The subject of perfect holiness was frequently touched upon in conversation between Boyle, Dutton and myself. Dutton's reports of the testimony of John B. Foot and the letters which he occasionally received from his sister excited much interest in my mind. The usual objections to the doctrine of perfection at first stood in my way. But they gradually disappeared. The objection which seemed strongest and remained last was the confession 0£ Paul: "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect." While ruminating on this text, it suddenly occurred to me that there were several passages in which Christ was said to have been perfected. I immediately turned to Heb. 2: 10, 5: 8-9, and Luke 13 :32, and found that in each of these instances the word "perfect" is used in connection with the idea of suffering, just as it is in Paul's confession. Christ, "though he was a son," and of course perfectly holy, yet needed to learn obedience, and to be made perfect by suffering. I saw plainly that Paul was not speaking of perfect holiness, but of perfection by suffering, or perfect experience. The difficulty was entirely removed, and I was set free from all

 scriptural hindrances to the attainment of perfect holiness.

From this time, which was as early as November 1833, I began to advocate the doctrine of perfection in the Seminary and among my acquaintances. In our devotional meetings, which at that time were most interesting, I declared my belief that the time was coming when perfection-revivals would sweep over the churches as ordinary revivals had swept over the ranks of the impenitent; and I proposed to the students this trying question: "If we preach to sinners their ability to repent and the obligation of immediate submission to God, why ought we not to lay to heart our ability to be perfectly holy and the obligation of immediate conformity to the whole demand of the law?"

At last I prepared and read before the Society of the Seminary an elaborate essay on the question: "Why does not the Christian church at the present day advance as rapidly as the Primitive Church did toward the conquest of the world?" My answer in substance was this: I. The Primitive Church freely and earnestly preached the doctrine of perfection; whereas modem churches have fallen back upon the seventh chapter of Romans, and are afraid to say anything about perfection. 2. The Primitive Church took hold on the full strength of God by the prayer of faith; whereas modern churches think that "the age of miracles is past," and dare not expect actual and immediate answers to their prayers. 3. The Primitive Church relied first on personal holiness, secondly on prayer, and thirdly on preaching, as the means of converting the world; whereas the modern churches rely first on preaching,

secondly on prayer, and lastly on personal holiness. It is not strange that their ministers, having nothing to support them, instead of pulling sinners out of the mire are often pulled into it themselves. In conclusion I proposed for our motto and as a memorial of the order in which the three great subjects ought to stand in our minds the words: Perfection, Prayer, Preaching. All this, though it caused excitement and interesting discussions in the Seminary, raised no alarm of heresy.

The reaction upon myself of my labors to convert others in the revival at New Haven was the immediate cause of my conviction and conversion to Perfectionism. In searching the Scriptures for truths adapted to pierce the hearts of the impenitent I was found at last pierced and writhing on the points of those very truths myself.

I well remember one discourse which I preached in different places four times within a few weeks, and every time with an increasing weight of self-application. The text was Proverbs 28: 13: "He that covereth his sins shall not prosper; but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy." The train of thought was this: The antithesis of covering sin is confessing and forsaking sin. Mere confession is not enough. If men do not forsake their sins, they cover them, how ever much they may confess them. In fact confession of sin in the common way, that is without forsaking it, is the most ingenious and satisfactory way of covering it. When a man's sins lie before him in all their hatefulness, what better way can he take to cover them than to spread a neat white confession over them? This hides their deformity from himself and his fellow-men.

