have been able to write the book which has had a greater circulation than any other book except the Bible.

Next to the Bible, The Pilgrim's Progress is the world's most popular book [writing in 1911]. It has been translated into almost every important language, and adapted for children as well as adults, and for Roman Catholics as well as Protestants. "Illustrious dreamer" that he was, John Bunyan did not dream all of his immortal allegory. The Pilgrim's Progress is almost as much his own experience as is his book Grace Abounding.

In The Pilgrim's Progress Christian is first seized with conviction of his sin. He then leaves the City of Destruction, struggles through the Slough of Despond, endeavors to find help at Mr. Legality's, and then enters the Wicket Gate, after which his burden rolls away at the foot of the Cross. He is then shown by Interpreter some of the things he will meet with on his way to Beulah Land and the Celestial City. [Beulah Land: The peaceful land in which the pilgrim awaits the call to the Celestial City" – Bunyan.]

Bunyan traces his deeper spiritual experiences in The Pilgrim's Progress. We will briefly state in plain words how in reality his burden rolled away at the foot of the cross, and how he reached a Beulah Land experience.

He was born in the village of Elstow, England, in 1628, "of a low inconsiderable generation," to use his own words. He probably refers to the fact that he was born and bred to the profession of a tinker, or mender of pots and kettles, as was his father before him. He received some schooling when a boy, but claims to have forgotten most of it before his conversion.

Bunyan served his apprenticeship and learned his trade in Bedford. His parents seem to have given him religious counsel and advice, but he was a very wicked boy. He says, "I had but few equals -- especially considering my years, which were tender, being few -- both for cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the name of God.

"Yea, so settled and rooted was I in these things, that they became a second nature to me. The which, as I also have with soberness considered since, did so offend the Lord, that even in my childhood He did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions.

"Often after I had spent this and the other day in sin, I have in my bed been greatly afflicted while asleep with the apprehensions of devils and wicked spirits, who still, as I then thought, laboured to draw me away with them; of which I could never be rid."

Thoughts about hell and the Judgment Day also greatly troubled him. "These things," he says, "when I was but a child, nine or ten years old, did so distress my soul that then in the midst of my many sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain companions, I was often much cast down and afflicted in my mind therewith, yet could I not let go of sins."

Later, he says, "A while after, these terrible dreams did leave me, which also I soon forgot; for my pleasures did quickly cut off the remembrance of them, as if they had never been. Wherefore with more greediness, according to the strength of nature, I did set loose the reins to my lust, and delighted in all transgression against the law of God; so that, until I came to the state of marriage, I was the very ringleader of all the youth that kept me company, in all manner of vice and ungodliness."

Describing this period of his life, he also says, "In these days, the thoughts of religion were grievous to me. I could neither endure it myself, nor that any other should." But he did not like to see professed Christians sin. "Yet this I well remember," he says, "that though I could myself sin with the greatest delight and ease, and also take pleasure in the vileness of my companions; yet, even then, if I have at any time seen wicked things by those who professed godliness, it would make my spirit tremble."

Twice he barely escaped drowning, once he came very nearly being bitten by a poisonous adder, and a man who took his place in the army was killed while on sentry duty; but God mercifully preserved Bunyan's life. "Here," he says, "were judgments and mercy, but neither of them did awaken my soul to righteousness; wherefore I sinned still, and grew more and more rebellious against God, and careless of mine own salvation.

"Presently after this (when he was about twenty years of age), I changed my condition into a married state; and my mercy was to light upon a wife whose father was counted godly. This woman and I, though we came together as poor as poor might be, not having so much household stuff as a dish or a spoon betwixt us both, yet this she had for her part, The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven, and The Practice of Piety, which her father had left her when he died.

"In these books I should sometimes read with her, wherein I also found some things that were somewhat pleasing to me; but all this while I met with no conviction. She also would be often telling of me what a godly man her father was, etc.

"Wherefore these books with this relation, though they did not reach my heart to awaken it about my soul and sinful state, yet they did beget within me some desires to religion; so that, because I knew no better, I fell in very eagerly with the religion of the times; to wit, to go to Church twice a day, and that too with the foremost; and there should very devoutly say and sing as others did, yet retaining my wicked life."

At this time he had great reverence for the clergy, their vestments, the Liturgy, and all that belonged to the worship of the Church of England. "But all this while," he says, "I was not sensible of the danger and evil of sin. I was kept from considering that sin would damn me, what religion soever I followed, unless I was found in Christ."

Finally, his pastor preached a sermon against the popular sins and vices, with their fearful consequences, which awakened Bunyan's conscience for the first time to the evil nature of sin. But, on returning home, he soon forgot the sermon. "I shook the sermon out of my mind," he says, "and to my old custom of sports and gaming I returned with great delight."

The same Sunday, however, while he was playing a game of cat [chasing, capture and escape with friends], the conviction returned with such power that he stood still for a while before all the players, none of whom knew what was passing in his mind."

After a few minutes spent in silent thought, he concluded that he had gone too far in sin to ever find salvation, and he determined to get what comfort he could out of sin. He says, "Now therefore I went on in sin with great greediness of mind, still grudging that I could not be satisfied with it as I would.

"One day, as I was standing in a neighbour's shop window, and there cursing and swearing, and playing the madman after my wonted manner, there sat within the woman of the house and heard me; who though she was a very loose and ungodly wretch, yet protested that I swore and cursed at that most fearful rate that she was made to tremble to hear me; and told me further that I was the ungodliest fellow for swearing that ever she heard in all her life; and that I, by thus doing, was able to spoil all the youth in a whole town, if they came in my company."

This well-merited rebuke had a sobering influence on Bunyan. He left off swearing, and a friend's conversation led him to read the Bible. This led to some outward reformation, and then he imagined that he "pleased God as well as any man in England." Even his dancing was given up, and for about a year he continued to live a better outward life, to the great surprise of his neighbors; but he had not yet found peace and rest and joy through faith in Christ.

"But upon a day the good providence of God did cast me to Bedford, to work upon my calling;" he says, "and in one of the streets of that town I came where there were three or four poor women sitting at a door in the sun, and talking about the things of God."

These three women are described in The Pilgrim's Progress under the allegory of the three princesses at the Palace Beautiful. Bunyan's conversations with them opened his eyes to see that he had been trusting in his own outward works for salvation instead of in the Lord Jesus Christ. He saw that these poor women were basking in the sun on the mountain top of Christian experience, while he was "shivering and shrinking in the cold, afflicted with frost, snow and dark clouds."

He now tried to look to Christ for salvation, but like many others he was plunged into fearful despondency and despair by the thought that he might not be one of God's elect. He imagined that God had predestined him to damnation, and for weeks and months he was in so great agony that he could scarcely endure it.

The three Christian women he had met introduced him to Mr. Gifford, the Baptist minister in the place. Mr. Gifford took a great interest in him, but probably never dreamed that Bunyan would be his successor. Mr. Gifford, no doubt, is the Evangelist of The Pilgrim's Progress, who points Christian to the wicket gate; but Bunyan was for a whole year in the Slough of Despond before he finally reached the wicket gate, and before his burden rolled away at the foot of the cross.

During that time, although he was in awful despair, his conscience was so tender with regard to sin that he "durst not take a pin, or a stick, though but so big as a straw," or do the least thing that he considered wrong. But the thought that he was predestined to damnation made him wish he had never been born.

He found peace and joy in Christ one evening as he sat by the fireside, musing on his miserable condition. The Lord brought Hebrews 2:14-15 vividly to his mind. "I thought," he says, "that the glory of these words was then so weighty on me that I was, both once and twice, ready to swoon away; yet not with grief and trouble, but with solid joy and peace." Later on he says, "But, oh! now, how was my soul led from truth to truth by God, even from the birth and cradle of the Son of God, to His ascension and second coming from heaven to judge the world."

His love for Christ now seemed to burn as "hot as fire." After continuing for some time to enjoy peace and rest of soul, he had a great conflict, represented by the fight with Apollyon in The Pilgrim's Progress. Temptations to sell Christ for trifles came into his mind, and he imagined that he had actually yielded to them, and that Christ had forsaken him. "Nothing now for two years together would abide with me but damnation and an expectation of damnation," he says.

He felt that he had committed a worse sin than David, or Judas, or Peter, and that he had sinned against the Holy Ghost. So great was his despair, he found it hard to pray. "Then I was struck into a very great trembling," he says, "insomuch that at sometimes I could, for whole days together, feel my very body, as well as my mind, to shake and totter under the sense of the dreadful judgment of God that should fall on those who have sinned that most fearful and unpardonable sin.

"I felt such a clogging and heat at my stomach, by reason of this my terror, that I was especially at some times as if my breastbone would have split asunder." But with "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God," he at last gave Satan such a deadly thrust that he left him. Like Job, Paul, and others, Bunyan went through fiery trials; and then the Scriptures, "I have loved thee with an everlasting love," "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth from all sin," and "My grace is sufficient for thee," brought sweet peace to his soul,

Bunyan's complete deliverance from his dreadful doubts and despair came one day while he was passing through a field. Suddenly the sentence fell upon his soul, "Thy righteousness is in heaven." By the eye of faith he seemed to see Jesus, his righteousness, at God's right hand. He says, "Now did my chains fall off my legs indeed; I was loosed from my afflictions and irons; my temptations also fled away; so that, from that time, those dreadful Scriptures of God left off to trouble me, now went I also home rejoicing, for the grace and love of God."

On reaching home he tried to find the text, "Thy righteousness is in heaven," and was somewhat discouraged to find that it was not in the Scriptures. But his joy was restored and deepened when he found the similar text, "But of Him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption" (1 Corinthians 1:30).

Bunyan still had many conflicts and trials, but after the above experience he seems to have been passing through Beulah Land. Sometimes he was so overwhelmed with the sense of God's grace and power that he could hardly bear up under it. He soon began to preach in little meetings, and people were deeply convicted of sin, and wept tears of penitence. The Lord gave him "an awakening word," and so many were brought to Christ under his preaching that he was astonished that the Lord should thus use him.

He became famous as a preacher, but his plain speaking roused much opposition. The story of his twelve years' imprisonment for holding meetings separate from the Established Church of England, and of the writing of his famous books while in prison, does not belong to a narrative of this kind. He had only the Bible and Fox's Book of Martyrs with him in prison when he wrote The Pilgrim's Progress. He was frequently allowed his liberty, and sometimes used it in preaching the gospel. After his release he traveled and preached in many places, and was so popular that he was nicknamed "Bishop Bunyan."

King Charles was surprised that the learned Dr. Owen would go to hear "an illiterate tinker" preach. "I would gladly give up all my learning for that tinker's power of preaching," said Dr. Owen.

Bunyan became one of England's most famous men; but in the midst of his religious activity he was smitten with a fever while on an errand of mercy, and died August 31, 1688. He was buried in Bunhill Fields, London's famous Nonconformist cemetery, where tens of thousands of people have visited his grave.

[White Tree Publishing note: A lighter reading of Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress can be found in Pilgrim's Progress -- Special Edition by Chris Wright, also from White Tree Publishing. The characters are young people, but they have the traditional names and travel the same path as the characters in Bunyan's original. For younger readers, Pilgrim's Progress -- An Adventure Book, also by Chris Wright, tells the same, shortened, story in a book with puzzles to solve.]

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JOHN WESLEY

1703-1791

The life and teachings of John Wesley, the famous founder of Methodism, have probably had a greater influence than those of any other man since the days of the apostles in deepening the spiritual life of the present time. [1911.]

The Introduction to the Methodist Book of Discipline states that Methodism was raised up under God "for the spread of Scriptural holiness." Like a mighty conflagration it swept over the world, until in less than two centuries it numbered more adherents than almost any other Protestant church.

The secret of its success was partly owing to the fact that its theology presented a less fatalistic view of salvation than did that of the Old School Calvinism [predestination] so common then among other Protestant denominations; but it probably owed its success still more to the deep spiritual experiences of the Wesleys and the other early Methodist preachers, many of whom were anointed with the Holy Spirit's power that multitudes were brought under conviction of sin while listening to their earnest sermons and exhortations. People often trembled and shook, and many were even stricken down in the meetings, under the overwhelming sense of their sins, received under the preaching of these men of God.

Wesley's great-grandfather, his grandfather and his father were all clergymen in the Church of England, in which church Wesley was himself an ordained minister and remained such until his death, the Methodist Societies in Britain not having become an independent church until 1791, or two years after he died.

Susannah Wesley, the mother of John and Charles Wesley, was the daughter of the great Dr. Annesley, the "Saint Paul of Nonconformity." Her grandfather, as well as her father, were ministers of the gospel, and she was herself famous for her piety and prudence.

John Wesley was born at Epworth, in Lincolnshire, England, on June 17, 1703, and was the fifteenth in a family of nineteen children, of whom only ten survived the period of infancy. At the age of six John himself was barely rescued from the flames when his father's rectory burned down.

Wesley's mother was very careful in the training of the children, and they were all brought up "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." They also received a good secular education. John was educated at the Charter House School in London until he was seventeen, at which time he was sent to Christ Church College, Oxford University. He was a diligent student and made great progress in his studies.

At the age of twenty-three his accomplishments in the classics were so great that he was elected Fellow of Lincoln College, and was also chosen as moderator of classes, and the following year he was made a Master of Arts. Before leaving Oxford University he seems to have become proficient in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, and logic, and he afterwards obtained a knowledge of German.

John Wesley followed the pious advice of his father and mother until after he was ten years of age, without consciously disobeying them in any way. "The next six or seven years were spent at school," he says, "where outward restraints being removed, I was much more negligent than before, even to outward duties, and almost continually guilty of outward sins which I knew to be such, though they were not scandalous in the eyes of the world. However, I still read the Scriptures, and said my prayers, morning and evening."

He relied for salvation on these outward acts, and on churchgoing, and also on the fact that he was not as bad as others. After going to Oxford, for about five years he constantly did things that he knew were sinful in the sight of God, but he still continued to pray, read his Bible, and go to church.

At about twenty-two years of age his eyes were opened to some extent by reading the works of Thomas à Kempis, and he began to see that true religion had to do with the heart, and not with outward actions only. "I was, however, angry at Kempis for being too strict," he says. But he also says, "Yet I frequently had much sensible comfort in reading him, such as I was an utter stranger to before; and meeting likewise with a religious friend, which I never had till now, I began to alter the whole form of my conversation, and to set in earnest upon a new life." Dr. Taylor's book, Holy Living and Dying, made a still deeper impression upon him, and his life became a very sincere one.

Wesley's friends now urged him to be ordained, and in 1725, in his twenty-second year, after much prayer and consideration he was ordained by Bishop Potter. In 1727 he read William Law's Christian Perfection and Serious Call, and these books made him resolve more than ever to be wholly the Lord's. The writings of William Law seem to have influenced his life more than any other writings outside the Scriptures.

It was probably William Law's books, more than any other human cause, which led John Wesley to start the Methodist Societies. In a letter to Mr. Morgan, written in later years, he thus describes the founding of the first Methodist Society: "In November, 1729, at which time I came to reside at Oxford, your son, my brother, myself and one more, agreed to spend three or four evenings a week together. Our design was to read over the classics, which we had before read in private on common nights, and on Sunday some book on divinity.

"In the summer following, Mr. M. told me he had called at a gaol to see a man who was condemned for killing his wife; and that, from a talk he had with one of the debtors, he verily believed it would do much good, if anyone would be at the pains of now and then speaking with them. This he so frequently repeated, that on the 24th of August, 1730, my brother and I walked with him to the castle.

"We were so well satisfied with our conversation there, that we agreed to go thither once or twice a week; which we had not done long, before he desired me to go with him to see a poor woman in the town who was sick. In this employment too, when we came to reflect upon it, we believed it would be worthwhile to spend an hour or two in a week, provided the minister of the parish, in which such people were, were not against it."

In this humble manner the first Methodist society was formed, and the great founder of Methodism was thus led to engage in active Christian service. The society thus formed increased in numbers, and when Whitefield joined them there were fifteen members. They soon earned the nickname of the "Holy Club," and finally of "Methodists." [They were probably first called "Methodists" as a criticism from fellow students because of the orderly way they used rules and methods to go about their religious affairs. The name was quickly adopted by the members who took it as a tribute.]

It is remarkable that God brought together in this little group two of the world's greatest preachers and one of the greatest hymn writers -- John Wesley, George Whitefield, and Charles Wesley. The society continued its good work until 1735, when Wesley left the University.

In 1735 John and Charles Wesley sailed for America, intending to become missionaries to the American Indians. On the vessel were a number of Moravian missionaries, and their pious conduct so deeply impressed Wesley that he began to study German so that he would be able to converse with them. A great storm arose, and while the English were screaming and in great distress, and Wesley's heart failed him, the Moravians calmly and joyfully united in prayer and praise. Conversations with these godly people during the voyage, and in Georgia, led the Wesleys to doubt their own conversion to Christ.

The Wesleys seem to have accomplished very little in Georgia. They tried to bring the people to their own high standard of living, and preached against the popular sins with such directness and personality as to provoke much opposition, and they finally deemed it wise to return to England.

Charles returned first, and John soon followed. John says, "I shook off the dust of my feet, and left Georgia, after having preached the gospel there (not as I ought, but as I was able) one year and nearly nine months." During the voyage home, he wrote, "I went to America to convert the Indians; but oh! who shall convert me!"

John reached England the day after Whitefield sailed for America. He preached in England in many places, but the results, as a rule, were not remarkable or encouraging. Much opposition was provoked and but little blessing seemed to attend his preaching. He conversed much with Peter Bohler and other Moravians, and was surprised when they proved to him that almost all the conversions to Christ mentioned in the Bible were instantaneous.

He now began to see that people do not grow into salvation, but that they are justified by faith the moment they believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. It was from the Moravians that the Methodists learned the doctrine of instantaneous conversion, regeneration, or justification by faith.

At first Charles Wesley opposed what he called "the new doctrine," but he was soon convinced of his error, and in May, 1738, through simple faith in Christ, he found a joy he had never known before. The news that Charles had obtained joy and peace in believing, greatly deepened John Wesley's desire for a real assurance of salvation. After a ten years' struggle to find peace and rest in Christ, the light began to dawn upon him on May 24, 1738.

In the morning of that day John's eyes fell upon 2 Peter 14, and then on the words, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." During the day he was on the verge of receiving rest and joy through faith in Christ. "In the evening," he says, "I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther's preface to the Romans.

"About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given, me, that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death."

The same year that John Wesley obtained this blessing through faith in Christ, he visited the Moravian settlement of Hernhuth, on Count Zinzendorf's estate in Germany. This visit greatly strengthened his faith, and he returned to England to preach with a new zeal the doctrine of instantaneous conversion and justification through faith in Christ. Many were now converted to Christ in his meetings almost everywhere that he went.

We learn from his Journal of October 15, 1738, and again from the entry made on October 3 of the same year, that Wesley had a great longing for a still deeper experience. "I was asking," he says in the latter entry, "that God would fulfill all His promises in my own soul."

His longings seem to have been satisfied, in a measure at least, in a memorable love-feast in London, when he and Whitefield and other prominent Methodist ministers were present at a union meeting of the Methodist societies.

Describing this meeting in his Journal, Wesley says, "Monday, January 1, 1739. Mr. Hall, Kinchin, Ingham, Whitefield, Hutchins, and my brother Charles were present at our love-feast in Fetter Lane, with about sixty of our brethren. About three in the morning, as we were continuing instant in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as we recovered a little from the awe and amazement at the presence of His majesty, we broke out with one voice, 'We praise Thee, O God, we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord.'"

Wesley must have received a powerful anointing of the Spirit at the time mentioned above, as after the experience described he seems to have preached with greater power. The Methodist societies now began to multiply rapidly, many souls being converted to God. The Church of England churches were closing rapidly against the Methodists when Whitefield began to preach to gigantic audiences in the open air at Bristol. He had returned from America in 1739, and was now working in harmony with the Wesleys.

After continuing in Bristol for some time, Whitefield desired John Wesley to come and take the work there off his hands so that he could go elsewhere. After seeking to know the Lord's will in the matter, Wesley complied with his request. Staid Churchman that he was, John had many misgivings about the propriety of preaching in the open air; but when he saw Whitefield preaching to the great multitudes in the open air at Bristol, his prejudices gradually melted away.

He says, "I could scarce reconcile myself at first to this strange way of preaching in the fields, of which he (Whitefield) set me an example on Sunday; having been all my life (till very lately) so tenacious of every point relating to decency and order, that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin if it had not been done in a church."

It was only after witnessing the marvelous results attending Whitefield's preaching in the open air that Wesley began to speak in open-air meetings, and he soon became famous as an open-air preacher. Until the day of his death he exercised the greatest care to have everything "done decently and in order," and to avoid all fleshly excitements, hallucinations, and delusions; but on the other hand he was careful to encourage every genuine work of the Holy Spirit. "Quench not the Spirit" was to him a solemn warning which he scrupulously and conscientiously tried to follow.

Wesley preached for some time in Bristol, to immense audiences sometimes numbering many thousands of people. His open-air meetings were as large, if not larger, than those of Whitefield. Powerful conviction of sin rested upon the people, and multitudes turned to Christ.

Three weeks after the remarkable love-feast experience in London, while Wesley was preaching in Bristol, "a well-dressed, middle-aged woman suddenly cried out, as in the agonies of death. She continued to do so for some time," says Wesley, "with all the signs of the sharpest anguish of spirit." She was finally able to "rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of her salvation."

On April 17, 1739, there was another remarkable case of conviction of sin in Bristol. Wesley had just expounded Acts 4, on the power of the Holy Spirit. "We then called upon God to confirm His Word," he says. "Immediately one that stood by, to our no small surprise, cried out aloud with the utmost vehemence, even as the agonies of death. But we continued in prayer, till a new song was put in her mouth, a thanksgiving unto our God.

"Soon after, two other people (well known in this place as laboring to live in all good conscience towards all men) were seized with strong pain, and constrained to roar for the disquietness of their heart." These also found peace. Many other wonderful cases of conviction of sin attended Wesley's preaching. It was a frequent occurrence for people to cry aloud or fall down as if dead in the meetings, so great was their anguish of heart, caused no doubt by the Holy Spirit convicting them of sin.

It is a well known fact that great and sudden emotion of any kind will often cause people to faint away. This fact doubtless accounts for people dropping down as if dead in revival and other meetings. The sudden realization of the enormity of their sins and of the doom of the impenitent, when the Spirit of God convicts them of sin, is so great that it absorbs all their mental faculties and they lose control of themselves and faint away.

Instances of this kind were frequently recorded by Wesley. On April 21, 1739, at Weavers Hall, Bristol, "a young man was suddenly seized with a violent trembling all over, and in a few minutes the sorrows of his heart being enlarged, sunk down to the ground." He also found peace.

On the 25th day of the same month, while Wesley was preaching, "Immediately one, and another, and another sunk to the earth. They dropped on every side as if thunderstruck."

Day after day Wesley preached to immense audiences in Bristol and Bath and suburbs of those cities. He then went to other places, preaching with the same anointing and power, and many Methodist societies sprang up as a result of his and Whitefield's preaching.

Many found fault with the outcries of those brought under conviction of sin. Describing one meeting, Wesley says, "My voice could scarce be heard amidst the groanings of some, and the cries of others, calling aloud to 'Him that is mighty to save.'" He says, "A Quaker who stood by, was not a little displeased at the dissimulation of these creatures, and was biting his lips and knitting his brows, when he dropped down as thunder-struck." Next day, in a little prayer meeting, "Just as we rose from giving thanks," says Wesley, "another person reeled four or five steps, and then dropped down."

A certain J H, a zealous Episcopalian, opposed the Methodists in every way possible, and went to his acquaintances, persuading them that people falling in the meetings and crying out in agony was "a delusion of the devil." While sitting at the table one day, "he changed color, fell off his chair, and began screaming terribly, and beating himself against the ground."

Almost everywhere that Wesley went, people were stricken down in his meetings in the manner already described. But these cases were the exception, and they usually found peace in Christ when prayed for. Most of the people had never heard such pointed and powerful preaching as Wesley's, and the suddenness with which they were brought face to face with their sinful and lost condition probably had much to do with the fact that many of them swooned away or cried out in agony.

People who had entertained false hopes of salvation had the masks torn away by the plain preaching of Wesley, and were stricken with great agony until they found peace with God. In one place where Wesley was preaching, the Lord began to make bare His arm, and, "One and another, and another was struck to the earth; exceedingly trembling at the presence of His power. Others cried with a loud and bitter cry, 'What must we do to be saved?"

The same evening, while Wesley was preaching, a man cried out in agony of soul. Soon after, "Another person dropped down close to one who was a strong asserter of the contrary doctrine. While he stood astonished at the sight, a little boy near him was seized in the same manner. A young man, who stood up behind, fixed his eyes on him, and sunk down himself as one dead."

The plain and fearless preaching of Wesley caused much opposition, and he was often mobbed and came near losing his life. But in the meetings, "The power of God came with His word; so that none scoffed, or interrupted, or opened his mouth." The scoffing and persecution came from those who had never been in the meetings or heard Wesley preach.

On his return to London, Wesley preached at Wapping, and twenty-six people were stricken down under conviction of sin. "Some sunk down and there remained no strength in them," he says. "Others exceedingly trembled and quaked; some were torn with a kind of convulsive motion in every part of their bodies."

Wesley had seen many hysterical and many epileptic fits, "but none of them were like these in many respects," he says. "I immediately prayed that God would not suffer those who were weak to be offended. But one woman was offended greatly; being sure, 'they might help it if they would; no one should persuade her to the contrary;' and was got three or four yards, when she also dropped down, in as violent an agony as the rest."

In London, Wesley preached in the open air to vast audiences of many thousands of people, as Whitefield and he had done in Bristol; and he afterwards held similar great out-door meetings all over Britain. Even when rain was falling or biting frost was on the ground, he sometimes preached to many thousands in the open air, and sometimes the sermons were two or three hours long.

When the doors of his home church at Epworth were closed against him, he preached standing on his father's tombstone in the churchyard, with an immense crowd around him. He often spoke with great liberty and power when preaching in these open-air meetings. On December 23, 1744, while preaching at Snow's Fields, "I found," he says, "such light and strength as I never remember to have had before. I had often wondered at myself (and sometimes mentioned it to others), that ten thousand cares of various kinds were no more weight to my mind than ten thousand hairs were to my head."

When worn out with overwork he often found new strength in answer to prayer. Writing concerning one of these occasions he says, "I then thought, 'Cannot God heal either man or beast by any means, or without any?' Immediately my weariness and headache ceased, and my horses' lameness in the same instant" (Journal, March 17, 1740).

Wesley was a great organizer and a strict disciplinarian. He expelled from the Methodist Societies everyone who was frivolous or trifling. He expelled them by the scores. He insisted upon modesty in dress, in abstinence from worldly amusements, and on daily holy living. It was his desire to have no one in the Methodist Societies except such as would adorn them by holy and consistent living.

Concerning the Society at Epworth, he wrote, "The Society here is not large, but God has wrought upon the whole place. Sabbath-breaking and drunkenness are no more seen in the streets; cursing and swearing are rarely heard."

Both John and Charles Wesley, as well as the other early Methodist preachers, were strong advocates of the doctrine of entire and instantaneous sanctification through faith. In his Works, Volume VII, Wesley says, "Many years since, I saw that without holiness no man shall see the Lord. I began by following after it and inciting all with whom I had any intercourse to do the same. Ten years after, God gave me a clearer view than I had before of the way how to attain it, namely, by faith in the Son of God. And immediately I declared to all, 'We are saved from sin, we are made holy by faith. This I testified in private, in public, in print, and God confirmed it by a thousand witnesses."

