02.B08. Results Of The Baptism Received

CHAPTER VIII.

RESULTS OF THE BAPTISM RECEIVED. THE reader may be interested and instructed by receiving some specific account of the effects of the baptism received among us. In regard to myself, I would say, that since that time the Bible in its entireness has been to me a new book. When I became conscious that I was "reading it with new eyes," I read it through and through for the specific purpose of renewing my apprehensions of all its life-imparting revelations. I had, up to that time, been a very careful and critical student of the Bible, making it my fixed habit, unless necessarily prevented, to study critically at least one chapter every day, and that with all the human helps at my command. Now no portions of the Sacred Word appeared more new to me than those which I had most carefully studied, and, in the critical sense, most fully understood. There was "spirit and life" in all I read. While I thus walked up and down amid those great revelations, "the exceeding great and precious promises" beamed down upon me as morning stars in a firmament of everlasting light and love. "I know now," I exclaimed, "that ’all things are mine ; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come, all are mine, and I am Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.’" The promises render absolutely sure to every believer all this. It is, however, when, and only when, we have received "the anointing," that we do know, or can know, "the things which are freely given us of God," and consequently "that all things are ours."

I will allude here to some specific facts in my experience. I have already alluded to the absolute subjection of the temper, appetites, and other propensities which directly tempt to sin. I have found the promises equally efficacious in respect to tendencies, the action of which tend to weaken our activities or diminish our power, but which cannot be regarded as sinful. I was, for example, from the first, impeded in the discharge of certain functions of my sacred calling by a natural timidity, which rendered me hesitating and fearful in the circumstances referred to. I earnestly besought the Lord, provided I could serve Him more efficiently without it, to "take from me this thorn in the flesh." The next chapter in the Bible that came in my course of reading contained the divine message to Joshua: "Only be strong, and very courageous." The admonition thrilled through every department of my nature, till timidity and fear departed in a moment, and I felt myself girded with a divine courage and strength for "every good word and work." It is by thus trusting in and pleading the promises at a throne of grace that "he that is feeble among us becomes as David, and the house of David as God, as the angel of the Lord before him." From my earliest memory I had been oppressed with the most terrible fear of dying, and horrified at the idea of being buried. When alone by myself, I would frequently cry out with horror at the thought of being nailed up in a coffin, being let down into the narrow house, and covered up there. Hence the funeral and the burial were to me the most frightful places of which I could conceive. This sentiment oppressed me in all its strength after I became a Christian, and remained until I was "endued with power from on high." I then presented this infirmity at the throne of grace. Soon after this I had in my mind a distinct vision of an open sepulchre, with the body of Christ lying with infinite peacefulness there, angels of God watching at the head and feet of that sacred body. Such a sweetly peaceful scene I had never conceived of before. From that moment I have not only been delivered from all fear and dread of death, the coffin, the grave, the tomb, and the sepulchre, but the thought that, at each setting sun, "I pitch my tent one day nearer" the burying-place, one day "nearer my eternal home than ever before," is one of the sweetest reflections that ever has place in my mind "I would not live always. No; welcome the tomb!

Since Jesus has lain there, I dread not its gloom." A few years since, in consequence of necessary but over-exhausting labours, I dropped suddenly and unexpectedly down, and for several weeks lay as near eternity -- so it seemed to all -- as it was possible for me to lie and return to life again. All expected that each moment might be my last, and once the report went out that I was dead. During all this period I had the most perfect possession of my intellectual faculties, and all the while I seemed to myself to be in the very precinct of heaven. Of a scene of such absolute peace, quietude, and assurance, I had never before had an apprehension. I could only repeat such words as these "Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast, There, by His love overshadowed, sweetly my soul shall rest"

