_________________________________________________________________

           Title: The Life of John Wesley Redfield
      Creator(s): Terrill, J.G.
   CCEL Subjects: All; Biotarget=redfield_jw; Biography;
      LC Call no: BX8495 .R35
   LC Subjects:

   Christian Denominations

   Protestantism

   Post-Reformation

   Other Protestant denominations

   Methodism
     _________________________________________________________________

   John Wesley Redfield

   THE LIFE

   —— OF ——

   JOHN WESLEY REDFIELD M. D.

   —— By ——

   Rev. Joseph Goodwin Terrill
     _________________________________________________________________

   “WHOSE FAITH FOLLOW.”
     _________________________________________________________________

   CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

   FREE METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE 
     _________________________________________________________________

   COPYRIGHT BY

   ———— REV. J. G. TERRILL, ————

   MAY, 1889.
     _________________________________________________________________

   Manufactured by
   W. B. Conkey Co.
   CHICAGO.
     _________________________________________________________________

CONTENTS

   Author’s Dedication

   Introduction By Rev. B. T. Roberts

   Author’s Introduction

CHAPTER 1

   Birth — Early Impressions of Being Called to Preach — Conversion — First
   Religious Labors

CHAPTER 2

   Fighting against God — Running from Duty — Strange Experiences

CHAPTER 3

   Settling the Controversy — A Long and Hard Struggle — The Victory Gained

CHAPTER 4

   Starting Out to Preach — First Field of Labor — Successful Efforts —
   Incidents, etc.

CHAPTER 5

   The Old Struggle Renewed — Call to Preach Confirmed — Determined Rebellion
   — Off the Track

CHAPTER 6

   Acting Jonah’s Part — Turns Infidel — Studying Anatomy — Investigates
   Natural, Mental, and Moral Science — Escape from Atheism — A Presumptuous
   Marriage Engagement

CHAPTER 7

   Reaping as He Sowed — Bitter Consequences of His Presumptuous Marriage — His
   Own Story

CHAPTER 8

   Respite from Trouble — Dawn of Better Days — His Own Story Concluded —
   Respite from Domestic Difficulty — Followed by Sad Bereavements

CHAPTER 9

   In Lockport, N.Y. — Keeping Bachelor’s Hall — A Strange Impression — Avows
   Abolition Principles — Licensed to Preach — Goes to Cleveland, Ohio

CHAPTER 10

   A Winter in Cleveland — Lectures against Slavery — Forms the First
   Anti-Slavery Society — Story of a Fugitive Slave

CHAPTER 11

   Returns to Lockport — Seeks Entire Sanctification — Erroneous Seeking —
   House to House Visitation Incidents — Revival Work

CHAPTER 12

   Serious Illness — A Winter in New York City — Wasting with Consumption —
   Healed on Consenting to Take Up the Work of the Ministry — Preaching in New
   York — The Great Night — A Striking Coincidence

CHAPTER 13

   Great Revival in New York — Wonderful Manifestations of Divine Power —
   Assaults of Temptation — Seeking Holiness Again

CHAPTER 14

   Still Seeking Entire Sanctification — Encouraged by a Father in Israel —
   Hears of Dr. and Mrs. Palmer — Prejudiced against Them by Evil Testimony —
   Goes to Camp Meeting — Seeking Amiss — Attends Another Camp Meeting — Meets
   the Palmers — Mrs. Palmer Shows Him the Way of God More Perfectly —
   Endeavoring to Enter Beulah — Yielding All — Taught of the Spirit — Tempted
   — Triumphs by Faith — Jumps the Chasm — Sanctified Wholly — Abiding Joy

CHAPTER 15

   Mr. Redfield’s Pastor — Mr. Redfield as a Class Leader — Appoints Holiness
   Meetings — A Hundred Persons Sanctified — Many Sinners Converted — Church
   Membership Greatly Increased — Two New Churches Formed — Opposition to the
   Holiness Movement — Mr. Redfield’s Determination — Severe Tests — Victory
   Gained — Invited to Labor in Another Church — Accepts the Call — Successful
   Labors

CHAPTER 16

   Change of Pastors — Mr. Redfield Still Engaged in Revival Work — Charged
   with Heresy by the New Pastor — Vindicates Himself — License to Preach
   Renewed — Opposition to the Holiness Teaching of Mr. Redfield and Others
   Continued — Bishop Hamline — A Defender and Promoter of the Holiness Work
   — Becomes Mr. Redfield’s Confidential Adviser, etc.

CHAPTER 17

   Urged to Unite with the Conference — Considering the Matter — Reasons Which
   Determined Him Against It — Becomes an Evangelist — Contemporary with
   Caughey, Finney, Burchard and Knapp — Twenty Miles Above New York —
   Successful Labors — A New Church — The Dedication — A Convert’s Exhortation
   — Good Results

CHAPTER 18

   Laboring in a Mission Church in the Suburbs of New York — Method with
   Proselytizers — A Powerful Revival — Incidents — The Mission Church Made
   Self-sustaining — Proselytizing Ministers Dismissed from Their Pastorate —
   The Sequel — Mr. Redfield’s Reflections Concerning Opposition to the
   Thorough Work of God — More Incidents — Achans Discovered and Disposed of
   Strange Experience of a Colored Woman

CHAPTER 19

   Goes from New York to a Neighboring City — His Way to Success in One Church
   Blocked — Goes to Another Church — Great Success Attending His Labors —
   Hopes for a General Revival of the Doctrine and Experience of Holiness —
   Disappointed by Hostility Among Ministers — Encouraged by a Bishop —
   Opposition to His Revival Labors Continues — Open Doors in Mortgaged
   Churches and among Demoralized Societies — Cause of the Opposition to
   Holiness Discovered — Laboring in the Church of a Sick Pastor — Opposed and
   Slandered by the Sick Man — Mr. Redfield’s Prediction Concerning Him — The
   Prophecy Speedily Fulfilled — A Class Leader Sanctified — Turns Exhorter and
   Addresses the Employees in a Factory — The Class Leader Shouting — Mr.
   Redfield Called For by an Excited Church Member — Joins the Class Leader in
   Praising God — Visits a Lady Dying of Consumption — She is Saved and Healed
   at the Same Time — Instances Illustrating Victory Over Death

CHAPTER 20

   A Summer on Long Island — Preaching in the Villages on Sundays — Personal
   Experiences — Called to Occupy a Vacant Pulpit until the Time for Beginning
   His Revival Work — Condition of the Charge — Beginning His Labors — Visiting
   One of the Principals in an Old Church Quarrel — Visits an Old-time
   Methodist — His First Sabbath on the New Charge — Efforts with Sinner —
   Repulsed — The Second Sabbath — Sharply Criticized — A Week of Desperate
   Struggling for Victory — The Third Sabbath — Victory and How It Came — Goes
   on Invitation of Methodist, — Baptist, and Presbyterian Ministers to Labor
   in Another Place — His Method of Work — Strong and Persistent Opposition —
   Baptist and Presbyterian Ministers Start Separate Services — Opposition
   Overcome — Glorious Results of Fidelity to God — Preaching Holiness
   Conducive to the Awakening and Conversion of Sinners — A Tea Party Turned
   into a Revival

CHAPTER 21

   Leading a Brother Minister into the Experience of Perfect Love — An
   Illustration of His Method with Seekers — Invited to Labor on the
   Minister’s Charge — How to Get Ready for a Revival — The Sanctified Minister
   Preaching Holiness — Many Sanctified — Mr. Redfield Goes to His Aid —
   Conversation with the Pastor — Revival Efforts Begin — Visitation — An
   Infidel and His Wife Converted — The Whole Town Awakened — Many Converted
   — Nearly all Testify that Their Convictions — Dated from the time the Pastor
   Began to Preach Holiness — Mr. R_____ goes to Labor in Another City —
   Proselytizing Ministers Oppose His Work — Wicked Persecution from a
   Universalist Preacher — The Persecuting Preacher’s Death from Delirium
   Tremens

CHAPTER 22

   Overworked — Severe and Protracted Illness — Going Home to Die — His
   Sickness Not unto Death, but for the Glory of God — His Own Account of This
   Experience — A Remarkable Vision — Tells of the Triumphant Death of Two
   Sisters — Recovering From His Illness — Preaches in New York City — Dines at
   Dr. Palmer’s — Relates an Account of the Vision He Had During His Sickness
   — Mrs. Palmer’s Opinion of Such Experiences — Deathbed Incidents Related

CHAPTER 23

   Entering the Evangelistic Field Again — Hope for the Church Revived —
   Invited to Labor on the Charge of a Brother Minister Where a Revival Was in
   Progress — The Revival Stopped — Leaving the Place Under Divine Direction
   — Cause of the Work Ceasing — Visitations of Judgment — Goes to Another and
   a Peculiar Field — Incidents in Visitation — Method of Work — A Minister’s
   Opposition and Discourtesy — Favorable Results — Attending a Camp Meeting
   — Counseled by Worldly-wise Preachers — Adopts their Counsel — Shorn of
   Strength — Plain Dealing by a Godly Colored Man — Power Restored — The
   Lesson Learned — Another Field — A Clergyman Invested with Authority to Use
   the Rod Attempts to Intimidate the Young People, and so Deter Them from
   Attending Mr. Redfield’s Meetings — Opposition Overruled for Good — Visits
   the Charge of One of the Ministers — Who Counseled Him at the Camp Meeting
   — State of the Work — Mr. Redfield’s Exercises — Leaves the Place under an
   Impression that God Had Withdrawn from His People

CHAPTER 24

   Called to Middletown, Conn. — Dreading the Conflict — State of the Work and
   Character of Mr. Redfield’s Labors — Described by Superintendent Roberts —
   The Work Endorsed and Aided by President Olin — Three Hundred Students
   Converted at the Church — They Form Praying Bands and — Carry on the Work in
   the College — President Olin Undertakes to Give a Ten Minutes’ Address to
   the Students — The Minutes Run into Hours — The Address Published as One of
   Dr. Olin’s — Most Masterly Intellectual Productions — Four Hundred
   Conversions in All — Twenty-six of the College Students Become Ministers —
   William C. Kendall Here Learns the Art of Soul-Saving — Mr. Redfield spends
   a Sabbath in New Jersey and Preaches for an Absent Pastor — Goes to Labor in
   Another Church in the Same State — Effects of His Preaching — Embarrassed by
   Questions Concerning His Domestic Trouble — Requests an Interview with Two
   — residing Elders — Counseled to Get a Divorce — The Divorce Obtained

CHAPTER 25

   Mr. Redfield’s Pastor Opposing Him — A Faithful Presiding Elder Takes His
   Part — Character of Those Who Opposed the Holiness Work — Features of the
   Holiness Revivals — Laboring to Maintain Himself and Preach the Gospel
   without Charge — Invited to Assist Caleb Lippincott — Opposition from
   Universalists — Slandered by Their Paper — Defends Himself — The Tide Turns
   — Returns to New York City — Successful Labors — A Prosperous Revival Killed
   by an Untimely Marriage Ceremony — Labors in Another of the City Churches
   — Five Hundred Added to the Church — Encouragements — Peck’s “Central Idea
   of Christianity” — The Men Enlisted in the Holiness Controversy — Mr.
   Redfield Goes to Philadelphia — Laboring in St. George’s M. E. Church — The
   Pastor Enters Heartily into the Work — Another Minister Opposes — The Truth
   Triumphant — Invited to Another Church to Preach on Holiness — A Great Work
   — Wonderful Scenes — Meetings Abruptly Closed by the Frightened Pastor —
   Preaches in Two Other Churches — Meetings in Private Houses — A Glorious
   Work — Visits Many Places Briefly — Many Saved

CHAPTER 26

   Mr. Redfield Visits Long Island Again — Revivals Break Out in Various Places
   — Visits the Former Home of Freeborn Garrettson — Meets Mr. Garrettson’s
   Widow — A Token of Friendship — Fifty Saved — Revival in C_____ — In the
   Suburbs of New York Again — Leaves After a Comparatively Barren Season of
   Labor — Peculiar Leadings toward Cincinnati — Goes to Goshen — Opposition
   from the Leading Church, the Secular Press, Rumsellers, and Infidels —
   Opposition Checked by the Interposition of Providence — Proselytizing
   Efforts and How Mr. Redfield Dealt with Them — Incidents — Holiness Tested
   — Triumph in Suffering and Death — Mr. Redfield Proceeds to Another Field
   — Dealing with Rowdies — One Hundred Conversions — Visits Long Island Again
   — Disturbed by Rowdies — Demands and Secures Order — Disturbers Converted
   — Holiness Meetings — Many Saved

CHAPTER 27

   At Chelsea, Mass. — Waited Upon by a Committee — Unitarians and
   Universalists Offended — The Methodist Church Rid of a Unitarian and a
   Universalist Class Leader — The Work Progressing in the Face of Strong
   Opposition — One Hundred Converted — Goes to Boston — An Embarrassed Pastor
   — No Opening in Boston — Returns to Chelsea — Invited Back to Boston — Small
   Beginning — Enlargement and Success — Strong Endorsement — Invited by the
   Clergy to Spend a Year in Boston — Engagement calls Him Away to U_____ —
   Great Interest Awakened — Many Conversions — Proselytizers and How They
   Worked — A Local Preacher Who preached Regularly in His Sleep

CHAPTER 28

   Goes to Newburgh — Preaches the Truths of Early Methodism — Episcopalians
   Shout Over the New Found Joy of Holiness, While Methodists Get Angry and
   Oppose the Work — Newburgh Camp Meeting — Mr. Redfield’s Labors Crowned with
   Wonderful Success — One hundred Converted in a Single Night — Incidents
   Illustrating Mr. Redfield’s Method with Seekers

CHAPTER 29

   Visiting a Village Near Newburgh — The Sabbath Services Conducted by the
   Pastor — Mr. Redfield Exhorts in the Evening Service — An Influential
   Citizen Reproves the Pastor — Mr. Redfield’s Reflections and Discouragements
   — Rev. Fay H. Purdy — A Man after Mr. Redfield’s Own Heart — A Camp Meeting
   Incident — War Against Holiness — The Sad Results Described — Mr. Redfield
   at Peekskill — Successful Labors

CHAPTER 30

   At the Marine Hospital in New York — Method with the Sailors — Favorable
   Results — The Lesson Learned — Invited by the Chaplain to Visit Sing Sing
   State Prison — His Own Account of His Labors in the Prison — Incidents of
   Prison Visitation — Obtaining Pardon for a Prisoner — Holds a Series of
   Meetings at Sing Sing — Opposition — Victory — Many Saved

CHAPTER 31

   At Bridgeport, Conn. — A Church in Debt Twelve Thousand Dollars for Pride
   — Desire a Revival to Help Them Out of Debt — Faithful Work -

   A Frightened Pastor — Fay H. Purdy Assists in the Meetings — Mr. Redfield
   Accused of Bigotry by Pastors of Other Churches — Meets the Accusation
   Wisely — Proselytizing Cured — Five Hundred Converted — Mr. Redfield
   Requested to Receive the Converts into the Church — Address to the
   Candidates — Receives One Hundred — Four Hundred More Soon Unite — The Debt
   Paid — Another Church Built — Plain Dealing Makes Good Methodists — Anecdote
   of Bishop Hedding

CHAPTER 32

   Invited to New Haven — Great Spiritual Conflict -Deciding to Go — His
   Reception and Introduction — Defines His Purpose in Plain Terms — Begins His
   Work — Frightened Methodists — Waited Upon by a Sensitive Class Leader —
   Encouraged by an Ex-Mayor — Endorsed by a Lawyer — The Pastor’s Fears
   Allayed — A Mocking Rabble — Preaching Wholly to the Church — The Official
   Board Requests Him to Change His Course and Labor for Sinners — The Reply
   — Mr. Redfield’s Manner of Convincing the Critics — Meetings Appointed for
   Seekers of Holiness — Believers Sanctified — The Revival Breaks Out in Power
   — Hundreds Converted — The Work Spreads into Other Churches — One of them
   Receives Four Hundred Accessions — The Revival Reaches the College — Many
   Students Converted — Fruits of the Revival — Fifteen Hundred Converted

CHAPTER 33

   Invited to Stamford, Conn. — A Conversation with the Pastor — Beginning His
   Work — The Pastor Criticizes and Objects to His Method — Allowed to Go on in
   His Own Way — Testimonies Endorsing the Work — A Doctor Offended — Advising
   that Mr. Redfield Be Shut Up — The Work Goes on in Power

CHAPTER 34

   Attending a Camp Meeting — Remarkable Illustration of the Power of Grace to
   Save — Experience of an Indian Preacher — Story Related by the Son of an
   Indian Chief — Mr. Redfield Attends Another Camp Meeting — Meets the
   Converted Son of a Jewish Rabbi — Story of the Converted Jew — Method with a
   Man in Despair Over the Doctrine of Election — A Holiness Meeting in a
   Private House — Strange Conduct of a Gentleman Boarder — A Man Forsaken of
   God

CHAPTER 35

   Invited to Return to Stamford — Condition of Methodism in That Vicinity —
   Meetings Forced to a Close — The African M. E. Church Opened — A Glorious
   Work — Returns for One Service to the Closed Church — A Young Preacher Seeks
   Holiness — Invites Mr. Redfield to Visit His Charge Five Miles Away — A
   Conversation Between Them — The Invitation Accepted — The First Service —
   The Young Preacher Seeking Holiness — A Time of Wonderful Power — Skeptics
   Awakened — Glorious Times — Mr. Redfield Goes to a Small Village to Help a
   Conference Preacher — Bad Condition of Affairs — A Short Stay — Attending a
   Camp Meeting in Central New York — Opposition to Holiness — A Sermon Against
   the Wesleyan Doctrine Introduces Much Confusion — A Speech from Rev. Hiram
   Mattison — Sanctified by Progression — Brother Purdy Endeavors to Calm the
   Storm — Purdy’s Test and How it was Received — Mr. Redfield’s Reflections
   — Seeking Greater Power to Fit Him for the Work to Be Done

CHAPTER 36

   A Visit to Syracuse, N.Y. — Reappearance of His Old Sign — This Regarded As
   a Sure Token of a Gracious Revival — Returns to New York — Soon Recalled to
   Syracuse — Experiences a Singular Manifestation on the Way — Meetings at
   Salina — State of the Work — Strange Phenomena — Mr. Redfield Study of These
   Exercises and His Method of Dealing with Them — His Advice Concerning Them
   — Reflections

CHAPTER 37

   Labors at Salina Continued — Preaching Holiness — Discovers That the People
   Are Not Ready for That Experience — Preaches on Justification — Finds That
   He Has Made a Mistake Again — Begins to Preach the First Principles of the
   Kingdom of God — Burdened for Souls — Demonstrations — The Curious
   Investigating the Strange Phenomena, and Endeavoring to Account for Them —
   Attempting to Imitate the Demonstrations — Experience of a Unitarian Lady
   — Mr. Redfield’s Thorough Dealing — Conversation with a Unitarian Minister
   — The Unitarian Minister Publicly Endorsing the Meetings — Mr. Redfield
   Exposes His Infidelity — Results of the Salina Revival

CHAPTER 38

   Requesting the Privilege of Holding Meetings in the Church of a Methodist
   Pastor in Syracuse — The Denial — A Call From Palmyra — Incidents on the Way
   — Stops at the Residence of Fay H. Purdy on Reaching Palmyra — Purdy’s
   Account of the State of the Work — Mr. Redfield at His Boarding Place —
   Meets Brother B_____ — Brother B_____’s Devotions — Mr. Redfield goes to
   Morning Service to Hear the Pastor Preach — Hears a Commotion in the
   Basement of the Church — “Awful Times” — The Pastor Tried Over Brother
   B_____’s Exercises — A Conversation with the Pastor — Mr. Redfield Goes with
   Him to Dinner — Further Conversation about Brother B____’s Exercises — The
   Pastor Agrees to Stand by Brother B_____ — Endorses Him at the Evening
   Services — Greatly Blessed — Loses His Strength — War Begins in the Church
   — Attendance Increases — The Work goes on in Power — Thirty Converted in One
   Meeting — Five Hundred Conversions in a Few Weeks — Other Fruits of the
   Revival —

CHAPTER 39

   A Call from a Congregational Church in Syracuse — The Call Accepted — Visits
   Two of the Deacons — Conversation with the Deacons — Beginning the Work — A
   Deacon’s Protest — Mr. Redfield’s Answer — The Congregation Vote to approve
   Mr. Redfield’s Measures — The Deacon Renews his Opposition — The
   Congregation Again Sustain Mr. Redfield — The Work Goes On — The Deacon
   Makes a Startling Confession — Two Presbyterian Elders Prostrated by the
   Power — A Young Lady’s Confession — Remarkable Conversion of a Unitarian
   Lady — The Unitarians Alarmed — They Send for Theodore Parker — His Stay Cut
   Short by a Storm Which Greatly Damaged the Unitarian Church — Fruit
   Remaining in After Years

CHAPTER 40

   Invited to Albion, N.Y., by Rev. Wm. C. Kendall — Well Received at First —
   Marked Manifestations of God’s Power — Prostrations — Commotion in the
   Congregation — Some Frightened and Some Angry — Mr. Redfield Charged with
   Mesmerizing the Prostrate Ones — Similar Phenomena Occur Outside and Miles
   Away from the Church — Mr. Kendall in Full Sympathy with the Work —
   Wonderful Success — An Incident Illustrating Clerical Hostility to the Work
   — Mr. Redfield’s Feelings Described by Himself — A Searching Sermon —
   Slandered by a Brother Minister — The Minister’s Evil Designs Exposed — Mr.
   Redfield’s Observation Concerning Opposers of Holiness — The Origin of the
   Free Methodist Church — Further Account of the Minister Who Opposed the
   Albion Revival — Incident Illustrating the Thoroughness of Mr. Redfield’s
   Work — Color Distinctions Done Away — Letter from Mr. Kendall — A Letter
   from Dr. Redfield

CHAPTER 41

   Goes to Bridgeport, Conn. — Burdened for the Work — A Baptist Deacon
   Sanctified — A Great Ingathering of Souls — A New Church Built — Incidents
   of the Revival — Visiting and Laboring Amid the Scenes of His Childhood — A
   Prosperous Beginning — The Meetings Abruptly Closed by the Pastor — Visiting
   the Graves of His Parents and Other Sainted Dead — Weeping Over the
   Desolations of Zion

CHAPTER 42

   Invited to Henrietta, N.Y. — Meets the Presiding Elder on the Way — The
   Elder’s Questioning and Remarks — The Pastor, Rev. J. K. Tinkham, an
   Agreeable Co-laborer — Church Members Confessing their Delinquencies — Two
   Infidel Sons of One of the Members Converted — They Work for the Conversion
   of Others with Marked Success — A Minister Opposing the Work — Mr.
   Redfield’s Method Brings the Opposition to a Close — The Opposing Minister
   Saved — The Sexton’s Experience — Mr. Purdy’s Assistance in the Work — An
   Interesting Letter — Mr. Redfield Goes to Work at Another Field — Request of
   the Presiding Elder — A Desolate Field — Work in the Presiding Elder’s
   Family — A Trifling Pastor — An Old Minister of the Right Stamp —
   Consecrating for Faithful Work — Urging Inconsistent Church Members to Take
   a Stand — Accused by a Local Preacher of Insulting the People — Another
   Public Denunciation — The Local Preacher Accused of Crime — The Proof — The
   Congregation Vote in Favor of Having the Plain Truth Preached — Urging to
   Action — Appealing to the Sense of Honor in Inconsistent Professors — A
   Tempest — Mr. Redfield Newly Commits the Work to God — A Night of General
   Awakening in the Community — A Large Ingathering of Souls the Result

CHAPTER 43

   Another Field — The Melodeon and the Choir — Beginning at the Foundation —
   Waited Upon by a Committee — Informed of Reports Concerning His Great
   Wealth, etc. — His Answer — The Work Deep and Extensive — Five Hundred
   Converted — A Young Lady Is Converted and Leads Eleven Others to Christ in
   Less Than an Hour — The Pastor Seeking Holiness — Afterward Compromises —
   Mr. Redfield Goes to Bath — Raising the Standard of Holiness — The Work
   Breaks Out in Power — Satan’s Device to Bring it into Disrepute — Strange
   Actions of a Doctor’s Wife — A Converted Jeweler

CHAPTER 44

   At Buffalo, N.Y. — Labors in the Niagara St. M. E. Church — Rev. B. T.
   Roberts, Pastor — State of the Work — Revival Begins — Incidents — Mr.
   Redfield Talks with One of the Bishops — The Bishop Unfavorable to His Work
   — Dr. Stevens’ Views of Luxuries etc. — A Sharp Conflict in the Genesee
   Conference over the Holiness Issue — Position of Mr. Roberts, W. C. Kendall,
   and Eleazer Thomas — A Lawyer’s Interference with Mr. Redfield’s Work — The
   Work Forced to a Close — The Niagara St. Church Sold for Debt — Becomes
   First a Jewish Synagogue, then a Masonite Temple — Interesting Letter from
   Dr. Redfield — Leaving Buffalo for Townsendville — Assisting J. K. Tinkham
   — A Glorious Revival — From Townsendville to P_____ B_____ — Revisiting
   Syracuse — Building a Church — Opposition — Endorsed by the Presiding Elder
   — The Third M. E. Church Organized — The Presiding Elder’s Administration
   Criticized — Conference Appoints a Preacher to the Third Church — The
   Conference Preachers Oppose the Freedom of the Spirit — A Noble Layman —
   History of the New Society — Finally Becomes Attached to the Free Methodist
   Church at Its Organization — Mr. Redfield in Burlington, Vermont

CHAPTER 45

   Great Revival in Burlington — Mr. Purdy Prepares the Way — The Pastor
   Favorable to Old-time Methodism — Opposition from Other Churches — The Work
   Spreading — More than One Thousand Converted — A Second Church Organized —
   Attempts to Impair Mr. Redfield’s Influence — Slanderous Reports — Mr.
   Redfield’s Influence upon the Second Church — Letter from Rev. R. B. Howard
   in “The Congregationalist” Referring to Dr. Redfield and His Work — A Letter
   from the Same Writer, in the “California Christian Advocate” — Rev. Howard
   and Dr. Goodell Both Converted under Mr. Redfield’s Labors at Burlington —
   Letter from Mr. Redfield to Rev. W. C. Kendall — Engaged with Another
   Physician in Establishing an Infirmary — A Letter Concerning this Enterprise
   — Another Letter Concerning the Revival in Burlington, and a Branch
   Infirmary Established There — Comments on the Foregoing Letters

CHAPTER 46

   Second Marriage — One of His Reasons for Marrying — The Lady Who Became His
   Wife — Married at Keesville, N.Y. — Influence of His Marriage upon His Work
   — In the Evangelistic Field Again — At Lima, N.Y. — A Letter Concerning the
   State of Things at Lima and the Character of the Work — Leaving Lima — A
   Card from Rev. Woodruff Post — Genesee Conference Troubles — Opposition to
   Messrs. Kendall, Roberts, Stiles, McCreery, and Others — The Laymen’s Camp
   Meetings at Bergen, N.Y. — Hostility of the Church Authorities — The Church
   Takes Advantage of a Technicality in the Article of Incorporation and Wrests
   the Camp Ground from those Who Paid for It — Before the Litigation Is Ended
   the Trees Cut off — Mr. Redfield Suffers from this Persecution

CHAPTER 47

   Labors in Rochester, N.Y. — A Presiding Elder’s Opposition — The Pastor
   Takes His Stand Against the Elder — Scenes of Primitive Methodism Reappear
   — The Pastor Frightened Says the Meetings Must Stop — Other Methodist
   Pastors Opposing the Work — Three Thousand Dollars Subscribed toward
   Building a New Church — Dr. Redfield Requested to Become Pastor of the New
   Society — Mr. Redfield Declines the Proposal — An Invitation to St. Charles,
   Ill. — Meetings in Rochester Attended and Endorsed by President Finney —
   Results of the Work in Rochester — Mrs. James Vick — Mr. Redfield Writes and
   Addresses to Samuel — Huntington a Sketch of His Life — First Attempt at
   Self-vindication — Another Letter to S. Huntington — Leaving Rochester —
   Visiting William C. Kendall — Their Last Visit, and Last Earthly Parting —
   Persecution of Mr. Redfield’s Friends — “The Christian Advocate” Becomes the
   Organ of the Opposition — “The Northern Independent” Opens its Columns in
   Defense of Primitive Methodism — William Hosmer — Rev. B. T. Roberts Writes
   on “Old School Methodism,” and “New School Methodism” — Charged with
   Unchristian Conduct Because of Having Written those Articles — His Trial —
   The Sentence — Appeal to The General Conference — Mr. Roberts Expelled, the
   Following Year, on the Charge of Contumacy — Proved Innocent — A Minister’s
   Testimony Impeached — Mr. Roberts Joins the Church Again on Probation — The
   Minister Who Received Him Expelled for So Doing — Other Ministers Expelled
   for Allowing Mr. Roberts to Speak in Their Churches

CHAPTER 48

   Mr. Redfield Goes to St. Charles, Ill. — Rev. David Sherman — A List of
   Worthies — Results of the Work — Forty Sanctified — Clear Conversions —
   Experience of Charles Elliott Harroun — “The St. Charles Pilgrims” — Letter
   to Samuel Huntington

CHAPTER 49

   Still at St. Charles — Letter to Mr. and Mrs. Kendall, Giving a View of the
   General State of the Work — Mr. Redfield in Aurora, Ill. — A Goodly Number
   Experience Perfect Love — Recruiting at Mackinaw Island — Another Letter to
   Mr. and Mrs. Kendall — Mr. Redfield’s Views Concerning Separation from the
   Church — Goes to Fond du Lac, Wis. — A Glorious Work Begins — A Pastor’s
   Jealousy and Opposition — Mr. Redfield Under Temptation to Return to His Old
   Profession — Providentially Restrained — Goes to New London — Many Blessed
   — From New London to Jefferson, Wis. — Labors Attended with Blessed Results
   — Hears of the Grievous Fall of One Who Had Been a Strong Advocate of
   Holiness — Labors at Waukesha — Many Saved — Visit to Appleton, Wis. — The
   Seat of Lawrence University — Professor Blair and Rev. Wm. McDonald — An
   Infidel Sentiment in the Community and in the University — Incidents of the
   Work — Many Saved — Mr. Redfield Revisits St. Charles — Attending the St.
   Charles Camp Meeting — The Presiding Elder Friendly — Mr. Redfield Preaches
   on Perfect Love — A Remarkable Night — An Impromptu Preachers’ Meeting for
   Holiness — Fifteen Ministers Enter into the Experience During the Night —
   Results — The Work in “The Fox River Region”

CHAPTER 50

   Letter to the Kendalls — A Letter from W. C. Kendall — Conspiracy of
   Persecutors — Kendall, Roberts, and McCreery the Victims — Scene at the
   Reading of the Conference Appointments — Letter from Kendall to Roberts
   Describing His New Circuit — Letter to A. A. Phelps — Mr. Kendall’s Last
   Appointment — Account of His Death — Scene at the Funeral — Sketch of His
   Character — Testimonial from Father Coleman

CHAPTER 51

   Mr. Redfield Again in St. Charles, Ill. — Letter to Brother and Sister
   Kendall — Plan for Forming a Methodist Colony in Texas — Goes to Elgin, Ill.
   — The Elgin Pastor — Method of Conducting the Work — Results — Invited to
   Marengo, Ills. — Deciding to Go — A Telegram Announcing Wm. C. Kendall’s
   Illness — Letter in Reply — At Marengo — State of the Work — Communication
   from Superintendent Hart — A Wonderful Work — Four or Five Hundred Converted
   — Whiskey Shops Closed — Many Sanctified — Conversion of a Village Drayman
   — A Physician Sanctified and Enters the Ministry — “Mother Cobb” — “Mother
   Combs” — The Mother of Superintendent Hart — The Pastor of the Church —
   Holiness Meetings at Brother Bishop’s — Mr. Redfield Receives Tidings of Mr.
   Kendall’s Death — Letter of Condolence to Mrs. Kendall — Extract from a
   Letter — Fruit of the Marengo Revival Not Properly Cared For

CHAPTER 52

   At Woodstock, Ill. — Condition of the Work — Strange Experience at an Altar
   Service — Determined Opposition to the Work — Methods Employed to Obstruct
   the Work — The Pastor Brought into Close Quarters Takes His Place As a
   Seeker of Holiness — Effect upon the People — A Wonderful Work of Grace —
   Results — Mr. Redfield Drawn toward St. Louis — Planning to Go — At Queen
   Anne Prairie — St. Charles Camp Meeting — Witness of Perfect Love Raised Up
   by Mr. Redfield’s Labors — Liberty Given Mr. Redfield at the Camp Meeting
   — Sanctification the Keynote of the Meeting — An Anti-Rum, Anti-Tobacco, and
   Anti-Holiness Sermon — The Beginning of Hostility to Holiness on the Fox
   River District

CHAPTER 53

   Mr. Redfield Visits Western New York — Attends a General Quarterly Meeting
   — Encouragement — Returns to Illinois — Letter to Mrs. Kendall — Attending
   Camp Meeting at Coral, Ill. — Presiding Elder Crews — Holiness Work the
   Prominent Feature of the Meeting — The Sunday Afternoon Services — The
   Presiding Elder Sanctified — Preparing to Visit St. Louis — Visits St.
   Charles on the Way South — Letters to Mrs. Kendall

CHAPTER 54

   A Farewell Prayer Meeting — A Stop at Princeton Ill. — Another Letter to
   Mrs. Kendall — A Week at Burlington, Iowa — Reaches St. Louis — Boarding at
   Hotels — Looking for a Northern M. E. Church — Goes to the Ebenezer Church
   — Presents Letters of Introduction and of Membership to the Pastor —
   Preaching in St. Louis — Pawning His Watch to Pay a Board Bill — A Jew Acts
   the Part of the Good Samaritan — Way to Public Labor Hedged Up — Visitation
   — Good Results — Invited to Preach in a Colored People’s Church — Labors
   Greatly Blessed — Preaching Occasionally in Ebenezer Church — Conversation
   with the Pastor — Invited by the Quarterly Conference to Hold a Series of
   Meetings in Ebenezer Church — Beginning the Work — Checked by the Pastor — A
   Telling Sermon — Letter from the Official Board Requesting Mr. Redfield’s
   Dismissal — Conversation with the Pastor — Suspicion on the Part of Many
   That the Pastor was Responsible for This Action of the Board

CHAPTER 55

   Dr. and Mrs. Redfield Take Their Letters from Ebenezer Church — Resolutions
   Passed by Ninety Members — Calling for Church Letters — After Granting
   Twenty Letters the Pastor Refuses to Give More — Confesses Himself the
   Author of the Letter Purporting to Come from the Official Board — A
   Ministerial Fraud — Comment on the Resolutions — Letter to “The Northern
   Independent” — Comments on This Letter

CHAPTER 56

   Mr. Redfield Asked to Become Pastor of the Ninety Members Who had Seceded
   from Ebenezer Church — The Reply — Efforts to Organize with the Presiding
   Elder’s Sanction — Disapproved by the Elder — Mr. Redfield Charged by the
   Pastor of Ebenezer Church with Splitting the Church — The Reply — Letter
   Requesting an Interview with Mr. Redfield at the Office of the “C. C.
   Advocate” — Mr. Redfield’s Letter in Reply — Another Letter from M. E.
   Pastors — Pastor Williams Declares War — Rumors of Mob Policy — Mr.
   Redfield’s Illness — Attendance at Church on Recovering — Resuming Work — A
   Methodist Church on the Congregational Plan — New Appointments — Visitors
   from Abroad and Their Reports — The Conflict in St. Louis — Mr. Redfield’s
   Correspondence — Mental Conflicts — An Incident in Mr. Redfield’s Personal
   Experience

CHAPTER 57

   Tidings from Western New York — Resolutions of the Laymen’s Convention
   Requesting — Mr. Roberts and Mr. McCreery to Labor as Evangelists — Mr.
   Roberts invited by the New Church in St. Louis to Take Mr. Redfield’s Place
   That He Might Be Free to Go Elsewhere — Mr. Roberts In St. Louis — New
   Organization Perfected — The Role against Slavery — Joseph Wickersham, Who
   Had Freed $30,000 Worth of Slaves — Plea for Toleration of Slavery Baseless
   — Another Resolution Passed by the Laymen’s Convention — Reading Members out
   of the Church — Resolution of the Convention Concerning its Attitude toward
   the Church — Mr. Redfield’s Description of the State of Affairs at This Time
   in St. Louis — The New Society in St. Louis Pass — Resolutions Concerning
   Mr. Redfield — The Editor of “The Central Christian Advocate” and the Pastor
   of Ebenezer Church Secure a Promise from Dr. Redfield not to have the
   Resolutions Published, at the Same time Agreeing to Publish Nothing
   Themselves Concerning Their Troubles — A Slanderous Article Which Soon
   Appeared in the “Advocate” — A Reply Prepared by a Committee — The “Central
   Advocate” Refuses to Publish It — The “St. Louis Christian Advocate,” —
   Organ of the M. E. Church South, Publishes the Reply — A Copy of the Reply
   as Published — Mr. Redfield Starts for Quincy, Ill. — Soliloquizing on the
   Way — Arrival at Quincy — The Publication Preceded Him — Requested to
   Deposit His Letter and Stand a Trial — His Reply — President and Agent of
   the College Go to St. Louis to Ascertain the Facts — They Confer with None
   but Mr. Redfield’s Accusers, and Are Convinced That He is in the Right — The
   Way Open for Work — A Lady’s Experience and Dream — Beginning the Work in
   Quincy — A Baptist Minister Sanctified — An incident — Letter to Brother and
   Sister Foote

CHAPTER 58

   Wisdom of Mr. Redfield’s Refusal to be Tried by the Ebenezer Church — Policy
   Pursued in Other Trials — Mr. Redfield Takes His Letter Again and
   Temporarily — Deposits It in the Southern Church — Accused of Compromising
   His Anti-slavery Principles — Staunch Friends Desert Him — Ex-Bishop
   Hamline’s Attitude — Mr. Redfield Goes East — Handbills Charging Him and the
   New Society with Being Slaveholders — Rev. Seymour Coleman — Camp Meeting
   Near Sycamore, Ill. — Holiness the Theme — Father Coleman’s Preaching —
   Holiness Testimonials Referring to Dr. Redfield’s Labors — The Presiding
   Elder Hurt — Reproves These Testimonies — The Elder’s remarks Published in
   the “N. W. Christian Advocate” — A Conversation Called Forth by the Elder’s
   Testimony — A Camp Meeting near Aurora, Ill. — Benjamin Pomeroy — Father
   Coleman at His Best — Dr. T. M. Eddy — Father Coleman on Sunday Afternoon
   — Hon. Benjamin Hackney Experiences Entire Sanctification — His Testimony
   — Another Camp Meeting near Coral, Ill. — Mr. Redfield Present — Results of
   the Camp Meetings — E. P. Hart and J. H. Richardson Recommended to the
   Conference by the Rockford District — Presiding Elder H. Opposes Their
   Reception on the Ground That They Are “Tainted with Redfieldism” — Mr. Hart
   Admitted and Mr. Richardson rejected — Richardson Goes to Minnesota on a
   Presiding Elder’s — Invitation, and Becomes a Successful Minister — Mr. Hart
   Still “Tainted with Redfieldism,” and Spreading It in His Labors as a
   General Superintendent of the Free Methodist Church

CHAPTER 59

   The Author, Then a Local Preacher, Invited to Hold Meetings on Mt. Pleasant
   Circuit — The Invitation Accepted — The Work Moving — Help Needed — Mr.
   Redfield Sent for Conditions on Which He Would Come — Conditions Accepted
   — Beginning His Work — Manner of Procedure Described — A Powerful Sermon on
   the Judgment — Eighty Seekers at the Altar — The New Pastor Introduced —
   Sunday Services — Results — Preaching Prematurely on the Way of Faith —
   Going Deeper — An Eloquent Discourse on the “Final Catastrophe of the
   Earth” — Mr. Redfield returns to St. Charles — The Work Continues Three
   Weeks Longer — A Presiding Elder’s Instructions as to How and When to Shout
   — Results of the Meetings — One Hundred Converted and Seventy-five
   Sanctified — A Sunday Night Scene in the Church — The Pastor’s Confession
   — Asking the Prayers of the Congregation — A Terrible Struggle with
   Conviction — Rendering a Wrong Decision

CHAPTER 60

   Return to St. Charles — Attitude of the Preacher in Charge — Sent to Guard
   the Pulpit against Redfield and Coleman — Sacrificing Men for the Good of
   the Church — Mr. Redfield Invited into the Baptist Church — Beginning His
   Labors — The Church Closed Through the Influence of the Methodist Pastor —
   The Universalist Church Opened — Reading Members Out of the Methodist Church
   for Going to Hear Mr. Redfield Preach — New Way of Conducting a Methodist
   Prayer Meeting — Trustees Read Out of the Church — False Swearing — Prayer
   Meetings at Brother Foote’s — Letters Written by Mr. Redfield

CHAPTER 61

   Dr. Redfield Returns to St. Louis — Spends an Evening with the Writer before
   Starting — Reviews His Life Work — Painful Surprise on Reaching St. Louis
   — The New Society Greatly Depleted — The Causes — Effect of This Disaster
   upon Mr. Redfield — Suffers a Paralytic Stroke — Ceases from Public Labors
   During the Winter — Under Medical Treatment — Able to Preach Again in the
   Spring — State of the Work in Several Places — Mr. Redfield Consulted as to
   What Should Be Done with Converts — His View’s as Given by Himself — Mr.
   Redfield’s Encouragements — Mary Ferguson Correspondence

CHAPTER 62

   Laymen’s Convention at Olean, N.Y. — Every Charge in the Genesee Conference
   Represented by a Delegate — The Free Methodist Church, Which Had Been
   Organized, — Represented by a Delegate, Who Was Invited to a Seat in the
   Convention — Petitions to the General Conference — Resolution Endorsing the
   “Earnest Christian” — Report of the Committee on Resolutions — A Resolution
   Concerning Adherence to the Church — Remarks by J. McCreery, T. B. Catton,
   Wm. Hart, — B. T. Roberts, S. K. J. Chesbro and J. W. Reddy — Mr. Redfield
   Watching Genesee — Conference Proceedings from St. Louis — Letter from St.
   Louis

CHAPTER 63

   Dr. Elias Bowen’s Account of the General Conference of May, 1860, and Its
   Treatment of the Appeal Cases — Review of General Conference Proceedings by
   — Wm. Hosmer in the “Northern Independent” — Difficulties in the West —
   Preachers Shut out of Churches and Schoolhouses — Severe Persecutions —
   Trial and Expulsion of the Bishop Family — An Impromptu Love-feast — Monday
   Night Holiness Meeting at Father Bishop’s led by Father Coleman — Advice
   Concerning the Church Troubles — Failure of General Conference to Reinstate
   the Proscribed Ministers — Decisions against Bishops Who Presided at the
   Trials — Convention at St. Charles, Ill., in July, 1860 — A Similar
   Convention Called for the Same Object in Western N. Y. — Minutes of the
   Illinois Convention — General Laymen’s Convention at Pekin, N. Y. —
   Organization of the Free Methodist Church and the Adoption of a Discipline
   — A Laymen’s Convention at Aurora, Ill. Adopts the New Discipline — The
   Preachers Go Forth to Organize Free Methodist Churches — Mr. Redfield’s
   Identification with the Organization of the New Church a Necessity

CHAPTER 64

   Mr. Redfield Returns to the West — Zealous Labors — Tour of Visitation among
   the Scenes of His Former Labors — Rev. E. P. Hart Withdraws from the M. E.
   Church and Takes Work under Mr. Redfield — Mr. Redfield at Aurora, Ill. —
   Stricken Down with Paralysis — Weeks of Severe Suffering Follow — The Trial
   of His Faith — A True and Faithful Friend — Improved Health — A Trip East
   — Holds Meetings in the Free Methodist Church in Buffalo — Correspondence
   — Return to Illinois — Attending a Quarterly Meeting — Outline of a
   Remarkable Sermon — Quarterly Meetings — St. Charles Camp Meeting — Hoping
   for Divine Healing — Mental Conflicts — Leaves Off Preaching Entirely — A
   Letter Written in Great Weakness of Mind and Body — Mr. Redfield’s Plan for
   a Pilgrim’s House — Attending a Camp Meeting in Ogle Co., Ill., in 1862 — A
   Scene of Confusion — Mr. Redfield Equal to the Emergency — A Visit to
   Buffalo and Syracuse — Looking to Be Healed in Answer to Prayer — Failing in
   Mind — Returning to the West — Attends the Illinois Annual Conference — The
   Last Letter of His Life — A Third Stroke of Paralysis — Rapid Ebbing Away of
   Life — The Death Scene — Funeral — The Epitaph —

   The Conqueror Crowned
     _________________________________________________________________

   The Life Of J. W. Redfield

   TO ALL THOSE,

   who, with evangelical faith,

   and fervent love,

   by their prayers, means and personal efforts

   are engaged in the glorious work

   of leading souls from sin and the world

   to partake of the

   peace and joy that springs from that

   “HOLINESS 

   WITHOUT WHICH NO MAN CAN SEE THE LORD,”

   these pages are inscribed by the

   AUTHOR
     _________________________________________________________________

Introduction

  By Rev. B. T. Roberts

   Dead trees can be made into blocks, or boards of the same length, and
   breadth, and thickness. But plant two seeds from the same tree, in the same
   soil, exposed to the same influences, and they will grow up resembling and
   yet unlike each other. You can easily tell them apart. Life abhors
   uniformity.

   In a dead church ministers may be essentially alike. They may all go through
   with the same routine duties, in the same manner, and with the same results.
   But let spiritual life get into a church, and men are raised up to do
   ministerial work outside of the regular ministerial channels. The church
   itself may recognize but one class of ministers — it may insist upon their
   absolute equality, and require of all the same service; but when life
   divines comes thrilling through its members, some will break through all
   their regulations, and exercise the functions of an office which the church
   does not recognize. And thus in face of all human provisions to the
   contrary, the Scriptures are fulfilled, “And God hath set some in the
   church, first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after that
   miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diversities of
   tongues.” — I Cor. xii. 28. The phrase “hath set” denotes a permanent
   arrangement. In the original it is a word frequently translated
   “ordained.” It does not refer to a short-lived plan that was to last for but
   a single generation. So the error is apparent, of the assumption that there
   were but twelve apostles; and that the apostleship ceased with these. In
   fact the New Testament speaks expressly of other apostles besides the
   twelve. The Church of England has an order of ministers which it calls
   “priests,” for which order the gospel of Christ makes no provision. Not once
   in the New Testament are any of the ministers of the gospel called priests.
   They are called by a great variety of names, but this is not found among
   them. A priest is one that offers sacrifices; and in Christ, the High Priest
   of our profession, the priesthood as a ministerial order ceased. James is
   nowhere in the New Testament called a priest, nor is Peter, nor Paul, nor
   any other minister of the gospel. The term priest is applied in the New
   Testament to all of God’s people. “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a
   spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices,
   acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” — I Peter ii. 5. “But ye are a chosen
   generation, a royal priesthood.” — v. 9. So Christians are required as
   priests to present their bodies a living sacrifice. (Romans xii. 1.) To
   present to God broken hearts and contrite spirits, — for these are
   sacrifices which he will not despise (Psalm li. 17.) To abound in good
   works. “But to do good and to communicate forget not, for with such
   sacrifices God is well pleased.” (See also Phil. iv. 18.) To offer praise to
   God. “By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God
   continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name.” —
   Hebrews xiii. 15. But none of these things can we do by proxy. No priest can
   step between us and God to do them for us. If not done in our own proper
   person, and from our own free will, they are not done at all. Others may
   persuade us; but any other sacrifice than that which Christ has made for us
   — once for all, we ourselves must make. So those who would be real Christian
   s must reject all assumptions of priestly authority.

   Though the Church of England does not recognize the order of apostles as
   still in existence; yet from the ranks of its ministry, John Wesley stood
   forth before the world an apostle sent of God.

   The Methodist Church of today acknowledges no apostles, yet William Taylor
   has shown himself to be as truly an apostle, as was St. Paul or John Wesley.

   Among Independents, Dwight L. Moody has shown himself to be an evangelist,
   though the Independent churches know no ministers but pastors.

   So John Wesley Redfield stood forth in the Methodist Episcopal Church, the
   most wonderful evangelist of his day, though that church makes no provision
   for evangelists among its ministers.

   He went into the work, because of an overwhelming conviction from God that
   this was his calling. Like Paul, his “own hands ministered to his
   necessities”; and when he felt called of God to go to a place to hold
   meetings for the salvation of souls, he never stipulated that he should
   receive anything for his services, or even that his traveling expenses
   should be paid. But where he went without the promise of purse or scrip he
   never lacked anything. The Lord, in one way or another, provided for his
   wants.

   I first became acquainted with Dr. Redfield when I was a student at
   Middletown, Connecticut. He held a protracted meeting in the Methodist
   Episcopal Church. There was a large society, but a low state of religious
   experience. He preached in the afternoon to the church, in the evening to
   sinners. A great excitement was soon stirred up. Such preaching and such
   praying had never before been heard in that city. Many of the most prominent
   members of the church went forward for prayers, and obtained a new
   experience of entire sanctification. A spirit of opposition was manifested,
   and it seemed doubtful for a time how the tide would turn; but Dr. Stephen
   Olin, president of the University, who was suffering from a general nervous
   prostration, got up from his bed and went out to hear him. He gave the work
   his strongest endorsement, saying in substance, “Brethren, this is the work
   of God and you must stand by it.”

   The college faculty, and the church generally, did stand by it, and a
   revival remarkable for its depth, and for the number of its converts, was
   the result. Some twenty-five young men who afterwards became preachers were
   converted, The whole city was in commotion and the country for miles around.
   The influence of that revival is still felt, not only in this country, but
   also in Europe, and Asia and Africa. No mortal can tell where a mighty wave
   of salvation once set in motion will end.

   The following pages, written by one who was converted under Dr. Redfield’s
   labors, will give the reader a correct idea of the wonderful work which God
   carried on through the instrumentality of his devoted servant.

   We have heard many able, distinguished preachers, but we never heard another
   who would stir the human conscience to its depths like Dr. Redfield. His
   statements were clear, his descriptions vivid and eloquent; but his appeals
   to the conscience were overwhelming. He made those who would not obey God
   feel that they were utterly without excuse. Those who were justified or
   sanctified wholly under his labors were not easily drawn away unto the
   gospel of expediency. They were governed by principle rather than by policy.
   Time-serving preachers did not like his converts. They had no relish for
   religious theatricals or church festivals. They were hard to manage. Hence,
   Dr. Redfield generally encountered, wherever he labored, fierce opposition
   from ecclesiastics. A whole city would be moved by his preaching, while the
   presiding elder, and such as he could influence, were doing all they could
   to destroy his influence. But when once started the work went so deep and so
   strong, that no degree of violence permitted under our laws could kill it
   out. All through the land are still to be found those who were saved through
   his instrumentality, and they are generally characterized by the their
   uncompromising opposition to sin in all its popular forms; by their firm
   belief in the power of the Holy Ghost, and by their clear, strong, definite
   testimony.