But God sees through this cover, and must abhor this whole system of sinning and confessing and sinning again, which prevails in the churches. Common sense as applied to the dealings of men with each other repudiates it. If a man steals from you today and afterward confesses it, you forgive him. But if he steals again tomorrow and again confesses it, you begin to distrust him. Perhaps, however, you forgive him the second time. But if he steals the third day. and confesses the third time even with tears, you account his confession as bad as his theft, ail insult added to injury, a cover of iniquity. Yet this is the way that men who profess to be religious are dealing with God all over the land. From day to day, from sabbath to sabbath, from year to year, in the closet, the family, and the church, they confess the same sins over and over and never forsake them; never expect to forsake them. The thought I have thus sketched was like a barbed arrow in my heart. Every time I handled it, it entered deeper. It brought me into an agony of conviction, from which I knew there was no escape except by the abandonment once for all of the whole body of sin. This same discourse also took away Dutton's old "hope," and placed him with me in the condition of a convicted sinner.

All this might have resulted in no decisive change, if I had not previously seen the way open into perfect holiness. But with clear views on this subject I found the whole force of my convictions of sin impelling me toward a radical spiritual revolution. Yet I knew I had been converted before in some sense, and had served God with zeal. "How can it be," I asked myself,

Still the question would arise, "How shall I dispose of my blessed experience of God's love? Has he been approving me as a sinner, or has my supposed communion with him been a delusion?" I found a satisfactory answer in the following passages: "He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." "Despisest thou the

At last the pressure of conviction became so great, that I lost all relish for the revival labors in which I was engaged; not because I cared less for souls, but because I felt that it was folly to try to save others while I myself was not saved. At one of the meetings I stated with all sincerity my views of my case, and remarked that the "sinners" to whom I had preached, if they could know my situation, might fairly say to me:

"Physician, heal thyself"; "first cast out the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye." From that time I withdrew from public effort as far as I could consistently with my positive engagements, and gave myself up to prayer, searching the Scriptures, and inquiry after salvation from sin. My appetite forsook me and for a week before I found peace I took but little food.

The law, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart," was ever before my mind as the only

The question with me was not how to get relict from this distress nor how to be saved at last from hell, but how to fulfill now the righteousness of the law. The solution of this question, though now it seems simple, was then a matter of great difficulty. The ideas of faith current in that day were few and meager. I had been trained in the revival doctrines of "submitting to the will of God" and "making benevolence the governing purpose," but my attention had never been directed to faith as fundamentally related to salvation from sin.

The circumstance which finally fixed my eye on faith was this: Dutton, who had gone hand in hand with me into the dark valley of conviction, was telling me one day about the Albany Perfectionists, and mentioned that they made great account of faith. The remark caught my attention, and I immediately went through the New Testament noting all I found on this subject. At the end of the examination I was greatly astonished at the magnitude of the subject as exhibited in the Bible and my own ignorance of it. In the gos-

But it was only the beginning. Though I had thus found the clue of faith, I had not yet reached the resting-place to which it leads. My heart still anxiouslv pondered the question, How shall I get this faith? I felt like one groping for a door in the dark without a guide. Sometimes I looked wistfully toward Albany, and almost resolved to go to John B. Foot or some other person who, I supposed, had experience of faith. In this state of mind Dutton and I sought out an old woman, whom I had met in a morning prayer meeting. She was reported crazy, but Dutton thought this a sign in her favor, as the western Perfectionists were generally accounted crazy. She appeared to be really deranged. Her remarks about believing, however, had a good effect on my mind. She would enter into no explanations, but treated our difficulties as contemptible. "Oh," said she, "if you cannot believe what God says, you cannot expect anything." This was the right answer to our inquiries, whether the credit of it was due to her sagacity or not.

On the evening of the same day I was under the

necessity of attending an inquiry meeting at Mr. Benjamin's in Orange Street. I had no heart for the appropriate labors of the meeting. I was an almost despairing inquirer myself, and it was misery to attempt to instruct others. As I sat brooding over my difficulties and prospects, I listlessly opened my Bible and my eye fell upon these words: "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God." The words seemed to glow upon the page, and my spirit heard a voice from heaven through them promising me the baptism of the Holy Spirit and the second birth. I opened the Bible again in the spirit of Samuel, when he said: "Speak Lord, for thy servant heareth," and these words were before me: "At my first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me: I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge. Notwithstanding the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me; that by me the preaching might be fully known, and that all the Gentiles might hear; and I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion. And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve me unto his heavenly kingdom; to whom be glory forever and ever." Again my soul drank in a spiritual promise appropriate to my situation, an assurance of everlasting victory. Once more I opened the book, and these words met my view:

"Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people all the words of this life." I closed the book, and went home with hopeful feelings, believing that I had conversed with God, that my course was marked out,

Faith as a grain of mustard seed was in my heart; but its expansion into full consciousness of spiritual life and peace required yet another step, confession. The next morning I recurred to the passage which had been my guide in my first conversion: "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt be-lieve in thy heart that God bath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." I saw in this passage what I had not seen distinctly before, the power of Christ's resurrection as the center-point of faith, and the necessity of confession as the complement of belief. As I reflected on this last point, it flashed across my mind that the work was done, that Christ was in me with the power of his resurrection, and that it only remained for me to confess it before the world in order to enjoy the consciousness of it. I determined at once to confess Christ in me a Savior from sin at all hazards; and though I did not immediately have all the feelings which I hoped for, I knew I was walking in the truth, and went forward fearlessly and with hopeful peace.

It fell to my lot to preach that evening at the Free Church. I prepared myself during the day for an unflinching testimony against all sin. When I announced from the desk my text, "He that committeth sin is of the devil," I felt, and I doubt not the audience felt, that I was entering upon a new field of theology. I insisted upon the literal meaning of the text, and did

I went home with a feeling that I had committed myself irreversibly, and on my bed that night I received the baptism which I desired and expected. Three times in quick succession a stream of eternal love gushed through my heart, and rolled back again to its source. "Joy unspeakable and full of glory" filled my soul. All fear and doubt and condemnation passed away. I knew that my heart was clean, and that the Father and the Son had come and made it their abode.

The next morning one of the theological students, who had heard my discourse at the Free Church the evening before, came to labor with me in relation to it. He thought it altogether too stringent, and wished to know if I really meant what I said, that a sinner cannot be a Christian. I assured him that I did so mean. Then came, as I expected, the argumentum ad hominem. "If this is your doctrine," said he, "you unchurch yourself as well as others. Don't you commit sin?" It was a greater thing to confess holiness in those days than it is now. I knew that my answer would plunge me into the depths of contempt; but I answered deliberately and firmly, "No." The man stared as though a thunderbolt had fallen before him. At first he seemed to doubt his own senses and asked the question again. When I had convinced him that I actually professed to be free from sin, he went away

Four days after professing himself saved from sin Noyes wrote a letter to his mother describing his experience. His sister Charlotte mentions in her reminiscences seeing her mother standing in the kitchen, holding the letter with wet hands, and exclaiming:

"What does John mean?"

February 20, 1834, was the date on which Noyes first declared himself saved from sin. This date was ever afterward held most memorable by Noyes and his followers. In the Oneida Community February 20th was regarded as a spiritual New Year's Day-the "high tide of the spirit" it was called-and each year it was celebrated with appropriate ceremonies. The Opposite date, August 20th, was called the "high tide of the flesh," and at that season special aids against temptation were often invoked.

My first effort after I reached the shore of peace was to help Brother Dutton out of the deep waters. I labored much to convince him of the truth of the saying, "God bath given to us eternal life." He assented to all I said, but could not realize and confess eternal life in himself. Indeed my exertions to save him seemed only to sink him deeper in despair. He soon left me and went to Albany, where he became a disciple of John B. Foot, and embraced the Wesleyan type of holiness which was in vogue among the New York Perfectionists.

"I will." Immediately a manifest change came over her spirit. Her countenance began to beam with joy. She said afterward that she received at this time a baptism of the glory of God, which so overwhelmed her that she seemed on the point of passing to the other world.