Like Paul, I then had, not a fear of dying, but "a desire to depart and be with Christ;" and yet, "what I should choose I wot not," not knowing whether God had more need of me for the present on earth or in heaven. I knew well that if "the time of my departure had come," I should not be left to pass alone over the dark river, but that Christ would come to me as I approached the hither bank, would conduct me over, and then "take me to Himself." "Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." So, all fear being removed, "I am watching quietly every day; And the angel answers sweetly in my home, ’Only a few more shadows, and He will come’" My object in stating such facts is to suggest to believers in Jesus the infinite importance of the fixed habit of carrying to Christ, not only our sins and evil propensities, tendencies, and habits, which tempt to sin, but all natural weaknesses, infirmities, and timidities which disturb our peace, agitate our feelings, or weaken our efforts in the work of Christ., If we should obtain present rest in Christ, and should disregard the admonition to "cast all our cares upon the Lord," inward disturbances would at length break up that rest, and leave us again to "walk in darkness and have no light." When any occurrence induces inward agitation, we should not only resign the event to the divine will, but present the susceptibility through which the agitation is induced to Christ, asking that such a change may be produced in us, that such events shall never more have power to produce any such disturbance, and our request will be granted. A demand, for example, was once made upon me for the payment of a sum of money -- a demand which I could not meet without much embarrassment, a demand utterly fraudulent, as myself and the man setting up the claim absolutely knew. In the circumstances, however, I did not then know but that payment might be enforced. The event induced not a little internal agitation. As soon as I became conscious of the fact, and without moving from my seat, I presented this petition to "the throne of grace :" -- "Lord, a new susceptibility of my nature has been addressed now, a susceptibility of the existence of which I. was not aware before. I ask that this susceptibility shall be so sanctified that such occurrences shall never more have power to produce any inward agitation whatever." In a moment all agitation subsided, and such a change in that susceptibility was induced, that had I been compelled to meet that fraudulent demand, I should have "taken joyfully the spoiling of my goods." The answer to that prayer not only changed that susceptibility relatively to all sudden disturbing causes, but sweetened all my conscious relations to the fulness of divine grace. I have new assurance now, that not only may our wills become absolutely at one with the will of Christ, but that every other department of our nature may be so changed and sanctified that all the activities of our being shall come, with our wills, into the sweetest harmony with the sweet will of God. Outward circumstances will then have no power to induce that internal agitation and care which shall disturb or interrupt the "peace of God" in our hearts. Bear this in mind, however, that you will thus be made new, not only in respect to the action of your will, but of all other departments of your nature, but upon the condition that "God shall be inquired of by you to do this for you." The Case of Professor Finney When my associate, then Professor Finney, became aware of the great truth that by being "baptized with the Holy Ghost" we can "be filled with all the fulness of God," he of course sought that baptism with all his heart and with all his soul, and very soon obtained what he sought. After all the services of the sanctuary were passed, "my cup running over" at the time, I called upon him in his study one Sabbath evening. "O my brother!" he exclaimed as I entered, "what visions and manifestations of the glory and love of Christ have opened upon my mind today! Into what ’a large place’ have I been brought! Oh, this ’large place’! I keep repeating these words. None others seem so adequately and appropriately to represent my state." After a few words had passed between us, we kneeled in prayer. As soon as he broke silence, he burst forth into rapturous thanksgiving for "the large place" into which the Spirit of God had led him. All his utterances circled round that one expression -- ’the large place’ into which he had been led. When the Spirit of God "takes of the things of Christ, and shows them unto us," we, "beholding with open face, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord," and beginning to "know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge," one of the first impressions which the mind receives is "the breadth, and length, and depth, and height" of the vision of glory with which our souls are encircled. What an infinite and boundless range is opened for our immortal faculties to move and revel in, not only for the future of life, but for an eternity to come! What an infinite fulness for all our necessities is everywhere presented! How "complete" we are now conscious of being in Christ! In other words, into what "a large place" have we been brought!

I sometimes illustrate my apprehension of the distinction and contrast in the state of the believer before and after he has received "the anointing" by the following fact. An individual in Scotland was engaged in gathering samphire, a shrub which often grows on the sides of rocky precipices. Shakespeare says of one such man at the cliffs of Dover, "Half way down hangs one that gathers samphire." The man of whom I am speaking had descended, by a rope made fast at the top, about half way down a precipice of a perpendicular height of two or three hundred feet, and getting a standing there on a narrow rocky shelf, was employed in filling the basket at his side with one hand, while with the other he held fast to the rope. In a thoughtless moment the rope slipped from his hand, and went off entirely beyond his reach. He stood fastened to his narrow place in a state of almost total stupefaction, until, as the sun was about to set, he was roused by the cry of his wife and children on the heights above calling for their husband and father. One and only one hope remained. He must leap from the place where he stood, and seize the rope if possible. Succeeding in that single effort, he was saved; failing, he could but die. Committing his soul to God, and after balancing himself for a moment, he took the leap, grasped the rope, and ascended in safety to his agonised family. This fact I am accustomed to employ for three distinct purposes. I use it, in the first place, to illustrate the relation of the sinner seeking salvation -- his relation to "the hope set before him in the gospel," the hope upon which he is required to "lay hold." He must as completely renounce all other hopes and dependences but Christ, and as absolutely commit his whole eternity to Christ, as was true of that man in respect to the single hope of life before him when he took that leap, and grasped that rope. ’So of the believer in every stage of his Christian life. For every advance he would make, he has but one "hope set before him," and that is Christ. Everywhere his self and creature renunciation must be absolute. So of his dedication to, and trust in, Christ, "for grace to help in time of need." The last and leading purpose for which I employ this fact is to illustrate the change from darkness to light, from servitude to freedom, and from confinement to an infinite enlargement of the range of our intellectual, moral, and spiritual faculties, when Jesus "baptizes us with the Holy Ghost." When that man found himself standing in safety on the heights above the cliff where he had been so narrowly confined, when he began in perfect freedom to walk abroad over the hills and through the valleys and plains before and around him, in what "a large place" did he find himself! What a boundless range for all his activities seemed opened before him! So with the believer when he emerges from the confined sphere of the ordinary Christian life into the full light and "liberty of the sons of God." Within what a narrow sphere did his moral and spiritual faculties move! how unvitalising were all the truths he then apprehended, and how obscure and limited were his visions of the glory and love of Christ! But when he emerges out of this narrow obscurity into "the light of God," how marvellous that light appears! What a limitless range is now opened for his thoughts, emotions, and all his moral and spiritual activities! What an infinite fulness is everywhere presented for every demand of his mortal and immortal nature! All his privileges and immunities seem to be enlarged to infinity. "All things are his, and he is Christ’s, and Christ is God’s." Such is "the large place," reader, into which God, "through the Eternal Spirit," is waiting to lead you, and into which He will lead you, provided you will believe His word, trust His grace, and "with all your heart, and with all your soul," "inquire of Him to do it for you."