   We trust that this book will be extensively read, and that it will carry a
   saving influence into thousands of families.
     _________________________________________________________________

Author’s Introduction

   In the month of January, 1858, a rumor reached the neighborhood in which the
   writer lived, four miles west of Elgin, Illinois, that a remarkable preacher
   was holding revival meetings in the Methodist church in town. Their
   curiosity being greatly excited, a wagon load of young people, myself among
   the number, started out one evening for the place of meeting to hear the
   great preacher for themselves.

   Though we arrived at an early hour, we found the house then partly filled,
   and long before the time for the service to begin, it was filled to its
   utmost capacity. Our company found seats well forward, and my own was where
   I could see every one who came in at the door. A few minutes before the
   appointed time of service, a man entered, whose personal appearance
   instantly commanded my attention. He was small of stature, with a massive
   head, pale, delicate countenance, and lustrous eyes. Softly and quietly he
   moved along the aisle toward the pulpit which he reverently entered. He laid
   aside his wraps, and as though shrinking from the gaze of the assembled
   multitude, he knelt for a few moments in silent prayer. His presence and
   manner thrilled me though he had not yet spoken a word. The congregation had
   been hushed into perfect silence by the same subtle influence. At this time
   I was unconverted, and I had not time, nor did I care, to analyze my
   impressions of the man; but from that moment, however, I was read y to
   listen to him with the profoundest attention.

   He arose and gave out a hymn with clear and distinct enunciation. The
   reading of the hymn was peculiarly impressive. Though a familiar one, each
   line of it took on a fullness of meaning which it never seemed to me to have
   before. He expressed its meaning, not only by the intonations and
   modulations of a remarkably sweet voice, but by his countenance, which
   seemed quiet, but forcibly, utter the same sentiment.

   The Prayer, which followed was more impressive still. The deep reverence
   with which he uttered the names of the divine Being, the clearness and
   simplicity of the language he used, the definite confidence of his manner,
   completely charmed me. The text for the occasion was Mark viii. 36: “What
   shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own
   soul?”

   At this point the preacher’s manner entirely changed. His style became
   abrupt, startling, and was characterized by great clearness and strength. He
   chose the most forceful and expressive words. His sentences were short and
   crisp. His dialect, that of the common people. His method, declarative and
   descriptive.

   His first few sentences were the following:

   “There are persons in this congregation who will sell their immortal souls
   for two-and-sixpence. Before they will lay aside a galvanized pewter ring
   they will run the risk of losing heaven. There are others who will sell
   their immortal souls for some picayunish office, and they’ll never get as
   high as constable.”

   There seemed to be two general divisions to his discourse the value of the
   soul as estimated (1) by what it can be purchased for; (2) by what it cost.
   About half of the time was spent in elaborating each point. On the first he
   gradually rose higher and higher in the estimate; but when he reached the
   second, his eloquence became overwhelming. One of the closing passages in
   this part of his discourse was as follows:

   “The angels of heaven were grouped together, endeavoring to estimate what
   would be the cost to redeem a human soul; but all in vain. The red-fingered
   lightning played around the rocks of Mt. Calvary, endeavoring to trace it in
   letters of fire there but all in vain. Only one thing could express it, and
   that was the dying groans of the Son of God.”

   My most vivid recollections of the man are as he appeared in the pulpit that
   evening. In one of his most impassioned utterances, he stood with both hands
   raise above his head, his face shining as with a halo light, and his whole
   soul thrown into the eloquent thoughts that came like a torrent from his
   lips.

   The preacher to whom I listened that evening, and whose eloquent words and
   impressive appearance I still recall as vividly as though what I have
   described occurred but yesterday was the

   Rev. John Wesley Redfield,

   whose biography is recorded in the following pages.

   The impression produced upon me that evening made this man of God, to me, an
   interesting study during the few years of my personal acquaintance with him,
   and while preparing these pages for publication.

   His mental characteristics were peculiar. The intuitive faculties
   predominated. He did not reason to conclusions like most men. He saw,
   instantly, what many strong minds would require much time to reason out.
   This, doubtless, was an element of his strength and success as an
   evangelist. Difficulties had not time to develop and ripen before he was
   prepared to meet them.

   He read men. He knew what were the determining influences upon them. This
   gave character to his style of preaching. His first sermon in a place was
   with the confident positiveness of long acquaintanceship. This thrilled men.
   They knew that he knew them. When this is assumed by the weak, it is
   repulsive and disgusting, and men will not listen to it; but when one speaks
   from this intuitive knowledge, with the unction of the Holy One, their
   respect is challenged. This is because they recognize the message to be
   truth.

   Another element of his character was that of experimental conformity to the
   divine will. He utterly abandoned himself to the known will of God. There
   was no reserve in his consecration. Whether in the light or in the dark,
   favored or frowned upon by men, to his advantage or disadvantage, in peril
   or in safety, he aimed to do exactly what he thought God wanted him to do.
   One of his peculiar phrases was, “the exact right.” He dealt with men, from
   the pulpit, in the altar, and in private, on that principle. “Calling things
   by their right names,” was another of his peculiar phrases. He did not


   “Smooth down the stubborn text to ears polite,

   And snugly keep damnation out of sight.”

   With him, there was no seeking for “honeyed phrase.” He used but few large
   words, and those such as were in common use. He aimed to be understood.

   Whether naturally or acquired, he had all the elements of the orator. His
   imagination was fervid, quick, broad, and accurate; this made his mental
   pictures vivid and true to nature. He never lacked for the right word; this
   helped him to express himself clearly. His elocution was perfect. The
   framing of his sentences, the order of his thoughts, his gestures, the
   modulations of his voice, the expression of his face, and his manner, all,
   were in harmony. All these made it possible for him to transfer his thoughts
   to the minds of others with accuracy and power. So complete was this, that
   sometimes his audiences forgot themselves, the place and the speaker, in the
   vividness of the truths to which they were listening. This was the result of
   his naturalness. He felt what he thought, and expressed what he thought and
   felt.

   It will be noticed where he is quoted in the following narrative, that he
   often says, “I felt,” where others would have said, “I thought.”

   Another element in his character was his implicit faith in God. No doubts
   respecting God’s word made their appearance in his discourses. With him
   there was no apologizing for the facts or the truths of the Bible. Like
   Abraham of old he “believed God.” In his public addresses he seemed to take
   it for granted that all men believed God. Such faith begot faith; and the
   discouraged became hopeful, and the weak became strong in his presence. A
   minister, while severely criticizing his methods and labors, admitted that
   he would rather trust his own child under Mr. Redfield’s preaching than
   under that of any minister he knew.

   Another element of his character was his great sympathy. Suffering in others
   he could not witness, unless he could assist in relieving it. When visiting
   among the farmers, the killing of animals, though for food, greatly
   distressed him. He would walk his room in agony until informed that it was
   over. He shrank from inflicting mental pain, and only from a sense of duty
   could he bring himself to do it.

   One of the hardest things for him to do was to bid farewell to his friends.
   He has been known to take a night train to avoid this. This trait made him
   apparently a coward. It was only when convinced that duty demanded it, that
   he could do the severe and faithful work that he sometimes performed. This
   accounts for many strange passages in his life which are recorded in these
   pages. Those who knew him only as he appeared in public, supposed him brave
   to a fault.

   Doctrinally he was in accord with the standards of Methodism. He often
   called upon his enemies in the church to show wherein he was unsound in the
   faith. Only once was this attempted, and the result was in his favor, and
   against his opposers. In his work as an evangelist, he recognized the office
   of the truth. He believed that men were, born again, by the word of God;
   that they were sanctified by the truth. He was careful as to his teachings,
   especially so with seekers for salvation. In altar services he often took
   more time to explain the way than he did for the season of prayer. He held
   his prayer services to definite work. The nature and fruits of repentance
   were kept clearly before the minds of those seeking pardon. The nature and
   the details of entire consecration were kept clearly before those seeking
   for perfect love. He believed in, and taught, an itemized dedication of all
   the seeker possessed, or hoped to have, to the service God. Before he
   attempted to present the way of faith, he would, in individual cases,
   carefully test the purposes, and motives, and desires of the seeker. All
   these he would bring to the standard of God’s word. That standard, he
   taught, is the absolute and unconditional surrender of the soul to God. He
   taught that there is no hope of reconciliation with God without perfect
   renunciation of sin, and acceptance of Christ. He taught that there is no
   hope of attaining perfect love while there is the least reserve in the aims,
   or desires, or affections from the will of God. This thoroughness with the
   seekers often caused them great mental suffering. There was no attempt to
   shield them from feelings of despair while there was rebellion existing in
   the heart, or any doubt of surrendering all to God. This was what made those
   who were saved through his instrumentality so definite and clear, and,
   consequently, strong. The transition from the agony of surrendering to the
   peace of believing, was usually so marked that it thrilled all who were
   looking on. This encouraged even the impenitent to believe that if they
   started to seek Christ they would succeed. It was not unusual for seekers to
   make that transition before they reached the altar of prayer. One result of
   this was that the many were saved soon, and but few came to the altar more
   than once. In his preaching, he was careful in his enunciation that every
   word and syllable should be heard and understood. If there, was the least
   disturbance in the congregation, by the moving of persons, the crying of
   children, or the shouts of the saints he would wait in silence until all was
   quiet before proceeding. He aimed to present the truth which the people
   mostly needed. He had no time to spend in idle speculations or fanciful
   interpretations of the word of God. He waited before the Lord, in prayer,
   until he felt satisfied that he knew the mind of the Lord. The consciousness
   that he had made a mistake in this gave him intense pain, and caused him to
   humble himself before the Lord. When duty became clear, whether the truth to
   be preached was popular or unpopular, acceptable or unacceptable, he went
   boldly forward, trusting God with the results. This was not unattended with
   suffering for his shrinking, sensitive nature was often put upon the rack by
   it. Coarse natures who have no care how they make others feel can have no
   appreciation of his feelings at such times.

   But while he gave the truth its proper place, in his work, he did not ignore
   the offices of the Holy Spirit. He believed it the work of the Spirit to
   make the truth effectual. He believed the Christian minister might have his
   immediate presence and aid. He gave him free course in his meetings. He
   would not labor, nor dared he to try, where this was not allowed. He was
   more particular about that preparation for his pulpit efforts than he was
   about the sermon. The Spirit’s dispensation was illustrated in his labors.
   Many and varied were the manifestations of this. There were often mixed with
   these that which was merely human, springing from the weakness of human
   nature, and which called forth the tenderest sympathy for the subjects of
   them, and the most careful dealing with them. There were often, also, those
   which seemed to be Satanic. He believed in a personal, intelligent, powerful
   devil. He expected every possible resistance to the truth and the Spirit of
   God. But he believed himself too weak to contend against the devil. When
   such manifestations appeared, instead of warring against them, he prayed for
   more of the Holy Spirit’s presence. He believed in the all-conquering power
   of the truth and the Spirit; that where victory for Jesus is complete, poor
   human, nature will act properly, and Satan’s power is broken.

   Because of this recognition of the Holy Spirit, the spiritual among God’s
   people were greatly enlightened, strengthened, and often wonderfully moved
   under his preaching. Such people understood him when others did not, and
   were among his best and firmest friends. His enemies were among the worldly
   and time-serving. He was accused of dividing the church in his later years,
   but it was because he left no middle ground. The spiritual became more so,
   and they who would not yield wholly to the Lord went to the other extreme.
   No matter what the opposition or prejudice in the way, where the church
   authorities gave him freedom; almost invariably, he was victorious; for the
   truth and the Holy Spirit conquered all.

   He was developed by the circumstances and experiences of his life. The
   rebellion of his early days, the providential difficulties which grew out of
   this, and the mental struggles through which he passed, were used by God to
   prepare him for his great work. In the following narrative it will be
   interesting to trace the process by which this was effected.

   The most of the matter for this volume is from his own recollections, as
   penned by himself, in the last days of his life, after having been disabled
   for active labor by the palsy. He knew he was rapidly approaching eternity.
   With the most solemn feelings, he carefully reviewed his life and labors. It
   would have been pleasing to have given these recollections in his own words;
   but whether it was natural with him, or caused by the paralysis from which
   he was suffering, his style of writing was so unlike that of his preaching,
   that his friends would have doubted the genuineness of them, if they had
   been published as he left them. Again, for some reason, he omitted dates,
   and all but the initials of proper names. It has, for this reason, been very
   difficult to verify some of the most interesting details of his labors. I
   have been greatly assisted in this by his friends, who have contributed much
   that is valuable, which had been overlooked by Mr. Redfield, and who have
   also loaned me the use of many letters written by himself during the later
   years of his active ministry. This has made it necessary to change the style
   from the autobiographical to the biographical. I am much indebted to the
   assistance of these friends, and especially to Mrs. M. F. La Due, for
   valuable recollections of her own, and to Rev. W. T. Hogg for his assistance
   in the finishing touches to the work.

   The beautiful steel engraving which faces the title-page is contributed by
   Rev. B. T. Roberts, editor of the Earnest Christian, and senior general
   superintendent of the Free Methodist Church. The engraving represents Mr.
   Redfield as he appeared in the days of his strength.

   In hope that the following narrative may perpetuate the influence of this
   remarkable man of God and that through it, though dead, he may still speak,
   I send it forth upon its mission, commending it to the kind recognition and,
   devout, perusal of the Christian public.

   Joseph Goodwin Terrill
     _________________________________________________________________

                          The Life Of J. W. Redfield

CHAPTER 1

   John Wesley Redfield was born in Clarendon, New Hampshire, January 23, 1810.
   On the night of his birth an esteemed Christian woman dreamed that she was
   visited by an angel who told her to go to the home of the Redfields and she
   would find there a new born son; and that she must announce to the mother
   that he must be named John Wesley. She was also informed that this would be
   assented to immediately by the mother, who would respond, “That is his
   name.” This woman did as she was bidden, and all came to pass as she had
   dreamed. In mentioning this in his journal, Mr. Redfield says, “By that
   unlucky name was I baptized and have been known through life.”

   So strongly was he impressed with his call to the ministry that when only
   eight years of age, and just able to write legibly, he attempted in secret
   to compose a sermon. When it was completed he borrowed a volume of Wesley’s
   sermons that he might compare his production with them. When he saw the
   great difference between them, in perplexity and sadness he exclaimed: “Oh,
   I can never preach! I don’t know anything about religion. I am sure I never
   can preach.”

   So persistently did the impression of his call to preach follow him in his
   childhood that, in mature years, when attempting to run away from it, he was
   inclined to consider it an “antenatal mark.”

   When about twelve or thirteen years of age he was informed of his mother’s
   impressions concerning him, and the dream already related. So great,
   however, was his aversion to the work of the ministry that he studiously
   contended against his conviction by concealing his feelings and avoiding all
   conversation concerning the matter.

   When between thirteen and fourteen years of age he had such alarming views
   of his sinful state that he feared he was past all hope of mercy. This fear
   became so intense at one period that he was tempted to provoke God to
   destroy him, that, without the guilt of self-murder, he might learn the
   certainty of his fate, and, by the shortening of his sinful course, render
   his doom less aggravated. He had been seeking the favor of God in a secret
   way for some time, but in vain. He now gave up hope, not knowing any other
   way than that which he had followed. His distress of mind continued without
   abatement until he overheard some Christian friends speak of a contemplated
   camp meeting, which they trusted would result in the conversion of sinners.
   At this, hope revived, and to himself he said, “If I go, I too may be
   converted.”

   He obtained permission from his parents to go, and when the time arrived he
   was on the campground. His attention was directed to the altar before the
   stand, with the remark, “There many were converted last year.” Almost
   instantly his heart rebelled against the thought of going to such a place.
   Even in his last days he would express his astonishment at that
   manifestation of rebellion against God.

   In due time a goodly number of tents had been erected, and an old gentleman
   invited him to a prayer meeting about to commence in one of them. He went
   and was asked to kneel with the company. He did so, but soon felt greatly
   mortified at the thought of its being in sight of every passerby. The
   praying seemed childish, if not ludicrous. He made up his mind that it would
   be impossible to find salvation there.

   In process of time the erection of tents was completed, and the congregation
   gathered before the stand for the first preaching service. The sainted
   Wilber Fisk was in charge of the meeting. The preachers were called into the
   stand, and the service commenced. At the close of the sermon seekers were
   invited into the altar; and the troubled boy was among them. The same good
   old man who invited him into the prayer meeting was now to instruct him in
   the way of salvation There was quite a number of seekers and all were
   praying lustily. This completely absorbed his attention. As many others have
   done, he began to criticize, instead of praying. In relating this experience
   he says, “I thought, this cannot be the way to seek religion! Why can’t they
   be more calm and rational about it? Certainly they will never be able to
   think their way through amid so much noise and confusion! At least I can do
   nothing without a quiet time to think.” Speaking of this in his last days,
   he said, “How little did I understand that all reasoning or human planning
   was useless here!”

   But he soon saw that this apparently irrational way and this vociferous
   manner were successful; for some of the seekers were getting saved. As every
   other way with him had failed, he at last thought he would try this one. So
   he cried aloud, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.” but he was shocked and
   mortified at the sound of his own voice He did not find salvation in loud
   prayers, nor was he finally converted while praying. This effort to pray
   proved a good thing to him, however, in one respect; he was now fully and
   publicly committed to seek the Lord, his pride was humbled and he was fast
   getting down where Jesus could help him. He gave up all his experimenting
   and reasoning, and determined to take the narrow way at every cost.

   He soon left the altar and went out into the woods alone. Under a large tree
   he knelt and vowed to take Jesus for my only Saviour. Speaking of this
   experience, he says. “Instantly, as I ventured on Jesus, my burden was gone.
   I was filled with inexpressible delight, and before I was aware of what I
   was doing, was on my feet and shouting, “Glory God”! Shocked at this strange
   and almost spontaneous utterance. I said to myself “What does this mean? I
   had heard the Methodists say, “Glory to God,” but I don’t know what it
   means!” My burden was all gone. Everything around seemed vocal with the
   praises of God, and as the Indian said in similar circumstances. “The trees
   looked glad, and the birds sang glad, the world looked glad, and I felt
   glad.” All nature seemed in harmony, like a beautiful and well-tuned harp,
   and sang praises to the Most High. My heart could now beat time to the
   heavenly music I heard around, above, beneath, and within. But I had not the
   no distant idea that this was conversion. I thought some strange thing had
   happened to me. I had been sure that I would know when I was a Christian by
   a peculiar gloom that would settle down upon me. I had thought that a
   peculiar desolation of the heart and of the appearance of all things would
   attest that had obtained that for which I sought. I was desirous of
   attaining such an uncomfortable state, that I might be saved from the doubts
   and despair that hung over me. Bewildered at what had now taken place, and
   wishing to know what to do, I returned to the campground and asked an
   elderly lady who professed to be a Christian, “What do you think is the
   matter with me? My burden is all gone, and I can’t feel bad if I try; and I
   love God and everybody. I don’t know but I’ll have to be damned after all;
   but I can’t feel one fear.”

   “Why,” said she, “you are converted, and this is religion.”

   “But I thought that religion would make me feel gloomy!”

   “Oh no!” said she, “it makes people feel happy.”

   “Well,” said I to myself, “if this is religion, the world will now soon be
   converted for I shall tell it so plain that everybody will certainly believe
   and seek, and find it.”

   “So exalted did salvation seem, and so valuable, and so ardently did I
   desire the salvation of those around me, that I felt I could have laid down
   my life to impart salvation to the world. I now found elements in my soul,
   which by their aspirings, and exalted perceptions, and appreciative powers,
   “showed me to be in family alliance with the great Father. I would often
   say, “I am a child, an heir of God!” How astounding was the thought! How
   overwhelming! When I passed along the streets, after my return home, every
   sound and sight seemed, written all, over and vocal with, “Glory to God in
   the highest, forever.”

   He immediately went to work for others. Full of the hope of success, he
   approached a young man of his acquaintance and spoke to him on the subject
   of salvation. He says, “I expected to see his eye flash with hope, and to
   hear him exclaim, “Where! where! where may I find it?” and to find him ready
   to do anything to obtain it. But he turned upon me with a look of
   unutterable scorn, which seemed to say, “What! have you become a Methodist
   fool? Away with such stuff! I don’t want to hear a word about the silly
   subject.” I was taken all aback. I had expected the same kind of a reception
   that I would have had if I had brought to him the news of a gold mine, or
   that he had been selected for one of the highest officers of the state.”

   After the camp meeting young Redfield started for his home. He visited some
   relatives on the way, told them what the Lord had done for him, and urged
   them to seek the same salvation. But he seemed to them like one that mocked.
   He obtained permission to pray with one large family, and a short time after
   was made happy by the news that all had been converted. On the way home he
   told a young man who had also been converted at the same meeting, that for a
   long time he had desired, that he would make a start, that it might be
   easier for himself to do the same, and was surprised to find that this young
   man had experienced the same feeling with respect to him.

   When he reached home he set up the family altar in his father’s house. This,
   by some, was thought to be going too far; but the importance of the matter,
   and the danger in which he saw sinners, swallowed up all false propriety. In
   little while he had the privilege of seeing a large number of acquaintances
   starting out to go with him.

   He now began to go from house to house and from town to town, to carry the
   glad news of a Saviour. When engaged in this work he learned what he had not
   thought of before that the human heart hates God and dislikes those who love
   God; but he resolved to be the friend of God if it made every one his enemy.
   Referring to those labors, he says,

   I came to a house in my journey, and went in and asked of each inmate their
   religious state. The woman ordered me to leave. As I left, I said, ‘I am
   clear from all further obligation, and now I shake off the dust of my feet
   against you. I will meet you once more, in the judgment of the great day.’ I
   left, as I felt forbidden of God to stay. But the woman came to the door,
   and, until I was out of hearing, called for me to come back. But I followed
   my own impression and went on.”

   In the house of a Universalist he pressed the matter of personal and
   immediate salvation until the man’s patience gave out and he threatened him
   with violence. Being only about fifteen years of age, his youthful
   appearance made him friends who protected him. He here learned a lesson the
   people were forsaking their sins and seeking the Lord, and the Universalists
   were made angry by it, notwithstanding their boasted religion of love.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 2

   Dr. Wilber Fisk, who was a familiar guest at the home of the Redfields now
   began to take a great interest in this young worker, and suggested to his
   parents that he be sent to the Wilbraham Academy. The young man saw that the
   old subject of preaching was at the bottom of this; and that the course he
   was even then pursuing would lead him into that work sooner or later. Then
   all his old abhorrence and dread of that calling revived, and he resolved to
   quit the field at once. He says, “I had such views of the awful
   responsibility of a Christian minister that I dared not undertake it without
   the most positive evidence of my call. If I could have had that I would not
   have stopped to confer with flesh and blood. I felt, as it seems to me, like
   a man ignorant of navigation would feel if sent to take charge of a vessel
   freighted with human life, and liable to run into danger, not knowing when
   or where. This sense of responsibility was to me overwhelming.”

   This feeling never left him. Even in the days of his greatest success and
   pulpit power, he has been known to be unable to eat his breakfast when he
   was to preach in the morning; and he usually did not partake of supper until
   after preaching at night. The reader will see more and more how this feeling
   evoked his rebellion against God, and was the occasion of the most terrific
   mental sufferings. If his friends could have foreseen the fearful results of
   their anxiety and haste in reference to this matter, probably they would
   have taken a different course. How often is the same mistake made with the
   young and inexperienced!

   In the state of mind which has just been described, he returned home; but
   his peace and power with God were greatly diminished. He began to try to
   settle the question by mere reasoning. His youth, his limited knowledge his
   want of means for acquiring knowledge, and his sense of the weakness of all
   human effort, took on an importance in his consideration of the matter
   which, for the time, overshadowed the promises of help held out in the
   Bible. His Christian friends still unwisely beset him with their impressions
   of what his duty was. He says, “My own earlier impressions and those of my
   mother and the talks I had from time to time with Dr. Fisk, made me
   perfectly miserable. I think it was these influences, at this time, more
   than the voice of God, that caused it. My whole nature shrunk from occupying
   a position so sacred as that of the Christian ministry. Without the sanction
   of God, to me it was sacrilege. I now reasoned that my first impressions in
   this matter were the result of the influence of others upon me, and resolved
   to go among strangers, that I might be beyond the reach of this influence;
   and, further, so to commit myself by contract to the service of another, and
   he a stranger, as to make it impossible for me to engage in religious work.
   It seemed to me that I might, at least for a time, in this way secure a
   settled state of mind.”

   The gentleman whom he sought was an artist by profession, and noted for his
   proficiency. Without giving his reasons, young Redfield obtained the consent
   of his father to go, but hid the matter from his mother.

   He started on his journey, and when beyond the limits of his acquaintance
   was thankful to feel secure from the besetments of other people’s
   impressions. He called at the home of a minister to leave a letter that had
   been committed to his care. The minister was away, but his wife was at home.
   As he handed her the letter she looked him in the face and said “Tell me,
   are you not running away from God?”

   To this he replied: “I think, madam, that some one has been writing to you
   concerning me.”

   “O,” she replied, “I never saw or heard of you before; but as soon a I saw
   you I was impress that you were run away from your duty.” She then asked:
   “Will you please bring me a pail of water from the spring?” He could not
   well refuse to do this, but when it was done she asked him to cut her some
   wood. Before he was through with this this an old man came into the yard,
   attended by a girl. He had seen in the house when he first came. He was now
   invited into the house and introduced to the old man, who, he found, was a
   minister of the gospel. Now he saw that the woman had detained him purposely
   until this man could be brought. The minister was introduced as Father
   Liscomb. The old man informed young Redfield that he was holding a revival
   meeting in a little hamlet a short distance away, and desired him to go and
   see the young converts. To avoid any talk on the subject of duty he
   instantly said, “I will go,” but he secretly determined to leave the old
   gentleman at the first convenient opportunity.

   They soon started away together, and as they walked along he inquired the
   way, and the distance to W_____, his place of destination. This was given
   him, and they walked on until they came to a house. The old man knocked at
   the door, and was bidden to come in. As he passed in, young Redfield turned
   and ran towards some woods that lay between him and the place he desired to
   reach. It was a beautiful afternoon in September, the sun was about two
   hours high, and it was only five miles to W_____, by the woods road. About
   eighty rods brought him to the woods, and he entered them with
   congratulations at his nice escape. He lost his way and wandered about until
   night came on. His experience on this occasion is best related in his own
   words.

   He says: “I could not tell East from West, nor North from South. Soon I was
   wading in mud and water, stumbling over logs and running against trees,
   scaring up squirrels and wild creatures until I seemed to be surrounded with
   animals and reptiles which I could hear but not see. I at last felt I was
   contending with a power that was stronger than myself. My fears were so
   greatly aroused that I promised God if he would lead me out of the dreadful
   place I would take any course he might direct. In a moment I felt a gentle
   pull no stronger than a hair leading me, but I could not tell the direction.
   Soon I perceived I was out of the woods. I followed that leading until I
   found myself against a fence. I got over, crossing several fields and
   climbed as many fences, until I perceived by the feeling of my feet that I
   was in a road. While stopping to ascertain my whereabouts, I saw a light in
   a window a short distance away, and it proved to be at the very house where
   I met the old minister. The thought came a moment, if I return to the house
   the lady will only distress me by pressing upon me her convictions of what
   my duty is, and that I cannot bear. The next thought was, this is the direct
   road to W_____, and it is only seven miles there. There is now no fear of my
   getting lost, for the fences will guide me, and possibly by morning I may
   reach the place. By going tonight I shall avoid any further annoyance from
   the preacher’s wife. As I turned to go I saw the woman in the road as
   plainly as I had seen her the day before in the house. I asked, “Mrs.
   B_____, what time of night is it?” But she gave me no answer. Again, I
   asked, “Did you feel alarmed at my absence? and have you come out to look
   for me?’ Still she did not answer me. I then told her I had been lost, and
   was just out of my dilemma. I also told her that I desired she would say no
   more to me of duty, for I was too agitated to hear it. Yet she did not
   speak, and I thought, she is trying to frighten me into obedience to her
   opinion of what is my duty. I then said to her, “You will not frighten me
   for I am resolved never to preach until I am positive that God says, Go. I
   am going this night to W_____; so goodnight.” As I started she stepped in
   front of me. I turned to pass by her, and she stepped in front of me again.
   Again endeavored to pass by her, but again she stepped in front of me. I
   then said, “Madam, I thought you were a professor. “What will your neighbors
   think when they find your conducting yourself in this manner?”! Still I got
   no response from her. “You need not think to crowd me off the course you
   think I ought to go, by tricks of this kind,” I continued. Still she was
   silent. I was then seized with such fear that I turned and ran to the house;
   and as I entered, she sat there as if waiting for me. She immediately said,
   “I expected you would come back; for I prayed God to put my image before you
   as the angel appeared before Balaam.” “Well I thought it was you,” I said,
   and with this one sentence I exposed all the facts.

   “On looking I found it was twelve o’clock. I asked her for a place of rest
   for the remainder of the night. She gave me a light and told me where to
   find a room. I now resolved to get up and be off for W_____ before she could
   have a chance to annoy me in the morning. Notwithstanding the remarkable
   character of this experience, it seemed to me I was enduring great hardship.

   “I arose early as I had determined, but when I stepped into the
   sitting-room, which it was necessary for me to pass through, there she sat
   in a chair. I spoke first, and said, “Don’t say a word to me about duty, for
   I am resolved that no human influence shall determine my course. I shall go
   to W_____ today. I dare not allow myself to be prevailed upon to take so
   fearful a position as that of a gospel minister. So good morning.”

   “On attempting to open the outside door, I felt the force of a hand on the
   latch outside. I stepped back, and when the door opened, there stood a man,
   who, putting his hand upon my head, said to me, “Stop, Jonah! for you are
   running away from God.”

   “Said I, “You are in the secret, too! are you?”

   “I never saw or heard of you before this moment,” he replied. “I live four
   miles from here I am not a believer in dreams, but I had one last night, in
   which I was told to come to this house and here I would find a young man who
   was trying to run away from God. And I was told to tell you to go and preach
   the gospel or you would be damned.

   “I have come four miles to stop you.” “But I broke away and went on my
   journey.

   “I found the artist. He was willing to enter into a contract with me, but
   while I was talking with him, I was again seized with such fear, and with
   such a sense of guilt, that I dared not say a word more. I went out and left
   the place, nor dared look back until sure that I was out of sight of the
   town.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 3

   Returning home, young Redfield now resolved to live religion, but to abandon
   all thought of preaching, unless God by unmistakable signs should reveal it
   to him as his will. He passed the winter and the following summer in a
   restless and uncomfortable state of mind. He was continually mourning over
   his sad condition, and wondering why he should be the victim of such
   impressions, and yet have no certain evidence to settle the matter. He would
   allow none to speak to him in regard to it, and would seek counsel from
   none.

   Late in the fall he saw, in the western sky, an indescribable sign. The
   impression made upon him by it was, “That hangs over where God would have
   you go to labor.” But this distressed him still more. The thought of
   following such a sign was contrary to all his ideas of propriety in matters
   of such great concern. He reasoned that in a matter of such importance,
   where there is possibility of making a mistake, and that mistake liable to
   be a fatal one, he had a right to expect of God a reasonable and
   unmistakable evidence of his will. But in spite of all, “Woe is me if I
   preach not the gospel,” continually rang through his heart. Still, also,
   that sign hung in the sky, with the same impression of its import. At last
   he determined to ask for another to corroborate the first, but none came.
   His appetite and sleep forsook him, until in two months he was very much
   wasted. He became afraid that he might become insane. He had asked that an
   angel or a bird might come to him as an assurance that the sign he
   continually saw in that place in the sky was from God, or that an audible
   voice might speak to him, then he would obey it. Still the answer did not
   come. He at last resolved to seek for it by fasting and prayer. He set the
   day for the struggle, also determining to follow it by a watch-night. He
   expected that by twelve o’clock at night, a bird or angel, or voice would
   settle his doubts. The hour came, the town clock struck; he counted the
   strokes; it was twelve; but no bird, nor angel, nor voice came. He said to
   himself, “I am glad that I have gone through with my fast and watchnight.
   Now I can go to rest, and drop this terrible subject. The absence of the
   testimony I have asked for is sufficient to satisfy me that my impressions
   as to preaching, and that sign, are unreliable. I have been the dupe of
   hallucination.”

   An impression now came to him to open the Bible and see what light he could
   get from that. He says: “I opened it at random and let my finger touch
   without knowing where. On looking I found it on the words in Genesis 17:3:
   “Therefore, my son, obey my voice according to that which I command thee.”
   For a moment I was disturbed; but soon I reasoned: that was purely a happen
   so; I will try once more; I’ll reach far enough in opening not to touch the
   same spot again. I next put my finger on Deuteronomy 8:15: “But it shall
   come to pass if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God to
   observe to do all his commandments and his statutes which I command thee
   this day, that all these curses shall come upon thee and overtake thee.” I
   reasoned this away and tried again. This time my finger fell upon Jonah 3:2:
   “Arise, go unto Nineveh, that great city, and preach unto it the preaching
   that I bid thee.” This shook me greatly and well nigh upset all my hopes of
   finding relief but I reasoned: we are not under the Old Testament
   dispensation. I will venture to open in the New Testament. My finger now
   touched the quotation by the Saviour, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
   because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel,” etc. Filled with fear, I
   begged the Lord not to be angry with me, but to let me try once more, and I
   would not ask again. I opened and touched the words, “Go ye into all the
   world and preach the gospel to every creature.”

   Thus five times in succession did I touch upon the words that corroborated
   my impressions, and the impressions of others, but which were opposed to my
   opinions and desires. My soul was now upon the rack worse than ever. I could
   not rest, I could not sleep. It was in midwinter and very cold; but I went
   forth into the fields and woods to try a new place, in hope that God would
   send me a bird or angel or voice. I knelt in the snow and pleaded with God
   as a man would plead for his life to grant me such an answer as I desired
   but no answer of that kind came. I went from place to place until I reached
   the top of a hill in a grove. Here I knelt once more. While pleading there I
   had such a sense of the awful majesty and near approach of an offended God
   that my agony of body and soul became extreme and I thought I could not
   live. Instantly I cried out, ‘O God, remove this from me and I’ll go.’
   Immediately I was relieved; but soon my doubting heart said, ‘I’ve seen no
   bird, nor angel, nor heard a voice; how can I go?’ I went to a hilltop
   farther on, overlooking a swamp, knelt down, and continued in prayer for
   some time. When I tried to rise I found my clothing was frozen to the earth.
   So great had been my agitation that I had not thought of the cold. I pulled
   my knees loose, but found I could not rise until I had rubbed my limbs warm.
   At last, with great difficulty, I arose and started towards the house. I
   passed the spot where I felt the presence of God so painfully, and went down
   into a valley, and sat down on a log. Though still in great distress of
   mind, the impression came: “Stand still and see the salvation of God.” The
   next moment a bird came and alighted on my shoulder. I shook it off, but it
   came again. I then thought: I may be in its way. I arose, went to the top of
   another hill, and knelt in prayer again, under a pine tree. While thus
   engaged, a sound passed through the tree like that of a stiff breeze, but no
   wind seemed stirring. I listened and looked, but saw nothing. I arose and
   went home. It was morning, and my father, after building a fire, had gone to
   the barn. When I entered the room and came in contact with the warm air I
   became so faint that I dropped into a chair by the door, pale, haggard, and
   weak. My mother came into the room that moment, and seeing my distressed
   look, was frightened, and exclaimed, “Why, John what’s the matter?” I made
   out to answer, “Nothing, mother”; but perceiving my feelings about to betray
   me, I arose and went out into the cold again. When beyond hearing I gave
   vent to my anguish in loud sobbing and weeping.

   “I now determined to spend this day also in fasting and prayer, and conclude
   it with a watch-night. When twelve o’clock at night came again, it was with
   the same results. I then thought: I will turn to the word of God again. I
   opened to the words, “There shall no sign be given.” As this spoiled all
   prospect of sleep, I went out into the fields again. I said to myself: There
   is that sign still in the sky. Reason says: I must be under a religious
   hallucination; but, true or false, I cannot settle the matter of duty or
   shake it off. My body is worn down; my mind is almost distracted. I must
   either go deranged or die. There is but one thing I can do, that is, to go
   to the place and test the matter. I had no sooner resolved to go than, cold
   as it was, I was all in a glow of warmth, and as happy as I could bear.

   “I could not tell any one my feelings. I returned to the house. It was now
   daylight. I entered the parlor and went to a bureau in which my linen was
   kept, and commenced to pack a small bundle to take with me. While thus
   engaged, my sister Mary, then living at home, came into the room and with
   streaming eyes handed me a Bible and hymn-book, and said: “Brother John, the
   victory is gained.” I could contain no longer; I broke forth in convulsed
   sobbing and weeping, but said not a word. She afterwards told me that she
   knew at this time, all about my struggle, and was engaged in secret prayer
   for me all the time; and also that she knew the very moment when it was
   over, though she was in the house and I quite a distance away. I had
   supposed all the time that none but God and I knew anything about it.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 4

   Taking only a small bundle with him, and without saying farewell, he started
   out to seek the place designated by the sign. He intended to take a straight
   line to the place, regardless of roads. His joy was now unspeakable. When he
   opened the door to start, a young man stood before it, who asked, “Where are
   you going?” He could only say, “I am going west.” Said the stranger, “Wait a
   minute and you can ride with me. The invitation was accepted, but with the
   determination to ride with him only as long as his course was toward that
   sign. All day they rode in a westerly direction. Just at sundown, as they
   reached the bottom of a hill, the driver turned to a road leading south, and
   the sign disappeared. Young Redfield said not a word, but thought, “The
   mystery is solved. I have been following a phantom.” He asked the young man
   to stop and let him get out, as he desired to take the road to the right.
   That led to the west. The stranger answered: “You had better go to the top
   of the hill, and stop there at the house of an old minister until morning,
   as it will be a long way before you will find a stopping place on that
   road.” He accepted the suggestion and went on. When they reached the house
   the young man knocked at the door and they were bidden to come in. The
   minister and his family were standing around the table and had been about to
   say grace over their evening repast, after the manner of that day. As the
   old man looked upon young Redfield the tears filled his eyes, and it was
   some moments before he could control his emotions. At last he said, “This
   young man must stop with me. God showed me in a dream sometime ago that you
   were coming to help me on my circuit. I never saw you before except in my
   dream, and when you came I instantly recognized you.” On taking a seat Mr.
   Redfield opened his hymn-book to the verse,


   “Master, I own thy lawful claim,

   Thine, wholly thine, I long to be;

   Thou seest at last I willing am,

   Where’er thou goest to follow thee.

   Myself in all things to deny,

   Thine, wholly thine to live and die.”

   He says, “I now felt myself fully committed to do God’s will, although I
   kept and pondered these things in my heart. The heavenly sweetness and
   calmness which took possession of my soul, I have no words to describe.”

   The old preacher took him on to a part of his circuit where Universalism was
   a great obstacle in the way of the work. He commenced his work here in the
   same way in which he had previously labored, by visiting from house to
   house. He met with opposition and threats of personal violence, but the more
   he labored the more he felt the value of souls, and the importance of his
   mission. When threatened, he would reply, “My message is from God to you,
   and I shall not, I dare not, disobey him. It is at your peril if you do not
   heed it,” and with tears running down his face he would insist upon a
   definite answer to his appeals. Sometimes amid threats he would kneel and
   pray, presenting the case of each person present to God. On rising he would
   take them by the hand, when they would allow it, and tell them, “I am here
   in the name of the great God. I have done my duty faithfully. Farewell, I
   will meet you again in the judgment.”

   He would leave them in various moods. Sometimes penitent and sometime in a
   rage. “Yet,” he says, “I do not remember a single instance where they did
   not send for me within twenty-four hours, to come and pray for them.”

   One afternoon, two Methodist ministers called and asked him to visit a Mr.
   B_____, a Universalist, by whose influence the revival was much hindered.
   They had both been to see him, but could not convince him of his error. One
   of them said, “I have used the arguments of Fisk and Fletcher, and yet
   nothing shakes his confidence in Universalism.” Young Redfield said, “I will
   ask the Lord about it.”

   “That night he was instructed in a dream to visit the Universalist, and also
   as to how to approach him, and by what method he should endeavor to draw his
   attention to the great importance of attending immediately to the matter of
   his personal salvation. The next morning early, he proceeded to the man’s
   house, and, on entering, said to him: “I have a message from the great God
   to you, and that is, you must repent and seek salvation or you will be
   damned.”

   Said he, “I don’t believe in your damnation doctrine.”

   Without attempting to reply the young man asked, “Will you obey God and shun
   damnation?”

   Again Mr. B_____ tried to avoid answering, but young Redfield said, “My
   message is from God; will you obey it?”

   At this the man became very angry and ordered him out of his house,
   threatening him with a beating if he did not go.

   Mr. Redfield replied: “You strike me at the peril of God’s displeasure; for
   the God who has sent me on this errand of mercy will certainly stand by me
   and defend me. So touch me if you dare. I am on God’s business.”

   The Universalist’s wife now exclaimed, “Oh! will you pray for me?” with
   tears. He instantly knelt, and both the man and his wife knelt with him. God
   so far broke his opposition that his influence for evil from this time was
   checked.

   The work of God soon broke out with power, and swept over all that section.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 5

   After a short time, the sign appeared again, directing him to another field.
   Yet he secretly resolved to go home. Carelessly he signified this intention
   to one who immediately said: “I should think you would be afraid the
   judgments of God would follow you.” The following morning, as he was making
   preparations to go home, he was suddenly seized with great pain, and to find
   relief, he consented to obey God. As soon as the pain was gone, however, he
   made another attempt to return home. He finished dressing, and reached the
   top of the stairs, when the same agony of body again came on, and with it
   the impression, “If you do not consent, you will die and be lost.” He says:
   “I then told the Lord if he would relieve me, I would go, and instantly I
   was free from pain, and as happy as I could be.”

   “After breakfast,” he continues, “I started. It was very cold, and the snow
   was deep, but I went on, singing, “December’s as pleasant as May.” I visited
   every house as I went, warning the people to flee from the wrath to come. My
   name and manner of work had gone before me, and some were so much afraid of
   me that they left their houses at my approach.

   “When I reached the place of my destination, I was led to go to the class
   leaders first. The day had been too severe for the children to attend
   school, and they were all at home. I asked the father and mother: “Are you
   on the way to heaven?’ The father replied: “We trust we are.” Said I: “God
   has sent me to tell you that you are on the road to hell. and you will
   certainly be lost unless you repent and seek the pardon of your sins.” I had
   no sooner spoken than the tears began to stream down my face; but my words
   aroused a turbulent spirit within him, and with vehemence he ordered me out
   of the house. I told him I could not go until I had obeyed my instructions
   from God. “Then,” said he, “I’ll use means to get you out,” and he seemed
   about to raise a chair to strike me. I said to him: “You will strike me at
   your peril while I am delivering God’s message to you.” I then turned to the
   children and asked them: “Do you wish to go to hell with your father and
   mother?’ With tears, they said: “No, sir.” I asked: “Will you kneel down
   while I pray for you? You need not fear that your father will hurt me, for
   God will defend me.” Down they knelt, and that brought their parents to
   their knees, and they began in good earnest to seek God. When I arose, the
   man and his wife began to confess their backslidings, and invited me to stay
   for the night. This I did, but feeling in the morning that my work was done
   in that place, I returned. The class leader went to work for God, and was
   the means of reviving the work of the Lord in that neighborhood.”

   Soon after his return, he met the preacher in charge, who informed him that
   it was the desire of the presiding elder that he unite with the church, be
   licensed to preach and take regular work on a circuit. To this he finally
   consented, and went to the next quarterly meeting. The elder preached as
   usual at the Saturday service, and held the quarterly conference immediately
   after. While the congregation was passing out, and the members of the
   conference were waiting for it to become quiet, the elder related a
   ridiculous story that produced boisterous laughter, in which he joined; and
   when it was at its height, he said, “Let us pray,” and immediately led in
   prayer. The effect of this upon young Redfield can best be given in his own
   words:

   “This was too much for my sensitive conscience, and the devil took the
   advantage of it by setting me to reasoning thus: “Does this man believe the
   Bible? Did Jesus set such an example of trifling in the presence of a
   perishing world? Is it true that sinners are now passing away, every hour,
   to the judgment? Is this like Paul, who for the space of three years, night
   and day, with tears, labored for the salvation of sinners? Am I in a
   hallucination? Am I wild, or blind? Be it as it may be, all I can see from
   my standpoint is the Saviour of the world, staggering under a world’s sin,
   while its masses in proud procession are on their way to eternal night. If
   the Bible is true, the world is on the eve of a terrible catastrophe, and
   about to pass into eternity unprepared. I can hardly stop to sleep lest men
   be lost while I am at rest. There must be a mistake somewhere, and it is
   quite probable I am the one that is mistaken. The elder is a man of years,
   and in all probability when young was as zealous and ardent as I am, but he
   has found that religion is a sham, and now continues to preach for the
   profit it is to him. I will never accept of a license until I settle the
   question for myself of the truth or falsity of the Christian religion.”

   He refused the license, and after the quarterly meeting went home to his
   father’s house. In after years he could look back and see that here was the
   great mistake of his life. He says: “Little did I dream that I had
   undertaken one of the most absurd tasks imaginable. I might as well have
   attempted to solve a question in algebra, by the principles of music, or the
   science of astronomy by the rules of grammar, as to attempt to solve the
   problems of religion by the light of reason. However, I began the attempt.
   But I again found myself beset with people who would urge upon me their
   impressions of my duty to go into the gospel field. To get rid of this
   annoyance, I again resolved to go where I was not known. My motives for
   going I kept a secret, lest I should involve others in my perplexity.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 6

   In the peculiar state of mind described in the foregoing chapter, young
   Redfield again left home, going about a hundred miles from where he was
   known. In less than a fortnight after his arrival at his new destination,
   however, he was questioned about the duty of preaching. This caused him to
   leave again. This time he chose a place where he felt sure he would not be
   annoyed by anything of that kind, but here he found old acquaintances who
   raised the question, within a week. Then he left again, resolved not to
   profess religion at the next place, nor to have anything to say on the
   subject, thinking in that way to avoid the annoyance. Soon after this he
   found himself beset with infidel notions; and at last his faith in
   Christianity utterly gave way. He could now get along comparatively well in
   the daytime, but his nights would be filled with dreams of preaching, and so
   overcome in his feelings would he be, that on waking he would find his
   pillow wet with tears. He now began to believe that he had been the dupe of
   deception through all his strange course. To end the matter once and for all
   he finally resolved to ask God to take away the conviction of duty, even if
   it was from him. He had heard of a man who did that, and who was instantly
   relieved, never to have the feeling come back. He now experienced the same
   relief. In after years, when looking back with horror upon this passage in
   his life, he could only account for the after return of the Spirit by
   referring it to the prayers and intercessions of his mother. He says:

   “I felt the Holy Spirit leave me as plainly as I ever felt the taking off of
   my coat; and yet with no greater alarm than at the loss of a penny. To me,
   now, infidelity was a fact, and right in its wake came downright atheism.
   For as soon as I resolved to settle all theological questions by my external
   senses, a vague uncertainty came over everything. Nature’s laws were all the
   God I could find, and the mere notion that a given system of religion might
   be true was the utmost my reason could conjecture. It now seemed to me that
   all the phenomena of religious emotion, of mental and moral changes, were
   due to laws within us, and beyond our control. Now, the funeral pall of
   annihilation settled down upon me, and I could see nothing but darkness and
   desolation. Man and earth seemed orphaned. I sought in anatomy, physiology,
   and philosophy for testimony to clear this up, and, if possible, give me a
   single fact to settle my distracted mind. One favorite haunt of mine during
   this period was an ancient Indian burying ground. Some of the graves were
   entirely gone, washed away by the high waters of an adjoining stream; others
   were partly gone, the dark sands of which gave traces of the bodies which
   had been laid there to rest several hundred years before. A few seashells,
   flint arrowheads and hatchets, and beads were all that bore testimony that
   these bodies had ever lived. In contemplation of these things my whole soul
   would cry out, while the suffocation of death seemed to be upon me, “O God,
   if there be a God, send me to the hell of the Bible, but don’t annihilate
   me.” It seemed to me at such times that I could have died a hundred deaths
   if that would have made the Christian doctrines true, and have run my
   chances of heaven or hell.

   I now commenced the systematic study of anatomy, for the purpose of
   ascertaining whether man had a conscious, thinking, acting, soul,
   independent of the body, or whether a fortuitous combination of matter in
   conjunction with material laws might not produce the phenomena we observe;
   and therefore these phenomena cease with the combination. Among other works,
   treating upon this subject, I met with Paley’s Natural Theology Illustrated,
   which gave a sober, commonsense, bias to my mode of reasoning. As a result
   of this I was cured of atheism and infidelity. I now saw the fogs of doubt
   all clear away, and the doctrine of the nature, operations, independence,
   and perpetuity, of the human soul, redeemed from all doubt, and established
   upon solid foundations.”

   While he was passing through all this, his mother, hearing of his infidelity
   and abandonment of religion and all thought of entering the Christian
   ministry, became very sad and would not be comforted. Not only were her
   hopes, but her faith also was involved with his. In his failure, she saw all
   her hopes concerning him, from his infancy, dashed to the ground. She pined
   away, and nearly lost her mind in mourning over him. She became so weak,
   that she would stop strangers as they passed her door, and ask them in
   plaintive tones, “Have you seen my son, John? Where is he? and what is he
   about?” Only as a pious mother could, she kept his case before God, and
   quite likely it was in answer to her prayers that he was finally brought
   back not only to Christ, but into the work of soul-saving, for which he
   became so eminent.

   He says, “During the period of my infidelity, I saw and believed that human
   nature needed some kind of religion to restrain it from injuring society.
   For this reason I would attend church, read prayers with the congregation,
   to cultivate a moral tone. I reasoned: If there be a God, and the Bible
   proves true, it is best to be fitted for any possible emergency that may
   arise, even if not contemplated by the Bible. If there is no God, or only
   such an one as the deranged condition of nature reveals; if we have nothing
   to hope beyond the grave, not even the guarantee of an abstract existence,
   the uncertainty is terrible.”

   In after years, he would say, “Men may talk of annihilation as a possible
   fact, and regard the theory as a light affair; but let them stand where I
   have stood, by the graves of the long forgotten dead, and in imagination
   pass down the vista of coming time, and think: “With all my longing for
   life, I must lie down in the dust and darkness of the tomb, and let the
   rusty centuries fold over my head, till ages have passed and gone, and I
   sleep on still as these have slept, who now lie here in a common ruin,
   forgotten and forever gone! Poor nameless dust, who lived, hoped, feared;
   made as they thought ample provision for life in the spirit land; yet all in
   vain!” and they will cry out, as I have cried, “O God, spare me at least a
   bare existence.” No! I would know the truth, however unwelcome it may be.”

   His study of anatomy, under the tutorship of an eminent physician, was
   continued after his return to faith, and laid the foundation for his future
   practice of medicine. This struggle with unbelief, and the various lines of
   investigation that it led him to undertake, in mental and moral philosophy,
   as well as in the physical sciences, was a valuable training for the
   especial work to which he was called. Every phase of unbelief, mental and
   moral difficulty seems to have been reviewed by him, not simply by reading,
   but by personal investigation, until it seemed that no obstacle of that kind
   could stand before him. “Questions of magnetism, clairvoyance, and much of
   what now passes for spiritualism,” were carefully studied by him at that
   early period (between 1830 and 1840). The perfect ease and simplicity with
   which, in the days of his power, he would remove the difficulties of doubt
   and solve the problems of conscience, was an astonishment to those who
   listened to him. From the foregoing account may be seen how these problems
   were worked out in the fierce struggles of his own early experience.