In his Journal, September 28, 1762, Wesley says, "Many years ago my brother frequently said, 'Your day of Pentecost is not fully come, but I doubt not it will; and you will then hear of people sanctified as frequently as you do now of people justified.' Any unprejudiced reader may observe, that it was now fully come. And accordingly we did hear of people sanctified in London, and most other parts of England; and in Dublin, and in many other parts of Ireland as frequently as of people justified, although instances of the latter were far more frequent than they had been for twenty years before."

Wesley's famous sermon on Christian Perfection was first published in 1733, and was often reprinted by him, without alteration, in later years. Deeming it complete, he simply reprinted it. Some have thought that he changed his mind with regard to the doctrine of Christian Perfection but in his Journal, in 1778, he wrote, "Forty years ago I knew and preached every Christian doctrine which I preach now."

In his Journal, of June 19 and 26, July 3, and August 4, 1762, and in numerous other places, he tells of people being sanctified. In his Journal of December 29, 1766, he says, "At five in the morning I again began a course of sermons on 'Christian Perfection,' if haply that thirst after it might return, which was so general a few years ago. Since that time how deeply have we grieved the Spirit of God! Yet two or three have lately received His pure love and a few more are brought to the birth.

"In 1727 I read William Law's Christian Perfection and Serious Call, and more explicitly resolved to be all devoted to God, in body, soul, and spirit. In 1730, I began to be homo unius libri [a man of one book]; to study (comparatively) no book but the Bible. I then saw in a stronger light than ever before, that only one thing is needful, even faith that worketh by the love of God and man, all inward and outward holiness, and I groaned to love God with all my heart, and to serve Him with all my strength.

"January 1, 1733, I preached the sermon on the circumcision of the heart; which contains all that I now teach concerning salvation from all sin, and loving God with an undivided heart. In the same year I printed, (the first time I ventured to print anything), for the use of my pupils, A Collection of Forms of Prayer; and in this I spoke explicitly of giving the whole heart and the whole life to God. This was then as it is now, my idea of Perfection, though I should have started at the word.

"In 1735, I preached my Farewell Sermon, at Epworth in Lincolnshire. In this likewise I spoke with the utmost dearness of having one design, one desire, one love, and of pursuing the one end of our life in all our words and actions.

"In January, 1738, I expressed my desires in these words:

O grant that nothing in my soul

May dwell but Thy pure love alone;

O may Thy love possess me whole,

My joy, my treasure and my crown.

Strange flames far from my heart remove;

My every act, word, thought be love.

"I am still persuaded that this is what the Lord Jesus hath bought me with His blood."

Wesley was almost constantly traveling and preaching. "The world is my parish" was his famous motto. In 1774 he wrote that he never traveled less than 4,500 miles a year. For many a year his annual record was 8,000 miles, and during this period he seldom preached less than 5,000 times a year. He traveled as an itinerant preacher, after he was 36 years of age, 225,000 miles, and preached more than 40,000 sermons, some of them to congregations of above 20,000 people. He rose at four o'clock in the morning and preached at five nearly every day.

In 1789 Wesley's sight and strength were pretty well exhausted and he felt that he was "an old man," but he continued to preach and write until within a few days of his death. With the power of God manifestly present, he expired triumphantly on March 2, 1791, his dying testimony being; "Best of all, God is with us."

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GEORGE WHITEFIELD

1714-1770

The name of George Whitefield, the prince of open-air preachers, will ever rank high among those of great soul winners. Perhaps no preacher was ever gifted with a more powerful voice for open air work, or ever preached to larger out-door congregations than did Whitefield. It is estimated that he preached to a hundred thousand people at Cambuslang, in Scotland, and that ten thousand people professed conversion to Christ as the result of his sermon.

Although frail in body and having weak lungs, God seemed to endow him with supernatural strength for open-air work at a time when church doors were closed against him. Benjamin Franklin claimed to have tested the voice of Whitefield to find out how far he could hear him distinctly, and he heard him clearly for over a mile.

Whitefield's grandfather was a clergyman in the Church of England, but his father was a wine merchant and innkeeper. George was born in 1714. He was the youngest of a family of seven -- six sons and a daughter. His father died when he was an infant, and his mother, like the mother of Mr. Moody, was left to struggle through poverty with a large family. When four years old, George had the measles, which through neglect left one of his lively dark blue eyes with a slight squint. This, however, did not mar the charm of his countenance.

His early life was stained with lying, cheating, evil speaking, small thefts, and other juvenile sins. In this he much resembled the celebrated Saint Augustine. He would sometimes run into the dissenting meetinghouse during services and shout the name of the worthy minister: "Old Cole! Old Cole! Old Cole!" and then he was off in a hurry.

A member of the same chapel once asked him what he intended to be. "A minister," he said. "But I would take care never to tell stories in the pulpit like the old Cole," he added. The worthy old minister afterwards rejoiced to hear Whitefield relate anecdotes and incidents with a vividness and power far exceeding his own capabilities.

Whitefield was a wild, unrestrained lad. His mother tried to keep him from taking part in the business, but he sometimes sold drinks over the counter and kept the money. "It would be endless," he says, "to recount the sins and offences of my younger days." However, he had many good thoughts and compunctions of conscience. Thus, he did not use all the money he stole from his mother, but gave some of it to the poor. Among the books that he stole from others were devotional books as well as books of romance, but he afterwards restored them fourfold.

He was very high-tempered, and once when someone who took pleasure in exasperating him had greatly provoked him, he went to his room and on his knees, with tears in his eyes, prayed over the 118th Psalm. He was familiar with the Bible, and although he ridiculed sacred things, he was fond of the thought of some day being a clergyman, and he frequently imitated the clergyman's manner of reading prayers, or intoning them in the manner so common at that time.

In the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester, Whitefield was christened as a baby, made fun as a boy of ten, and preached his first sermon as a deacon at the age of twenty-one. When he was ten, his mother married again, but this does not seem to have improved their condition, financially at least. At the common school of St. Mary de Crypt, young Whitefield's memory and elocutionary powers won him great distinction in the amateur theatricals of which he was very fond.

At fifteen years of age he gave up the common school and commenced helping his mother in the housework at the Bell Inn. In the evenings he often read his Bible and even composed several sermons. Finally his brother took charge of the inn, and George could not agree with the sister-in-law, and so left and went to another brother in Bristol. Here he first felt the power of God's Spirit working upon his heart.

He felt a great longing for the things of God. After two months he returned home and these convictions and longings left him. His mother gave him the best she could \-- a bed on the floor. No business seemed to open up for him, and one day he said to his sister, "Sister, God intends something for me that we know not of." His mother also seems to have had presentiments of his coming greatness.

After remaining idle for some time, he found that there was opportunity for him to work his way as a servitor [performing menial duties in exchange for assistance for college funds], through Oxford University. He went to school again to prepare for Oxford, and was led off into atheism by sinful companions. This did not last long, and he finally made up his mind to prepare to take communion on his seventeenth birthday.

A dream about God, and a powerful impression that he was to preach the gospel seem to have greatly sobered him. A brother also gave him a straight talk about his rapid changes from saint to sinner and from sinner to saint

In 1732, when eighteen, he went to Oxford. At Oxford, to his great delight and after long desiring it, he was taken into the band of Methodists which then numbered fifteen. A book entitled The Life of God in the Soul of Man, loaned to him by Charles Wesley, opened Whitefield's eyes to see that outward works and outward forms and ceremonies would not save the soul. When he read that "true religion is a union of the soul with God, or Christ formed within us," a ray of light instantaneously darted in upon his soul, and from that moment, but not till then, did he know that he must be a new creature.

He was "born of God" long before the Wesleys, his devout companions, were brought out into the clear light of the new birth. He wrote to his acquaintances concerning his conversion, and they charitably supposed him to be insane. He shared great persecution with others of the "Holy Club," or "Methodists." The contempt and shame he suffered at Oxford helped to prepare him for the still greater persecutions of his later life.

Owing to the fact that the Wesleys did not yet understand regeneration, or the new birth, Whitefield got his eyes off Christ, and began once more to look to external works for salvation. He went through many sore trials and temptations, and spent whole days and nights in fasting and prayer for "deliverance" from the proud, hellish thoughts that used to crowd into his soul."

He says, "I never ceased wrestling with God till He blessed me with victory over them."

Before obtaining victory through faith, he sought it by means of severe fasting, eating coarse food, dressing poorly, and by practicing other severe austerities and penances. He prayed one night out under a tree in the coldest weather, and he lived for some time on sage tea without sugar, and coarse bread. Finally his austerities so weakened his body that he could scarcely creep upstairs.

The Wesleys could help him but little, but after seven weeks of self-centered seeking, his eyes were once more directed to Christ as his Savior, and peace and joy returned to his soul. He says, "But oh! with what joy, joy unspeakable, even joy that was full of, and big with glory, was my soul filled, when the weight of sin went off; and an abiding sense of the pardoning love of God, and a full assurance of faith broke in upon my disconsolate soul!"

Ever afterwards he seems to have had clearer views concerning salvation through faith, and he was soon the means of leading several of his companions into the experience of the new birth, both at Gloucester and Oxford.

He now began joyfully to read the Word of God, to visit the sick, and to perform other services for the Master. Soon his friends urged him to be ordained. His great humility led him to decline, but being patient and flexible in all matters regarding himself, though firm as a rock in matters of conviction, he was persuaded to go through the ceremony of ordination.

As he had previously dreamed, the bishop sent for him and received him kindly, and made him a present of some gold, and informed him that though he had previously made up his mind not to ordain anyone under three-and-twenty years, still he was willing to ordain him whenever he desired it.

It was at the moment of his ordination that Whitefield seems to have made a complete consecration of himself to God, and to have received the anointing of the Spirit and power which made him so mighty a worker in God's harvest field.

It was on June 20, 1736, at the age of twenty-one, that he was ordained by the good Bishop of Gloucester, Dr. Benson. In Account of God's Dealings, Section IV Whitefield thus describes what he experienced at that time:

"About three days before the time appointed for my ordination, the Bishop came to town. The next day I sent his lordship an abstract of my private examination on these two questions, 'Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' And, 'Are you called according to the will of the Lord Jesus Christ and the laws of this realm?'

"The next morning I waited on the bishop. He received me with much love, telling me he was glad I was come; that he was satisfied with the preparation I had made, and with the allowance given me by Sir John Phillips. 'I had myself,' he said, 'made provision for you of two little parishes, but since you choose to be at Oxford, I am very well pleased. I doubt not but you will do much good.'

"Upon this I took my leave, abashed with God's goodness to such a wretch, but withal exceedingly rejoiced that in every circumstance He made my way into the ministry so very plain before my face.

"This, I think, was on Friday. The day following I continued in abstinence and prayer. In the evening I retired to a hill near the town, and prayed fervently for about two hours, in behalf of myself and those that were to be ordained with me.

"On Sunday morning I rose early, and prayed over Saint Paul's epistle to Timothy, and more particularly over that precept, 'Let no man despise thy youth.' When I went up to the altar, I could think of nothing but Samuel standing, a little child, before the Lord with a linen ephod. When the bishop laid his hands upon my head, my heart was melted down, and I offered my whole spirit, soul, and body, to the service of God's sanctuary.

"I read the Gospel at the bishop's command with power, and afterwards sealed the good confession I had made before many witnesses by partaking of the holy sacrament of our Lord's most blessed body and blood."

That God really touched the lips of Whitefield with the divine fire of His Holy Spirit, at the time of his ordination, seems proved by the fact that he began to preach with great anointing and power on the next Sunday after his ordination. His first sermon was delivered to an immense audience in his old home church at Gloucester.

Complaint was afterwards made to the bishop that fifteen people were driven mad by this sermon. The good bishop replied that he hoped that madness would not be forgotten before the next Sunday!

After his ordination, Whitefield returned to Oxford with great joy to complete his course at the University. While there, he was invited to occupy a friend's pulpit for two months in an obscure part of London. He accepted the invitation, and although his youth provoked sneers at first, great crowds flocked to hear him. At Oxford his rooms were often filled with praying students. He left the University full of fervor, zeal, and the constraining power of the Holy Spirit.

After preaching a few sermons in England with great anointing and power, he sailed for the United States. His few sermons in Bristol, just before he left England, stirred the whole city. On his second visit, while waiting for his vessel to sail for America, crowds flocked out to meet him on his way to the city.

Although he was only twenty-two years of age, Bristol was completely under his spell. Quakers and Nonconformists generally left their chapels to hear him preach. The "new birth" preached with power from on high seemed to attract all conditions of men. Every nook and corner of the church was crowded, and half the people had to be turned away. Many wept bitterly when he left the city, as did the people of Gloucester when he left that city.

In London, while waiting for his vessel, he was compelled to preach, and the large churches would not hold his audiences. Thousands went away for want of room. On Sunday the streets were crowded with people going to meeting long before the break of day. The stewards could hardly carry the donations made for the orphanage he hoped to start in America, so heavy and so many were the large English pennies of that day, which formed the bulk of the collections. Soon the clergy became jealous, and bitter opposition set in against Whitefield, and churches were closed against him.

About Christmas, 1737, he set sail for America as weeping crowds bade him farewell. He left the charity schools of England £1,000 [£215,000 or US$300,000 today] richer for his brief labors there. All onboard the vessel were greatly blessed by his ministrations during the voyage.

When Whitefield reached his destination in Georgia, he had but little opportunity to preach to large crowds, as two hundred people were a large congregation in the frontier settlements. But he won his way to the hearts of the people, and scores were brought to Christ.

He returned to England in 1738, and began to work in co-operation with the Wesleys, who had been led out into the light concerning regeneration, or the "new birth," during his absence in America. God was greatly blessing them, but their preaching was too outspoken to suit lukewarm, worldly, and fashionable churches, and the doors of these churches were rapidly closing against them.

Whitefield preached in one church where a thousand people were unable to get inside, and this suggested to him the idea of outdoor preaching, but even his Methodist brethren at that time regarded this as a "mad idea." Soon after this, the people were so deeply moved by his preaching that they began to say aloud "Amen" to many things he said. This seems to have been a new thing in those days.

Excluded from many of the Established Anglican Churches, Whitefield began his open-air preaching at Kingswood, Bristol, in 1739. There the rough coal miners gathered to hear him, and his audiences doubled and trebled until he found himself preaching to 20,000 people. Tears streamed down the cheeks of the coal-begrimed men, and hundreds and hundreds were convicted of sin and brought to Christ.

Whitefield had now left off using printed prayers and written sermons, and prayed and preached extempore as he felt led by the Spirit of God. Wherever he went, the people flocked to hear him in such great crowds that the churches would no longer have contained them, had they been open to him.

When leaving Bristol, the crowd was so great at one of the Methodist Societies that he had to leave by mounting a ladder and climbing over the tiling of an adjoining house. Wesley continued the great work begun by Whitefield in Bristol.

When evicted from a Church of England in London while preaching, Whitefield continued his sermon in the churchyard. He then began his open-air meetings at Moorfields, at that time one of the largest, vilest, and most notorious areas of London. Great was the astonishment of the London rowdies to see the tall, graceful young clergyman, with mild blue eyes, clad in gown and cassock, standing on the wall addressing them on the second coming of Christ.

The same day he addressed a more refined audience of 20,000 people on Kennington Common. After this he continued to preach to great audiences of from 20,000 to 40,000 in both of these places. It is said that he received more than a thousand written requests for prayer at one of his meetings at Moorfields. The singing of the vast audiences could be heard for a distance of two miles.

When the people at Kennington Common heard that he was to leave for America, their weeping was so loud as to almost drown his voice. A similar scene was enacted at Moorfields. At Hackney Marsh he preached at a horse race to about 10,000 people, and the horses got but little attention.

On his second and subsequent trips to America, Whitefield met with great success. He preached to large audiences and won many souls to Christ. It was claimed that every student in Harvard University professed conversion to Christ during his meetings there. Benjamin Franklin was deeply impressed with his preaching, and the celebrated Jonathan Edwards wept while listening to his sermons.

On his return to England, Whitefield preached to great audiences in the tabernacle built for him at Moorfields, and also to vast audiences in many other parts of Britain. Perhaps his greatest meeting was at Cambuslang, near Glasgow, Scotland, where he is said to have preached to an audience variously estimated at from 30,000 to 100,000 people.

Many there were bathed in tears for an hour and a half while he was preaching, and it is claimed that ten thousand people professed conversion to Christ under this sermon. All Britain seemed in a holy fervor over his preaching. One Sunday evening the Vicar of Bideford in Devon warned the people against Whitefield's preaching there, but next morning Whitefield preached to an audience of 10,000. Even the nobility gladly sat at his feet, and thousands of people would often stand in the rain listening to him.

The frailty of Whitefield's body was so great that the marvelous range of his voice seemed almost supernatural. The clearness and range of his voice has probably never been equaled by that of any other open-air preacher.

Whitefield preached with amazing vividness. One time he was preaching to sailors, and he described a vessel wrecked in a storm at sea. He portrayed her as on her beam and just ready to sink, and then he cried aloud, "What next?" The picture was so real that the sailors sprang to their feet and cried out, "The long boat! Take the longboat!"

At another time he pictured a blind man walking towards the edge of a precipice without knowing where he was going, until finally he was right on the edge of the precipice. The portrayal was so dramatic and real that when he reached this point in his sermon, Lord Chesterfield, who was present, sprang to his feet and cried aloud, "My God, he is gone!"

Famous actors like Garrick, Foote, and Shuter loved to hear Whitefield preach. Garrick was so deeply impressed with the oratorical powers of Whitefield that he declared he believed Whitefield could make people weep by the mere enunciation of the word Mesopotamia.

Whitefield was not a theologian by nature, and found but little time for reading books. Most of the books he did find time to read were of the Old School Calvinistic type so prevalent at that time, and his mind became confirmed in the Calvinistic views of theology. This led to a controversy between him and the Wesleys, as the latter rejected the predestined teaching of Old School Calvinism.

Their friendship for each other continued, but Whitefield did not work in such full accord and harmony with the Wesleys as before the controversy. But both the Wesleys and Whitefield were mightily used by God, each preaching the gospel with the degree of light given to him.

Whitefield probably did not have so logical a mind as John Wesley. He was sometimes accused of rambling in his sermons, and of not keeping to his subject. His reply to this was, "If men will continue to ramble like lost sheep, then I will continue to ramble after them."

Like Wesley, Whitefield was a strenuous worker. When in his prime, he seldom preached less than fifteen times a week. It is estimated that he preached at least eighteen thousand sermons, or an average of ten times a week for thirty-four years. He often preached as many as four or five times in one day.

After intensely longing to be with the Master for over a score of years, he died in 1770, during his seventh visit to America, having preached up to and on the day preceding his death.

[At Whitefield's request made shortly before his death, Wesley preached at three memorial services held for Whitefield in London. Wesley spoke affectionately and respectfully of Whitefield, and said, "There are many doctrines of a less essential nature with regard to which even the most sincere children of God ... are and have been divided for many ages. In these we may think and let think; we may 'agree to disagree.'"

In The Life and Times of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A., Founder of the Methodists: Volume 1 (Luke Tyerman, 1876) we read: Wesley and Whitefield henceforth were divided, and yet united. Each pursued his own separate course; but their hearts were one. Their creeds were different; but not their aims. "Mr. Wesley," writes Whitefield in 1742, "I think is wrong in some things; but I believe he will shine bright in glory. I have not given way to him, or to any, whom I thought in error, no not for an hour; but I think it best not to dispute, where there is no probability of convincing." And again, in a letter to Wesley himself, on October 11, 1742, he says: "I had your kind letter, dated October 5. In answer to the first part of it, I say, 'Let old things pass away, and all things become new.' I can also heartily say 'Amen' to the latter part of it. 'Let the king live for ever and controversy die.' It has died with me long ago. I thank you, dear sir, for praying for me. I have been upon my knees praying for you and yours, and that nothing but love, lowliness, and simplicity may be among us!"]

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JOHN FLETCHER

1729-1785

"Fletcher was a saint, as unearthly a being as could tread the earth at all," says Isaac Taylor, one of his contemporaries. "I conceive Fletcher to be the most holy man who has been upon earth since the apostolic age." says Dr. Dixon, one of the greatest Methodist preachers of Fletcher's day.

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, pronounced Fletcher the most unblameable man, in every respect, that within fourscore years he had found in Europe or America. He chose Fletcher as his successor in directing the Methodist Societies, but Fletcher though younger than Wesley, was called to his eternal reward before Wesley.

Remarkable as it may seem, Fletcher was not a native of the country where he achieved so great fame as a writer and preacher. Jean Guilliaume de la Fléchère, for such was his full name in his native tongue, was born in Switzerland, his home being on the shores of Lac Léman [Lake Geneva] in one of the loveliest spots in the world, not far from Geneva, the Jura and Alps Mountains, the famous Castle of Chillon, and Lausanne. His parents belonged to the nobility and were highly esteemed. Jean was born in the year 1729.

Wesley states that in his childhood, Fletcher had much of the fear of God, and great tenderness of conscience. One day, when he was about seven he had misbehaved, and his nurse said to him, "You are a naughty boy. Do you know that the devil is to take away all naughty children?"

The maid's remark troubled him. He began to pray, and did not cease until he believed that God had forgiven him. His conduct was exemplary from this on. Like Christmas Evans and many others, he had many narrow escapes from death in his youth. Three times he was almost drowned, and once he fell a long distance, but landed on some soft mortar. God preserves the lives of those whom He has chosen for some great work.

Fletcher received a good education and took the highest honors in the University of Geneva. He then went to Lentzburg to study German, Hebrew, and higher mathematics.

From his earliest youth he felt a call to preach, but afterwards he abandoned all hope of ever entering the ministry. He says, "I think it was when I was seven years of age that I first began to feel the love of God shed abroad in my heart, and that I resolved to give myself up to Him, and to the service of His Church, if ever I should be fit for it; but the corruption which is in the world, and that which was in my own heart, soon weakened, if not erased those first characters which grace had written upon it."

Later, he says, "I went through my studies with a design of entering into orders; but afterwards upon serious reflections, feeling I was unequal to so great a burden, and disgusted with the necessity I should be under to subscribe to the doctrine of predestination, I yielded to the desire of my friends, who would have me go into the army."

It is remarkable that one born in the stronghold of Calvinism, as was Fletcher, should conceive so great a dislike for the principal doctrine of that system of theology, and should become the greatest writer against the Calvinistic system of belief.

Although one of so gentle a nature must have revolted at the thought of bloodshed and battle, he chose to become a soldier rather than preach the doctrines his heart and mind could not endorse.

He accepted a captain's commission to fight for Portugal against Brazil, but an accident providentially prevented him from engaging in actual warfare. Just before his ship sailed, a serving maid let the tea kettle fall on his leg, and scalded him so badly that he could not go. Soon after this, his uncle procured a colonel's commission for him in the Dutch army. But his uncle died at the time peace was concluded.

In 1752 Fletcher went to England to learn the English language. He became tutor to the two sons of Thomas Hill, Esq., of Shropshire. It was while thus employed that he became soundly converted to God. A vivid dream he had concerning the final judgment aroused him to see the backslidden condition of his heart. "For some days," he says, "I was so dejected and harassed in mind as to be unable to apply myself to anything."

While in this state, he heard about the Methodists. He was told that they were a people who did "nothing but pray," and that they were "praying all day and all night"; and he resolved to find them. After hearing them, he became more and more conscious that some inward change was necessary to make him happy.

After hearing a preacher named Green, Fletcher was convinced that he did not understand the nature of saving faith, although he had received a premium in the University for his writings on theological and divine subjects.

God opened his eyes more and more to his sinfulness, until he wrote in his diary on January 12, 1755: "All my righteousness is as filthy rags. I am a very devil, though of an inferior sort, and if I am not renewed before I go hence, hell will be my portion to all eternity." He writes how he went on sinning and repenting, and sinning again; but calling on God's mercy through Christ.

"On January 21st," he says, "I began to write a confession of my sins, misery, and helplessness, together with a resolution to seek Christ even unto death. But, my business calling me away, I had no heart to go on with it. On Thursday, January 23, his fast-day, he was so tempted, and was so despondent that he almost gave all hope.

"Having continued my supplication till near in the morning," he says, "I then opened my Bible, and fell on these words: 'Cast thy burden on the Lord, he shall sustain thee. He will not suffer the righteous to be moved.' [Psalm 55:22.]

"Filled with joy, I fell again on my knee to beg of God that I might always cast my burden upon Him. I took my Bible again, and fell on these words, 'I will be with thee; fear not, neither be dismayed.' [Isaiah 41:10.] My hope now greatly increased, and I thought I saw myself conqueror over sin, hell, and all manner of affliction.

"With this beautiful promise I shut my Bible, and as I shut it I cast my eye on the words, 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in My name, I will do it.' [John 14:13.] So having asked perseverance and grace to serve God till death, I went cheerfully to take my rest."

Such is the account of Fletcher's conversion to Christ as related in his diary and gleaned from various letters. His widow adds the following, written after his death:

"I subjoin what I have heard him speak concerning this time. He still pleaded with the Lord to take a fuller possession of his heart, and to give a fuller manifestation of His love, till one day, when in earnest prayer and lying prostrate on his face, he saw, with the eye of faith, our Saviour on the cross, and at the same time these words were spoken with power to his heart:

"Seized by the rage of sinful men,

I see Christ bound, and bruis'd,

and slain,

'Tis done, the Martyr dies!

His life to ransom ours is given,

And lo! the fiercest fire of heaven

Consumes the sacrifice.

"He suffers both from men and God,

He bears the universal load

Of guilt and misery!

He suffers to reverse our doom

And lo! my Lord is here become

The bread of life to me.

"Now all his bands were broken. His freed soul began to breathe a purer air. Sin was beneath his feet. He could triumph in the Lord. From this time he walked in the ways of God, and, thinking he had not leisure enough in the day, he made it a constant rule to sit up two whole nights in the week for reading, prayer, and meditation."

Fletcher was so humble and so unselfish that he said or wrote but little concerning himself, and it is difficult therefore to give any detailed account of his deeper spiritual experiences. His writings, however, like those of Wesley, abound with teaching concerning perfect love and entire sanctification.

Like Wesley, he believed that while men are imperfect in knowledge and in many other ways, it is possible for them to be perfect in love, or to love God with all the strength and intelligence they possess. He believed that the promise of the baptism of the Holy Spirit was for believers today as much as at the day of Pentecost.

Although Fletcher wrote but little concerning himself, his widow wrote a brief account of how he was led into a deeper experience than conversion. Referring to his conversion, she says, "Some time after this, he was favored with a further manifestation of the love of God, so powerful, that he said it appeared to him as if his body and soul would be separated. Now all his desires centered in one, that of devoting himself to the service of his precious Master, which he thought he could best do by entering holy orders."

The fullest account of how Fletcher obtained this deeper inward experience is given in a letter written by the famous Spirit-filled Hester Ann Rogers. Describing a meeting held in 1781, she says, "When I entered the room, where they were assembled, the heavenly man (Fletcher) was giving out the following verses with such animation as I have seldom witnessed:

Near us, assisting Jesus, stand;

Give us the opening heavens to see;

Thee to behold at God's right hand,

And yield our parting souls to Thee.

My Father, O my Father, hear,

And send the fiery chariot down;

Let Israel's famous steeds appear,

And whirl us to the starry crown.

We, we would die for Jesus too;

Through tortures, fires,

and seas of blood,

All triumphantly break through,

And plunge into the depths of God.

"After this, Mr. Fletcher poured out his full soul in prayer, or praise, or spiritual instruction; and every word that fell from his lips appeared to be accompanied with an anointing from above.

