Chapter VII: Tour to New England, and Public Labors

With good recommendations, and with the fruits of a not very ordinary experience for one so young, he starts for his native land. What sect does the young preacher hail from? From no sect. He hails from the church of experienced believers, whose test is religion, not theology. Love to God and peace with men are the cardinals of his platform, and such was the persuasion of his eye and presence, that his credentials are very seldom disputed. Nothing in the form of sectarianism hedges up his way or impedes his success. If difficulties at any time thicken in his path, he knows what to do with them.

Let us pause a moment to look at the theological latitudes and longitudes of the self-taught young man at this time, before he leaves to carry his message towards the regions of sunrise in the more intelligent east. In theology he has acknowledged no human master, has sat at the feet of no Edwards, Channing, or Wesley, nor read in musty dogmatical lore what he shall publish as the essential doctrine. The following views, however, may be gathered from the various utterance of his mind, expressed as occasion called, without the intention of making a system. 1. That man bears a living relation to God; that he may now as of old come to him confidingly, and seek effectually for wisdom and salvation. 2. That the being of God is One; that his influences are constantly felt in the moral world, promoting the joy and life of his people, and subjecting the sinful to the solemn conviction of their sin and danger. 3. That Regeneration is the want of all men; that _all_ may, like the prodigal of Scripture memory, return to their Sovereign Father. 4. That the Scriptures are the great storehouse of sacred wisdom; that through them the will of God is infallibly revealed. 5. That Jesus is "the sinner's friend," the Son of God, the centre of Christianity, and that his Gospel is of celestial birth and mission; "the power of God unto salvation to all that believe." 6. That experience is the basis of religion; that the only authorized test of fellowship for the church is Christian character. 7. That no sect in Christendom, as such, is _the_ church of God; that _the_ church is everywhere composed of such only as have passed from death unto life. 8. That sectarian names do not fit the catholicity of the institution; that the names "disciples," "brethren," "friends," "Christians," are the better designations. 9. That human creeds, traditions, "doctrines and commandments of men," are abolished in the light and authority of the Gospel. 10. That sons of God are freemen, owing no allegiance to Pope, Bishop, Prelate, or Council. These views all fairly reside in the writings which unfold this early period of his life; and when we consider the exceeding scarcity of liberal thought in the religious world at so early a day, and the isolation of his position from the most active and enlightened minds on the continent, his stand in the church and the world becomes a wonder, only to be solved by the recognition of the original and superior intellect that gave him intuitive insight into the right and wrong of whatever problems may have won his earnest attention. The liberality of many is but a mere scepticism of thought. His liberality was a part of the most devoted labor and unabated zeal. It was one with prayer and tears. Now, in this last day, (1854,) with all that learning and comprehensive thinking have done for us, where and what are the heights of liberality occupied by the theological reformers whose names have gone abroad as being wider than their denominational platform? As we glance along the sparse population of these plateaux, we observe among others, the names of Bushnell and Beecher, the former with certain acute philosophical powers, the latter with a bold dramatic energy of speech, each exposing himself in a degree to the censure of that large class who dread all innovation made upon the time-honored landmarks of the Fathers, who are alarmed at new roads, even though they are more direct, convenient, and comely. But neither of these gentlemen has gone so far as did this youth in the wilderness of his adopted country. Neither has altogether _practically_ forgotten the claims of sect and of creed; and the view that holiness of life and purpose is the indisputable claim to fraternity independent of dogma, which is their highest _idea_, was his constantly _practised_ principle long before the world had heard of new and old school in the contentions of orthodox sects. Open now his first letters of commendation and you will see that the fraternities that authorized them ignored sectarian names, simply styling themselves "The Church of God in this place." In liberality, I do not see that the best part of the Christian world now are, either in theory or practice, at all in advance of his position in 1813. That his peace principles did not allow him to pray for bloody victories, or to strengthen the king's arms by his influence over the people, there is pretty good evidence. He and his brethren drank too deeply at the wells of religion to engage in the destruction of their fellows.