   Concerning the period in which he was pursuing these studies he says:
   “During this period my former experience in the Christian life was not taken
   into account. It furnished me with no help whatever. And even after this
   struggle was over, and I began to seek my personal salvation again, at first
   it did not occur to me that I had once been a Christian. I commenced
   entirely anew. When I set about it in good earnest I purposed to do it among
   a people that I thought would not annoy me about preaching. But here I found
   myself mistaken again. Scarcely had I obtained a little light on
   experimental religion before the minister whose church I attended, met me in
   the street one day and made an appointment with me to meet him at his house
   at a certain time. When the time came, fearing it was the old subject that
   was coming up, I did not go. When I met him again, he expressed his
   disappointment at my failure to come, and set another time for me. When the
   time came I went, and my fears proved true. Said he: “I have little
   confidence in impressions, but I wish to know for my own satisfaction if you
   have ever been called of God to preach. I wish you to give me a direct
   answer.” In my soul I cried out, “My God! am I found out here also?’ I then
   frankly answered: “I have.” But I stated to him that there were barriers now
   in my way, the principal one of which was a promise to marry. This barrier I
   had placed in the way some time before. My object was to create an
   obligation that would prevent me from entering the ministry. This proved to
   be another great mistake of my life. I was soon made to know how surely God
   could confront me, how terribly he could chastise me, and how intensely I
   could be made to suffer.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 7

   The bitter and sorrowful experience occasioned by his rash marriage
   engagement will be related in Mr. Redfield’s own words. Speaking of this
   matter, he says:

   “Gladly would I suppress this chapter of my life, were it not for the fact
   that the cause of Christ has suffered from the misrepresentations of it that
   have gone forth to the world. I might have told my story long ago and saved
   myself much misunderstanding, but I wished not to appear as the revealer of
   my family sorrows. If I had spoken, my enemies would have made capital of
   that, as they have made capital of my silence. Now at the close of my life I
   feel free to speak. I shall withhold much of the worse, and only state
   enough to give a specimen of what I have suffered. I ask the candid reader
   to make the case his own, and then ask himself if he would have done better.
   I have not borne all this in silence and alone, refusing to accept of that
   relief, which making known the facts would have given me, and making them
   known now in order to gain sympathy. It is too late for that; my only object
   is to correct unjust imputations on the cause for which I have labored. I
   must, as a last act of my life, do this. What I now give to the world of
   this unfortunate affair, is all that it will ever get, unless circumstances
   shall compel me to give more.

   “I married one whom I thought would make me a happy home. I hired me a house
   at the desire and with the approval of my wife, but within three weeks was
   compelled to abandon it. I found she was no more fit than a child to take an
   interest in or care for a home. I saw no other way than to board. I could
   find but one place where I thought it at all proper to board, and that was
   at her own father’s home. But he soon told me I must take her away for he
   could no longer endure her. I hired another house. To make it at all
   possible to keep house I was obliged to hire housekeepers, but it was only
   to have them turned away as fast as I could hire them. In one week I hired
   six in succession and all were turned away within that time. I next sent for
   my sister, who came and tried to make my home tolerable; but in a few days I
   was compelled to permit her to go elsewhere to board until she could arrange
   to go home.

   “I next tried to get along by doing the housework myself and hide from the
   world my misfortune; but neglecting to keep my doors fastened, I was caught
   doing my own cooking. When asked of the whereabouts of my wife, I could not
   tell, for I did not know. The fact of my being alone and doing my own
   cooking soon reached the ears of her parents, who, mortified by their
   daughter’s conduct, attempted to bring about a reform. I had kept all this
   to myself, not even telling them. Her father, learning that she often came
   to his home, and left me to do the work in mine, forbade her coming again
   without me. Of this I was ignorant for a long time.

   “Late one night she told me she was going home and I must accompany her. I
   replied: “It is late, and your people will be in bed. I cannot go and
   disturb them, as there is no urgent need.” I then locked the door, put away
   the key and went to bed.

   “I was soon aroused by the fall of a window. I immediately arose, and saw
   she was out of the house, and with a light in her hand was passing through
   the back way, going to her father’s house. I knew now there was fresh
   trouble for me. So, I staid up awaiting the results. I soon heard a heavy
   knock at the door. I went to it, opened it, and asked who was there and what
   was wanted. It was her father. Said he, “I will see if you are going to turn
   my daughter out of doors.” I had no light, and he tried to find me in the
   darkness. I knew by the tone of his voice that he was greatly exasperated,
   and determined to commit violence upon me. I ran into the parlor, and he
   followed. “Be quiet and calm, until can explain to you,” I said. But he was
   too excited to hearken to reason, and only knew my whereabouts when I spoke.
   I could hear his footsteps and thereby I kept out of his way. Thus I
   continued to avoid him until he so far cooled down as to pass out and go
   home. I then closed and fastened the door, fully resolved that I would never
   submit to have her return until the matter was fully understood and settled.
   I cooked my breakfast when the morning came, and went out to my business.

   “About 10 o’clock she came and asked my forgiveness, and desired me to give
   her the key to the house. I told her she could not have the key until the
   last night’s difficulties were settled. “Well,” said she, “go down home with
   me and I will confess it all.” So down we went to her parents’ house. We
   found them in a very unpleasant mood. I spoke to her mother, calling her by
   that title. She said, “Don’t you call me mother as long as you treat my
   daughter as you have.”

   “I replied, “Let your daughter tell her own story then.”

   “I then asked her, “Did I turn you out of doors?”

   “She answered, “No, sir.”

   “Did you not leave the house when I was asleep?’ “Yes, sir.”

   “Did I know you were going?”

   “No, sir.”

   “Did you not climb out of the window as still as possible, so as not to
   awaken me?”

   “Yes,”

   “Then,” asked her parents, “why did you say to us, that he turned you
   out?”

   “She answered, “Because you told me never to come home again unaccompanied
   by my husband, unless he should turn me out of doors. I made up the story so
   you would let me stay.”

   “Now the whole indignation turned against her, until she called upon me to
   protect her. I felt sorry for her father, for if he got the right of a
   matter he had generosity and Christianity enough to induce him to do right.
   I could but feel that through this whole affair he was an honorable and
   right-minded man.

   “I now permitted her to return. But the same state of things continued.

   “Next I was suddenly called upon by a church committee to investigate
   matters that could not be tolerated longer. I said to them “Go on and find
   out all you can, for I am ignorant of the object of your investigation.”

   “I permitted her to tell her own story uncorrected. They found it entirely a
   matter of misrepresentation. She confessed the whole to be false. She had
   reported that I would not make any provision for her wants. That I had
   starved her by not providing the necessaries of life. When the committee
   found plain bread, meat, and all kinds of provisions in abundance, her
   mother greatly mortified, asked her how long these things had been in the
   house, she answered,

   “I have never been out of them.”

   “Then, what could you mean thus to report what is false?”

   “Oh!” said she, “I wanted some oysters, and he said he could not find them,
   and I didn’t believe him.” The committee knew it was the season when there
   were none in the market.

   “Again, her mother, deeply mortified, upbraided her severely, when she
   turned to me for protection, saying, “I wonder how you can live with me?”

   “I was exonerated by the committee of course, and one of them said to me,
   “No one can blame you if you leave that woman, for such conduct is past all
   forbearance.”

   “But all I could do was to wait for deliverance in God’s time. Nothing but
   the consciousness that I was enduring the result of my own disobedience made
   my case endurable. And my conscientiousness would not allow me to take legal
   steps to get rid of her.

   “I was now taken violently sick, and was brought nigh unto death. It was the
   first of the cholera season, and I was the only one afflicted with the
   disease in that section who survived. I passed into what is called the stage
   of collapse; but I felt, I have not yet done my work, and I cannot die. I
   then felt, I shall not die. Shortly after this I was restored to health.

   “Still my family trouble continued. Now and then my wife would have a
   religious streak. One night after making a great disturbance and giving me a
   terrible scolding, she suddenly turned upon me and commanded me to pray as
   her father prayed. To this I replied, “I cannot think of mocking God by any
   mixture of prayer with such wicked and violent manifestations of temper.” I
   saw she took it in ill part, but I thought it best to drop the matter and go
   to rest, still keeping a disguised but vigilant watch of her. When she
   supposed me to be asleep, I saw her come near enough to me to get a clear
   view of me and how and where I lay. She then took the light and set it back
   so it would not shine in my face. I could see her movements, however, all
   the better. She then went to the fireplace and took up a pair of heavy
   brass-mounted tongs, and taking a good hold of them with both hands, she
   came softly within a few feet of me, and then darted upon me with great fury
   and began to strike with heavy blows at my head. Having seen the whole
   operation, I was prepared for it; and by holding the bedclothes over my face
   and head, I received the blows upon my arms.

   “For some time after, I felt I had reason to fear much more violence from
   her. I kept up a vigilant watch, but unbeknown to any one else. I could not
   inform even her own parents of this, much less others.

   “Several times, by accident or intentionally, she burned up her dresses, and
   then came to me and demanded more. I think her mother must have known that
   she burned them; for once she came to me and asked me to furnish her with
   one or two cheap ones to keep peace. Then when I did this the mother made a
   fuss about it, and went among their relatives with a subscription to buy her
   daughter a more expensive suit, declaring that I refused to dress her in a
   becoming manner.

   “When my friends came to see me she would tell them to leave for they could
   not be harbored there. My troubles had now become so great, and having none
   to whom I could tell them, I cried, “O Lord, my punishment is greater than I
   can bear.” I was unfit for business, and in short was so broken in spirit
   that I could not attend to business as it was necessary to do, and was
   obliged to fail. I gave up all I had to the last chair and spoon. I had
   nothing left. I could not hire a room, nor would my wife stay if I did.

   There was only one place where I could procure shelter for the night, and
   that was her father’s house. What to do or where to turn was more than I
   could tell. I might have found some employment, but no place for permanent
   board, as no one would board my wife. Her father would only engage to board
   her until we could leave town and rid them the mortification to which they
   were subject on her account. I believe they felt truly sorry for me when
   they saw me in this distressed condition. They advised me to take up some
   business with which I could travel and hoped that my wife being among
   strangers might do better. I borrowed money enough to get out of town, and
   went where she was not known, and soon procured a place to board; but
   shortly I saw from the deportment of the people that something was amiss. I
   knew my only way was to keep perfectly still and wait for matters to
   develop. We had staid in this place about four weeks when the lady of the
   house informed me that we could not stay longer. I found this had come from
   misrepresentations of me. I had known it was going on, but I had thought it
   best not to attempt to correct it until I was compelled to; for I utterly
   despised the man who would reveal the afflictions to which he was subjected
   by a bad wife. When the truth came out the lady of the house expressed her
   sympathy for me, and said “You are welcome to stay as long as you please,
   but I cannot have my house so disturbed by that woman; you must take her
   away.” I secured another place but could stay only one week. I then procured
   a team and took her some thirty or forty miles away among strangers again. I
   found a place in a genteel family. Here we staid twelve weeks.

   “I soon saw that something was going wrong, but waited again for
   developments to indicate my course of action. It continually became more
   evident that my time was coming to a close. One day the lady said to me:
   “Such has been the reports by your wife concerning you that I have believed
   you to be a bad man. But I have found out where the trouble lies, and though
   I deeply sympathize with you in your affliction, yet, we can endure her no
   longer.” Of course I expected this, and I could not blame them for turning
   me into the street. What to do I could not tell; houseless and homeless, and
   almost without money and no place to get board where my wife was known, I
   must leave town to find a place for shelter. So we took stage to a place
   about fifty miles away. Here we got board in a public house; but after only
   a few hours she positively refused to stay a day or a night. Now I did not
   know what to do. Finally I said to myself: ‘I will try one more experiment;
   I will take her to my father’s house; her own father will not take her, and
   every boarding house refuses to keep her or bear with her. I took the next
   stage and brought her to my father’s. I went on some fifty miles farther,
   and here my funds were exhausted and I was in great distress of mind though
   I managed to hide my sufferings from others. I soon found that my good old
   father and mother could not endure her conduct, and they told me I should
   not live with such a woman. I felt this was my last experiment and if this
   failed the Lord knows I don’t know what to do next. I saw nothing but agony
   and the poorhouse as the final winding-up of my calamity. My spirit utterly
   sank within me. I was advised to leave her and get a bill of divorcement
   from her; but while I was in this suspense, and wondering what to do next,
   all at once she resolved to go home to her father’s house and demanded the
   money to go with. My funds were exhausted, but she insisted on going, and
   actually started on foot for a hundred miles through mud and snow. When I
   found she was fully bent on going I went after her, and promised to see if I
   could send her in any way. So I sold my watch to pay for the hire of a horse
   to carry her home. I took care not to go myself. Now I felt a little relief
   at being free for a short time of my trouble. Very soon, however, a letter
   came from her father saying she was very penitent and sorry for having left
   me, and would promise to change her conduct if I would take her back. I
   wrote back that I had suffered enough, and tried experiments enough, and I
   could do no more. I felt that the last bond of attachment had snapped, and
   that if the offense of not living with her should bring me to the state’s
   prison I would go there.

   “In the spring I started for the West. I passed through the place where her
   father lived, and where she then was; but I could not bear the thought of
   seeing her. So I passed on about three hundred miles, and located in
   Lockport, N. Y. After I was settled, I wrote to her father, to let him know
   where I was, and to inquire after the wretched woman. And now he beset me to
   take her back, saying he believed she would behave herself. I wrote back
   that I had no confidence in her reform, and could on no condition take her
   back. I was finally overcome by his entreaties, however, and thought it
   might be possible after all that she would do better, as she had professed
   to become religious. So I wrote him that he might bring her about half way,
   and I would meet him and her there, and would make one more trial. I went in
   due time to the place and found them there. I took her to my place of
   residence and to make all as favorable as possible for a successful trial we
   went to a first-class hotel to board. We staid one night only when she
   pointblank refused to stay any longer. So off I went and found a private
   boarding house. Before the week ended she was turned out into the street.
   The lady of the house forbade her returning on any terms. She said to me,
   “You are an unfortunate man, and are welcome here as long as you wish to
   stay; but that woman must not come in at all. A lady of the place helped us
   to obtain another boarding place, and we found shelter for the night. We had
   staid here but a few weeks when I was again warned to leave. I pleaded to be
   permitted to stay from day to day until I could write to her father and ask
   what could be done.

   “The lady of the house told me she was a bad woman, for she had seen men
   follow her off into by-places. I could not say anything in her defense for I
   had found her once in the embrace of one of the boarders, and another who
   thought me to be away came in the night to my room. He tried to excuse
   himself as best he could, but I believe him to have been none too pure for
   the commission of great evil. I told her how improperly she was acting, in
   taking such liberties, when she gave me to understand that she should do as
   she pleased without my consent.

   “Not knowing what to do or where to go, I was nearly distracted. I was again
   informed that she must leave the house. Suddenly she said she would go home
   to her father’s; and I must take her to the boat, about fifteen miles away.
   I did so, but when we arrived at the place the boat was gone and no other
   would go until the next week. I must take her back; but there was no place
   to stay for a single night, except at a public house. I thought I will at
   least have one more night in which to contrive what course next to take. In
   the morning we started back to the place we had left, and she promised to
   let me take a room and keep house, and she would not leave me; but just
   before we entered the village, she suddenly resolved she would not stay, but
   would go home at once, and I must take her that night to Rochester where she
   could take the cars. I knew it was useless to attempt to persuade her to
   stay even for the night. So I borrowed the money and we left that night in
   the stage. When we arrived at Rochester, I gave her the money to pay her
   fare all the way home. As soon as she had gone I felt such a sense of relief
   that I fainted, and could with great difficulty stagger along to a place
   where I could lie down. A high nervous fever set in, and for fifteen days I
   was not able to be moved. A physician, like a good Samaritan attended me
   faithfully, whom I owe a debt of gratitude which I can never pay. I sank
   lower and lower until I was near death. Two consulting physicians came to
   visited me. They told my nurse, I must die, and they most make ready to bury
   me in two days. They told the people where I was staying that my sickness
   must have been caused by some deep trouble. I knew not their decision, but I
   saw them leave me to my fate.

   “The old subject of duty now came up, and I inwardly felt, God will not
   permit me to die; I shall live to preach the gospel. At once I began to
   mend. In a few days after they left me to die I walked into the doctor’s
   office. They stared at me as though I had come out of the grave. They then
   told me the conclusion of their council.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 8

   No way is so long but that it has an end, and no night is so dark but that
   the dawn of day at last dispels the darkness. Even so the end of some of Mr.
   Redfield’s sorrowful experiences was drawing near, and better days were soon
   to dawn upon his pathway, as the sequel, related in his own words, will
   show. Continuing the narrative, he says:

   “When I was able to ride, I returned to the place of my late residence. My
   long absence had induced the people to believe that I had run away, and the
   man with whom I boarded had taken all my possessions, with an absconded
   debtor’s writ. When he learned the cause of my prolonged absence, however,
   he returned me all my property without cost. Next I was waited upon by a
   committee from the church to know how my moral character stood. I learned
   that I had been accused of keeping a bad woman in town under pretense that
   she was my wife; that I had never been married to her; and that I knew her
   to be corrupt. But I was able to convince the committee that I was indeed
   unfortunate but not criminal; that I was indeed married. I was at once
   restored to the confidence of the church.

   “A lawyer learning the circumstances of my misfortune, came to me and
   offered to procure me a divorce free of expense. But my lacerated, timid
   spirit could not consent to go through all the details of litigation.

   “Now that I was free from this great trouble, my former impressions of duty
   came upon me with redoubled force, and I longed for an abode away from the
   busy world of mankind, and resolved to find me a home like a hermit in the
   wilderness, where I might serve God, commune with nature, and at last lay my
   bones to rest in some lonely place unseen and unknown by man. I did go into
   rooms by myself, and but for neglected duty, which it seemed to me must now
   be forever abandoned, I should have been comparatively happy; but it seemed
   to me that my afflictions must prove an obstacle in my way. I thought,
   everybody will find out that I have had family trouble and will feel at
   liberty to make out of it what capital they please; and how can I preach
   when I am thus marked with suspicion? I could have set all things right in
   the eyes of the honest and well-meaning, but I could not bear to go over the
   facts of my sufferings for that purpose. No! I must forever abandon the idea
   of preaching. Yet, I must meet God at last and answer for the neglect of
   duty. Night and day, for a number of years, I silently brooded over my sad
   state, and tried all means in my power to banish the scorpion stings of a
   guilty conscience. “You knew your duty but did it not,” constantly rang in
   my ears. A large portion of my time I spent in the grove near by weeping
   before God.

   “I would sometimes go to the church on Sunday, but the sight of a gospel
   minister would make me writhe with agony, and compel me to leave. I would
   then resort to the woods and there weep and pray for deliverance. Yet I kept
   this all buried in my heart. If I saw a minister in the street my eyes would
   follow him as long as I could see him, and, choked with emotion, I would
   sigh over my own unhappy state.

   “I began to be impressed at one time that I should never see my father and
   mother again in the flesh. So strongly did this come that I shrank from
   going to the post office for fear of finding the sad tidings that they had
   passed away. On going and finding no letters at all, it would be with a
   sense of relief. I prayed that I might be permitted to see them again. An
   answer seemed to come, “You shall.” The fall came and I went to the city of
   New York to spend the winter. I procured my winter quarters and began a
   course of study in the fine arts. I now felt a strong impression to go
   immediately to my father’s home. I had felt perfectly at ease as to the
   health of my parents from the witness I received that I should see them
   again. I promised myself that I would take the steamboat the last of the
   week, and go home. It was about two hundred and fifty miles. But I was so
   urged by my impression to go that I decided to start a day earlier than I
   first intended. Still that did not seem to be satisfactory, and finally I
   resolved to take the first boat. I did so and arrived home just one day
   before my mother died. Her last rational word was, in effect, “I could die
   in peace if my son would do his duty.” She was then dying of apoplexy. I
   watched my opportunity to go to her dying bed when we could be alone, and
   tried to arouse her, but I got no response. I took hold of her, and said,
   “Mother, do speak to me once more.” I wanted to tell her I would obey the
   call of God to preach the gospel; but she was too far gone to understand me.
   Ten days later my dear father fell sick and passed away.

   “I followed them to the tomb, but oh! how my heart did sink on leaving them
   in their last resting place. Memory with a thousand tongues spoke of the
   anguish I had caused that sainted mother. I had so often heard her prayers
   as she pleaded with God to spare her boy and fit him for the mission that
   was awaiting him. I found myself at home after father’s funeral, by the
   desolate hearthstone, but so sad at my loss that I have never been able to
   call to mind any of the circumstances.

   “I went almost immediately to visit one of my sisters who lately had lost
   her husband. She was glad to see me, but began at once to urge me to promise
   that I would go and preach the gospel. She said: “You know, brother John,
   that mother has gone to her grave brokenhearted over your neglect to obey
   God. And now this is the last time that I shall ever see you on earth, and I
   want you to promise meet you will do your duty, and let me carry that
   promise to mother.”

   “But,” said I, “I shall visit you again next week.”

   “No,” she said, ‘this is the last time we shall meet on earth, so you must
   promise.”

   “Her appeals in mother’s name broke me down, and to get rid of her
   importunity, I made a promise which she construed to mean all that she
   desired, and then she said: “Come, brother, let us get down and ratify it
   before God.” Of course I knelt, and she poured out her soul for me in tones
   and words that stung me to the quick. We arose, and I left her house
   expecting to visit her again the next week; but on going to the post office
   I found a letter calling me to go immediately six hundred miles away as an
   important witness in court. I obeyed the summons, and my sister’s words
   proved true. I never saw her again. I learned in about a month from the time
   I saw her last, that she, too had passed away to the spirit land.

   “I was very sad because of these repeated desolations in the loss of my
   dearest earthly friends, but conscience bade me be still and know that God
   was dealing with me in mercy in permitting me to live, and that in view of
   the possibility that I might yet do my duty.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 9

   Mr. Redfield soon returned to his bachelor’s hall again. It must have been a
   curiosity shop indeed. Shelves covered the walls on all sides. These shelves
   were loaded with geological specimens, freaks of nature in wood and stone,
   Indian relics and mechanism of his own invention. Two mice, bound with
   delicate chains of his own manufacture, which fed and sported and slept at
   their pleasure, were his only companions.

   Here he secluded himself from the world and Christian friends lest some of
   them should mention the subject of preaching the gospel. Neither he nor they
   could let the subject alone. His presence impressed them with the subject,
   and his sore heart kept it upon his own mind whether sleeping or waking.

   One day he met the Methodist preacher in the street, who began immediately
   to urge him to consent to go to work in the vineyard of the Lord. He tried
   to avoid it by arguing both himself and the minister to another conclusion.
   He had held an exhorter’s license for some time, which had been crowded upon
   him against his will, but he had never used it. The minister now asked that
   he might present his case to the leader’s meeting for a recommendation for a
   license to preach. A strong and abiding impression seized him that unless he
   consented he would be killed by lightning. It seemed to him utter
   foolishness to allow himself to be swayed by any such thing; especially in a
   matter of such moment. His past experiences of a similar nature helped this
   impression to take the firmer hold upon him. It haunted him day and night
   for a long time. When the terrible thunder storms which frequently passed
   over would arise, and especially in the night, all his peace and rest and
   sleep would be at an end until the storm ceased. He would resort to all the
   precautionary measures that his knowledge of the laws of electricity would
   suggest to him, as opening the windows and giving a free circulation of air
   through the room, setting a chair in glass tumblers and sitting in it with
   the feet upon the rounds, and then pray and tremble until the storm was
   over. The familiar acquaintances of the man can fully appreciate this.

   This state of mind lasted for some weeks, when one night his fears became so
   great that he promised most fervently, that if God would relieve him, he
   would present his case himself to the leaders’ meeting on the first
   opportunity to do so. In an instant, when the storm was at its highest, his
   request was granted, and he went to rest and sleep, as calmly as ever in his
   life.

   The Friday evening after, the leaders were to meet, and he went to redeem
   his pledge. The meeting was held in the basement of the church. When a
   suitable opportunity came, he arose and stated his feelings. He was about to
   retire as usual in such cases, when he was stopped by one of the members and
   asked how he stood on the question of abolitionism. This question was then
   greatly agitating the Methodist Episcopal Church. He answered, “I am an
   abolitionist of the strongest type.”

   “Then I shall oppose the recommendation.” said the brother.

   He earnestly hoped they would not grant the recommendation, for that, he
   thought, would release him; and to make it doubly sure, he now said, ” I
   wish it distinctly under stood that if I am granted a license to preach, and
   that shall add anything to the influence I now possess, I shall certainly
   use it for God and the slave. So now your eyes are open and you know what I
   am and what to expect.”

   Again it was remarked, “We shall contest the matter.”

   He retired, and immediately the vote was taken, and the recommendation was
   granted. The meeting adjourned, and before they had hardly reached their
   homes the church was struck with lightning. This made a profound impression
   upon him, and when soon after, the quarterly conference convened, he was
   ready to be examined according to discipline. The license was granted, but
   when it was handed to him, he felt he could not use it.

   He was in constant dread of his wife’s returning, for he believed he could
   do nothing with her. He was also in constant fear that the tongue of slander
   would break out upon him in regard to his family matters, and that the more
   certainly if he began to preach. He used the license for a few times, and
   was urged to go upon a circuit as a supply. He consented to this for a short
   time, and though pressed to continue, he refused. He also refused to accept
   of any compensation for his services. He not only shrank from the
   responsibilities of the sacred office, but also from the very name of a
   Christian minister, and pay for his services implied that. He finally gave
   up preaching altogether, and went to Cleveland, Ohio, for the winter.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 10

   In Cleveland, Mr. Redfield engaged in his chosen profession -- portrait
   painting. He gave in his letter to the church, and was enrolled as a local
   preacher. Now and then, he preached as called upon by the pastor, and during
   the following winter assisted in a protracted meeting. His labors were owned
   of God in the conversion of souls.

   By invitation he supplied the pulpit of the Seaman’s Bethel one Sunday in
   the absence of the stated preacher. When the hour came he found the house
   full. He resolved to do his whole duty. While speaking against gambling,
   swearing, horse racing and drunkenness, one cried out from the congregation,
   “Do you mean me? Do you mean me?” He instantly replied, “If that is your
   case, I certainly mean you.” When the services closed the deacon who had
   invited him to preach said to him, “That was a very sad mistake, and you
   have done us a great wrong.” And then, as if to spare his feelings, he
   excused the matter thus:

   Our minister, I don’t think is quite right. He knows they will do these
   things of which you spoke, but he never reproves them, or speaks against
   such conduct, and they are all bound up in him. Sometimes I think he does
   not go far enough, but you went entirely too far. And besides this, many of
   these are rough sailors and they will not bear reproof.

   Shocked at this, Mr. Redfield turned away with a thankful heart that he was
   not more closely identified with such a state of things, and resolved that
   what work he did for the Lord should be faithfully done.

   Soon after this his pastor asked him for his views on the slavery question.
   The answer was, “I am an abolitionist from head to foot.” “Then,” asked he,
   “would you be willing to give us a lecture on the subject? Our hands are
   tied by a vote of the conference which forbids the preachers meddling with
   the question; yet the colonizationists make it a point to create all the
   prejudice against us they can, until some people think we are the vilest
   disorganizers in the land. I am not allowed to speak for the poor dumb slave
   under pain of conference penalties. And it does seem that those who dare
   should be permitted to speak the sentiments of the antislavery part of the
   church. There are a number of strong abolitionists in the city who would be
   glad to stand by any one who dares to take a firm stand; but they have not
   the courage to take a stand themselves unless some one takes the lead and
   meets the brunt of the opposition, which is sure to come, when an
   antislavery society is started.”

   Mr. Redfield promised the preacher to lecture, feeling glad that he had
   nothing too good to sacrifice in such a cause.

   The appointment for the lecture was made. When the time came, a mob had
   collected, nailed up the doors of the building in which the lecture was to
   be given, and were waiting for the lecturer himself. He felt it was no
   compromise of right or conscience to avoid an infuriated mob, when by no
   possibility could he get a hearing.

   His quiet retirement aroused the better element of society, who were not
   prepared to surrender the right of free speech in a free state to a mob. A
   demand was therefore made that the house be opened, and Mr. Redfield given
   an opportunity to present the views of the abolitionists. The plea was made
   that the colonizationists had free opportunity to misrepresent the
   abolitionists, and it was no more than right that the latter have an
   opportunity to reply. Another appointment was then made.

   Before the time came round, Mr. Redfield had the opportunity to prepare
   himself more perfectly for the occasion. The opposition to the first meeting
   created a deeper and wider interest to hear him. It also aroused him to see
   more clearly the terrible sinfulness of the slavery feeling in this country,
   and to make the stronger effort against it.

   Mr. Redfield’s lecture gave a synopsis of the slave codes in each State; the
   attempts of humanitarians in these states to ameliorate the condition of the
   slaves; and the facts recited in the preambles of the bills presented in the
   different legislatures for this purpose. These referred to the taking of the
   lives of slaves; robbing female slaves of their virtue; and the overworking
   and starving of field hands. He then called attention to the extent and the
   manner in which these laws were disobeyed, and the advantage that masters
   took of their legal powers. He read extracts from Southern papers to
   illustrate the foregoing, one of which was as follows:

   “RAN AWAY FROM THE SUBSCRIBER.

   “My slave, Sally, who, without doubt, is lurking about the plantation of
   Mr._____, in Georgia, as I sold her husband to that gentleman about eighteen
   months ago. She has been very sullen ever since. She will try to pass
   herself off as a white woman, as she is very white and beautiful spoken, and
   very capable of putting on the airs of a white lady. Fearing she might run
   away I took the pains to mark her by knocking out two of her front teeth and
   branding her on the buttocks with the letter S. She is likewise much scarred
   with the whip on her neck and shoulders. Her legs are torn by the dogs, done
   in catching her fifteen months ago. Her left thumb has the mark of a rifle
   ball where I shot her before she would surrender.”

   This was followed by recitals of cruelty, bloodcurdling to read at the
   present day.

   Mr. Redfield’s audience was large and many present were members of the mob
   which gathered at the time of the other appointment. He observed before he
   was through that the opposition began to yield, and the mob spirit to quiet
   down. He had expected that an attack would be made upon him before he was
   through, but all remained quiet.

   He finished the lecture with a picture in which the actors were reversed.
   The scene was in Algeria. The slaves were Americans. The same scenes were
   enacted as read from the Southern advertisements. He then appealed to their
   sense of justice and honor. He finished by representing himself as hazarding
   his reputation and life by pleading for those supposed Americans in Algeria,
   and asking his audience if now they thought him worthy of tar and feathers
   and other maltreatment. He waited for the mob to make a demonstration,
   inviting them to do so if they thought it right, but all remained quiet. He
   then said: “If you think the cause is worthy of support, we will form an
   antislavery society.” Nearly all present were then enrolled as members. This
   was the first organization of the kind made in the city.

   Soon after the lecture and the organization of the society, he was called
   upon to put his principles in practice. Cleveland was a point on the
   underground railroad where many fugitives from slavery took their departure
   from the United States, where they were unsafe, to the Dominion of Canada
   where they would be safe. It was a criminal act, according to the law of the
   land, to harbor or assist a fugitive slave.

   One Sunday evening he observed in the congregation at church a tall,
   straight, well-built and genteel appearing man, who, with hymnbook in hand,
   took part in the worship. The hue of his skin and the wavy ringlets of his
   hair showed him to be one of the despised race which the law of the land and
   the unwritten creed of some of the churches had declared had no rights that
   white men were bound to respect.

   Shortly after nightfall the same manly form came to Mr. Redfield’s lodgings,
   and in great agitation said: “O sir, save me! I am in great trouble! Will
   you help me?”

   “I will, if I can,” answered Mr. Redfield, “but tell me first what is the
   matter.”

   O sir,” said the stranger, “I am a slave. A large reward has been offered
   for me; and I learn that there is a man in the city looking for me to take
   me back into slavery.”

   “Come in,” said Mr. Redfield, “and you will be perfectly safe. My windows
   are all shut, fastened and blinded, and I will fasten the door.”

   “But what if they break in?” the fugitive asked.

   “I will do the best I can at all cost to defend you?’ replied Mr. Redfield;
   “sit down and tell me your story. Why did you run away? Were you badly
   treated?”

   “Oh, no!” he answered. “In the first place, I belonged to a man who died
   some years ago. His widow married again, and before the legal heirs could
   put in their claim to their portion of the estate my new master desired to
   sell me. Of all this I knew nothing until one day while I was working in the
   tanyard cleaning out a vat ( I had been hired out to a tanner, for I was a
   tanner by trade,) shoveling out the old bark and singing a Methodist hymn as
   I worked, I thought I heard a voice saying, “You are sold.” I straightened
   up and looked around, but saw no one. I went on with my work again, still
   singing a favorite hymn. The same voice came again, “You are sold.” I sprang
   out of the vat and looked for the author of the dreadful sound, but in vain.
   I went to work again, determined to banish my fears. But the same voice said
   again, “You are sold.” I looked again, and at a distance I saw my master in
   company with a stranger walking leisurely around the tanyard. I knew then
   that voice was correct. The thought, I will be torn and forever separated
   from my wife and child, now rushed upon me, and with it a sense of the wrong
   about to be perpetrated on us. I instantly resolved: “I will die first.” I
   kept an eye out, and went on with my work. They gradually drew nearer and
   nearer until they stood at my back. As I lifted a shovelful of bark one of
   them asked, “Shall I not help you lift it out?” Instinctively knew that this
   meant to tie my hands while I was holding them up. Blind to all
   consequences, and with the nerve of a madman, I sprang out of the vat and
   raised my shovel in self-defense. Instantly they both drew pistols, and bade
   me surrender or die. I cared not a fig for death, I was so aroused by the
   sense of the wrong they were doing me. But the thought came, “It is no use
   to contend; they have the law on their side and can do what they please with
   me. I must submit like my Saviour. I must resist not, but endure for his
   sake. It was my conscience and not my fear that subdued me. It told me to
   look to the future and t o God for the settlement of my troubles. I then let
   them tie my hands behind me with a long rope. They then gave a loud whistle
   which was answered by a man coming to us, to whom they gave me in charge. He
   took hold of the rope and commanded me to walk on. He took me to a place by
   the roadside where there were about fifty more slaves, tied together,
   preparatory to being taken down the river to be sold again. When we had got
   away from the two men I asked the one who had me in charge to let me go and
   see my wife and child before I was separated from them forever.

   “No,” said he, with a terrible oath, you shall not. Your wife would make a
   fuss, and you will feel a great deal worse. You had better make up your mind
   never to see them again.”

   “Oh, I was so heavy with grief that my feet seemed to slump into the ground
   at every step. Suddenly, with all my might I gave a wrench to the rope, and
   so loosed my hands, and, being much stronger than he, I pulled him right up
   to me, and then said, “I shall go and see my family before we are parted
   forever.” When he saw I had him in my power, with another oath, he said,
   “Well, you may go, but it will be the worse for you.”

   While thus narrating his story, this noble specimen of man would falter,
   choke, and struggle with the grief which was yet rending his heart. Then
   again he would nerve himself to continue the narration.

   “Finally,” said he, “we reached the cabin of my family, and as soon as my
   wife saw me, with a shriek she fell upon the floor, and my poor heart seemed
   to break worse than before. As I was compelled to hasten, I picked up a few
   articles of clothing, tied them up in a bundle, and kissed my wife and boy
   for the last time. Oh! how my brain reeled as I turned to leave them,
   forever. I felt that sense of my feet sinking into the earth again, at every
   step, as I walked away. I was now hurried back to the coffle of slaves, and
   was soon bound by one of my wrists to the chain, which ran the whole length
   of the gang. The driver being in a hurry urged us on, to the top of our
   speed. My rough old shoes that I wore in the tannery soon so galled my feet
   that the blood ran out at every step. We reached the river that night and
   were taken into a tavern at the landing. We were all put up in the garret,
   which was made like a jail, with grated windows, for the accommodation of
   slave-traders.

   “Soon the whole gang were asleep. Some cried themselves to sleep, some were
   sullen and apparently careless as to what became of them, for the last tie
   had been broken and the last hope had fled. Others were so gross and stupid
   that they fell asleep from want of energy and life to keep them awake; like
   beasts when out of reach of the lash, they were at rest. It was raining hard
   without, and the patter upon the roof and the splashing upon the ground,
   made it difficult to hear other sounds. When I thought all were sound
   asleep, I walked carefully around the room. I put my hand upon a rope, which
   I found to be a clothes-line, for the family used the garret to dry clothes
   in when not in other use. I went to a window, and with an old jack-knife
   which I had to use about the tanyard, I dug out of the wall one end of an
   iron bar, and that made a place just large enough for me to squeeze through.
   I then fastened one end of the clothes line to another bar, threw out my
   little bundle of clothing, carefully climbed out, and ventured my weight
   upon that frail rope. I heard one of the strands break, and expected to fall
   to the ground the next moment; but it held me until I reached the end. I had
   not reached the ground by a number of feet, when, as I hung there, I saw a
   door open and some one passing in. For a moment all my fears were aroused,
   thinking I was discovered. But they did not see me in the darkness, and I
   only saw them by the light of the open door. The rain was still pouring
   down. I now let go my hold and dropped to the ground. I carefully felt
   around until I found my bundle, and then made my way to a stream of water
   near by, and waded it a long distance, that the hounds might be unable to
   follow me. The stream led me in the direction from whence I came. I followed
   it until about daybreak, and then hid in the woods until night, when I
   started again for home. The succeeding morning I came in sight of my little
   home again. From fear of frightening my dear wife, and arousing some slaves
   who slept in part of the cabin , I went cautiously to a little window, and
   in a low tone of voice, called:

   “Liza!”

   With a scream she cried out, “O my God! that’s my Thomas! O Thomas! Thomas!
   the patrol will kill you!”

   “I said, “Hush! Liza, keep still, and we will manage some way.”

   “I went into the cabin and climbed up into the little garret through a hole
   over a door between the two rooms. My wife put up a box on to the door
   casing to hide a part of the hole through which I had passed. When it was
   fairly daylight, the patrol, who had heard of my escape, came to the cabin
   and asked Liza if I had got back. She answered, “No! I have not seen him
   since he left with the slave trader.” This was literally true, for it was
   dark when I came.

   “The patrol kept such a close watch that I dared not go out anywhere. So I
   concluded to change my place of concealment, and started in the night for my
   mother’s, some four miles away, where she was owned. Lest I should startle
   her, I went to her window, and in a low voice, asked, ‘Aunt, is uncle at
   home?’ She knew my voice, and knew I had run away, and that the patrol was
   after me. She cried out, ‘Oh! it is my poor boy, Tommy! O Tommy! Tommy! the
   patrol will kill you!’ She let me into the cabin, and we took up a board of
   the floor, and I laid down on the ground, and she put the board back again.
   Here I could stay until the patrol would pass on to the next beat, and then
   I would come out and stretch myself.

   “My wife’s and mother’s cabins were watched closely. I changed my hiding
   place from under the floor to the garret, which was reached by a ladder. As
   my mother could have my boy with her without suspicion, I had the mournful
   consolation of caressing him often.

   “I resolved at last that I would come North as soon as I could with safety;
   but so closely was I watched, that I was compelled to hide under the floor
   and in the garret, at mother’s, for thirteen months. By this time I was so
   completely bleached out, and my skin was so fair, that after mother got me
   some women’s clothes, I was able boldly to take the stage as a white woman
   and make my escape without detection. When I had reached a section where I
   was not known, I got out and went into the woods and put on my men’s
   clothing. I then traveled nights and slept daytimes until I reached a free
   state. I lived on corn, fruits and such other things as I could help myself
   to. After a long time I found myself in this state.

   “I now felt so badly about my wife and child that at last I ventured to get
   a white man to write to my master for me, that if he would allow me to live
   with my family I would go back and give him my labors for the rest of my
   life. He wrote me in reply that he would have me any way and he would do as
   he pleased. When this hope failed I resolved to go myself and by some means
   bring my wife and child away. So I turned my face toward the land of bondage
   again. I traveled nights and slept daytimes in the woods, until I came in
   sight once more of my little cabin. When I got inside I found my little one
   was dead and buried. My heart was nearly broken again. With my wife I
   started again for the land of freedom. We passed the patrol and entered the
   woods. It was night; but my poor wife had become so nervous and broken by
   the long struggle with her wrongs that the least unusual sound or the
   breaking of a twig would cause her to cry out, ‘The patrol is coming! the
   patrol is coming!’ I carried her in my arms until I s aw I must give up the
   effort, as her fears would be our betrayal, and we should both be taken back
   to bondage. I was obliged to let her return, while I turned my steps toward
   the North again. And now they have got track of me, and are in the city
   after me.”

   Mr. Redfield had the privilege of learning that this suffering man landed
   safely in Canada, where colored people had equal rights with white people.
   He knew he was making himself liable to church proscription by aiding such
   suffering followers of Jesus, but he told the authorities that he should
   stand for God and humanity. The laws of the state would have sent him to the
   state’s prison for ten years, and made him pay a fine of five hundred
   dollars for sheltering and aiding that poor man if his offense had been
   known; but to use his own words, “What had I to do with protecting my own
   freedom and rights when there stood my suffering Jesus in the person of this
   poor outcast. I seemed to hear his voice ringing in my ears, “Inasmuch as ye
   have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren ye have done it unto
   me.” Yes, and I would have done it again if I had known that I certainly
   would have had to suffer both the imprisonment and the fine.”

   Mr. Redfield lived during the period of the great antislavery conflict in
   this country. All the different phases of it passed before him. The
   Methodist Episcopal Church, of which he was a member, and within whose pale
   he performed nearly all his ministerial labor, and which he loved as he
   loved his life, he saw hesitate and cringe before the slave power, and at
   last become an agent of persecution against such as could not refrain from
   lifting up their voices against the gigantic wrong. His sensitive soul
   listened with horror to the accounts of proscription against such men as
   Orange Scott, Cyrus Prindle, Luther Lee and others of its most devoted
   ministers. He lived to see a combination formed in the General conference of
   that body, in 1860, [1] that prevented the redressing of the grievances that
   resulted in the organization of the Free Methodist Church, and that also
   prevented the change of the general rule on slavery until 1864, when there
   were no more slaves within the bounds of the United States.

   He did not live to see that change of the rule. If he had, the act coming at
   such a time, would have appeared so ungracious to him that it could have
   afforded him no pleasure. If he had lived several quadrennials longer, he
   might have been gratified by witnessing the adoption of a resolution by the
   General conference of that body, removing a censure passed upon Orange
   Scott, by the General conference of 1836, for taking part in an antislavery
   meeting in the city of Cincinnati, during the session of that conference.
   Orange Scott had passed into the eternal world, however, long before this
   relief to his memory.

   It is hardly possible for the present generation, though little more than a
   quarter of a century has since passed by, to conceive of a state of society
   in this country such as has been illustrated in this chapter; but many there
   are who have outlived the generation in which these cruelties were
   perpetrated, and who, vividly recalling those exciting times, will testify
   that the picture is in no wise overdrawn.
     _________________________________________________________________

   [1] Rev. William Hosmer, in the “Northern independent,” editorial
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 11

   Mr. Redfield had now passed one winter in active service for God and
   humanity. Many had been converted. An efficient antislavery society had been
   organized, and nearly fifty fugitives from bondage had been assisted in
   their efforts to reach Canada. He now determined to return to Lockport, N.
   Y., the scene of some of his severest conflicts, and where he consented to
   accept a license to preach the gospel. On his return, he was urged to take
   the place of a preacher who had made himself unacceptable by his antislavery
   views. He accepted the position, but soon was equally as unacceptable as his
   predecessor, and for the same reason. He gave up the charge and returned to
   his bachelor’s quarters. He now despaired of doing his duty acceptably to
   God, and satisfactorily to himself. The summer was spent in studying into
   the works and ways of God as seen in nature. He gave up the idea of going
   into the work as a traveling preacher. He thought to content himself with
   preaching occasionally, but giving his time mainly to business. When he did
   preach he refused to receive pay for his services. The hand of disease had
   fastened upon him, but still he endeavored to keep his conscience free from
   condemnation, by visiting and praying with the people, and exhorting sinners
   to seek Christ. In this he saw some success, but so little was he satisfied
   with his labors, that he was in great distress of mind.

   He was under conviction for and began to seek the experience of entire
   sanctification.

   He says: “I thought that experience would empower me to do my duties with
   greater success and satisfaction. In my ignorance of the true way, I wept
   and mourned before God, and wished to meet with some one who could instruct
   me. I finally became desperate, and resolved to make a business of seeking
   it. I began with a day of fasting and prayer. This was followed with a
   watch-night. I resolved never to close my eyes or leave my knees until I
   could claim the blessing; but nature sank under the burden, and I fell to
   the floor and went to sleep. When morning came, I awoke to find myself
   exhausted and on the floor. When I remembered the vows and resolutions I had
   made the night before, and how poorly I had kept my promise, I blamed myself
   for faithlessness, and in tears asked God if I must live another day in this
   condition. Can I be no more like thee than this? I could say from the depths
   of my heart:


   ‘“Tis worse than death my God to love,

   And not my God alone.”

   “Again I fasted and kept watch-night. I resolved not to move until I either
   died or gained the great pearl; but being still more exhausted, I again sank
   to the floor and went to sleep, and awoke the next morning to upbraid myself
   for my broken vows. All these struggles only proved to me how useless were
   human plans and will-power to gain what I afterward learned must be obtained
   by faith alone. By the Holy Spirit I was led to make a thorough search of
   self and find to what extent my will was in harmony with God’s will. Now my
   mind was brought to face the great question with me. I said to myself, how
   can I think of preaching after my troubles with that unfortunate being who
   has blasted every hope of my life! I cannot attempt to regulate public
   opinion by a narration of my sorrows! I shall be misunderstood, and my
   misfortune will be the foundation of a large amount of slander, which will
   hedge up my way. “No, Lord,” I said, “I cannot go. I might once have gone
   without impediment, but that day has passed forever. I will do the best I
   can in a private way, but to devote myself to the work of the ministry is
   impossible until I have an honorable discharge from the woman who has
   embittered my life.”

   “I now resolved to spend my time in active service for the Lord, but in a
   private way. I commenced visiting the sick, praying with them, and pointing
   them to the Lamb of God. I went to see a young man who was very sick, and
   who had been given up by the counseling physicians, who had just left him.
   While at prayer for him an impression came upon me that the young man would
   not die, and I instantly gave utterance to it. I then arose, and taking him
   by the hand, said to him, ‘You will not die. Now give your heart to God and
   live for him.” This he promised to do, and I left the house. Two or three
   brethren who were present and heard me make this declaration were distressed
   at it, for fear of the consequences in case it should not prove true. I felt
   the same, nor was I relieved until a short time after when I saw the young
   man walking the street in comparatively good health.

   “Soon after this I was asked to visit another man who had been given up to
   die by his physician, who said he could not live through the night. The man
   insisted that I should be called, and declared he would take no medicine
   from any hand but mine, or by my direction. He had heard of the case just
   narrated, and as soon as I approached his bed he said to me, “Don’t pray for
   me to get well, I prefer to die.” But the impression came to me, and I said
   to him, “I can pray in no other way, for you will certainly get well.” The
   sequel justified this prediction, for he did get well.

   “I was called upon by a Class Leader to visit a member of his class, then
   apparently dying with the consumption. It was a cold night in March. We
   found the windows and doors open to give her air. The physician had just
   left, after declaring that she was dying. While I was praying with her, as
   in the other cases, the impression came that she would recover. It came this
   time in such power that it was with difficulty that I could repress the
   utterance of it. On leaving the house I said to the leader what I thought.
   To this he answered, “It is a good thing you did not say so, for she is
   certainly dying. If you had said what you felt, the cause of religion would
   have been greatly injured.” To the astonishment of all she was able to walk
   the streets in a very few weeks, and lived for a long time after.

   “Another instance, but with a different result, occurred soon after. One of
   the Class Leaders was taken sick, and to all appearance the sickness was
   unto death; but the suggestion came to me with great power that the prayer
   of faith would save the sick. The leader was a man of great value to the
   church, and I felt that he could not be spared. I shut myself up in my room,
   determined if possible to prevail with God to raise him up to health. I
   continued in prayer until the same impression came with a slight shade of
   difference, that the leader would live, and not die. But that slight
   difference in the impression made me hesitate to declare that the sick man
   would recover. Soon after the man died.”

   These instances made a profound impression upon Mr. Redfield, and led him to
   do some very careful thinking upon the general subject. He says, “I then saw
   that none of these cases were restored by faith. In the first three the
   result was intuitively perceived as a coming fact. In the last the
   impression was on the imagination, prompted by strong desire. This
   experience has been of great benefit to me since then, as a gauge by which
   to test the strong impressions, and to distinguish between faith, fancy, and
   intuition.”

   It is difficult to account for these peculiar manifestations and successes
   upon any other ground than that the Lord was preparing him for future
   usefulness — by the study which these facts induced. He was still bent on
   compromising the matter of his call if he could. He resolved to pay the
   preachers more; he denied himself all luxuries of the table, and lived for a
   season on roast potatoes cooked by his own hand that he might give more.

   In the midst of this two young men came to his apartments, and the three
   bound themselves together to pray for a revival of religion. One night when
   they were engaged in prayer the village band met in the adjoining room for
   practice. They each prayed that the music might be stopped, and held on
   until each felt that he had received an answer. Soon the music stopped, and
   they heard the members of the band pass down the stairs from the room. This
   encouraged them to ask for greater things. They held on until they each
   received an answer that God would revive his work in the place. The next day
   they learned that several members of the band were awakened the evening
   before and had been inquiring the way of salvation. Soon after the minister
   commenced a protracted meeting, and before it closed about two hundred
   professed conversion. Mr. Redfield now had his hands and heart full, in
   laboring in prayer meetings, and in personal effort with souls. He tried to
   think that he would not have to preach if he proved faithful in this manner.

   He became much concerned for the gentleman with whom he boarded before he
   went into bachelor’s hall. He was an infidel Sabbath breaker. Mr. Redfield
   had often recommended religion to him in a general way, but now he felt that
   he had not been sufficiently in earnest about it. He resolved to do his
   whole duty at all hazards. The man came into Mr. Redfield’s room one day,
   and he took him by the hand and said, “I have tried to recommend religion to
   you by my life and gentleness, but I see and feel I have never done my duty
   to you as I ought, and now I will never let go of your hand, nor let you go,
   until you either repulse me or give your heart to God.” With deep emotion he
   said, “The last obstacle is now removed. I was a disbeliever in religion
   until I became acquainted with you. I have watched you, and could find but
   one fault in you, and that was, if you really felt friendly to me as you
   seemed to, I could not see how you could believe my soul in danger and not
   compel me to seek religion. But this removes that obstacle. Now,” said he,
   with tears in his eyes, “take me to some of your prayer meetings.”