"After dinner, I took an opportunity to beg him to explain an expression he had used in a letter to Miss Loxdale; namely, that on all who are renewed in love, God bestows the gift of prophecy. He called for the Bible; then read and explained Acts 2, observing that to prophesy in the sense he meant, was to magnify God with the new heart of love, and the new tongue of praise, as they did, who on the day of Pentecost were filled with the Holy Ghost.

"He insisted now that believers are called upon to prove the same baptismal fire; that the day of Pentecost was the opening of the dispensation of the Spirit -- the great promise of the Father; and that the latter-day glory, which he believed was near at hand, should far exceed the first effusion of the Spirit. Seeing then that they, on the day of Pentecost, bare witness to the grace of our Lord, so shall we; and, like them, spread the flame of love.

"After singing a hymn, he cried, 'O to be filled with the Holy Ghost! I want to be filled! O, my friends, let us wrestle for a more abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit!' To me, he said, 'Come, my sister, will you covenant with me this day to pray for the fullness of the Spirit? Will you be a witness for Jesus?'

"I answered with flowing tears, 'In the strength of Jesus I will.'

"He cried, 'Glory, glory be to God! Lord, strengthen Thine handmaid to keep this covenant, even unto death!'

"He then said, 'My dear brethren and sisters, God is here! I feel Him in this place. But I would hide my face in the dust because I have been ashamed to declare what He has done for me. For many years I have grieved His Spirit. I am deeply humbled, and He has again restored my soul. Last Wednesday evening He spoke to me by these words, Reckon yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

"'I obeyed the voice of God; I now obey it; and tell you all, to the praise of His love -- I am freed from sin. Yes, I rejoice to declare it, and to be a witness to the glory of His grace, that I am dead unto sin, and alive unto God, through Jesus Christ, who is my Lord and King!

"'I received this blessing four or five times before; but I lost it, by not observing the order of God who has told us: With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. But the enemy offered his bait, under various colours, to keep me from a public declaration of what God had wrought. When I first received this grace, Satan bid me wait awhile, till I saw more of the fruits.

"'I resolved to do so; but I soon began to doubt of the witness, which before I had felt in my heart; and in a little time I was sensible I had lost both. A second time, after receiving this salvation, I was kept from being a witness for my Lord by the suggestion, Thou art a public character -- the eyes of all are upon thee -- and if, as before, by any means thou lose the blessing, it will be a dishonor to the doctrine of heart-holiness. I held my peace, and again forfeited the gift of God.

"Mr. Fletcher then, with lifted hands, cried, 'Who will thus be saved? Who will believe the report? You are only in an improper sense called believers who reject this. Who is a believer? One who believes a few things which God has spoken? Nay, but one who believes all that ever proceeded out of His mouth. Here then is the word of the Lord: As sin abounded, grace shall much more abound! As no good thing was in you by nature, so now no evil thing shall remain. Do you believe this? Or are you a half believer only?

"'Come! Jesus is offered to thee as a perfect Saviour. Take Him, and He will make thee a perfect saint. O ye half believers, will you still plead for the murderers of your Lord? Which of these will you hide as a serpent in your bosom? Shall it be anger, pride, self-will, or accursed unbelief? O be no longer fooled! Bring these enemies to thy Lord, and let Him slay them.'"

The above words of Mrs. Rogers give us a glimpse of the deeper inward experiences of the sainted Fletcher, although his own modesty prevented him from giving any detailed account of the marvelous manifestations of God's Spirit to him, and through him. He walked and talked and lived in the Spirit as few others have done. He shrank from publicity and controversy, and was one of the most retiring of men.

Fletcher was a great student of prophecy, and a firm believer in the pre-millennial coming of Christ. He was very abstemious in diet, eating very little and only vegetables, butter, and milk. Every moment of his time was employed in some useful manner, and he conversed but little except on Christian subjects.

About the year 1756 Fletcher joined the Methodists, and soon after he began to think seriously of entering the ministry. In 1757 he was ordained as a priest in the Church of England, and from this time forward he became Wesley's greatest helper and co-laborer. For three years he preached with great anointing and power in the Methodist Societies, and wherever God opened a door for him.

Occasionally he had an opportunity of preaching in a Church of England, but his preaching against sin was so bold that the people were aghast and astonished at him. But he was already becoming famous as a preacher, and was a great favorite with the Wesleys, Whitefield, the Countess of Huntington, and the Methodists generally. Finally, in 1760, he became vicar of the Anglican Church at Madeley, which position he held until his death.

The first ten years at Madeley were spent in preaching, visiting among his people, and in a profound study of theology and religious works of all kinds. It was just the preparation Fletcher needed to make him the powerful defender of Methodism. John Wesley opposed his settling down at Madeley, but later probably saw the wisdom of it.

After 1765, Methodist Societies were formed in the neighborhood of Madeley, and Fletcher frequently preached for them. Enormous crowds flocked to hear him, and the buildings would seldom contain the people. In 1765 he visited Bath and Bristol, preaching in the large meeting houses belonging to the Countess of Huntington. She wrote concerning his preaching, "Deep and awful are the impressions made on every hand. Dear Mr. Fletcher's preaching is truly apostolic."

When about forty years of age he visited his home in Switzerland, and preached with power to the descendants of the Albigenses, and to other congregations. Everywhere he was regarded as almost super-human. An old Swiss man wept because Fletcher could not remain longer. "Oh, sir," he said, "how unfortunate for my country! During my lifetime it has produced but one angel of a man, and now it is our lot to lose him!"

Fletcher also visited Italy in 1770, and with bared head and almost seraphic countenance he walked along the Apian Way on which Paul trod as a prisoner on his way to Rome. In 1776 Fletcher made an evangelistic tour in Britain with the Wesleys.

For some time Fletcher was president of Trevecca College [Coleg Trefeca in Wales], the college founded by the Countess of Huntington for training young men for the ministry. There he was regarded as almost an angel. Mr. Benson, the headmaster says, "He was received as an angel of God. It is impossible for me to describe the veneration in which we all held him." He also describes how when Fletcher visited the college, the students lost interest in all their studies, and laid aside everything to listen to him as he told them how that being filled with the Spirit was a better qualification for the ministry than classical learning.

He then spent hours on his knees praying for the students to be filled with the Holy Spirit. On one of these occasions he was so overwhelmed with the Holy Spirit's power that he cried out, "O my God, withhold Thy hand, or the vessel will burst!" but he afterwards felt that he should have prayed for God to enlarge the vessel!

In 1771 the great controversy arose between those who held the Calvinistic views of theology [predestination] and those who held the Arminian, and Fletcher became the great defender of the Arminian views held by the Methodists. [Simplistically, that we have freewill, and will be accepted if we come to Jesus in faith for salvation and eternal life.] Wesley was too busy with the care of all the Methodist Societies to devote much time to the controversy, but Fletcher defended the Methodist theology in a way which left little to be desired, and the kindly spirit in which he did it caused a better feeling among all parties concerned.

In his great work entitled Checks to Antinomianism [that the moral law is of no use or obligation, because faith alone is necessary to salvation] Fletcher so harmonized the passages of Scripture on predestination, or election, and those on man's free agency and moral responsibility, as to show that they in no way contradict each other. This book became one of the greatest bulwarks of Methodist theology ever produced.

The Methodist preachers in the Conference burst into tears, and Wesley was deeply moved when, in 1784, Fletcher requested to be placed on the roll of supernumerary ministers. The year following, he departed this life after resting as in sleep for twenty-four hours.

It must not be supposed that so holy a man as Fletcher had no temptations. He told Wesley how Satan had often tempted him to put an end to his own life. He was so passionate by nature that he often pleaded and prayed the whole night to get victory over his temper, and sometimes lay prone upon the floor in an agony of grief as he plead with God for the victory; and yet he was famous for his gentleness.

In his Life of Fletcher, Wesley says, "For twenty years and upwards before his death, no one ever saw him out of temper, or heard him utter a rash expression, on any provocation whatever."

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CHRISTMAS EVANS

1766-1838

"Revival is God bending down to the dying embers of a fire just about to go out, and breathing into it until it bursts into flame." (Christmas Evans)

Wales has had many famous preachers, among them Howell Harris, Daniel Rowlands, Robert Roberts, John Elias, William Williams, Henry Rees, John Jones, and Daniel Davies of Swansea. But Christmas Evans, "the one-eyed preacher of Anglesey," seems to have exceeded all the others both in fame and spiritual power.

He once said to his friend Richard Rowlands, "Brother, the truths, the confidence, and the power I feel, will cause some to dance for joy in parts of Wales."

"They will," replied Richard, with tears in his eyes. And so it was.

Christmas Evans, often called "The John Bunyan of Wales," was born on Christmas day, 1766, hence his name Christmas. His parents were very poor. His father died when he was nine, and little Christmas did chores for six years for a cruel, ungodly, drunken uncle. His education was neglected, and at the age of seventeen he could not read a word.

Many accidents and misfortunes befell him. Once he was stabbed in a quarrel, once nearly drowned, once he fell from a high tree with an open knife in his hand, and once a horse ran away with him and dashed at full speed through a low and narrow passage.

After his conversion to Christ, some of his former ungodly companions waylaid him at night and unmercifully beat him, so that he lost one eye in consequence. But God mercifully preserved him through all these trials.

He left his cruel uncle at the age of seventeen, and soon afterwards, during a revival, he identified himself with the church. From an early age he had many religious impressions, but he did not decide for Christ until his seventeenth year. New desires then awoke in his soul and he began to study to learn to read, and to improve his mind.

He soon felt a call to the ministry, and this feeling was deepened by a remarkable dream he had concerning the Second Coming of Christ. He felt that he was only a mass of sin and ignorance, and was much discouraged by his early efforts to preach. He memorized the prayers and sermons of others, and tried to pray and preach them.

In 1790 he was ordained by the Baptists, and commenced work as a missionary among some of the humbler churches in Wales. For three years before joining the Baptists he suffered much from doubts regarding his own conversion to Christ, but soon after uniting with them all his burden of doubts rolled away and he received "the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." [Isaiah 63:1]

He was surprised at first to see people brought to God through his ministry, but the Lord greatly blessed him, and his meetings began to attract widespread attention. He made a tour of South Wales on foot and sometimes preached as many as five times during one Sunday. Although he was shabbily dressed and awkward, large crowds came to hear him preach, and often there were tears, weeping, and uncontrollable excitement. His sermons took great hold upon the people.

At twenty-six, Evans began to preach among the churches on the island of Anglesey on the Welsh coast, and there he remained for twenty years preaching the gospel with much success. [He spoke and wrote mainly in the Welsh language.] Here many of the churches had been carried away by the [Scottish] Sandemanian teachings [that saving faith is reduced to intellectual assent to the gospel teaching about Christ, rather than requiring a personal commitment]. The leader of the local sect was a brilliant and cultured orator, and Christmas Evans was drawn into their beliefs.

Contact with the Sandemanians brought Christmas Evans into a place where he had lost much of the spirit of prayer and sweetness so necessary for the enjoyment of a Christian life. He felt an intense need and longing for a closer fellowship with God. He thus describes the manner in which he sought and obtained the richer and fuller Christian experience which he so much desired, and which set his soul on fire with divine anointing and power such as he had never experienced before.

"I was weary," he says, "of a cold heart towards Christ, and His atonement, and the work of His Spirit -- of a cold heart in the pulpit, in secret prayer and in study; especially when I remembered that for fifteen years before, that heart had been burning within me as if I were on the way toward Emmaus with Jesus. A day came at last, a day ever to be remembered by me, when I was on my way from Dolgellau to Machynlleth, and climbing up towards Cadair Idris.

"I felt it my duty to pray, though my heart was hard enough and my spirit worldly. After I had commenced praying in the name of Jesus, I soon felt as if the shackles were falling off, and as if the mountains of snow and ice were melting within me. This engendered confidence in my mind for the promise of the Holy Ghost. I felt my whole spirit relieved of some great bondage, and as if it were rising up from the grave of a severe winter.

"My tears flowed copiously, and I was constrained to cry aloud and pray for the gracious visits of God, for the joy of his salvation, and that He would visit again the churches in Anglesey that were under my care. I embraced in my supplications all of the churches, and prayed by name for most of the preachers of Wales.

"This struggle lasted for three hours. It would come over me again and again, like one wave after another, like a tide driven by a strong wind, until my physical power was greatly weakened by weeping and crying. Thus I gave myself up wholly to Christ, body and soul, talents and labors -- all my life -- every day, and every hour that remained to me, and all my cares I entrusted into the hands of Christ.

"The road was mountainous and lonely, so that I was alone, and suffered no interruption in my wrestlings with God. This event caused me to expect a new revelation of God's goodness to myself and the churches. Thus the Lord delivered me and the people of Anglesey from being swept away by the evils of Sandemanianism.

"In the first service I held after this event, I felt as if I had been removed from the cold and sterile region of spiritual ice into the pleasant lands of the promises of God. The former striving with God in prayer, and the longing anxiety for the conversion of sinners which I had experienced at Lleyn, were now restored. I had a hold of the promise of God.

"The result was, when I returned home, the first thing that attracted my notice was that the Spirit was working also in the brethren in Anglesey, inducing in them a spirit of prayer, especially in two of the deacons who were particularly persistent that God should visit us in mercy, and render the Word of His grace effectual amongst us in the conversion of sinners."

It was doubtless about the time of this remarkable experience of the anointing of the Holy Spirit, that Christmas Evans wrote A Solemn Covenant with God, to every article of which he signed his initials. This covenant of consecration was as follows:

COVENANT WITH GOD

I give my soul and body unto Thee, Jesus, the true God, and everlasting life. Deliver us from sin, and from eternal death, and bring me into life everlasting. Amen. C. E.

I call the day, the sun, the earth, the trees, the stones, the bed, the table and the books, to witness that I come unto Thee, Redeemer of sinners, that I may obtain rest for my soul from the thunders of guilt and the dread of eternity. Amen. C. E.

I do, through confidence in Thy power, earnestly entreat Thee to take the work into Thine own hand, and give me a circumcised heart, that I may love Thee; and create in me a right spirit, that I may seek Thy glory. Grant me that principle which Thou wilt own in the Day of Judgment, that I may not then assume pale-facedness, and find myself a hypocrite. Grant me this, for the sake of Thy most precious blood. Amen. C. E.

I entreat Thee, Jesus, the Son of God, in power, grant me, for the sake of Thy agonizing death, a covenant interest in Thy blood which cleanseth; in Thy righteousness, which justifieth; and in Thy redemption, which delivereth. I entreat an interest in Thy blood, for Thy blood's sake, and a part in Thee, for Thy name's sake, which Thou hast given among men. Amen. C. E.

O Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, take for the sake of Thy cruel death, my time, and strength, and the gifts and talents I possess; which, with a full purpose of heart, I consecrate to Thy glory in the building up of Thy Church in the world, for Thou art worthy of the hearts and talents of men. Amen. C. E.

I desire Thee, my great High Priest, to confirm, by Thy power from Thy High Court, my usefulness as a preacher, and my piety as a Christian, as two gardens nigh to each other; that sin may not have place in my heart to becloud my confidence in Thy righteousness, and that I may not be left to any foolish act that may occasion my gifts to wither, and I be rendered useless before my life ends. Keep Thy gracious eye upon me, and watch over me, O my Lord, and my God, for ever! Amen. C. E.

I give myself in a particular manner to Thee, O Jesus Christ the Saviour, to be preserved from the falls into which many stumble, that Thy name, in Thy cause, may not be blasphemed or wounded, that my peace may not be injured, and that Thy people may not be grieved, and that Thine enemies may not be hardened. Amen. C. E.

I come entreating Thee to enter into a covenant with me in my ministry. Oh, prosper me as Thou didst prosper Bunyan, Vavasor, Powell, Howell Harris, Rowlands, and Whitefield. The impediments in the way of my prosperity remove. Work in me the things approved of God that I may attain this. Give me a heart "sick of love" to Thee, and to the souls of men. Grant that I may feel the power of Thy Word before preaching it, as Moses felt the power of his rod before he felt the effect of it on the land and waters of Egypt. For the sake of Thy precious blood, Jesus, my all in all, grant me this. Amen. C. E.

Search me now, and lead me in the paths of judgment. May I see in this world what I really am in Thy sight, that I may not find myself otherwise when the light of eternity shall dawn upon me and open my eyes in the brightness of immortality. Wash me in Thy redeeming blood. Amen. C. E.

Give me power to trust in Thee for food and raiment, and to make known my requests to Thee. O let Thy care be over me as a covenant privilege betwixt Thee and me, and not simply as a general care which Thou showest in feeding the ravens that perish and clothing the lily that is cast into the oven, but remember me as one of Thy family, and as one of Thy unworthy brethren. Amen. C. E.

Take upon Thyself, O Jesus, to prepare me for death, for Thou art God; and Thou needest but to speak the word. If it be possible \-- but Thy will be done -- let me not linger in sickness, nor die a sudden death without bidding adieu to my brethren, but rather let me die with them around me, after a short illness. May everything be put in order ready for that day of passing from one world to another, so that there may be no confusion or disorder, but a passing away in peace. O grant me this for the sake of Thine agony in the garden. Amen. C. E.

Grant, O blessed Lord, that no sin may be nourished or fostered in me which may cause Thee to cast me off from the work of Thy sanctuary, like the sons of Eli; and for the sake of Thine infinite merits let not my days be longer than my usefulness. Let me not become, at the end of my days, like a piece of lumber in the way of the usefulness of others. Amen. C. E.

I beseech Thee, my Redeemer, to present these supplications of mine before the Father; and oh, inscribe them in Thy book with Thine own immortal pen, while I am writing them with my mortal hand in my book on earth. According to the depths of Thy merit, and Thy infinite grace, and Thy compassion, and Thy tenderness toward Thy people, O attach Thy name in Thine Upper Court to these humble supplications of mine; and set Thine amen to them, even as I set mine on my side of the covenant. Amen.

Christmas Evans, Llangefni, Anglesey, April 10, 1802.

After his entire consecration to God, and after receiving the anointing of the Holy Spirit while he wrestled in prayer on his way from Dolgellau to Machynlleth, Christmas Evans began to preach with a new anointing and power. A great revival spread from preacher to people all over the island of Anglesey, and then over the whole of Wales.

The people were often so wrought upon by Evan's sermons that they literally danced for joy, and their actions obtained for them the nickname of "the Welsh jumpers." Often the audiences were moved to weeping and tears. Once when Evans preached concerning "The Demoniac of Gadara," and vividly portrayed the deliverance of the demoniac, the wonder of the people, and especially the joy of the demoniac's wife and children when he returned home healed and saved, the audience laughed and wept alternately.

One biographer says that "the place was a perfect Bochim for weeping." [See Judges 2:1-5.] Shouts of prayer and praise mingled together. One who heard this wonderful sermon says that at last the people seemed like the inhabitants of a city which had been shaken by an earthquake, that in their escape rushed into the streets falling upon the earth screaming, and calling upon God!

"The powerful sermons, the breath of heaven, the weeping, the praising, the return of sinners to God," now characterized Evans' meetings wherever he went. This was especially true when he preached his famous Graveyard Sermon in which he described the world as dead and buried in the graveyard of Law, with Justice guarding the gates, but Mercy coming to unlock them. This sermon has been published almost everywhere. The preaching of it brought conviction of sin like a deluge over the people.

The scene resembled the one at Shotts, in Scotland, when five hundred people professed conversion to Christ under the preaching of a sermon by John Livingston. It was similar to that at Llanidloes, Wales, when a thousand people decided for Christ under one sermon preached by Michael Roberts. Or it resembled the time when twenty-five hundred people were added to the churches as the result of one sermon preached by John Elias, the mighty Welsh preacher.

Evans was "a man the spell of whose name, when he came into a neighborhood, could wake up all the sleepy villages, and bid their inhabitants pour along up by the hills, and down by the valleys, expectant crowds watching his appearance with tears, and sometimes hailing him with shouts."

"It must be said, his are very great sermons," says Reverend Paxton Hood, "The present writer is almost disposed to be bold enough to describe them as the grandest Gospel sermons of the last hundred years." One biographer describes his manner while preaching as follows: "Christmas Evans, meantime, is pursuing his way, lost in his theme. Now his eye lights up, says one who knew him, like a brilliantly flashing star, his dear forehead expands, his form dilates in majestic dignity; and all that has gone before will be lost in the white-heat passion with which he prepares to sing of Paradise lost and Paradise regained."

The anointing of the Holy Spirit was the great secret of Evans' power. Writing to a young minister, he says, "You will observe that some heavenly ornaments, and power from on high, are visible in many ministers when under the Divine irradiation, which you cannot approach to by merely imitating their artistic excellence, without resembling them in their spiritual taste, fervency, and zeal which Christ and His Spirit work in them.

"This will cause, not only your being like unto them in gracefulness of action, and propriety of elocution, but will also induce prayer for the anointing of the Holy One, which worketh mightily in the inward man. This is the mystery of effective preaching. We must be endued with power from on high."

Someone said to Evans, "Mr. Evans, you have not studied Dr. Blair's Rhetoric." Evans, to whom Dr. Blair with his rules was always as dry as Gilboa, replied: "Why do you say so, when you just now saw hundreds weeping under the sermon? That could not be, had I not first of all been influenced myself, which, you know is the substance and mystery of all rules of speaking."

Evans collected much money for the building of churches, the Baptist churches of Anglesey being more than doubled under his ministry. In one place where he was raising money to build a chapel, the money came very slowly, although the audiences were very large. There had been much sheep stealing in the neighborhood, and Evans decided to use this fact to advantage in collecting money. He told the people that undoubtedly some of the sheep stealers must be present in the congregation, and he hoped that they would not throw any money into the collection.

A big collection was taken. Those who did not have any money to give borrowed from their neighbors to put in the collection!

"Dear old Christmas," as he was familiarly called in his old age, finished his course with joy, and fell asleep in Christ July 23, 1838, with a song of victory on his lips.

[At the age of twenty-six, Christmas Evans was living on the island of Anglesey with his wife, Catherine Jones, whom he married on Christmas Day, 1792. They remained there for more than thirty years. Catherine died childless in 1823. His second wife, Mary, was with him to the end.]

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LORENZO DOW

1777-1834

Someone has said that all Spirit-filled Christians appear peculiar or eccentric to the people of the world, because "the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God" (1 Corinthians 2:14). This was especially true of Lorenzo Dow, the quaint but famous pioneer Methodist preacher who, about the beginning of the nineteenth century, traveled about the world on foot and on horseback, preaching the gospel to tens of thousands, and winning multitudes to Christ

Born in Connecticut, October 16, 1777, in his character, Lorenzo Dow very much resembled John Bunyan, but he seems to have had a quiet vein of humor which was lacking in the latter. Like Bunyan he went astray with wicked boys in his youth, and learned many of their ways. Like Bunyan he was haunted by terrible dreams and visions. And like Bunyan he was plunged into awful agony and despair by imagining that God had reprobated [predestined] him to be damned.

Lorenzo's parents were born in the same town, but were descended from English ancestors. They had a son and four daughters beside Lorenzo, who was next to the youngest. They tried to educate the children well both in religion and common learning. Lorenzo came near dying at the age of two, and he always suffered from a weak constitution.

When he was between three and four years old he was one day playing with a companion, when he fell into so deep a muse concerning God and heaven and forgot about his play. He asked his companion if he ever said his prayers, morning or night, and when his friend replied "No," Lorenzo said, "Then you are wicked and I will not play with you," and he went into the house.

When Lorenzo was eight, his parents removed to another vicinity, the youth of which were very vile, wicked and corrupt. He soon learned their ways, and his serious thoughts and impressions soon left him. But one day he killed a bird, and the sight of it gasping struck horror to his heart, as it made him think of death, and he was afraid to die.

At ten, he promised to serve God if He would restore his sick friend to health. "God granted my desire," he says, "but I soon forgot my promise." Later he promised to serve God if he should get the prize in a certain draw or lottery. "No sooner had I got the prize, which was a shilling, than I broke my promise," he says.

When past the age of thirteen, and about the time Wesley died (1791), he had a vision in which Wesley appeared to him three times in succession and warned him that he had better pray. "Keen conviction seized my heart," he says. "I knew I was unprepared to die. Tears began to run down plentifully, and I again resolved to seek the salvation of my soul."

After this, he broke off from his old companions and sought earnestly for salvation; but he had no one to pray for him and show him how to be saved. He was also greatly troubled over the doctrine of unconditional election, or reprobation [predestination], as taught by many in those days. Referring to his dream about Wesley, he says, "Frequently before and after the above, the enemy of souls harassed me much with the aforementioned doctrine of reprobation, etc., my view of which excited such enmity and rage against the Supreme Being, as the author of my most wretched helpless fate, that I cursed and swore, and blasphemed His name, throwing sticks and stones toward heaven, defying Him to come down and destroy me. It seemed as if I were unable to refrain from acting often in this manner."

Through brooding over the matter, he became so fully persuaded that he was predestined to be damned that he decided to take his own life. Loading a gun he went out into the woods for the purpose, but when he was about to pull the trigger he decided to wait a little while longer.

About this time the Methodists came to his town. They were everywhere spoken against, but he concluded that if he was one of God's elect they could do him no harm, and if he was eternally predestined to be damned for eternity they could do him no injury, and he went to their meetings.

He was somewhat surprised to see that the Methodists looked very much like other people. The preacher, Hope Hull, described his condition so accurately that he had to hold on to his cousin to keep from falling off his seat, so great was his agitation. People were being converted all around him and his conviction became almost unendurable.

He went to a prayer meeting, and his conviction of sin became so overwhelming that he fell down on the road several times on his way home, and he hardly realized what he was doing. Reaching home he prayed for hours until he fell into a slumber from pure exhaustion. He then had a fearful vision of hell. In his suffering he awoke, "And, oh! how glad I was to find that it was only a dream," he says.

He began to pray earnestly, and finally said, "Lord, I give up! I submit; I yield; I yield. If there be mercy in heaven for me, let me know it; and if not, let me go down to hell and know the worst of my case. As these words flowed from my heart," he says, "I saw the Mediator step in, as it were, between the Father's justice and my soul, and these words were applied to my mind with great power: 'Son, thy sins which are many are forgiven thee; thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.'

"The burden of sin and guilt and the fear of hell vanished from my mind, as perceptibly as a hundred pounds weight falling from a man's shoulder. My soul flowed out in love to God, to His ways and to His people; yea, and to all mankind."

Having found the Savior, he immediately wanted to tell others. "My soul was so happy," he says, "that I could scarcely settle to work; and I spent the greatest part of the day in going from house to house through the neighborhood, to tell the people what God had done for me."

He soon felt a powerful call to preach the gospel, but felt that he was only an illiterate child, and resisted the call as a temptation from the devil. The more he resisted the call, the greater was his misery. He tried in every way to get rid of the impression that he must preach, but the hand of God was heavy upon him. Like Jonah, he was afflicted in soul and body until he was literally compelled to preach.

After he began to preach, he met with so many discouragements that he tried again and again to stop preaching, but the hand of affliction was so heavy upon him that he was forced to begin again. He said that God showed him plainly that he could not live unless he preached the gospel, and that if he stopped preaching he would die.

Like the apostle Paul, he could say, "For though I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of: for necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel! For if I do this thing willingly, I have a reward; but if against my will, a dispensation of the gospel is committed unto me" (1 Corinthians 9:16-17).

Lorenzo sometimes resolved that saved or damned he would not preach, but intense physical suffering compelled him to change his mind, and then his health would improve. He once had a vision of Justice ready to cut him down if he did not preach the gospel. He seems to have been taught many things in dreams and visions, of which he had more than almost any other person with whose history the writer is acquainted.