Effect upon the Institution The influence upon the Institution was of no less a marked character. As the theme of all preaching was "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," and Christ as "our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption," a religious influence became visibly the regulating principle not only in the college, but in the village around. We were strangers to the riotous disorders so common in other institutions, and no place where intoxicating drinks were sold existed among us. During the fifteen years in which I remained President of Oberlin College, no year passed without from one to three general revivals, some of the most powerful being in midsummer. I will add here, that during the period of from twenty to thirty years in which I presided as president over colleges, not a single year ever passed without a glorious and marked revival, and all wondered at the permanent spirituality of the converts. My solemn conviction is, that all our institutions and churches should be, and may be, as "watered gardens," ever fresh and green, and ever glorifying God by "bearing much fruit." To give more specific apprehensions of the results of which I am speaking, I would say that when my associate, Professor Finney, assumed his place as professor of theology in the Institution, he did so with the most earnest arid prayerful determination to raise up for the churches a class of holy and sanctified ministers. He consequently met his students weekly for special prayer and exhortation on this subject. In these meetings, all was done that could have been done, by admonition and agonising prayer on the part of the professor and students, to secure the results under consideration. As long as the old regime continued, however, every such meeting, without exception -- meetings held under the highest religious influences known in the churches with which we were connected -- every such meeting, I say, was closed with singing such a hymn as the following:-- O for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame, A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb.

"Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord? Where is the soul refreshing view Of Jesus and His Word?

"What peaceful hours I once enjoyed!

How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill."

_____________ "Look how we grovel here below;

Fond of these trifling toys, Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys. In vain we tune our formal songs; In vain we strive to rise;

Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies."

"Are all our best efforts and most fervent intercessions," I asked myself with the most agonising interest, "to end thus? Must ’the redeemed of the Lord return and come to Zion’ with such dirges as these?" I would never join in singing such hymns. There was one verse in one of these hymns, however, in the singing of which I could join most heartily:

Dear Lord! and shall we ever live At this poor dying rate? Our love so faint, so cold to Thee, And Thine to us so great."

"No," I exclaimed, in the secret of my own heart, "we are not doomed to such a dying life as this. ’There is light ahead,’ and ’new songs will be put in our mouths’ when that light shall come;’" and I knew that "the brightness of that rising was near." When it was known among us that "Christ had risen indeed," and "had manifested Himself" to not a few, what a change occurred in that prayer-meeting! Infirmities were confessed now "with faith to be healed;" bondage was confessed "with faith to enter into the glorious liberty of the sons of God;" testimonies were given of deliverances, of "joys unspeakable and full of glory," and of our fulness and completeness in Christ -- testimonies which must have kindled smiles upon the face of God. And when we bowed in prayer "Heaven came down our souls to greet, A glory crowned the mercy-seat" Our meetings now, as invariably as with those dirge songs before, were closed with such hymns as these:-- "Oh, could I speak the matchless worth, Oh, could I sound the glories forth That in my Saviour shine, I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings, And vie with Gabriel while he sings In notes that are divine.

"I’d sing the characters He bears, And all the forms of love He wears, Exalted on His throne. In loftiest songs of sweetest praise, I would to everlasting days Make all His glories known."

______________ "Majestic sweetness sits enthroned Upon the Saviour’s brow: His head with radiant glories crowned, His lips with grace o’erflow.

*

* * * * * * "Since from His bounty I receive Such proofs of love divine, Had I a thousand hearts to give, Lord, they should all be Thine."

____________________ "Must Jesus hear the cross alone, And all the world go free?

No! there’s a cross for every one, And there’s a cross for me.

*

* * * * * * "The consecrated cross I’ll bear, Till death shall set me free, And then go home my crown to wear; For there’s a crown for me."

______________ "Salvation! O the joyful sound!

’Tis pleasure to our ears, A sovereign balm for every wound, A cordial for our fears."

"Well," I said to myself, "this will do. ’The set time to favour Zion has come.’ Let ’the light go forth as brightness, and the salvation as a lamp that shineth.’ Blessed be God! He has ’loosened our bonds,’ and as ’His sons and daughters, we are free.’"