   “There was another gentleman,” says Mr. Redfield, “an acquaintance and
   friend, whom I had often tried to lead to Christ, but who, with his wife,
   still remained impenitent, and whom I now resolved to visit and talk and
   pray with. I sent word to them that I would come at a certain time, and that
   my object was to talk with them on the subject of their soul’s salvation.
   When the time arrived I went to their home and found it closed against me.
   To all appearances they were not at home. Again I appointed a time, and
   again I found the house shut against me. After this the gentleman came to my
   apartments one day, and I stepped to the door and locked it, and said, “I
   will never let you leave this room until you promise to seek salvation, or
   utterly refuse me.’ To this he answered, “I appreciate your motives, but if
   it has come to this I must tell you distinctly, I shall not make you any
   such promise.” “Very well, Lyman, an impression comes to me that God will
   now visit you with judgments.” Shortly after this I was called to go to his
   house to see his dying wife. The violence of her disease ended in
   mortification while she was yet living, and had now reached its crisis. When
   I reached the house groups of neighbors were standing here and there talking
   in low tones, and whose manner indicated that the subject was more than
   ordinarily distressing. I passed them, approached the door, opened it, and
   in the first room sat others in melancholy mood. They were talking in the
   same manner as those outside. Now and then a cry of agony came through the
   closed doors of the sufferer’s room. The door opened, and the eyes of the
   dying woman met mine. Hers flashed with a gleam never to be forgotten.

   “She cried out, “Oh! why did you not come before?”

   “I drew near her and replied, “I have tried, but you closed your door
   against me.”

   “Well, then pray for me now,” she said.

   “I knelt and tried to pray, but it was in vain; I could not get hold. She
   called upon her attendants to remove her to another room. This was done by
   moving the cot on which she lay. When they set her down she raised her
   mortifying arms toward heaven and uttered the mournful cry, “O God! for a
   few hours to get ready for this awful change.” Her arms fell and she ceased
   to breathe. I then approached her distracted husband, and asked, “Lyman,
   will you now yield to God?”

   “He answered, “I cannot now as well as I could before.”

   “I replied, “Then God will come again.”

   “In a very few days one of his children was called to pass away suddenly. I
   was called again to visit the house of mourning. The father was convulsed
   with grief. On being approached and asked, “Has God done enough? Will you
   now yield?’ he answered as before. I then said, “Well, God will come once
   more.”

   “In a few days I was called to visit Lyman himself. He appeared to be
   rapidly passing into eternity. He now seemed to have given up the
   controversy and professed to have yielded his heart to God. Still a doubt
   hung over the case that eternity alone can clear up.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 12

   Mr. Redfield was now conscious that disease had fastened its grasp upon his
   own frame. To all appearances he was rapidly sinking under that fell
   disease, consumption. All remedies seemed to fail. He had but one hope left,
   and that was to escape the rigors of winter by going to one of the Southern
   states. A few remedies that he still thought of using were packed with his
   clothing and books, and with a limited purse, he started for New York city
   to take a steamer for the South. On arriving at the city, and while waiting
   for the day of the steamer’s departure, he met an old friend, who insisted
   upon his stopping with him during the winter. It was urged that there would
   be sudden changes of weather in the South that would seriously affect him;
   that he might have a room at the home of this friend, where he could
   regulate the temperature as he pleased, and he need not go out until spring.
   He finally accepted the kind offer, and soon went into most favorable winter
   quarters.

   Here he wasted fast with hectic and cough. He was soon so weak and
   emaciated, that he was obliged to lie upon the bed most of the time. His
   room was opposite a Methodist Episcopal church, with a public cemetery and
   vault in the rear. Every day, and sometimes twice and thrice a day, funeral
   processions would pass in and leave the bodies of departed ones. In his
   morbid state of feeling these scenes had a strange fascination for him, and
   he would gaze upon them and think, “Thus it will be soon with me.”

   On bright and pleasant Sunday mornings he would wrap himself and cross over
   to the church and listen to the sermon. He did not give in his church
   letter, for that stated that he was a local preacher, and he might be called
   upon to preach. His disease gained rapidly and soon it was doubtful whether
   he would live to see the coming summer. His marvelous imagination would
   picture to him scenes of decay, as he looked upon his colorless and
   emaciated hands and his conscience goaded and upbraided him because of
   neglected duty. He often would ask himself, “What can I do to soften this
   terrible punishment, or to appease this God who has borne with me so
   long?” His room often resounded with his sobs and crying. He appeared to
   himself to be too far gone with disease to be ever able to perform the duty
   that lay so heavily upon him; yet to die, he felt he could not, he dare not.
   These struggles of mind would bring on profuse sweating, and that would be
   followed with chills, and all seemed to aggravate and hasten the work of
   disease. Yet he was powerless to shake off these thoughts and feelings.

   One day his mind recurred to the fact that four times he had been raised
   from the borders of the grave, as he thought, that he might preach the
   gospel, and weak as he was, he immediately knelt and pleaded with God for
   his life. Days went by in which he spent much of his time in this manner,
   but all seemed in vain. At last, despairing of help in any other way, he
   vowed again to do the work God had called him to do. He spent the most of
   one night in prayer, weeping, promising and pleading. About three o’clock in
   the morning the answer came, clear and distinct, “You may live while you
   preach, but no longer.”

   From that hour, as we shall see, that declaration was the inspiration of his
   life. Many times, when heart and hope had failed, that assurance nerved him
   to go forward in the conflict. He says, “This single sentence has kept me
   moving for more than twenty year at my own expense to toil in the face of
   all opposition, and hold my tongue and let God who sent me settle up all in
   the final day of reckoning.”

   On the Friday evening after receiving this answer to his prayer, he was
   able, by carefully wrapping himself, to attend a love-feast in the church
   across the way. He went designing to present his letter. He had been seated
   but a short time when the minister came and spoke to him; and, though they
   were strangers, asked, “Have you a preacher’s license?”

   Mr. Redfield answered, “I have.”

   “Well, you must preach for me in this church next Sunday morning,” said the
   pastor.

   “But, sir, you must excuse me;” rejoined Mr. Redfield.

   The minister would not excuse him, and Mr. Redfield found himself in trouble
   again. All his old questionings arose once more. Some of his wife’s
   relatives lived in the city, and they might make him trouble. Still there
   was his promise made to God, and the answer, “You may live while you preach,
   but no longer.” At last he answered, “I will try.” Yet he secretly hoped
   that he might make so bad a failure of it that he would never be called upon
   again. If anything could happen to cause this, for which he would not be
   responsible, and the cause of God not be injured by it, he felt he would be
   thankful. He had yet to learn that the callings of God are without
   repentance.

   Saturday morning came, and with it the thought that he must try and preach
   on the morrow. He was in a tremor accompanied by alternate sweats and chills
   all day. He begged of God to be released. Thus the day was passed. The night
   came on, with no alleviation to his feelings. In speaking of it, he says,
   “I have often thought I could appreciate the feelings of a man about to be
   executed; how the very hours were given tongues to distress his spirit with
   their suggestions. I went to bed, but not to sleep. Occasionally I would
   begin to lose myself, when it would seem to be screamed in my ear, “Preach
   tomorrow,” and I would spring up in the bed, and the cold sweat would start
   all over me. Thus the long night passed by.”

   Daylight brought him no relief. Sunrise succeeded the dawn, and in due time
   the church bells began to ring. He looked out upon the street and saw the
   people gathering in large numbers to the church. All seemed to conspire to
   make him as miserable as possible. The moment came for him to walk over to
   the church. He started, but with his heart crying out, “I cannot.” Again the
   Voice said, “Live while you preach.” He reached the pulpit, in great
   distraction of mind, and made some mortifying blunders. He arose to give out
   a hymn, but was too weak to hold up the book. He clung to the desk to keep
   from falling, and had to sit while the congregation sang. The prayer over,
   the lesson read, and another hymn sung, he arose to announce his text. An
   unearthly power seemed to sustain him; he had volume of voice, readiness of
   thought, and freedom of utterance. He concluded, but was ashamed of himself
   and his effort, and thought, “This will put an end to invitations to
   preach.” To his surprise, however, the preacher said to him, You must preach
   again, naming the evening when his services would be expected. Mr. Redfield
   pleaded to be excused, but the minister was unyielding. Said he, “If you
   refuse, I must lay commands upon you.” Had it not been for falling into the
   hands of such a man, it is quite probable that the church would never have
   been stirred by the mighty eloquence of Dr. Redfield.

   On Friday evening, he was again at church. The minister said to him, “You
   must preach Sunday night.” Again his soul was on the rack. Saturday night
   was spent in prayer. If he must preach, he must have a text and subject.
   About two o’clock Sunday morning the answer came; but with it, another of
   his strange impressions. The substance of it was this: “I will be with you
   in awful power; but you must open the service with the declaration that this
   night there will be such a display of divine power as they have never
   witnessed; and further, that eternity will reveal the fact that the
   probation of one soul in the congregation ends this night, so that it is
   salvation for that person now or never.” He well knew that no one who would
   be present could sympathize with him in making such a statement; that it
   would probably shock the church, and if it proved a failure, be disastrous
   to the cause of Christ. He prayed to be relieved from such a duty; and was
   instantly thrown into great darkness and distress of mind. His text and
   subject seemed all confusion, as well as his own relation to Christ. This he
   could not endure. He now pleaded with God to show him what he would have him
   do, and promised to yield all his objections to the divine will. Then the
   answer came again as before. Again he shrank from taking a position that
   seemed so full of presumption; but only to be instantly overwhelmed in
   darkness, and distress of soul. He finally promised to obey.

   He went to the Sunday morning service. The noted Dr. Luckey preached. When
   the congregation rose to sing the first hymn, the thought came home to him
   with great power, the doom of one soul will be eternally fixed tonight. Such
   was the intensity of his feelings he had to sit down, and hold his hand over
   his mouth to keep from screaming aloud. The natural impropriety of making
   such a declaration as he felt he must make to please God, made his entire
   nature shrink from the purpose of doing it. Thus he alternated between the
   resolve to do so, and drawing back from it through the entire day. In the
   afternoon Dr. P_____ preached. The work of the evening was to fall upon him.
   These great preachers occupying the same pulpit, both the same day, did not
   make his cross lighter.

   At the appointed hour he walked over to the church. The house, a large one,
   was densely packed with people, gallery, standing-room, vestibule and all.
   At the last moment he made up his mind to venture all, and leave the results
   with God. At the proper time in a firm, clear voice, he said, “You may
   prepare for the greatest display of God’s power that you have ever witnessed
   in this church; besides there is one soul here whose probation ends tonight,
   forever. With that soul it is salvation this night or never. I may not be
   able to prove this true, but that soul will tell me in the judgment that
   this Sunday night, in the year of our Lord 1841, was the last of its
   probation.” As soon as he had uttered these words he was perfectly relieved.
   The members were shocked, and so great were their fears, as they afterwards
   confessed, that they prayed God to overrule his presumption.

   He then gave out his text and began to preach. An awful sense of the divine
   presence pervaded the congregation. To use his own words, “An unearthly
   power so lifted me up that it seemed to me that my feet only touched the
   earth, while my whole head, heart and body were above the skies and in
   heaven. The thrills of heavenly power which I then felt I can never
   describe. It was a power given me for the occasion, and it seemed to me that
   it could move a nation, or shake a world.”

   He had not finished his sermon when, without an invitation, the congregation
   arose and many flocked to the altar, screaming for mercy. When all the space
   around and within the altar was crowded with seekers, the preacher in charge
   asked all in the house who desired to become Christians to arise, when it
   was thought that five hundred more arose for prayers. The number afterward
   converted justified that estimate. For many years that night was commonly
   referred to as “the great night.”

   About a month after this an old Class Leader asked Mr. Redfield if he
   remembered making the statement on “the great night” that the probation of
   one soul would end that night. On being answered in the affirmative, he went
   on to say that a lady converted that night, and who afterwards joined his
   class, had told him that six weeks previous she dreamed three times during
   one night that in just six weeks her probation would end. That night the six
   weeks were ended and she was happily converted.

   Though this incident is given by Mr. Redfield himself in this connection, it
   is not designed to teach that probation ends with conversion. He was the
   furtherest from teaching any such doctrine, as his experience herein would
   show. The account is related because of the remarkable coincidence in the
   events described.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 13

   The great awakening with which the last chapter concluded continued without
   interruption for fourteen months.

   Mr. Redfield was invited to preach in different churches in New York. His
   health rapidly improved, and he conscientiously used it for God’s glory.
   Many remarkable incidents occurred during these labors. Great manifestations
   of divine power often attended his ministry. Persons under conviction would
   sometimes fly from the house to avoid yielding to Christ, and afterwards be
   found lying upon the walks, helpless. At first, the policemen would take
   them to the station house, and lay them side and side upon the floor, and
   watch them until they “came to.” The first night this occurred it created no
   little excitement. Quite a number had thus been gathered in, and a large
   crowd stood around the door wondering what it meant. While they were gazing
   and commenting, and endeavoring to account for the strange phenomena, the
   head of one of the prostrate ones raised, and a shout of “Glory to God!”
   came from his lips. Then, another, and another, and another, did likewise,
   until all of them were at it at once. The station was made to resound with
   unaccustomed noise the praises of God instead of cursing and blasphemy. When
   it was discovered that such persons were neither harmed nor harmful, the
   officers ceased to take them to the station, but watched them where they
   fell, until they “came to” and were able to care for themselves.

   Singularly, this timid, shrinking man, who dreaded the responsibilities of
   the Christian ministry so much, was providentially thrown into the great
   metropolis of the nation to commence his work; where the people, gathered in
   such masses, made the responsibility so much the greater.

   In the midst of this great victory, Mr. Redfield was not without temptation.
   His clear perceptions of what was meet and right, sharpened by his struggles
   with unbelief, the rough handlings of providence, and the rougher handling
   of his fellowmen, made him feel intensely his weakness and his dependence
   upon God. Above all, the constant dread of his wife making an evil use of
   the facts of his family life, and of evil-disposed persons making a worse
   use of what they did not understand, kept him in the dust at the foot of the
   cross. Now and then he seems to have had a glimpse of the benefit God was
   making these things to him, but generally this fact was hid from his mind.
   His greatest fear was concerning the harm they might work to the cause of
   Christ. He resolved to say nothing about his matters, except when asked, and
   then to be perfectly frank with all who sought for information. But he soon
   learned that a story once out was likely to grow into untruthful details. At
   last he came to the conclusion that this was to be his “thorn,” and his best
   way was to bear it in silence and alone.

   He now instinctively turned toward the mercy-seat, and asked for greater
   grace to meet his great responsibilities. To fit himself especially for the
   work before him, he once more began to seek the experience of holiness. The
   next chapter relates this experience in his own words.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 14

   Mr. Redfield relates his experience in the matter of seeking holiness as
   follows:

   “I now began to see and feel my need of entire sanctification. I had
   perverted views of what constituted that state of grace, and of the way to
   seek it, but I resolved to set about seeking it as best I knew. I inquired
   of a number of persons who professed to know something of the experience,
   what I must do to obtain it. Their instructions did not help me in the
   least; and all I had done to this time furnished me with no evidence that I
   had made any appreciable advance toward it. My resolve now was to make a
   business of seeking it, and to be desperate in the effort. Long before this
   I had earnestly sought for it, by fasting and prayer, and watchnights, until
   I was utterly exhausted by the effort. In all this I had failed to see the
   grand end to be secured, which is nothing more or less than perfect
   submission to, and harmony with, the will of God. I had yet to learn that
   the great preparation to receive it was to get the consent and choice of my
   will that God’s will should be done, and whatever else I might do a
   deficiency in this would defeat my effort.

   “I had now fairly entered the gospel field. My long neglected and much
   dreaded duty I had now made my life work. I began with singleness of purpose
   to seek this precious pearl. Yet, fearful that one so utterly unworthy might
   be denied so great a boon, I longed to lay my heart open to some one who
   could instruct me; not knowing that this state can no more be comprehended
   before its attainment, than justification can be by an infidel. At last I
   heard that a good old gentleman who had enjoyed this blessing for more than
   forty years was coming to make his annual visit to his children with whom I
   was then boarding. In due time he came, and I took him to my room one day,
   closed the door, and with a sense of my own unworthiness, I asked him if God
   was willing that such an unworthy person as myself should possess so great a
   blessing as perfect love. The enemy was all this time suggesting to me that
   he probably would say, No! You are too young and presumptuous to think of
   that great and exalted state yet. But no, with deep and tender emotions the
   good old father answered, “Why, bless your dear heart; why, yes, the Lord
   wants you to be holy.” And I felt such gratitude towards the old man,
   because he thought God was willing to indulge me with the gift of so great a
   grace, as I never can describe. From this I took fresh courage. I now asked
   him, “Can you tell me how I can get possession of it?’ To this he replied,
   “By faith.” But he might as well have answered in Hebrew, for I understood
   not his meaning. I dreaded deception, and I could not suppose it possible
   that a state of grace that I had set so high an estimate upon could be
   secured short of a correspondingly valuable price or gift, instead of a
   single cheap and worthless act of believing. [So faith appeared to him then.
   Editor] If he had told me to do some great thing, or to be very faithful,
   and expect to grow up into it by a long and tedious process; I could have
   thought his instruction more rational. I remembered the soul-tearing process
   which I witnessed in a br other who was seeking the blessing at the camp
   meeting where I was converted, and I thought that must be the true way. I
   had serious doubts, however, about my constitution being able to endure the
   agony necessary to obtain the blessing.

   “While conversing with a person upon the subject one day, an elderly brother
   standing near, asked, “Why don’t you go across the town to R_____ street,
   where they have meetings every week at Dr. Palmer’s? They can tell you how
   to find the blessing.”

   “Another elderly brother who stood by, and in whose piety I had great
   confidence, but who, though he believed in that stat of grace and had been
   seeking it for about twenty-six years without success, now said to me aside,
   “You must be very careful about having anything to do with Dr. Palmer’s
   people, for they will tell you to believe that you already have the
   blessing, and besides many people do not think them so pious as thy pretend
   to be, after all their sanctimonious airs, uniform dress and great
   pretensions.”

   From that moment I so greatly feared them that I would have received
   instruction from them no sooner than from a Mahometan. Indeed, I think I
   would have avoided them at all hazard if about to meet them on the street. I
   now remembered hearing Dr. Fisk answer the questions of my mother, as to
   what and how she should believe, “Believe,” said he, “that you have it, and
   you have it.” I did not then see the difference between “believing that you
   are receiving it, and that will bring it,” and “believing that you have
   received it, and that will make it a fact that you have received it!” Both,
   alike, were utterly opposed to my reason; and I could have as easily
   endorsed Mahometanism as holiness secured by these irrational means. I now
   began to think I could see through the vagaries of these people; that their
   holiness consisted in giving up all concern about the matter, and then by
   imagining that the end was gained, the cessation from the struggle would
   leave them quiet, and this quiet they called the witness of holiness.

   “Of course I had abandoned all hope of attaining the blessing in the way I
   had pursued so long and so unsuccessfully. And now I went to work with all
   determination, hoping if my body could endure the agony through which I
   expected to pass, I might by this desperation gain the land of Beulah.
   Hearing there was to be a campmeeting within the bounds of an adjoining
   conference I determined to go, as a stranger, and thus avoid being seen by
   any of the brethren of the society where I belonged. I knew they had
   confidence in my piety, but I was afraid should they see me in great agony
   seeking the blessing of holiness, they might not know what to think of it;
   and possibly they might conclude that I had been committing some grievous
   sin; and not being able to explain all to their satisfaction, they would
   feel grieved, and I thereby would be the occasion of great injury to the
   cause of Christ.

   “When I reached the campground I found there a number of the brethren I
   desired to avoid. Well, thought I, it is my duty and privilege to be holy,
   to fit me for the great work I have to do; so I shall attend to that and
   leave God to take care of the results. I was called upon to preach, but as I
   had come to seek the blessing of holiness, and to make that my business, I
   declined. When I began in earnest to rein myself up to the work, the devil
   became in earnest also, and induced me to begin to inspect the external
   evidences of other people’s piety. It seemed to me that I never saw the
   corrupt state of the church as I saw it then. One person’s mode of dress was
   trim, and that to me was evidence of pride; another’s was careless, and that
   indicated pride of his fancied humility. I felt grieved at these evidences
   of spiritual decline, and my tears flowed in abundance.

   “While walking in the grove alone, and grieving thus I met the good old man
   who had given me such comfort in saying he thought God was willing that I
   should have the blessing of holiness; and I began telling him how I had come
   to the meeting to seek it, but that such evidences of decline in the church
   made me feel so badly that I could not attend to it with any hope of
   success. The old gentleman saw this to be a trick of the devil to divert my
   attention and efforts from the great work, and with a few words he set me
   right.

   “I,” said he, “was once troubled as you are now, and I got out of it by
   resolving, if everybody else goes to hell, by the grace of God I am going to
   heaven.”

   “This broke the spell of what I then saw was on of the devil’s pious frauds,
   to hinder me from gaining the precious prize I was after.

   “I now thought, if ever I gain the blessing, I must call my New York
   brethren into a tent to pray for me, and thus risk every evil coming through
   their possible misapprehensions of my moral state. This I did, and when I
   had stated my object and purpose, I asked them to pray for me. I had an idea
   that they would pray for me with all their might, and possibly create a
   wave, so to speak, on which my little bark could come to land. They began to
   pray at random, for everybody, and everything, without touching my case,
   just as people generally pray when they don’t expect any thing. I was now
   compelled to learn that no delegated power could reach my case, and I must
   go to God for myself. I then, while still on my knees, concluded to do my
   own praying and struggling; and supposing that the successful mode of prayer
   must be that which is characterized by great vehemence and will power, I
   watched my opportunity to break out in vociferous tones, and then I tried
   it; but I could not have uttered a loud word if it would have saved me, for
   my lips seemed to be sealed. This taught me the meaning of the words, “Not
   by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.”

   “I then turned to look into my heart to see what progress I was making, and
   was overwhelmed to find nothing but what caused loathing and abhorrence. It
   seemed to me that I had lost all my religion in trying to get more. The
   enemy now suggested, “You have lost all in trying to get holiness; you might
   better give up the struggle if such is to be the success of your effort,”
   and believing this to be a fact, I arose and left the tent to mourn over my
   last and greatest calamity. As I was passing along I met the good old man
   again, and while telling him what a disaster I had met with in trying to get
   holiness, I asked, “Don’t you think I have done wrong in aspiring after such
   an exalted state of grace? I know I have lost all I had, for I certainly had
   the witness of the Spirit when I left New York, but now it is gone.”

   “Why, bless your dear heart,” said this good man, “don’t you know the Lord
   is just emptying you?’ Then, in a few words he set me right again. I had
   supposed holiness to be given in installments, and when a Succession of
   blessings combined had filled my heart about so full, I might call it
   holiness; first, the pardon of sins, then the joys of salvation, and then a
   succession of indefinite blessings, which in the aggregate would make up the
   sum total of holiness. Now I learned that every blessing I ever had must be
   emptied out, for God would not till a vessel with the wine of Canaan while
   it was half full of manna. I had now passed the days for relishing manna,
   and my Father had enough of the old corn and wine and this hereafter was to
   be my food. I had been seeking the last installment to complete the
   blessing.

   “I now asked him, “What shall I do?

   “Said he, “You must believe for the blessing.”

   “I went out into the grove alone, and while waiting upon the Lord and trying
   to believe, I thought I saw Jesus with my inner eye, just as I saw him at
   the time of my conversion. It was the appearance of Jesus as crucified. A
   voice seemed to say to me, “All you can do now is to believe in this
   crucified man, Jesus’ (for the time his divinity was hidden from me). But
   the idea of trusting my soul’s salvation on a dead man, aroused all my old
   infidel notions: and I dared not risk it. That image appeared as distinctly
   as that of a person to my outward eye. He seemed to be in the twilight, and
   but a few rods distant from me. The camp meeting came to a close, and I went
   away without the great blessing.

   “So away I went to another camp meeting which was to be held the next week.
   There again I stirred up myself to a desperate effort to seek for holiness,
   but with no appreciable advance! One day some one told me that the Palmers
   from New York were on the ground, and had a tent for the promotion of
   holiness. This family I feared more than the enemy of all righteousness; but
   as my success in seeking holiness was so poor, I finally thought I would
   find that tent and take a seat in some corner where if I saw they were
   pressing error upon the people I could quietly leave them. Strange as it may
   seem, an impression beset me that they might, without, or against my reason,
   or consent, fasten error upon me; so I resolved to be on the alert, and if I
   saw it coming to avoid it by flight. I reached the tent and took my seat as
   I had determined. I saw here a large number of persons, and among them some
   Presbyterians, and some of other denominations. They were all sitting very
   composedly while one was reading from the Bible. I thought, “Can this be the
   way to seek holiness? I wonder that they don’t get down and pray with all
   their might!” Still I could not complain of their reading the Bible, for
   that must be right. After the reading a lady arose whom I guessed to be the
   one from New York, whom I most feared, and I thought, I must now be on my
   guard; but the first words she uttered were, “I beseech you therefore,
   brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living
   sacrifice, holy and acceptable, unto God, which is your reasonable
   service.” A living sacrifice,” she said, “is a perpetual sacrifice.” Well,
   thought I, that is Bible, and all right, so far. She then went on to state
   the preliminary steps to be taken: “First, a thorough consecration of
   ourselves to God. “Very well,” said I to myself, “all this I have done, over
   and over again.” She then made this entire consecration to appear as a
   reasonable demand. She also showed the reasonableness of believing that God
   meant what he said, and that he would do w hat he said he would do, and that
   our faith must rest mainly on his promise. “He has said if I will do thus
   and so, he will meet me there and then, and faith consists in taking him at
   his word.”

   “I then saw the way of faith as never before, and I said to myself, “I have
   tried everything else but faith; I will now go out and make an
   experiment.” So I went out back of the encampment and stood reviewing my
   consecration to be certain that all was thoroughly devoted to God in an
   everlasting covenant. In a moment there appeared to me that image of Christ
   crucified; but I saw only his humanity. I seemed to be standing upon the
   edge of a fathomless gulf, and Christ stood upon the opposite side. The
   distance seemed too far for me to leap it, yet it was the thing for me to
   do. I must trust that crucified Christ to save me from ruin. It seemed to me
   that if I should make the effort and it prove a failure, I must from that
   moment bid adieu to all hopes of the world of blessedness, and abandon the
   profession of religion forever. I saw that everything I hoped, feared and
   desired was now, with all that I expected in the world to come, all, all to
   be staked on a single act, to be lost or won forever. I was intensely
   aroused by the thought of hazarding every hope of heaven like that, and I
   offered this prayer, “O Lord, thou knowest all hearts, and that I want to do
   thy will. I have tried honestly to know all, and to do all I could to get
   right, and thou knowest that I stand ready to do or to suffer anything
   imposed upon me by which to secure the great blessing of perfect love. I
   have tried everything but this single and apparently inefficient and
   hopeless act of faith, which looks to my reason more like presumption than
   like an act that can do me good; and now, O God, seeing no other untried
   way, I will make the venture, and if it fails, on thee must rest the
   responsibility. If I am lost for believing in Christ, I cannot help it.”

   “I seemed now to open converse with the Holy Ghost, and asked, “How shall I
   believe? with my head or with my heart?”

   “The answer came, “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with
   the mouth confession is made unto salvation.”

   “I now made the leap, as distinctly as if it had been in body, and in the
   same moment found myself in the arms of Jesus, who held me safely. I felt
   that I could risk a world in his hands; for I saw that “in him dwelleth all
   the fullness of the Godhead bodily.”

   “Oh, how changed did all things seem in that glorious moment! ” Surely,”
   said I, ‘this must be heaven, or like it, for it comes up to my highest
   ideal of that place.”

   “The next moment the enemy suggested, “This is not the blessing of holiness,
   for you did not lose your strength, nor have you shouted, or made any great
   ado about it; but on the other hand you do not want to speak aloud.” And it
   did seem as though a single loud word would mar the rich spell which held me
   captive.

   “I then took my eye of faith off from the Saviour, to examine this
   temptation, and in a moment I was back on the other side of the gulf again,
   and was as empty as ever. “Well,” said I, to myself, “I felt all right while
   believing.” That emboldened me to try again, and with greater daring than
   before, and with the same happy result.

   “Now the temptation, “You cannot keep it,” took my eye off again, and again
   I was back on the other side of the gulf. I then sprang off again, when the
   tempter said, “No one will believe you,” and again succeeded in robbing me
   of my witness.

   “And so did I alternate between faith and doubt, joy and sorrow, until I
   learned this fact, that it is not for believing, but while believing that
   the work is done. I hang upon the atonement, and realize the response of the
   Holy Spirit assuring me that the work is done. So I now determined to make
   the leap again, and to keep my eye on Christ. This I did; but the enemy
   asked, “How will it be tomorrow?”

   “I answered, “I don’t know, for tomorrow has not yet come.

   “Well, how will it be in five minutes?”

   “I answered, “I don’t know nor will I concern myself about it; I believe I
   am saved now.” I now saw the philosophy of faith. I breathe but one breath
   of air at a time; that is all I need; when I want another, it will be
   allowed. So I do not need a stock of the joys of salvation for future use,
   but take it, breathe it, by acts of faith just as I have need. Continuously
   acting faith brings a continuous supply. Faith to the soul is what breathing
   is to the body.

   “Now, too, I learned the philosophy of consecration. It is to make room by
   emptying out the heart.

   “Now,” said the Holy Spirit, “go and tell brother M_____ what the Lord has
   done for you.”

   “I went onto the campground and when I found him, I began: “Brother M_____,
   I believe”--

   “If you tell him,” said the tempter, “he’ll tell you to be very careful
   about making great professions, for sanctification is a very great
   blessing.”

   “Brother M stood gazing at me without saying a word.

   “Then I began again, “Brother M_____, I believe,” but fearing he would think
   I was boasting, I began to qualify my statement, but did not speak, and
   finally broke out, “if I don’t keep it five minutes, I believe that Jesus
   has sanctified my unworthy heart. Glory to God!”

   “Said Brother M_____, “Go and tell my wife.”

   “I had now gathered strength by the testimony I had given, and the
   confidence Brother M_____ seemed to express; and away I went to his wife,
   and said to her, “Sister M_____ Jesus has given me the great blessing.”

   “She rejoiced, and said, “Now go up on the stand and profess it to all the
   people.”

   “I did so, and it seemed to settle and establish me.

   “From this I learned to confess the exact thing done for me, and to guard
   against even hesitation in professing the thing as it is.

   “Dr. Palmer found me, and said, “Mr. Wesley says that one sanctification is
   equal to ten conversions, as it will result in that.”

   “I took a cue for my future labors from this, and resolved to make a test of
   it now. I went into a tent and began at once to invite my brethren to come
   now to the cleansing blood. We started a meeting, and God began at once to
   work in awful power. I have always found that making the experience of
   holiness the principal feature in revival meetings does not hinder the work
   of conversions. Here one or two penitents came in unasked, and one said, “I
   was impressed to come to this very tent.” In a few minutes they were
   converted. The work in this manner increased until the end of the camp
   meeting.

   “Now I began to learn a distinction between the joys of sanctification and
   those of justification. Formerly, if a camp meeting had been a good one, I
   would feel sad to leave the hallowed spot. The striking of the tents was to
   me like a funeral. Now I found it a matter of joy, for I carried a camp
   meeting with me. In holiness I found all the elements of a good meeting.
   When I reached my room in the city, the thought came, “You will sleep off
   all this as you have other blessings.” I retired to rest, and the last words
   from my lips were, “Glory to God!” When I awoke in the morning, it was
   “Glory to God!” still. Thus I found the old corn and wine of the Canaan of
   perfect love was unlike the manna of justification, it was hearty, solid and
   abiding. Sabbath came, and I found no more shrinking from doing duty. I went
   over to the church, and in offering the closing prayer I had special
   liberty, and was sweetly blessed.

   “On passing down the aisle a good brother met me and said, “Do you know how
   you prayed? Why you prayed directly to Christ, and you did not even mention
   the name of God, but seemed to pray as if you could get anything you asked
   of Jesus.”

   “Well, brother, it did seem to me that “in him dwelt all the fullness of the
   Godhead bodily.” And don’t you know that Jesus said once, “Hitherto ye have
   asked nothing in my name. Ask and receive that your joy may be full.”

   “I now felt the power of the words, “No man can call Jesus Lord, but by the
   Holy Ghost,” as never before. It seemed no risk to hang a world’s salvation
   on the merits of Christ. In this light I saw the sin of unbelief to be the
   great soul-destroying sin of the world, and in comparison with it murder,
   robbery, and other sins were of small account.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 15

   Mr. Redfield’s pastor was a good man, but he did not enjoy the experience of
   entire sanctification. Like a true man, he stood by this doctrine of the
   church. He said, that some years before, while he was earnestly seeking it,
   the blessing began to come upon him in great power, and he was tempted to
   believe that it would take his life, and he refused it. From that time he
   had thought that he must pass through life without it as a punishment.
   Strange as it may seem, many intelligent and sound theologians are troubled
   with just such difficulties. While this man could not enter into the work
   with the zest which otherwise might have characterized him, he encouraged
   others in the work.

   With a full heart and strong purpose Mr. Redfield set about inviting his
   brethren and sisters to claim their privilege of enjoying this great
   blessing. He was a Class Leader, and besides attending his own, he visited
   other classes; attended all the prayer meetings, and preached often. He
   appointed one meeting each week for the promotion of holiness and in it God
   wrought in great power. Holiness became the theme all through the society,
   and in the neighborhood; and in a very short time there were more than one
   hundred who could testify in love-feast that they were fully saved. These
   all became workers for God, in season and out of season, for the conversion
   of sinners. The latter now began to fill the meetings, and soon to seek the
   Lord, and sanctifications rapidly followed justifications, and the laborers
   increased in the same proportion, and so the work went on.

   One sister who kept a school did her own housework, took care of her
   children, and prepared all the meals for her husband, yet found time to
   bring from six to twelve sinners to Jesus every week. The work of
   conversions at last broke out with great power, and extended rapidly, until
   the membership ran up from five hundred to nine hundred, and the society had
   to be divided, and then again the second time, and furnished a large number
   for a third church. A heavy church debt was also rapidly decreasing by the
   freewill offerings of the people. Visitors from other churches, and from the
   country, some from sixty miles away, came to gain a knowledge of full
   salvation, and then returned to spread the holy fire. Speaking of these
   times, Mr. Redfield says:

   “I wish the truth did not require the statement of some facts that show that
   the work at that date met with hindrances. Justice to the cause of holiness
   requires me to do it, that the honest hearted may know that the slow
   progress, and almost final extinction of this blessed doctrine, was by no
   means due to any inherent weakness in itself. It began to wane under the
   combined hostility of a few who would not pay the price of getting right
   with God. Some of them had dances in their houses; some said, “We want no
   more revivals in our church, for it dirties up the house, and if sinners
   desire to get religion let them go somewhere else, we have enough members
   now for one church.” Others cried out for order, and neatness, and taste,
   lest their children go off to other and more fashionable churches. So they
   had the church newly and fancifully painted on the inside, introduced
   instrumental music for the choir; then sold the seats. Then God quit them,
   the congregations ran down, church debts ran up, and the last end was worse
   than the first. And then the complaint was heard, that “Redfield had done
   more hurt than good.” Some who had professed to believe in holiness began a
   determined warfare against it. They would go to some who professed to have
   experienced the blessing, and begin thus: “You say you are sanctified, do
   you?

   “In great modesty they would reply, “I do believe Jesus has wrought that
   great work in my heart.”

   “Then these opposers would say, “You must be very careful how you profess
   anything like that, for some people simply get excited and call that
   sanctification. I have been praying for it a good many years, and I have not
   got it yet; nor do I know how long before I shall get it. Besides, we think
   you who have been converted only a short time, do not treat us old people
   with due consideration, even if you do enjoy the experience when you step in
   before us and profess it.”

   “I asked one who made this complaint to me, “How long have you been seeking
   the experience?’

   “Twenty-six years,” he answered.

   “How much nearer are you to it now than twenty-six years ago?’

   “He hesitated, and finally answered, “I cannot say that I am any nearer to
   it.”

   “Well, at this rate, how much longer will it take you to get it?’

   “This stopped his caviling with me, but not his hostility to the work.

   “Such arguments against the possibility of young converts entering into the
   experience so early, caused many of them to give up the doctrine and the
   testimony, and then they lost the witness of it. Then these opposers would
   approach them, and ask, “Do you think you have sanctification now?’ The
   answer would be honestly given, “I am not clear, I may be mistaken.” Then
   the opposer, in triumph would say, “If you had really received it you would
   not have lost it so easily.”

   “I was, of course, deeply grieved and hardly knew what to do. I had felt so
   sure that I had found the secret of how to convert the world, and believed
   that Methodists and Methodist preachers needed only to see the practical
   workings of their own doctrine, and they would at once return to it in
   preaching and practice, and their methods and polity would enable them to
   take the world. I believed, though, that this manifestation of opposition
   was exceptional and that this doctrine of the Wesleys, Fletcher, Bramwell,
   Abbott and Fisk would yet succeed. I determined not to abate one jot, but to
   keep on preaching and pressing the doctrine which I knew from the experiment
   so far, would work wonder in saving sinners. I felt to say, “I know this to
   be right, and if everybody fights it, it is of God, and I’ll stand by it, if
   I stand alone.”

   “I now felt my commission to the world was renewed and extended, and I
   determined that, regardless of difficulties, “I will go as far as I can and
   stop only when I must; if I never get through I will try, and if I die, I
   will die trying, and at my post; and like the old Syracusan, when he had
   discovered the power of the lever, I’ll cry, “Eureka! Eureka!” I have found
   it, I have found it. For if some oppose, some will embrace the blessed
   doctrine, and the results will give them confidence, and Methodism will
   fulfill its mission in the world. Whether I am countenanced by men or not, I
   do know, bless the Lord, that Jesus approves of me, in my purposes and
   course; and whatever becomes of me, the world shall have it to say, that
   there is one man who will either prove true to God or die trying. If some
   will pull down the work of God, I must work the harder and faster to build
   it up.

   “I was soon to be put to the test. Not long after this a brother came to me
   one day and said, “You must not go to your class tonight, you must attend
   the official meeting, for there is trouble about to come on you. You must
   not be surprised if your class-book is taken from you, and if your meetings
   for holiness are stopped.”

   “What is the matter?” I asked.

   “Some of the official board dislike your talking about holiness very much,
   and they say you have already done more harm than you can do good.”

   “But, with this wonderful work of God before me, I failed to see the evil
   they claimed I was doing, and believing that God bade me go on, I said to
   him, “I can’t go to the official meeting, for God wants me to go to the
   class meeting.

   “Another and another came to me with the same message, and one of them said,
   “If you don’t go, I shall.” I told them all, “God calls me to my class, and
   he will defend his own cause. If not, I don’t want to contend for anything
   he will not stand by.”

   “The preacher then came and advised me to go, but I answered, “With all
   deference to you as my pastor, I must decline, for I feel I must go to any
   class and leave consequences with God.”

   “When I went into the classroom I found it filled as full as it could be,
   while the passage way was full out to the street. In opening the meeting by
   prayer, I said, “O Lord, if we are engaged in a work that pleases thee; if
   this is thy cause, give us a token in such a blessing as we have not
   known.” Instantly fifteen or twenty were struck down by the power of God,
   myself among the number.

   “The commotion was as great outside the classroom as inside. As soon as I
   could speak, I said, “Go on! for you have a greater leader than man
   tonight.” Immediately one sister who had recovered her strength arose and
   said, “I have been powerfully tempted this day, from hearing that there was
   going to be an attempt made to stop these meetings, and to take Brother
   Redfield’s class-book from him, and I have been praying about it all day,
   and just before night I got the witness that God would not allow it to be
   done.”

   “Then arose another, and another, and still another, until some twelve or
   fourteen had testified in like manner as to their temptations, their prayers
   and the answer to their prayers, in regard to the matter. Of course they
   could not know beforehand what the action of the official board would be.
   The meeting closed and the next day I heard from the board as follows “A
   motion was made to arrest the holiness work and put a stop to the meetings;
   but the preacher in charge interposed by saying, “While I am in the chair, I
   shall exercise my prerogatives, by not putting any such motion to vote. If
   you pass them without me, I shall act upon my authority, and tell yon that
   you cannot interfere with those meetings, or abridge Brother Redfield’s
   liberties.”’

   “All at once one or two of the strongest opposers to the work arose and
   confessed that they felt their opposition to be wrong, and that they were
   contending against God. For awhile the opposition ceased and the glorious
   work went on.

   “One evening I shall never forget. We were in the main audience-room. I had
   been urging the membership to seek holiness, as the best means of promoting
   a revival, and that sinners would be convicted while the church was seeking
   holiness. They came around the altar, filled it, and then the large aisles,
   nearly to the doors. I saw a door open and in came a man, who pushed his way
   through the mass kneeling in the passage, until he reached the altar, and
   then extending his hand to mine, said, “As I was passing the church a moment
   ago, and knew not what was going on here, I was suddenly impressed to come
   in; for what I could not tell; but now I know; and I ask, “Is there
   salvation for me?” He then knelt among the seekers.”

   Soon after a delegation from another church waited upon Mr. Redfield and
   invited him to come and labor with them, saying, “We believe if you will
   come we will have a revival.” Said he, “Brethren, if you desire a revival,
   let your church seek holiness, and God will work among sinners at the same
   time.” He finally went and preached as well as he could to the church and to
   sinners, but without any results. He then, one evening, appealed to the
   church again, and urged them to seek holiness; and after stating the cost
   and condition connected with it, invited the membership to the altar; at the
   same time barely saying to the unconverted, “If you, desire religion you may
   come too;” when eleven immediately came. He went home and in a week or ten
   days he was sent for again. The committee said, “You must come again, for
   the revival has come to a stop.”

   He asked, “But were not the eleven converted?”

   “Oh, yes, they answered “and then it all went down.”

   “But, have any of the church members experienced holiness?” he asked.

   “Oh, no, we were so rejoiced to see sinners get religion, that we forgot all
   about that.”

   “I thought so,” was his reply.

   He was persuaded to go again, but he had no success. At last he said to the
   church, “You know, brethren, what God did when I was here before. Now try it
   over again, and hold on until God saves you. They came forward again, and
   nine sinners followed them to the altar; and the meeting went on for some
   time with great success.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 16

   The annual conference came on, and there was a change of pastors. The new
   pastor was a younger man than his predecessor. He was evidently ambitious,
   and tried hard to please the party opposed to holiness, as that was the
   predominant party in the church. When his first year was drawing to a close,
   and the time for the last quarterly conference was at hand, Mr. Redfield was
   laboring some eight miles up the river above the city. A revival of glorious
   power was in progress, and it seemed to be his duty to stay with it. He
   called on his pastor one day and asked him to look after the passing of his
   character, and the renewing of his license. His pastor assured him that this
   would be done. He went back to his work, and soon after learned that his
   pastor took advantage of his absence, to bring in a complaint of heresy
   against him, and the question of the renewal of his license was laid over.
   But the presiding elder sent word to him to go on, and he would sustain him.
   He labored on until the next quarterly conference, and when the time came
   was greatly tempted to let this obstruction settle the question as to his
   continuing in the work; and let those who opposed bear the responsibility.
   Then came again the message, “Live while you preach, but no longer.” Both
   sides of the case were vividly presented to his mind, the fearful
   consequences of not going forward, and the blessedness of heaven’s approval
   should he diligently pursue the path of duty. Yet he suffered much over the
   thought that those who should have made the way smooth for him, were hedging
   it up. He could but say, “If they knew how much of suffering it costs me to
   follow this path, and would ask themselves what motive must it be that
   governs him, they would not do so.”

   With great reluctance he attended the quarterly conference. There was a full
   attendance of its membership, numbering forty-five or fifty. At the
   appropriate time he was called upon to answer to the charge of heresy. It
   consisted of two points; first, his views of the nature of the millennium;
   and second, his views of the doctrine of Christian perfection. He arose, and
   invited all to correct him, if he did not tell the truth, and to prompt him,
   if he did not tell all the truth. When he had finished his statement of his
   views, respecting the first, the presiding elder said, “Brethren, we must
   accept of his views, for he is with Dr. Clarke. He now asked for the same
   thoroughness on the second complaint. He told them his experience, as much
   of it as had a bearing on the doctrine of specific holiness, of his
   teaching, preaching and belief. When he had finished, the elder again
   interposed, and said, “Brethren, we must accept of that, for he is exactly
   with Mr. Wesley.”

   The call was then made for a vote on the renewal of his license, which was
   granted by a vote of forty to five.

   He then told the conference he had a little business for them to do. He
   said, “During the past three months, the report has been kept in circulation
   that my own church would not renew my license, and the public know not the
   cause; and even some preachers to whose charges I have been invited, have
   had to search for these facts to satisfy their official boards, before they
   would consent to allow me to labor among them. I now desire you to give me a
   certificate stating that I have been examined on the points of doctrine for
   which my license was suspended, and that I have been exonerated from the
   charge of heresy, and found to be a sound Methodist.”

   At this his pastor arose and said, he could not vote Mr. Redfield a sound
   Methodist, because, said he, “We as a church do not believe with either
   Clarke or Wesley on these points, but with Benson.”

   One of the official board who was grieved that Mr. Redfield was let off so
   easily, arose and said, “If any man says there is anything in the doctrine
   of sanctification, he’s a liar.”

   The presiding elder exclaimed, “Stop! stop! Brother Redfield is a Methodist
   and you are not. I did not know that this church would tolerate such
   anti-Methodistic doctrines as this.”

   The motion was finally modified to suit the preacher in charge, and read,
   “That the quarterly conference having examined Brother Redfield, found
   nothing against him.”

   Of these proceedings Mr. Redfield says, “Oh, how my heart was pained, not
   only to see this unsoundness as to the truth, but such quibbling and dodging
   when it came to the issue. I also saw that among the preachers there was an
   element that was not Methodistic. Still, my confidence in the ultimate
   success of the doctrine of holiness was unshaken.”

   He soon learned that this hostility was not against himself, but against the
   cause which he represented. He also learned, as many have since, that he who
   declares himself on the side of God, has virtually declared war against
   earth, hell, dead formality, and ambitious ministers of the gospel.

   Mr. Redfield says: “A friend of mine, an uncompromising champion for God and
   the truth, was so much feared, that the preachers in his conference sought
   his ruin. Like the accusers of Daniel, they were compelled to find the
   occasion in his religion. They appointed a preacher’s meeting where each was
   expected to give a specimen of his abilities by reading a sermon or essay,
   which should then be criticized by the rest. They assigned to this brother a
   sermon on holiness. Waiving his scruples against written sermons, he did as
   he was bidden. When the time came the sermon was read, and then the
   criticisms commenced. Said one of the preachers, “I have often heard that
   this brother was antiWesleyan on the doctrine of holiness, and now we have
   heard it from his own lips.” He then followed this with a criticism so
   severe that some began to sympathize with the author of the sermon. And they
   said to him when the first critic was through, “You have a right to defend
   yourself. “Never mind,” said the brother, “go on and say all you wish to.”
   Then another took the sermon to pieces and showed its heretical character.
   Then another, and still another. Finally the presiding elder was called upon
   to make some remarks, but he only said, “The anti-Wesleyan character of the
   sermon is such that I shall have to reprove the brother first, privately,
   according to the Discipline;” intimating by this that he would bring charges
   against him at the conference.

   “Well, are you all through?’ inquired the brother; and on being answered in
   the affirmative, he said, “Now, all I have to say is, I have copied every
   word of that sermon from John Wesley’s, and in my manuscript you will find I
   have given the volume and the page from which it is taken. And I ask, Who is
   Wesleyan, you or I?’

   This was an unexpected turn, and some began to excuse themselves by saying
   they had not refreshed their memories of late by reading Mr. Wesley’s
   writings on the subject. Another attempted to parry the stroke by
   complaining of unfairness in the preacher’s taking out isolated portions of
   Mr. Wesley’ writings and reading them as if they were his own productions.

   This circumstance, when it came to Mr. Redfield’s knowledge, convinced him
   more strongly that the opposition was not personal, but against the cause of
   holiness itself. At the same time he was impressed that he would be made to
   feel this hostility more keenly still, and perhaps would be forced to quit
   the field. But he resolved to go to the last link of the chain, for God and
   purity, and stop only when he could go no farther.

   With a clearer understanding of what it meant, he now more fully than ever
   committed himself to the work of spreading scriptural holiness over the
   land. While aware of the deep-seated opposition to holiness now beginning to
   be manifest, he had the hope that great success, in the conversion of
   sinners, would demonstrate to the preachers that God endorsed the doctrine,
   and at last their opposition would give way. He saw, too, that the
   literature of Methodism and the Discipline were in its favor, and he looked
   to see those who stood out against the doctrine brought to account for their
   criticisms and opposition.

   About this time, also, Rev. L. L. Hamline was elevated to the episcopacy in
   the church, a man whose experience and preaching, and holy life, made him
   one of the brightest examples and witnesses of the doctrine in the annals of
   the church. For many years after this he was the confidential adviser of Mr.
   Redfield, and, to a great extent, guided his labors, as to place and time.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 17

   Mr. Redfield was now invited to join the traveling connection of the
   Methodist Episcopal Church. For a season he looked upon this with favor.

   While considering this matter he became convinced that from some cause many
   of the conference preachers had lost their experiences, and most of them
   their freedom. He searched for the causes of this. He found that most of
   these desired to be and to do right, but that they were timid. Some of them
   acknowledged that they were afraid of proscription in case they should make
   a specialty of the doctrine and experience of holiness. In view of this, and
   of the fact that he felt more especially called to the work of an
   evangelist, he concluded that his place was in the local ranks. Here he
   would be more free to go where the way opened before him.

   At this time there were but few evangelists in the field. It was the
   beginning of a new era of evangelistic effort. James Caughey had just
   commenced his great work, and was going like a flame of fire over England
   and Ireland.

   John Newland Maffit, one of the most eloquent preachers of this century, had
   been laboring as an evangelist throughout the country with marked success;
   but the eclipse of his brilliant career, which by many was believed to be
   the result of his own indiscretion, now produced a public sentiment in
   regard to evangelistic work which was embarrassing and unfavorable to others
   who would enter upon it. Finney and Burchard of the Presbyterian Church, and
   Knapp among the Baptists, were the leading men, if not the only ones in this
   particular department of church work, except Mr. Redfield, who represented
   the Methodist Episcopal Church.

   We have seen the terrific struggles through which he passed before he would
   consent to enter the sacred office. Now we see him about to enter its most
   untried and difficult phase of work. His first thought was to go where there
   were no organized churches, and so become a pioneer to other local preachers
   in such fields. But the trusting, “Man proposes, but God disposes,” has been
   made a truism by such experiences as we are now contemplating.

   At this very time he had been invited to go up the river about twenty miles
   above New York city, and add his efforts to the labors of other local
   preachers who had broken the ground and, as he says, “begun to see some
   hopes of good.” He found that formerly the people here had heard but two
   sermons a year, and those on weekday afternoons, and by a rank
   Predestinarian. Mr. Redfield’s first visit was on a beautiful Sunday; and
   the first service was in a grove. The people came from miles away. The
   evening meetings were held in private houses, and God was present to save.
   He says the people were simple-hearted and natural. They used no fine
   phrases nor religious cant, for they were utterly unused to listening to the
   relation of Christian experience.