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

"DEAR FRIEND,--I rode from Stanstead, where I had enjoyed
several good meetings, across the line into the State of
Vermont, where I had several more in Derby, Holland, and
Morgan, but soon returned to a little village on the line,
and on Stanstead Plain, where there were prospects of good
being done. It was here that I met Mr. Roswell Bates, who
became my company, as he was going to the town of
Woodstock. Leaving the line about July the 16th, we passed
through Rigah, Browning, and Wheelock, holding several
meetings at the last named town, in which the spirits of
many appeared to gather new courage and joy. I then rode to
Danville, and remained several days, in which time I had
the pleasure of seeing some who had been for months cold in
their affections, quickened and newly determined in the
cause of life. We then rode to Peacham, then to Newbury,
Bradford, and Corinth, where we separated, Mr. B. going to
Hafford and I to Strafford. Here I was greeted by a happy
band of brethren, with whom I held several meetings, and
remained several days. Crossing the Connecticut river over
into Lyme, thence through Dorchester to Hebron, thence to
Bridgewater, I arrived next morning, which was Sunday, at
New Hampton, and was kindly received by Wm. B. Kelley,
Esq., a distant relative, by whom I was politely introduced
to the clergyman of the place. With him I passed a half
hour very pleasantly; we repaired to the church together,
as the people began to assemble. I occupied with him a seat
in the desk, and listened with a degree of satisfaction to
what he communicated. When we returned to his house, he
insisted on my speaking in the afternoon, and in vain did I
urge the excuses of a long journey and much fatigue. He
gave me a Bible and a Concordance, saying that I had three
quarters of an hour in which to prepare, and left the
room. We again repaired to the church, and contrary to the
order of the morning, I was assigned the right-hand place
in the pulpit. I spoke to these strangers in the same
freedom to which I had ever been accustomed, and reserved
nothing of the divine counsel made known unto me; the word
seemed to have some direct effect; the people appeared to
hang with solicitude on the truths advanced, and many wept
under the exhibition of the love and pardoning grace of
Jesus Christ. The next day I heard a young man, Mr. John
Swett, who, much to my joy, was wholly engaged in the work
of the Lord--a work already commenced under his labors. At
the request of my friends, I gave out an appointment, at
which there were three ministers, Mr. Hillard, the aged
priest to whom I had been at first introduced, Mr. Daney,
whom I had never before seen, and Mr. Swett, my new
acquaintance. I scarcely ever found greater liberty in
speaking. Priest Hillard at the close arose and gave me his
approbation, inviting me again to call on him; others also
spoke on the goodness of God, as experienced by them.
Bidding them an affectionate farewell, I was, in about four
hours, at my native Gilmanton, whose citizens and scenes I
had not known for the space of four years.

"Here I had great joy, mingled with sorrow--joy to meet my
sister, Mrs. Cogswell, and other relatives; sorrow to learn
that in their plans of happiness, religion and
reconciliation to God were not the essential part. Capt.
C., who did not usually go to the Free Church, wished me to
permit him to make an appointment in that place, to which I
gave consent. Accordingly, on the next Lord's day, at
half-past ten o'clock, I met a large congregation at the
Free Church; and at five o'clock, P. M., spoke to a full
assembly at the house of Capt. Cogswell, each audience
being probably attracted in part by curiosity. At the
former meeting, my mind was constrained to weep over the
people, who also wept under the message I delivered them.
Many serious exhortations were given; many expressed the
fulness of their joy in Christ. Wishing to see men and
women stand upon some positive decisions in regard to their
salvation, and knowing the good influence which a public
expression of secret resolves has upon the subsequent
action of man, I proposed that such of the assembly as felt
the worth of religion, and desired to enjoy its heavenly
light and consolation, would signify the state of their
minds by rising up. Very few kept their seats; and I have
reason to think that many were strengthened for life. Many
invitations were given me for new appointments. At 5
o'clock at Capt. C.'s, there were many Calvinists present,
who with the rest, seemed to mingle with their critical
aspect considerable true religious feeling. Perhaps my
preaching called out more criticism than it would otherwise
have done, on account of my manner being wholly
extemporaneous, and my sentiments not being formed from
Calvin or any sectarian creed. My grandmother[15] was
present; she seemed much pleased, and after meeting said to
me, 'It is a wonder and a mystery to me how you talk as you
do without having any of it written. Two of my family have
got to be preachers, William C. and yourself. He learned to
preach at the institution, but who in the world ever
learned you up there in Canada?' I believe I told her that
the Being who needed ministers had much to do in making
them, which seemed to be a new idea in these parts.