He was licensed to preach by the Methodists, and in 1796, at the age of 19, he became an itinerant preacher. His presiding elder and others criticized his ignorance, his behavior, his conceit, his manner of preaching, and so on, until his heart was almost ready to break with discouragement and he longed to stop preaching. Sometimes the conference took away his credentials, and he sought to hold this up to God as an excuse for not preaching, but the hand of the Lord was heavy upon him until he resumed his preaching.

Dow's manner of preaching was bold, full of zeal, and so uncompromising as to arouse the anger of many; but God blessed his labors in many places, though in others he could scarcely obtain a hearing. Often in his early ministry his clothes were worn out, and he had no money to buy new ones, but in some way or other the Lord always supplied his need.

In 1796, while still in his nineteenth year, Dow was deeply convinced of his need of a deeper spiritual experience. During that year he wrote, "I never felt the plague of a hard heart as I do of late, nor so much faith as I now have that inbred corruption will be done away, and I filled with perfect peace, and enabled to rejoice evermore."

Referring to this period, he also says, "Sometimes I was so happy, and the times so powerful, I would hope the winter was past and gone. But soon it would return again."

From his Journal, of Sunday, May 23, 1802, we copy his account of how he obtained the deeper spiritual experience for which his soul was craving:

"When I was on the Orange (Connecticut) Circuit, I felt something within that needed to be done away. I spake to one and another concerning the pain I felt in my happiest moments, which caused a burden but not guilt. Some said one thing and some another; but none spoke to my case, but seemed to be like physicians that did not understand the nature of my disorder.

"Thus the burden continued, and sometimes felt greater than the burden of guilt for justification, until I fell in with T. Dewey, on Cambridge Circuit. He told me about Calvin Wooster, in Upper Canada, that he enjoyed the blessing of sanctification, and had a miracle wrought in his body, in some sense.

"The course of nature turned in consequence, and he was much owned and blessed of God in his ministerial labors. I felt a great desire arise in my heart to see the man, if it might be consistent with the Divine will; and not long after I heard he was passing through the circuit and going home to die.

"I immediately rode five miles to the house, but found he was gone another five miles further. I went into the room where he was asleep; he appeared to be more like one from the eternal world, than like one of my fellow mortals. I told him, when he awoke, who I was and what I had come for. Said he: 'God has convicted you for the blessing of sanctification, and that blessing is to be obtained by the single act of faith, the same as the blessing of justification.'

"I persuaded him to tarry in the neighborhood a few days; and a couple of evenings after the above, after I had done speaking one evening, he spake, or rather whispered out an exhortation, as his voice was so broken, in consequence of praying, in the stir of the Upper Canada, as from twenty to thirty were frequently blessed at a meeting.

"He told me that if he could get a sinner under conviction, crying for mercy, they would kneel down a dozen of them, and not rise until he found peace; for, said he, we did believe that God would bless him, and it was according to our faith.

"At this time he was in a consumption, and a few weeks after expired; and his last words were, as I am informed, 'Ye must be sanctified or be damned,' and casting a look upwards, went out like the snuff of a candle, without terror; and while whispering out the above exhortation, the power which attended the same, reached the hearts of the people.

"Some who were standing or sitting fell like men shot in the field of battle, and I felt a tremor to run through my soul and every vein, so that it took away my limb power, so that I fell to the floor, and by faith, saw a greater blessing than I had hitherto experienced. Or in other words, felt a Divine conviction of the need of a deeper work of grace in my soul.

"Feeling some of the remains of the evil nature, the effect of Adam's fall, still remaining, and it my privilege to have it eradicated or done away; my soul was in an agony -- I could but groan out my desire to God. He came to me, and said, 'Believe the blessing is now.' No sooner had the words dropped from His lips, than I strove to believe the blessing mine now, with all the powers of my soul, then the burden dropped or fell from my heart, and a solid joy, and a gentle running peace filled my soul.

"From that time to this I have not had the ecstasy of joy or that downcast of spirit as formerly; but more of an inward, simple, sweet running peace from day to day, so that prosperity or adversity doth not produce the ups and downs as formerly. But my soul is more like the ocean. Whilst the surface is uneven by reason of the boisterous wind, the bottom is still calm; so that a man may be in the midst of outward difficulties, and yet the center of the soul may be stayed on God.

"The perfections of angels are such that they cannot fall away, which some think is attainable by mortals here; but I think we cannot be perfect as God, for absolute perfection belongs to Him alone; neither as perfect as angels, nor even as Adam before he fell, because our bodies are now mortal, and tend to clog the mind, and weigh the spirit down.

"Nevertheless, I do believe that a man may drink in the Spirit of God, so far as to live without committing willful, or known, or malicious sins against God, but to have love the ruling principle within, and what we say or do to flow from that Divine principle of love and not from a sense of duty, though subject to trials, temptations, and mistakes at the same time."

After receiving the experience described above, Lorenzo Dow met with much greater success in his preaching. During the same year, 1796, his meetings kindled a revival flame that spread to a number of places. In 1797 his whole circuit was stirred into a flame of revival, and this made his conference regard him more favorably.

God greatly blessed his labors. Crowds flocked to hear him, and multitudes were seized with deep conviction of sin and were led to Christ under his preaching. Wherever he went, whether in America, England, or Ireland, similar results followed his labors. Sometimes the people flocked together in thousands to hear him, and they were converted to Christ by the scores. In one place the people were crying for mercy for eleven hours without interruption.

Dow's unique methods of presenting the truth, and the remarkable results attending his labors, made him famous the world over. When he entered a city and began preaching, the effects of his sermons were soon noticeable in the solemn countenances of the people as they walked along the streets.

He held many great camp meetings in which from one to ten thousand people heard his preaching. He was so careful to follow the leadings of the Holy Spirit in all that he did, that one preacher said concerning him, "He is Quakerized!"

There were some strange manifestations in the meetings held by Dow, as in the meetings held by Peter Cartwright and in the great revivals at the beginning and near the middle of the nineteenth century. The most remarkable of these were the exercises known as "the jerks," which were so prominent a feature in the great Cumberland Revival. People of all denominations, and many who were not professing Christians, were seized with the jerking exercises. But it was principally the persecutors, scoffers, or half-hearted among professing Christians who suffered with this strange "visitation from God," as some have called it.

"Trembling took hold of the hypocrites," says Dow. Writing concerning this jerking exercise, he says, "The wicked are more afraid of it than the smallpox or yellow fever; these are subject to it; but the persecutors are more subject to it than any, and they sometimes have cursed, and swore, and damned it whilst jerking. There is no pain attending the jerks, except they resist it, which if they do, it will weary them more in an hour than a day's labor; which shows that it requires the consent of the will to avoid suffering."

Describing one of his great meetings, held in 1804, Dow says, "I observed about thirty to have the jerks, though they strove to keep still as they could. These emotions were involuntary and irresistible, as any unprejudiced eye might discern."

Describing another of his meetings in which there were some remarkable physical manifestations, he says, "Soon nine were sprawling on the ground, and some were apparently lifeless. The doctors supposed they had fainted, and desired water and fans to be used. I replied, 'Hush!' Then to show the folly of my ideas, they attempted to determine it with their skill, but to their surprise, their pulse was regular.

Some said, 'It is fictitious, they make it [up].' I answered, 'The weather is warm, and we are in a perspiration, whilst they are as cold as corpses, which cannot be done by human art.'

"Here some supposing they were dying, whilst others suggested, 'It is the work of the devil,' I observed, 'If it be the devil's work, they will use the dialect of hell when they come to.'

"Some watched my words, in great solemnity, and the first and the second were soon brought through, happy, and all in the course of the night."

So remarkable was the power manifested in Dow's meetings, and so numerous were his dreams and visions which came true, many looked upon him as having supernatural powers. They thought he could detect criminals, cure the sick, and so on.

Several amusing incidents arc related concerning the manner in which he detected thieves when people insisted that he should do so. While traveling one Sunday to a place where he had an appointment to preach, Dow overheard a man swearing bitterly. He went up to him and asked him the cause. The man answered that he had an axe stolen the night before.

"Come along with me to the meeting," said Dow, "and I will find your axe."

The man consented, and when they arrived near the church, Dow stopped and picked up a large stone, which he carried with him into the church and laid upon the front of the pulpit.

The subject of his sermon was well fitted to this particular object, and when in the midst of it, he stopped short, took the stone in his hand, and raising it with a threatening attitude, said: "A man in this neighborhood had an axe stolen last night, and if the person who stole it does not dodge, I will hit him on the forehead with this stone," at the same time making a violent gesture as if he were about to throw the stone as he swung round in the pulpit.

A person present was observed to dodge his head violently, and he proved to be the guilty person!

In another place a person who had been robbed entreated Dow to discover the thief. Dow told him to gather all the suspected people into a certain room, and to get a soot-blackened pot and a rooster. He did so, and Dow put the rooster under the pot, and then had the room darkened. He then explained that he wanted everyone present to go up to the pot in the dark, and to touch it with his fingers. He assured them that when the guilty person touched the pot the rooster would crow.

After all had gone up to the pot the room was lighted, and it was discovered that one person present had no soot on his fingers. He had been afraid to touch the soot-blackened pot, and afterwards proved to be the guilty person.

The above incidents are fair samples of the many novel and eccentric doings of Lorenzo Dow.

In 1799 he went to Ireland, and while riding on a canal boat he observed that there was much gambling on the boat. He tried to purchase the cards from the captain, but he refused to sell them. He finally gave the deck of cards to Dow, who surprised him by throwing them overboard. The gamblers were afterward convicted of sin.

At Hacketstown, Ireland, two young ladies in a home where Dow remained overnight were deeply absorbed in fixing some fashionable superfluities on their clothes.

Dow said to them: "Every time you wear them, remember another suit you'll have, the muffler and winding sheet."

This made such an impression upon their minds that they were both brought to Christ as a result.

Unique as Dow's methods were, they were often owned of God. Sometimes he told the people that he would ask God to send some sickness on them if they did not repent. One time he hired a servant to pray for a whole day. She said that she did not have time to pray, and he gave her a dollar for her day's time, with the understanding that she was to spend the time in prayer.

At another place Dow urged a young lady to decide whom she would serve, God or the devil. She chose the latter, but was converted to Christ soon afterward. At one place where Dow was preaching, the young men wanted to leave the meeting when the preaching became too powerful for them. Here Dow preached with his back against the door to keep them from going out, and about two thirds of them were brought under deep conviction of sin.

In 1834, at the age of 57, Lorenzo Dow laid down his cross and took up his crown. He endured much suffering for the sake of his Master, but he won many souls to Christ, and will shine as the stars for ever and ever.

In personal appearance Dow was about 5 feet 10 inches in height, was rather light complexioned, and much marked with the smallpox. He had small, light eyes, dark brown hair and eyebrows, small features and short visage.

The originality of his methods is shown even in the title of his diary, or journal, which is, The Dealings of God, Man, and the Devil; as Exemplified in the Life, Experience, and Travels of Lorenzo Dow [1833].

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PETER CARTWRIGHT

1785-1872

In the front rank of the pioneer Methodist preachers of America was Peter Cartwright. He was famous not because of his education or learning, for he had but little of these, but his great spiritual power and native common sense and shrewdness made him known all over America, and in many other lands as well.

"It must be remembered," he says, "that many of us early traveling preachers, who entered the vast wilderness of the West at an early day, had little or no education, no books, and no time to read or study them if we could have had them."

Peter Cartwright was one of the principal agents used by God in the great revival near the beginning of the nineteenth century. Few, if any, other preachers ever conducted so many camp meetings or conducted them with so great success. We might almost say that Cartwright was without equal as a camp meeting preacher. In his Autobiography he has related many thrilling incidents, humorous or otherwise, concerning his experiences in camp meetings and elsewhere.

Cartwright was born in Virginia in 1785. His parents were poor, and they soon moved to the backwoods of Kentucky, where Cartwright grew up without an education. His mother was a Methodist, but his father was an unbeliever. Occasionally a Methodist itinerant preacher would visit their cabin. Finally a little church was organized near them.

Many criminals and desperate characters had fled to this frontier settlement, and it was called "Rogues' Harbor." There was no newspaper or regular school within forty miles of the place. Almost everything eaten by the people was grown by them, and the clothes they wore were homespun from cotton raised by themselves. They had but little communication with the outside world.

Cartwright says, "I was naturally a wild, wicked boy, and delighted in horse racing, card playing and dancing. My father restrained me but little, though my mother often talked to me, wept over me, and prayed for me, often drew tears from my eyes; and though I often wept under preaching and resolved to do better and seek religion, yet I broke my vows, went into young company, rode races, played cards and danced."

After a school was started in his neighborhood, Cartwright attended it for a short time, but the teacher was a poor one and Cartwright made but little progress in his studies. He says, "I, however, learned to read, write, and cipher a little, but very imperfectly."

As time rolled on, the population increased, civilization advanced, and a number of churches sprang up in the community. About this time the great Cumberland Revival began.

Describing the beginning of the famous Cumberland Revival, Cartwright says, "Somewhere between 1800 and 1801, in the upper part of Kentucky, at a memorable place called Cane Ridge, there was appointed a sacramental meeting by some of the Presbyterian ministers; at which meeting, seemingly unexpected by ministers or people, the mighty power of God was displayed in a very extraordinary manner. Many were moved to tears and cried aloud for mercy."

This was the beginning of one of the greatest revivals of religion known to history. "The meeting was protracted for weeks," continues Cartwright. Ministers of almost all denominations flocked in from far and near. The meeting was kept up by night and day. Thousands heard of the mighty work and came on foot, on horseback, in carriages and wagons. It is supposed that there were in attendance at times during the meeting from twelve to twenty-five thousand people. Hundreds fell prostrate under the mighty power of God, as men slain in battle.

"From this camp meeting," Cartwright adds later, "for so it ought to be called, the news spread through all the churches, and through all the land, and it excited great wonder and surprise; but it kindled a religious flame that spread all over Kentucky, and through many other States. And I may here be permitted to say, that this was the first camp meeting ever held in the United States, and here our camp meetings took their rise."

The revival spread to Cartwright's neighborhood, and a great camp meeting was held there. The people crowded to this camp meeting from far and near. "The power of God was wonderfully displayed;" he says. "Scores of sinners fell under the preaching, like men slain in a mighty battle. Christians shouted aloud for joy."

Cartwright had previously been convicted of sin, and he went to this camp meeting feeling that he was a lost, undone sinner, and he was even tempted to believe that he was forever predestined to damnation, although he did not endorse the doctrines of unconditional election and reprobation.

He says, "In 1801, when I was in my sixteenth year, my father, my eldest half-brother, and myself, attended a wedding about five miles from home, where there was a great deal of drinking and dancing which was very common in marriages in those days. I drank little or nothing; my delight was in dancing. After a late hour in the night we mounted our horses and started for home. I was riding my racehorse.

"A few minutes after we had put up the horses, and were sitting by the fire, I began to reflect on the manner in which I had spent the day and evening. I felt guilty and condemned. I rose and walked the floor. My mother was in bed. All of a sudden my blood rushed to my head, my heart palpitated, in a few minutes I turned blind. An awful impression rested on my mind that death had come, and I was unprepared to die. I fell on my knees, and began to ask God to have mercy on me."

His mother, hearing him praying, was soon at his side. They prayed long and earnestly. Finally he went to bed, after promising the Lord that he would seek until he found salvation.

Next morning he rose "feeling wretched beyond expression." He sold his racehorse, burned his pack of cards, and tried to read the Bible and pray. "I was so distressed and miserable," he says, "that I was incapable of any regular business."

He agonized and prayed for days in this wretched, miserable condition. Three months passed by and still he did not find the pardon of his sins. It was at this time that the great camp meeting already described began in his neighborhood.

"To this meeting I repaired," he says, "a guilty miserable sinner. On the Saturday evening of said meeting I went with weeping multitudes and bowed before the stand, and earnestly prayed for mercy. In the midst of a solemn struggle of soul, an impression was made on my mind, as though a voice said to me, 'Thy sins are all forgiven thee.'

"Divine light flashed all around me, unspeakable joy sprung up in my soul. I rose to my feet, opened my eyes, and it really seemed as if I was in heaven. The trees, the leaves on them, and everything seemed, and I really thought were, praising God. My mother raised the shout, my Christian friends crowded around me and joined me in praising God; and though I have been since then, in many instances, unfaithful, yet I have never, for one moment, doubted that the Lord did, then and there, forgive my sins, and give me religion."

Cartwright joined the Methodist Church the same year that he was converted to Christ. He went to several camp meetings among the Methodists and Presbyterians, and took quite an active part in the meetings. "I was enjoying great comfort and peace," he says.

Next year after his conversion to Christ, Cartwright was given an exhorter's license. He had already exhorted some when he felt led of the Spirit to do so, but he was not expecting any license from the Church. In the fall of the same year his presiding elder gave him permission to form a circuit in the new region of Kentucky, to which he was then moving.

"I told him," says Cartwright, "just to give me a simple letter of membership. That although I did feel at times that it was my duty to preach, I had little education, and it was my intention to go to school next year."

After moving to the new region of Kentucky, Cartwright attended school, but was so persecuted on account of his Christian faith that he soon gave up school and began to organize a circuit and engage in the work of the ministry. He had good success, organized a number of class meetings, and had many conversions.

Cartwright describes his call to the ministry and his entire consecration and enduement with power from on high as follows:

"Brother Garret, the new elder, called on me at my father's and urged me to go on this Circuit with Brother Lotspeich. My father was unwilling, but my mother urged me to go, and finally prevailed. This was in October, 1803, when I was a little over eighteen years of age. I had a hard struggle to give my consent, and although I thought it my duty to preach, yet I thought I could do this and not throw myself into the ranks as a circuit preacher, when I was liable to be sent from Greenbrier to Natchez. No members hardly to support a preacher, the Discipline only allowing a single man eighty dollars, and in nine cases out of ten he could not get half that amount. These were times that tried men's souls and bodies too.

"At last I literally gave up the world and started, bidding farewell to father and mother, brothers and sisters, and met brother Lotspeich at an appointment in Logan County. He told me I must preach that night. This I had never done; mine was an exhorter's dispensation. I tried to beg off, but he urged me to make the effort.

"I went out and prayed fervently for aid from heaven. All at once it seemed to me as if I could never preach at all, but I struggled in prayer. At length I asked God, if He had called me to preach, to give me aid that night, and give me one soul, that is, convert one soul under my preaching, as evidence that I was called to this work.

"I went into the house, took my stand, gave out a hymn, sang, and prayed. I then rose, gave them for a text Isaiah 26:4: 'Trust ye in the Lord for ever; for in the Lord Jehovah there is everlasting strength.'

"The Lord gave light, liberty, and power; the congregation was melted into tears. There was present a professed infidel. The word reached his heart by the eternal Spirit. He was powerfully convicted, and, as I believe, soundly converted to God that night. He joined the Church, and afterward became a useful member of the same."

Cartwright must have received the baptism of the Spirit in power while preaching that night. He felt his utter inability to preach without power from God, and wrestled in prayer, like Jacob of old, until he obtained the blessing. He was then nineteen. He continued to preach with great anointing and power.

His meetings were attended by marvelous manifestations of spiritual power, and multitudes of souls were won to Christ in them. Often people were stricken down in his meetings under an overwhelming conviction of sin. He had no sympathy with fleshly excitements in his meetings, and always checked them with an iron hand; and yet on the other hand he was careful not to grieve the Spirit of God by checking or quenching any genuine work or manifestation of the Holy Spirit.

He frequently describes his meetings in words such as these: "Suddenly an awful power fell on the congregation, and they instantly fell right and left, and cried aloud for mercy."

He describes one camp meeting thus: "The encampment was lighted up, the trumpet blown; I rose in the stand and required every soul to leave the tents and come into the congregation. There was a general rush to the stand. I requested the brethren, if ever they prayed in all their lives, to pray now.

"My voice was strong and clear, and my preaching was more of an exhortation and encouragement than anything else. My text was, 'The gates of hell shall not prevail.' In about thirty minutes the power of God fell on the congregation in such a manner as is seldom seen. The people fell in every direction, right and left, front and rear. It was supposed that not less than three hundred fell like dead men in mighty battle; and there was no need of calling mourners, for they were strewed all over the camp ground. Loud wailings went up to heaven from sinners for mercy, and a general shout from Christians, so that the noise was heard afar off."

In another place, Cartwright says, "At our Breckenridge Circuit camp meeting the following incident occurred. There were a Brother S. and family, who were the owners of a good many slaves. It was a fine family, and Sister S. was a very intelligent lady, and an exemplary Christian. She had long sought the blessing of perfect love, but she said the idea of holding her fellow beings in bondage stood out in her way.

"Many in this meeting sought and obtained the blessing of sanctification. Sister S. said her whole soul was in an agony for that blessing, and it seemed to her at times that she could almost lay hold and claim the promise, but she said her slaves would seem to step right in between her and her Saviour, and prevent its reception. But while on her knees, and struggling as in an agony for a clean heart, she then and there covenanted with the Lord, if He would give her the blessing, she would give up her slaves and set them free.

"She said this covenant had hardly been made one moment, when God filled her soul with such an overwhelming sense of Divine love that she did not really know whether she was in or out of the body. She rose from her knees and proclaimed to listening hundreds that she had obtained the blessing, and also the terms on which she obtained it.

"She went through the vast crowd with holy shouts of joy, and exhorting all to taste and see that the Lord was gracious. Such a power attended her words that hundreds fell to the ground, and scores of souls were happily born into the kingdom of God that afternoon and during the night. Shortly after this they set their slaves free, and the end of that family was peace."

While passing over the Cumberland Mountains one time, Cartwright was compelled to stop overnight at a house where there was to be a dance. Many of the people had never heard a sermon. Cartwright sat in one comer of the room watching the dance. He made up his mind to stay over next day (Sunday) and preach to the people.

"I had hardly settled this point in my mind," he says, "when a beautiful young lady walked very gracefully up to me, dropped a handsome curtsey, and pleasantly, with winning smiles, invited me out to take a dance with her. I can hardly describe my thoughts or feeling on that occasion. However, in a moment I resolved on a desperate experiment.

"I rose as gracefully as I could. I will not say with some emotion, but with many emotions. The young lady moved to my right side; I grasped her right hand with my right hand, while she leaned her left arm on mine. In this position we walked on the floor. The whole company seemed pleased at this act of politeness in the young lady shown to a stranger.

The man who was the fiddler began to put his fiddle in the best order. I then spoke to the fiddler to hold a moment, and added that for several years I had not undertaken any matter of importance without first asking the blessing of God upon it, and I desired now to ask the blessing of God upon this beautiful young lady and the whole company that had shown such an act of politeness to a total stranger.

"Here I grasped the young lady's hand tightly, and said, 'Let us all kneel down and pray,' and then instantly dropped on my knees, and commenced praying with all the power of soul and body that I could command. The young lady tried to get loose from me, but I held her tight.

"Presently she fell on her knees. Some of the company kneeled, some stood, some fled, some sat still, all looked curious. The fiddler ran off into the kitchen, saying, 'Lord have mercy, what's the matter? What does that mean?'

"While I prayed, some wept, and wept out aloud, and some cried for mercy. I rose from my knees and commenced an exhortation, after which I sang a hymn. The young lady who invited me on the floor lay prostrate, crying for mercy. I exhorted again, I sang and prayed nearly all night.

"About fifteen of that company professed religion, and our meeting lasted next day and next night, and as many more were powerfully converted. I organized a society, took thirty-two into the church, and sent them a preacher. My landlord was appointed leader, which post he held for many years."

This was the commencement of a great and glorious revival of religion in that region of the country, and several of the young men, converted at the Methodist preacher's dance, became useful ministers of Jesus Christ.

In one of Cartwright's camp meetings a little preacher, fresh from the theological seminary, began to teach the inquirers at the altar that just to resolve to be a Christian would make them Christians. Cartwright objected to this, and sent him out into the audience to exhort. The power of God fell on a big man, weighing about 230 pounds, and he began to cry for mercy.

The little preacher exhorted him to "be composed," but he prayed on until his soul was filled with joy. Then, in his ecstasy, he picked up the little preacher and ran about with him in his arms, dancing for joy. The little preacher was pale with fright, and was never seen again on the camp ground.

At one appointment where the people had never heard Cartwright preach, the weather was so bad that on the first day only one person came to hear him \-- a one-eyed man who was an elder in the Presbyterian Church. He preached his best for forty-five minutes. The elder spread the news that it was the greatest sermon he ever heard. Next time, Cartwright found the house crowded to overflowing and the whole hillside covered with horses and vehicles.

Many people in Cartwright's meetings were seized with the strange exercise known as the "jerks." All over the country this phenomenon accompanied the great Cumberland Revival. Some regarded it as a purely nervous affection caused by suggestion, while others regarded it as a peculiar manifestation or operation of the Holy Spirit. Individuals seemed seized by a strange power which caused them to jerk in a most mysterious manner, and the more they resisted the more they jerked.

Cartwright says, "To see those proud young gentlemen and ladies, dressed in their silks, jewelry and prunella from top to toe take the jerks, would often excite my risibilities. The first jerk or so, you would see their fine bonnets, caps, and combs fly; and so sudden would be the jerking of the head, that their long loose hair would crack almost as loud as a wagoner's whip.'

Cartwright regarded the "jerks" as a genuine manifestation of God's Spirit, although he believed that excitement often led people to counterfeit them. He says, "I always looked upon the jerks as a judgment sent from God, first to bring sinners to repentance, and secondly to show professors that God could work with or without means."

He tells of a drinking man who resisted the "jerks" until they came to him so severely that when he swore he would drink them off, and tried to raise a bottle of whiskey to his lips, a jerk more severe than before broke his neck. This happened at Cane Ridge, Kentucky, and brought great conviction of sin on the people.

Cartwright was a large, square-shouldered man, with some native ruggedness mingled with considerable humor. His strength was sometimes used to quiet the rowdies who tried to disturb his meetings. His creed was "to love everybody and fear nobody," and he sometimes thrashed the worst rowdies and then proceeded with the meeting. He saw nothing inconsistent in a Christian thrashing disturbers of religious services, so long as it was done in a spirit of love and not in a spirit of revenge!

Cartwright's sense of humor is shown in the following amusing incident. Like many other pioneer Methodist preachers, he had but little education. A learned minister of another denomination once addressed him publicly in Greek, in order to bring him into contempt for his ignorance. Cartwright listened as though he understood it all, and then replied in German, of which language he had learned a great deal from a neighbor's children while he was a boy.

The minister, not understanding Hebrew and supposing that Cartwright had answered him in Hebrew, said that Cartwright was the first educated Methodist preacher he had seen. It was not so much worldly learning as wisdom from above which enabled Cartwright to win so many souls for Christ.

The grand old veteran, after enduring many hardships and winning multitudes to the Saviour, fell asleep in Christ in 1872 at a good old age.

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CHARLES G. FINNEY

1792-1875

The writer is inclined to regard Charles Finney as the greatest evangelist and theologian since the days of the apostles. It is estimated that during the year 1857-58 over a hundred thousand people were led to Christ as the direct or indirect result of Finney's labors, while five hundred thousand people professed conversion to Christ in the great revival which began in his meetings.

Another remarkable fact is that it was found by actual research that over eighty-five in every hundred people professing conversion to Christ in Finney's meetings remained true to God, whereas seventy per cent of those professing conversion in the meetings of even so great an evangelist as Moody afterwards became backsliders.