   “At a meeting one day in a private house, a woman with a child in her arms
   sat swaying to and fro with suppressed emotion, when her face suddenly
   whitened out. Another woman seeing the state of things, took her child from
   her, when she arose and said, “I don’t know as I have got this good religion
   what I hear you talk about, but I do feel so good and warm all along up
   here,” at the same time putting both hands on her breast. It required no
   doctor of divinity to tell that she was happily converted to God. Soon forty
   or fifty were converted and formed into a class, and then the people set to
   work to build a church. In eleven months from the time of the first
   conversion, the house was finished, paid for, and I was invited to come and
   preach the dedicatory sermon. It was in the evening. Just before preaching I
   said to the first convert, “Jacob, when I am done preaching, I want you to
   give an exhortation from the altar, and invite the people to come forward to
   seek religion.” When I was through he did as I told him, and such another
   exhortation I never heard. Its effects convinced me that God’s tools are
   adapted to their work, and far more efficient when selected from among the
   people who are saved, than all the labored and scientific productions of
   those inexperienced in the things of God can be.

   “The exhortation ran something like this: Now, sinners, I tell you, look
   a’ here; I tell you, you don’t know how good this good religion is. Oh, I
   wish you would come up here and kneel down and get it! You know I used to
   drink rum like anything, and swear, and play cards. But, oh! how good this
   good religion!’! Oh, do come, and kneel down and get it.”

   “To my astonishment stouthearted men as well as others flocked to the altar
   of prayer. When the meeting closed, I said to Jacob, “You and I must go all
   over this place and exhort the people to get religion; and we will begin
   tomorrow morning.”

   “In the morning we started on our mission. In the first house we visited
   were two families. In the first room sat an elderly woman weeping, who was
   at the meeting the night before. Jacob left me to talk with her, and he went
   into the other part of the house to talk with those there. As soon as he was
   gone the old woman said to me with deep emotion, Oh, that sermon Jacob
   preached last night made me determine to get this good “religion.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 18

   Mr. Redfield was now invited to a church in one of the suburbs of New York
   city. This church was sustained, mostly by the Home Missionary Society. He
   found a small class of humble people, who had been kept down by the
   proselytizing efforts of a worldly church in the same community. One of the
   difficulties had been that the revivals in the Methodist Episcopal Church
   had been of such a superficial character, that this proselytizing was
   possible. Deep and thorough religious experiences would not be so easily
   overcome. As this church was fashionable and worldly, he was satisfied that
   it was from no abundance of piety that it so strongly persisted in its
   attempts to draw away the Methodist converts. He clearly saw that the only
   protection to those who would be converted in his meetings, as well as the
   prosperity of the church for which he labored, was to lay the foundations of
   the revival in holiness. This would be so out of harmony with the efforts of
   the other church, as to make it difficult for it to sustain a claim to being
   Christian. At the same time the revival would be seen to be so in harmony
   with the Bible and the will of God, and that would make young converts
   strong to resist proselytizing influences. Again, it would require such a
   deepening of the experiences of those who were already members of the church
   that they would be prepared to lead young converts wisely and safely. This
   church struggle had been of practical benefit to the Methodist class, in
   that it had kept the eyes of the membership open to the evils of worldliness
   in the church, and also the evil of mere church zeal. It also made them the
   more ready to receive and stand by the strong truths of the Bible. Here he
   had an opportunity to labor freely, without opposition from within the fold,
   although there was plenty of opposition without. He scarcely had commenced
   operations, before two clergymen of the other church commenced to war
   against him. At first they advised the people to stay away, because the
   Methodists were simply going to have one of their usual times of excitement.
   When the meetings began to get hold of the people, and particularly of some
   of the more choice in the community, one of these preachers began to visit
   them and to coax them to join his church. It soon became necessary for Mr.
   Redfield to defeat these efforts, if possible, the immediate occasion of
   which, Mr. Redfield says, was as follows:

   “A man who had been converted and whose wife was a seeker, had been strongly
   urged, and finally had consented, to join this minister’s church. One
   evening the man came inside the altar to labor with some of the seekers, and
   I said to him, “I am told that you and your wife design to join the other
   church as soon as she is converted.” Yes,” said he, ‘that is our design.”

   “I said to him, “Don’t you do it; for they will press your religion out of
   you, and press final perseverance into you, and you will lose your soul by
   it. You won’t join them, will you?’

   “No,” said he, “I will not.”

   “I went to his wife, who was kneeling at the altar, and asked her, “Why is
   it you do not find what you are after? Do you give up your whole will to
   God?’

   “Oh, yes; I think it is given up.”

   “Well, if God wants you to join the Methodist Church, will you do it?’

   “She was startled with the question, and I saw her will was against it; and
   fully believing that for her to join that church would be to surround her
   with influences that would make it almost an impossibility for her to be
   saved, I said to her, “You may rest assured, God will never touch your case
   until you are willing to join the Methodist Church.”

   “Do you think so?’ she asked.

   “Yes,” I know it,” I replied.

   “Then, I’ll be willing,” she said.

   “But, will you join the Methodists?’ I asked.

   “Again she seemed to draw back, and I saw that here the difficulty lay; and
   I said, “I am satisfied you will never find the Lord until you make up your
   mind to join the Methodists.”

   “Well, I will,” said she; and instantly shouted, “Glory to God! I have got
   it.”

   “Various other plans were adopted to draw our people away from us, but
   without success. All the converts, without an exception, united with us,
   which so strengthened the society that it ceased to need missionary help,
   and began to help others.

   “After the failure of the two preachers either to stop the revival or
   proselyte from us, their own people dismissed them. One of them was so
   displeased at this that he exposed the fact that there was but one
   communicant in the society, the remainder simply sustaining the minister as
   an item of upper-tendom luxury. The other, for drunkenness, stealing church
   funds, horse-racing and night-revelling, was soon after silenced.” “I have
   also learned that the great opposition to the thorough work of God, is from
   nominal professors of religion, who have never been converted, or who have
   backslidden from a good experience; but the severest of all is from
   professed ministers of the gospel. I also came to know that whatever others
   might say or do, I must maintain God’s rights, and will, at all risk and
   expense. In doing this I found I must contend against any and everything
   that did not bear the mark of God’s approval, and that nothing short of this
   will give that character to the church that will prevent it from downright
   formalism. The supposition that there are redeeming traits in human nature
   which only need disciplining, rather than a radical change; and the use of
   appliances to polish and adorn, instead of rooting them out, will, if
   allowed to prevail, banish heartfelt religion from the world.

   “I have also learned another important lesson, namely, that God demands
   harmony and purity among his people. One night, at this place, when the
   altar was well filled with seekers, we came nearly to a stand-still. My soul
   for a moment seemed crushed within me. I cried to God to remove the
   hindrance; when I was instantly impressed that there were those among us of
   whom God would say, “Remove from before me the vile, and then offer your
   sacrifice., So strongly did this come, and so plainly did it appear to be in
   the way, that I arose from my knees, and getting the attention of the
   congregation, I stated my impressions, and asked that those present who were
   conscious of wickedness in their hearts, and of opposition to the work now
   going on, to have the goodness to leave the house. Three members of the
   class immediately left; but no sooner had they done so than the converting
   power of God fell upon the congregation, and souls that were seeking were
   soon set at liberty. What was more remarkable was the fact that for twelve
   or fourteen successive nights after, we had a like experience until we could
   succeed in getting those very persons to leave. One of those persons was
   afterward expelled for gross immoralities. Another was proverbially
   deficient in the Christian spirit, and the other was hypocritically acting
   the part of a friend to our faces, but behind our backs and with infidels
   talking against the work of God.

   “While we were holding meetings at the church, the colored people held
   meetings in a private house, and the power of God was among them in a
   wonderful manner. One night a young woman who had been under deep awakening
   for some time, suddenly arose and ran toward the door, determined to get
   away from the leadings of the Holy Spirit. Before she reached the door she
   fell to the floor in great agony. She would rise on one elbow and cry, “O
   Lord, have mercy! Lord, have mercy! Lord, have mercy!” and then sink back to
   the floor again, to all appearances, senseless. In a few minutes this was
   repeated, and so continued for seven days and eight nights. Some thought she
   would die, and called me to go and see her, which I did. She had then been
   in this condition several days. I tried to offer Christ to her, and also to
   find out what her particular trouble was. Though I persisted in my efforts
   for some time, and called to her in a loud voice to tell me what the matter
   was, she paid no regard to me, and seemed neither to see nor hear anything.
   Still, at regular intervals she would rise as I have described, and utter
   that cry, and then sink back to the floor again. She obeyed no call of
   nature during this time, except once when she swallowed a few drops of milk
   which was put in her mouth. She lay on a bed prepared for her on the floor,
   and there continued during the period stated. Two Christian women slept in
   the room, nights, to watch her. The eighth night, when all had retired to
   rest, and the light put out, the poor girl continued to be exercised as
   before. At last she changed the wording of her prayer to, “Here, Lord, I
   give myself away. “Tis all that I can do,” and instantly began bounding, and
   jumping, and praising God. As soon as the first gust of glory passed, she
   sank to the floor from weakness caused by her long fasting and want of rest;
   and they fed her by the teaspoonful until she could bear a more hearty meal.
   When she came fully to herself, she said that she had seen the awful state
   of the damned, and it was that which had so distressed her and kept her in
   such agony for so long a time. She proved to be a remarkable specimen of the
   converting power of God.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 19

   The success of the meeting described in the last chapter, deepened Mr.
   Redfield’s convictions that the preaching of holiness would conquer the
   world for Jesus, and that it was his duty to follow the same course wherever
   he went, since it had proved successful in every instance heretofore. In
   conscience he could choose no other course.

   In response to a call, he went to a neighboring city. Before he commenced
   work in the church to which he had been invited, he met the pastor of
   another society in the same city, who desired his services for a few days
   first. A meeting had been in progress here for six weeks, but not one
   conversion had occurred. He accepted the invitation, and went to work.

   Speaking of his experience here he says, “I tried to preach the class of
   truths which the Holy Ghost led me to preach. I called upon the membership
   as Methodists to seek the blessing of holiness, as the sure course to have a
   revival among sinners. But they would not move.” The preacher then expressed
   to them his surprise at this, and urged them to come. But they did not
   respond to his invitation. After the meeting was dismissed some of them
   sharply reproved him for pressing them to take such a stand before the
   world. To save himself he threw the blame on Mr. Redfield, and the next day
   told him plainly that he did not like his preaching, and that he believed he
   was backslidden, and for that reason thought everybody else was. Mr.
   Redfield says, “A few years afterward the same minister astonished me with
   his attentions and endorsement, in a place of considerable importance, where
   the dignitaries of the church, because of my success in the place, were
   paying me unusual attentions. here he could not do enough in words and
   affability to show himself friendly. But his course deeply pained me. I
   thought, if I am not right I ask no man to endorse me, and I value no man’s
   friendship who cannot do it when I am an object of scorn for representing an
   unpopular truth.”

   He returned to the church which first called him. Here he found a people and
   pastor right in theory and effort, and the first night fifteen professed to
   have found the blessing of holiness. The work among sinners also broke out
   in great power; and in a short time about three hundred were converted.

   He now felt sure that the church would see that success would follow the
   preaching of holiness, and the effort would become general. But he was
   doomed to disappointment. He says, “I learned little by little that there
   was a deep-seated hostility to holiness, especially among the preachers, who
   evidently leaned towards a worldly policy, and a desire to prune Methodism
   of all that was objectionable to pleasure-loving professors. I had heard
   that one of our preachers had said in urging worldly people to become
   religious, “The time has come when a man without a profession of religion
   cannot find access to genteel society.” I also had another proof that a
   worldly policy was gaining ground in many places, and that a time-serving
   spirit swayed the councils of the church sometimes. One of the bishops, who
   has since learned that it is hazardous to stand with God against all sin,
   told me of some things that indicated the downward tendency of Methodism to
   an extent that I had not known. He was deeply grieved over it, and feared
   the final results. But he gave me some counsel, advice and encouragement,
   that led me anew to hope for success and to resolve undauntedly to pursue
   the thorough way. I could now say, “I know of one bishop and one preacher
   who will try to stand for God and the right.” I believe that the most of
   them were as they thought in favor of a high degree of piety; but I was
   equally sure that they had more confidence in their own ideas of propriety
   and consistency than they had in the leadings of the Holy Ghost. But in
   charity to them I believed that, taking a rational standpoint, they did the
   best they could. I thought that with the accession of new preachers who were
   clear and straight (and I knew a goodly number of them that were about to
   enter the work), and with one bishop who could be relied upon, that the work
   of holiness would certainly be revived, and we should again see our
   Fletchers and Bramwells and Abbotts, blessed men, whose influence would be
   like ointment poured forth. Again I was doomed to disappointment, for I
   found not only hostility to the doctrine, but successful efforts were put
   forth to put down these revivals, and when it was accomplished, the sneering
   remark would be made, “It is another of Redfield’s revivals, and you see
   what it has come to.”

   At times he would be greatly discouraged, and almost give up the struggle.
   Then the words would come, “Live while you preach, but no longer,” and again
   he would arouse to greater diligence and faithfulness than before. At such
   times the manifestations of the divine favor that he received were beyond
   even his wonderful powers to describe. He would say at such times, “It is
   worth a life of toil and disgrace to feel that God approves, and none can
   know the sweetness of it who has not tasted it.”

   He found new fields of labor were opening before him, and calls came on
   every hand; but, usually, they came from mortgaged churches, and nearly
   extinct societies. Here there was but little to lose, and the authorities
   would give him freedom. This was good so far. To succeed in such places it
   was necessary for him to raise the standard of piety to where the Bible puts
   it, and this would greatly shock both pastor and people. The piety and even
   the morals of the membership were generally of so low a type, and the
   contrast between the standard he presented and the characters they
   manifested was so great that it was with difficulty sometimes that he could
   induce the pastor to suspend judgment until God could redeem his cause by
   giving unwonted success. In speaking of this he says, “The good results of
   course would follow, as God’s Holy Spirit will always work with the
   truth.” When the victory came, pastors would say, “I did not think your
   course would result so gloriously. I shall now know what to do at my next
   station.”

   One said to him about this time, “I once saw things in this light, and tried
   to pursue the course you do, and had the same results; but I found that
   influential ministers in the conference began to look upon me suspiciously,
   and to utter murmurings against me, such as “unsafe,” “injudicious,” “behind
   the times,” “an old fogy,” and “not a good representative of our church.”
   Besides, I knew what they did to other men who took the same course you do;
   they were proscribed, sent to starvation appointments, or were located.”

   Mr. Redfield says the ministers would sometimes ask him, “What system do you
   use, that works so successfully? Do you preach a regular course of
   sermons?”

   “My answer would be, sometimes, “Oh, no! I take the rough, unpopular
   Methodist truths that preachers who hope to be bishops and presiding elders
   dare not use. Though I would leave them at such times evidently in the best
   of feeling, thanking the Lord that one more preacher was won back to
   primitive piety, and could now be depended upon to do thorough work for
   Jesus; still, I have been shocked often to find that within one year the
   same preacher had fallen back to the same state of cowardice, inefficiency
   and indifference, and some of them would enter their protests against the
   Redfield revivals.”

   In one place to which he went, the preacher was sick and unable to attend
   the meetings. The work broke out in glorious power. Some of the members
   immediately began to seek and obtain the experience of perfect love, while
   others opposed it. “When the former would go to the pastor,” says Mr.
   Redfield, “and speak favorably of the meetings, he would fall in with them
   and approve of all. When the latter would complain to him of my preaching on
   dress, etc., he would fall in with them and promise to stop me when he could
   get out. After a little he began to circulate slanderous stories about me.
   These came out after I left. I remarked to some one that I would not be
   surprised if he was out of the ministry in less than five years. In a very
   short time he was called to account for a scandalous crime, and deposed from
   the ministry.”

   He found in this place some who had once enjoyed perfect love, but who, from
   yielding to persuasion not to testify of it, had lost the experience. One of
   them was a Class Leader. When Mr. Redfield began to preach holiness, he was
   the first to come out and seek it. The baptism came upon him in great power.
   He was employed in a large factory, and the next time he went to work he
   asked permission of the foreman to address the other employees on the
   subject of salvation. This was granted, and Catholics and infidels listened
   to him as, with streaming eyes, he told them of Jesus’ power to save. Some
   cold members of the church heard of it, and were terribly shocked at his
   course. But God wonderfully blessed the man; so much so that when he got
   home from his work he sat down and shouted aloud the praises of God. One
   member of the church, greatly shocked, came in great haste for Mr. Redfield
   to go and see the brother. From the words and manner of the messenger he
   supposed the brother was in a fit of some kind, and he caught up his
   medicine case and hurried to the house; but on entering he found the brother
   clapping his hands and shouting, “Glory, glory to God!” while his face shone
   with a heavenly radiance. The excited messenger was now more shocked to hear
   Mr. Redfield join the brother in the praises of God. Excitedly he exclaimed:

   “I don’t like this, at all!”

   “Well, it’s none of your business,” replied Mr. Redfield; “this brother is
   not your property; he belongs to God, and God has a perfect right to bless
   him all he pleases.”

   “But,” said the other, “what if he never gets over this? what will become of
   him?”

   “He’ll never be fit for another horse-race, as long as he lives,” was the
   reply.

   “Well, I wouldn’t have that spell on me for five hundred dollars,” said the
   frightened man.

   “Make yourself perfectly easy about that matter,” said Mr. Redfield, “for I
   assure you, you are in no danger, for God will keep clear of you while you
   are in this mood.”

   “About this time,” says Mr. Redfield, “I was called to go and visit a lady,
   dying with the consumption. She was reduced to a mere skeleton, and to all
   appearances, might die that night. I tried to point her to Jesus as the
   great physician of souls, and besought her to cast herself upon him at once.
   To encourage her, I told her of a man whom I had lately visited, who was
   sick like her, and without hope, but who was so desirous of salvation that
   he tried to get on his knees, though he was so weak that as often as he made
   the effort he would fall over. But he found the Lord, and died in peace. I
   told her she need not try to get on her knees; that the Lord could hear her
   just as well when she was lying down. But as soon as I was gone she insisted
   upon getting on her knees, and with the assistance of a woman who was
   watching with her, she was enabled to do so, and while kneeling by her
   bedside the Lord saved her and healed her in the same moment. One or two
   Sabbaths after that she was in church, giving glory to God, who had healed
   her soul and body.

   “Soon after this, I was called to see a brother who had lately been
   converted, but was now dying with the consumption. I found him apparently
   breathing his last. His wife and sister stood weeping by his bedside; and
   looking on was his only child, just old enough to know that his father was
   sick, and that his mother and aunty were feeling badly. The sick man was
   suffering terribly from suffocation, but his face was filled with smiles. I
   said to him, “Dear brother, if you are able to speak again, tell me if you
   feel Jesus sustains you.”

   “With a desperate effort, in monosyllables, he answered, “Oh, — yes; — I —
   am — so — hap — py — I — don’t — feel — it — and — if — this — is — to — be
   — my — heaven — for — ev — er, —its —e — nough.”

   “I was also invited to go and see a good old sister who, for many years, had
   enjoyed a deep experience in the things of God, but who was now passing away
   to the spirit land. I went in company with her Class Leader, and when we
   entered the stairway leading to her room, the counseling physicians in the
   hall at the head of the stairs had just given the opinion that she was then
   dying. We were invited into the room, and her daughter told her that we had
   come, and then with her ear close to the old lady’s lips, she was able to
   get her request for us to pray. This we did, and then withdrew but scarcely
   had we got outside the door when her spiritual vision caught a full view of
   her coming Lord, and so great was the strength imparted by it that she
   raised to a sitting posture in the bed, and waving her hand in triumph,
   declared that she saw Jesus; and continued thus to triumph until she passed
   beyond the clouds.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 20

   When the spring came Mr. Redfield went to Long Island to spend the summer
   and recruit. He preached in the villages on Sunday and attended prayer and
   class meetings during the week. Before preaching he would go into the woods
   and plead with God until he received assurances of divine help.

   Referring to these times, he says: “While under the Spirit’s influence and
   power in preaching, I would often see and proclaim truths that put my own
   experience and piety to the test. I have profited more by trying to practice
   the truths which I have seen at such times, than from the preaching of
   others.”

   At a camp meeting in the early fall, his presiding elder requested him to
   supply a vacant pulpit until the season for holding revival meetings. This
   charge had been abandoned by the preacher appointed by the conference. Mr.
   Redfield had no sooner consented to go than he was advised by an old
   preacher not to go, for, said he: “In all my labors for twenty six years I
   have never seen a place so hopeless.” But Mr. Redfield resolved to make the
   trial. When he arrived at the place, he learned that the society was
   organized by Jesse Lee, of blessed memory, who at the time was sent of God
   in answer to prayer; that the church had once been in a flourishing
   condition; that four classes had been reduced to one; that many of the
   members had not been in class for three years; that one leader had not met
   his class for a year; that some of the members were Universalists; that some
   were habitual drinkers; and that there was an old, unsettled quarrel of
   twenty years’ standing between some of the members. This made him very sad.
   He says: “My first visit was to an old man, the principal on one side in
   that quarrel. He asked me if I had come to be their preacher. I told him I
   had. “Well,” said he, ‘there is no use, unless you put the people through a
   course of discipline.” He then, in a rapid and zealous manner, began to
   bring their sins to light, and to tell me how much he had suffered by them.
   I said, “Hold on a moment.”

   “I tell you,” said he, “they are not worthy of church fellowship.”

   “Wait a moment I interposed.

   “Oh, there’s no use of your trying to do anything here amid so much of
   wrong; and everybody knows it.”

   “I had to let him go on. When at last he was almost out of breath, I managed
   to make him hear me and got him stopped. I then said: “Now, brother, you are
   much older than I am, and I don’t feel myself capable of attempting to
   settle the matter until I have asked God for wisdom.” At this I knelt, and
   he knelt with me. I then determined not to rise until God melted his heart.
   I struggled in prayer for some time, when at last he began to cry out, “O my
   God, what have I been about! Lord, have mercy upon me! Oh, how wickedly have
   I sinned against thee!” Finally he said, “I want a meeting called, so that I
   can confess my wrong and my sin, for I am the one to blame. A meeting was
   called and the offended members readily received the old man’s confession
   and forgave him, and the breach was healed.

   “One of my visits was to old Brother V_____’s, who was one of the first
   members that joined the society. At his house, for many years, the few pious
   ones used to meet to ask God to send them a preacher “after his own heart”.
   It was in answer to their prayers that Jesse Lee came and organized them
   into a class. The old brother bad been a very efficient leader and exhorter,
   but now his understanding and memory were in ruins. His good wife said to
   him, “Father, here is the preacher who has been sent to us.” The old man
   raised from his stooping position in the chimney corner, and, with a vacant,
   wavering stare, said, “Why-how-is your mother? Well? Why you look good.” I
   had heard that pious old people, however broken, would sometimes remember
   well matters of religion; and after satisfying myself that he was only able
   to converse in a very incoherent manner, I abruptly inquired, “Father
   V_____, do you know one Jesus of Nazareth?’ Instantly his whole demeanor
   changed, and, with an intelligent air, he answered, “Yes, I have known him a
   great many years. He is my Saviour, and he’ll not turn me off;” and then
   repeated many passages of Scripture and several hymns, so appropriate to the
   thought he first expressed that I was amazed and could hardly assure myself
   that he had not been trying to play a deception upon me.

   “The Sabbath came, and I went to church. A goodly number had come, probably
   from curiosity, to see the new preacher. I had resolved to deliver my own
   soul regardless of persons or conditions, by declaring the whole counsel of
   God. But I saw no favorable indications. After a few efforts during the week
   following to bring about a change, and finding it all in vain, I went to
   sinners and exhorted them to flee from the wrath to come. The response from
   them was, “Go look after your ungodly members.” Sabbath came again, and I
   delivered my message in view of the judgment. When I was leaving the church,
   I met the principal member of the official board, who accosted me thus, “We
   don’t like your preaching here at all, nor the chapters you read from the
   pulpit. Hell is not very popular here.”

   “I inquired, “Will you tell me, brother, what I have preached that is not
   Bible truth?’

   “Well,” said he, “I believe it is true.”

   “Do you want me to preach lies?’ I asked.

   “I went home, weeping along the street. I now saw if I was going to
   accomplish anything, I must do it with my might. So Monday morning I went to
   the grove, and knelt before the Lord in prayer. It seemed as though the
   powers of darkness were all about me. The sensations I experienced were as
   if by the hardest effort I was overcoming great obstacles and rising higher
   and higher until my head struck against a rock, and I sank back overcome. I
   arose and sought another place to plead with God, and there experienced the
   same. Thus I continued day after day through the week. I would go to the
   house once in a while and get something to eat, and then return to the
   struggle. Sometimes my agony was such that it seemed to me I could rend the
   heavens with my cries for the salvation of sinners. It seemed to me that if
   I could hold on until the victory came I should see them saved. When
   Saturday night came my very brain seemed sore, and the jar of my step gave
   me pain. I felt a kind of bewilderment coming on, but I had received no
   answer I had resolved, in the name of God, to see a break and salvation come
   to the church on the next Sabbath, or an end put to its standing as a stench
   in the nostrils of the Almighty and the world.

   “Sunday morning came, and with eyes sore from weeping, and my brain tender
   from the continual struggle of the week, I walked softly and carefully to
   the church, and into the pulpit. In opening the service, I said to the
   membership: “This day ends my labors in this place. You do not want me here,
   and I do not want to stay, for I am heartily tired of pouring water on to
   rocks. But if God will help me, I will either see a break today, or see this
   ungodly apology for Methodism annihilated. I have asked no man’s money; I go
   at my own expense; but I shall go straight for God.” Nothing seemed to move
   in the morning. In the evening I went into the pulpit again, and announced
   that I should redeem my pledge. Of course this aroused their hate to a high
   pitch. As God helped, I pointed out the track of an acceptable disciple, and
   the only one that could possibly pass the gates of Paradise. At the close of
   the sermon, I asked those, and only those who meant it and would take this
   track, and where needed go to their neighbors and confess to them, and pray
   with them, and who would seek for the blessing of holiness until they knew
   they had it, to rise. I didn’t believe I could get them to come forward. Two
   only arose, and they were of the most lowly. “Well,” said I, “there seem to
   be but three of us, counting myself as one, and God besides; but I think we
   will try and have a prayer meeting.” Those two and myself were all that
   would kneel, I in the altar, and they at their seats, about halfway down the
   church. I opened with a short prayer, and began to rise in spirit until I
   struck that rock again. I then asked some one else to pray, but no one
   responded, and I tried again with the same experience and result, and the
   third time, and the fourth, and fifth, until the sixth time, in immediate
   succession. I now felt that this is the last time, and that if I did not get
   the victory, God would say to me, “Let them alone.” The case was a desperate
   one, and I knew the world and the devil were against me, and the church
   members who would not kneel; but I said in my prayer, “O God, I’ll go as far
   as I can.” Again in spirit I began to rise, and soon I struck that rock
   again, and it seemed to shiver to atoms. Instantly the house was filled with
   the divine glory. The two who were kneeling with me fell, and their shouts
   and screams were so loud that they alarmed the village. The people came
   running in to see what was the matter, and as they crowded up the aisles and
   saw the two prostrate under the power of God, tears chased each other down
   their faces; and the poor tempted members began one after another to confess
   their hostility, and ask for pardon, and promised to take the track pointed
   out to them. I staid one more week, and forty-five sinners were converted.
   The preacher who had abandoned the work returned, and the revival went on in
   power for some time. Ten or fifteen years afterward, I heard from that
   society, and it still was doing well.”

   He was now waited upon by a preacher from a place about seven miles away,
   who said, “I want you to come to our church. We have been holding meetings
   for three weeks, and not one soul is yet converted. And it is the request of
   the Baptist and Presbyterian ministers also, for you to come. He went, and
   without consulting the minister as to what course he should pursue, he
   followed what be believed to be the leadings of the Holy Spirit. The first
   night while he was preaching, some arose and went out of the house in great
   haste, slamming the doors as they went; but they soon returned, and did the
   same thing over again. He learned after the meeting was dismissed that they
   were members of the church who took this method to show their disapproval of
   his preaching. They went to the preacher and told him that he must send Mr.
   Redfield away, or he would ruin the church. The Baptist and Presbyterian
   ministers gave him similar advice. The next night the congregation was
   larger than before, though these opposers had prophesied to the contrary. He
   preached as he felt God desired him to. Now none even came to the altar, and
   it was said he had broken up the revival. Two or three who had been forward
   before he came now refused to come. He sent the next day to see what the
   difficulty was, and was informed that they had no design of changing their
   lives at all, but had thought if the Methodists praying for them would do
   them any good, they were willing to let them do it. Now they did not care to
   go any farther. From this Mr. Redfield was satisfied that he had not harmed
   the revival, and resolved to keep on in the track on which he had started.
   Now the opposers became very angry, and began to advise the people to stay
   away, for the preacher was not fit to be heard, and was no proper
   representative of Methodism. A prominent infidel met some of them face to
   face, and said, “Let that man alone; he is the only honest man among you,
   for he dares to tell the whole truth. He cuts me up ‘“fore and aft,” but I
   shall still go, for I like to see a man who is honest for his God.” He did
   keep on, and was converted. Now the war began in dead earnest. Ministers of
   other denominations continued to counsel and advise, and their conclusions
   were that to allow him to stay any longer would be the ruin of the Methodist
   Episcopal Church. This greatly emboldened the opposers in the church. The
   Baptists and Presbyterians left their churches and appointed meetings each
   side of him to keep their members away.

   Mr. Redfield went before the Lord with the matter. He says, “I felt to say,
   “O Lord, thou knowest I don’t know what to do. Give me thy help for this
   once. Tell me what the message is.” A text and subject were presented to my
   mind from which I shrank. I said, “O Lord, that will never do; for the
   people are so much offended now that this will produce a perfect tempest and
   break up the meeting.” The instant I shrank I was in the dark, and
   distressed beyond endurance; I now cried out, “Lord, show me the way, and
   I’ll follow.” Then that text and subject came again. Finally I asked the
   Lord to direct me to some appropriate text as corroborative, if that was his
   will. I opened the Bible at random and put my finger down on the words, “Be
   not afraid, but speak, and hold not thy peace, but speak for I am with
   thee,” etc. — Acts xviii. 9, 10. I said, “Lord, I will venture it at all
   hazards, although I am sure that I shall be stopped before I am through.”
   When I went to the church I found instead of a small congregation the house
   was so crowded that it was necessary to throw open the unfurnished
   galleries, which had never been used before. The two meetings on either side
   of us, which had been appointed to draw off the people, were deserted. But
   now was to come the tug of war. One thing encouraged me: the preacher in
   charge was a very devoted man. Though he said but little, I knew he was
   ready to identify himself with the right and to rise or fall with it. But I
   expected trouble with the people, and especially with the official board.
   When I went into the pulpit I thought, “They will order me out before I can
   read the first hymn; but I will proceed until they stop me.” I read for the
   first hymn the one commencing:


   “Shall I for fear of feeble man,

   The Spirit’s course in me restrain?

   Or undismayed in deed and word,

   Be a true witness of my Lord?”

   “Such an unction was given that every word fell upon the congregation with
   great power. When I had finished I thought, “Well, I have read my hymn, and
   I have not been ordered out yet;” but the temptation came: “If you pray as
   you feel you will be collared by some of the officials and taken out.” I
   resolved to go as far as I could, and just as the Holy Ghost should prompt
   me. When I finished the prayer I thought, “I have prayed, and I am not
   ordered out yet.” I read another hymn, and after the singing, I announced
   for my text: “I AM hath sent me unto you;” and as the Spirit gave me
   utterance, I tried to show them, first, that my authority was from God;
   second, that the message was from God; third, that the message was unbending
   in its requirements, and was not to be trifled with.

   “I felt an unearthly thrill charging me from head to foot, while the place
   was filled with a sense of the awful presence of God. I soon saw that the
   minds of the congregation were in great commotion; and in a few minutes the
   power of God broke like a thunder clap upon the people, and such screaming,
   falling, shouting, and crying for mercy I had no thought of seeing in that
   place. All denominational lines were obliterated in an instant, and
   Baptists, Presbyterians, and Methodists took each other by the hand, and
   with deep emotion declared this God to be their God. After this the work
   went gloriously. One brother said to me that night: “I now see what was the
   matter with our revival five years ago; we did not go deep enough. It was
   for the want of the strong doctrine of holiness that it all fell away, for
   out of five hundred converts we had hardly one left that has not
   backslidden.”

   Mr. Redfield was now invited by a good old brother to come to his help in a
   place about five or six miles away. He had been doing his best to start the
   work without presenting the heart-stirring doctrines of holiness. Mr.
   Redfield felt it his duty to tell the people how gloriously the work of
   holiness would move the work of conversions forward, and called upon the
   church to begin to seek the experience. He then asked those who desired to
   seek pardon to rise to their feet, when fifteen immediately responded. The
   next day the preacher and he visited from house to house. At the first house
   at which they called they found the woman rejoicing in the fullness of
   salvation, while busy at work over the wash-tub. She said: “I came from the
   church last night fully resolved to seek for perfect love, and immediately
   set about it, and before morning came God gave me the desire of my heart. It
   does seem as though I never found it so easy to get along before. I tried to
   sweep this morning, and the very broom seemed to move itself. My children
   never seemed so obliging and good as they do this morning. Oh, glory to God
   in the highest!

   His calls to help the preachers were now so numerous that he could spend but
   a short time in each place. He had met with a preacher at a camp meeting in
   the fall who now desired him to come to his assistance. It was about ten or
   fifteen miles distant, in a large and fashionable church. There had been a
   very extensive revival in the church the winter before. He went, but with
   great misgivings about coming under the minister’s influence, for he seemed
   to be very superficial in his work. They had hardly commenced before he
   informed Mr. Redfield one day that they were invited out to tea. This Mr.
   Redfield feared was a trick of the devil to dissipate his communion with
   God, and he frankly told the minister he dared not go out to afternoon
   parties of any kind, for he had only time and strength to do God’s work, and
   he felt the need of being closeted with God every moment when not at church,
   or traveling from place to place. The preacher told him he need not fear any
   irreligious tendencies. Mr. Redfield says: “I was over-persuaded, and for
   once I yielded. When we arrived, I found the parlors filled with gay, but
   intelligent women, some of whom were members of the church. My heart sank
   within me, and I desired to withdraw. But the preacher assisted in giving a
   religious tendency to the gathering; yet this forced apology for religion
   only pained me. Tea was soon passed around, and I had paid all the
   compliments I desired to. As soon as this was over I sang a spiritual hymn,
   and then knelt in prayer, and we continued until all the nice and shaped-up
   order was broken, and God came in slaying power. This good beginning was a
   sample after which we patterned, an held social meetings every afternoon in
   private houses. These fitted us for the public services at night in the
   church, where God saved a multitude of sinners. Yet I must say, I think it
   is hazardous to undertake a system of fashionable visiting in connection
   with a revival meeting.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 21

   Mr. Redfield now received a letter from a preacher whom he had met at the
   camp meeting alluded to in a former chapter, and whom he had promised to
   assist during the winter, if possible. At their first meeting this preacher
   was a seeker for perfect love. He had inquired of another preacher how he
   should seek for it, and was referred to Mr. Redfield. At first his heart
   revolted at the idea of going to a local preacher for advice; but finally he
   concluded to do so. “When he came,” says Mr. Redfield, “I felt the opposite
   from what he had felt, and shrank from attempting to give him advice. I said
   to him, “I am but a poor unworthy local preacher, and it is asking a great
   deal of me to advise you; but with your leave, I will tell you some part of
   my experience, and then I will ask you a few questions.” When I had finished
   my experience, I asked, “Brother, can you say to begin with, “The will of
   the Lord be done?”

   “I ought to,” he answered.

   “But do you say, “O God, thy will be done”?’ I asked.

   “I do,” said he, very emphatically.

   “But hold a moment, brother. Let us see what possibly, may be the will of
   God, and then when you comprehend it, see if you can still say, “Thy will be
   done.” God’s will is comprehended in two tables — what you must do, and what
   you must suffer. Now it may be the will of God that you should be put down
   as a very inferior preacher, and be sent out on to the frontier, as unfit to
   represent Methodism in any populous town. Now, do you say, “Thy will be
   done”?’

   “I do,” he replied.

   “But stop again. It may be God’s will for you to go to Africa, and spend
   your life there; to leave home and society and let your bones sleep in the
   hot sands of that country; now can you say, “Thy will be done”?’

   “I do,” he again answered promptly.

   “But brother, that may not be your track; for God wants poorhouse preachers,
   and I don’t know but that you can in poverty and rags, in the poorhouse,
   show the power of grace to triumph, and that your sufferings there will so
   preach the power of the gospel that some one by that means will be pressed
   to seek religion, who would not by any other. Can you now say, “Thy will be
   done”?’

   “I do,” was his prompt reply again.

   “But it may be, brother, that God wants you to testify by the triumphs of
   his grace over pain, and your calling may be to suffer distress of body,
   that the power of grace may so shine out in your case that some infidel may
   be won to Christ, and he become the honored instrument in the hands of God
   of bringing many to Christ, and thus you do more than in any other way; now
   can you say, “Thy will be done”?’

   “And again he said, “I do.”

   “Well, brother, you have got just halfway through; and by this you know you
   have the consent of your will to suffer the will of God. Now about doing the
   will of God: you may have duties to do from which your heart up to this time
   has shrunk; the little duties which will put you at variance with every one
   who is not in harmony with God — “Who is deaf as my servant; and blind as he
   that is perfect,” says God — to take sides with God, and never allow
   yourself to set up a defense of self, to be thorough, straight, and honest;
   to vindicate the rights of God, as you would within five minutes of the
   judgment. You can stand for God when protected by men of influence in your
   conference, but will you be as tenacious for all of God’s will when all turn
   against you? Remember you will be considered an old fogy, unsafe, imprudent
   in want of charity. You need not abuse men to win a bad name; only be
   unflinching for God, and your name is worth more now than it ever will be
   again. If a man of wealth should pick you up out of the ditch in a starving
   condition, and take you under his care, provide for you, and make you one of
   his heirs, on condition that you keep watch of his interests, would you
   think it right to allow men to come and steal his property, for fear you
   might make some of them your enemies? God has called you to be a watchman,
   and you must on no condition allow, in silence, an infringement of his
   rights. You will meet with ministers who will regard it a small thing to be
   so particular; but no man is too particular in matters of sufficient
   importance for the Almighty to notice. The world, a dead church, and
   time-serving ministers will protest against you, and resort to all manner of
   means, more or less dishonorable, to humiliate you. Now can you, do you say,
   O Lord, I will do thy will, if I stand alone? Can God count on you as one
   who can be trusted to do the exact right, when his back is turned, and the
   church and the world conspire to outlaw you for your fidelity?’

   “I do say,” he replied, ‘the whole will of God shall be done in me, and by
   me, at every cost.”

   “Well, now you are all the Lord’s, are you not?’

   “Oh? said he, “it seems to me there is ’something’ that I have not yet
   comprehended in this surrender.”

   “Well, brother, tell the Lord, when that ’something’ is made apparent, that
   you will then give that also.”

   “I do,” said he.

   “Well, then, you have given all to do and to suffer the will of God, have
   you not?”

   “Oh, yes.”

   “Well, then you are the Lord’s. Now, brother, who has required all this
   surrender at your hands?’

   “Why, God; has he not?’

   “What, everything?’

   “Yes, has he not?

   “Oh, yes,” said I, “now, if he has demanded all, and you have given all, do
   you think he will ever accept it.”

   “Oh, yes; if he has required all, and I have given all, he will accept it,
   for he is not trifling with me.”

   “Well, if he will accept, when will he do it?’

   “Oh,” said he, “I don’t feel,”—

   “Well, you are not ready to feel; you are just now ready to believe; not
   that you have the witness, for you have not; but believe on the bare promise
   of God, that having complied with the conditions in giving yourself to him,
   God now finishes the work by accepting you.”

   “What, must I believe before I feel?’

   “Brother, do you tell sinners when they are seeking to wait until they feel?
   or do you tell them to take the promise of God for the face of it?’

   “Why, I tell them God is to be trusted, and they must credit his word.”

   “Is not the promise of God to the sinner, just as good for the preacher? or
   do you want better security, than the sinner has, that God will keep his
   word?’

   “Why, I ought to ask no better security, and I’ll try to believe. But,” said
   he, “I don’t feel yet!”

   “You have not done all yet. Now, finish the condition “With the heart,” not
   simply the assent or consent of the head, but “with the heart man believeth
   unto righteousness.” You finish the work of doing right in your compliance
   with the condition. But, now, it is “with the mouth confession is [to be]
   made unto salvation.”

   “What, confess that I feel what I don’t feel?’

   “Oh, no; that would be telling a lie; confess what you believe; viz., that
   God is true to his word, and that, on the bare say-so of God, you now
   believe that he accepts what you have given him.”

   “He immediately went to a tent and confessed, not to what he felt, but to
   what he believed; and while in the act of doing so the witness came and
   referring to this experience in a testimony given some six weeks afterwards,
   he said, “it seemed to me that I was like a vessel lost in a sea, without
   bottom or shore; and I was so filled with the divine glory and power that I
   prayed for God to stay his hand.”

   “This brother now desired to engage me to come to his charge and assist him
   in a protracted meeting during the coming winter. I told him I would, if the
   Lord permitted, but also told him to go home and persuade all the church, as
   far as possible, to seek the blessing of sanctification, and that I would
   guarantee that, in the meantime, God would work upon sinners. He said he
   would do it, and the following will show the results:

   “About two months after this I received a letter from him saying, “I wish
   you to be here next Tuesday to begin a protracted meeting.” I took a public
   conveyance, and reached his place on Monday evening. On arriving at his
   house I learned he was gone to a private house to hold a holiness meeting. I
   found the house, and on opening the door, I saw the place was filled with
   people whose faces fairly shone. The remainder of the evening was given to
   testimony, mostly of those who had entered into the experience of holiness.
   These were clear and strong. There were a number, also, who testified as
   seekers of the experience. The meeting was one of glorious power. After it
   closed, as the minister and myself were on our way to his home, I asked,
   “How long have you been holding these holiness meetings?’

   “About two months,” he answered.

   “How many of the church now enjoy holiness as a distinct blessing?” I asked.

   “I think the largest proportion of them are now in the experience, and
   almost all the remainder are pressing after it,” was the reply.

   “Do you remember,” I asked, “what I told you at the camp meeting? that if
   you and your people would keep at the work of holiness, God would work in
   the awakening of sinners?” I inquired.

   “Yes, I do,” said he.

   “Do you know of any cases of awakening?” I further asked.

   “No; I don’t — not one,” he replied, and then calling to one of the leaders
   who was walking near us, asked: “Brother H_____, do you know of any sinners
   who are serious?’

   “No,” said the brother, “I don’t know of any.

   “Well,” said I, “this beats me; for I never knew it to fail. I believe yet
   that you will find that God has been doing something.”

   “Tuesday afternoon came, and we met at the church, but there was no sign of
   any stir among sinners. It was the same at the evening service; also
   Wednesday afternoon and evening. Thursday afternoon we seemed to have come
   to a halt, and could not stir. As a last resort we called upon the church
   members to come to the altar to renew our consecrations, and others to seek
   the blessing of holiness. In a few minutes it seemed as though the powers of
   darkness were let loose upon us. The preacher cried out: ‘Hold on! Steady
   faith! Steady faith!” and all at once the power of God fell upon us, and
   there was a great crying out among sinners; and one or two came to the altar
   screaming for mercy, and soon were hopefully converted to God. From this
   moment the work went on in great power.

   “The next morning one of the Class Leaders came to the preacher and said:
   “Brother O____, my cousin who is an infidel and never goes to church, does
   not seem to be as hard as usual. He goes with his head down; and I would not
   wonder if you might be able to talk to him about religion. Will you and
   Brother R_____ go with me to his house and see him?’

   “Down to his house we went and were introduced to his wife, and sat down to
   wait for the leader to go to the man’s shop to call him. As soon as he came
   in at the kitchen door and saw us in the other room, he waited out, “O God!
   O God! what shall — what shall I do? Oh! oh! oh! God, what shall I do?’ I
   felt like getting the Bible and directing him to a promise to the
   brokenhearted sinner to read for himself, and asked his wife, “Have you a
   Bible in the house?’ She arose and went to a cupboard over the fireplace and
   took one out; he caught sight of it as she handed it to me, and broke out,
   “Oh, that poor neglected Bible!” I took it and turned to the words, “Come
   unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
   Take my yoke upon you and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and
   ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is
   light.” I held them before him, and said, “Look at that and read it.” He
   brushed his long hair from his eyes with his band, and gazed through his
   tears upon the precious words. “Read them for yourself,” I said.

   “With emphasis he replied, “I am reading it.”

   “Well, I want you to believe it,” I continued.

   “I am believing it,” he answered, and burst into such a tempest of shouts as
   made the whole house ring.

   “His wife now cried out, “O God, have mercy on me,” and commenced to wring
   her hands, walking the floor back and forth, and crying, “What shall I do?
   what shall I do?’ The little children, who were too young to appreciate the
   feelings of the parents, began to cry aloud. In a few moments the mother was
   happy in the Lord.

   “As soon as the first gust of glory had passed over, and the man had so far
   recovered from the overpowering effects of his joy that he could talk, he
   said: “Now, I know what all this means; I know what all this means.” He then
   said he had not been to a church for two years; but, about two months before
   had felt sadly impressed that some great calamity was about to befall him.
   “I thought,” he said, “perhaps, I am going to die, or some member of my
   family is going to be taken away. But now I see, it was the Holy Spirit
   convicting me; and now I have got religion.”

   “The preacher went down through the main street of the town, calling upon
   the people, and I returned to his house, After awhile he came back with the
   glad tidings that God had indeed broken up the entire place. Said he, “As I
   was passing the first store one of the proprietors called me in, and there
   at one of the counters stood his partner weeping, and as I entered, he
   inquired if I could tell them how to he saved. I directed them as well as I
   could, and started on down the street. As I was passing the courthouse the
   jailor asked me to come in and pray for him, for he wanted religion. When I
   left, and was passing a lawyer’s office, he accosted me, and asked, ‘Sir,
   can you tell me how to be saved?’

   “I continued laboring with this brother a few weeks, but as the work was
   going well enough without me, I went where I was needed more. In one of the
   meetings, before I left, I counted about forty who testified about like
   this: “Some two months ago, while I was at work At my store (or shop, or on
   the farm, as the case might be), I felt the awakening Spirit of God had got
   hold of me, and I sought and obtained mercy.” But not one was there of all
   who professed to be saved while I was there who referred to any preaching or
   any meeting whatever, as the means for awakening them.”

   He now went at the request of a minister to a small city where the Methodist
   for many years had been robbed by systematic proselytizing of all who would
   be of financial benefit to a church; and this by open hostility.

   Mr. Redfield resolved to break it up, by the help of God. He plainly saw
   that people of such a spirit would not properly care for converts, and that
   it would be positively dangerous, in a spiritual sense, for them to go into
   such associations. As soon as he commenced his labors they commenced their
   operations. He made a public statement of the case, and told them they must
   get religion enough to stop such wicked work, and go to work and quarry out
   their own converts, for their success in proselytizing was coming to an end.
   He then warned the people against them; saying it would be at the peril of
   their souls to have anything to do with such folks. One minister began to
   preach against the Methodists, and soon after was dismissed by his church.
   Another attempted the same, but his church stopped him after his first
   effort. Some five or six different churches were engaged in the same work,
   but such was the thoroughness of the revival that the young converts could
   see the difference between the true and the false, and none of them were
   lost.

   But a poor drunken Universalist preacher, who had once been a Methodist, but
   after being expelled, turned Episcopalian, and then became a Universalist,
   was not so easy to get along with. He went to New York city to find
   something with which to shake the confidence of the people in Mr. Redfield.
   He was stirred up to this by some of his members being converted and leaving
   his church; and because the new church he was building had come to a
   standstill from lack of interest in its completion as one result of the
   revival. When in New York he foolishly laid his plans before some who knew
   Mr. Redfield, and who kindly informed him of them.

   When the Universalist minister returned he reported that Mr. Redfield came
   to the place on a stolen horse, and that he had run away from a city about
   two hundred miles distant in deep disgrace. Mr. Redfield concluded to say
   nothing about it, but leave the man in the hands of God, and soon after he
   died with the delirium tremens.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 22

   Mr. Redfield’s extreme and incessant labors now began to tell severely upon
   his naturally frail constitution. For some time each effort to preach had
   greatly exhausted him, and sometimes it had seemed as though he would never
   be able to preach again. Severe attacks of vomiting had now set in that
   indicated cancer of the stomach. He became so weak that he was obliged to
   lie down at the close of his sermons, and let others take charge of the
   altar work. All remedies failed, and, obliged to leave the field, he went
   home, as he supposed, to die. For a long time his sufferings were of the
   most excruciating character. It was six months before he entered a church
   again, and eight months before he preached another sermon. During this time
   his communion with God was uninterrupted, and, as the sequel shows, his
   affliction was to be a means of building him up more strongly in the faith.
   He says:

   “In the midst of the severest pain my soul was so filled that sometimes I
   would cry out, “O Lord, I would not have one pain less.” My happiness at the
   thought of having fallen with my armor on, and that I was suffering for my
   zeal for God, and not for wickedness, was indescribable.

   “I had found a home with a very kind family who did all for my comfort that
   lay in their power. To all appearances I could live but a short time; yet I
   would not allow any one to sit up with me, and these dear friends, without
   my knowledge, would come into my room in the night to look after me. When I
   found this out, I desired them not to do so. One night I locked my door so
   that they would feel themselves excused from watching me. I had scarcely
   laid down before I felt a peculiar sensation like a wave pass over me, from
   my head to my feet; and with it an impression as of a clear voice saying:
   “This is death.” I realized my condition, and thought, “They will find my
   door locked in the morning, and after awhile will force it open and find me
   dead.” Then I thought, “If this be death, I’ll go singing;” so I began the
   song commencing:

   “I am on my way, passing over.”

   I sung the first verse and began the second, when my voice failed, and I
   finished it in a whisper. I tried the third verse and my breath stopped. I
   then tried to move a hand, and then a foot, but could not. I felt a
   sensation all through me as though my spirit was about to leave the body. My
   eyes turned upward, and myriads of angelic spirits seemed to be hovering
   over me, as if waiting to bear me home. All my previous conceptions of the
   “innumerable company” were eclipsed by this vision. I thought: “How great
   must be the whole number if the escort for one poor man is so without
   number!”

   “With the same suddenness with which it came on, that wave of death passed,
   and my heavenly visitors were gone.

   “I had often prayed that I might have some testimony that was reliable, that
   the visions that dying Christians so often declare they have, are true, and
   this seemed to be in answer to my prayer.

   “I had seen two sisters, both of them Christians, in quick succession, pass
   away with the consumption. Both of them professed to have found the
   experience of perfect love in one of my meetings. The first one gave me a
   kiss with her dying lips, and declared she saw angels, and heard them
   singing, and that children were mingled with them. She called upon her
   watchers to listen and to look. But one suggested to the other that she was
   out of her mind, to which she responded: “Oh, no! now look there! now
   listen!” But the scene and sound were only for herself.

   “Soon after I was called, in company with the attending physician, to make
   the last visit to the other sister. On approaching the sick room, she asked:

   “Who has come?’

   “Your physician,” was the answer.

   “Well, let him come in. And who is the other?’ she asked.

   They told her, and she said: “Let him come in, too.”