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

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

"Yours, in the truth,
J. BADGER.
"Sept., 1814."

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

"After attending several meetings in Gilmanton, I went on
to my appointment at Newhampton, and met a very large
congregation who had come out to hear the new preacher. The
people thinking me a missionary direct from college,
readily swallowed the doctrine of a free, universal
salvation, designed for and offered unto all men, and many
rejoiced in the liberal view I presented. I felt at this
time, very much the weight of the cause, and spoke with
great freedom on the true mission of the Gospel to our lost
world. It may be thought by some that courtesy should have
dictated an acquiescence in the formality and doctrine that
reigned about me. But I felt constrained to speak from my
own soul and the word that burned in my own heart. I did
so. Many of the silent kindled anew with ardor, their
tongues were unloosed, and some praised God aloud. In the
afternoon I had a glorious time, concluding my sermon with
the most earnest warning to the people. This change in
their accustomed routine for Sunday called out many
remarks, some saying one thing and some another. One said,
'He preaches just like a damned Freewiller, and if Mr.
Hillard lets him preach there again, I will neither hear
nor pay _him_ in future.' Nevertheless, I had several
invitations to preach again. In the evening I spoke at Mr.
Kelley's, to about 200 hearers, on Monday, P. M., at Lieut.
Sinkter's school-house, to an audience of entire strangers.
In that vicinity were many Freewill Baptists, few of whom,
however, saw fit to attend. Priest Hillard's deacon came to
me at the close of meeting, with considerable emotion, and
said, 'I know the joyful sound of which you have spoken. I
am satisfied God has called you to preach the Gospel. I
want you to preach at my house this evening,' and
accordingly gave out the appointment. There are always some
discerning spirits among the people, who, sooner than
others, look into the nature and meaning of things. One of
the Freewill members, a lady, remarked when she got home on
the character of the meeting, saying, 'The deacon will get
joked this time with his missionary or I am deceived.' At
evening the house was crowded, the Freewill brotherhood
having waked up to an interest in what was occurring. At
the time I did not know as there was one anti-Calvinistic
mind in the house, but resolved, as a dying man, to do my
duty without shrinking. I arose to speak from Mal. 4: 2:
'Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness
arise with healing in his wings,' and felt, as I
progressed, the love of God in my soul. Many of the young
people wept aloud, the Freewill brethren began to assist,
and before the meeting broke up the power of God was so
strikingly displayed that the deacon, unexpectedly to all,
fell prostrate on the floor. A haughty young woman, whose
hair was wrought into a profusion of curls, came forward
and kneeled down, bathing her curls with tears as she cried
for mercy. The argument on this occasion, though no
doctrine was discussed, was one that the deacon was unable
to resist, for he fell as many as five times under the
power of God. The house seemed filled with divine glory.
The congregation broke up about one o'clock at night. The
next day I went from house to house praying and conversing
with the people. I found that many were seeking Christ, and
that a thoughtful solemnity was resting even on the minds
of children.

"The next evening our meeting was no less powerful. Not
less than twice did the deacon fall to the floor; one man
who had fallen away from the Christian profession, lay for
some time speechless, and the young lady spoken of before,
came out bright and clear in the expression of her change.
She then walked through the assembly, taking her mates by
the hand, and warning and inviting them to flee to Christ,
made a deep impression on the assembly. One other made
profession of being translated from the kingdom of darkness
to the kingdom of light. In this state of affairs I left
Newhampton to attend other appointments, which required
some eight or nine days, and from the good attention paid
to the word and its effect on the people, I began to think
that my mission to New England was not in vain."

Passages like these will doubtless meet with a variety of tastes, and be subjected to different constructions. The effects of a great immediate power that followed the preaching of Abbot, Whitfield, and others, seeming for a time to irresistibly sway the subject, has been variously explained, or, perhaps, more properly, has never been explained to the full satisfaction of the thoughtful. There is something certainly in the nature of the _theme_; for who was ever struck speechless and nerveless by a political appeal, or a literary, philosophical, or financial address? To make the least of it, these phenomena show a wild, mighty vigor in the darkly oppressed religious element within, or the same amount of zeal on finance or the election of candidates would produce equal results. Whether the Holy Ghost be present or absent, the man whose word and personal presence palsies a beastly sinner or formal deacon, so that he can neither move nor speak, is himself no weak formalist; no wavering, half-and-half man, who lives on plausibility and apology. This much is certain, that he carries a conquering force, if the effect be _of him_; if not of him, if he is right in the declaration "not unto us" be the glory, a similar conclusion follows the admission of his instrumentality. We love harmony; and in the great harmony that the soul should enjoy genuine thunder will prove no essential discord. We enjoy quietness; but of the two, we say by all means give us the preaching that knocks men off their seats, to that which never moves them. But how comes on Newhampton?