The next morning at the prayer-meeting, which she as well as I usually attended, I stood up with a hymnbook in my hand and remarked that I was about to read a hymn which we had often sung with the mouth but never with the heart. I requested that all who could now sing it in earnest, realizing and appropriating its sentiments, should stand up and sing it with me. I then read the following:

 Lord, I make a full surrender;

The influence of Abigail Merwin more than anything else opened for me an entrance into the Free Church, and ultimately enabled me to overcome the hostility of Boyle. Her brother-in-law, Benjamin, who was deacon of the Free Church, his wife, and Abigail's brother immediately followed her in the profession and advocacy of holiness. Thus a standpoint was gained. The leading men of the Free Church were taken by surprise, and until they had time to recover themselves by consultation with higher theolo-

In the meantime I was busily engaged in circulating my new views in other ways. I wrote letters giving an account of my experience to an extensive circle of friends with whom I was in correspondence. On the morning of my declaration I received by mail invitations to preach from three distant places. In reply to these proposals I defined my new position, and stated that the change of my views was such that the applicants would probably not wish to employ me. I wrote to the Missionary Brethren at Andover withdrawing my pledge to go on a foreign mission and briefly stating my reasons. This drew from Champion, the missionary who afterward went to Africa, an expostulatory reply asking for a more full explanation of my course. I wrote again stating that I felt bound to withdraw my pledge for three reasons: first, because I now knew that I was not a Christian when I made it; second, because I had discovered that God was my owner and had the right to direct me by his Spirit, and therefore I had no right to let myself unreservedly to the missionary society; third, because I saw that I was already on missionary ground, among a people who though professedly Christian needed to he converted quite as much as the heathen. This correspondence and other means of report communicated much of the agitation which existed at New Haven to the theological seminary at Andover.

Mr. Boyle was absent at a protracted meeting in Hartford when I began the testimony of holiness. On his return he set himself to counteract my operations in his church. He preached on the text which I had handled, "He that committeth sin is of the devil," and endeavored to subvert the doctrine which I had built upon it. He prayed against the disturbing influences which were coming in upon his flock. At length I called upon him. Our interview was to me one of fearful interest. I respected and loved him, and was afraid he would reject the truth. He treated me with a good degree of politeness, but resisted my testimony. His cold words were as daggers to my heart. Finally as I was turning to leave I asked him if he would examine the subject. A new spirit seemed then to come upon him. He answered, "I will"; and we parted with kind words and hopes of continued fellowship.

Soon after this interview he requested me to visit among his church members, and gave me several of their names and places of residence. I traveled the streets on this commission till my feet were blistered. At length Amos Townshend, who at this time had recovered his equilibrium and was beginning to see the necessity of taking active measures to stop the fire I was scattering, sent me notice of a vote of the church requesting me to discontinue my communications with its members. I immediately complied with his request.

While these things were passing I was engaged -most every hour in answering inquiries and disputing with adversaries. The students of the College and Theological Seminary flocked to my room, some to see the "perfect man" as they would go to see an elephant or any other curiosity, and others to argue me down or puzzle me with objections. At last I was weary of being visited as a "show," and I told one theological student that he came to "quiz" me and refused to talk with him. The report of this affair increased the belief, which many were busily spreading in the city, that I was crazy. Another young man from the College called upon me, apparently to make honest inquiries but probably from motives of curiosity. After answering his objections to the doctrine of holiness, I began to assail his conscience with the sharpest truths of the word of God. He became serious, turned pale, and at last, when his confidence in his carnal religion failed within him, staggered back and fainted. On recovering himself he went away and laid his case be-

The flood of contention which poured in upon me from the College and Seminary kept my intellectual powers in a state of intense energy for several weeks. J never grew faster than at that time. A feeling of fearful responsibility rested upon me. It seemed as though God in giving me the treasure of the gospel had l)laced me in the midst of the keenest and fiercest disputers of this world, that its defensibility might be thoroughly tested. I felt that I must fairly answer every fair objection to the doctrine of holiness, or sink myself. If I did not satisfy objectors, I usually silenced them; and at all events I got hold of the truth for myself in the struggle.