I will give an example or two of the testimonies to the power of Christ as a Saviour from "the bondage of corruption," examples among the many of similar interest that I might give. The subject of the first was a young man from Scotland, who was studying as a candidate for the ministry, and in all his conduct was very circumspect and conscientious. Yet he was one of the most unhappy believers I ever knew. His inner life, as we found it, was literally a continued succession of groanings. A Christian lady once said in my presence, that up to a recent period "she had just religion enough to make her as miserable as she could be." This was strictly true of this young man. He almost wearied Professor Finney and myself in his perpetual details of his inward wretchedness, and in his inquiries after deliverance. At length the light, the marvellous light of God, dawned upon "the midnight of his soul." In giving an account in the prayer-meeting of his great deliverance, he remarked that he could not better illustrate his own case than by first stating a fact of his early life. When in Scotland, he and a number of his young associates went down to the ocean to fish. "The waters were so disturbed that we could do nothing there, and we determined to go to a lake that was located at a long distance up amid the hills above us. The way was long and wearisome under the burning sun that blazed down upon us. At length we came to a moor and searched there for water. What we found was so brackish that we could not drink it, and we were all in great anguish. At length I looked down, and saw a little stream issuing from a fountain that was bubbling up right at my feet. I stooped down and tasted of those waters, and found them perfectly pure, sweet, cool, and refreshing. I drank until my thirst was quenched. So did all my associates, and we went on our way rejoicing. You know, some of you," he continued, "the bondage, and gloom, and groanings of my religious life for years," -- he having been with several of those young men in an institution in the State of New York, then at Lane Seminary, and now at Oberlin. "When in this place I was told that there was liberty in Christ for all who would believe in Him, I grasped at the truth with the earnestness of almost blank despair. As I inquired and inquired, however, without finding ’the living waters,’ I began to think that they existed for others and not for me. I did not, however, ’restrain prayer’ or cease inquiry. All at once I saw, with unutterable wonder that I had not seen it before -- all at once, I say, I saw ’the fountain of the waters of life’ rise up just at my feet. As I stooped down and drank, my agonising thirst was for ever quenched. As I continued to drink, however, the volume of those waters increased more and more, until they swelled out into a vast river, upon the surface of which my spirit was born onward and onward, until I was carried out into an ocean of light and love, an ocean the shores of which I have never been able to discern, and the depths of which I have never been able to sound. Here I have been ’comprehending the length, and breadth, and depth, and height,’ ’knowing the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge,’ and being ’filled with all the fulness of God.’ When standing upon the topmost wave of that ocean, I made a vow to God that I would spend my life in making known to saints and sinners this ’great salvation."’ That vow he fully redeemed. To the end of his very useful life his light never grew dim, but brightened more and more, until he took his departure to shine as a fixed star in the firmament of heaven. His graduating address was one of memorable interest on "the baptism of the Holy Ghost."

Another of the theological students, after be had come into the light, came to Professor Finney and remarked to him, that he thought that the time had come when there ought to be something preached to the people on the subject of faith. Professor Finney was at a loss to understand what his pupil meant, that very subject having been the leading theme of all our teachings. In a prayer-meeting not long after this, the whole matter was explained by the young man himself. When he came into the light, his views of truth and his whole internal experience were so entirely new, and so unlike anything which he had experienced before, that he most sincerely supposed that no one among us had had any such experience as his, and that nothing had been preached upon the subject to the people. "Faith, when I came to exercise it," he remarked, "was so unlike my former apprehensions of it, that I really supposed that it had not been preached to us at all. For this reason I went to Professor Finney, and, with perfect sincerity, told him that I thought that the people should be told what faith is. I had no idea but that, as soon my new experience came to be known, Professor Finney, President Mahan, and all of you, would come to me to be taught the secret of this new and divine life. To my surprise and humiliation I found at length, as I compared my own experience with yours, that I had simply emerged into the light in which you had been walking for months," "The sealing and earnest of the Spirit" is to every believer, when the baptism comes upon him, "a new white stone, which no man knoweth but him that receiveth it."

General Influence upon the Churches, and in the Experience of Individuals. A few facts will distinctly reveal the attitude of all evangelical denominations in the United States -- the Methodist excepted -- in regard to this subject, when the views of Brother Finney and myself were made known. In a council of Congregational ministers and churches, held in the city of Boston, about thirty years since, to ordain and install a young minister over one of the churches in the city, this question was put to the candidate, namely, "If you should be installed as pastor over this church, would you allow either President Mahan or Professor Finney to preach in your pulpit?" The candidate replied in the affirmative. The council spent about half a day in discussing the question whether, in view of this one fact, no other objections to the candidate existing, the services should proceed any further.

Three years ago last summer, during the sessions of the General Conference for all the Congregational churches in the United States, the Conference meeting at Oberlin, Ohio, my old associate, Brother Finney, was requested by a unanimous vote of the Conference to deliver a special discourse before them on the baptism of the Holy Ghost. At a similar Conference held in New Haven, Connecticut, the past summer, the theme of a special discourse was "the baptism of the Holy Ghost," as received at the Pentecost, as the hope of the Church.