"I continued my visits to Newhampton for the space of three
months. Some twenty of the youth were hopefully converted;
I think I never saw converts of greater strength. But oh!
what trials awaited some of this number! The first that
came forward in this reformation had much persuasion to
resist. Her father was an open enemy to religion, her
mother was very pious, but wholly bound up in Calvinism,
and the young woman was determined to be free and not be
entangled with any yoke of bondage. A number of times was
she threatened to be turned out of doors. She wished
baptism; but being unordained I could not administer; and,
as she was unable to join Mr. H.'s church, out of
preference to the church of the first-born, she had to go
against the current, which is never a _bad_ sign, as dead
fish invariably move along with the stream. Many wished to
be baptized, and Mr. H., thinking it a good opportunity to
gather additions to himself, began to raise all his forces
against me, spreading defamatory reports to sour the minds
of the people, intending to drive me out of the place. I
was reminded of the stanza:

'They hate the Gospel preacher,
And cry out, a _false_ teacher!
A wolf! an active creature,
Will pull our churches down.'

He found fault on several points of doctrine. We held
together several conferences, public and private. He indeed
stirred up the devout women and all his party to
opposition, and not a little to my grief we had to
say--Farewell to the reformation. He proselyted five young
converts, whose happy condition, I fear, became like that
of the fish which glide pleasantly down the river Jordan
into the Dead Sea, which is called immediate death; for
they soon grew formal and lifeless in the atmosphere of the
church. 'How is the fine gold become dim!' But what of our
deacon? you will say. Why this, that after falling beneath
the power of God so many times, after giving me a letter of
commendation extolling my character, and the power and
usefulness of my ministry, after I had labored night and
day, and God had visited his family in the conversion of
three of his children, _he_ 'lifted up his heel against
me.' In whom then shall the Gospel minister trust? In God,
and in Truth. At this declension I sorrowed with a bleeding
heart. You can judge of my feelings. I gave out an
appointment, administered as good advice as I knew how to
the converts, preached on Sunday, took a letter of
commendation signed by Elder Heart,[16] in behalf of the
church, and bade them adieu. December 2, 1814."

It would seem that young Mr. Badger was not exactly a safe hand to trust with the direction of church machinery, where doctrine, devotion and preaching were respectably stereotyped, where all things were smoothly continued. His steam and individuality were rather hazardous elements in the temple of forms. "Priest Log" had been a safer priest.

He also narrates his success in Gilmanton, where several young persons and some of his own relations "bowed to the mild sceptre of mercy." His cousin, who came out in this revival, he says was the first of his relatives with whom he had felt a union in the Gospel, that as he had been educated under the theology of Calvin, he was besieged with entreaty to join them. "But," says Mr. B., "he still walks in Gospel liberty; I pray that he may be preserved blameless, and prove a thorn to the clergy whilst he lives." He compares the policy of his opponents towards his cousin to the barbarian usage of slaying prisoners when the prospect of being overcome grows certain. Extracts of other letters here follow.

"After I left Newhampton, December 2, I went to Meredith,
and attended the ordination of Mr. John Swett.

Here I find a page erased, but as it is legible and very characteristic, I venture to transcribe.

"Here I was introduced by some of the brethren present for
ordination. The ministers with whom I was acquainted seemed
willing to ordain me, provided I would 'consent to walk on
two legs,' taking the church of God for the one and the
Freewill society for the other. This statement,
substantially, was from Rev. E. Knowlton, of Pittsfield.
This saying of Solomon immediately came to my mind, 'The
legs of the lame are not equal;'[17] and considering the
Freewill society as inadequate to the church of God, I
concluded that, carrying out the figure, one had better go
through the world hopping than limping, and I asked wherein
one could be the loser, provided he went as fast on one
limb as others did on two. I said to them, that if I could
not have their approbation on the ground that I belonged to
the church of God, without the addition of their wooden
staff, I would much prefer to stand alone. They accused me
of being on the common. I answered that I was born there;
that I much preferred it to a barren pasture, or a pit
wherein is no water; that I meant, through divine grace, to
stand where I had received the Lord Jesus, and that if the
church of God, unsectarianized, is the common, I would be
content with it till the arrival of the time when there
shall be 'one fold and one shepherd.'