Finney seems to have had the power of impressing the consciences of men with the necessity of holy living in such a manner as to procure the most lasting results. It is said that at Gouverneur, New York, not a dance or theatrical play could be held in the place for six years after Finney held meetings there. Charles G. Finney, an Autobiography [1875] is perhaps the most remarkable account of the manifestations of the Holy Spirit's power since apostolic days. It is crowded with accounts of spiritual outpourings which remind one of the day of Pentecost. Finney's Systematic Theology [1846] is probably the greatest work on theology outside the Scriptures.

The wonderful anointing of God's Spirit, combined with Finney's remarkable reasoning powers and his legal training, enabled him to present clearer views of Christian doctrine than has any other theologian since the days of early Christianity. His views with regard to the difference between physical and moral law, and physical and moral depravity, on the reasonableness of the moral law and the atonement, and on the nature of regeneration and sanctification are the clearest of any the writer has had the privilege of reading or hearing.

Finney's teachings probably did more than all other causes combined to bring the Old School Calvinists over to a belief in man's free agency and moral responsibility, or the views commonly known as New School Calvinism.

Charles Grandison Finney was a descendant of the New England Puritans, and was born in Connecticut in 1792. He removed with his parents to Western New York when two years of age. This part of New York was then a frontier wilderness, with few educational or religious privileges.

Finney had a good common school education, however, and at the age of twenty he went to New England to attend high school, but soon went to New Jersey to teach school and to continue his studies. He became quite proficient in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and in other college studies. In 1818 he commenced the study of law in the office of Squire Wright, at Adams, near his old home in Western New York.

At Adams, Finney had the first religious privileges worthy of the name. During the three years he taught school in New Jersey, about the only preaching in his neighborhood was in German, and the preaching he heard while at high school in New England was not of a kind calculated to arrest his attention. The aged preacher he heard there read old manuscript sermons in a monotonous, humdrum way that made no serious impression on the mind of Finney.

Finney's parents were not professing Christians, and in his childhood days in Western New York the only preaching he heard was during an occasional visit from some itinerant preacher. At Adams, while studying law, he attended the Presbyterian Church. The pastor, George W. Gale, was an able and highly educated man. His preaching, though of the Old School Calvinistic type, arrested the attention of Finney, although to his keen and logical mind it seemed like a mass of absurdities and contradictions.

It was while studying law and attending church at Adams that Finney became interested in Bible study. He found so many references to the Scriptures in his law books, he decided to buy himself a Bible, and he soon became deeply absorbed in studying it. He had many conversations with Mr. Gale, who frequently dropped into the office to talk with him, but they could scarcely agree on any point of doctrine. This fact probably led Finney to study the Scriptures much more diligently than if he had agreed with Mr. Gale in everything.

The fact that the church members were constantly praying prayers which did not seem to be answered, and to which they hardly seemed to expect an answer, was a great drawback to Finney. But he became more and more concerned about his own soul. He felt that if there was a life beyond, he was not prepared for it. Some of the church members wanted to pray for him, but he told them that he did not see that it would do any good, because they were continually asking without receiving.

Finney remained in a skeptical yet troubled frame of mind for two or three years. At last he came to a decision that the Bible was the true Word of God, and that it was the fault of the people if their prayers were not answered. He was then brought face to face with the question as to whether or not he would accept Christ.

"On a Sabbath evening, in the autumn of 1821," he says, "I made up my mind that I would settle the question of my soul's salvation at once, that if it were possible I would make my peace with God."

He was obliged to be in the office, however, and could not devote the entire time to seeking his soul's salvation, although on the following Monday and Tuesday he spent most of his time in prayer and reading the Scriptures. Pride was the great obstacle which hindered him from accepting Christ as his Saviour. He found that he was unwilling that anyone should know that he was seeking salvation.

Before praying, he stopped the keyhole of the door, and then only prayed in a whisper for fear that someone might hear him. If he was reading the Bible when anyone came in, he would throw his law books on top of it to create the impression that he had been reading them instead of the Bible.

During Monday and Tuesday his conviction of sin increased, but his heart seemed to grow harder. Tuesday night he had become very nervous, and imagined that he was about to die and sink into hell, but he quieted himself as best he could until morning. Next morning, on the way to the office, he had as clear a view of the atonement of Christ as he ever had afterwards.

The Holy Spirit seemed to present Christ hanging on the cross for him. The vision was so clear that almost unconsciously he stopped in the middle of the street for several minutes when it came to him. North of the village and over a hill lay a piece of woods, or forest, and he decided to go there and pour out his heart in prayer. So great was his pride, he kept out of sight so far as possible for fear that someone should see him on the way to the woods and should guess that he was going there to pray.

He penetrated far into the woods where some large trees had fallen across each other, leaving an open space between. Into this space he crept to pray. "But when I attempted to pray," he says, "I found that my heart would not pray." He was in great fear lest someone should come and find him praying. He was on the verge of despair, having promised God not to leave the spot until he settled the question of his soul's salvation, and yet it seemed impossible to him to settle the question.

"Just at this moment," he says, "I again thought I heard someone approach me, and I opened my eyes to see whether it were so. But right there the revelation of my pride of heart, as the great difficulty that stood in the way, was distinctly shown me. An overwhelming sense of my wickedness in being ashamed to have a human being see me on my knees before God, took such powerful possession of me that I cried at the top of my voice, and exclaimed that I would not leave that place if all the men on earth and all the devils in hell surrounded me."

He was completely humbled in soul by the thought of his pride. Then the most comforting verses of Scripture seemed to pour into his soul. He saw clearly that faith was not an intellectual state but a voluntary act, and he accepted the promise of God. Promises of salvation, from both Old and New Testaments, continued to pour into his soul, and he continued to pray.

"I prayed," he says, "until my mind became so full, that before I was aware of it I was on my feet and tripping up the ascent toward the road."

On reaching the village he found that it was noon, although he had gone into the woods immediately after an early breakfast. He had been so absorbed in prayer that he had no idea of the time. There was now a great calm in his soul, and the burden of sin had completely rolled away. Yet he was tempted to believe that he was not yet born of God.

He went to his dinner but found that he had no appetite. He then went to the office and took down his bass viol and began to play some hymns, but his soul was so overflowing that he could not sing without weeping.

On the evening of the same day in which Finney received the pardon of his sins, in the manner already described, he received a mighty overwhelming baptism of the Holy Spirit which started him immediately to preaching the gospel. We will allow him to describe this filling of the Spirit in his own words. Continuing the narrative of his conversion, he says,

"After dinner we (Squire Wright and himself) were engaged in removing the books and furniture to another office. We were very busy in this, and had but little conversation all the afternoon. My mind, however, remained in that profoundly tranquil state. There was a great sweetness and tenderness in my thoughts and feelings. Everything appeared to be going right, and nothing seemed to disturb me or ruffle me in the least.

"Just before evening, the thought took possession of my mind that as soon as I was left alone in the new office, I would try to pray again -- that I was not going to abandon the subject of religion and give it up, at any rate; and therefore, although I no longer had any concern about my soul, still, I would continue to pray.

"By evening we got the books and furniture adjusted; and I made up, in an open fireplace, a good fire, hoping to spend the evening alone. Just at dark, Squire W, seeing that everything was adjusted, bade me goodnight and went to his home. I had accompanied him to the door, and as I closed the door and turned around my heart seemed to be liquid within me. All my feelings seemed to rise and flow out, and the utterance of my heart was, 'I want to pour my whole soul out to God.' The rising of my soul was so great that I rushed into the room at the back of the front office to pray.

"There was no fire, and no light in the room; nevertheless it appeared to me as if it were perfectly light. As I went in and shut the door after me, it seemed as if I met the Lord Jesus Christ face to face. It did not occur to me then, nor did it for some time afterward, that it was wholly a mental state. On the contrary it seemed to me that I saw Him as I would see any other man.

"He said nothing, but looked at me in such a manner as to break me right down at His feet. I have always since regarded this as a most remarkable state of mind, for it seemed to me a reality that He stood before me, and I fell down at His feet and poured out my soul to Him. I wept aloud like a child, and made such confession as I could with my choked utterance. It seemed to me that I bathed His feet with my tears, and yet I had no distinct impression that I touched Him, that I recollect.

"I must have continued in this state for a good while, but my mind was too much absorbed with the interview to recollect anything that I said. But I know, as soon as my mind became calm enough to break off from the interview, I returned to the front office and found that the fire that I had made of large wood was nearly burned out.

"As I turned and was about to take a seat by the fire, I received a mighty baptism of the Holy Ghost. Without any expectation of it, without ever having the thought in my mind that there was any such thing for me, without any recollection that I had ever heard the thing mentioned by any person in the world, the Holy Ghost descended on me in a manner that seemed to go through me, body and soul.

"I could feel the impression, like a wave of electricity, going through and through me. Indeed it seemed to come in waves and waves of liquid love; for I could not express it in any other way. It seemed like the very breath of God. I can recollect distinctly that it seemed to fan me, like immense wings.

No words can express the wonderful love that was shed abroad in my heart. I wept aloud with joy and love, and I do not know but I should say I literally bellowed out the unutterable gushings of my heart. The waves came over me, and over me, one after the other, until I recollect I cried out, 'I shall die if these waves continue to pass over me.' I said. 'Lord, I cannot bear any more;' yet I had no fear of death."

Finney continued for some time under this remarkable manifestation of the Holy Spirit's power. Wave after wave of spiritual power rolled over him, and through him, thrilling every fiber of his being.

Late in the evening a member of his choir \-- for he was the leader of the choir -- came into the office. He was a member of the church, but was astonished to see Finney weeping under the power of the Spirit. After asking a few questions, he went after an elder of the church who was a very serious man, but who laughed with joy when he saw Finney weeping under the Spirit's power.

A young man who had associated much with Finney came into the office while Finney was trying to relate his experience to the elder and the member of the choir. The young man listened with astonishment to what Finney was saying, and suddenly fell upon the floor, crying out in the greatest agony of mind and saying, "Do pray for me!"

Although he had experienced so remarkable a baptism of the Holy Spirit, Finney was tempted the same night, when retiring to bed, to believe that he had been deluded in some way or other, and that he had not received the real baptism of the Spirit.

"I soon fell asleep," he says, "but almost as soon woke again on account of the great flow of the love of God that was in my heart. I was so filled with love that I could not sleep. Soon I fell asleep again and awoke in the same manner. When I awoke, this temptation would return upon me, and the love that seemed to be in my heart would abate; but as soon as I was asleep it was so warm within me that I would immediately awake. Thus I continued till, late at night, I obtained some sound repose.

"When I awoke in the morning the sun had risen, and was pouring a clear light into my room. Words cannot express the impression that the sunlight made upon me. Instantly the baptism that I had received the night before returned upon me in the same manner. I arose upon my knees in the bed and wept aloud with joy, and remained for some time too much overwhelmed with the baptism of the Spirit to do anything but pour out my soul to God.

"It seemed as if this morning's baptism was accompanied with a gentle reproof, and the Spirit seemed to say to me, 'Will you doubt?'

"'Will you doubt?' I cried, 'No! I will not doubt; I cannot doubt.' He then cleared the subject up so much to my mind that it was in fact impossible for me to doubt that the Spirit of God had taken possession of my soul."

On the morning just described, Finney went to his office and the waves of power continued to flood his soul. When Squire Wright came into the office, Finney said a few words to him about the salvation of his soul. He made no reply, but dropped his head and went away.

Finney says, "I thought no more of it then, but afterward found that the remark I made pierced him like a sword; and he did not recover from it till he was converted."

Almost every person Finney spoke to during the day was stricken with conviction of sin, and afterwards found peace with God. His words seemed to pierce their hearts like arrows. Although he had been fond of law, Finney now lost all taste for it and for every other secular business. His whole desire now was to preach the gospel and to win men to Christ. Nothing else seemed of any consequence.

He left the office and went out to talk to individuals concerning the salvation of their souls. Among those brought to Christ through his efforts that day were a Universalist and a distiller.

During the day there had been much conversation and excitement concerning Finney's conversion, and in the evening most of the people in the village gathered at the church, although no meeting had been appointed so far as Finney could learn. All the people seemed to be waiting for him to speak, and he arose and related what the Lord had done for his soul.

A certain Mr. C. who was present, was so convicted of sin that he arose and rushed out and went home without his hat. Many others were also deeply convicted of sin. Finney spoke and prayed with liberty, although he had never prayed in public before. The meeting was a wonderful one, and from that day meetings were held every night for some time. The conversions spread among all classes in the village and to many surrounding places. All of Finney's former companions, with one exception, were brought to Christ.

Finney soon visited his home at Henderson, New York, and his parents were brought to Christ. On his return to Adams, he continued his meetings, and spent much time in fasting and prayer. One time as he approached the meeting house, "a light, perfectly ineffable" shone in his soul, and almost prostrated him to the ground. It seemed greater than the light of the noonday sun, as did the light which prostrated Saul on the way to Damascus.

Many were brought to Christ, and some were healed in body, in answer to Finney's prayers. He now learned what it was to have real travail of soul for the unsaved. "When Zion travails she shall bring forth," became a precious promise to him. [Isaiah 66:8.]

Soon after receiving the anointing of the Holy Spirit, Finney had a lengthy conversation with his pastor, Mr. Gale, concerning the advisability of preparing for the ministry. Mr. Gale was a graduate of Princeton University, but was a firm believer in the Old School Calvinistic doctrines, which to Finney's mind seemed absurd and contradictory.

Mr. Gale and he could scarcely agree on any point of doctrine. Mr. Gale believed in the doctrine of a limited atonement, or that Christ died only for the elect, while Finney believed that He died for all. Mr. Gale held that men were so depraved by nature that they had no free agency, while Finney believed that all men had the power to accept or reject salvation.

Mr. Gale believed that Christ paid the exact penalty of the sinner, while Finney believed that He did not bear the exact penalty but that He bore sufficient penalty to enable God to forgive sin without mankind thinking that He was allowing sin to go unpunished. Notwithstanding their differences, in 1822 Finney placed himself under the care of the Presbytery as a candidate for the ministry.

Some of the ministers urged him to go to Princeton, but he declined. They then appointed Mr. Gale to superintend his studies. His studies, so far as Mr. Gale was concerned, were only a series of controversies, but he made good use of Mr. Gale's library. He felt that he would rather not preach than teach the doctrines held by Mr. Gale, but a good elder in the church who held similar views to Finney gave him much encouragement, and prayed with him frequently.

During the few months that Finney studied under Mr. Gale, a Universalist minister came to Adams and greatly disturbed the faith of many. Finney then replied to his arguments and completely overthrew them.

The Presbytery was finally called together at Adams, in 1824, and licensed Finney to preach. The two written sermons he prepared for them were, with two exceptions, the only written sermons he ever prepared. He tried one other time to preach from a written sermon, but believed that it hindered the Spirit of God from speaking through him.

Finney's first regular meetings were held at Evans Mills, Oneida County, New York. The people praised his sermons, but for two or three weeks no one decided for Christ. Then Finney urged all who were willing to accept Christ to rise to their feet, and all who were willing to reject him to remain on their seats. This was very unusual in those days, and made the people so angry that they were almost ready to mob Finney.

Next day he spent the day in fasting and prayer, and in the evening preached with such anointing and power that a great conviction of sin swept over the people. All night long they were sending for him to come and pray with them. Even hardened atheists were brought to Christ.

He continued to preach the gospel with increasing power and results, visiting many of the leading cities of America and Great Britain. Sometimes the power of God was so manifest in his meetings that almost the entire audience fell on their knees in prayer, or were prostrated on the floor. When in the pulpit, he sometimes felt almost lifted off his feet by the power of the Spirit of God.

Some people believe that the moral work of the Holy Spirit is not accompanied by any physical manifestations; but both in Bible times and in Finney's meetings remarkable physical manifestations seemed to accompany the moral work of the Holy Spirit, when the moral work was deep and powerful. At times, when Finney was speaking, the power of the Spirit seemed to descend like a cloud of glory upon him.

Often a hallowed calm, noticeable even to the unsaved, seemed to settle upon cities where he was holding meetings. Sinners were often brought under conviction of sin almost as soon as they entered these cities.

Finney seemed so anointed with the Holy Spirit that people were often brought under conviction of sin just by looking at him. When holding meetings at Utica, New York, he visited a large factory there and was looking at the machinery. At the sight of him one of the operatives, and then another, and then another broke down and wept under a sense of their sins. Finally, so many were sobbing and weeping that the machinery had to be stopped while Finney pointed them to Christ.

At a country place named Sodom, in the state of New York, Finney gave one address in which he described the condition of Sodom before God destroyed it. "I had not spoken in this strain more than a quarter of an hour," he says, "when an awful solemnity seemed to settle upon them. The congregation began to fall from their seats in every direction, and cried for mercy. If I had had a sword in each hand, I could not have cut them down as fast as they fell. Nearly the whole congregation were either on their knees or prostrate, I should think, in less than two minutes from the first shock that fell upon them. Everyone prayed who was able to speak at all." Similar scenes were witnessed in many other places.

In London, England, between 1,500 and 2,000 people were seeking salvation in one day in Finney's meetings. Enormous numbers inquired the way of salvation in his meetings in New York, Boston, Rochester, and many other important cities of America. The great revival of 1858-1859, one of the greatest revivals in the world's history, was the direct result of his meetings.

"That was the greatest work of God, and the greatest revival of religion the world has ever seen," says Dr. Lyman Beecher. It is estimated that six hundred thousand people were brought to Christ in this revival.

In 1833 Finney became a Congregationalist, and later a founder and first President of Oberlin College, Ohio. The great object in founding this college was to train students for the ministry. The remainder of Finney's time was divided between his work at Oberlin and holding meetings in different parts of the country.

Finney's writings have had an enormous circulation and have greatly influenced the religious life of the world. This is especially true of his Autobiography, his Lectures on Revivals, his Lectures to Professing Christians, and his Systematic Theology. These books have all had a worldwide circulation.

Finney continued to preach and to lecture to the students at Oberlin until two weeks before he was eighty-three years of age, when he was called up higher to enjoy the reward of those who have "turned many to righteousness."

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BILLY BRAY

1794-1868

God sometimes uses weak vessels in a most marvelous way. Billy Bray, the famous Cornish miner, was perhaps one of the quaintest vessels ever used by God to accomplish a great work of any kind.

Before his conversion to Christ, Billy was a drunken profligate miner, but after the Spirit of the Lord took possession of him he became such a burning, shining light for Christ that his name is known all over the world. From one end of Cornwall, England to the other, scarcely any name is better known than that of Billy Bray. [In 1911.]

Billy Bray was born in 1794 at Twelveheads, a village near Truro, in Cornwall, England. His grandfather had joined the Methodists under the preaching of John Wesley. Billy's father was also a Christian, but died when his children were all quite young. Billy lived with his grandfather until he was seventeen years of age, and then went to Devonshire where he lived a very wicked and sinful life. He was both drunken and lascivious.

One night he and a companion were going home drunk from Tavistock when they met a big horse and climbed on its back. It threw them and nearly killed them. He had many other narrow escapes from death. After his conversion to Christ, Billy often said, "The Lord was good to me when I was the servant of the devil, or I should have been down in hell now."

Once he was nearly killed in a mine. He ran out just about a minute before the mine caved in. He became so great a drunkard that his wife had to fetch him away from the beer shop night after night. "I never got drunk without feeling condemned for it," he said afterwards.

Billy was led to Christ, or rather, was convicted of sin, through reading John Bunyan's Visions of Heaven and Hell. When he was seeking the Lord he went a mile one Sunday morning to attend a class meeting of the Bible Christians. It was a wet day, and no one came. He said this had a discouraging effect on him.

After he had been seeking salvation for a long time, the devil strongly tempted him to believe that he never would find mercy. "But," he says, "I said to him, 'Thou art a liar, devil,' and as soon as I said so, I felt the weight gone from my mind, and I could praise the Lord, but not with that liberty that I could afterwards."

Billy wrote in his Journal: "When I came home I went upstairs, not staying for supper, for I wanted something better. And bless God I soon had it. I stayed up in my bedroom with my face to the west, and I said to the dear Lord, 'Thou hast said they that ask shall receive, and they that seek shall find, and they that knock it shall be opened unto them. Open unto me, my dear Lord. I have faith to believe it.'

"When I said so, the dear Lord made me so happy that I cannot express what I felt. I shouted for joy and praised God for what he had done for me a poor sinner, for I could say my happy heart felt experience that the Lord had pardoned all my sins. And it seem to me I was in a new world. I think it was in November 1823. What day of the month I do not know, but everything looked new to me: the people, the fields, the cattle, the trees. I was like a man in a new world."

After his conversion, Billy became a very happy Christian, and also a very earnest worker for the salvation of others. This was especially true after he was led into a deeper, richer and fuller Christian experience than he had received when converted to Christ. The following account of how he was led into this deeper experience is from The King's Son, A Memoir of Billy Bray, by FW Bourne:

"It is more important to speak of his deep piety, his abiding sense of the Divine favour, the secret of his great usefulness, the source of his constant and perpetual joy. The 'much fruit' which is so pleasing to God, cannot come except the roots have struck deep into the soil. Religion is not shallow in its nature. 'The water that I shall give you,' said the Saviour, 'shall be in you a well of water, springing up into everlasting life.' To be sanctified wholly, to use an apostolic phrase, Billy very early in his religious history felt to be both his duty and privilege.

"I remember being," he says, "at Hick's Mill Chapel one Sunday morning at class meeting when a stranger led the class. The leader asked one of our members whether he could say that the Lord had cleansed him from all sin, and he could not. 'That,' I said in my mind, 'is sanctification; I will have that blessing by the help of the Lord;' and I went on my knees at once, and cried to the Lord to sanctify me wholly, body, spirit, soul.

"And. the Lord said to me, 'Thou art clean through the word I have spoken unto thee.' And I said, 'Lord, I believe it.' When the leader came to me I told him, 'Four months ago I was a great sinner against God. Since that time I have been justified freely by His grace, and while I have been here this morning, the Lord has sanctified me wholly.

"When I had done telling what the Lord had done for me, the leader said, 'If you can believe it, it is so.' Then I said, 'I can believe it.' When I had told him so, what joy filled my heart I cannot find words to tell. After meeting was over I had to go over a railroad, and all around me seemed so full of glory that it dazzled my sight. I had a 'joy unspeakable and full of glory.'"

From one expression in this narrative some may dissent. It seems injudicious, to say the least, to tell a believer that he is sanctified if he believes he is, or tell a penitent that he is saved if he only believes he is. There is a more excellent way. But henceforth Billy lived not to himself, but to Him who died for him and rose again. He set the Lord always before him.

His path was like the shining light, his own favorite figure, that shineth more and more to the perfect day. Justified, sanctified, sealed, were successive steps in Christian experience; more clear to him perhaps than to others.

Billy's faith did not become feeble, but waxed stronger and stronger. His love to the Saviour grew in intensity till it became the absorbing passion of his soul, and his hope brightened into heavenly radiance and splendor. The freshness, the delicacy and fragrance of richest Christian experience seemed always to be his.

After the experience related above, Billy often felt the love of God overflowing his soul, so much so that he frequently shouted aloud or danced for very joy. His Christian experience was so happy, so bright, so trustful, and so sunshiny that many of the great people of the earth have been greatly interested in the story of his life. Among these were Queen Victoria, Spurgeon, and many leading ministers of Britain and America. His name is a household word throughout Cornwall where he labored so earnestly for the salvation of others. [Writing in 1911.]

Billy did not have the gloomy, dismal, sorrowful religion which so many professing Christians seem to have. His was the joyous, victorious Christian experience which attracts sinners to Christ as nectar attracts the bees. Sinners want a religion which will give them victory over sin, and wherever this kind of religion is preached, souls are won to Christ. But a gloomy, dismal testimony does not attract souls to Christ.

In the Methodist Church at St Blazey, Billy heard the people telling about their many trials and difficulties. He arose smiling, and clapping his hands said, "Well, friends I have been taking vinegar and honey, but, praise the Lord, I've had the vinegar with a spoon and the honey with a ladle." His testimony was always one of joy and victory.

Speaking concerning the Lord, he says, "He has made me glad and no one can make me sad. He makes me shout and no one can make me doubt. He it is that makes me dance and leap, and there is no one that can keep down my feet. I sometimes feel so much of the power of God that I believe if they were to cut off my feet I should heave up the stumps."

Billy often literally danced for very joy. One time he got so happy on his way home from market that he danced a new frock for his little girl out of the basket in which he was carrying it. It was found later and was returned to him. Some objected to his dancing and shouting, but Billy justified himself by referring to how Miriam and David danced before the Lord, and to the example of the cripple at Lystra who, after he was healed, leaped and walked and praised God. Billy also said that it was prophesied that 'the lame man shall leap as an hart.'

"I can't help praising the Lord," he once said. "As I go along the street I lift up one foot, and it seems to say 'Glory!' and I lift up the other, and it seems to say, 'Amen;' and so they keep on like that all the time I am walking." Even when his wife died, Billy jumped about the room with joy, exclaiming: "Bless the Lord! My dear Joey is gone up with the bright ones! My dear Joey is gone up with the shining angels! Glory! Glory! Glory!" He believed that afflictions were a special mark of God's favor, and that Christians ought to rejoice in them.

To those who objected to his shouting so much, Billy once said: "If they were to put me in a barrel, I would shout glory out through the bunghole! Praise the Lord!" Someone asked him one time, when he was praising the Lord, if he did not think that people sometimes got in such a habit of praising the Lord that they did not know what they were saying. He very coolly replied that he did not think that the Lord was much troubled with that class of people.

At a meeting at Hick's Mill, in 1866, a Mr. Oliver told how triumphantly a dying woman expired shouting victory. "Glory!" shouted Billy. "If a dying woman praised the Lord, I should think a living man might." When Billy heard the news of a certain preacher's death, he said, "So he has done with the doubters and has got up with the shouters."

"Some can only eat out of the silent dish," says Billy, "but I can not only eat out of that, but out of the shouting dish, and jumping dish and every other." He often spoke of his determination to enjoy the abundance of his Father's house. "My comrades used to tell me," he said, "that was no religion, dancing, shouting, and making so much 'to-do,' but I was born in the fire and could not live in the smoke."

When Billy met people he often urged them to say "Amen," and if they did not do so, he was not satisfied with their Christian experience. The first thing he inquired on meeting anyone was about their soul, and if he got an assuring answer he would shout for joy. He would shout for joy when he heard of souls being saved anywhere.

He would sometimes pick people up and carry them around for very joy. He picked up several church and chapel ministers, and carried them about in this way when he became very happy in the meetings. Such actions caused some people to criticize him. "They said I was a mad-man, but they meant I was a glad-man," he says.

Like all great soul winners, Billy spent much time in prayer. Before going anywhere he would ask the Lord to keep the devil from scratching him while away. He feared the devil, and so "cut his old claws" in this way. The devil was very real to him.

When tempted by Satan at one time, Billy said: "What an old fool thee art now. I have been battling with thee for twenty-eight years, and I have always beat thee, and I always shall."

One time, when his potato crop was very poor, Satan tempted him to believe that God did not love him, or He would have given him a better potato crop. Billy recognized this as a temptation from the devil, and he said, "Why, I've got your written character home to my house; and it do say, sir, that you be 'a liar from the beginning.'" He told the devil that when he served him he "had only rags and no 'taturs.'" He then recounted God's blessings until the devil "went off like as if he'd been shot."

Some of the rowdies, knowing that Billy had a very strong belief in Satan, and a very wholesome fear of him, thought they would frighten him by hiding near the road at night and making unearthly noises. Billy paid no attention to their noises but went on his way singing. At last one of them near the road said, "But I'm the devil up here in the hedge, Billy Bray."