   “I approached the bed; around it stood her weeping husband and friends. Her
   eyes were already dimmed with the clouds of death. She asked her physician:
   “Doctor, am I not dying? I think I have been all day.” But the doctor knew
   not the power of divine grace and dared not answer. The more he hesitated
   the more she urged an answer. “Say, doctor, am I dying? You must tell me.”
   He touched her pulse and then her temple, and finally said: “Yes, you are
   now dying.” An indescribable smile instantly spread over her face; and she
   said: “Now let everybody come in that I may testify to them of the power of
   salvation in death.” She then sank into a gentle doze for a moment, and then
   again aroused herself, and with that heavenly smile upon her face she said:
   “Oh, yes, bless the Lord, I am dying.” She then reached out her hand, with
   the chill of death upon it, and, taking mine, she asked: “Oh, do you see
   those beautiful stars? I want to testify once more if I can to the power of
   this great salvation. O brother, do continue to preach holiness, for, oh,
   how it saves!”

   “She had been quite offended at first, because I pressed her so strongly to
   give up conformity to the world, but now she seemed eager to encourage me to
   press it on others with all my might, for the glorious results were so
   rich.”

   These incidents had made a deep impression upon his mind, and the vision
   described at the opening of this chapter he always thought was the fruition
   of the desire that was created by them.

   While recovering from his sickness, he was invited to preach in one of the
   New York churches. After service he went to Dr. Palmer’s to dinner. When he
   had an opportunity to do so, he related some of these incidents to Sister
   P_____ and asked her views in regard to them. She replied, “I believe we
   should have more of them than we do, if we would not make a bad use of
   them;” and then added, “I wish Sister B_____ was here to tell you some facts
   concerning her mother.” The door bell that moment rang, and in came Sister
   B_____. Sister Palmer turned to her and said, “I wish you would tell Brother
   Redfield about the remarkable scenes at your mother’s death-bed.” When
   seated, Sister B_____ related the following:

   “My mother enjoyed the blessing of perfect love for more than forty years.
   When she came down with the sickness that ended her life, my sister and I
   watched with her by turns all through it, until the last night, when mother
   said, “Now daughters, you must go to rest, for it will disturb me if you do
   not, for you are so worn. But I said to her, “Mother, you do not know how
   sick you are.” But she replied, “I now feel quite easy, but I cannot rest
   and know that you are not resting, when you are so weary.” My sister left
   the room, and I fixed me a place to lie down out of mother’s sight, and hid
   the light behind the fire-board. I had scarcely laid down when the room
   became as light as day. I could see all the furniture plainly, and the
   texture and stitches of the bedding that was spread over me.”

   “But were you not dreaming?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “No,” she replied, “that could not be, for I thought of that, and I arose,
   and felt of myself, and tried various expedients to assure myself of the
   truth of the matter. I finally turned and looked at the bed where mother
   was, when I saw a crowd of angels hovering over her, with most heavenly
   faces. They were looking most intently toward where I knew mother’s face
   was. I gazed, and wondered that I felt no fear. Thus I continued, until I
   finally thought, “I must have some sleep, and will now lie down.” But the
   instant I closed my eyes, my mother called me. I sprang up and ran to her
   side. Daylight had come, and as I approached her, she raised her hands and
   said, “Oh, what a night I have had!”

   “Why, mother,” I asked, ‘were you in pain? Why did you not call me? I did
   not leave the room.”

   “Oh, no! daughter,” she said, “I was in no pain, but as soon as you left me,
   the angels came and staid with me all night.” The family were now called at
   her request; she gave them her last charge, and then passed away.”

   Sister Palmer then related a circumstance of interest concerning a young
   lady of deep piety; who, with those around her when she was dying, heard
   most delightful music over their heads; and what was more strange, when the
   funeral procession was on the way to the grave the same music attended them,
   and returned with the family to the house. For months afterwards, it was
   occasionally heard over the place where she died.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 23

   As Mr. Redfield’s health began to improve, he entered the evangelistic field
   again. He was now more hopeful than ever before that the Methodist Episcopal
   Church, to which he belonged, would have her commission renewed “to spread
   scriptural holiness over these lands.” His views of the doctrine and the
   experience, and his methods of advancing them, had undergone a new test to
   him — a thorough and solemn review on the brink of eternity. He now entered
   the field with stronger faith, and courage, and determinations than ever.
   Several ministers of prominence and promise had entered into the experience
   and were clearly and boldly teaching it to their people, and the blessed
   fruit of it, in the conversion of sinners and the sanctification of
   believers, was gloriously manifest. He was now invited by one of these
   ministers to come to his assistance. A protracted meeting had been in
   progress for some time, and a goodly number had been converted. All at once
   the work stopped. Mr. Redfield immediately was in an agony, not knowing the
   cause. He resorted to prayer as usual at such times, and one night in
   church, while thus engaged, his distress was almost unendurable. He
   afterwards thought he ought to have given vent to his feelings before the
   people, but instead of that, he deliberately cast it off. As he did so the
   impression came very strongly to him, “Let them alone;” and then he had such
   a view of their desolation, and being forsaken of God, and of their being
   visited by death, that he could but pray it out before the people. He left
   the place, but meeting with the pastor some time afterwards, he was informed
   that a peculiar disease broke out among the people after the meeting closed,
   and many were swept into eternity. The minister also informed him that one
   cause of the revival being checked had come out, and that was the banding
   together of a large number of young men to resist it.

   Again he was invited to a place where he had been before, and was assured by
   the Lord that it was not his will for him to labor there. But the
   correspondence opened the way for him to go to another place where Methodism
   had never succeeded in gaining a footing. Here he experienced much
   opposition from other churches. It was about ten miles from G_____ (probably
   Goshen). There was one church in the place occupied by a bigoted old
   minister who claimed the ground as a sort of a parish. He had another flock
   about three miles east, and still another about five miles in another
   direction, to whom he preached about twice a year, besides attending their
   weddings and funerals. A short time before Mr. Redfield’s visit, a Methodist
   man attempted to hold a prayer meeting in the village schoolhouse, but so
   great was the opposition that the doors were nailed up so he could not get
   in. When Mr. Redfield arrived he found an Episcopalian lady who knew
   something of the power of salvation, and she invited him to make her house
   his home. Her husband was an infidel, and apparently made so by the unholy
   type of religion he saw about him. The schoolhouse was now open and Mr.
   Redfield gave out an appointment to preach in the evening, and though the
   weather was severe the people came in large numbers. The women kept closely
   veiled, or stood outside and looked in at the windows, and he had to do his
   own singing and praying. He commenced a regular visitation of the people
   from house to house. As an illustration of his reception he records the
   following as having occurred in the house of Deacon_____:

   “Good morning, Deacon. How are you prospering in the way to heaven?’ I
   inquired.

   “We don’t want any of your fanaticism here,” was the answer.

   “But I suppose you love God, and his ways?”

   “I tell you, we don’t want any elements of discord introduced here.”

   “I suppose you have often prayed for the salvation of your children?”

   “Yes, sir; I have.”

   “Well, suppose we pray for them now.”

   “You are not wanted here, sir; we want none of your disturbance, for we are
   all at peace now.”

   “But, Deacon, I think we will pray for your children now.”

   “I want you to leave my house.”

   “Well, but I think I will pray first.”

   “So down on my knees I went, and prayed for the old man and his family; and
   then went on to another deacon’s house. I found him alone. His face was
   white with rage. I tried to draw him into religious conversation, but he
   would not answer me. After a long and fruitless effort to get him to say
   something, I at last asked to pray with him before I left. “Pray if you have
   a mind to,” was his short and gruff reply. I needed no further invitation,
   and I knelt down and thanked God for the kind and Christian deportment of
   the deacon who was so willing to let me pray in his house. The next day the
   deacon was in the schoolhouse, and as soon as there was an opportunity he
   arose and asked the privilege of speaking. I gave him permission, and he
   proceeded to tell the congregation that I was at his house the day before;
   how mad he was at the sight of me; how roughly he treated me; and how I
   prayed for him like a Christian. “But,” said he, “after Mr. Redfield was
   gone I began to reflect, and when night came, I went to bed, but not to
   sleep; for I could not. Finally my agony of mind was so great that I got up
   and knelt down before the Lord. It seemed to me I should die before morning,
   and I dared not sleep. I remained all night upon my knees praying for my
   soul, and about daybreak God spoke peace to me, and now I have got
   religion.”

   “This testimony took hold upon the congregation with great power.”

   Concerning his method of work in this place, Mr. Redfield continues: “I did
   not feel called upon to put any great task or cross upon the people, such as
   coming to any particular place or bench. I could discern by their manner
   those who were sufficiently awakened to make the right move. So I asked,
   simply, that all who desired to be saved to stand up. The work soon broke
   out in great power.

   “An old lady sent for me one day, whose two daughters had been very clearly
   saved, and whose bright testimonies had put the old lady’s hope in the
   shade. When I reached the house and was introduced to her, I saw her face
   was the picture of despair. With great emotion she said, “O sir, my
   daughters tell me they know their sins are forgiven, and that they know they
   are the children of God; and I don’t know what to think of myself.” Not to
   shock her too badly, I thought best to accommodate my language to her by the
   use of the terms in which her church was accustomed to speak of religious
   states of mind. So I replied: “I suppose, madam, that you already entertain
   a hope.”

   “Oh, no!” said she with evident horror; “I would not dare to be so
   presumptuous;” and then in a nervous, sententious manner, she said, “I — do
   — think — I — can — say — that — I — have — a — desire — that — I — might
   — have — a — hope.”

   “This is a type of most of what passed for religious experience in this
   place.

   “I found one, however, who knew the power of salvation. She was in the last
   stages of the asthma, and in great suffering from suffocation. Her minister
   had been sent for to visit her, but he did not come. When I entered her room
   I was greatly moved to see her gasping for breath. As she could not lie
   down, she was bolstered up in the bed; her face was swollen, her breathing
   very short and labored, and her voice could be heard but a few feet from
   her. Her sister, with her ear to the sick woman’s lips, could catch the
   answers to my questions and repeat them to me. I asked her if she found
   religion a satisfying portion in the midst of such great distress.

   “She answered: “I am so filled with comfort and joy that if this agony of
   dying is to be forever I am perfectly content and happy.”

   “I went to the afternoon meeting, and there saw the minister, who had been
   persuaded to come and give this poor flock an extra sermon. He was about
   opening the services, so I took my seat and listened. After a formal
   opening, he began his sermon by stating that he was set for the defense of
   the gospel, and while he was upon the walls of Zion he must protect his
   flock from ravening wolves. He then opened his batteries on John Wesley and
   the Methodist Church, and warned his people to keep clear of them, and not
   to forsake the religion of their fathers. He then, in substance, told them
   that he would relate to them what he had read in a New York paper. (I had
   read the same and knew what was coming.) “But,” said he, “I shall not call
   names? He then proceeded to say: “A man came from New York to a village
   about thirty miles from there, and told the people that they had the devil
   in them, and they must take an emetic which he had prepared for the in, and
   vomit him up. But I am not going to speak his name now. Well, he got some to
   take it, and it was found that they would die, and the constable was after
   this man, but I shall call no names.”

   “The meeting closed, and one of the principal men in the place said to the
   minister: “You had better stay to the meeting tonight, Mr. E_____, and hear
   this man preach, and see if you have treated him just right.”

   “No,” said the minister, “I cannot stay with you?

   “But you have implied some very hard things against Mr. Redfield, and I
   think it no more than right that you should be at some pains to learn what
   you evidently know nothing about.”

   “But away he went. One of his members approached me and said: “Mr. Redfield,
   I have hated the very sight of you; and when I saw you passing along the
   street it has been with difficulty that I could refrain from whipping you.
   But I won’t see you so abused. And if you will build a Methodist Church here
   I’ll give you fifty dollars.” Another immediately said: “I’ll give you a
   lot.” And still another: “I’ll give fifteen dollars.” And so it went on, and
   in a short time we had a church erected and dedicated, and the last I heard
   from the place they had a flourishing Methodist circuit there. The
   minister’s opposition laid the foundation for three new churches and built
   one, and made a good appointment for a preacher, and has been regularly
   supplied from conference ever since.” (1863.)

   Soon after the close of these labors Mr. Redfield attended a camp meeting
   where he met many of the preachers who had promised him to stand by the work
   of holiness; but he found they had backed down and did not know it. They
   took him one side to counsel with him. They said: “Brother Redfield, you
   know that everywhere you go revivals break out in great power, and the
   people are converted by the hundred and sometimes by the thousand.”

   “Yes,” said he, “I know it, and I know too that it is but the legitimate
   workings of holiness in the hearts of the people.”

   “Well, well,” said one, “that is all granted; but, Brother Redfield, are you
   willing to take advice?”

   “Most certainly, if it is good.”

   “Well, now if you could adopt any way by which thousands would be converted
   where now you see only hundreds,”--

   “Most gladly do I desire to do all I can.”

   “Well,” said he, and the rest all concurred in it, “if you will not say so
   much about “holiness,” “perfect love,” and “sanctification,” and not press
   any one up to these things, for that makes many people in mad, and many of
   our preachers afraid of you; some say you can never do good enough to
   overbalance the harm you have already done; and you get so many prejudiced
   against yourself, and it must be very uncomfortable for you to have to meet
   so many prejudices,”

   “Well, what would you have me do?” said Mr. Redfield.

   “We would have you cease to use these terms which arouse the prejudices of
   some, and, Brother Redfield, you can preach up Bible religion as high as the
   Bible warrants, but drop the objectionable terms.”

   One of the preachers then said: “I am pastor of the church in, where the
   people were so offended at you that they would not let you stay; but I have
   preached the doctrine of holiness up very strong, and have done it so
   cautiously, that no one knew what I was preaching about. And they have
   endorsed it; and now they are willing to have you come back.” (Mr. Redfield
   says: “I afterwards went back, and found them worse than before.”)

   In speaking of this advice, he says: “It is just the thing to take with me,
   I thought. What a Godsend that these brethren have helped me out of all my
   difficulties! I do find, certainly, all the opposition I can stand under. I
   am willing to work without fee or charge, but my nature shrinks when called
   unflinchingly to stand for God, and either in word or tacitly tell the
   time-serving preacher that he is the enemy of God. I don’t ask any office in
   the church higher than that of a local preacher, but I dare not do otherwise
   than take that. But now I have found an easier way apparently, and a way to
   accomplish much more for God; a way to be for once and forever free from
   slanders and misunderstandings which follow, me all over the land. So out I
   went as soon as the season for protracted meetings began, and attempted to
   preach the best I knew how, and yet avoid the objectionable terms. But I
   found my power with God and man was gone. Two or more weeks resulted in but
   one person being moved, and she so slightly that she did not stand a week.
   Well, thought I, my mission is ended, and God has got through with me. So I
   can now go home and attend to business, and bid farewell to this rough,
   toilsome and heartaching cause. How good it will be to feel once more that 1
   am not an Ishmaelite, with my hand against every man, and every man’s hand
   against me. But before I leave the field I’ll take counsel of some good man.
   In casting about for some one to give me that counsel, I thought of a pious
   old colored man who, I thought, would be unprejudiced in every way. I went
   to his home and took him out into a grove, and told him all my experience in
   holiness; about my labors; how God had manifested himself in saving souls
   through me, when the doctrine of holiness was preached. I then told him that
   my mission with the great power God had given me was gone and that I thought
   God was done with me.

   “My brother,” said the old man, “haint you nebber compermised?’

   “Compromised?’ said I, ‘why, no! I would as soon cut off my arm! I dare not
   do that.” But recollecting myself, I said: “I have been counseled by some
   good preachers to avoid the use of the terms, perfect love, sanctification,
   holiness, etc., because the people’s prejudices were so strong against it
   that they became angry at me and I could not do them the good I desired. But
   I try to preach the Bible truth as high as ever.”

   “Dat is it. Dare is lust where de trubbel lie. Now what God call
   sanctification, you no bizness to call anysin else. It isn’t you de people
   hates; ’t is de Lor’.”

   “God so let the light shine through this old black diamond that I saw there
   was the very place where I lost my mission and power; and I said: “I’ll go
   right back and preach these doctrines right in the notch where I used to,
   and in the meantime seek my power over again.” But scarcely had I touched
   the old key before the power came. God had not condemned, but dropped me,
   that I might learn this lesson, that we must follow him in all things, great
   and small.”

   He now went to a place where the parish minister not only cautioned his
   people against him, but brought to light an old law which gave him authority
   over the people, even to the use of the rod on minors, and he threatened to
   use it if they did not stay away from the meetings. This moved the hearts of
   the people in the right direction, and a Methodist church was built and
   supplied with preaching as the result.

   He then went to the place where the preacher had won the people over to love
   holiness by preaching it in such a guise that they did not know what he was
   at. But Mr. Redfield found the state of affairs bad enough. There again, he
   had one of his awful burdens. He thought he must be fainting away, and went
   to a window and raised it, and when he found the fresh air did not help him,
   he knew it was a burden. But so intense was his agony that he thought he
   could not endure it, when the suggestion came: “Cast thy burden on the
   Lord.” He knelt down, and gave vent to his feelings in sobs and groans and
   tears. The burden passed away, and as it did so left him with the feeling
   that God had withdrawn from the place, and his labors there were at an end.
   This proved to be true, and he left.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 24

   Mr. Redfield was next called to visit Middletown Conn., the seat of a
   Methodist university.

   Referring to his call to this field of labor, he says: “My heart dreaded the
   conflict which I knew must follow if I did not lower the standard of gospel
   truth, unless there were those who would take a stand for God. But I had
   promised to go, and I made up my mind to meet the worst.”

   Rev. B. T. Roberts, now General Superintendent of the Free Methodist Church,
   but who, at the time of Mr. Redfield’s labors in Middletown, was a student
   in the university, describes the state of the work there at that time as
   follows:

   “The state of religion in the church was extremely low. Professing
   Christians were chiefly distinguished for their conformity to the world. The
   Methodists had ceased to be persecuted, and were fast becoming a proud and
   fashionable people. In the university, intellectual rivalry had well nigh
   supplanted zeal for the cause of God. But a small proportion of the students
   professed religion, and these exhibited but too little of the power of
   godliness. Dr. Redfield’s preaching created a profound sensation. His
   deep-toned piety, his fervent, moving appeals to the throne of grace, and
   his unearthly, overpowering eloquence disarmed criticism, even in that
   congregation of critics, and prepared the way for the reception of the
   truths he uttered. Had he lowered the standard to suit the pride and
   prejudices of his hearers, his popularity would have been unbounded. He
   insisted upon the Bible standard of entire conformity to the will of God in
   all things. The church was crowded, and the people seemed amazed. Such
   exhibitions of truth they had never listened to before. It was for some time
   doubtful how the scale would turn. Dr. Olin heard of the commotion. He was
   unwilling to take the representations of any one, but arose from a sickbed
   and went and heard for himself. His majestic intellect and deep experience
   in the things of God could not easily be imposed upon; and a candid hearing
   satisfied him both of the sincerity and soundness of the preacher. “This,
   brethren said he, “is Methodism, and you must stand by it.” His word was
   law. The faculty, the official members, and the church received and endorsed
   the truth. Such a work of God as followed we never witnessed. Professors in
   the college, men of outwardly blameless lives, saw they were not right with
   God, frankly confessed it, and, laying aside their official dignity, went
   forward for prayers. The city and adjoining country were moved as by the
   breath of the Lord. For some eight or ten weeks the altar was crowded with
   penitents, from fifty to a hundred coming forward at a time. The conversions
   were generally clear and powerful. Dr. Olin seconded the effort in the
   university, and went beyond his strength in exhorting the students and
   praying with them. This great man never seemed so great as in prayer. Then
   he seemed clothed with the


   “Awful majesty of man

   Who talketh often with his God.”

   “Nearly all the young men in the college were converted, and of the converts
   a large number became ministers of the gospel. The fruits of the revival
   remain, and have been multiplying ever since.”

   More than three hundred were converted at the church. At the same time the
   work was going gloriously forward in the college. The tutors who had
   experienced entire sanctification entered into it heart and soul. At first a
   band of them met together and united in praying for such students as they
   thought were leaders of influence and mischief. At these times they would
   hold on until they thought they had received an answer. The first time they
   met thus, the young man for whom they were praying went running and
   rollicking through the halls as though he was possessed by evil spirits.
   They took this as an indication that the Holy Spirit was striving with him
   and held on. The next night the young man was converted at the church. They
   then informed him of their especial season of prayer for him; and asked him
   to unite with them in the same work for others. They selected another, and
   he soon was converted. They then divided into two bands and held meetings in
   separate rooms. A remarkable feature of the work was that the conversions
   took place in the order in which they selected these subjects of prayer.
   Their method and success became known, and had such an influence that a
   student went to one of these praying bands one day and asked, “Have you got
   my name on your list?” On being told that they had, he said, “Well, I
   thought you must have, from my feelings; and I may as well give up now.” In
   a few minutes he was converted, and that night in the church told what great
   things the Lord had done for him.

   President Olin took a lively interest in the work, and though in ill-health,
   he undertook to give a ten-minutes’ talk to the students in a large
   recitation room one day, but the minutes swelled into hours; and the speech
   was afterward published as one of his great intellectual efforts. The result
   of the revival in the city and at the college, all together, was nearly four
   hundred conversions. Twenty-six of the college students became ministers of
   the gospel. Here the sainted William C. Kendall learned the art of soul
   saving, and went from here to preach the same gospel for a short season with
   great success. His was a short but a shining track. He too found himself
   much opposed, for daring to stand for the right.

   Such was the success of this meeting, and the glorious stand taken by
   President Olin and his faculty, that Mr. Redfield began to hope again for
   the cause of holiness in the Methodist Church. He felt sure that such an
   endorsement would silence opposers and give that doctrine the right of way
   through the land.

   Mr. Redfield was now invited to a church in New Jersey to spend a Sabbath.
   He arrived on Saturday night, but did not enter the church until Sunday
   morning. The pastor was to be in New York over Sunday, and requested Mr.
   Redfield to fill the pulpit for him both morning and evening. He was
   careful, also, to request that he would not present the subject of holiness
   that day. When Mr. Redfield entered the church he thought he understood the
   reason why the pastor had made such a request. The church was new, and had
   been ornamented in the highest and most costly manner.

   “I felt,” says Mr. Redfield, “I must do my duty, no matter what the results.
   But I felt sure the people would not endure it; and in all probability I
   would have to find shelter in a tavern over night. I took the money I had
   from my pocket to assure myself that I had enough to pay my fare. When I saw
   that I had enough, I was at rest, and resolved the people should hear
   holiness for once. I went through regardless of consequences, and when the
   service closed I met some in the aisles who grasped my hand and said:
   “Brother, I believe in holiness, and mean to have it.”

   He went to a prominent city in the same state to hold meetings. He preached
   on his usual theme, and God responded in power. The people often fell from
   their seats to the floor while he was preaching. But he soon found the
   preacher very much afraid of holiness.

   Here, he again was asked in regard to his family. He told the inquirer that
   it was a matter he disliked to talk about, but that only made the matter
   worse. At last he was obliged to ask that he might meet two of the presiding
   elders, to whom he could tell the whole story. His request was granted, and
   they coincided with his view of the matter, that silence in regard to it was
   his best course. But from this on the matter grew worse and worse, until
   after counsel and advice he put the matter in the hands of a lawyer and
   obtained a divorce. Mr. Redfield had not seen nor heard directly from her
   for over five years, but had heard rumors of her death several times.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 25

   Mr. Redfield, about this time, met with opposition from the preacher in
   charge of the society where he held his membership. The issue was made on
   his license, the preacher taking the position that he should belong to the
   society where he labored. This was done on the floor of the quarterly
   conference. Mr. Redfield replied to this that it would be very inconvenient
   for him to do so, as he staid but from four to five weeks in a place The
   preacher was insisting upon it and crowding the quarterly conference to
   refuse the renewal of his license, when the presiding elder, Dr. Heman
   Bangs, came to Mr. Redfield’s relief by saying: “Brother Redfield is a very
   useful man, and he must have his standing somewhere, and if he wishes it he
   must have it here. Let his license be renewed.” It was done, and Mr.
   Redfield went on his way, but with a sore heart. In speaking of it, he says:
   “If these men only knew what it costs me in my feelings to go without home,
   and face the constant apprehension that the misfortune of my family affairs
   may be taken advantage of by my enemies to destroy my influence, while my
   friends are more or less perplexed about it until they understand all, it
   seems to me they would not try to make my way harder than it is.”

   He could but observe that the men who were engaged in this opposition were
   not the spiritual men, nor the revivalists, but those who were laboring to
   make the church take rank in culture, splendor and influence with other
   churches. They could but see that the preaching and experience of holiness
   were attended with a renunciation of earthly pomp and glory that was fatal
   to what they were struggling for. They also saw that where the doctrine and
   experience of holiness obtained a footing there were marked indications of
   utter abandonment to what was supposed to be the divine will, and
   demonstrations of great joy at the consciousness of the divine approval.
   This was attended by more or less of reproach, and all was fatal to their
   worldly ambition. It was doubtless true that these men were blinded by their
   own desires and prejudices; but this was not strange. It has been the case
   in all ages of the church. Caiaphas was misled in like manner as to what
   should be done with Jesus.

   One marked feature of the holiness revival was that the churches were filled
   with the poor, who gladly listened to truths from which the proud turned
   away. Again, the thorough renunciation of worldliness and sin that holiness
   requires brought such a cloud of reproach upon those who preached and
   professed it as none but the truly consecrated could endure. This has in all
   ages saved the church of God from sinking into utter worldliness and
   degeneracy. Once make Christianity acceptable to depraved human nature, and
   men will embrace and profess it without regeneration.

   Mr. Redfield at this time busied himself during the summer in earning the
   means by which he could pay his expenses during the revival season. His
   laboring without fee made it possible for him to get into places where
   otherwise he could not have gained admission.

   About this time he was invited to go to the assistance of Caleb Lippincott,
   a preacher of the primitive stamp, and one of the most successful in the
   church. Mr. Redfield now thought, as he had found a preacher who was not
   afraid of the power of God, they would see a glorious work. But he found
   that the enemy was still upon his track, and had more than one way to wage
   war upon him. The Universalists here became the agency to humiliate him. God
   soon began to pour out his Spirit in a remarkable manner, and many had been
   added to the church. Among these were some promising young people from among
   the Hicksite Friends. One night an old lady, whose daughter had just been
   converted, became so enraged that she broke out in the meeting in
   denunciations of all about her. In a loud voice and with violent gestures
   she said, “I don’t like this at all. I am mad at you.” In the night, at her
   home, she became so distressed in mind that she sent for some of the
   religious women to come and pray with her. She surrendered to the Lord and
   was gloriously saved. Her first utterance after the assurance of salvation
   came was, “Oh, how I love everybody!” The work went on in great power for
   some time. The house was crowded with people and the altar with seekers. All
   at once, Mr. Redfield noticed a falling off of the congregation, which
   continued until the attendance was so small and the interest so low that he
   concluded that his work in that place was done. His next appointment was but
   fourteen miles away, and he procured a conveyance and drove to the place.
   This was on Tuesday. When he arrived, the minister with whom he expected to
   labor told him that the meeting was advertised to commence the next Sunday.
   Mr. Redfield could not bear the thought of four days’ idleness, so he
   returned to the place he had left. During his absence that day the secret of
   the decline of the meetings came out. A Universalist paper had been
   circulated in the community in which Mr. Redfield had been published as a
   notorious villain, connected with John Newell Maffit, the noted evangelist,
   who was at that time under a cloud of dishonor. Of the matter charged in
   this paper. Mr. Redfield had never heard. It was also charged against him
   that he was making the revival meetings he held a matter of gain in money
   and fame. As soon as he had read the article he determined to meet it with a
   public statement. That evening in the pulpit, before preaching, he made a
   statement of what had been published, and said to those present, “When the
   congregation is large enough, I’ll tell you something worth two of this.”
   The next night the congregation was greatly increased, to which he made a
   similar statement; and again, in like manner, the third evening.

   On the fourth evening the house was crowded, and a great many stood outside
   around the open windows. When he arose, he said, “I will now tell you my
   story.” He prefaced it by reading the newspaper item; and then proceeded to
   say, “Of this matter in regard to Mr. Maffit, I can say, first, I am able to
   prove that I could by no possibility have known anything of the matter at
   all; second, I was never alone with Mr. Maffit five minutes in my life; and
   as to being in league with him to break up the Methodist Episcopal Church, I
   never knew until now that he was charged with any such thing. As to going
   about in this manner for money and fame, I can say, I have never in any way
   negotiated with any church or persons for one penny for all or any of my
   traveling expenses. I will allow, however, that when I left here last
   Tuesday morning a brother of this church put in my hand two dollars and
   compelled me to take them. Now, it cost me twenty-one shillings to come
   here, and this brother gave me sixteen. So you see I have not made anything
   here, nor did I ask or expect it. As to my laboring for fame; these charges
   are the fame I get. I will sell any man all of it for three cents. I am
   aware that the curious desire to know why I am thus going about, and what is
   the impelling motive for it. I will tell you. You yourselves must know, that
   I am ether a fool, or crazy, or honest. If a fool, do not be too hard upon
   me. If crazy, I need your pity. Now no man in his senses will follow the
   track I am on without a motive; and I’ll frankly own, though I do not make a
   practice of dwelling on these matters, that I am where I am and doing as I
   am, because I dare not do otherwise. For this I have been brought to the
   verge of the grave, and then let off on the promise that I would go and
   preach the gospel. And the last time, the word came to me, “You may live as
   long as you preach but no longer.” I dare not disobey. Now, if the president
   of your Temperance society (he was the one who had circulated the paper with
   the charges in against me) was to be thus treated, because he tried to win
   your drunken husbands and sons back to a virtuous life, do you think he
   would deserve it? While I have been here in your midst every day, when the
   weather was pleasant I have spent the most of my time out in yonder grove on
   my knees, and sometimes on my face, before God, pleading with him to spare
   you and save your husbands, and wives, and sons, and daughters. You
   yourselves will bear me witness that I have not tried to persuade any one
   here to lie, steal, swear, fight or get drunk, or to do anything that is
   wrong. On the contrary I have tried to make everybody better, kind, loving,
   happy and comfortable, and to help them to get ready for the world to come
   — and this at my own expense, and in the face of slander and persecution.”

   Here Mr. Redfield’s feelings overcame him and through his tears he concluded
   by saying, “I do not think I should receive this kind of treatment.” The
   tide of influence turned, and the meetings went on with greater power than
   ever.

   Mr. Redfield says: “This was the only instance where I felt called upon to
   say a word in self-defense.”

   Soon after he was invited to go back to the city of New York to hold
   meetings in one of the large churches. He says: “We began on Monday. The
   church immediately commenced to seek the experience of holiness. The first
   night fourteen were converted; the next night, eighteen; the next, twenty;
   amid so the number increased through the week. Sunday the house was greatly
   crowded, and especially so in the evening. During the preaching in the
   evening God was present in great power. When through with my sermon, and I
   was about to invite seekers to the altar, the preacher stopped me, saying:
   “Wait a while; I am going to marry a couple before the prayer meeting.” I
   said: “O brother, don’t! I am afraid you will divert the attention, and
   destroy the interest of the meeting.”

   “I can make it very solemn, and besides I have promised to do it,” he
   replied.

   “For the Lord’s sake, and souls’ sake,” I pleaded, “don’t do it. You will
   crush out this interest.”

   “Well,” said he, “I shall do it.”

   Cannot you take the couple into the basement?’ I asked. “Don’t break us up
   here.”

   “But in spite of my entreaties he arose and commenced the ceremony by a
   brief lecture on the nature and solemnity of marriage. In a few minutes I
   saw our opportunity for getting people saved that night was lost. He
   finished the ridiculous affair, and we tried to have a prayer meeting, but
   the Spirit had been grieved, and the effort was a failure. The revival came
   to an end right there.”

   Mr. Redfield went from this to another church where some three hundred had
   professed conversion. He expected to preach but one night. When he was
   through with his sermon the pastor followed with remarks, and asked if the
   meetings should close. The congregation voted, No. He then asked: “How many
   will seek religion if the meetings continue?” About five hundred arose. The
   meetings went on for some time, and the conference minutes showed afterwards
   that about five hundred additional ones were taken into the church.

   These successes were very assuring to Mr. Redfield of the wisdom of
   preaching the doctrine of holiness. He was also much encouraged by the
   promptness and thoroughness with which a minister was dealt with in an
   eastern conference for publishing a pamphlet opposed to the Wesleyan view of
   the doctrine. He was required to renounce his pamphlet, and to promise not
   to preach his peculiar opinion. This minister then took a transfer to
   another conference.

   About the same time Jesse T. Peck, afterwards bishop, published a work on
   the subject, entitled, “The Central Idea of Christianity.” Quite a
   controversy on this subject had arisen in the church, and the new book was
   written in defense of the true doctrine. Much of it appeared in one of the
   church periodicals first. It was finally published in a permanent form,
   after being enlarged and adapted to popular use. This work discussed every
   feature of the doctrine that now attracted the public attention, but not in
   a controversial manner or spirit. To read it now, one would scarcely gather
   from its pages that the doctrine was ever disputed. The work soon became an
   authority on the subject, and has been used in the course of study for
   preachers in at least one of the Methodist bodies of America.

   Some strong men were enlisted on both sides of this controversy. In favor of
   the doctrine as held by the early Methodists were found Nathan Bangs, the
   first historian of American Methodism; the author of “The Central Idea”;
   Joseph Hartwell; and, not the least in the tribes of Israel, Phoebe Palmer.
   On the other side were Hiram Mattison, C. P. Bragdon, and others.

   Mr. Redfield now thought the doctrine was safe, and the return of the church
   to her ancient simplicity and power was assured; but he subsequently wrote,
   “I had yet to learn that hostility to right never ceases.”

   He went to spend the winter in Philadelphia. He labored for a while in St.
   George’s Methodist Episcopal church, the oldest church of that denomination
   in the city. It had been the cradle of Methodism. The pastor had lately been
   brought into the experience of perfect love, and entered heartily into the
   methods and labors of Mr. Redfield. God greatly poured out his Spirit, and
   many were saved. In the midst of this success, the minister who had been
   required by his conference to renounce his pamphlet and promise not to
   preach his peculiar views, appeared upon the scene amid commenced to oppose
   the work then in progress. But God had given the doctrine of holiness such
   favor in the eyes of the people that the work went on in triumph.

   Mr. Redfield now visited another church by especial request, but was
   permitted to preach but once.

   He then visited another church. Here he found a state of revival. Some three
   hundred had already been converted. The pastor said: “We have had a great
   work. I desire you to preach a few sermons on holiness to help us regain the
   spirituality we have lost in our efforts for others. I think it will do us
   good for you to do so.”

   Mr. Redfield had a favorable opinion of the moral state of the church, and
   thought it in a good condition to take hold of the doctrine of holiness. But
   he asked the pastor: “Do you know what you ask? Are you prepared to allow
   the doctrine of holiness to be pressed upon your people?”

   “I don’t know what I have to fear,” he answered.

   “Well, let me tell you,” said Mr. Redfield, “my impression is that the
   introduction of that doctrine will be accompanied with results beyond your
   conception as to their magnitude. Why, sir, this work has but just begun.”

   “Well,” said he, “I’ll risk it.”

   The doctrine of holiness was made the theme of the meetings. In a few days
   it became necessary to close and even lock the doors after the church was
   comfortably filled, in order to work with success. The scenes of power were
   most remarkable. The saved would shout, jump, fall, so as to block the
   aisles. Sinners in the midst of this would crowd their way through and
   sometimes climb over the seats to get to the altar, and when that was
   filled, they would sometimes fill a row of seats clear across the church. So
   great became the press of seekers, and the violence of the commotion, that
   the preacher became alarmed and abruptly closed the meetings.

   Mr. Redfield then went to two other churches, but was permitted to preach
   but once in each, and then took the meetings to private houses. The work of
   holiness went on in power. The last afternoon meeting, fourteen were
   sanctified.

   He then visited many places in quick succession, stopping but one or two
   -weeks in each. During this time, he saw many souls saved, but afterwards
   thought he had made a mistake in leaving most places so soon.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 26

   Mr. Redfield went now to a place on Long Island where a Methodist church had
   been compelled to contend for a bare existence against the opposition of
   other churches. One minister was very violent in his opposition. He warned
   the people against attending the meetings, especially while Mr. Redfield was
   there. This only aroused their curiosity, and the house was full from the
   beginning. Among those who came the first night was an infidel school
   teacher. The next day he said to his scholars: “Tell your parents I have
   been to the meetings and have heard the new preacher. Tell them I say he is
   the only honest preacher in the place, and if what he preaches is religion,
   it is worthy of their fullest confidence. Tell them to come out and hear for
   themselves.”

   They did come; God owned the truth, and revivals broke out in different
   places in the vicinity besides, and many souls were saved. The minister here
   was a good man and had been very successful; but he was now nearly worn out
   from excessive labors.

   From this place Mr. Redfield went to the former home of Freeborn Garrettson,
   one of the pioneers of Methodism. Here he found the widow of that soldier
   for Jesus still living, and in readiness waiting for her summons to the
   mansions of the blest. Among the tokens of friendship he received here was a
   set of Benson’s Commentaries from Mrs. Garrettson. These had belonged to Mr.
   Garrettson, and had his autograph upon a blank leaf. Here some fifty or
   sixty were saved.

   Mr. Redfield next went to C_____,about fifty miles distant. Here there was a
   powerful work among sinners, resulting from the church entering into the
   experience of holiness.

   On leaving C_____, Mr. Redfield went to labor in the suburbs of New York
   city again. Here there was not much accomplished, as the church did not
   readily embrace the experience, nor welcome the doctrine of holiness. It was
   early in the fall, and the people did not feel sufficiently released from
   business to enter upon a revival campaign; so he abandoned the effort.

   While here he was constantly waiting upon God to know where he should spend
   the winter. One day there came before him the peculiar sign that had
   indicated the will of the Lord many times before. He got a map of the United
   States and found the sign to point in the direction of Cincinnati. He had
   before this been invited by Bishop Hamline to visit that city, and he now
   resolved to enter every open door that led in that direction. Soon a brother
   from Philadelphia came and invited him to return to that city where he had
   spent the previous winter. He resolved to go because it seemed to lead
   toward Cincinnati. But that night his track was laid out for him in a dream.
   He must begin at Goshen. The next morning an invitation came from Goshen to
   help in a protracted meeting there. He told the minister from Philadelphia
   that he would go to Goshen and write to him from there. His reasons for this
   decision he kept to himself.

   Goshen was a county seat, and had a very bad name. A Methodist bishop on
   passing through the place some years before found that there was no
   Methodist preaching in the place, and at the next meeting of the Home
   Missionary Society presented the matter. A minister was sent, but found no
   place in which to preach. The principal church building in the place was an
   old affair, and the membership of the church led such inconsistent lives
   that it had very little influence for good. The place seemed almost given up
   to skepticism and drunkenness. A new church was finally built by the
   denomination that owned the old one, and the latter passed into the
   possession of a gentleman who allowed the Methodists to occupy it. But it
   was in such a bad condition that many considered it unsafe. The Methodist
   preacher finally raised money to build a church, but when he came to
   purchase a lot, the only one he could buy was a frog pond.

   Undaunted by this, he had the pond drained, and built his church. The new
   church was to be the scene of Mr. Redfield’s labors. The preacher was a
   gentleman and a Christian, and stood by the evangelist as he endeavored to
   preach the straight, plain truth. Some of the poor members were badly
   frightened, at the thought of losing caste with the established church of
   the place if they should obtain a higher type of piety than they now
   enjoyed. The editor of the local paper was a deacon in that church, and he
   used his paper to bring the meetings into disrepute. The rumsellers became
   violent in spirit, and accused the evangelist of proving himself a bad man
   by destroying their business. They complained that they had lost about sixty
   dollars during the first three weeks of the revival; and if the meetings
   went on, their families would soon suffer for the necessaries of life.

   When the other churches found they could not drive the Methodists out of the
   town, they tried to build themselves up by proselytizing. Some of their
   members began to come into the meetings and to sing with the young converts,
   and to make much of them, and at last to lead them before their church
   officers to be received into church fellowship. When about sixty had been
   received into the church to which the village editor belonged, his paper
   changed its tone, and instead of saying anything more about the unhealthy
   excitement of the Methodist meetings, it spoke of the gracious revival in
   the _____ church.

   The infidels, to cast odium on the meetings, got up a mock prayer meeting.
   The wife of the ringleader, at whose house this meeting was held, became
   frightened and left. Her husband went insane before their meeting closed. He
   declared he was lost forever, and in a few hours he was dead. The next
   Sunday this man’s funeral sermon was preached in the Methodist church by the
   pastor. This interposition of Providence put a stop to all opposition to the
   revival, and the work of God went gloriously forward.

   An attempt was made, soon after, to proselyte the more influential of the
   converts. Mr. Redfield finally announced from the pulpit that he was aware
   of what was going on, and threatened if he found them trying to proselyte
   the colored people or the ragged poor he would expose them. One of the
   converts was a rich old man, who some twenty years before was awakened, and
   went to a deacon, and asked how to find peace. The deacon asked him what was
   the prevailing sin of his life, and, on being informed, told the man that he
   was a reprobate, and there was no mercy for him. The man then concluded that
   he might as well enjoy himself as best he could. But eight years before the
   meeting now being described, this man had a dream, in which he was told that
   he would yet see a man who would tell him how to be saved. This made such an
   impression upon his mind that the next morning he told his wife and the
   deacon that he was sure he was not a reprobate. The night of his conversion
   was the first of his attending the meetings, and when he returned home he
   said to his wife: “I have seen the man of whom I dreamed eight years ago. He
   has told me how to be saved, and I have found it. Now I shall join the
   Methodists.”

   Another was a wealthy merchant, who had been president of the village
   corporation and was quite influential. The same old deacon who had told the
   other man that he was a reprobate could not bear the thought of losing this
   man; so he came early one morning to talk with him, but found Mr. Redfield
   present. At this he seemed disturbed, and said, “I hope I do not intrude.”
   When assured by the man of the house that he might feel perfectly free, he
   inquired:

   “Well, Mr. B_____, how do you feel?”

   “I don’t have any evidence of my acceptance yet,” the reply.

   “Evidence!” said the deacon. “You know Deacon R_____ He never had any
   evidence; and everybody thought he was a good man. But all the evidence he
   ever had of his conversion was, his heart felt as hard as a stone.”

   “But,” said Mr. B_____, “if I only knew that God heard my prayers, I should
   take hope.”

   “Hear your prayers? said the deacon. “Why, we have been praying for more
   than twenty years for a revival, and you see it has just come.”

   Said Mr. B_____, “I am now anxious that Mr. S should go with me.”

   “Oh,” said the deacon, “you need not trouble yourself about Mr. S_____, for
   if the Spirit begins with him he will have to come

   Mr. Redfield had felt that the man to whom the deacon was talking needed,
   especially, to have a thorough experience. He had been seeking earnestly for
   a number of days, and that night he was at the altar again for prayers, when
   the following conversation took place:

   “Brother,” said Mr. Redfield, “what is the reason for your not being
   converted?”

   “I don’t know; he answered.

   “Do you make a full surrender to God of all you are and have?”

   “I do.”

   “Will you give to God every dollar you own, and let him make a draft upon
   you to any amount, at any time.”

   “I will,” was his prompt reply.

   “Will you at once begin to pray in your family?”

   “Why, would it be right before I am converted?” he asked.

   “Certainly. God commands all men to pray.”

   “I will,” said he.

   “Further, my brother, will you go out and exhort sinners to come to
   Jesus?”

   “Would that be right before I get religion?”

   “Surely; for God says to every one that heareth not only to come, but “let
   him say, come.”,

   “I will,” said he.

   The meeting closed without his finding relief. He went alone to his store;
   the clerks were all gone, and going down upon his knees, he gave himself up
   to God — person, property, and all. He then went home, and set up his family
   altar. In the morning, early, he went to the home of the gentleman he had
   felt such an interest in, and said: “Mr. S, I have come on a strange errand
   to you this morning. It is to ask you to go with me and seek religion.”

   In deep emotion, Mr. S replied, “I will. Mr. B_____, pray for me.”

   “I have never tried that yet; but if you will kneel down, I will try.”

   They knelt, and while Mr. B_____ was praying for his friend, God converted
   his own soul.

   The deacon heard that Mr. B_____ was converted, and went to see him again.
   He now insisted upon Mr. B_____ ’s going before the session of his church.
   When he had him there, he pressed him hard to unite with that church. Said
   he:

   “You will not think of joining the Methodist Church; it will surely injure
   your standing if you do.”

   “Oh,” said Mr. B, “I may be too zealous for your church. I must go where I
   can save my soul alive.”

   He finally united with the Methodist Church and became a useful Class
   Leader.

   The doctrine of holiness was made the prominent theme of this revival
   meeting, and the young converts were, many of them, a few days after their
   conversion, in the clear enjoyment of the experience.

   One young lady who had been thus saved, was badly burned by the explosion of
   a fluid lamp she was filling. While her friends were endeavoring to
   extinguish the flames at the pump, she sang the hymn:


   “Am I a soldier of the cross?

   A follower of the Lamb?

   And shall I fear to own his cause,

   Or blush to speak his name?”

   A physician was called, who pronounced her not in danger of death. But she
   declared she was going to die; that her soul was full of glory, and that she
   wanted to be with Christ. On dressing her arms, the flesh fell from the
   bones. She lingered for a few days in great pain, but glorious triumph, and
   then passed away. Thus was demonstrated the genuineness of this work of
   grace, and the soundness of the teaching that was used by the Holy Spirit in
   bringing it about.

   It was estimated that more than four hundred persons were converted in this
   revival. This mission appointment became self-supporting, and an aid in the
   support of other missions.

   Mr. Redfield next went to a place seven miles from Goshen, where the
   Congregationalists had been holding a meeting until it was broken up by the
   roughs. He found the community greatly demoralized, and mostly through the
   scheming of a professor of religion, a member of a church which was jealous
   both of the Congregationalists and the Methodists. He and an infidel
   commenced operations the first night of Mr. Redfield’s meeting. After the
   service had closed, Mr. Redfield asked the membership:

   “Why do you allow such conduct in your meetings when the law protects
   you?”

   “They always do so when we commence a protracted meeting,” was the answer.
   “They have just broken up the Congregationalist meeting.”

   “But you must stop it.”

   “We dare not meddle with it.”

   “Well, I hope you will not put that burden upon me: but one thing is
   certain, if you don’t take the matter in hand I shall,” said Mr. Redfield.

   The next evening the house was greatly crowded, and in the gallery was that
   professor of religion, and his infidel accomplice. They began their
   disturbance by throwing missiles at the ladies who were coming in. The
   congregation was engaged in singing. Mr. Redfield called upon them to stop,
   and pointing to the infidel, said in a loud voice, “I hope that young man
   with the white cravat, will be civil enough to cease throwing things at the
   ladies.” The infidel made an insulting reply, and Mr. Redfield said, “Sir,
   we know our rights. A Methodist church is not a tavern nor a grogshop, and
   our rights are respected by the law, as well as those of any other church.
   Upon my honor as a man, I promise to see that the ladies who attend these
   meetings shall be protected by law. The legal penalty for disturbing a
   religious meeting, is a fine of twenty-five dollars, or imprisonment in jail
   until the fine is paid. I will meet every person who disturbs these meetings
   at the magistrate’s office, and will see that the law is executed. And you
   may tell your friends that they can come to the Methodist church and be
   respected.”

   It was very quiet that night, but the next morning one of the rowdies with
   some companions was seen standing in front of the church. He began to curse
   the members and Mr. Redfield, in a loud and very blasphemous manner.
   Suddenly he fell to the ground. His comrades thought he was dead. They took
   him to the tavern, removed his clothing, and put him in bed. After a while
   he came to, and exclaimed, “O God; what have I been doing.” He confessed his
   wrong: his companions were frightened, and all opposition to the meetings
   ceased. Within ten days from the time the meeting commenced, more than one
   hundred persons were converted. The church that had inspired such opposition
   now tried to gather the young converts into their communion, but they were
   too clear and strong to be easily taken in that manner. After Mr. Redfield
   was gone, the pastor of that church undertook to have a revival. The first
   night he announced that they wanted no shouting, nor singing of the songs
   used by the Methodists, nor any fainting away (as he called the losing of
   strength). But he invited all who desired to become Christians to rise to
   their feet. Only one arose, and that one had been seeking at the other
   meeting. In a few days the meeting came to a close with no further result.

   A request now came to Mr. Redfield to return, and make an effort to save the
   respectable part of the community, as the uncouth rabble had all been
   converted, and the probability was that the others would now be willing to
   accept of salvation. He considered that there was but one gospel and one
   salvation, for the rabble and the genteel, and as they had refused that, he
   had no other to offer.

   His next meeting was in P_____ I_____, on Long Island. Here he found a state
   of things similar to that at the last place. He told the preacher he must
   command order, as God had given them the benefit of the law. But he replied
   “The great difficulty is, some of the disturbers are children of our own
   members.” Mr. Redfield then determined to do his duty. The second evening
   came, and the rowdy element was very boisterous. He tried to quiet them by
   kind words for a season, but in vain. At last he got their attention, and
   told them to make one more demonstration if they dared, and he would see the
   law enforced the next morning. All were hushed immediately. The next night
   seventeen of the rowdies were at the altar, seeking for salvation.

   In this meeting, the afternoons were devoted entirely to the experience of
   holiness. The second afternoon the wife of a sea captain was forward,
   seeking for perfect love. In her consecration she came up against the
   question of giving up her husband. The enemy tempted her to think that if
   she gave him up the Lord would take him away, and she would never see him
   alive again. At last she was enabled to make the consecration, and the power
   of God fell upon her. As soon as she could she arose and testified to being
   saved. The work now opened with great power, and many were saved.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 27

   Mr. Redfield was next sent for to spend the winter in Boston. But before he
   started he received a letter from the preacher in Chelsea, near Boston,
   asking him to spend a few days there before commencing in Boston. He agreed
   to this, and went immediately to fill the engagement. He found the preacher
   a courageous, faithful man. His congregation was worshipping in a hall, as
   their church edifice was not yet completed.

   As usual, Mr. Redfield commenced his work by showing the standard of
   religion to be what Wesley and Fletcher and the fathers of Methodism had
   declared it to be. God owned the truth. The hall was crowded nightly with a
   congregation made up from various orthodox churches. He had labored but a
   few days before he was waited upon by a committee consisting of several
   laymen and one Methodist preacher. They told him they had come to labor with
   him, and, if possible, to disabuse his mind of some misapprehensions that he
   evidently entertained.

   He replied, “Brethren, do your whole duty.”

   Said the preacher, “By your strong and sweeping declarations against all who
   do not come up to your standard, you reflect upon the Unitarians and
   Universalists. You evidently don’t know them. Besides you offend some of our
   members whose friends belong to these communions. I regard them as good
   people, especially the Unitarians; and if there is any choice between them
   and the Methodists, it is in their favor.”

   Mr. Redfield could hardly repress his astonishment at such a declaration
   from a Methodist preacher; and replied, “Your good Unitarians and
   Universalists have the devil in them.”

   He was interrupted by one saying, “You ought to know that such rough
   deportment will not be accepted in a place as refined as the city of
   Chelsea.”