Within a week or two after my confession the question whether perfect holiness is attainable in this life was brought forward as a subject of debate in the Society of the Theological Seminary. Dr. Taylor was in the chair. I was specially requested to open the debate by presenting a synopsis of my theory. I read the tenth chapter of Hebrews, and commented on it, aiming to clear a path for my doctrine by showing the difference between the law and the gospel. I dwelt particularly on the 10th, 14th, and 16th verses as proofs of the advent of perfection by the sacrifice of Christ. When I came to speak of objections, I made this general remark: "Holiness is the manifest object of God in all his dealings with man, and especially in his gift of the Bible. It ought to be presumed therefore that there is nothing in the Bible which by fair

During these first days of my experience in Perfectionism I certainly did not regard myself as perfect in any such sense as excludes the expectation of discipline and improvement. On the contrary, from the very beginning my heart's most earnest desire and prayer to God was that I might be "made perfect by full fellowship with the sufferings of Christ"; and from that time till now all my tribulations have been occasions of thanksgiving, because I have regarded them as answers to that first prayer and as pledges of God's faithfulness in completing the work then begun. The distinction between being free from sin on the one hand and being past all improvement on the other, however obscure it may be to some, was plain to me as soon as I knew by experience what freedom from sin really was. To those who endeavored to confound that distinction and crowd me into a profession of un-

The sentiment of Paul, "Ye are not under law, but tinder grace," was an instinct of my heart rather than a theory of my head at this time. I knew that my justification came at first not by my own obedience to law but by the infusion of the Spirit, and to the same agency I looked for its continuance. When those with whom I disputed talked about the vast breadth of the law, criticised the minutiae of my outward conduct, and taunted me with sin, I was content, if I could not satisfy them, to feel that God's method of dealing with me was not like theirs. I perceived that his eye was on the root and not on the branches of my character, and my own eye instinctively turned the same way, though my previous training had tended to make me exceedingly scrupulous about externals. With the consciousness of his approbation in my heart, I could not stand as a culprit at the bar of the law or torment myself with doubtful disputatious of conscience, however strenuously my adversaries visible and invisible labored to bring me into the snare.

Once only for a moment I was on the verge of condemnation. The occasion of my trouble, however, was not any apparent breach of the common rules of legality, but an affair of quite an opposite character. I found from the time when I yielded my whole heart to God, that the Spirit which had taken possession of

Not long after the debate in the Seminary described on a previous page, Dr. Taylor called at my room to notify me that I was soon to be tried by the Association which licensed me. He tarried awhile, and we had a dispute of some length. He complained of me for broaching new views in the Seminary without consulting him; apprised me that he had dealt with one Perfectionist before, and had convinced him of sin; and intimated that he should serve me in the same way. I appealed to my experience, declaring that I had received the Holy Spirit and could not be turned from my course by man. He laughed my declaration to scorn, asserting that it is physically impossible for any man to feel the Spirit of God. I replied that I certainly had felt the Spirit of God not only in my soul but in every fiber of my body. In the course of the conversation I insisted that his own views of rnan's perfect ability to obey the law of God led directly to Perfectionism. His answer in substance was, that while man was perfectly able to keep the law and God had a perfect right to require him to do so, yet a "gracious system," in which perfect obedience was not re-

In the latter part of April J received an invitation from Mr. Chapman, pastor of the Congregational Church in Prospect, Connecticut, to labor among his people. I went and remained ten days; preached every evening and three times on each Sabbath. Boyle had been there before, and bad shaken the church to its foundations. Almost every member of the church was cut down. It was a scene of overwhelming interest; yet all was still and solemn. Dr. Taylor had said that I might find here and there a simple-minded man or a few silly women to impose upon. But in Prospect the very best of the inhabitants fell under the sword of God's truth, and pressed into the kingdom of holiness.
 