"Bless the Lord! Bless the Lord!" exclaimed Billy, "I did not know thee wast so for away as that."

Not only did Billy pray much, but like all others who pray much he had great faith in the Lord, and his prayers were often answered in a most remarkable manner. One time one of his children was very ill, and his wife feared it would die and urged him to go for a doctor. Billy took all the money he had, which was eighteen pence, and started after a doctor. On the way he met a poor man who had lost a cow, and who was trying to get enough money to purchase another. His story touched Billy's heart so much that he gave him the eighteen pence.

Billy said afterwards, "I felt after I had given away the money that it was no use to go on to the doctor, for I could not have medicine without money. So I thought I would tell my Heavenly Father about it. I jumped over a hedge, and while telling the Lord all about it, I felt sure the child would live. I then went home, and as I entered the door, said to my wife, 'Joey, the child's better, isn't it.'

'Yes,' she said.

"The child will live, the Lord has told me so," was his answer, and the child soon got well.

Bourne tells this about Billy and his wife, Joey: "My wife said to me one day when lying on her sickbed, 'William, I do not see anything from heaven.' 'Neither do I, and what need has the Lord to show us sights when we can believe without it? If I saw the Saviour a babe in the manger, I should not believe it more than I do now. If I saw Him raise Lazarus out of the grave, I should not believe it more than I do now. If I saw the Lord Jesus raise the ruler's daughter or the widow's son to life, I should not believe it more than I do now. And if I saw the dear Lord nailed to the cross, and heard Him cry, 'It is finished,' saw Him give up the ghost, and rise from the tomb the third day, I should not believe these things more than I do now."

When he said this, his wife exclaimed, "And so do I believe it," and they both rejoiced together.

One day when Billy had no money, not having received his wages for some time, he took the matter to the Lord in prayer. He had bacon and potatoes but no bread in the house. He went to the captain of the mine and borrowed ten shillings. On the way home he found two families more destitute than himself. He gave them each five shillings and went home without any money. His wife felt blue, but Billy affirmed that the Lord would not remain in their debt very long. Soon a sovereign (£1) was given to them by a lady.

Billy said that he was working for a big firm \-- the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost -- and he had great confidence in them. Once he said: "If Billy gets work, he praises the Lord; when he gets none, he sings all the same. Do'e think that he'll starve Billy? No, no, there's sure to be a bit of flour in the bottom of the barrel for Billy. I can trust in Jesus, and while I trust Him, He'd as soon starve Michael the Archangel as He'd starve Billy."

Billy was a hard worker. He often worked twenty hours out of the twenty-four, building chapels with his own hands after working his regular shift in the mines. One time he went to the town of St. Ives to get money for one of his chapels. But the run of fish had been so poor that the fishermen did not have any money to give him. Billy and others prayed earnestly for fish, and that night the fishermen caught thousands upon thousands from shoals of pilchards.

Billy worked and prayed earnestly for the salvation of souls, and won many to Christ. About a year after his conversion his name was placed on the Local Preachers' roll of the Bible Christians, a group that had broken from the official Methodist Church in 1815, but reunited in 1907.

Billy was more of an exhorter than a preacher, although he often conducted and spoke in meetings. His principal work in soul winning was probably done outside the pulpit, for he was always busy trying to win souls for Christ.

He would pray for his fellow miners before they went to work in the mornings. "Lord," he would say, "if any of us must be killed or die today, let it be me. Let not one of these men die, for they are not happy and I am, and if I die today I shall go to heaven."

He often visited the sick and dying. When ministering to the dying he often expressed a wish that he might "see them in heaven, dressed in robes of glorious brightness, for," he would add in his quietest vein of humor, "if I saw them there, I must be there myself too. They say that every man has got a little of self, and so have I too."

One time when Billy was walking over a certain hill the Lord seemed to say to him, "I will give thee all that dwell on this mountain." He prayed for and visited the people in the three houses on the hill until they were all brought to the Lord. Then he complained to the Lord that there were only three houses on the hill, and the Lord showed him there would be more.

Long after this an Anglican Church and parsonage were built on the hill. Billy heard of it and visited the church. He was disgusted to find the vicar [William Haslam] a "Puseyite," an extreme High Churchman. This made him unhappy until he reflected that he had visited the place before the Lord told him to do so.

After some time the clergyman's gardener, who was a ritualist like the vicar, was converted to Christ. William Haslam, the vicar, was displeased, but was afterwards deeply convicted of sin and was himself converted to Christ -- while preaching his own sermon!

One night, about nine o'clock, as Billy was going to bed, the Lord showed him that he could now visit the hill. He hitched up the donkey cart and started, reaching the hill the next morning. The vicar heard someone coming through the hallway praising the Lord, and guessed it was Billy Bray. He and his wife and servants and Billy Bray had a great time of rejoicing together.

Billy then visited the other houses on the hill and found the people all converted, and he was almost beside himself with joy.

Billy was a poor singer, but was often singing. He affirmed that the Lord liked to hear him sing. "Oh, yes, bless the Lord! I can sing," he would say. "My heavenly Father likes to hear me sing as well as those who can sing better than I can. My Father likes to hear the crow as well as the nightingale!"

After a meeting house was built in one place, Billy was called on with others to speak at the dedication. "I told the people," he says, "that the dear Lord had given them a pretty chapel to worship in; and how He wanted good furniture, for bad furniture looks disgraceful in a good house. I told them that the good furniture for the house of the Lord was sanctified souls. We must be pardoned, sanctified, and sealed, and then we shall not only be fit for the Lord's house on earth, but we shall be good furniture in heaven."

Billy had one illustration which always appealed forcibly to the miners. He represented himself as working all week at a poor mine where the pay was very poor, and then on payday going to a good mine where the wages were good, to get his pay. He asked if that would not be a very foolish thing to do, and then pointed out how that many people are working for Satan and expecting God to save them at last.

When Billy lay dying, and the doctor told him that he was going to die, he said, "Glory! Glory be to God! I shall soon be in heaven." He then added, in his own peculiar way, "When I get up there, shall I give them your compliments, doctor, and tell them you will be coming too?"

This made a deep impression on the doctor. Billy's dying word was "Glory!" Some little time before dying, he said, "What, Me fear death! Me lost! Why, my Saviour conquered death. If I was to go down to hell I would shout glory! glory! to my blessed Jesus until I made the bottomless pit ring again, and the miserable old Satan would say, 'Billy, Billy, this is no place for thee: get thee back!' Then up to heaven I should go, shouting Glory! Glory! Praise the Lord!"

Billy fell asleep in Christ in 1868. The following verse is from a poetical tribute to Billy:

His fare was sometimes scanty,

And earnest was the fight;

But his dear Lord provided,

And with him all was right.

His dress was always homely \--

His dwelling somewhat poor,

But the presence of his Saviour

Made up for that and more.

[I Can't Help Praising the Lord tells much more on the life of Billy Bray, and Haslam's Journey tells of William Haslam, the Vicar of Baldhu mentioned here, who was converted while preaching his own sermon. Both titles are available from White Tree Publishing]

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ELDER JACOB KNAPP

1799-1874

Elder Jacob Knapp was so endued with power from on high that his name at one time was almost a synonym for spiritual power. So many people professed conversion in his meetings that he finally lost count of them, and he gave up the effort after he passed the hundred thousand mark.

Elder Knapp was a pioneer in evangelistic work. He was probably the first man, at least in the Northern part of the United States, to devote his entire time to evangelistic work. There were few evangelists in those days. This important New Testament office was well nigh neglected. This was no doubt partly owing to the prevalence of Old School Calvinism.

Calvinists of the Old School believed that God would save His own elect in His own way and in His own time, without the urgent appeals of evangelists. They were afraid that evangelists would persuade those who were not God's elect to make a profession of religion. Many would not even pray for the salvation of their own children for fear that they might not be among God's elect.

This belief had been one of the greatest, if not the greatest of all hindrances to evangelistic work. The labors of Wesley, and of the great evangelists, Finney and Moody, did much to overthrow this fatalistic belief. But Elder Knapp met with much opposition from his well-meaning but deluded hyper-Calvinistic brethren, and yet his labors were so richly blessed by God that great multitudes were converted to Christ under his ministry.

Jacob Knapp was born in the State of New York, December 7th l799. His parents were in moderate circumstances. They were Episcopalians, and Knapp was brought up to attend church and was taught the Creed and Catechism from his infancy.

"My mind," he says, "was early, and at times, deeply impressed with divine truth. From the first of my remembrance I had seasons of secret prayer, and of deep anxiety about the future welfare of my soul. But I was not led to hope in Christ until the summer of my seventeenth year, when it pleased God to take from me my dear mother."

The death of his mother made a deep impression upon him and drove him to prayer, studying his Bible, and to the house of God with more earnestness than he had ever felt before. He was under so deep conviction of sin that he could find no rest of soul. "I often repaired to the barn or grove in the silent hours of the night, and poured out my soul in prayer to God," he says. He was so distressed about his soul that his health began to decline.

"At length," he says, "one Lord's day morning I took my Bible and hymnbook and repaired to the woods, with a determination never to return without relief to my soul. I went some distance from human sight or hearing, laid myself down on a grassy knoll, and prayed and read, and read and prayed."

He prayed earnestly and suffered much agony of soul. "But," he says, "to the joy and rapture of my soul, after a short space of time passed in this condition, my load of guilt was gone. I rose up quickly, turned my eyes toward heaven, and thought I saw Jesus descending with His arms extended for my reception.

"My soul leaped within me, and I broke forth into singing praises to the blessed Saviour. The sweet melodies of the birds seemed to make harmony with the songs, and as I looked around, the sun shone with a lustre not its own, the majestic trees, swaying to the gentle breeze, appeared to bow in sweet submission to the will of heaven. All nature smiled, and everything, animate and inanimate, praised God with a voice, though unheard before, too loud and too plain to be misunderstood."

Even after so bright a conversion, Knapp relapsed into a backslidden state after ten months or a year, and became so wicked as to make sport of religion. But conviction of sin often pierced his heart like a dagger and he often had great compunctions of conscience. Finally, he promised to attend a dance.

There was a prayer meeting in the Baptist Church on the same night. He became so overwhelmed with the thought of his sinfulness that he went to the prayer meeting instead of to the dance, and there, within hearing of the dancing music, he and several companions wept and prayed their way back to God.

This was the means of bringing about a revival in the place, and sixty of the young people were led to Christ. Knapp was then baptized and united with the Baptist Church, and soon became an earnest worker for the salvation of souls. He organized prayer meetings in the neighborhood of his home, and a number of souls were won to Christ.

When he was about twenty, his father wanted to give him a farm and means to start life for himself, but Jacob had great desires and ambitions for an education. He felt that God was calling him to the work of the ministry. By doing chores and working hard during vacation, and after many severe trials from poverty and ignorance, he at last managed to obtain a fair education.

**He had prayed much in secret that God would discipline his mind and provide for his daily needs. During **this time he had led the meetings in a Baptist Church which had no pastor. In about two months nearly all the young people were led to God.

For some time Knapp taught in a school, and held many meetings in school houses and other places. Although he did not pretend to preach regular sermons, many souls were won to Christ through his labors. Yet he felt so keenly his inability to preach that he decided to abandon the idea. But "trouble rolled in like a flood" until he felt driven to request his church to give him a license to preach.

He preached his trial sermon and was licensed to preach in 1822, at the age of twenty-three. He then spent some time in theological training at Hamilton University, which had just been founded. While there, he preached in a number of places, but through trying to preach in a manner to please men and not to give offence he lost much of his joy and power.

In 1825 he received his diploma and became pastor of a church at Springfield, New York, where he remained as pastor for five years. About sixty people professed conversion to Christ in his church during this time. He then became pastor of a church at Watertown, New York. Here he remained for three years, and although the church was small and poor, he baptized about two hundred converts during that time.

In 1833 Knapp felt a definite call to the evangelistic work. Many of his Calvinistic brethren were bitterly opposed to his engaging in work of this kind, as they did not believe in evangelism. He began to hold protracted meetings, however, and many souls were brought to a decision for Christ in these meetings.

"At length I was advised by Dr. Nathaniel Kendrick," he says, "to take an appointment from the Board of the Baptist Convention of the State of New York, as an evangelist in Jefferson and Oswego Counties. I thought favorably of this suggestion, imagining that such an appointment would increase my influence and tend to silence my opposers.

"I therefore went to the meeting of the Convention, about a hundred and forty miles distant. I had not mingled with the brethren long before I found that some, whom I had counted as friends, were disposed to treat me with coolness. Though endorsed by such a man as Dr. Kendrick, whose weight of personal influence was everywhere recognized, yet my application was instantly met by a decided opposition. One must tell what he had heard, another explain his views of the gospel method, until, after a lengthy debate in which some cried one thing and some another, it was resolved to refer the question of my appointment to a committee. This committee made an adverse report, and my application was rejected.

"Overwhelmed with grief and mortification, I started to fill an engagement to preach in Loraine, a distance of about one hundred and fifty miles. The Lord brought me safely on my way some fifty miles, when my horse sickened and died. I got a brother to take me to Oswego, and then I went on board a boat for Sackets Harbor.

"Shortly after we had started, there arose a mighty tempest, and for a while there appeared but little chance for any of our lives. But my own spirits were so depressed that I seemed to have but little choice between life and death. I thought myself in perils by sea, in perils by land, and in perils by false brethren. But God preserved me for greater joys and greater sorrows than any I had hitherto experienced.

"For a short time the effect of my rejection by the Board of the Convention was very disheartening. I had hoped to secure, by an appointment, a greater influence among the churches, a more positive countenance of some of the ministers who had hitherto been sitting on the fence, hesitating as to which side to get down on, and also to silence the active opposition of those who had avowed their hostility to my course.

"It was not long before I found that my difficulties in these directions were on the increase. The noncommittal became outspoken against me, and those heretofore opposed became violent and abusive. My soul was in deep trouble and I knew not which way to turn.

"In my distress I cast my burdens on the Lord. I sought to know the will of God. I cried unto the Lord; and, blessed be His name, very soon He made known His ways and lifted upon me the light of His countenance.

"After spending one whole day in fasting and prayer, and continuing my fast until midnight, the place where I was staying was filled with the manifested glory of God. His presence appeared to me, not exactly in visible form, but as really to my recognition as though He had come in person, and a voice seemed to say to me, 'Hast thou ever lacked a field in which to labor?'

"I answered, 'Not a day.'

"'Have I not sustained thee, and blessed thy labors?'

"I answered, 'Yea, Lord.'

"'Then learn that henceforth thou art not dependent on thy brethren, but on Me. Have no concern but to go on in thy work. My grace shall be sufficient for thee.'

"From that night I felt willing to sacrifice the good opinion of my brethren, as I had previously sacrificed the favor of the world, and swing off from all dependencies but God. Up to this time I had concerned myself too much about the opinions of other and older brethren, distrusting my youth and inexperience. But the Lord taught me that He was my only and infallible guide.

"I joyously acquiesced in His will, and from that day to this have rested in His divine manifestation. Ah, how reluctant we are to cleave to the Lord! How prone to cling to creature dependences. Since I have endeavored to seek divine direction as to all my fields of labor, I have learned that it is possible for me, generally, to gain as dear impressions of the will of God concerning my duty as though it was announced in audible tones.

"In the manifestation of God's presence to me, He cast no reflections on those of my ministerial brethren who differed from me, but in the most tender manner bade me to leave them to pursue their own way, and cleave only to Him. Thus was I cured of all yearning for denominational promotion, led to make an unreserved consecration of all my powers to one end -- the conversion of men to Christ -- and made willing to labor on through evil and good report, leaving my vindication until the Day of Judgment.

"A year did not elapse before I saw plainly that God's plan was much better than mine. I found it far more delightful and profitable to my soul to be directed by God's providence, where, and by His Spirit, how to labor, than to be prescribed in my field, and dictated to as to how to conduct my ministry by others.

"The Lord carried me from place to place, even where I had the least expectation of going. In my perplexities I was driven to God in prayer for Him to direct my steps, and mark out every inch of my path. And I have been led to understand since, that had not the furnace been heated seven times hotter than it was wont to be, the dross would never have been separated from the gold.

"My kind and heavenly Father did not give me one blow that was not needful, nor one thorn that was not required to keep me from being exalted above measure, through the abundance of my success in winning souls, and the many flattering expressions of those who sympathized with my work."

After making the full consecration and obtaining the deeper experience described above, Knapp began to win multitudes to Christ. Thousands upon thousands professed conversion in his meetings, and many sought and obtained the filling of the Holy Spirit. So great was his power in preaching the gospel, it has been said that wherever he went, "Infidelity turned pale, and Universalism gave up the ghost.

"These were golden days, sunny spots, heavenly seasons. The memory of them is precious," says Knapp. So exhaustive were his labors, many wondered how he could perform them. But after his hard day's labor in meetings he often felt as nimble as a deer.

"It is really surprising," he says, "what a small amount of sleep and food we can get along with, and how much we can endure when we are filled with the Spirit. Machinery well oiled can be run day and night for years together with but little friction."

In many places where Knapp labored, business was suspended and meetings were held three times a day, and frequently all night. Farmers took their wagons through their neighborhoods and brought the people to the meetings. The crowds were often so great that Christians stayed away from the meetings to make room for the unsaved, and spent the time of service in prayer at their homes.

At one place where Knapp held meetings there was so much praying that a skeptical physician in the place became so uneasy that he sold his property at a great sacrifice, and went to Canada. He said he could not go to his barn, but someone was praying in the haymow. He could not go to the woods, but someone was praying behind every bush heap; that the women pestered the life out of him, tormenting him with their religion, so that he would rather live in purgatory.

At Hannibal Center, New York, the church where Knapp held meetings was very dead, the weather dismal, and everything seemed unfavorable. But the power of God finally fell, and scores were converted. At Auburn, New York, when Knapp was holding meetings there, some of the rowdies tried to create a disturbance one day.

"On the same night some of them came into the meeting, were smitten down by the power of God's truth, and had to be carried to their homes." At Utica, New York, more than eight hundred people professed conversion during the revival. About ten thousand professed conversion to Christ as a result of Knapp's first series of meetings in Baltimore, Maryland.

In 1841, when Knapp held services in Boston, "The Spirit of God," he says, "was poured out on the whole city, and all the people seemed to be affected by His presence." Reverend J. D. Fulton says, "The attendance upon theatres waned, that upon churches increased."

At Lowell, Massachusetts, in 1841, "The Lord came down in power, and the work rolled on mightily." One of the large cotton mills had to be stopped on account of the operatives being under too great conviction of sin to continue their work. About fifteen hundred people professed conversion to Christ as a result of Knapp's labors in that place. When he left, "the air resounded with the songs of the rejoicing and weeping multitudes."

The whole city of Salem, Massachusetts, was shaken by the power of God in 1843, when Knapp held revival services there. His friends chartered a train and accompanied him to Boston.

In 1860, Knapp again held meetings in Boston, and much prayer was made for an outpouring of the Spirit, and "the very atmosphere seemed impregnated with the divine influence. No one could come into the room where we were without recognizing the presence of God," says Knapp. "At times it seemed as if I was overwhelmed with the gracious fullness of God, and that my poor and limited faculties could bear no more."

We have given only a few of the most striking incidents connected with the meetings of Elder Knapp. Almost everywhere he went, the people were so aroused and concerned about the salvation of their souls that some complained of the excitement in the meetings. But Knapp did not see why they should not become excited about religious matters as about matters of far less importance, such as business, games, politics, and so on.

"For my own part," he says, "I never could see why men might properly become excited on other subjects, but must invariably approach the momentous subject of salvation with all the proprieties of an imperturbable deliberation. It seemed to me that the record of the Acts of the Apostles was a history of excitements, under which the world was verily turned upside down."

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GEORGE MULLER

1805-1898

Among the greatest monuments of what can he accomplished through simple faith in God are the great orphanages covering thirteen acres of ground on Ashley Down in Bristol, England. When God put it into the heart of George Muller to build these orphanages, he had only two shillings in his pocket. Without making his wants known to any man, but to God alone, over a million, four hundred thousand pounds were sent to him for the building and maintaining of these orphan homes.

[The five Houses held 2,050 children at any one time and some 17,000 passed through their doors before the buildings were sold to Bristol City Council in 1958. The buildings are still in existence, and have been converted into residential apartments.]

When the writer first visited them, near the time of Mr. Muller's death, there were five immense buildings of stone. In all the years since the first orphans arrived, the Lord had sent food in due time, so that they had never missed a meal for want of food.

Although George Muller became famous as one of the greatest men of prayer known to history, he was not always a saint. He wandered very deep into sin before he was brought to Christ. He was born in Prussia, in 1805.

His father was a revenue collector for the government, and was a worldly-minded man. He supplied George and his brother with plenty of money when they were boys, and they spent it foolishly. George deceived his father about how much money he spent, and also as to how he spent it. He also stole the government money during his father's absence.

At the age of ten, George was sent to the cathedral classical school at Halberstadt. His father wanted to make a Lutheran clergyman of him, not that he might serve God, but that he might have an easy and comfortable living from the State Church.

"My time," he says, "was now spent in studying, reading novels, and indulging, though so young, in sinful practices. Thus it continued until I was fourteen years old, when my mother was suddenly removed.

"The night she was dying, I, not knowing of her illness, was playing cards until two in the morning, and on the next day, being the Lord's Day, I went with some of my companions in sin to a tavern, and then, being filled with strong beer, we went about the streets half intoxicated.

"I grew worse and worse," he says. "Three or four days before I was confirmed (and thus admitted to partake of the Lord's Supper), I was guilty of gross immorality; and the very day before my confirmation, when I was in the vestry with the clergyman to confess my sins, according to the usual practice, after a formal manner, I defrauded him, for I handed over to him only a twelfth part of the fee which my father had given me for him."

A few solemn thoughts and desires to lead a better life came to him, but he continued to plunge deeper and deeper into sin. Lying, stealing, gambling, licentiousness, extravagance, and almost every form of sin was indulged in by him. No one would have imagined that the sinful youth would ever become eminent for his faith in God and for his power in prayer.

He robbed his father of certain rents which his father had entrusted him to collect, falsifying the accounts of what he had received and pocketing the balance. His money was spent on sinful pleasures, and once he was reduced to such poverty that in order to satisfy his hunger he stole a piece of coarse bread, the allowance of a soldier who was quartered in the house where he was.

In 1821 he set off on an excursion to Magdeburg, where he spent six days in "much sin." He then went to Brunswick, and put up at an expensive hotel until his money was exhausted. He then put up at a fine hotel in a neighboring village, intending to defraud the hotel keeper. But his best clothes were taken in lieu of what he owed. He then walked six miles to another inn, where he was arrested for trying to defraud the landlord. He was imprisoned for this crime when sixteen years of age.

After his imprisonment, young Muller returned to his home and received a severe thrashing from his angry father. He remained as sinful in heart as ever, but in order to regain his father's confidence he began to lead an exemplary life outwardly, until he had the confidence of all around him.

His father decided to send him to the classical school at Halle, where the discipline was strict, but George had no intention of going there. He went to Nordhausen instead, and by using many lies and entreaties persuaded his father to allow him to remain there for two years and six months, till Easter, 1825.

In Nordhausen he studied diligently, was held up as an example to the other students, and became proficient in Latin, French, History, and his own language (German). "But whilst I was outwardly gaining the esteem of my fellow-creatures," he says, "I did not care in the least about God, but lived secretly in much sin, in consequence of which I was taken ill, and for thirteen weeks confined to my room. All this time I had no real sorrow of heart, yet being under certain natural impressions of religion, I read through Klopstock's works, without weariness. I cared nothing about the Word of God."

"Now and then I felt I ought to become a different person," he says, "and I tried to amend my conduct, particularly when I went to the Lord's Supper, as I used to do twice every year with the other young men. The day previous to attending that ordinance I used to refrain from certain things, and on the day itself I was serious, and also swore once or twice to God with the emblem of the broken body in my mouth, to become better, thinking that for the oath's sake I should be induced to reform. But after one or two days were over, all was forgotten, and I was as bad as before.

He entered the University of Halle as a divinity student, with good testimonials. This qualified him to preach in the Lutheran state church. While at the University he spent all his money in profligate living. "When my money was spent," he says, "I pawned my watch and part of my linen and clothes, or borrowed in other ways. Yet in the midst of all this I had a desire to renounce this wretched life, for I had no enjoyment in it, and had sense enough left to see that the end one day or other would be miserable. for I should never get a living. But I had no sorrow of heart on account of offending God."

At the University he formed the acquaintance of a miserable backslider named Beta, who was trying by means of worldly pleasures to drown out his conviction of sin. They plunged into sin together, and in June, 1825, George was again taken sick. After his recovery they forged letters purporting to be from his parents. With these they obtained passports and set out to see Switzerland.

Muller stole from the friends who accompanied him, and the journey did not cost him so much as it did them. They returned home to finish up the vacation and then went back to the University, Muller having lied to his father about the trip to Switzerland.

At the University of Halle there were about nine hundred divinity students. All of these were allowed to preach, but Muller estimates that not nine of them feared the Lord. "One Saturday afternoon, about the middle of November, 1825," he says, "I had taken a walk with my friend Beta. On our return he said to me that he was in the habit of going on Saturday evenings to the house of a Christian where there was a meeting. On further inquiry he told me that they read the Bible, sang, prayed, and read a printed sermon.

"No sooner had I heard this, but it was to me as if I had found something after which I had been seeking all my life long. I immediately wished to go with my friend, who was not at once willing to take me; for knowing me as a worldly young man he thought I should not like this meeting. At last, however, he said he would call for me."

Describing the meeting, Muller said, "We went together in the evening. As I did not know the manners of the brethren, and the joy they have in seeing poor sinners, even in any measure caring about the things of God, I made an apology for coming. The kind answer of this dear brother I shall never forget. He said: 'Come as often as you please. House and heart are open to you.'"

After a hymn was sung they fell upon their knees, and a brother, named Kayser, who afterwards became a missionary to Africa, asked God's blessing on the meeting. "This kneeling down made a deep impression upon me," says Muller, "for I had never either seen anyone on his knees, nor had I ever myself prayed on my knees. He then read a chapter and a printed sermon; for regular meetings for expounding the Scriptures were not allowed in Prussia, except an ordained clergyman was present. At the close we sang another hymn, and then the master of the house prayed."

The meeting made a deep impression upon Muller. "I was happy," he says, "though if I had been asked why I was happy, I could not clearly have explained it.

"When we walked home, I said to Beta, 'All we have seen on our journey to Switzerland, and all our former pleasures, are as nothing in comparison with this evening.'

"Whether I fell on my knees when I returned home I do not remember; but this I know, that I lay peaceful and happy in my bed. This shows that the Lord may begin his work in different ways. For I have not the least doubt that on that evening He began a work of grace in me, though I obtained joy without any deep sorrow of heart, and with scarcely any knowledge.

"That evening was the turning point in my life. The next day, and Monday, and once or twice besides, I went again to the house of this brother, where I read the Scriptures with him and another brother, for it was too long for me to wait until Saturday came again.

"Now my life became very different, though not so different that my sins were all given up at once. My wicked companions were given up; the going to taverns was discontinued; the habitual practice of telling falsehoods was no longer indulged in, but still a few times more I spoke an untruth.

"I now no longer lived habitually in sin, though I was still often overcome and sometimes even by open sins, though far less frequently than before, and not without sorrow of heart. I read the Scriptures, prayed often, loved the brethren, went to church from right motives, and stood on the side of Christ, though laughed at by my fellow students."