About thirty years since, the authorities of the American Board of Commissioners of Foreign Missions, it being then the organ of the Presbyterian and Congregational Churches of the United States, dismissed from its service two able missionaries in Siam for no other reason than the fact that they had embraced these views. Now, individuals holding these views are as readily employed as any others by this same Board. Near the same period, the Presbytery of Poughkeepsie, by a special order from the Synod of New York, deposed from the ministry two of its members, Messrs Hill and Belden, for no other cause than the one fact that they had embraced the Oberlin error. While the subject was before the Synod, the Moderator of the Presbytery referred to testified that the two brethren on trial were universally regarded as the most useful and godly ministers in their body, and that if Christ should appear in any of their meetings and put the question, "Which of you shall betray me?" the last individual that any one would think of would be either of these brethren. Brother Belden, his associate having died in the faith years ago, has lived to see his name and influence "as ointment poured forth" in this Synod. Dr. Boardman recently stated to me, that when he published his work on "The Higher Life," he did so with the distinct apprehension that he should be deposed from the ministry for what he had done, he being a minister of the Presbyterian Church. An open door, however, is everywhere before him and his works and doctrines, even in that denomination. An indication of the state of Christian sentiment on this subject is quite manifest by means of the conferences like that at Oxford, which are being held in various parts of the United States, for the specific purpose of promoting personal holiness, conferences attended by ministers and members of all evangelical denominations in common. The following account of one of these conferences -- an account given in a recent number of the Pathway of Power -- will indicate the character and power of such meetings:--

"Among many instances of the special display of the power of God, was one at a recent meeting in Maine, near the borders of Canada, where a great company of Christians assembled for ten days, for purposes very similar to those of the late Oxford meeting. The railway companies reported forty thousand special tickets sold to perhaps twenty or thirty thousand individuals.

"At one of the meetings, the Rev. Dr Steele, whose papers in this periodical have excited so much interest, preached the afternoon sermon about two o’clock. The text was, ’For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, . . . that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, 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 knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God.’ He dwelt especially on the believer’s privilege of being ’filled with all the fulness of God,’ and with solemn joy told us of his own experience of the baptism of the Spirit, and of the marvellous possibilities of faith which had opened to his soul since he had realised in power that the Comforter had come: an experience beyond simple consecration and faith’s victory over sin; the incoming of the Holy Spirit filling the entire capacities of his being. At the close of this remarkable discourse, the President of the Conference rose and said, ’Our brother, Dr Steele, has something which I have not received. I know that I am all the Lord’s, but I want to be "filled with the Spirit." We have heard that God is "able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us;" I shall, therefore, now kneel here, and stay upon my knees till what God has done for my brother He also does for me. Let all who desire it do the same.’ Above four hundred kneeled, while the thousands in the congregation bowed reverently before the Lord. Then commenced a season of entirely silent prayer; which continued for three hours. As the time passed on, the place became, to the spiritual consciousness, awfully glorious. No words can describe the solemn overpowering sense of the presence of God. Any expression in prayer or singing seemed an intrusion, and persons who commenced instinctively stopped. God was Himself speaking to them in their inmost hearts. None dared break the solemn silence of soul before Him. They were now learning what the worship of the whole being to its Creator and God is. As they saw the holiness of God, they gained new views of their own sinfulness in themselves; and with this they saw with equal distinctness the full provision in Christ for all their need.

"At length the tea-bell sounded, and the immense spell bound surrounding crowd slowly and silently left the scene. Many of those who kneeled continued on in silent prayer. Throughout the vicinity, and at the tea-tables, no one seemed able to speak but in subdued tones. The time came for another meeting to be commenced, at another place, but it was found impossible to sing aloud. Nothing could be done but to dismiss the meeting, and join once more the circle of silent prayer. They approached the place softly, as to holy ground, and found a dense mass of people surrounding the spot where these ministers and others still kneeled in silent awful communion with God. Never can the sweet and solemn restfulness of that hour and spot be forgotten.

"When the time for the evening service approached, the President lifted up his hands and said solemnly to the crowd, ’Bow down before the Lord your Maker!’ Saints and sinners knelt together. Not another word was said, or hymn sung, but when we gathered in the evening meeting in the immense tent, then we knew what God had done for His people in their waiting before Him. The President said that God had given to him all that he had asked for, and many testified that the words of the prayer for the Ephesians had been answered in their own souls. That evening the conversion of over a hundred persons took place as the result of this wonderful silent meeting before the Lord.

"’Oh, that salvation were come out of Zion!’ is the cry of many a discouraged, down-hearted saint. Remember, dear child of God, that ’salvation’ in Scripture is not limited to pardon. It means also deliverance from sin. When, in this more full sense, salvation is in Zion, ’when the Lord bringeth back the captivity of His people,’ delivering them from their bondage to the world, and to partial unbelief, ’Jacob shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad.’"

I would by no means be understood as intimating that all the changes of religious sentiment above indicated resulted directly from the great baptism at Oberlin. God had for years been preparing the way in all the churches for the reception of the views under consideration, and some outside the Methodist denomination had "entered into rest," before we did. None will question the fact that the movement at Oberlin was one of the main causes of this change.

Facts of Individual Experience.