"Here I had to stand alone, whilst my heart bled to see the
superstition and bigotry of those who profess to be free;
and, I say it reluctantly and with sorrow, I have seen as
much bondage, and have met as bad treatment from those who
claim to be Freewillers, as ever I did from the more
stiff-necked and stoical of the sects. To have the clearest
proofs of belonging to the body of Christ, of having the
sanction of Him who calls men to his ministry, and to have
undisputed standing among good men is not enough. Party
must be worshipped. This more and more convinces me that it
is well to abandon the doctrines of men and all
unscriptural names, to be disciples not only in name but in
practice. I am also sorry to say that I have discovered the
same spirit among those who are called Christians. But I
will leave this subject, praying that God will help us so
to run that we may obtain."

Rather difficult, was it not, to get this young man into a net? He stands yet erect upon his mission, prays, weeps, preaches by night and by day; and old men and young, mothers and maidens, acknowledge his right to lead them in the "new and the living way" by falling into his line of march, and finding words of life in his speech. This refusal to pledge himself to creed and sect, grew out of nothing unsocial, for his whole being was social and brotherly. Interest could not so have dictated. An innate greatness of mind it was that gave him this high position for a young man as early as 1814, aided no doubt by the free and generous impulses of the religion of Jesus, which, in his experience and in his Testament, alike declared the oneness of the body of Christ, and of whatever is essential and saving. This position seems not to have hindered him; the faithful still rally under the banner he bears. Mr. Badger was a man of great facility for carrying his points, having a persuasive eye, will, and speech; nor is it at all surprising that among his early commendatory letters, there should be some from clergymen of different denominations; one I remember signed by three _class leaders_, in the Province of Canada, and others from those who had obeyed his call to the new life, and to whom he became as an apostle and father.

At Gilmanton, Barnstead, Stratham, Portsmouth, Rye, Northampton, he held forth in the name of the victorious Christ; and though there is no record of dogmatic speculation and "disputations of science," the fires of reformation were kindled, the young convert and the steadfast believer rejoiced together, bringing forward their golden treasures, not from the cold chambers of the intellect, but from the mines of the soul, as wrought by experience and refined by the agencies of the Holy Spirit. One more touching paragraph from this letter, we cannot withhold. Those who recollect the calmness and the pensive music of the pine-grove, its unison with the deeper feelings, will vividly realize the passage which refers to the lonely and dependent spirit which there sought relief in prayerful utterance.

"How many trials I have passed through during these four
months! I well remember the sad feelings of my heart as I
was riding from Rye to Portsmouth, across a pine plain,
whilst I meditated on my mission and present lot in the
world. Leaving my horse, I retired into this still grove,
where none but the heavenly powers could hear the
expression of my burdened soul. As I considered my
situation, a feeble youth, hundreds of miles from home,
among entire strangers, and bound by solemn duty to the
world of dying sinners, I was constrained to weep before my
God in this wilderness. Here I sought his aid. How oft, on
that journey, did I weep for miles, as I rode the streets.
Angels! ye are witnesses to the sleepless nights that
passed away as I thought of the unreconciled state of
mankind, and of my duty to them. Here, my loving friend,
you have a brief account of what I have seen the last four
months. I have reason to praise my Redeemer. Like Mr. Dow,
I can say, 'What I have seen I know, what is to come I know
not.' O my friend, strive to make a good improvement of
these memories, and if we never meet again in time, may the
Lord prepare us to meet in His kingdom of glory. Yours in
the Truth, as it is in God's dear Son,

"Jan., 1815.
JOSEPH BADGER."

Rightly did the poet say,--

"Who never ate his bread in sorrow,
Who never spent the darksome hours,
Weeping and watching for the morrow;
He knows ye not, ye heavenly Powers."

The prophet, in all ages, to whom God gives the tongue of flame, must at some time have known the holy baptism of inward sorrow.