For a few weeks after his conversion Muller made rapid advancement in the Christian life, and he was greatly desirous of becoming a missionary. But he fell in love with a Roman Catholic girl, and for some time the Lord was well nigh forgotten. Then Muller saw a young missionary giving up all the luxuries of a beautiful home for Christ. This opened his eyes to his own selfishness and enabled him to give up the girl who had taken the place of Christ in his heart.

"It was at this time," he says, "that I began to enjoy the peace of God which passeth all understanding. In this my joy I wrote to my father and brother, entreating them to seek the Lord, and telling them how happy I was; thinking that if the way to happiness were set before them, they would gladly embrace it. To my great surprise an angry answer was returned."

George could not enter any German missionary training institution without the consent of his father, and this he could not obtain. His father was deeply grieved that after educating him so that he could obtain a comfortable living as a clergyman, he should turn missionary. George felt that he could no longer accept any money from his father.

The Lord graciously sent him means with which to complete his education. He taught German to some American college professors at the University, and they handsomely remunerated him for his services. He was now the means of winning a number of souls to Christ. He gave away thousands of religious tracts and papers, and spoke to many people concerning the salvation of their souls.

Although, before his conversion, Muller had written to his father and told him about sermons he had preached, he never really preached a sermon until some time after his conversion. He thought to please his father by making him believe that he was preaching. His first sermon was a printed one which he had memorized for the occasion. He had but little liberty in preaching it.

The second time, he preached extemporaneously and had some degree of liberty. "I now preached frequently," he says, "both in the churches of the villages and towns, but never had any enjoyment in doing so, except when speaking in a simple way; though the repetition of sermons which had been committed to memory brought more praise from my fellow creatures. But from neither way of preaching did I see any fruit.

"It may be that the last day will show the benefit even of those feeble endeavors. One reason why the Lord did not permit me to see fruit, seems to me, that I should have been most probably lifted up by success. It may be also because I prayed exceedingly little respecting the ministry of the Word, and because I walked so little with God, and was so rarely a vessel unto honor, sanctified and meet for the Master's use."

The true believers at the University increased from six to about twenty in number before Muller left. They often met in Muller's room to pray, sing and read the Bible. He sometimes walked ten or fifteen miles to hear a really pious minister preach.

In 1827 Muller volunteered to go as a missionary pastor to the Germans at Bucharest, but the war between the Turks and Russians prevented this. In 1828, at the suggestion of their agent, he offered himself to the London Missionary Society as a missionary to the Jews. He was well versed in the Hebrew language and had a great love for it. The Society desired him to come to London that they might see him personally.

Through the providence of God he finally secured exemption for life from serving in the Prussian army, and he went to England in 1829, at twenty-four years of age. He was not able to speak the English language for some time after he landed in England, and then only in a very broken manner at first

Soon after coming to England, Muller received a deeper Christian experience which entirely revolutionized his life. "I came weak in body to England." he says, "and in consequence of much study, as I suppose, I was taken ill on May 15, and was soon, at least in my own estimation, apparently beyond recovery.

"The weaker I got in body, the happier I was in spirit. Never in my whole life had I seen myself so vile, so guilty, so altogether what I ought not to have been, as at that time. It was as if every sin of which I had been guilty was brought to my remembrance; but at the same time I could realize that all my sins were completely forgiven -- that I was washed and made clean, completely clean, in the blood of Jesus. The result of this was great peace. I longed exceedingly to depart and to be with Christ.

"After I had been ill about a fortnight, my medical attendant unexpectedly pronounced me better. This, instead of giving me joy, bowed me down, so great was my desire to be with the Lord; though almost immediately afterwards grace was given me to submit myself to the will of God."

That Muller always regarded the above experience as one which deepened his whole spiritual life, is clearly shown by a letter of his which appeared in The British Christian, of August 14, 1902. In this letter Muller says, "I became a believer in the Lord Jesus in the beginning of November, 1825, now sixty-nine years and eight months ago. For the first four years afterwards it was for a good part in great weakness; but in July, 1829, now sixty-six years since, it came with me to an entire and full surrender of heart.'

"I gave myself fully to the Lord. Honors, pleasures, money, my physical powers, my mental powers, all were laid down at the feet of Jesus, and I became a great lover of the Word of God. I found my all in God, and thus in all my trials of a temporal and spiritual character, it has remained for sixty-six years. My faith is not merely exercised regarding temporal things, but regarding everything, because I cleave to the Word. My knowledge of God and His Word is that which helps me."

Being advised to go into the country for his health, he prayed about it and finally decided to go. He went to Devonshire, where the great blessing he had already received was greatly augmented by his conversations and prayers with a Spirit-filled minister whom he first heard preach at Teignmouth.

Through the conversations and sermons of this minister Muller was led to see as never before, "that the Word of God alone is our standard of judgment in spiritual things; that it can be explained only by His Holy Spirit; and that in our day, as well as in former times, He is the teacher of His people. The office of the Holy Spirit I had not experimentally understood before that time," he says.

"The result of this was, that the first evening that I shut myself into my room to give myself to prayer and meditation over the Scriptures, I learned more in a few hours than I had done during a period of several months previously." Again, he says, "In addition to these truths, it pleased the Lord to lead me to see a higher standard of devotedness than I had seen before."

On his return to London, Muller sought to lead his brethren in the training seminary into the deeper truths he had been brought to realize. "One brother in particular," he says, "was brought into the same state in which I was; and others, I trust, were more or less benefited. Several times, when I went to my room after family prayer, I found communion with God so sweet that I continued in prayer until after twelve, and then being full of joy, went into the room of the brother just referred to, and finding him also in a similar frame of heart, we continued praying until one or two, and even then I was a few times so full of joy that I could scarcely sleep, and at six in the morning again called the brethren together for prayer."

Muller's health declined in London, and his soul was also now on fire for God in such a way that he could not settle down to the routine of daily studies. His newly acquired belief in the near coming of Christ also urged him forward to work for the salvation of souls. He felt that the Lord was leading him to begin at once the Christian work he was longing to do, and as the London Missionary Society did not see proper to send him out without the prescribed course of training, he decided to go at once and trust the Lord for the means of support.

Soon after this, he became pastor of Ebenezer Chapel, Teignmouth, Devonshire. His marriage to Miss Mary Groves, a Devonshire lady, followed. She was always of the same mind as her husband and their married life was a very happy one. Not long after his marriage he began to have conscientious scruples about receiving a regular salary, and also about the renting of pews in his church. He felt that the latter was giving the "man with the ring on his finger" the best seat, and the poorer brother the footstool, and the former was taking money from those who did not give "cheerfully" or "as the Lord had prospered them." These two customs were discontinued by him.

He and his wife told their needs to no one but the Lord. Occasionally reports were spread that they were starving; but though at times their faith was tried, their income was greater than before. He and his wife gave away freely all that they had above their present needs, and trusted the Lord for their "daily bread."

Muller preached in many surrounding towns, and many souls were brought to Christ in his meetings. In 1832 he felt profoundly impressed that his work was ended in Teignmouth, and when he went to Bristol the same year he was as profoundly impressed that the Lord would have him work there.

When the Spirit, the Word, and the providence of God agree, we may be quite certain that the Lord is leading us, for these three are always in harmony and cannot disagree. Not only did Muller feel led of the Lord to work in Bristol, but the providence of God opened the way, and it seemed in harmony with the Word of God.

Muller began his labors in Bristol in 1832, as co-pastor with his friend Henry Craik, who had been called to that city. Without salaries or rented pews, their labors were greatly blessed at Gideon and Bethesda Chapels. The membership more than quadrupled in numbers in a short time. Ten days after the opening of Bethesda there was such a crowd of people inquiring the way of salvation that it took four hours to minister to them.

Subsequently, Gideon Chapel was relinquished, and in the course of time two neighboring chapels were secured. These churches, though calling themselves non-sectarian, were usually classed with the people commonly known as "Plymouth Brethren." Muller continued to preach to them as long as he lived, even after he began his great work for the orphans. At the time of his death he had a congregation of about two thousand people at Bethesda Chapel.

In 1834 Mr. Muller started the Scripture Knowledge Institution for Home and Abroad. Its object was to aid Christian day schools, to assist missionaries, and to circulate the Scriptures. This institution, without worldly patronage, without asking anyone for help, without contracting debts; without committees, subscribers, or memberships -- but through faith in the Lord alone -- had obtained and disbursed no less a sum than £1,500,000 at the time of Mr. Muller's death. The bulk of this was expended for the orphanage. [Multiply that by 100 to get an idea of the vast sum today!]

At the time of Mr. Muller's death 122,000 people had been taught in the schools supported by these funds; and about 282,000 Bibles and 1,500,000 Testaments had been distributed by means of the same fund. Also 112,000,000 religious books, pamphlets and tracts had been circulated; missionaries had been aided in all parts of the world; and no less than ten thousand orphans had been cared for by means of this same fund.

At the age of seventy, Mr. Muller began to make great evangelistic tours. He traveled 200,000 miles, going around the world and preaching in many lands and in several different languages. He frequently spoke to as many as 4,500 or 5,000 people. Three times he preached throughout the length and breadth of the United States. He continued his missionary or evangelistic tours until he was ninety years of age. He estimated that during these seventeen years of evangelistic work he addressed three million people. All his expenses were sent in answer to the prayer of faith.

Greatest of all Muller's undertakings was the erection and maintenance of the great orphanages at Bristol. He began the undertaking with only two shillings in his pocket; but in answer to prayer and without making his needs known to human beings, he received the means necessary to erect the great buildings and to feed the orphans day by day for sixty years.

In all that time the children did not have to go without a meal, and Mr. Muller said that if they ever had to go without a meal he would take it as evidence that the Lord did not will the work to continue. Sometimes the meal time was almost at hand and they did not know where the food would come from, but the Lord always sent it in due time during the twenty thousand or more days that Mr. Muller had charge of the homes.

When Muller began to trust the Lord for money, he found it as difficult to trust the Lord for a shilling as it was afterwards to trust Him for a thousand pounds. The more his faith was exercised, the stronger it became. Funds for one immense building after another were sent in answer to prayer, until Muller had received more than a hundred thousand pounds for this purpose alone. Six hundred pounds a week was required for the support of the orphans at the time of Mr. Muller's death, and yet the Lord sent them day by day their daily bread.

When a youth, Muller had seen the great orphanage at Halle, in Prussia, supported by Professor Francke in answer to the simple prayer of faith, and after going to Bristol he felt that the Lord was laying it upon his heart to begin a similar work in that city, as a monument and testimony to the world to show that the Lord still hears and answers prayer.

When he had accomplished this great work, the Lord gently removed him. He dropped dead in his room on the night of March 10, 1898. One of his leading helpers informed the writer that every feature of his countenance showed that he had died in peace.

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FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL

1836-1879

Few lives have left behind them a sweeter fragrance or holier influence than that of beautiful, talented, and consecrated Frances Ridley Havergal, who wrote "Take my life and let it be," and others of our most popular hymns. In tens of thousands of homes all over the world Miss Havergal's name became a household word.

Countless multitudes have received blessing through her hymns and devotional works. Her little booklets, My King, Royal Commandments and Royal Bounty, Daily Thoughts on Coming to Christ, Kept for the Master's Use, and so on, have been the means of deepening the spiritual life of many of God's children. To Miss Havergal Christ was indeed "a living bright Reality; more dear, more intimately nigh, than e'en the sweetest earthly tie."

One of her latest whispers was, "I did so want to glorify Him in every step of my way." Many Christians sincerely desire to know the secret of such a life as hers, and to attain its great heights of joy and peace.

Frances Ridley Havergal was the youngest child of Christian parents. She was born in 1836, at Astley, in Worcestershire, England, where her father was rector at the time. She was a very beautiful child, fond of romping and climbing trees. She was so full of life and vivacity that her father called her his "Little Quicksilver."

She was extremely intelligent for her age, and could read simple books easily at the age of three. At four, she could write well, and could read the Bible correctly. Her father was a composer and musician of no little merit, and at the age of nine Frances wrote long letters to her friends in perfect rhyme.

As a little girl, Frances sang hymns sweetly, and she often sat upon her father's knee while he read the Scriptures; but she did not remember having any serious impressions about religion until she was six years old. At that age she was deeply convicted of sin by hearing a sermon which dwelt much on the terrors of hell and of the Judgment Day.

She told no one, but the sermon was on her mind day and night, and she sought relief in prayer. She remained in great distress about her soul for two years without telling anyone about it. She then ventured to tell a certain curate of the Church of England, in which church she was raised and of which she continued a member; but he attributed her feelings to a recent change of residence that her parents had made in moving from one rectory to another. He thought that she was simply homesick for the old home and friends, and advised her to be a good child and to pray.

After this, she did not open her heart to anyone for about five years, although she was under deep concern about her soul most of the time. Her mother died when she was twelve, and this was a great blow to her. When between thirteen and fourteen, she went to the school of a Mrs. Teed, who was a godly woman, so filled with the Spirit that a great revival broke out in her school in which most of her pupils were converted to Christ.

Many of the girls were so happy that "their countenances shone with a heavenly radiance." This deepened Frances' conviction of sin, and she prayed more earnestly than ever for pardon. After much anxious seeking, she ventured to tell a Miss Cooke -- who afterwards became her stepmother -- how willing she was to give up everything, if she could only find Christ as her Saviour.

Miss Cooke said, "Why can you not trust yourself to your Saviour at once?"

Miss Havergal says, "Then came a flash of hope across me, which made me feel literally breathless. I remember how my heart beat. 'I could surely,' was my response; and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs to think it out.

"I flung myself on my knees in my room, and strove to realize the sudden hope. I was very happy at last I could commit my soul to Jesus. I could trust Him with my all for eternity." She then received a definite assurance of salvation. "Then and there," she says, "I committed my soul to my Saviour. I do not mean to say without any trembling or fear, but I did -- and earth and heaven seemed bright from that moment -- I did trust the Lord Jesus "

From the time of her conversion Frances lived an earnest Christian life. She was in schools and colleges in England and Germany, and afterwards visited different parts of England, Switzerland, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland -- but everywhere she went she took a bold stand for Christ.

She received a splendid education in both England and in Germany, and grew into a beautiful and accomplished young lady. She won many of the highest honors, and became proficient in several languages, including Latin, Greek, French, German, and Hebrew.

She was a talented musician, a gifted singer, and wrote many poems of considerable merit. She was the only truly converted person among the hundred and ten young ladies in her school in Germany, but she took a firm stand for Christ, and suffered much persecution on that account, but won the hearts of some of her schoolmates.

Returning to England in 1854, she was confirmed in Worcester Cathedral. When the bishop laid hands on her and prayed, "Defend, O Lord, this Thy child with Thy heavenly grace, that she may continue Thine forever, and daily increase in Thy Holy Spirit more and more, until she come into Thy everlasting kingdom," her heart entered into the prayer.

"If ever my heart followed a prayer, it did then," she says. "If ever it thrilled with earnest longing not unmixed with joy, it did at the words 'Thine for ever.'" She always observed the anniversary of her confirmation by spending the day in prayer and holy retirement.

Although Miss Havergal lived an earnest Christian life, and sought to glorify God and serve Him by teaching in Sunday school, singing in churches and elsewhere, visiting the needy, and so on, she felt she was only a little child in the spiritual life, and she longed for a deeper Christian experience. Her writings began to attract much attention, and her sweet Christian spirit was noticed on every hand.

She was a great student of the Word of God, and at the age of twenty-two knew the whole of the Gospels, Epistles, Revelation, Psalms, and Isaiah by heart, and the Minor Prophets she learned in later years. She asked the Lord to direct her writing, and to give her every word, and even the rhymes of her poetry. Still she longed for a deeper, richer, fuller Christian experience. Many were her longings to be filled with the Spirit, and to have a closer walk with God.

In Gleams and Glimpses, written in 1858, she says, "...gleams and glimpses, but oh to be filled with joy and the Holy Ghost! Oh, why cannot I trust Him fully?" Later she wrote, "I still wait for the hour when I believe He will reveal Himself to me more directly; but it is the quiet waiting of present trust, not the restless waiting of anxiety and danger."

It was in 1852, at the age of 22, that she wrote the well known hymn, "I gave My life for thee, What hast thou given for Me?" This reveals the deep longings of her heart to be more fully consecrated to Christ. Miss Havergal often met with dark places in seeking for a deeper experience.

In 1865, she wrote, "I had hoped that a kind of tableland had been reached in my journey, where I might walk a while in the light, without the weary succession of rock and hollow, crag and morass, stumbling and striving; but I seem borne back into all the old difficulties of the way, with many sin-made aggravations.

"I think that the great root of all my trouble and alienation is that I do not now make an unconditional surrender of myself to God; and until this is done I shall know no peace. I am sure of it." Later she says, "Oh, that He would indeed purify me and make me white at any cost."

She prayed regularly three times a day, and every morning she prayed especially for the Holy Spirit. After a season of sickness, she wrote, "Oh, that He may make me a vessel sanctified and meet for the Master's use! I look at trial and training of every kind in this light, not its effect upon oneself for oneself, but in its gradual fitting of me to do the Master's work. So, in every painful spiritual darkness or conflict, it has already comforted me to think that God might be leading me through strange dark ways, so that I might afterward be His messenger to some of His children in distress."

She often wondered why others obtained so easily the blessing she had agonized and prayed for so long. Perhaps the Lord was letting her learn what trial was, so that her sweet songs might better comfort others in distress. She says, "I suppose that God's crosses are often made of most unexpected and strange material. Perhaps trial must be felt keenly, or it would not be powerful enough as a medicine in the hands of our beloved Healer; and I think it has been a medicine to me latterly."

Again, she says, "I have learned a real sympathy with others walking in darkness, and sometimes it has seemed to help me to help them." Concerning her trials she also wrote, "Did you ever hear of anyone being very much used for Christ who did not have some special waiting time, some complete upset of all his or her plans first; from Saint Paul being sent off into the desert of Arabia for three years, when he must have been boiling over with the glad tidings, down to the present day?"

Miss Havergal traveled much throughout the British Isles, and made numerous trips to Switzerland; but wherever she was, her soul still longed for a deeper experience. She spent much time in studying and marking her Bible, by the "railroading" method, and this increased her longings to lay hold of the "exceeding great and precious promises" by which we are made "partakers of the divine nature" (2 Peter 1:4).

At this time she wrote, "I have been appropriating all of the promises with a calm sort of twilight happiness, waiting for a clearer light to show me their full beauty and value."

At last the long looked-for experience came, and it lifted her whole life into sunshine and gladness. The following account of how she was brought into a Beulah Land experience is from the pen of her sister Maria, who also enjoyed the same experience.

"We now reach a period in the life of dear Frances that was characterized by surpassing blessing to her soul. The year 1873 was drawing to a close, and she was again visiting Winterdyne.

"One day she received in a letter from N, a tiny book with the title All for Jesus. She read it carefully. Its contents arrested her attention. It set forth a fullness of Christian experience and blessing exceeding that to which she had as yet attained. She was gratefully conscious of having for many years loved the Lord and delighted in His service; but there was in her experience a falling short of the standard, not so much of a holy walk and conversation, as of uniform brightness and continuous enjoyment in the Divine life.

"All for Jesus she found went straight to this point of the need and longing of her soul. Writing in reply to the author of the little book, she said, 'I do so long for deeper and fuller teaching in my own heart,' All for Jesus has touched me very much. ... I know I love Jesus, and there are times when I feel such intensity of love for Him that I have not words to describe it.

"I rejoice too in Him as my 'Master' and 'Sovereign;' but I want to come nearer still, to have the full realization of John 14:21, and to know 'the power of his resurrection,' even if it be with the fellowship of His sufferings. And all this, not exactly for my own joy alone, but for others. ... So I want Jesus to speak to me, to say 'many things' to me, that I may speak for Him to others with real power. It is not knowing doctrine, but being with Him, which will give this.'

"God did not leave her long in this state of mind. He Himself had shown her that there were 'regions beyond' of blessed experience and service; had kindled in her soul the intense desire to go forward and possess them; and now, in His own grace and love, He took her by the hand and led her into the goodly land.

"A few words from her correspondent on the power of Jesus to keep those who abide in Him from falling, and on the continually present power of His blood ('the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth from all sin') were used by the Master in effecting this. Very joyously she replied, 'I see it all, and I have the blessing.'

"The 'sunless ravines' were now forever passed, and henceforth her peace and joy flowed onward, deepening and widening under the teaching of God and the Holy Ghost. The blessing she had received had (to use her own words) 'lifted her whole life into sunshine, of which all she had previously experienced was but as pale and passing April gleams compared with the fullness of summer glory.'

"The practical effect of this was most evident in her daily true-hearted, whole-hearted service for her King; and also in the increased joyousness of the unswerving obedience of her home life, the surest test of all.

"To the reality of this I do most willingly and fully testify. Some time afterwards, in answer to my question, when we were talking quietly together, Frances said, 'Yes, it was on Advent Sunday, December 2, 1873, I first saw clearly the blessedness of true consecration. I saw it as a flash of electric light, and what you see, you can never un-see.

"'There must be full surrender before there can be full blessedness. God admits you by the one into the other. He Himself showed me all this most clearly. You know how singularly I have been withheld from attending all conventions and conferences. Man's teachings has, consequently, had but little to do with it. First, I was shown that the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin, and then it was made plain to me that He Who had thus cleansed me had power to keep me clean; so I just utterly yielded myself to Him, and utterly trusted Him to keep me.'"

In a letter to her sister Maria, written some months after the experience just described, Frances says with regard to it, "First, however, I would distinctly state that it is only as and while a soul is under the full power of the blood of Christ that it can be cleansed from all sin; that one moment's withdrawal from that power, and it is again actively because really sinning; and that it is only as, and while, kept by the power of God Himself that we are not sinning against Him. One instant of standing alone is certain fall!

"But, (premising that,) have we not been limiting the cleansing power of the precious blood when applied by the Holy Spirit, and also the keeping power of God? Have we not been limiting 1 John 1:7, by practically making it refer only to 'remission of sins that are past' instead of taking the grand simplicity of 'cleanseth us from all sin?'

"'All' is all; and as we may trust Him to cleanse us from the stain of past sins, so we may trust Him to cleanse us from all present defilement; yes, all! If not, we take away from this most precious promise, and by refusing to take it in its fullness, lose the fullness of its application and power. Then we limit God's power to keep. We look at our frailty more than His omnipotence. Where is the line to be drawn, beyond which He is not 'able?'

"The very keeping implies total helplessness without it, and the very cleansing most distinctly defilement without it. It was that one word 'cleanseth' which opened the door of a very glory of hope and joy to me. I had never seen the force of the tense before, a continual present, always a present tense, not a present which the next moment becomes a past. It goes on cleansing, and I have no words to tell how my heart rejoices in it. Not a coming to be cleansed in the fountain only, but a remaining in the fountain, so that it may and can go on cleansing.

"Why should we pare down the promises of God to the level of what we have hitherto experienced of what God is 'able to do,' or even of what we have thought He might be able to do for us? Why not receive God's promises, nothing doubting, just as they stand? 'Take the shield of faith, whereby ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.'

"He is able to make all grace abound toward you, that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, and so on, through whole constellations of promises, which surely mean really and fully what they say.

"One arrives at the same thing starting almost from anywhere. Take Philippians 4:19: 'Your need.' Well, what is my great need and craving of soul? Surely it is now, (having been justified by faith, and having assurance of salvation,) to be made holy by the continual sanctifying power of God's Spirit; to be kept from grieving the Lord Jesus; to be kept from thinking or doing whatever is not accordant with His holy will.

"Oh, what a need is this! And it is said, 'He shall supply all your need.' Now, shall we turn round and say 'all' does not mean quite all? Both as to the commands and promises, it seems to me that everything short of believing them as they stand is but another form of, 'Yea, hath God said?'

"Thus accepting, in simple and unquestioning faith God's commands and promises, one seems to be at once brought into intensified views of everything. Never, oh never before, did sin seem so hateful, so really 'intolerable,' nor watchfulness so necessary, and a keenness and uninterruptedness of watchfulness too, beyond what one ever thought of, only somehow different -- not a distressed sort, but a happy sort.

"It is the watchfulness of a sentinel when his captain is standing by him on the ramparts, when his eye is more than ever on the alert for any sign of the approaching enemy, because he knows they can only approach to be defeated. Then, too, the 'all for Jesus' comes in. One sees there is no halfway, it must be absolutely all yielded up, because the least unyielded or doubtful point is sin, let alone the great fact of owing all to Him. And one cannot, dare not, temporize with sin.

"I know, and have found, that even a momentary hesitation about yielding, or obeying, or trusting and believing, vitiates all, the communion is broken, the joy is vanished; only, thank God, this need never continue even five minutes, faith may plunge instantly into 'the fountain, open for sin and uncleanness,' and again find its power to cleanse and restore. Then one wants to have more and more light.

One does not shrink from painful discoveries of evil, because one so wants to have the unknown depths of it cleansed, as well as what comes to the surface. 'Cleanse me throughly from my sin,' and one prays to be shown this. But so far as one does see, one must 'put away sin' and obey entirely; and here again His power is our resource, enabling us to do what without it we could not do.

"One of the intensest moments of my life was when I saw the force of that word 'cleanseth.' The utterly unexpected and altogether unimagined sense of its fulfillment to me, on simply believing it in its fullness, was just indescribable. I expected nothing like it short of heaven." Referring to the same experience, in a letter to a friend, she said, "The year 1873 has been a time of unprecedented blessing to me."

Miss Havergal's whole life was now lifted to a higher plane, and the few remaining years were the richest of her life -- richest in Christian experience and richest in service for her King. Wherever she went, her life was full of service, and her words were winged with a new spiritual power. It was at this time too that she wrote her great consecration hymn, "Take my life and let it be,"

She says, "Perhaps you will be interested to know the origin of the consecration hymn, 'Take my life.' I went for a little visit of five days. There were ten people in the house, some unconverted and long prayed for; some converted but not rejoicing Christians. He gave me the prayer, 'Lord, give me all in this house!' And He just did!

"Before I left the house, everyone had got a blessing. The last night of my visit I was too happy to sleep, and passed most of the night in praise and renewal of my consecration, and these little couplets formed themselves and chimed in my heart one after another, till they finished with, 'Ever, Only, all for Thee!'"

She now refused to sing anything except sacred songs and hymns. Her voice, like her pen, was "always, only, for her King;" and many hearts were touched by her consecrated singing and writing. She considered every moment of her time as belonging to the Lord, and sought to use it to His glory.

She was very fond of trekking over the mountains in Switzerland, and her Alpine guide said that in climbing them she "went up like a chamois," but this was for the benefit of her health, and she embodied in her writings the thoughts concerning God suggested to her by His handiwork in nature.

She also sought to win souls for Christ during her numerous visits to Switzerland. Not only did she consider every moment of her time as wholly the Lord's, but she regarded every penny of her money as belonging to Him. "I forget sometimes," she says, "but as a rule I never spend a sixpence without the distinct feeling that it is His, and must be spent for Him only, even if indirectly."

She did not feel free to spend her money for "costly array." She gave her jewelry for the missionary cause, and dressed plainly but neatly. Her idea of the proper way for a Christian to dress was so as not to attract attention either by slovenliness or extravagance.

"The question of cost I see very strongly," she says, "and do not consider myself at liberty to spend on dress that which might be spared for God's work; but it costs no more to have a thing well and prettily made, and I should only feel justified in getting a costly dress if it would last proportionately longer."

Miss Havergal's time was now occupied with her writing, in giving Bible readings and addresses, in visiting the poor, and in doing needlework for the Zenana missions and for the poor.