Before dismissing the topic now under consideration, I will refer to a few facts of individual experience. Dr B., a physician of a very wide practice in one of our large cities, has for quite thirty years been walking in this light. When two Christian gentlemen who had for a long period known him very intimately were once together, one of them put to the other this question, "What do you think of Dr B.?" "When that man dies," was the reply, "he will find the gate of heaven wide open before him. He will go directly in through that gate into the city, and will be at home there." All believers should thus "shine as lights in the world." How is it with you, reader? A sister in Christ, whom I knew very intimately for upwards of fifteen years prior to her death, was, when I first saw her, so far from Christ that she had merely, as she herself often said, "a name to live." She immediately sought and obtained "the sealing and earnest of the Spirit." From that time until she was called home, "her sun did not go down, neither did her moon withdraw itself." Her own family, and all who new her most intimately, testified that they never witnessed in her a single un-Christ-like act or utterance. In every circle in which she appeared her single aim was to lead sinners to Christ, or believers "out of darkness into the marvellous light of God," and she had "power with God and with man." At home she was, as a farmer’s wife, a model housekeeper, and at home and in the community her influence was "as ointment poured forth." All who knew her will testify to the strictest accuracy of the above statements. At one time her husband employed as a help in his labours a very bigoted but profane Irish Catholic, who had been taught from infancy that out of the Catholic Church salvation is impossible. His attention was soon arrested, however, by the wondrous serenity and sweetness of that woman’s spirit and conversation. At the table he would listen with the intensest interest to her conversation upon the love of Christ and the beauty of holiness. He would frequently tarry after meals to speak to the woman on the subject. As he had been listening for some time to her conversation one day, he exclaimed with deep earnestness, "Madame, you will get to heaven before you die." When the membership of the Church shall become such "shining lights" as that, then indeed "will the Gentiles come to her light, and kings to the brightness of her rising." And why, reader, should not you thus shine? As our writings spread abroad in all directions over the country, we often received letters from persons of whom we had never before heard -- letters giving an account of "the rest of faith" into which the writers had entered. In one of these letters a lady from one of the most Eastern States, after detailing the darkness in which she had walked for many years previous, and of the semi-faith which she had had in Christ, and of her prayers and searchings after "the light of life," thus spoke of the love and glory of Christ, which were at length manifested unto her : -- "It was all light," she said, "and its essence love." From that hour, as she went on to say, her vision of that light and of that love had never grown dim, and her "joy had been full." Years passed on, when I received a letter from the husband of that woman -- a letter giving an account of her subsequent life and death. From the time in which she entered into that light, her light had shined on with a mild, all-attractive, and ever-increasing lustre. In the family, in the church, and community around, all wondered at the deep and undisturbed serenity of her spirit, at the spotless purity of her conversation and example, and at her undying love to Christ and to all who bore His image, and for whom He died. Like her divine Master, she "went about doing good." All who witnessed her last sickness and death felt themselves as near heaven as it is possible for creatures in this world to be.

Another lady from another State gave an account, not only of her former Christian experience and of her entrance into "the everlasting light," but of her inner life for the five years which had transpired since the period last referred to. During these years "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, had kept her heart and mind by Christ Jesus," and that without interruption. "In no single instance," she remarked, "had she during these years closed her eyes to sleep at night without the absolute assurance that no cloud intervened between her spirit and the face of God." Years after this I received a letter from the husband of this woman also, giving an account of her subsequent life and final departure, an account of which that above given is a perfect transcript. When Brother Finney came to Oberlin, he brought with him, as their housekeeper, an individual who had been a member of his church in the city of New York. After she had been in his family about a year, he remarked to me that they should be compelled to dismiss the woman, though she was the best help they had ever had. The reason was, that her terrible temper was a constant disturbance to the peace of the family, and was exerting a ruinous influence upon their children. The least temptation would kindle her temper into a blaze, and then it was as violent, and ungovernable, and implacable as a conflagration. During the great revival she became distinctly conscious of her moral and spiritual state, and, "with all her heart and soul," sought deliverance. After she received "the anointing," she continued for several years in the place she then occupied, until she was sent as a missionary teacher among the coloured fugitives in Canada. Such was her influence in her new sphere, that the superintendent of those schools spoke of her in a letter in these words : -- "She is a host." Wishing to learn the effect of faith in Christ in such an extreme case as that, I made inquiries of Brother Finney in respect to her spirit and deportment after her "enduement of power from on high." He assured me that, from the time of the change referred to until she left, there had not been the remotest manifestation of that old temper. Her entire spirit, on the other hand, had been ineffably sweet, and neither he, his wife, or any member of their family had noticed a word or act in her which was not in the strictest conformity to Christian character. I give the testimony of Brother Finney in his own words, as nearly as I can recall them, and in no respect exaggerate that testimony. Is not "Christ able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him"?