   “Well,” said he, “if you know the doctrines of Methodism as you ought to
   know them, if you are members of the Methodist Church, as you claim to be, I
   will this night prove to you that what I say is true. As Methodists, you
   know that our doctrine of holiness is love, and nothing but love. I think
   matters are ripe for it, and tonight, I design to present the doctrine of
   perfect love; and if it don’t smoke out devils I will give up that I am
   wrong.”

   Accordingly, the theme that night was holiness as a state to be attained
   now. While he was preaching, a young man, of a large and powerful frame,
   fell like a dead man to the floor. The people were alarmed, supposing he had
   fallen in a fit. Several went to him and carried him out of the hall. As
   soon as he could speak, he cried out, “Glory to God! You need not hold me.
   God has given me the great blessing.” He came in again, and walking up the
   aisle, testified as follows: “While Mr. Redfield was preaching, I said, “O
   Lord, I never heard about getting the second blessing. Now if the doctrine
   is true, let me know it by laying me out on the floor.” Instantly I fell as
   if I had been shot. Now I know I have got the blessing; and I love God with
   all my heart.”

   One of the Class Leaders immediately arose and said, “if that doctrine has
   got in here I am done with the Methodist Church. I am a Universalist.”

   Then another leader arose and said, “I will have no more to do with
   Methodists for I am a Unitarian.”

   But the work went on in great power, and when Mr. Redfiefd’s time was out
   about one hundred had been converted.

   He now went to Boston, and presented himself at the parsonage of the church
   in which he had engaged to labor. The minister was an old man, and had never
   met Mr. Redfield. When he found he had come he seemed frightened, for he had
   heard terrible stories of the measures used in Chelsea, reported by the
   preacher of the committee already alluded to and the infidel Methodists who
   had left the church.

   The good old man, to make it as easy as he could, said, “We have had some
   meetings, and I don’t think the brethren will be willing to open them
   again.” Mr. Redfield saw his embarrassment and dilemma, and as quietly as
   possible withdrew and returned to Chelsea. But the good man went over and
   saw for himself, and, when he returned, persuaded his people to let Mr.
   Redfield come and preach once, that they might know him for themselves.

   A goodly number of his congregation were superannuated Methodist preachers,
   engaged about the book-room in the city. Of course they had heard all the
   reports that were in circulation, and were afraid of Mr. Redfield. When the
   time came for the appointment, the meeting was held in what was called the
   small lecture-room of the church. Mr. Redfield perceived what this meant,
   but went straight forward about his work. At the close of the meeting
   several of these old preachers said, “You must stay tomorrow night, and we
   will open the large lecture-room.” Mr. Redfield did so, and took the
   strongest stand he could for primitive Methodism. God blessed the truth, and
   in a few days the main audience-room was opened, and in a fortnight forty or
   fifty were converted.

   He had now accepted an invitation to a place about two hundred miles
   distant. But the preachers of Boston, who saw how they had been deceived by
   false reports, urged him to remain. The old preachers of the congregation
   had told them that the objectionable things were the peculiarities of old
   Methodism, and that those who had left the church of Chelsea were Unitarians
   in sentiment. About the same time Prof._____, of the Wesleyan University,
   came to Boston and bore testimony to Mr. Redfield’s soundness as a
   Methodist. This so broke up the opposition that the ministers of the city
   endeavored to engage him for a year. Greatly encouraged by this, Mr.
   Redfield promised, if it was possible, he would return. But the opportunity
   to do so never came.

   He now went to U_____, as he had promised. Again the doctrine and experience
   of holiness was the theme and the apparent means of arousing a great
   religious interest, and many were converted.

   One night he observed a youngerly man sitting in the front seat who appeared
   to be greatly interested in the work. Others sitting with him manifested the
   same kindness, though none of them took part in the altar work. After the
   meeting Mr. Redfield asked one of the brethren, “Who are these persons who
   seem so pleased when people come forward?”

   “Why, don’t you know them? They are _____ists, and _____ists, and
   _____ists.”

   “Well, what are they doing here?”

   “Oh, they are watching those who come forward, to see if there are any that
   they want. If any of influence come forward, they will soon be after them.
   They never allow the Methodists to get any one here of importance if they
   can help it. They say they can do better by the upper class than we can; and
   that we are well adapted to help the lower classes. They help us
   financially, for they say we are doing a good work, both in filling up their
   church and ours. One of our preachers once asked one of theirs, “If the
   Methodists should hold all their converts what would be the result?’ The
   answer was, “Our growth would be comparatively small.”

   Mr. Redfield saw one night that these watchers were greatly elated over
   something that had occurred. After the meeting closed he asked one of the
   brethren what it meant.

   “Oh,” said he, “the man who knelt at the corner of the altar was one of such
   as they are after.”

   The next evening Mr. Redfield heard the bell of one of the churches ring,
   and he asked, “Are they going to commence revival services?”

   “No,” was the answer, “they are to have an experience meeting tonight.”

   “What is that for?”

   “Don’t you remember a man who knelt at one corner of the altar last night
   who attracted much attention?”

   “Yes; I do.”

   “Well, they are to open the doors of the church for him tonight.”

   “But he was not converted last night!”

   “That makes no difference in this case.”

   The man was received, settled down satisfied with what he had done, and
   having been addicted to strong drink, within a year was in the gutter.

   While here Mr. Redfield met a local preacher who was also a school teacher,
   whose wife had opposed his preaching. But if he did not preach to a
   congregation at least twice a week, he would preach in his sleep. He would
   repeat the hymns, call on some one to pray, and then take a text and preach
   in a regular manner, but so loud that it drew the attention of the
   neighbors, who would gather about the house to listen. This so humiliated
   the wife that she gladly yielded to his preaching regularly.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 28

   Mr. Redfield visited Newburgh just before the camp meeting held near there
   that year. He endeavored, as usual, to present the truths of real Methodism.
   Some Episcopalians who had united with the church, entered into the
   experience of holiness, and shouted in their newfound liberty; while some
   Methodists who had never belonged to any other church, became angry and
   opposed the work. The pastor was displeased, but the old presiding elder
   stood by the doctrine, the experience, and the work.

   In its early history Newburgh was completely under the control of infidels,
   who intimidated Christians and those who desired to be Christians. They were
   very violent and blasphemous, but nearly all of them died violent deaths,
   and their passing away left impressions that went far to contract the
   influence of their lives. Mr. Redfield spent but a few days here, as the
   camp meeting soon commenced.

   At the camp meeting he did not feel much liberty for a day or two. There was
   evidently an effort on the part of the preachers to get along without him.
   On Thursday afternoon, one of the preachers, after exhausting his skill in
   trying to make things go, turned and said: “Brother Redfield, can’t you do
   something?” He answered in a loud voice, “No! but I know of one that can.
   The Lord Jesus Christ will take the whole matter into his own hands, and no
   man can stay it, if you begin at the right end by getting holiness.” He was
   permitted to take the meeting, and in his peculiar way he set forth the
   conditions of full salvation, and called upon all who would meet these
   conditions to kneel at the mourner’s bench. They were in a large
   prayer-meeting tent. Many immediately knelt, evidently understanding what
   they were about. But scarcely had they engaged in prayer before the slaying
   power fell upon them, and sinners, without an invitation rushed forward to
   find a place to kneel as seekers. The tent was eighty feet long with a row
   of seats running the whole length through the center. During the remainder
   of the camp meeting, without cessation, that bench was filled with seekers,
   and sometimes two and three rows on each side, the men on one side, and the
   women on the other. As soon as any were converted, they would be taken away
   to make room for others, and there seemed to be some one waiting to take the
   vacant place at all times. No one had to exhort, or to persuade penitents to
   come. God was there in awful power. One remarkable thing was that many, in
   relating their experiences, testified that they were convicted at their
   homes two and three miles away, and on coming to the campground, were drawn
   to this tent. Nothing was said at any time on the subject of dress, yet
   fashionable ladies, with their bonnets filled with artificial flowers, would
   struggle and weep and cry, and when all else failed, would put up both hands
   and tear the flowers out, and in a few moments, smiling through their tears,
   they would make the woods ring with their shouts of joy.

   Such was the crowd of penitents that it was necessary to open another,
   though a smaller tent, for those seeking holiness; and these two tents
   became great centers of spiritual power.

   The first night after starting the meeting in the second tent, when ten
   o’clock came, the hour for closing all services according to the rules, the
   meeting in this tent was going on in greater power than at any time before.
   The Committee of Order sent one of their number to close the meeting. When
   he came several remonstrated with him against his action, but he persisted
   in it. While engaged in his effort, he was suddenly stricken to the ground;
   and the Spirit seemed to be poured out in greater power still. The increased
   noise showed the other members of the committee that their man had not
   succeeded, and they dispatched a more resolute one to his assistance. He had
   not more than reached the tent before he was also smitten to the ground.
   Again the shouts of praise and the cries for help from the Lord rose higher
   and stronger than before. A third man was then sent with orders to bring the
   meeting to a close, at all hazards. When he arrived and saw the other two
   committeemen prostrate, he beat a hasty retreat, and informed the remaining
   members of the condition of the first two, and that if they desired the
   meeting closed they must do it, for he would have nothing to do with it. The
   meeting was no more interfered with, and ran on until after daylight the
   next morning. It was estimated that more than one hundred were converted in
   the other tent during the night. When we consider that this wonderful work
   commenced immediately after Mr. Redfield took hold of the meeting in the
   circumstances of the afternoon previous, we cannot but conclude that it was
   a demonstration of the correctness of his method.

   This incident gives a clue to his wondrous power to break through to victory
   on occasions like that; and also illustrates the close alliance of the two
   phases of revival work, — sanctification and pardon.

   The afternoon following, Mr. Redfield was leading a meeting for holiness,
   and while pointing out the details of perfect submission to the will of God,
   an old minister present, exclaimed, “You lay too many burdens on the
   people;” but when Mr. Redfield came to speak of the final act of faith, he
   cried out, “You make it too easy.” When Mr. Redfield finished speaking, the
   same old minister said to him, “If I could see this course accompanied with
   demonstrations of power, I would think more favorably of it.” Just then a
   call came for Mr. Redfield to go to another tent where several persons were
   anxiously seeking, and he invited the old minister to go with him, saying,
   “Perhaps the Lord will give you the demonstration you desire.” When they
   arrived at the tent they found a large number of persons present, all
   seated, but some of them in deep struggles of soul.

   In his own account of this matter, he says, “Among them was a large, strong
   woman, whom none would call nervous, but who was wringing her hands, swaying
   back and forth, and audibly praying, “O Lord, I must have it; I shall die
   without it. I can’t live any longer in this manner.” I perceived that her
   consecration was complete, but she was making the mistake of trying to
   obtain the experience by will power. All present seemed to expect me to get
   down and by vociferous praying to heighten her emotions, and by this tempest
   to help them all. But instead of that I sat down by her side and endeavored
   to get her attention. This was quite difficult to do, but I finally
   succeeded, and then I inquired:

   “What do you want?’

   “Oh,” said some, “I want to be entirely sanctified.”

   “How much do you want it?’

   “Oh, I would give all I have.”

   “Are you sure of that? Are you willing I should turn your heart inside out,
   and let all your desires be seen just as they are?’

   “Yes, I am,” she replied.

   “Well, I can’t do that, but I asked it for your own benefit. You now know
   you are honest. This is the starting point, honesty. Don’t let the devil
   drive you from that point. Now, with that honesty, can you, will you say,
   The will of the Lord be done?”

   “I do,” was her prompt reply.

   “Will you say this, and let God take you at your word in a moment?’

   “I will,” she answered, very emphatically.

   “I then described to her a possible example of suffering, and remarked:
   “Remember, God may take you at your word. Now, in view of anything he may
   ask, do you yet say, “Thy will be done?’

   “Again she answered, “Yes.”

   “I then described to her an example of duty, of going from house to house in
   the city of New York, where she lived, and asked: “Will you do this if God
   wills it?”

   “She answered: “I will do that when I have the grace to do it with.”

   “But, sister, is God at fault, that you have not the grace of perfect love
   up to this time?’

   “Oh, no! God is not at fault.”

   “Well, can you, will you, say, blessing or no blessing, if visiting and
   exhorting from house to house would be my duty if I had the blessing, I will
   not let my disobedience in the past be an excuse for disobedience in the
   future; I will go and do that duty?”

   “Yes, I will,” she replied.

   “Well, sister, who has required all this of you?”

   “Enquiringly she looked up and said, “Jesus; has he not?”

   “Oh, yes!” I replied; “and now I ask, sister, if Jesus has required all this
   and you have surrendered, do you believe he will ever accept of it?’

   “Most certainly,” said she, “for he is not trifling with me. He will, won’t
   he?”

   “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” said I. “But the only question now is sister, when
   do you think he will accept of what you have just surrendered?’

   “She stopped as if a new thought had struck her; her face changed, and the
   next moment she shrieked out, “NOW!” and fell to the ground, where she lay
   and made the woods ring with her hallelujahs.

   “But I do not think the old minister was satisfied with this exhibition, for
   he shortly after was making complaints of some who fell while they were
   repeating the doxology, though several were converted and a number
   sanctified.

   “The sister who came out so brightly, went home from the camp meeting, lived
   a faithful life, and died triumphantly a few years after.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 29

   Immediately after the camp meeting described in the last chapter, Mr.
   Redfield went to a small village a few miles away to spend the Sabbath. A
   number of retired business men, residing in the village, had built a
   commodious church and had presented it to the Methodists. The preacher
   appointed had staid away from the camp meeting to prepare a controversial
   sermon on baptism, which Mr. Redfield was destined to hear the following
   Sunday. Of course the appointment was out for this special sermon, and the
   door for the evangelist was closed for the morning. The minister was careful
   to keep it closed in the evening, also. An invitation to conclude the
   service gave an opportunity for a brief exhortation, in which Mr. Redfield
   set forth the type of religion that would save. The minister was very
   restless, but did not interfere. At the close of the service one of the men
   who had built the church came to the minister and asked who the stranger was
   who had spoken. The preacher thinking he was about to be reprimanded for
   allowing Mr. Redfield to speak, began to apologize, and said, “He is a local
   preacher from New York city.”

   “Well,” said the inquirer, “if that is Methodist doctrine, why do you trifle
   with us as you have, by giving us bosh? Why not like an honest man tell us
   the truth?”

   The poor preacher for the time was humbled.

   Mr. Redfield began to observe many such instances of unfaithfulness, while
   men of less talent and learning but more zeal and faith, and consequently
   more efficient, were either kept out of the conferences, or crowded out on
   to the frontiers. He also found that some of these, both in the ministry and
   the laity, like the one just described, seemed to conspire against genuine
   Methodism. He saw that Asbury, Bramwell, Abbott and Nelson would not be
   tolerated by such ministers. He saw the lives of these worthies on sale at
   the book rooms, and sometimes peddled among the membership of the church by
   these ministers who took pains to hold up to ridicule those who strove to
   walk the same way. This caused him seasons of great depression of spirits.
   At these times he would be greatly tempted to give up the battle. Sometimes,
   he would conclude that he had looked on the dark side so much, that he might
   be deceived as to the real state of things.

   Just at this time Sister Phoebe Palmer informed him of a brother in Western
   New York who felt the same as he did, and was engaged in the same kind of
   work. He determined to find this brother and by his aid settle the question
   that troubled him. It was also made known to him that this strange brother
   desired his attendance at a camp meeting about to be held, and he needed no
   urging to accept the invitation, and in due time was on his way to the
   place.

   Speaking of his visit to the camp meeting and of his introduction to the man
   he wished to meet, Mr. Redfield says:

   “I was full of conjectures as to the appearance and spirit of the man I was
   about to meet. I knew some Congregationalists and Presbyterians who were
   welcoming the doctrine and experience of holiness as it had been taught by
   the early Methodists; but to see a living Methodist who saw, felt, and
   labored, as I saw, felt and labored, was to be to me a treat indeed. On
   reaching the campground, Sister Palmer introduced him to me. He was very
   cautious, but courteous and hearty in his deportment. The next moment he was
   gone, I knew not where. I soon heard a voice leading a holiness meeting, to
   which I drew near and listened for some time, and finally said to myself,
   “I am not alone in my peculiar views of holiness.” I drew nearer, where I
   could see as well as hear, and found the speaker to be the very man whom I
   had come so far to see — Fay H. Purdy.

   Referring to this meeting, Mr. Redfield continues: “I went into the stand
   one day between services, and found my friend in conversation with a pale,
   sickly-appearing man, who was confessing to him, with deep emotion, that he
   had wronged him. The sick man said: “I expect to die; I want to die in peace
   with all men. I have tried to injure your influence, and now I ask your
   pardon.” This was readily granted; and soon after I took my friend aside and
   said to him: “My brother, that confession is worth something, but I think
   you should never let it be known; let it die with you.” But how greatly was
   I shocked to see in the public prints a short time after, a more severe
   criticism on my friend from this same man than he had ever given before.

   “This man included Sister Palmer and myself in these criticisms. I made no
   attempt to reply to him, and he soon dropped me. But Sister Palmer, or some
   one for her, returned the fire, and a newspaper war upon the subject of
   holiness here began, which to my knowledge was a prime cause of awful
   backsliding. I found places in my labors where confessions were made of this
   stamp:

   “So many years ago I enjoyed the blessing of holiness; but when I saw in one
   of our Methodist papers articles against the doctrine of holiness, I first
   was shocked, and then began to reason: if ministers, who ought to know more
   than I do, say the doctrine is untrue, it may be I am mistaken. And giving
   up the doctrine, I soon lost the experience.” One of these owned up that it
   brought him to the gutter.

   “Some of the preachers who encouraged the sickly man I have described, a few
   years after were glad to get rid of him.”

   From this camp meeting Mr. Redfield went to another, and there found that
   the sickly minister, whose confession he had heard, had so cautioned the
   presiding elder, who was in charge, against him, that he was not allowed to
   labor much.

   From here he went to Peekskill, where forty or fifty were converted in a few
   days.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 30

   From Peekskill Mr. Redfield went, on invitation of the chaplain, to visit
   the Marine Hospital of New York city. Not knowing his congregation, he
   committed himself to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He was led to treat
   them with all the kindness he could command. The main drift of his preaching
   was to offer hope, and they would break down and cry like whipped children.
   Many were clearly converted, and some of them died soon after in the
   triumphs of the Christian faith. He staid but a short time, and after he was
   gone, some of them entreated the matron to send for him, “for,” they said,
   “nobody understands us as he does. The ministers who come here think we are
   a hard set and preach to us of hell; and that don’t do us any good, for we
   are used to that; but when one preaches to us kindly, that breaks us all
   down.”

   When Mr. Redfield heard this he made inquiries in regard to these
   brokenhearted mariners who had come here to die, and found that many of them
   had served terms in the state’s prison; and, when discharged had changed
   their names and enlisted in the United States service. This made a deep
   impression upon him, and taught him that these men were not hypocrites; that
   the terrors of the law do such no good for they are already in a hopeless
   state of mind. Hope only can reach them.

   He went from here to the Sing Sing state’s prison by invitation of the
   chaplain of that institution. Here he followed what he believed were the
   leadings of the Holy Spirit, and preached to the prisoners in the same
   manner that he did to the sailors in the hospital. He says: “I could not see
   that they were different from the mass of mankind. These had been caught,
   the others had not. I felt drawn to address their better nature; if possible
   to arouse it to respond to the truth and the call of God. I told them God
   condemned men when the decision is made to commit sin; while man condemned
   for the action only. I tried to show them that each had redeeming traits,
   and that they might, if they would, by the grace of God, rise to a life that
   would be acceptable in the world to come. That though men might look upon
   them as degraded and lost, yet they were capable of bearing the image of
   God. To men they might appear criminal., but with God all men are criminals.
   What if men do brand you with names of dishonor and disgrace, and chisel
   those names in the monuments of human remembrance; and what if you die
   unhonored and are buried in yonder prison graveyard, and no stone to mark
   the spot? if you will avail yourselves of the means God has provided, your
   names shall be written in the Lamb’s book of life, and angels shall keep
   watch over your sleeping dust, and in the morning of the resurrection you
   shall come forth to be honored by the King of kings.

   “I did not attempt to apologize for their sin, or to soften the color of
   their crimes, but tried to refer the question of the difference between them
   and the rest of mankind to the judgment day, the proper place for the
   settlement of the question. I told them that it was honoring themselves to
   say to the Almighty, “Against thee and thee only have I sinned.”

   “The magical effect of kind words addressed to their hopes was wonderful to
   behold: the dropping tear, the anxious look, with now and then a flash of
   gratitude, as they gazed upon a poor mortal like themselves, who instead of
   upbraiding them was endeavoring to induce them to try once more to rise to
   true manhood, and to aspire to the society of heaven.

   “The next day as I passed through the prison, I thought I experienced some
   of the emotions of the Angel of Mercy. I was allowed to converse with some
   of the prisoners, and found some of them penitent, and quite a number of
   them genuinely converted to God. I was astonished to see the depravity and
   entire alienation from God of some. Some awakened ones desired me to step
   one side that they might talk freely to me. One among them, who had been
   sentenced for ten years, who had already served out five, and had given his
   heart to Christ, now with tears running down his cheeks, confessed that his
   sentence was just; and that God in mercy had allowed him to come to that
   place for his own good. He said he had not a relative or a friend to come to
   him in his disgrace, and yet he was so happy and so contented that he could
   not bear the thought of leaving the place lest the snares of the world
   should entrap him again. He said, “When I go to my cell and sit down on my
   bunk, Jesus comes and sits with me, and we have such sweet communion that I
   would rather stay here than lose it.”

   “The warden told me that there were some prisoners so violent that they had
   to be kept with a ball and chain fastened to their ankles. They had once
   taken a stand in one of the cells, in defiance of the authority of the
   prison, refusing to obey orders.

   “I asked if I might see them. The warden answered, “I don’t know whether it
   is safe.” I pleaded, “Just give me permission to go to them.” This was
   finally granted, and I went in and sat down among them without any
   manifestation of fear, and trusted myself to them. In the spirit of kindness
   I conversed with them. They claimed they had been greatly abused. But I
   appealed to their sense of right and wrong; that it was their duty to do
   right whether others did or not. My kindness of manner and speech, and my
   treating them as though they were reasonable beings touched them, and soon
   they consented to change their course and submit to the discipline of the
   prison.

   “I found one man, a foreigner, who from not understanding our laws, had
   committed an offense in an effort to show kindness to one apparently in
   distress, and had received a sentence of five years at hard labor. The
   warden was greatly interested in his case, and was desirous that some one
   should make an effort to obtain a pardon for him. I undertook it with the
   assistance of another gentleman. It was necessary to get at all the facts in
   his case so as to lay them before the governor of the state. In order to
   have access to the man for this purpose, I was obliged to hire him of the
   state; and to meet the expenses, it was necessary to furnish him with
   employment. The only employment at hand that the man was fitted for required
   a second man, and one more skilled than he. The second man was a genius in
   his way. He was serving out his fifth sentence. He was very ambitious to
   excel, and loved to be appreciated, and withal very affable and agreeable.
   But he seemed to have a passion for stealing. The first man told me I must
   be on my guard or he would pick my pockets. He also told me that the man
   kept an old bag in a by-place in which he hid bits of coal and bits of cloth
   clipped from prison garments brought to him to be mended. In regard to the
   first of the two men, the effort to obtain a pardon succeeded, and he went
   forth a free man.

   “While engaged in the effort to procure this pardon, I saw several instances
   of the fidelity of woman’s love in the face of disgrace brought upon the
   family. Wives came to visit their husbands who were prisoners, but though
   there were several married women in the prison, there was not a single
   instance of a husband coming to visit his wife during all the time I was
   there.”

   During his stay at Sing Sing he held a series of meetings in the town. As
   usual, the doctrine and experience of holiness was made a prominent feature.
   There was much opposition, but victory was won for God and his truth, and
   many were saved.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 31

   About this time the preacher from Bridgeport, Connecticut, came to Mr.
   Redfield and invited him to assist him in revival services at that place. He
   said:

   “We must have a revival or lose our church. Our people have been robbed for
   years of the fruit of their labors by the proselytizing system of other
   churches; and they at last came to the conclusion to build a church which
   would overtop all others, and thus gain a position in the community which
   would command respect. But now we must lose it, for we are owing twelve
   thousand dollars, and we cannot raise that amount. You must come and help
   us.”

   Mr. Redfield replied, “I am sorry your people have been trying to win a name
   by worldly policy. I dread to meet the spirit which such a state of things
   is sure to foster. My experience has taught me that such a state of things
   is against the faithful preaching of the doctrine and experience of
   holiness.”

   The preacher acknowledged the mistake of the people, but said, “We have it
   and can’t afford to throw it away. What can we do? Must we give it up and
   let Methodism be driven out of the place? Or shall we try to save it?”

   Mr. Redfield finally said, “I will go;” but it was with a heavy heart. He
   knew God would hold him responsible for the faithful presentation of the
   truth and thorough dealing with men. He was almost certain that he would
   meet with great opposition. Referring to the state of things at this place,
   he says:

   “When I arrived I saw a stately edifice, eclipsing all others in exterior
   splendor. Two great towers, one bearing a bell and the other a clock, reared
   their massive proportions in front; the whole of antique architecture and
   “loud” appearance. My heart ached in view of the prospect. I thought, “This
   course will destroy the last vestige of real Methodism, unless God come to
   the rescue.” I could see none among the ministry who dared to risk their
   chances of preferment by attempting to stem the tide. But somebody must
   fearlessly take sides with God, and he will possibly be crushed for his
   pains. I thought I comprehended the situation; I realized my own weakness;
   but I resolved in the name of God and pure religion to do my duty. When I
   had done so, I felt a strengthening of my soul, and the sweet assurance that
   God approved of the vow.”

   In his preaching, from the commencement, he endeavored to arraign the
   conscience before God. At the close of the first service the pastor, on the
   way home, asked if a less objectionable class of truths could not be used.
   Mr. Redfield replied: “Do you think Jesus would mutilate the truth, and
   tacitly give men to think that he had preached the whole? and this when he
   had not touched the real evil of the case?”

   “Well,” said he, “I am afraid your course will ruin us.”

   “Brother,” said Mr. Redfield, “what time does the next train leave here?”

   “Why, you must not leave?”

   “O my brother,” said Mr. Redfield, “I certainly shall leave if I cannot go
   the Bible track. I will allow you to call me to account at any time when you
   find me outside the Bible and the Methodist discipline, but I insist be free
   to preach the whole truth.”

   “Well,” said he, “you must stay, and we must have a revival or lose our
   church.”

   “I feel no interest in your saving your church in the present condition of
   things. It would be no calamity to religion to lose it, unless it can better
   represent Methodism than it does at present.”

   Said the preacher, “You must stay; and do be as easy with us as you can.”

   Mr. Redfield replied, “I’ll be as easy as God will let me, but no more so;
   and I wonder that any one can ask me to lower the standard of the only
   religion that can save!”

   Mr. Redfield went on with his work in the name of God and truth. In one of
   the afternoon meetings Fay H. Purdy, who was assisting him, fell to the
   floor while Mr. Redfield was praying. This was something new to the
   congregation, and unexpected to the minister. [2] The husband of one of the
   members, a man who paid well, but was without salvation, arose, apparently
   in great anger, and left the house. At this the preacher became alarmed.
   After a little, one sister arose and began to confess to dancing, playing
   cards, novel reading, and conformity to the world. The preacher became very
   uneasy, and finally arose and cautioned the people against looking on the
   dark side, and referred them to the old prophet who complained that he only
   was left to serve God; and how God corrected him with the assurance that
   there were seven thousand in the land who had not bowed the knee to Baal.

   Mr. Redfield saw the tendency of this was bad, and arising, said: “That is
   all true in the case of the old prophet; but I insist that if these members
   have been dancing, card-playing, novel-reading, and behaving in general as
   the followers of the meek and lowly Jesus ought not, it is due to him and
   the truth and the world that they confess their sins as publicly as they
   have committed them. It is only thus they can restore themselves to the
   confidence of the world as the representatives of the religion of Jesus. The
   cause of Jesus has been slandered by their conduct; and is in disrepute
   because of it. Common honesty demands that the wrong should be charged where
   it belongs. If Jesus has not disgraced his own cause, do not compel him to
   bear the odium that now rests upon it. If they have done this thing, it is
   the honorable way for them to say to the world that neither Jesus nor his
   gospel is at fault.”

   The Lord soon began to manifest himself in great power in the conviction,
   conversion, and sanctification of souls. When victory began to seem certain,
   the other churches began to accuse Mr. Redfield of bigotry, because he had
   not invited them to participate in the meetings. His experience in other
   places enabled him to perceive the motive that underlay this, and that was
   their desire to gather the converts into their own churches. He also saw
   that it would not do arbitrarily to rule them out, and that it would be for
   the good of all concerned if they, like the Methodists, should become as
   thoroughly reformed. He then gave them an invitation to unite in the work,
   but at the same time insisted that they should humble themselves before the
   Lord, and that as many of them as had been addicted to dancing, and card
   playing, etc., should make the same confessions the Methodists had. He told
   them they would have to do this if they ever regained the confidence of the
   community, and were in a condition to assist in the work. This had a
   salutary effect. It removed the objection which had been made, and put the
   responsibility of their non-affiliation where it belonged.

   One of the ministers still stood out upon the technical objection that he
   had not been invited in writing. But his motive was so apparent that his
   attitude was no hindrance to the work. He was the one above all others who
   had despised the Methodists, and yet had labored the hardest to gather their
   converts into his church.

   The skeptical portion of the community now put forth an effort to check the
   work by disturbing the services, and the strong arm of the law had to be
   invoked to stop their proceedings. The same persons then attempted to
   accomplish their purpose by petty annoyances beneath the notice of the law.
   To meet this, one Sunday evening at the opening of the service, Mr. Redfield
   told the Christians present not to fear the opposition, for victory was as
   certain as that God was the author of the gospel. God might allow these
   annoyances and persecutions for a while, but if they were likely seriously
   to hinder the work, he would take life if necessary to stop them. He then
   related a number of instances of this character which had come under his own
   observation. The next day, at dinner, in a house opposite the church, a
   daughter of the family residing there, aroused the company by relating what
   Mr. Redfield said, and characterized it as an attempt to frighten the
   people, and said, “I would like to know who will be the first to be knocked
   down in this place for ridiculing religion. Let us try it!” She then began
   clapping her hands, and shouting, “Glory, glory, glory,” and instantly fell
   to the floor in great agony. Word went out that she was dead, and was
   smitten down while ridiculing religion. An eyewitness of the scene related
   it in a large boarding house, where were a number who had been engaged in a
   similar manner, and who were now greatly shocked at what they heard. All
   opposition of this kind now ceased and the revival went forward with
   increased power. In a few weeks over five hundred were converted.

   The young girl who was so suddenly stricken down lay four or five days in
   that condition, and then was restored, but with a permanently impaired mind.

   As Mr. Redfield was about to go to another place, the minister in B_____
   said, “Before you go you must take the converts into the church.” It was
   arranged for this to be done the following Sunday. At the close of the
   sermon in the morning, Mr. Redfield requested all who desired to unite with
   the church, to come forward and be seated in the front pews. A large number
   came, when he addressed them as follows:

   “It is your duty to unite with some church. You need to be under its
   watch-care. I do not ask you to join the Methodists, nor do we want you
   unless you are in every essential point a Methodist. I do not know as one
   here desires to join the Methodists, but if there should be, I will tell you
   what we shall expect of you. We desire no one to come among us who will
   engage in proselytizing from other churches. We shall expect you to live up
   to our rules. (Here he read the General Rules of the Discipline, commenting
   on them as he passed along.) You perceive from these, there can be on your
   part no more dancing, nor card-playing, nor novel-reading, nor pleasure
   parties, nor wearing of jewelry, nor worldly conformity. This may seem hard
   to you, but there are other churches that are not so strict as this, where
   you will be welcome. You will only be a curse to us by your example and
   influence if you do not conform to our rules. Some of you know how
   faithfully we have had to deal with some here during these meetings, who
   have lived contrary to these rules. And I would say, if there are any still
   among us who are not in sympathy with our rules, and have not determined to
   obey them, you had better do so immediately, or take your letters and go
   where things are more to your mind.” (Here the preacher became very uneasy,
   and Mr. Redfield expected to be called to order, but he was allowed to
   proceed.)

   “I have now told you only what you cannot do and be a Methodist. I will now
   tell you what you must do to be a Methodist. We shall expect of you a
   faithful attendance upon all the means of grace; class and prayer meetings,
   the preaching services, and family religion. We shall expect you to be
   active in seeking the conversion of sinners, by personal labor for them and
   with them. You will be expected to make religion the first business of your
   lives. All worldly matters are to be considered but the small chores of
   life. If you cannot make this pledge to us, that you will conform to these
   rules, you had better go where it will not be required of you. If you go
   elsewhere to have the privilege of a life of inactivity in the cause of
   Christ, and of doing as you please in loving the world and conforming to it,
   you will come, by and by, to death, how soon none can tell; it may be a
   year; a month; a week; and you will open your eyes to see that you have
   exerted an influence, which is still in operation, that turns immortal souls
   out of the way to heaven and into the way to ruin. Now pass on to the
   judgment and see how it will appear there. Behold the souls over which your
   influence preponderated, like the grain of sand which turns the scale, and
   fixed their destiny forever among the lost. On the other hand, if you choose
   to join where all these things are required of you, which you perceive are
   in harmony with the word of God, your influence will be felt, and will tell
   on the side of salvation. If your probation in this life should be long or
   short, in death you may pillow your head on the bosom of Jesus, and leave
   behind you an influence in the Christian activity of those whom you helped
   to decide aright, that shall work on through the ages while you are sleeping
   in the dust; and in the great day of God there shall stand among the
   redeemed the blessed fruit of your decision, to rejoice with you forever.”

   Both the church and the preacher, if Mr. Redfield rightly interpreted the
   indications, were in great fear as to the results of this address. But when
   he asked those who wished to do so, to give their names to the church, more
   than one hundred responded; and in a few days some four hundred more did the
   same. And what was peculiar, not a single one united with any other
   denomination. Soon after this, the debt that hung over their church property
   was paid, and a second church had to be built to accommodate the
   congregation. This demonstrated that faithful work makes good Methodists.

   About this time Mr. Redfield met with the following anecdote which gave him
   much encouragement:

   “When Elijah Hedding who afterwards became bishop, was stationed in or near
   Boston, a servant girl of the celebrated Hancock family, was a member of his
   church. One Sunday she took home from the church library a volume of
   Wesley’s sermons. Soon after the lady of the house picked it up and after
   reading in it for some time, called the girl and asked where the book came
   from. The girl informed her, and added, “Our minister preaches just like
   that every Sunday.” The lady inquired his name, his street and number, and
   then ordered her carriage and drove to his house. Mr. Hedding himself
   answered the bell, and she asked, “Is this the house of Rev. Mr. Hedding?’

   “That is my name,” he replied, and invited her in. When they were seated,
   she said,

   “I have come to talk with you about joining your church.”

   “Mr. Hedding looked at her in surprise, at her attire, at her carriage
   before the door, and concluded there must be some mistake in the matter. He
   asked: “To what circumstance am I indebted for this call?’

   “She then related to him the incident of the volume of sermons, and the
   remark of the servant girl, and then added: “Those so fully accord with my
   views of what a Christian life should be that I hasten to identify myself
   with the people who hold to those views.”

   “But, madam,”. said Mr. Hedding, “do you know our discipline, and can you
   conform to our rules?’

   “He then opened the book and read them to her, and repeated the question.

   “She replied promptly: “I can, and will.”

   “Still desirous of dealing faithfully with her, and to get rid of her if she
   was not willing to be a Methodist indeed, he said: “Madam, you are a
   stranger to me, but as we are to have a love-feast next Sunday morning, you
   had better come to that; and in the meantime I will consult with my official
   brethren, and, if there is no objection, I will receive you on probation.”

   “She came to the love-feast, was received into the church, and became a
   worthy Methodist.”
     _________________________________________________________________

   [2] Rev.Clement Combes, who was present.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 32

   Towards the close of the meetings at Bridgeport, several Methodists from New
   Haven visited the services, and were desirous that Mr. Redfield should come
   to their place. But little did they know of the conflict which preceded the
   victory they had witnessed. Soon an invitation came for him to spend a
   season there. As usual with Mr. Redfield, he underwent a season of great
   spiritual suffering before he gave his answer. The first question for him to
   settle was, always: “Is it God’s will?” Then came his natural shrinking from
   the conflict that awaited him. He had heard enough of the state of the
   church in that place to know that the struggle would be a hard one. Past
   experience had taught him that his spiritual conflicts would be great, and
   attended with great suffering. He knew, too, if the opposition prevailed,
   the attempt would work against him in the future. The tide of worldliness
   had now set in so strongly, and had become so general, that wherever he went
   the battle must first be fought out in the church. And it was no light
   matter to attempt to bring a dead church into that spiritual state where it
   would be a successful working power for God and souls. He had learned that
   the tendency of worldly policy in the church was to benumb the conscience
   and blind the perceptions of the membership and ministry to the spiritual
   truths touching consecration and holy living, and that it would take a
   greater degree of divine power to awaken them than to awaken the ungodly. He
   had also learned that the carnal reasonings and fears of a worldly church
   and ministry were more serious obstacles to scriptural awakening than the
   combined opposition of all forces outside the church. It was because of this
   that he suffered so in spirit. Yet he reasoned: “Somebody must do the work.
   Whoever enters upon it, must lay every interest upon the altar of God —
   reputation, the good opinions of friends, all outlook for the future; and
   with a single eye to the truth and the glory of God, stand for the exact
   right, and take whatever comes as best he can. It may as well be me as any
   one. If I go down in the conflict, my calamity may draw the attention of
   some honest and daring one who, following God fully, may finally triumph.”

   Reader, would you call this cowardice? True bravery does not shut its eyes
   to the dangers that surround it, and then go forward blindly. He is the
   bravest man who is most conscious of the danger and still goes forward. Some
   natures less finely strung than Mr. Redfield’s would have gone forward
   easily and readily, but their work would have been more crudely and less
   thoroughly done.

   After a full consideration of the matter, Mr. Redfield consented to go, and
   informed the messenger who had come for his final answer, that he would be
   in New Haven the next Thursday night.

   New Haven was the seat of Yale College. The influence of this institution
   was hostile to Methodism, and had been from the beginning. It was a city of
   many churches, and these likewise all hostile to Methodism. At this
   particular time there was no manifestation of opposition, for Methodism had
   ceased to be a power in the city. The membership had cowered before the
   lofty claims to superiority of these churches, and had contentedly settled
   down in a subordinate position and almost ceased to have an independent
   life.

   The time came for Mr. Redfield to take the cars, but it was with the feeling
   of a soldier going into battle, and not that of one who has gained the
   victory. He went with the determination to do his full duty if he was not
   allowed to hold more than one service. When he arrived he found a number of
   brethren waiting at the depot for him with a carriage to take him to his
   boarding place. He felt grateful for this, yet he saw that it would make the
   cross heavier to do his duty to them when the time came for it. He found
   that a great effort had been made to advertise the meetings, and by the
   manner in which this had been done, much curiosity had been excited to see
   and hear him.

   When he entered the church he found a large congregation present. At the
   proper time the pastor arose and said: “Brother Redfield has finally come,
   and will preach tonight, tomorrow and next-day night,” and then sat down.
   Mr. Redfield arose, and addressed them somewhat as follows:

   “It may be so, and it may not. You may not desire me to stay after tonight.
   But, by the help of God, I mean so to preach that if I am called to the
   judgment within five minutes after I am through, I shall be ready. And it
   makes no difference to me whether I stay one day or six weeks, I shall
   certainly preach the straight judgment truth of God, the same truth we must
   die by, and be judged by, — if it takes the last brick from the foundations
   of this church.”

   With his usual unction and power, he endeavored to define the type of
   religion which was necessary to enable a soul to enter the kingdom of God.

   The mass of the membership was frightened, and with it the pastor. But one
   good old man, who knew what primitive Methodism was, came and took him by
   the hand, and bade him Godspeed.

   One of the leaders came and said: “You have altogether mistaken this people.
   That kind of preaching will not take in this place. You have tacitly
   reflected upon the other denominations in this city, and we believe they are
   pious people.”

   An ex-mayor of the city somewhat relieved the feelings of the pastor by
   saying to him: “That is the kind of preaching we need in this city. We have
   not a minister here who dares to risk his reputation to preach like that.
   That is the reason why the churches have been so inefficient for the last
   twenty-five years. Here, give him that, as a token of my approval,” and
   handed him a twenty dollar gold piece.

   Before the pastor got away from the church a lawyer met him, and said: “That
   is the kind of truth we want here.”

   Soon after, several more of the influential men gave their sanction to the
   truths Mr. Redfield presented, which greatly allayed the minister’s fears.

   In a few days the rabble began to serenade Mr. Redfield with doggerel
   [trivial] songs, to send him ball tickets through the post office, to hoot
   and shout after him in the street, to hold mock prayer-meetings and to mimic
   his voice and manner. The careful were greatly distressed at this, and came
   to him with the matter, but he rejoiced, as he saw in it the evidence that
   Satan was being disturbed. He told them, “The devil will soon exhaust his
   resources, and we’ll see many of these made happy in God.”

   For seven or eight weeks he preached wholly to the church. At last he was
   waited upon by several members of the official board, who told him that his
   course would ruin the church, if not soon changed. They also informed him
   that they knew of more than fifty persons who were waiting for an
   opportunity to present themselves as seekers, and they were afraid this
   perpetual labor for the church would soon become stale and offensive to
   them. One of them said, “There are many of us, and I am one of them, who
   will never get out clear until we get to laboring for sinners.”

   Mr. Redfield replied: “I know of many who desire to become Christians, but I
   tell them we are not ready for them yet. Now, brother, the trouble with you
   is, you desire to get on the wrong side of the altar. You can’t warm up by
   the exercise and call that a revival.”

   “But what will become of sinners if we spend all our time praying for
   ourselves?” he asked.

   Mr. Redfield replied by asking, “What will your prayer be worth for them if
   they do yourself no good? It would be better to ask the penitents to pray
   for the church.”

   He saw, however, that nothing but a failure would convince them, and the
   next evening he gave an invitation for penitents to come to the altar.
   Before they were through singing the first verse of an invitation hymn, the
   altar was filled. He then invited the brethren forward to pray for them. A
   large number of them came. The first brother who prayed asked for the
   blessing of God on the missionary and the Bible cause, and almost everything
   else but the seekers at the altar. Others followed in like manner.

   Mr. Redfield then arose, and said: “It is time to close, but if any of these
   penitents have been blessed, let them confess it to the people.” He tried to
   encourage them to do so, but it was in vain. He then said to the
   congregation: “I will never again while I am here ask penitents to come to
   the altar for the benefit of such dead, meaningless and formal prayers. We
   will keep to work at ourselves until we get so we can pray.”

   The next night the very ones who had been so anxious to warm up by praying
   for others, began in good earnest to pray for themselves. One or two
   received such a view of their own hearts and lives that they appeared to be
   in despair. He now appointed two meetings to be held about an hour before
   preaching, in two of the classrooms, for the benefit of those who desired to
   seek perfect love.

   In a few days God gave a few witnesses to the experience. The number of
   witnesses then began to increase faster and faster, until soon their
   aggregate power moved the entire city. Frequently there were more than one
   hundred at the altar at one time seeking for pardon. Other churches now
   availed themselves of the opportunity, and reaped great benefit from the
   general awakening. In one of these churches it was reported there were
   received above four hundred persons. The revival got into Yale College, and
   many of the students were converted. All hostility in other denominations,
   for the time being ceased, except the proselytizing to gain members.

   A good deacon came to Mr. Redfield, and told him that one minister was
   preaching to his congregation that it made no difference how people lived,
   or conformed to the world in dress and manners, if only the heart was kept
   right. Mr. Redfield felt it his duty to say publicly in regard to this, that
   God’s requirements were unbending; that his word commanded them to “love not
   the world,” and to “be not conformed to the world.” He warned the
   congregation against ministers who taught the contrary. He urged that all
   men must settle these questions with God alone, and the Bible was to be
   their guide. As a result of his faithful dealing, one woman laid aside
   several hundred dollars worth of jewelry, and went from house to house
   confessing the wrong of her fashionable life. She then tried to undo the bad
   influence of her worldly life upon her own family, and in two weeks had the
   pleasure of seeing each member of it converted to God.

   Another woman saw her husband, who was considered a model Christian, in such
   agony over his own state, that his cries aroused the whole block in which he
   lived. She then cried out, “If my husband sees himself in such a light, O
   Lord, where am I?” She sought the Lord now in the most earnest manner, and
   when she found him, so great was the blessing of God that she could not rise
   from her bed, and remained thus for more than one week. When Christian
   people came to see her, with her face all radiant with the glory of God, and
   with great power she declared, that she saw the church did not believe the
   Bible.

   Such experiences had a powerful influence in the community, and in a few
   weeks from the time that the work broke out more than fifteen hundred had
   been gathered into the kingdom of God. The Methodist church in which this
   meeting was held, was so filled with members that more than thirty families
   were unable to find seats, and another church had to be built in another
   part of the city. Yet, strange to say, the pastor afterward became an
   opposer of Mr. Redfield and spoke disparagingly of this revival.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 33

   While work was moving in great power in New Haven, a deputation from
   Stamford waited upon Mr. Redfield and invited him to that city. He accepted
   the invitation, and, immediately after closing his work at New Haven,
   repaired to that place. On being introduced to the pastor, the following
   conversation took place:

   “How many inhabitants have you here?”

   “About eighteen thousand.”

   “How many churches?”

   “Eight or ten. Our own people have three, but one is closed.”

   “What is the prevailing tone of religion?”

   “Unitarianism.”

   “How long since the Methodists had anything like a revival?”

   “About thirty years. But we have become quite respectable. The time was when
   we could not get a spot in the place on which to build a church, and we had
   to build some miles outside the town. A great change has come over Doctor
   O_____, who so bitterly opposed us then, and now he says we ought to have
   the same privileges the other churches have. Now we have this fine edifice
   in, an eligible part of the city.”

   Mr. Redfield said nothing, but he feared that this respectability had been
   gained by abandoning real Methodism.

   In due time he proceeded to the church for the first service. The message
   was to the church; the theme — the New Testament standard of religion, and
   the unlawfulness of all others. The meeting closed, and he returned with the
   pastor to the parsonage. As soon as they were seated, Mr. Redfield was
   asked:

   “Is that the course you design to pursue?

   “Yes, sir.”

   “I do not think it will do here. I think I can give you some valuable advice
   if you are willing to receive it.”

   “Very good; good advice is always acceptable. Tell me just what you
   think.”

   “Well, I think our conference preachers have done admirably here for many
   years. Brother_____, who was here years ago was a perfect gentleman, and the
   people all loved him. Brother_____, who followed him, took the same course;
   and so all of them down to the present time. These men won their way into
   the affections of the people, and have gained for us the position we occupy
   now.”

   “Then you think that is the course for me to pursue?”

   “I do.”

   “Will you tell me what time the next train leaves?”

   “You do not think of leaving, do you? We have sent for you to hold these
   meetings, and we want a revival.”

   “Brother,” said Mr. Redfield, “God has made me a rough man, and given me a
   rough gospel for rough hearts. I shall leave; for if you think a little more
   of the same stuff which you have had is necessary, and which you acknowledge
   has been a failure for thirty years, you have all the tools necessary, and
   have no need of me. I will go where the people will allow me to use God’s
   only tools for saving men.”

   After some moments of silence, he replied: “Well, my time is nearly out, as
   this is near the close of my last year; and I will allow you to go on.”

   Two days after, in an afternoon meeting, an old man, a member of the church,
   arose and said: “I went home from meeting last night, and went to bed, but I
   could not sleep. I thought I was sick, and would die before morning, and I
   dared not sleep. I arose and knelt down and tried to pray. I struggled the
   remainder of the night, but about the break of day God spoke peace to my
   soul.” And then raising his voice very loud he cried: “My brethren, this is
   the same kind we used to have thirty years ago.” Then arose a sister, who
   said: “Brethren, when I heard what a great revival was in progress in New
   Haven, where Brother Redfield was laboring, I thought, “If he will only come
   here, what a good time we would have.” But when he came, and began to
   preach, I said: “O Lord, I can’t have it come this way.” I thought he would
   put it on to the sinners, but when he preached so sharp to us, I thought “I
   never can endure it.” But last night, when I went home I could not go to
   bed, so I sat up all night and prayed God to have mercy on my soul. And
   early this morning he came in power to me. Oh, this is the same kind we used
   to have years ago!” and she fell, as though dead, to the floor.

   Another and another arose, and gave in substantially the same testimony. Dr.
   O_____, who had come to the meeting, evidently out of curiosity, by this
   time had become quite angry, and now arose and left the house. As he passed
   out he said to one: “Such things ought not to be tolerated; and Mr. Redfield
   ought to be shut up at once.”

   The meetings went on in great power for several weeks, and many were saved.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 34

   After his labors in Stamford, Mr. Redfield visited the camp meeting at
   _____, and there saw such an illustration of the power of divine grace to
   save as he had never witnessed before. It was the case of a man who had
   become so abandoned that several times he had been a candidate for the
   penitentiary. To all appearance, his mind was but a wreck. He was a fish
   peddler, but when he could find any one who would gamble with him, he would
   leave his fish to decay in his cart. So wretched and vile had he become that
   some thought it was useless to pray for him. Some months after this, Mr.
   Redfield saw him again, and the change in him seemed like that in the
   demoniac of Gadara, when Jesus had cast out the evil spirit. His body was
   still a ruin; his mind, stupid; his person, filthy; and his whole external
   appearance, very repulsive; yet when he spoke of his experience there was
   such a charm in his artless testimony as gave a most vivid illustration of
   the power of grace to overcome the devil.

   At this same camp meeting he met with an Indian preacher whose religious
   experience was very marked. In relating it he said:

   “I was powerfully awakened. I sought to get help from the white man. I heard
   of a camp meeting and thought, “I’ll get help there;” I went to the place,
   but seemed to get no help. I was uneasy and wandered from place to place
   about the grounds. I went from tent to tent, looked into them, and seeing
   nothing to help me, turned away. I was most wretched. Finally the meeting
   closed; the last tent was struck; the last wagon driven from the ground, and
   I was yet unsaved. Night came on. I walked into a little ravine, the bed of
   which was dry, and laid down on the grass, determined never to rise until I
   found peace. During the night it began to rain, and after awhile the water
   began to run down the ravine. It came up around my sides, and then ran over
   me. I raised my head so I would not drown. At last, when it seemed as though
   I would drown if I staid there longer, God blessed me, and I crawled out of
   the water and went on my way.

   While at this meeting he also became acquainted with another Indian, the son
   of a chief, who told of the great concern he felt for his people, and how
   God had used him in bringing his relatives to God. He related the following
   story:

   “I procured a Testament printed in the Chippewa language. Having found Jesus
   myself, I wanted to see my red brother enjoying the same. I asked him to go
   out into the woods with me. We took our seats on a log. I then read to him
   about the death of Jesus. I read on and on, when at last he laid his hand on
   me and said, “Just stop there.” I stopped, and he started to leave me. I
   knew from his looks what he meant, and neither spoke nor followed him, but
   remained sitting on the log. He went over a little knoll and began to pray
   in good earnest. He continued to cry for mercy until the sun was going down,
   when suddenly he bounded to his feet like a deer. God had saved him. He now
   started for his father’s wigwam, and going in, knelt down and began to pray.
   Soon his mother came and knelt by his side, and then a sister, and then
   another; and finally his father came and knelt down. By the morning all were
   converted. His father was so happy over his new religion, and so anxious to
   spread it, that he started for the store of the white man who sold
   fire-water (whisky) to the tribe. When he got there, he said to the white
   man:

   “We have lived together here for a long time. We have been good friends, and
   never had a quarrel.”