In 1877 she took up temperance work as well. She spent much time in visiting from house to house, to read the Bible and point souls to Christ. She often gave Bible readings or addressed meetings in drawing rooms and other places, and frequently led consecration meetings.

The first consecration meeting she was ever in was conducted by herself, and it was a time of rich blessing. Deeply spiritual and full of trust were her Bible readings and addresses. She often sang in churches, hospitals, and other places. Every morning she spent much time in studying and marking her Bible, sitting at her table to do so.

Sometimes, on bitterly cold mornings, her sister would beg her to study with her feet to the fire. "But then," Frances would reply, "I can't rule my lines neatly; just see what a find I've got! If one only searches, there are such extraordinary things in the Bible!"

Many were the letters of comfort and consolation that she sent to all parts of the earth. Her books also carried a blessing with them wherever they went. Children flocked to her in crowds, and grown people corresponded with her from all quarters. From morning to night she was occupied in the Master's service.

Miss Havergal often referred to the experience of 1873, which made the closing years of her life such a blessing to others. In 1875 she said to her sister, "It's no mistake, Marie, about the blessing God sent me December 2, 1873. It is far more distinct than my conversion. I can't date that. I am always happy, and it is such peace."

The same year she wrote, "He has granted me to rejoice fully in His will. I am not conscious of even a wish crossing it. I do really and altogether desire that His will may be done, whatever it is." Even when suffering from poor health, or after some great temporal loss, she could still "rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of her salvation" (Habakkuk 3:18).

When her American publishers failed, and she did not receive the money due for her books, she wrote, "I have not a fear, or a doubt, or a care, or a shadow upon the sunshine of my heart." Later, when many valuable stereotype plates of her music and songs were destroyed by fire, she was still happy, believing that God had a purpose in allowing adversities. She was a daily illustration of "Without Carefulness."

She suffered much from poor health; and as the years went on her health was more and more broken. She literally wore herself out ministering to others. When her friends sympathized with her sufferings in her last illness, she whispered, "Never mind, it's home the faster! God's will is delicious; He makes no mistakes."

Shortly before she expired, she requested that her favorite text, "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth from all sin," should be placed on her tomb. On her dying bed she frequently exclaimed, "So beautiful to go!" Near the end she said, "Oh, I want you all to speak bright, bright words for Jesus! Oh, do, do! It is all perfect peace. I am only waiting for Jesus to take me in."

Perhaps Miss Havergal's experience is best described in her own words, quoted by her sister:

There were strange soul depths,

Restless, vast, and broad,

Unfathomed as the sea;

An infinite craving for some infinite stilling;

But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling,

Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God,

Thou, Thou art enough for me."

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D. L. MOODY

1837-1899

(Last Chapter)

D. L. Moody was undoubtedly one of the greatest evangelists of all time. The meetings held by Moody and Sankey were among the greatest the world has ever known. They were the means under God of arousing the church to new life and activity, and were the means of sweeping tens of thousands of people into the kingdom of God.

Mr. Moody was one of the weak instruments which God has chosen to confound the mighty. Like Christmas Evans, he had very little education before his conversion to Christ. At the age of seventeen he could scarcely read or write, and in a Bible class he could not turn to the book of John but searched for it in the Old Testament. After his conversion he became a proficient scholar. Few men have learned so much in the school of observation.

Dwight Lyman Moody was of old New England Puritan stock. For seven generations, or two hundred years, his ancestors lived the quiet lives of farmers in the Connecticut Valley. Moody inherited the vigorous constitution and hardy common sense of the typical New Englander. He was the sixth child in a family of nine children, and was born February 5, 1837, in the town of Northfield, Massachusetts, where he afterwards founded his famous Bible schools. His home town was always very dear to him, and it was one of the greatest pleasures of his life to return to it after a long and arduous evangelistic campaign.

Moody's father died at the early age of forty-one, and left his widow in poverty, with a mortgage on the home and seven children to support. The creditors seized everything they could, even the firewood, and the children had to stay in bed until school time to keep warm. A brother of the widowed mother then came to their rescue and helped to relieve their immediate needs.

In their extremity, Reverend Mr. Everett, the Unitarian minister, was very kind to them, and all the Moody children became members of his Sunday school, and were enlisted as workers to bring in other children. It was here, therefore, that young Moody began his successful career as a Sunday school worker.

Moody's mother had sought to bring up her children as a Christian mother should, and Dwight never wandered into gross sins as so many young men have done. Lying, complaining, breaking of promises, or talking evil about others, was never allowed in the home.

When Dwight was eight, he and an elder brother were crossing the river in a skiff with a boatman who was too drunk to row the boat, and who would not let them touch the oars. They were drifting with the current, but Dwight urged his brother to trust in the Lord, and they came safely to land. Dwight was mischievous but not wicked as a boy.

The Moody family were so poor that the boys carried their shoes and stockings in their hands on their way to church to save them from wear, and when in sight of the church they put them on. One evening when the children had but little to eat, they divided their scant supply with a beggar.

Dwight thought it hard, after working all week, to have to go to church and listen to a sermon he did not understand. Once the preacher had to send someone to the gallery to awaken him. But he got in such a habit of going that he could not stay away, and he afterwards said that he thanked his mother for making him go when he did not feel like going.

At ten, Dwight left home in company with another brother to work at a place thirteen miles away. This nearly broke his mother's heart, as she had striven so hard to keep the family together. He was fondly attached to his mother and sorrowed over leaving her. When he arrived at the new place an aged man gave him a penny and bade him trust the Lord. "That old man's blessing has followed me for fifty years," said Mr. Moody.

At seventeen, Moody, tired of farm life and ambitious to work his way upward in the world, decided to go to Boston. He arrived there without any money and tried in vain to find work until he was almost in despair. He then found employment with an uncle who was in the shoe business. He succeeded well as a salesman, and became a regular attendant at the Mount Vernon Congregational Sunday school.

Having but little schooling, he took but little part in the discussions in the class in Sunday school, but gradually became deeply interested in the study of the Bible, and finally took part in the discussions in the class. His teacher, Mr. Kimball, took great interest in him, and gradually led him to see the plan of salvation, until all that was necessary was a personal interview to lead him to Christ. Mr. Kimball prayerfully sought for a proper time for this interview.

"I determined to speak to him about Christ and about his soul," says Mr. Kimball, "and started down to Holton's shoe store. When I was nearly there I began to wonder whether I ought to go in just then during business hours. I thought that possibly my call might embarrass the boy, and that when I went away the other clerks would ask who I was, and taunt him with my efforts in trying to make him a good boy.

"In the meantime I had passed the store, and discovering this, I determined to make a dash for it and have it over at once. I found Moody in the back part of the building wrapping up shoes. I went up to him at once, and putting my hand on his shoulder I made what I afterward thought was a very weak plea for Christ.

"I don't know just what words I used, nor could Mr. Moody tell. I simply told him of Christ's love for him and the love Christ wanted in return. That was all there was. It seemed the young man was just ready for the light that then broke upon him, and there, in the back of the store in Boston, he gave himself and his life to Christ."

Moody's whole life was now changed, and became one of joyful Christian service. "Before my conversion," he says, "I worked towards the Cross, but since then I have worked from the Cross. Then, I worked to be saved. Now, I work because I am saved."

Again, he says, "I remember the morning on which I came out of my room after I first trusted Christ. I think the sun shone a good deal brighter than it ever had before. I thought that it was just smiling upon me; and as I walked out on Boston Common and heard the birds singing in the trees, I thought they were all singing a song to me."

Moody was now running over with zeal and love for the Master, but he does not seem to have received much help and encouragement from the conservative deacons and church members in the church he was attending. Next year after his conversion he was denied church membership, because he was "not sufficiently instructed in Christian doctrine." Three of the committee who examined him were appointed to instruct him in the way of God more perfectly.

In 1856, the second year after his conversion, Moody went to Chicago, where he united with the Plymouth Congregational Church and became a very active Christian worker, putting his soul and energy into the work of winning men to Christ. He rented a pew in the church, and filled it with young men every Sunday. Then he rented another and another until he had rented and filled four pews.

The great revival awakened by Finney spread to Chicago, and Moody was in his element. Meanwhile, he was prospering in his business, and was so good a salesman of shoes that his employer sent him out as a commercial traveler.

He found a little mission Sunday school in Chicago where they had sixteen teachers and only twelve scholars. Here he applied to become a teacher. They consented on condition that he would find his own scholars. This just suited his taste and next Sunday he arrived with eighteen little hoodlums he had gathered from the streets.

He soon had the building crowded. In the fall of 1858 he began another mission school on a larger scale in another part of the city. The large hall was soon overcrowded. He then procured a larger hall, which afterward developed into one of the leading churches of Chicago. This big hall he soon had filled with street "gamins."

The children loved him and crowded in by the hundreds and sung the hymns with great enjoyment. Moody also enticed them in with prizes, free pony rides, picnics, candies, and other things dear to the hearts of children. Scholars were allowed to transfer to any class they desired by simply notifying the superintendent, and this plan resulted in the survival of the fittest teachers.

The school soon numbered 1,500. Moody decided to build a church and issued certificates on the "North Market Sabbath School Association; capital $10,000; 40,000 shares at 25 cents each." The Sunday school grew to such proportions that parents were drawn in, and then meetings were held almost every night in the week. Many prominent men assisted Moody in the Sunday school and in the meetings, but so much devolved on him that he had sometimes to be both janitor and superintendent.

This practical training contributed much to Moody's success as a preacher. Doubtless he needed such training, as at first he seems to have spoken very awkwardly in public. When he first arose to speak in a prayer meeting, one of the deacons assured him that, in his opinion, he would serve God best by keeping still!

Another critic, who praised Moody for his zeal in filling the pews at Plymouth Church, said that he should realize his limitations and not attempt to speak in public. "You make too many mistakes in grammar," he said.

"I know I make mistakes," was the reply, "and I lack many things, but I'm doing the best I can with what I've got." He then paused, and looking at the man searchingly, inquired, in his own inimitable way, "Look, here, friend, you've got grammar enough -- what are you doing with it for the Master?"

Mr. Moody's great Sunday school work was accomplished before he was more than twenty-three years old. With all his work for Christ he had no thought of entering the ministry until he found that souls were being led to Christ through his efforts. He then decided to give up the shoe business in which he had been engaged, and in which he had already made over $7,000, and to devote all his time to Christian work.

During the Civil War, Moody became a prominent member of the Christian Commission, and did a great work holding meetings and distributing Gospels and tracts among the soldiers and prisoners of war quartered in Chicago and on many leading battlefields of the Southern States.

After the war he returned to Chicago and again devoted himself to Sunday school and Young Men's Christian Association work. His Sunday school was so great a success that it made him famous all over the country. Inquiries concerning his methods of work came from all directions, and people traveled thousands of miles to learn them.

He was called to many places to address Sunday school conventions and to help organize Sunday school work. Through his efforts, many Sunday schools were led to agree to use the same lessons each Sunday, and thus the International Sunday School Lessons were started.

Moody became one of the most prominent Young Men's Christian Association workers in America, and it was at a YMCA convention in Indianapolis, Indiana, in 1870, that he first met Ira David Sankey who became his great singing partner. Moody was so impressed with his singing that he asked him to come with him and sing for him. In Indianapolis they held their first meeting together, in the open air. Some months afterward Sankey gave up his business and joined Mr. Moody in his work.

In 1867 Mr. Moody made up his mind to go to Great Britain and study the methods of Christian work employed in that country. He did so, accompanied by Mrs. Moody, who was suffering from asthma. He was particularly anxious to hear Spurgeon, the great English preacher, and George Muller, who had the large orphanages at Bristol. Moody was then unknown in England, except to a few prominent Sunday school leaders, but he spoke a number of times in London and Bristol with good results.

It was during this first visit to Britain that Moody heard the words which set him hungering and thirsting after a deeper Christian experience, and which marked a new era in his life. The words were spoken to him by Mr. Henry Varley, the well-known evangelist, as they sat together on a seat in a public park in Dublin.

The words were these: "The world has yet to see what God will do with and for and through and in and by the man who is fully consecrated to Him."

"He said 'a man,'" thought Moody. "He did not say a great man, or a learned man, or a 'smart' man, but simply 'a man.' I am a man, and it lies with the man himself whether he will or will not make that entire and full consecration. I will try my utmost to be that man."

The words kept ringing in his mind, and burning their way into his soul until finally he was led into the deeper, richer, fuller experience for which his soul yearned. The impression the words made was deepened soon afterward by words spoken by Mr. Bewley, of Dublin, Ireland, to whom he was introduced by a friend.

"Is this young man all O and O?" asked Mr. Bewley.

"What do you mean by 'O and O'?" said the friend.

"Is he out and out for Christ?" was the reply.

From that time forward Moody's desire to be "O and O" for Christ was supreme.

Moody's hunger for a deeper spiritual experience was deepened by the preaching of Henry Moorehouse, the famous English boy preacher who visited Moody's church in Chicago soon after Mr. Moody returned to America. For seven nights, Moorehouse preached from the text, John 3:16: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

Every night, Henry Moorehouse rose to a higher and higher plain of thought, beginning at Genesis and going through the Bible to Revelation, showing how much God loved the world. He pointed out how God loved the world so much that He sent patriarchs and prophets, and other holy men to plead with the people, and then He sent His only Son; and when they had killed Him, He sent the Holy Ghost.

In closing the seventh sermon from the text, Moorehouse said, "My friends, for a whole week I have been trying to tell you how much God loves you, but I cannot do it with this poor stammering tongue. If I could borrow Jacob's ladder and climb up into heaven and ask Gabriel, who stands in the presence of the Almighty, to tell me how much love the Father has for the world, all he could say would be, 'God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.'"

Moody's heart was melted within him as he listened to the young preacher describing the love of God for lost mankind. It gave him such a vision of the love of God as he had never seen before, and from that time forward Moody's preaching was of a more deeply spiritual character.

Moody continued to hunger for a deepening of his own spiritual life and experience. He had been greatly used by God, but felt that there were much greater things in store for him. The year 1871 was a critical one with him. He realized more and more how little he was fitted by personal acquirements for his work, and how much he needed to be qualified for service by the Holy Spirit's power.

This realization was deepened by conversations he had with two ladies who sat on the front pew in his church. He could see by the expression of their faces that they were praying. At the close of the service they said to him, "We have been praying for you."

"Why don't you pray for the people?" Mr. Moody asked.

"Because you need the power of the Spirit," was the reply.

"I need the power! Why," he said, in relating the incident afterwards, "I thought I had power. I had the largest congregation in Chicago, and there were many conversions. I was in a sense satisfied. But right along those two godly women kept praying for me, and their earnest talk about anointing for special service set me thinking. I asked them to come and talk with me, and they poured out their hearts in prayer that I might receive the filling of the Holy Spirit.

"There came a great hunger into my soul. I did not know what it was. I began to cry out as I never did before. I really felt that I did not want to live, if I could not have this power for service."

"While Mr. Moody was in this mental and spiritual condition," says his son, "Chicago was laid in ashes. The great fire swept out of existence both Farwell Hall and Illinois Street Church. On Sunday night after the meeting, as Mr. Moody went homeward, he saw the glare of flames, and knew it meant ruin to Chicago. About one o'clock Farwell Hall was burned, and soon his church went down. Everything was scattered."

Mr. Moody went east to New York City to collect funds for the sufferers from the Chicago fire, but his heart and soul were crying out for the power from on high. "My heart was not in the work of begging," he says. "I could not appeal. I was crying all the time that God would fill me with His Spirit. Well, one day, in the city of New York -- oh, what a day! \-- I cannot describe it, I seldom refer to it. It is almost too sacred an experience to name.

"Paul had an experience of which he never spoke for fourteen years. I can only say that God revealed Himself to me, and I had such an experience of His love that I had to ask Him to stay His hand. I went to preaching again. The sermons were not different. I did not present any new truths, and yet hundreds were converted. I would not now be placed back where I was before that blessed experience, if you should give me all the world \-- it would be as the small dust of the balance."

Moody's church was soon rebuilt in Chicago, thousands of Sunday school scholars contributing five cents each to place a brick in the new edifice. But the anointing of the Spirit, which he received while walking along the streets of New York, set his soul on fire in such a way that his work soon became a worldwide one.

Desiring to learn more of the Scriptures from English Bible students, he visited England again in 1872. He did not expect to hold any meetings during this visit, but he accepted an invitation to preach at the Sunday morning and evening service at Arundel Square Congregational Church in the north part of London. In the evening the power of the Spirit seemed to fall upon the congregation, and the inquiry room was crowded with people seeking salvation.

Next day he went to Dublin, Ireland, but an urgent telegram called him back to continue his meetings at the North London Church. He continued there for ten days, and four hundred people were added to the church. He was invited to Dublin and Newcastle but decided not to go at that time, and he returned to America.

Next year, at the invitation of two English friends, he started for England, accompanied by Mr. Sankey. His English friends had promised funds for the visit, but the money did not come, and Mr. Moody borrowed enough to enable him to go to England. On arriving there he learned that both of his friends had died. No door seemed open for him. But before leaving America he had received a letter from the Secretary of the YMCA at York, England, inviting him to address the young men there if he ever came to England.

He and Mr. Sankey went to York, and began a series of meetings there which lasted for five weeks. Interest gradually increased until the meeting places were crowded half an hour before the time of service, and many souls decided for Christ.

The evangelists went from York to Sunderland, where they had still greater meetings than in York. The largest halls in the city had to be secured for the services. Their next series of meetings was in Newcastle, where the meetings were gigantic, special trains bringing people from surrounding cities and towns. Here the evangelists published their first hymnbook, which soon became popular all over Britain.

On their return to America in 1875, they published a similar hymnbook entitled Gospel Hymns, No. 1, which was followed by Numbers 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. These books have been a means of blessing to multitudes throughout the world. They marked a new era in the history of the Christian church. The royalties on them were at first devoted to a number of benevolent purposes, but afterwards to the founding and carrying on of Mr. Moody's great Bible schools at Northfield.

From the North of England the evangelists went to Scotland and began a series of meetings in Edinburgh. Here they had one of the greatest series of meetings ever known in the world's history. No building was large enough to accommodate the immense throngs which flocked to their meetings. "Never, probably," says Professor William Blaikie, "was Scotland so stirred; never was there so much expectation."

In Glasgow, Scotland, the evangelists had similar meetings to those at Edinburgh. At the closing service at the Glasgow Crystal Palace, in the Botanic Gardens, the building was packed so tightly with people that Moody could not enter, and there were still twenty or thirty thousand people on the outside. Moody spoke to the great throng from the seat of a cab, and the choir led the singing from the roof of a nearby shed.

When the Glasgow Crystal Palace was filled with inquirers seeking salvation, there were still about 2,000 inquirers outside the building. Moody probably addressed as many as thirty thousand people at one time in Edinburgh and as many as forty thousand in Glasgow. Other great meetings were held in Liverpool and many other British cities, and finally in London.

When the evangelists left Britain in 1875, after a campaign of two years and one week, the whole country had been stirred religiously as it had not been stirred since the days of Wesley and Whitefield. About 14,000 children attended the children's meeting in Liverpool. Over 600 ministers attended the closing services in London. Moody said that he had such a consciousness of the presence of God in the London meetings that "the people seemed as grasshoppers." Professor Henry Drummond said that Moody spoke to exactly "an acre of people" every meeting during his campaign in the East End of London.

On their return to America, Moody and Sankey held great meetings in Brooklyn, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Chicago, and in many other cities of the United States. In 1881 they again visited Great Britain and conducted another gigantic evangelistic campaign. After this, Moody made repeated trips to Britain, and once he visited the Holy Land. He devoted much time to building up his great Bible schools at Northfield and in Chicago.

During the World's Fair in Chicago in 1893, he conducted great meetings in the largest halls in the city, and in Forepaugh's Circus tent, with the assistance of famous preachers from all over the world. Millions heard the gospel preached during this campaign.

Moody continued his evangelistic campaigns until his death in 1899. His last great series of meetings was in a gigantic hall in Kansas City. While there, he was seized with heart trouble and hastened home to die. Among his last words were, "This is my triumph; this is my coronation day. I have been looking forward to it for years!"

This old world had lost its charms for him, and for a long time he had been "home-sick for heaven." His earthly remains were laid to rest on "Round Top," at his beloved Northfield. By his special request there were no emblems of mourning at his funeral services.

It is estimated that no less than a hundred million people heard the gospel from his lips, and his training schools [renamed Moody Bible Institute after Moody's death in 1899] are training many others to carry the Glad Tidings throughout the world.

THE END

More Books

White Tree Publishing publishes mainstream evangelical Christian literature for people of all ages. We aim to make our eBooks available free for all eBook devices, but some distributors will only list our books free at their discretion, and may make a small charge for some titles -- but they are still great value! All our books are fully typeset. No "photocopies" or bad OCR. So check for our name, White Tree Publishing, before downloading! Long sentences and paragraphs are broken into shorter lengths, and modern punctuation is used for easier reading. Many books are sensitively abridged, but in our non-fiction books no doctrine or teaching is changed. The full list of published and forthcoming books is on our website www.whitetreepublishing.com. Please visit there regularly for updates.

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Christian non-fiction

Christian Fiction

Younger Readers

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Christian Non-Fiction

All our books are in eBook format only, unless otherwise stated

Four short books of help in the Christian life:

Chris Wright

So, What Is a Christian?

An introduction to a personal faith.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-2-6

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9927642-2-7

Starting Out

Help for new Christians of all ages.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-0-2

Paperback ISBN 978-1-4839-622-0-7

Help!

Explores some problems we can encounter with our faith.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-1-9

Paperback ISBN 978-0-9927642-2-7

Running Through the Bible

A simple understanding of what's in the Bible.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-3-3

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9927642-6-5

Be Still

Bible Words of Peace and Comfort

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-4-0

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9932760-7-1

A Previously Unpublished Book

The Simplicity of the Incarnation

J Stafford Wright

Foreword by J I Packer

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-5-7

Paperback ISBN: 9-780-9525-9563-2

Bible People Real People

An Unforgettable A-Z of Who is Who in the Bible

J Stafford Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-7-1

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-5-6

Christians and the Supernatural

J Stafford Wright

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-4-0

Paperback ISBN 13: 9-780-9525-9564-9

Howell Harris

His Own Story

Foreword by J. Stafford Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-9-5

From the Streets of London

to the Streets of Gold

The Life Story of

Brother Clifford Edwards

A True Story of Love

by Brother Clifford Edwards

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-8-8

Seven Steps to

Walking in Victory

Lin Wills

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-3-5

Seven Keys to

Unlock Your Calling

Lin Wills

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-2-3

English Hexapla

The Gospel of John

(Paperback only)

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-1-8

Roddy Goes to Church

Church Life and Church People

Derek Osborne

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-0-3

Paperback ISBN: 978-09927642-0-3

Heaven Our Home

William Branks

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-8-8

I See Men as Trees, Walking

Roger and Janet Niblett

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-1-0

Paperback ISBN: 978-1508674979

Leaves from

My Notebook

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

William Haslam

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-2-7

Blunt's Scriptural Coincidences

Gospels and Acts

J. J. Blunt

White Tree Publishing New Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-5-8

Fullness of Power

in Christian Life and Service

Home and Group Questions for Today Edition

R. A. Torrey

Questions by Chuck Antone, Jr.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-8-9

Faith that Prevails

The Early Pentecostal Movement

Home and Group Questions for Today Edition

Smith Wigglesworth

Study Questions by Chuck Antone, Jr.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-4-1

Ebenezer and Ninety-Eight Friends

Musings on Life, Scripture

and the Hymns

Marty Magee

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-1-1

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9954549-1-0

Twenty-five Days Around the Manger

A Light Family Advent Devotional

Marty Magee

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-1-0

Also in full colour paperback

ISBN: 978-1-4923248-0-5

The Gospels and Acts

In Simple Paraphrase

with Helpful Explanations

together with

Running Through the Bible

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-9-6

Paperback ISBN: 978-0995454958

The Authority and

Interpretation

of the Bible

J Stafford Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-9-6

Psalms,

A Guide Psalm By Psalm

J Stafford Wright

eBook ISBN 978-0-9957594-2-8

The Christian's Secret

of a Happy Life

Hannah Whitall Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-6-6

Every-Day Religion

Hannah Whitall Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-0-9

Haslam's Journey

Chris Wright

White Tree Publishing Edition

Previously published 2005 by Highland Books

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-8-5

My Life and Work

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-4-7

Living in the Sunshine:

The God of All Comfort

Hannah Whitall Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-3-0

Evangelistic Talks

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-7-8

Real Religion

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-10-0

I Can't Help Praising the Lord

The Life of Billy Bray

Chris Wright

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-01-8

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-912529-00-1

As Jesus Passed By

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-05-6

Rifted Clouds

Bella Cooke

All Three Parts

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-08-7

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-912529-09-4

*****************

Christian Fiction

The majority of these books are Victorian classics that have been sensitively edited and abridged for today's readers

The Lost Clue

Mrs. O. F. Walton

Abridged Edition

A Romantic Mystery

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-2-6

Doctor Forester

Mrs. O. F. Walton

Abridged Edition

A Romantic Mystery

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-0-2

Was I Right?

Mrs. O. F. Walton

Abridged Edition

A Victorian Romance

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-1-9

In His Steps

Charles M. Sheldon

Abridged Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9927642-9-6

Paperback ISBN 13: 978-19350791-8-7

A Previously Unpublished Book

Locked Door Shuttered Windows

A Novel by J Stafford Wright

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-3-3

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9927642-4-1

When it Was Dark

Guy Thorne

Abridged Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-0-3

Silverbeach Manor

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-4-1

Gildas Haven

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-7-2

Amaranth's Garden

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-6-5

Rose Capel's Sacrifice

Margaret Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-3-4

Una's Marriage

Margaret Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-5-9

Miss Elizabeth's Niece

Margaret Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-7-3

Keena Karmody

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-5-4

The Clever Miss Jancy

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-9-7

A Daughter of the King

Mrs Philip Barnes

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-8-0

Hazel Haldene

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-8-5

Rollica Reed

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-6-1

Freda's Folly

Margaret S Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-02-5

Sybil's Repentance

Margaret S Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-04-9

Sister Royal

Margaret S Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-03-2

The Secret of Ashton Manor House

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-11-7

***************************

Books for Younger Readers

(and older readers too!)

The Merlin Adventure

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-2-7

Paperback ISBN: 9785-203447-7-5

The Hijack Adventure

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-6-5

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5203448-0-5

The Seventeen Steps Adventure

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-7-2

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5203448-6-7

The Two Jays Adventure

The First Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-8-9

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5203448-8-1

The Dark Tunnel Adventure

The Second Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-0-4

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5206386-3-8

The Cliff Edge Adventure

The Third Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-4-2

Paperback ISBN: 9781-5-211370-3-1

The Midnight Farm Adventure

The Fourth Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-1-6

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5497148-3-2

The Old House Adventure

The Fifth Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-07-0

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-912529-06-3

Mary Jones and Her Bible

An Adventure Book

Chris Wright

The true story of Mary Jones's and her Bible

with a clear Christian message and optional puzzles

(Some are easy, some tricky, and some amusing)

eBook ISBN: ISBN: 978-0-9933941-5-7

Paperback ISBN 978-0-9525956-2-5

Pilgrim's Progress

An Adventure Book

Chris Wright

A similar format to Mary Jones

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9933941-6-4

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-6-3

Pilgrim's Progress

Special Edition

The original story retold

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-8-8

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-7-0

Zephan and the Vision

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-6-4

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-9-4

Agathos, The Rocky Island,

And Other Stories

Chris Wright

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9927642-7-2

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-8-7

Please visit our website www.whitetreepublishing.com for full details on all these books, and their availability.

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