More than thirty years since, I spent a short period in protracted labours in the city of Lowell, Massachusetts, a great revival resulting from those meetings. The leading member of the Congregational church where I preached was a man of wealth, much intelligence, and of the most unblemished moral and religious reputation; so his pastor assured me. Yet, the religious experience of this individual had taken on a pensive, and often despairing hue. Before I left, he had a long conversation with me, detailing his inward desolation, and expressing the apprehension that he had committed "the unpardonable sin." On inquiry, I found that he was conscious of no form of sin which could be the rational ground of any such apprehension. I assured him that his desire and will to seek and find Jesus was an absolute proof that salvation from doubt and darkness into "the marvellous light of God" was with absolute certainty for him. He had but one thing to do, and that was to look away from all else to Christ, to seek Christ, until he should find himself standing in "the light of God." This my friend promised to do. After I had been in Boston two or three weeks, preaching Christ there, this friend called upon me, and told me that he had come from Lowell for no other purpose but to "tell me what the Lord had done for his soul." All gloom and doubt had departed, and his "cup was running over." I found that once despondent believer in the most perfect enjoyment of "the full assurance of faith," "the full assurance of hope," and "the full assurance of understanding." What, among other considerations, gives me the most absolute assurance that the gospel, as I hold and teach it, is Christ’s rock of truth, is the fact that, under its influence, those who are in the deepest darkness emerge into the most enduring and marvellous light, that those who are in the most desponding bondage attain to the most perfect liberty, and that those who are under the heaviest burdens and sorrows find the most enduring rest. The spiritual writings of the late Professor Upham, of Bodoin College, in the State of Maine, U. S., are "known and read of all men." The manner in which he became such a fruitful writer on such a theme was on this wise. When the peculiar views advocated at Oberlin were spread before the public, he took it for granted that they were wrong, and gave them no examination. Mrs Upham, however, was induced by a lady friend, then residing in the family of the former, to give our writings a careful examination -- her husband, in the kindest manner possible, often expressing his utter incredulity in respect to the subject. Mrs. Upham at length became fully convinced, and sought and obtained "the sealing and earnest of the Spirit." The new life to which she had attained, and that in connection with the manifest divineness of the change wrought in her, soon arrested the attention of the husband, and induced him also to inquire, until he was brought fully to accept the views which the wife had embraced. It was the example of the wife, as an epistle of Christ, that rendered the husband "the man of God" and the spiritual writer which he afterwards became. When believers generally shall become such epistles, then will the prayer of our Saviour, in the following words, be fully answered : -- "I in them, and Thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that Thou has sent me, and hast loved them as Thou hast loved me." The divineness of these views is very strikingly manifest in their perfect adaptation to the conscious moral and spiritual necessities of all classes of believers in common, the most learned and the most ignorant. When I was at Oberlin, for example, there came to the place an elderly coloured woman from a state of servitude in the Southern States. Of course, she could neither read nor write; yet was at once at home with the gospel as we were teaching it; and such was the purity of her life, and the fulness of her knowledge of Christ, as her "wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption," that not a few even learned persons went to her for instruction in regard to the secret of the divine life which she was leading. A company of coloured people were once together for conversation and prayer about the higher life. The meeting became quite noisy. One young woman especially leaped, and shouted, and prayed at the top of her voice, and threw her body into almost convulsive contortions. At length an aged coloured saint came up, and laying her hand gently upon her young friend, said, "Honey, dis is not de way. Shoutin’ is not de way to obtain de blessin’ Why, honey, if you should ebber get de Lamb in your arms and de Dove in your heart, you would feel as if you were in de stable in Bedlehem, and de bressed Mudder had given you de sleepin’ Baby to hold." How divine must have been that inner life, and how deeply must a soul have been taught of the Spirit, that could give utterance to such wisdom as that! At the close of the late war in America, the Confederate States were, for a time, divided out into military districts., over each of which one of our Generals was located, that of Alabama being assigned to General Saxon. As himself and family one day were seated in the verandah of their residence, they saw an aged and infirm coloured woman walking slowly up the path before them. After ascending the steps she bowed to them, with the salutation, "How de ye?" On receiving their expressions in reply, she thus addressed them: "It ’pears dat I shan’t live but a little while, and I want to go to de meetins, it does me so much good. Yet it ’pears I habn’t any close suitable to go dare, dis ere dress being all the close I has," The dress referred to was a coarse cotton garment, which extended about half way down from her knees to her feet -- a garment furnished her when a slave. "Come in and take a seat," said Mrs Saxon, "and my daughters will prepare some dresses for you." "Oh, no," she replied, "it won’t do for me to go into dose fine rooms in dare."

While the dresses were being prepared, she said to them, with a sweet smile, "I knows you are Christians." "I sometimes hope I am," replied Mrs S., "but I have so many dark hours that I often doubt whether I am a Christian at all." "Oh, honey!" exclaimed the coloured visitant, "you habn’t gibben up de world. Dat is de difficulty. It cost me a great struggle to gib up de world." "What had she to give up?" thought Mrs S. in her own mind. Every individual, reader, has his or her world, and no one gives up that world without a struggle. "But, honey," continued the speaker, "don’t you mind dem dark hours. You look right to Jesus, and keep fast hold ob Him, and He will take all dose dark hours from you, and dey will nebber come to you any more. Oh, how lobing Jesus is!" she went on to say. "De bressed Fader said to him: Jesus, my Son, you go down into dat dark and wicked world down dare, and if you find any poor sinners dat want to be sabed, you take from dem dar sins, and den bring dem up here and lay dem in my bosom." Here she began to reel to and fro, her apprehensions of the love of Christ lying with such weight upon her mind as almost to make her stagger. At length she exclaimed, "Won’t you sing some of de sweet songs about Jesus?" "Just go into the parlour," replied Mrs S., "and one of our daughters will play upon the piano and sing for you." "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, "it won’t do for me to go in dare. But I can hear de music and singing out here." As the music and the songs proceeded, however, she kept drawing nearer and nearer, until she at last looked into the room, and finally entered and kneeled near the instrument. The glow upon her countenance and her frequent ejaculations clearly indicated that her "joy was full." When the garments were ready and were delivered to her, "Tank you, tank you! Jesus bress you!" she exclaimed. When Mrs Saxon told her that, if ever she should again be in want, to call upon them, and they would do what they could for her, "Oh, no!" she replied, "dat will nebber do. I hab got so many tings now, dat I must nebber come again for anyting more. But, honey," she said, addressing Mrs S., "don’t you mind dem dark hours. You look right to Jesus, and keep fast hold upon Him, and you will nebber more see dem dark hours." Thus she took her leave. After she had been gone a while, she was seen again coming slowly up the path and the steps of the verandah. Approaching Mrs Saxon, she said, with an ineffable sweetness of voice and manner, "Honey! don’t you mind dem dark hours. You look right to Jesus, and keep fast hold ob Him, and you will nebber, nebber again see any of dem dark hours." So she finally passed from sight.