   “That is true,” said the white man.

   “Now, I want you to do me one good thing as a friend. You know I never asked
   you for anything before.”

   “Well, I’ll grant you the favor if I can; what is it?” asked the white man.

   “Then,” said the Indian, “Don’t sell any more fire-water to the Indians. You
   know many of them have come here and bought the fire-water, and some of them
   when drunk have tried to cross the river and have been drowned; and some of
   them have fallen in the snow and have frozen to death. And our people have
   been made wretched by drinking the fire-water.”

   “The white man made the promise, and the old Indian returned home to pray
   for him. The next morning he went near enough to see that the store was
   closed, and then went back to pray for the white man more; and to let him
   have time to think it over. The next morning he went again to see, and found
   the store still closed. The third morning he found the store was still
   closed; but he went now to see how the white man got along. He found him in
   despair. He tried to comfort him, but he said: “No! no! it is true; I’ve
   been the means of the deaths of those who were drowned, and of those who
   were frozen, and there can be no mercy for me.”

   “The old Indian tried to think of something that would give the poor man
   hope, and finally said: “There must be hope for you, for the Lord had mercy
   on me. If he can save an Indian, he can save a white man.”

   “The poor man laid hold on this, and was saved. He then went among the
   Indians and became a successful missionary among them.”

   At another camp meeting during this season, Mr. Redfield met a converted Jew
   in whom he became greatly interested. He was a son of a rabbi. He told Mr.
   Redfield the following story of his father’s death, as an illustration of
   how Christ comes to some of his people in the dying hour. When his father
   was drawing near to death, and while uttering the usual cry of his people at
   such times, “he called for me,” said the son, “and said to me, “O my son, I
   have tried to live in good conscience all my life. I have tried honestly to
   serve the God of my fathers; but now in my great extremity I do not feel
   prepared to die. I have done everything I can think of to prepare me to meet
   God, except to have a sacrifice offered for me. But that is impossible; we
   have no temple and no high priest.” Some of our Jewish friends came as usual
   at such times, and exhorted him, as a last act of fidelity to God, to curse
   Christ, and thus deny all fellowship with idolatry. But he broke out saying:
   “God forbid that I should deny my only hope of salvation.”

   “This,” said the young man, “is of frequent occurrence among the more
   devoted Jews.”

   This incident afforded Mr. Redfield much comfort, for the thought of
   missionary work among the Jews, and how to do it, had been much upon his
   mind.

   During the summer, while visiting in Stamford, as he passed a house one day
   a lady called him in to see her husband who was in despair over the doctrine
   of election. He had, in childhood, been taught the Calvinistic faith, and
   although he had been a Methodist for years, he could not shake off entirely
   that teaching.

   Mr. Redfield asked him, “How long have you been in this state of mind?”

   “For twenty years,” he replied. His wife said he would sometimes shut
   himself up in a room and pray and groan for hours together without any
   relief.

   Mr. Redfield said to him, “Tell me as near as you can all about it.”

   “Oh,” said he, “I am afraid that I am a reprobate; that Christ never died
   for me. Sometimes I feel my heart a little softened, so I can weep a little;
   and then I take comfort and hope that I am not lost. But the hardness
   returns, and then I am in distress again.”

   “Well said Mr. Redfield, “I am not going to use any arguments against that
   false doctrine; but I want you in your heart to say, I believe Jesus died
   for me.”

   “Oh,” said he, “I would not dare to do so wicked a thing, for if he did not
   die for me, I should then be believing a lie.”

   “Never mind that,” said Mr. Redfield, “for if Christ did not die for you,
   according to this miserable doctrine, you are lost any way, and to believe
   one more lie cannot make your case a great deal worse; you had better risk
   it.”

   The old man repeated aloud, in measured tones, “I believe that Jesus died
   for ME. Oh, glory to God! I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I’ve got it.”

   Here Mr. Redfield saw demonstrated that one act of faith would do what
   twenty years of praying had failed to do.

   In another place, that season, he attended a holiness meeting held in a
   private house, where a room overhead was occupied by a gentleman boarder,
   whose strange conduct is recorded below. God graciously manifested himself
   in the meeting and several were sanctified, and a number more converted. In
   the midst of it, the man overhead began to rave like a madman. He came down
   into the hall, and began to howl and bark and growl like a dog, and that so
   rapidly and violently that it sounded as though a number of dogs were
   fighting there. He then burst in the door, and when he saw Mr. Redfield, his
   eyes flashed, and he moved towards him as if to do him harm, and yet harmed
   him not. At last he left the room. The next day the man of the house asked
   him why he could disturb a religious meeting like that.

   “Sir,” said he, “I do not wish to do such things, but I cannot help it. I
   know that I am forever lost; I have known this for years. Ever since the
   time when I was forsaken of God, I cannot endure the sound of prayer or of
   religious song. It completely unmans me.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 35

   As winter approached Mr. Redfield was invited to return to Stamford to one
   of the forsaken churches in that place. The condition of Methodism in the
   vicinity may be seen from the following facts. Three miles away was a church
   which had not been occupied for three years; one and a-half miles away was
   one to be closed the following spring; two miles in another direction was
   one that had been unoccupied for many years.

   The pastor who had invited Mr. Redfield was a devoted man, but poorly
   adapted to resurrect a dead church. Under the strong truths preached by Mr.
   Redfield a general awakening was coining on, when other Methodist societies
   in the vicinity opposed to the resuscitation of this one, forced the
   meetings to close. The African Methodists then opened their doors, and the
   revival went to them. Here God wrought mightily, and some of the most
   wealthy and influential people of the city came to the altar and were saved;
   some of them that the deadness which had reigned in the churches had well
   nigh made infidels. Among themselves they started a subscription to build a
   new church, and desired Mr. Redfield to become their pastor. He consulted
   his presiding elder, who advised against it, and the matter was dropped.

   He was now having all the calls he could fill; and to have accepted that
   proposition would have turned him aside from his peculiar mission. He had
   many friends among the more spiritual of the ministry, who would have called
   in question the propriety of such a step; and the step once taken, might
   have involved him in circumstances such as would have rendered it impossible
   to retrace it.

   Before leaving Stamford, he went with the pastor to hold one more service in
   the old church that had been closed so long. During the service he observed
   a young man in the congregation who seemed deeply interested and who closely
   watched everything that was said and done. When the invitation was given for
   seekers of sanctification, he came forward boldly. He was a Methodist
   preacher, and after the service closed he invited Mr. Redfield to go to his
   charge five miles away to labor with him for a season. He said the church
   was not inclined to receive him when he was appointed the spring previous;
   but after pleading with them for some time, they yielded, and let him stay.
   He now desired Mr. Redfield to go with him to assist in a revival meeting.
   The following conversation then passed between them.

   “Now will you go?” said the young preacher.

   “Do you believe in the doctrine of sanctification as held by the
   Methodists?” inquired Mr. Redfield.

   “I do,” was the ready answer.

   “Do you enjoy it?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “I do not,” the preacher answered.

   “Will you seek it with all your heart until you find it?” further inquired
   Mr. Redfield.

   “I will,” was the immediate reply.

   “But let me tell you what may be the consequences of your taking this
   stand,” said Mr. Redfield. “If you obtain this experience and preach it, you
   will have a living, active church, and sinners will be converted in great
   numbers. They will be converted so they will know it in power. Then perhaps
   when conference comes, some one else will be appointed to the charge. And
   the membership and converts may injudiciously speak in great love of
   yourself as their former pastor; and if the new preacher has not the grace
   to endure it, he may become jealous, and will speak lightly of you to the
   other preachers; and by impressing the conference that you are an unsafe
   man, and poorly calculated to keep up the dignity of Methodism, as a result
   you may find yourself crowded out of the best paying appointments, and on to
   frontier work. Now, if you thus lose caste and standing among the preachers,
   and have to go on alone, unappreciated, will you seek for this experience,
   and preach it to your people? Can you afford to wait for the great day of
   judgment to adjust all these matters?”

   With great emphasis, the young preacher replied, “I will accept the
   conditions.”

   “Very good,” said Mr. Redfield, “I will go to your place: and further, if
   ever you get into a hard spot, because you take the honorable course for
   God, just let me know, and I will come to your help.”

   Mr. Redfield went to the aid of this young preacher, and found the utmost
   freedom “to go the straight way for God and the exact right.” At the close
   of the first sermon, the young minister took his stand as he had promised.
   He said:

   “It may seem strange to my congregation that I have never preached this
   doctrine to you. But as an honest man I could not preach to you what I did
   not enjoy as an experience. When I joined the conference, I told the bishop
   and the preachers that I believed in this doctrine, and would seek it. And
   now, ask you to forgive me for not having done it before; and I also ask you
   to come forward and pray for me.”

   He then knelt at the altar, and the members of his church around him. The
   power of God fell upon them in a wonderful manner. The work of God began
   with unusual power, and soon the entire community was deeply moved.
   Skeptics, who had not entered a church for twenty years, were convicted,
   until unable to leave their homes.

   The place of worship stood on a corner where five streets came together, and
   was the scene of glorious things. Sometimes the saved, as they returned to
   their homes, made the night air ring with their shouts.

   This young minister, soon after, thought it best to take a transfer to a
   Western conference. We will not consider his case further at present, but
   shall hear from him again.

   Mr. Redfield was now called to go to the aid of a conference preacher who
   had made himself offensive by his plainness. He had been appointed to a
   village that could boast of, a tavern, two churches, one blacksmith shop,
   and four or five painted houses. But the people rebelled at the
   “imposition,” as they called it, of having a preacher appointed to them, who
   was so far behind the times as to be opposed to worldly amusements. Mr.
   Redfield staid but a few days, as he could not discern that he would have
   any especial help from God in the work.

   A short time after he went to a camp meeting in Central New York. There he
   found strong opposition to the doctrine of holiness among the preachers.
   This was very painful to him, and aroused his fears for the future of the
   doctrine and the church. One preacher, in a sermon, opposed the doctrine as
   taught by the early Methodists. In the midst of his argument against it, one
   of the preachers in the stand quoted two or three passages from the Bible
   that upheld the doctrine, but was told by the presiding elder to “stop”;
   yet, this elder had no rebuke for the man who was antagonizing Wesley,
   Clarke, Watson, and other standard authors in the church. This sermon threw
   the people into great confusion, and many of them left the congregation,
   thinking to strike their tents and go home. Mr. Redfield and others went to
   them and endeavored to dissuade them from this, while the elder, seeing the
   disaster the sermon was bringing upon the meeting, required the minister to
   stop. Rev. Hiram Mattison, who at this time was the leader of this
   opposition to the doctrine of holiness, was present, and attempted to allay
   the excitement by speaking somewhat as follows:

   “The doctrine of sanctification is true and good. There are various opinions
   in regard to some of the details of it. I can best express mine by using an
   illustration: On an orange tree you will find blossoms and green fruit and
   ripe fruit. My experience is similar to that. When I was converted I was
   partially sanctified. When I joined the church I was a little more
   sanctified. When I took a license to preach I was still a little more
   sanctified. And so you see we are more and more sanctified as we pass along;
   and the way to become sanctified is to progress in the divine life.”

   He said much more, but this was the substance of it all. This made the
   matter no better with the dissatisfied brethren. Brother Purdy was present,
   and in his inimitable manner tried his hand upon the storm. He prepared a
   place for a prayer meeting in an unoccupied part of the ground and called
   the people together. He then said: “I think it will be well to take the
   testimony of the people upon this question. Now, how many of this company
   know, by a heartfelt experience, that entire sanctification is distinct from
   justification and regeneration, and that it is received instantaneously by
   faith? Arise and stand upon your feet.” About three hundred arose. “Now,”
   said he, “let all those who know they have experienced it, but received it
   gradually, and not instantaneously.” Not one arose.

   This was thought by the opposition to be a very unfair proceeding; and yet
   they saw nothing wrong in staying in the church and openly opposing one of
   its fundamental doctrines.

   The following are some of Mr. Redfield’s reflections in regard to the
   matter:

   I could but think, when a preacher, in a place like this, will be allowed to
   attack one of the fundamental doctrines of the church, and receive
   encouragement from the presiding elder, we are in a very bad state.
   Methodism must come to an end, or another people be raised up to carry on
   the work. But I shall probably be numbered with the dead when that day
   arrives. God helping, I will do all I can to save what spirituality remains,
   to check the waning of its power, and to keep it as efficient as possible
   while I live.”

   These circumstances led him to see the necessity of a greater degree of
   spiritual power than he had ever known, that he might be more efficient in
   the Master’s service.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 36

   At the close of the camp meeting mentioned in the last chapter, Mr. Redfield
   went to Syracuse, N. Y., in company with a Brother Hicks and wife. While
   tarrying there for a few days, he attended a prayer meeting with them at the
   church where they belonged. On leaving the church there came to him his old
   sign which had always tokened to him a great outpouring of the Spirit. He
   said to Brother Hicks, “I tell you God is going to visit this city in awful
   and glorious power.”

   “Yes,” said Brother Hicks, “I believe it. A goodly number of us have been
   praying for it, and we feel that he has answered our prayers; and now we are
   looking for it.”

   These friends were desirous that Mr. Redfield should come and lead a revival
   meeting, but were fearful that their pastor would be unwilling, as he had
   not manifested any sympathy with the doctrine of holiness. Mr. Redfield had
   never before received this peculiar token of a revival except when he was to
   be an active laborer in it; and as yet there was no indication that he would
   be connected with this. So without waiting further he started for his home
   in New York city. But before a great while he received a letter from a
   preacher stationed at Salina, now a suburb of Syracuse, requesting his
   services. He accepted the call as a possible step towards Syracuse.

   On his way while traveling up the Hudson river on a night boat, he began to
   have a wonderful manifestation. The especial impression was of the presence
   of the heavenly host; and its effect was to comfort, cheer and strengthen
   him. This lasted all through the journey. He seemed rapt in a contemplation
   of God, and the work of God, such as no words could express.

   As he approached Syracuse, there came to him again the same token of the
   coming revival. He reached the city, and went to the house of Brother Hicks.
   Here he took courage again, for this man could appreciate the strongest type
   of salvation. His house was like the temple of God, where the altar fires
   were constantly burning. It was a sanctuary for the oppressed and the
   persecuted. For years one could not enter it often without finding there
   some one who had made it a refuge. Seasons of prayer there often lasted all
   night, and sometimes complaints of this were made to the magistrates.

   Brother Hicks took Mr. Redfield to the home of the minister he was to
   assist; and on crossing the bridge that lies between the two towns, the old
   token appeared again, but this time, it stood over the place to which he was
   going. When he reached the minister’s house, he found him in very poor
   health. The state of religion was such, that because of a small amount of
   indebtedness on the church property it was about to be sold. The society had
   about concluded to dismiss their preacher, because of the lack of funds to
   pay him. There could be no possible objections to Mr. Redfield’s labors in
   such a place. For some time he had found that ministers were perfectly
   willing that he should work in such places, and that with the greatest
   freedom, for he could not possibly make things any worse.

   He also found that this place had been overrun with mesmerism, spiritism,
   and finally unionism; that is, the discarding of all denominational
   distinctions. The next step was to Unitarianism.

   There was a fear upon the part of good people that if a revival should take
   on the old-fashioned type that characterized early Methodism, it would be
   called spiritism, or mesmerism, or something else besides real religion. His
   reply to them was, “I believe that the old gospel has as much power today as
   it ever had, and that God will come to our rescue; and if men try to imitate
   the work, as in the days of Moses, the rod of Jehovah will swallow up their
   rods, and they will be obliged to confess the true God.”

   The revival had not been in progress long before a good woman from another
   town felt constrained to come to see Mr. Redfield. She came to the house
   where he was stopping, was introduced, and when about to shake hands, she
   gave two piercing screams, so sudden as to startle him. He had never heard
   anything like them before, and knew not what to make of them. He thought it
   best to wait until he had an opportunity to investigate them before he
   allowed himself to be disturbed with them. When meeting time came he started
   for the church, and this woman with some friends followed. Occasionally he
   would hear her give the same two peculiar screams as they came along the
   walk. When he had reached the pulpit and turned about, he saw her coming in
   at the door, holding her hands over her mouth. She came up near the pulpit,
   and as she turned to enter a pew she gave the same two screams again, so
   loud as to shock all in the house, and then clapped her hands over her face
   and appeared greatly mortified; but, evidently, could not control her voice.

   In a subsequent conversation with her upon the subject, she told him the
   history of this strange phenomenon. She said, “Once while conversing with an
   honorable gentleman, a member of the Methodist Church, he complimented me
   upon the quiet and unostentatious character of my piety. I replied, “It is a
   source of gratification to me that I am not as demonstrative as some.”
   Instantly a power seized me that I could not resist, and I uttered those two
   screams. Since then I have found it in vain to resist when that power is
   upon me.”

   As soon as Mr. Redfield could get the attention of the congregation, he
   began the service. But often during the evening she gave those two peculiar
   screams. The curiosity of the people was aroused to know what it could mean;
   yet when the invitation was given for seekers of holiness, the altar was
   crowded with them. The prayer meeting began, and in a few minutes a seeker
   at the altar screamed in like manner; and then another, and another.
   Finally, one woman’s scream was entirely different from the rest. It sounded
   as you would imagine a woman would scream if a knife was suddenly and
   unexpectedly thrust through her heart. A sister of hers came, took hold of
   her, and shook her, commanding her to stop; but it was all in vain. Some six
   or eight were exercised in that manner during the altar service.

   In the midst of this, Mr. Purdy, who was assisting in the meeting, asked, -

   “Don’t you think you had better check it?”

   “I do not yet. If God makes the duty plain I will; but not till then.”

   “Well, what do you make of it?”

   “I don’t know. But I shall not wonder if God is preparing to meet and
   overcome the magicians in this town. You perceive no one can possibly make
   such a sound of themselves. Besides, there is no fear of hypocrites
   attempting it, for it is too humiliating.”

   The service closed, and Mr. Redfield returned to his boarding place.

   The sister of the lady of the house was stopping there also, and she was one
   of those who had been so strangely exercised. Mr. Redfield now thought he
   would have a good opportunity to study the phenomena. This woman was about
   thirty years of age, and married. She, as well as all the rest of those so
   exercised, was of good report and good standing in society. Before retiring
   for the night the entire company knelt in prayer. She commenced those
   screams again, and continued them for about five minutes with a rapidity
   that he believed no one could imitate. After rising from prayer, all retired
   for the night. In the morning Mr. Redfield had an opportunity to talk with
   her in regard to the exercises of the evening before. She appeared very
   solemn when she came into the room, and immediately, in a subdued tone of
   voice, and in humbleness of manner, asked him:

   “Can you tell me what this means? When I went to bed last night it all
   stopped, but commenced again when I arose this morning. You know what a
   spell I had at family prayer last night. Well, I thought I saw my dead
   sister who passed away triumphantly a few years ago. I also seemed to see my
   father’s house, and my mother very sick; and that they want me to come
   home.”

   Her sister, the lady of the house, then came into the room, and asked, “What
   do you make of this?”

   He replied: “I cannot tell; and yet my opinion is, that it is something God
   has sent, or permitted, to put cavilers to silence.”

   “Do you think it would be right for me to pray the Lord to stop it?” she
   asked.

   “I do not, sister. My impression is, that you should not court it, nor fight
   it. Let it alone; seek only to be right with God, and if it is allowed to
   come, then there is an object it will serve. Let it come, or go, upon
   you.”

   “Oh, I would not have it come upon me for ten thousand worlds.”

   With a scream, her sister replied, “It will come upon you.”’

   At that she began to tremble, and sat down. She was holding a wash bowl and
   pitcher in her hands, and so violently was she shaken that Mr. Redfield
   feared they would be broken, and he took them from her. At this, with a
   shriek louder than any he had yet heard, she was thrown upon the floor, and
   then, as if seized by a giant power, she was lifted up and taken into
   another room. This was attended with those screams, or rather those
   movements attended the screams, for the screams came first. After a little
   she was able to converse.

   “Well, what do you think now?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “Oh,” said she, “I would not have the in taken from me for ten thousand
   worlds.”

   “Are you in pain when you scream?”

   “I was at first, but soon it was the joy that filled me. It was beyond
   anything I ever dreamed could be this side of heaven.”

   “Is it because you feel such joy that you put forth an effort to scream;
   that is, is the scream the result of your effort?”

   “Oh, no! I put forth no effort at all. But a power seems to take hold of me,
   and I am compelled to scream. I cannot resist it.”

   Of all the other cases which he examined, and there were a large number of
   them, some of screaming, some of jumping, and others of a kind of dancing,
   in every case they testified the same; that is, it was produced by an unseen
   power, unexplainable by them, that took hold of them, and over which they
   had no control. In one case, the woman prayed that it might leave, and it
   did leave; but she was instantly in an agony of despair, and found no rest
   until she prayed for its return. Another had a similar experience.

   In the case of the first one he examined, who seemed to have the vision of
   her father’s house and the sickness of her mother, in a few hours after her
   statement to Mr. Redfield, she received a letter by mail, in which the
   foregoing was corroborated.

   Whatever the reader may think of these incidents, if candid, he must admit
   the wisdom of Mr. Redfield’s advice: “They are not to be courted, or
   fought.” Since that day there has been much of such demonstrations. Some of
   the best of Christians, persons of clear understanding, and of pure lives,
   have had them. It is also true, that many of inconsistent, and in some cases
   of impure lives, have had them.

   Usually where there has been extreme encouragement of them, it has resulted
   in mischief. The same may be said where there has been determined opposition
   to them. Those who have neither courted nor fought them have got along with
   them the best. It has been demonstrated, — beyond all doubt, in the minds of
   the observing, — that they are not infallible marks of piety. Another thing
   is also true, — as yet mankind knows but little of mental science, and
   probably many of the strange phenomena of mental operation are yet to be
   explained.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 37

   When Mr. Redfield began his work at Salina, as usual he tried the best he
   was able to set forth the standard of holiness in view of having “something
   to work up to,” as he expressed it. He pressed the people to seek this
   experience. Many came forward for that purpose, but were unsuccessful in
   seeking it. He then made the discovery, after careful examination, that the
   mass of them were backslidden from God. So he publicly confessed his mistake
   in preaching holiness to them, when they needed justification. He then
   attempted to impress the truths related to that phase of religious
   experience. But again they were brought to a stand. More thorough searching,
   and humbling themselves before God, and it was discovered that the mass of
   the people in the religious confusion that had reigned, had fallen below
   even morality. So he confessed his mistake again, and began preaching to
   them the first principles of the kingdom of God.

   He now began to have some of his own peculiar experiences again, that had
   often attended his most successful efforts. He began to be “burdened” for
   the work. He had often had these struggles, and sometimes with a severity
   that threw him upon his bed as if with a fit of sickness, and held him there
   until victory came. One night in the church he was filled with unspeakable
   agony for souls. If h could have howled like the old prophets, it would have
   relieved him; but this he could not do. He thought he could not endure it.
   He attempted to go out of the church, but was checked by the Holy Spirit. He
   then said, “Lord, I’ll try to hold on.” He then began to cry out, “O my God,
   this people must be saved.” At this he was instantly relieved. The whole
   church was now in commotion. Screams for mercy mingled with shouts of
   rejoicing were heard on every side. At this time commenced the strange
   demonstrations described in the preceding chapter.

   When the revival was fully under motion, and these demonstrations were
   becoming common, then the curious began to come to witness the strange
   sights. One night several came near the altar and asked permission to
   observe them closely. It was given them, and soon they began to make remarks
   as follows:

   “It is nothing but hysterics.”

   “Do you understand physiology?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “Yes, well enough to know this is nothing but hysterics.”

   “Are people usually happy when they have hysterics?”

   They did not answer.

   Another said: “It’s nothing but psychology.”

   Another said: “It’s spiritualism.”

   Another said: “It is easy enough to produce it all.”

   Mr. Redfield was afterwards told that some of these men held meetings in
   which they tried to imitate these phenomena, but failed. They then declared
   it to be supernatural. Many of these men were soon after converted to God.

   The experience of a Unitarian woman well illustrates the thoroughness of Mr.
   Redfield’s methods. She was of high standing in the community because of her
   wealth and benevolence. In years past she had been an active member of an
   orthodox church, and none had been more deeply engaged in revival work than
   she. Of late she had pretended not to believe in anything of that kind. God
   now got hold of her by his truth. When she came forward some of the more
   worldly of the Methodists seemed much elated. The expression on their faces
   seemed to say, “Now, she will give our church character, and we’ll be
   thought something of.” Mr. Redfield thought he detected this, and resolved
   that she should go through it if it was possible. He knelt near her and
   asked her loud enough for all to hear it, “Madam, what is your wish in
   coming to the altar?”

   “I want religion.”

   “Then pray right out loud for salvation.”

   “Oh,” said she, “I cannot pray for myself.”

   “Well, then, I cannot pray for you.”

   “Why, I have said I would go to hell before I’d ever pray in such a place as
   this.”

   Raising his voice, he repeated her words, and then said, “Madam, you will
   either take that back, or you will go to hell. You need not think of
   succeeding in your rebellion against God.”

   “Do you think there is any mercy for me?” she inquired.

   “I don’t know,” he replied, “your case is a hard one, and it maybe you have
   already passed beyond the limits of mercy; but I would try to pray.”

   “Well, I’ll try.”

   “But will you pray in your family?”

   “Oh,” said she, “I have said I’d sooner be damned than pray before my
   husband.”

   “Well,” said he, “you’ll take that back, or be lost forever.”

   “Well, I will,” she replied.

   “But you have exerted an influence against God and Christ among the
   Unitarians; now will you go to them and confess this, and cut your
   acquaintance with them, and tell them why you do it?”

   This was a hard task, but after being shown that her course had been one of
   hostility to God and the right, and if she desired to make clean work, she
   must now do this, at last, she said,

   “I will do it.”

   “One thing more. Will you exhort them to seek Jesus, and then pray with them
   before you leave them?”

   Some may think this was carrying the matter too far, and she felt it was a
   hard thing for her to do. But Mr. Redfield thought it a wicked thing for a
   woman in high position to use her influence against Jesus of Nazareth, so he
   insisted upon her making the thing right with God and man.

   “Well, I will,” said she, at last.

   She then turned and asked one to pray for her, of whom she had said, “I
   never want him to pray for me.” The moment she made this request she fell
   helpless to the floor. She was truly saved, and did her duty faithfully, and
   God was with her in power.

   One of the Unitarian ministers came to him one day for a talk. After a
   formal introduction, he said:

   “I am happy to make your acquaintance. I have attended some of your
   meetings, and I desire to say to you, that I extend to you the right hand of
   fellowship. But I think you might adopt one suggestion I will make, and that
   to your advantage.”

   “What is that, sir?” inquired Mr. Redfield.

   “Let us win our way to the hearts of sinners by showing Christian love among
   ourselves. Just let them see how our religion unites us all together, and
   this will recommend the benign religion of our Saviour.”

   “But how far would you have me go with this?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “All who even take the name of Christian, are entitled to our charity and
   brotherly love.”

   “But suppose a man tells me there is no more virtue in the blood of Jesus
   than in the blood of a hog?” (This had been preached in this man’s pulpit,
   unrebuked.)

   “Well, it will do no good to hold a man off and deny him your charity for
   opinion’s sake.”

   “Further” said Mr. Redfield, “suppose he tells me he does not believe in
   God, nor heaven, nor hell, nor Christ, nor a future state

   “Well, it is a free country, and any one has a right to believe what he
   pleases; and we can do no good to a man by prescribing what he shall believe
   as a condition to his receiving our charity.”

   At this Mr. Redfield said: “Let us pray,” and kneeling down, prayed for his
   visitor as a poor, deluded man.

   At the afternoon service this man was present. After a time he arose and
   said:

   “I desire to say here, to this church, that I feel a great interest in these
   meetings. They meet with my hearty approval.”

   When he sat down, Mr. Redfield arose, and said: “I want this congregation to
   understand that, as a church, we have no fellowship with infidels or
   atheists. And I know this man to be such from conversation with him today.
   God calls upon us and angels, to worship Christ, — to worship Jesus.”

   Instantly the power of God seemed to fill the whole house.

   These services continued a short time longer. The church edifice was saved,
   the debt paid off, the minister received back for another year, and well
   provided for; there was a large addition to the membership, a good parsonage
   built, a second church built near by to accommodate the congregation, and
   that all paid for, and the whole within a few months, as the fruit of this
   revival meeting.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 38

   Mr. Redfield now went back to the city of Syracuse to see if he could find
   an opportunity to labor there. He went to the house of Brother Hicks, and
   sent for the preacher in charge. When he arrived, Mr. Redfield immediately
   stated his reasons for sending for him.

   He said: “For the first time in my experience, I ask for an opportunity to
   come here and hold a revival meeting. I am a Methodist; and I have had a
   wonderful experience with regard to this matter; and I am sure God has
   designs of great mercy for this city; and from my feelings, I think he
   designs that I shall be identified with it. Now, I desire to know if you
   will allow me to hold a meeting in your church?”

   “Oh,” said he, “if God designs you to hold a meeting in this place he will
   open the way for you.”

   “But will you allow me to hold a meeting in your church?”

   “It will cost too much for expenses.”

   “I have anticipated that objection, and I have brought money enough with me
   to pay expenses for a few months; and I will labor free of charge if you
   will allow me to come into your church and hold a meeting.”

   “Well, you cannot be allowed to come into my church.”

   “Then, brother, you will not feel afflicted if a way should open in some
   other denomination for me to labor here.”

   “Of course not,” he replied, with an expression on his face that indicated
   his doubts of that ever coming to pass.

   The next mail brought to Mr. Redfield a request to come to Palmyra, the home
   of his friend, Fay H. Purdy, to hold a meeting. In response to this, he took
   the cars for that place. As he drew near, his old sign of coming victory
   made its appearance again. He had no knowledge of the place, not even its
   exact location. When he arrived at the station where he was to leave the
   cars, he found himself about nine miles away, and that the public conveyance
   was a stage. While waiting, a gentleman approached him with the question:
   “Will a ride in a private conveyance, at the same price, be agreeable?”

   “Yes, sir; and much preferable,” Mr. Redfield replied.

   As soon as he was seated, and on the way, the following conversation took
   place:

   “Do you live in Palmyra?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “Yes, sir.”

   “Do you know a man by the name of Purdy?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “What of him? I hear a great many things about him. What is he?”

   “Oh, the man is in bad repute among the people where “he is best known.”

   “He is a Methodist, and labors in revival meetings I believe?” remarked Mr.
   Redfield.

   “Yes; but the people here have no confidence in him.”

   “He is, probably, a man who swears?” said Mr. Redfield, inquiringly.

   “Oh, no; I don’t think anybody would accuse him of that,”

   “Well, he probably lies?” Mr. Redfield continued.

   “Oh, no; not that either.”

   “Well, he must be a great cheat, — a dishonest man said Mr. Redfield, in the
   same inquiring tone.

   “Oh, no.”

   “Well, what is it?” he then asked.

   “I will tell you,” said the man. “I am a Methodist, but it is the world’s
   people who find fault with him.”

   “Well, what is it they have against him?”

   “The world says, “If he is so zealous for religion, why doesn’t he stay at
   home where his work is needed?”

   “You have a new preacher since conference, I believe?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “Well, how do you like him?”

   Oh, not at all.”

   “What is the matter with him?”

   “Why, he is too old, and he does not keep himself tidy. He is no honor to
   Methodism.”

   Said Mr. Redfield, sternly, “I know what the trouble is with you; you are
   all backslidden from God. I am going to the house of Brother Purdy.”

   When he arrived and had a proper opportunity, he asked Brother Purdy, “What
   is the matter with your new preacher?”

   “Well, I will tell you. He is a good man, but our church is backslidden and
   formal, and they think he is not up with the times. We have not had a
   revival in sixteen years. In spirituality the Congregationalists have far
   outstripped us. They have revivals, but we do not. Our church has been
   mortgaged, and the mortgage foreclosed, and it is to be sold in a short
   time. Spiritual worship “has been turned out of doors, and an organ has been
   put into the gallery to make up the deficiency, and to pander to the tastes
   of the world. The preacher was not received, and the elder has been
   denounced as a “pope,” because he will not remove him. The dandy preacher
   who was here before him, wore his gold spectacles, and carried a gold-headed
   cane, and acted the fop, and now the contrast is too great for them to
   abide. They have not paid the new preacher a cent, and say they will not. So
   I have given him a shelter, and am supplying his wants.”

   Mr. Redfield now understood the state of affairs, and looked to God for
   direction and help.

   He was now taken to the house that was to be his home during his stay. He
   had scarcely got to the room assigned him, when a Brother B_____ was brought
   in and introduced to him. Mr. Redfield found him to be a good man, who lived
   some seven miles away, and had come to spend the Sabbath in the meetings.

   The next morning Mr. Redfield arose early, and went down the stairs. Soon he
   heard Brother B_____ groaning loudly in the room adjoining, and a glance
   through the window revealed a large number of people standing on the walk
   who had been attracted by the noise. Mr. Redfield asked the family, “What
   does this all mean?”

   “Oh,” said one, “it is Brother B_____ at his devotions.”

   “What kind of a man and Christian is he?”

   “Oh, he is one of the very best of men. Everybody knows Brother B_____ to be
   an excellent Christian.”

   The preacher in charge was to preach that morning, and Mr. Redfield did not
   go to the church until time for the sermon. As he entered the church he
   heard quite a commotion in the basement; and on reaching the pulpit, the old
   minister said: “We have been having awful times down stairs this morning!”

   “What is the matter?” asked Mr. Redfield.

   “Oh, Brother B_____ fell to the floor, and made so much fuss that he scared
   the people till they ran out of the house. My wife is very angry about it.
   Hark! hear Brother B_____”

   And there came up from the basement a cry of anguish, and the words: “O God!
   I shall die if this church is not saved!”

   Said the preacher: “I think I had better go and lock him in a class-room.”

   “Brother,” said Mr. Redfield, “let him alone. The Spirit that would
   interfere with him, would drag Christ from the Garden of Gethsemane.”

   “But I am afraid he will come upstairs!”

   “Well, let him come.”

   “But he makes such an awful noise!”

   “Well, you need an awful noise. If you get salvation enough, you’ll get
   where you will be able to hear a hallelujah without fainting away.”

   “There he comes” said the preacher.

   “Well, let him come.”

   And sure enough he did come, and crying out in great agony as he came. As he
   reached the altar he fell to the floor, and Mr. Purdy cried out, “Amen!” at
   the top of his voice. One of the old members who sat near by asked in an
   angry voice, “What did you say amen for?”

   “Because I’m glad to see God get one more chance to breathe in this
   church.”

   “Well,” said the preacher, “I will go and put him into a pew.”

   He did so, but soon Brother B_____ rolled off onto the floor, and made more
   noise than ever.

   The old minister tried to preach, but the struggles and cries of Brother
   B_____ made it almost impossible for him to do so. When the sermon was
   ended, Mr. Redfield took occasion to endorse Brother B_____; and seeing the
   preacher was in great distress of mind over it, he thought it best to go
   home with him. When they arrived at the house they found one of the lady
   members almost in hysterics over the matter. The preacher tried to soothe
   her, but Mr. Redfield said to him, “Don’t smooth over the matter; she is
   fighting against God.” After a little she began to confess that she was not
   right. The preacher now declared his intention to send Brother B_____ home
   the next day.

   “Well, said Mr. Redfield, “then I’ll go, too.”

   “Oh, you must not go. We must have a revival or lose our church.”

   “I don’t care about your church. It would be no calamity to lose it,”
   replied Mr. Redfield. “They have managed to keep God out for sixteen years,
   and it is now ruled by the spirit of the world. The members are on the road
   to hell, and will get there if they don’t repent.”

   “But they will not pay me a cent of my claim, and want to drive me off; and
   I am dependent on Brother Purdy for shelter and for the necessaries of life;
   and the church is to be sold in a few weeks.”

   “Let it go; it’s a curse in its present condition.”

   “Well, don’t leave us, and I’ll let him stay.”

   “But, brother, there is another item I want in the conditions, and that is,
   if you believe that brother to be a good man, you must give him the right
   hand of fellowship. If you do not, you’ll have two parties in your church
   over this very matter. The people saw this morning that you were greatly
   tried with the good brother, and unless you settle the matter at once you
   will have sympathizers with you. Now, by prompt action on your part you can
   stop all that.”

   “Well,” said he, “don’t leave, and I’ll do it.”

   “Very well; do it tonight when I am through preaching.”

   When the time came he stood tip in the altar and confessed to the
   congregation, and to Brother B_____, how he had been tried, and turning to
   Brother B_____, said, “Brother B_____, I give you the right hand of
   fellowship, come into the altar;” and instantly he dropped to the floor. As
   soon as he could command himself, he said, “If I had given way to my
   feelings I should have made a great deal more noise than Brother B_____ did
   this morning. I have not had such a blessing in twenty-three years.”

   Now began the war. One infidel, a merchant, who paid ten dollars a year for
   a seat in the church, and did the same thing for a seat in another church,
   in great wrath arose and left the church. His wife pulled out the cushion
   and started after him; both declaring they would never have anything more to
   do with the Methodist Church. But this only created the more stir, and
   curiosity brought the people out from near and from far. The house became so
   crowded that it was necessary to have services both in the basement and in
   the upper room at the same time. One night there were thirty conversions,
   and more than five hundred were converted in a few weeks. The preacher was
   taken into favor and provided for, the liabilities against the property
   paid; and Methodism took hold anew in that community.
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 39

   Mr. Redfield now received a letter from the Congregational society of
   Syracuse, inviting him to hold a revival meeting in their church. He obeyed
   the call at once. When he arrived at Syracuse he went immediately to one of
   the deacons of the society to talk over the matter. He asked:

   “Is it true that your church wishes me, a Methodist, to hold a protracted
   meeting?”

   “Yes, sir,” said the deacon, “we passed such a resolution.”

   He then took Mr. Redfield to see one of the other deacons, who corroborated
   the statement of the first.

   “Well, deacon, how long since you had a revival in this city?”

   “Oh, we had a kind of a stir about fifteen years ago, but nothing to amount
   to much in twenty-five years.”

   “Have you put forth any effort?”

   “Oh, yes; we have had Finney, and Lovering and Knapp, but nothing scarcely
   was accomplished. There are now five churches in the city without pastors,
   and the place is given over to the Unitarians.”

   “Well, deacon, had you not better put that question to vote over again, that
   you may do this thing with your eyes open? I am sure the old gospel is as
   potent as ever. I can do nothing, but that can. You must prepare yourselves
   for a great conflict, and many things that will shock all your ideas of
   order and propriety. I will tell you what I’ll do: if any fighting or
   setting the church on fire takes place, I will do all I can to regulate
   that; but if God comes, — and that he will in awful power, — and the people
   shout or lose their strength, or anything else that God owns by working in
   the midst of it, you must not interfere.”

   One deacon said, “I have taken my stand, and I have no back tracks to
   make.”

   The other said, “The devil has had full swing for fifteen years, without let
   or hindrance, and I think it no more than right that God should be allowed
   to have one chance more.”

   “Very good,” said Mr. Red field, “I will go forward.

   He then went to see a Methodist preacher who lived not far away, and asked
   him to assist in the work, but he declined on account of poor health; but he
   felt there was no use of asking the one who had refused to allow him to work
   in his church, and who had so sneeringly said he had no objections to Mr.
   Redfield laboring in the city with other denominations. Yet this minister
   was soon active in circulating the report that Mr. Redfield was making war
   on Methodism.

   Mr. Redfield had preached but a few times, when in one of the afternoon
   meetings, one deacon arose and vehemently protested against the
   Congregational church being used to make the people confess.

   Mr. Redfield replied, that he had been invited with the understanding that
   he should not be trammeled in his measures; that he labored for nothing, and
   other churches were calling for him, and that he had no time to spend in
   contention. He then said, “I want to know if I am to be allowed to go
   forward or not.” A vote was taken which resulted in his favor, and the
   deacon was quieted. The meetings went on a few days more, and the deacon
   could endure it no longer; and he became very bitter and violent in his
   remarks. Again the vote was taken and again the deacon was voted down. In a
   few days more he arose in a meeting all broken in spirit, and made a most
   startling confession to the church and congregation.

   The Spirit was now being poured out in great power. Two Presbyterian elders
   fell under the power one night. While they lay there a deacon approached Mr.
   Redfield and said, “You Methodists get greatly excited.”

   Mr. Redfield replied, “Do you know that man crying over there?” “No!” “Well,
   that is a Presbyterian elder.”

   “What! can that be possible?” he asked.

   “Yes, sir;” said Mr. Redfield, “and you all have Methodist hearts, and if
   you would give God a chance at you, he would do the same things with you.”

   Among the confessions made was one by a young lady, who said, “I have been a
   member of the Methodist Church for ten years, but have been deceived all
   this time. I never knew until now what religion was. But I know it now.”

   A Unitarian lady, who came to the meetings, she said, to prevent a friend of
   hers from going forward, when returning home the same night, fell while
   passing the Unitarian church, and cried out in great agony for mercy.
   Several persons who heard her, guided to her through the darkness by her
   voice, went to her assistance. The first words she spoke to them were, “Can
   any of you pray?” They took her to her own home, and one of them who had a
   religious friend, went for that friend to come and pray, but the friend was
   backslidden from God, and was obliged to become a seeker first, before he
   could aid her; and both were saved that night.

   So great was the religious interest, and the danger to the Unitarians, that
   they sent to Boston for Theodore Parker to preach in their church for a
   season. He came, and flaming handbills were posted through the city
   announcing his arrival, and the themes of his discourses. But a violent
   storm which swept over the city a few days after he came so damaged their
   church that he returned to Boston.

   Some of the fruit of this revival still remains. In after years, in the
   West, Mr. Redfield was welcomed and cheered by the faithful ones who in this
   revival were brought into the light. Rev. M. V. Clute, of the Illinois
   Conference of the Free Methodist Church, has given me the following
   incident: “I was a lay member of the Congregationalist Church in a
   neighboring town. During the time of Mr. Redfield’s labor in Syracuse I
   visited my brother in that city. While at supper the first evening, I was
   asked to go and hear him. When we arrived at the church we found the seats
   near the door occupied, and were obliged to take one near the pulpit. In a
   very short time the house was crowded; those who filled the aisles stood,
   while those between the seats and the pulpit sat on the floor. He had been
   preaching but a few minutes when the heavy breathing of a person attracted
   my attention. For some time I could not make out who it was, when at last a
   man sitting on the floor threw up his hands, and exclaimed in a loud voice,
   “O God!” The next moment he sprang to his feet, and with arms extended,
   started down one of the aisles toward the door, groaning as he went. The
   people made way for him, and he crossed behind the body seats and returned
   up the other aisle. As he reached the pulpit, he screamed and fell to the
   floor. During the time Mr. Redfield, in perfect silence, stood leaning on
   the pulpit watching him with great interest. For a few moments after he fell
   there was perfect quiet throughout the room, when suddenly from eighteen to
   twenty persons sprang to their feet and ran, praying, to the altar.”
     _________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 40

   Mr. Redfield was now invited to Albion, N. Y., by Rev. W. C. Kendall, of
   blessed memory. Mr. Kendall was a minister of more than ordinary ability,
   and of deepest piety. He was noted for his faithfulness as a pastor and
   preacher. He had been well received in Albion at first, but when it was
   found impossible to get him to moderate his zeal, to lower the standard of
   piety, or to cease insisting upon the membership living up to the rules of
   the church, some of the most influential members turned against him. He
   commenced revival meetings amid great opposition, and finally sent for Mr.
   Redfield.

   Mr. Redfield was well received at first, and soon conviction became general.
   At last the power of God began to come, and one night two or three fell. One
   was a Baptist. This frightened the people, and many hurried out of the
   house. Some ran for water to resuscitate the prostrate ones, while others
   broke window-lights to let in fresh air. Now some cried out that Mr.
   Redfield had mesmerized these people, until many in the church became
   alarmed and others angry. Then persons began to lose their strength at home,
   and some even miles away. It was well for the revival that Mr. Kendall was
   preacher in charge, for he was in full sympathy with Mr. Redfield, and gave
   him complete control of the services. In meeting and breaking through
   opposition, he was one of the most successful of evangelists. If permitted
   to act freely he scarcely ever failed to succeed. He now had the utmost
   freedom, and soon the tide of conviction rose above all opposition. The
   scenes of power in the services and in the homes of the people were
   marvelous. In the midst of this the following incident took place.

   Rev. J. M. F, a former pastor of the church, was overheard to make the
   remark, in the Methodist Book Room, in Buffalo, that “Kendall has got
   Redfield to help him in a revival at Albion, and I must go down and attend
   to matters there.” The word was brought to Albion by Rev. Brother T, who
   heard J. M. F say it. This brother related the matter at Mr. Kendall’s
   tea-table. With a look of serious alarm, not easily forgotten, Mr. Redfield
   turned to Mr. Kendall, and said: “It is my request that you do not ask Mr. F
   into the pulpit, if he attends the services. It is obvious that his errand
   here is to guard his friends against my peculiar teachings, and for him to
   sit with me in the pulpit is to pretend to be my friend. God cannot endorse
   such a two-faced act; and my soul abhors such hypocrisy. If you wart God to
   help me to preach tonight, see that you do not ask that man to take any part
   in the service.”

   Mr. Kendall, after a few moments thought, replied, “I do not think I could
   ask him, no matter what the consequences may be.” [3]

   Mr. Redfield’s description of his feelings and motives will give a view of
   his character, and a clue to his wondrous power.

   “This man (J. M. F.) came into one of the afternoon meetings, and knowing
   what his object was in coming to Albion, I was overcome with grief. I went
   up into the pulpit, and got down out of sight and prayed, “O my God, why
   hast thou sent me out at the loss and cost of all things, and then allowed
   such men to make my way so hard? He lives on the fat of the land; is
   pampered with a large salary, while I go unpaid, meet the brunt of battle,
   and have to fight the devil, the world, and a dead church, and preachers
   besides.” I felt as though my case was too hard. My bursting heart was so
   full that I put both hands upon m mouth to keep from bellowing aloud. And I
   said, “O, Lord, I can go no further!” Then the old voice rang again in my
   ears, “You may live while you preach and no longer.” Oh, how I wished these
   ambitious, wicked men could have seen how God had to push and crowd me out
   against their opposition. But as usual, I had at last to come to the point
   where I could say, “I have not yet resisted unto blood striving against sin.
   It will not be long before I will be called away, and I’ll let God settle
   all this.” I saw somebody must stand up for God and the right, and it may as
   well be me as any one.”

   In the evening, as the congregation were seated after singing the second
   hymn, the house being very crowded, this man entered and made his way down
   to the altar. He looked up into the pulpit, and, as he was not invited to
   enter that, he seemed embarrassed, his face reddened, a pew door opened, and
   he was provided with a seat. That night Mr. Redfield preached one of his
   most awful sermons, from the text: “And for this cause shall God send them
   strong delusions, that they should believe a lie that they all might be
   damned, who believe not the truth, but have pleasure in unrighteousness.”
   — 2 Thess. 2: 11, 12. Those only who have heard him can imagine the pictures
   he drew of those who had lived in the church for years without saving grace;
   who had sat under the most searching gospel ministry; had seen the truth
   exemplified in the lives of some around them; and yet closed their eyes and
   ears to it all, rather than pay the price and humble themselves by
   repentance and confession, and take the way of self-denial and the cross of
   Christ. He then outlined the track of those minister’s who have managed for
   years to preach without the Spirit, and have learned to lie to the people by
   telling them the way was not so narrow after all. They had become such
   adepts in lying that they preached and seemed to believe that we have “peace
   in Christ, and joy in the world,” in common with all men (a doctrine this
   very man had preached). They lived for money, and had found that some
   churches would pay the best to the man who would preach to them such stuff.
   And no wonder they were in trouble, when a man came along who would preach
   the whole truth, and plainly point out that the wrath of Almighty God was
   upon sin and sinners in the church.

   The effect of this sermon was electric. The Holy Ghost so attended it, that
   members of other churches were shaken as by a whirlwind. Some cried out,
   some fell prostrate before they could get to the altar, and others fell at
   the altar. That night and the night following, the prostrated ones lay in
   some places upon one another, until the aisles were closed for hours and the
   congregation literally hemmed in.

   The minister referred to, fled as if in consternation, as soon as he could
   make his escape. Before he left the place, by the circulation of slanders
   against Mr. Redfield, he alienated many of the members of the church, who
   finally withdrew from the meetings, and at last became bitter opposers of
   the work. Among those whom he attempted to influence was an ex-senator. This
   brother came to Mr. Kendall to labor with him, when the following
   conversation took place:

   “I feel very much grieved and tried with you. You preach to us that we
   should treat each other with Christian courtesy, yet you have not invited
   Brother F_____ to preach since he has been here, and he feels very much hurt
   over it.”

   “Well, Brother H_____,” replied Mr. Kendall, “I can now say to you what I
   could not have said before in regard to that: and I’ll ask you, How could I
   invite him to preach or take part in the meetings when I knew he had come
   here to put a stop to them?”

   “What do you mean?” asked Brother H_____.

   “I mean just what I say.”

   “How do you know that he came here for that purpose?”

   “Brother T_____ came to me and informed me that he heard Mr. F_____ say,
   before he came here, ‘Kendall is holding revival meetings at Albion, and has
   Redfield to assist him, and I must go down and stop him.’ “

   “Is that so?” asked Mr. H_____.

   “It is even so,” replied Mr. Kendall.

   Mr. H_____ went home and found Mr. F_____ there; and said to him, “I am
   greatly astonished to learn that your business here at this time was to stop
   this revival; and more, that you should claim to feel grieved because you
   were not invited to preach!”

   “It is all a lie,” said Mr. F, “let who will say so. I never intimated any
   purpose of that kind.”

   “It is true, sir,” said the minister who brought the report, and who
   happened to be present. “I heard you say it before you left Buffalo.”

   In this instance this opposer’s efforts were a failure. If the same could be
   said of all his efforts to oppose the work of holiness, different results
   would have occurred in many instances. Mr. Redfield told the congregation,
   that observation for some years, had taught him that any person who passed
   through a genuine revival without yielding to the truth of God, became from
   that time a standing committee to fight God and holiness. This proved true
   of many in the place. They became the persecutors of those who undertook to
   follow God fully. The minister who came to Albion to oppose the meetings
   became a bitter persecutor of holiness teachers in the ministry, and has
   claimed the doubtful honor of producing the state of things which caused the
   rise of the Free Methodist Church, an organization which resulted from this
   same persecution. [4] This man entered the army after the breaking out of
   the rebellion of 1861, was subsequently accused of defrauding the
   government, was indicted for the offense, but for some reason was never
   tried. At the time of this writing, December, 1887, an effort is being made
   in Albion, where he attempted to stop the revival described in this chapter,
   to raise money to relieve him from severe destitution.

   An incident occurred during this meeting worthy of note, and which
   illustrates the thoroughness of Mr. Redfield’s work.

   He labored to bring all to the gospel level by noticing the poor, and
   especially the colored poor. We have already seen him