General Saxon, in his long account of the transaction -- an account published years ago in the independent of New York -- says that himself and family felt as if they had been visited by a messenger from heaven -- a messenger sent to impart to them higher wisdom in respect to the supreme concern of the divine life than they had ever received before.

I will allude to one other case, taken from the same class as the above. Quite thirty years since, I became acquainted in the city of New York with a coloured woman, whom I never heard designated by any other name than Aunt Dinah. She was then upwards of threescore and ten years of age. Up to her fortieth year she had lived a slave, and had received no religious instruction whatever. On attaining to her freedom she came to the city designated, and was, not long afterwards, converted. As soon as she heard of the views taught at Oberlin, she sought, with all her heart and with all her soul, for "the liberty of the children of God," and entered most fully into all the light and blessedness of the higher life. As her faith, or rather unbelief, did not limit the power, love, and grace of Christ through the Spirit, her whole character and life seemed to be moulded into the divine likeness. All wondered at the beautiful simplicity, symmetry, and completeness of her whole character and life, and at the wondrous wisdom of her conversation. She had very special power in leading believers into the rest of faith, and sinners to Christ. Whenever an impenitent person came under her influence her conversation and prayers were centred in one fixed purpose -- his conversion -- and very seldom did she fail of her object. Few persons in that city were the means of the conversion of so many individuals as she. Prior to her last sickness, one young man had been with her an object of special effort and prayer, and she earnestly besought the Lord not to call her home until she could be assured of the salvation of that friend. When it was announced to her that he had been converted, she exclaimed, "I am ready now. Let the Master come when He will." What was peculiar about this woman was the fact, that her person was by no means comely, that her dress was always very plain, though neat, while her face was as black as midnight. What gave her free access to. all classes, the rich and the poor alike, was the wondrous sanctity of her character and wisdom of her discourse. Nobody repelled her.

While, for example, she was once on board a steamboat between New York and Albany, she found that the celebrated statesman, the Hon. De Wit Clinton was among the passengers. Approaching the man and addressing him, while many gathered round, she spoke to him in reverential earnestness in regard to his immortal interests, warning him of the dangers which encircled him in the midst of the pursuits of ambition, the maze of politics, and the floods of worldly cares, and closed with a solemn admonition that he should make the salvation of his soul the first and supreme object of his regard. Mr Clinton listened to her discourse with deepest attention and respect, thanked her for her concern for his eternal welfare, and for her wise admonitions. Such was the respect which her discourse commanded from all. After listening to my preaching, she uniformly met me near the pulpit-stairs, and taking me by the hand, she would say, "My son, ’be thou faithful unto death, and He shall give thee a crown of life.’ I solemnly charge you never to cease, while you live, proclaiming this full redemption." There were few persons whose blessing and admonition I more deeply valued than hers. A minister of the gospel, who had been a member of the same church with her while a student of theology in the city, told me that, on returning to the city after years of absence, on meeting his old friend, he thus addressed her: "Well, Aunt Dinah, how are you getting along?" "’ The lines,"’ she replied, "’have fallen unto me in pleasant places, and I have a goodly heritage.’ I do not know what want is. When I feel that I need anything, I look right up to my Father in heaven, who always bends His ear quite down to where I am, and says,’ Daughter, what is now thy petition? Tell me.’ I always speak directly into His ear, and tell Him just what I need, and I always get what I ask." After her death, as her pastor was passing down Broadway to make arrangements for her funeral, he was met by one of the very wealthy merchants of the city. "I understand," remarked the merchant, "that Aunt Dinah is dead. Have you made arrangements for her funeral?" "I was on that business now," replied the pastor. "I will bear the entire expense of that funeral," replied the merchant. "A grave will be prepared for her in my own family burying-place in Greenwood Cemetery. She will be buried there by the side of a very dear brother of mine. That brother had been an officer in the English army. In this city he providentially became acquainted with Aunt Dinah, and, through her influence and prayers, became a Christian, and died in the Lord. I desire that she shall stand by his side and in the midst of my family in the morning of the resurrection." She thus "made her grave with the rich in her death." It was but seldom that so large a funeral was gathered to pay public respect to departed worth as was gathered at the burial of that woman. Reader, your Christian life ought to be as hallowed as was the one above described.