Whereas, Mr. Noyes has adopted views on the doctrine of Christian perfection, which in the opinion of this Association are erroneous, unscriptural, and inconsistent with his usefulness as a preacher of the gospel, and such as in his own opinion are inconsistent with his retaining his license;

Therefore, Resolved, that without impeaching the Christian character of Mr. Noyes this Association do hereby recall his license to preach the gospel.
 

The Association remained in session. Boyle sat with them by invitation. On returning to my room I found just arrived from the press a quantity of the tract entitled Paul not Carnal, which I had sent to the printer a few days before. I took a handful, went back to the session room, thrust them into the hands of Boyle, who sat near the door, and he distributed them among the ministers.

Soon after this Dr. Taylor called upon me again, and signified to me the wish of the Faculty that I withdraw altogether from the college premises. My room was in the college chapel. My brother, who belonged to the classical department, occupied it with me. I suggested to the Doctor that it would be inconvenient for me to remove my things immediately and, as my brother would continue to occupy the room, it might be well to allow me to remain till the end of the term, which was near its close. He assented, and I remained.

I had now lost my standing in the Free Church, in the ministry, and in the College. My good name in the great world was gone. My friends were fast falling away. I was beginning to be indeed an outcast. Yet I rejoiced and leaped for joy. Sincerely I declared that I was glad when I got rid of my reputation. Some person asked me whether I should continue to preach now that the clergy had taken away my license. I replied: "I have taken away their license to sin, and they keep on sinning. So, though they have taken away my license to preach, I shall keep on preaching."

Some weeks afterward Weld came to New Haven and took lodgings with Boyle. His object was to put himself in communication with me. Boyle introduced us at the close of a meeting, and gave me some account of Weld's experience. We soon became intimate. There was much in his character that attracted my sympathy. He was profoundly versed in spiritual mysteries, was highly intellectual, and seemed to be filled with the most lovely benevolence. We were never weary of conversing. I respected his apparent wisdom and was desirous of profiting by it.

I soon found that there was a tendency in him to

assume a fatherly relation toward me. He received my communications on the subject of holiness and the second coming with readiness and deference, but criticised my manner of presenting them as being too abrupt and alarming. He gave me to understand that he had exercised a paternal supervision over Finney, Boyle, Lansing, his brother Theodore and others; and it was not long before he established him-self as privy counsellor to me. In fact it appeared from his account of his experience, that he had in a certain sense preceded me in the truth. I learned from him that, when he was at Andover some eight or ten years before, he passed through a series of singular spiritual exercises in which full redemption of soul and body was set before him as attainable and was promised to him on condition of his practising certain austerities for a specific period. He failed to fulfill the condition, and in consequence fell into a state of horrible despair, from the effects of which he had never entirely recovered. This experience, however, gave him so much advantage in comprehending and judging my disclosures, that he considered himself as in some sense entitled to take the lead of me. I did not object, for I certainly had no idea at that time of being a leader myself.

I perceived, however, in process of time that his plan of softening down my testimony did not work well in his own case. He remained day after day a prisoner to condemnation, seeing the glory of the truth and talking about it with abundant wisdom, but not realizing and confessing it in himself. He was like a sick doctor under the care of another more

Boyle was at this time approaching the crisis of his convictions. I had an interview with him, and by a resolute effort succeeded in bringing him to a confession of Christ. The following is an account of the scene in his own words: "The question was put to me: 'Will you take Christ as a whole Savior?' I answered with all my heart: 'I will.' Instantly the power of God rushed upon me like a flood. The fire was kindled upon his altar just dedicated to him, and I felt that I was introduced into a new world. Old things immediately passed away and all things became new."

Weld was present at this interview, and was much affected by the truth that was uttered and the events that passed before him. I endeavored to bring him also to a decision and partially succeeded. But his confession was not prompt and unequivocal like Boyle's, and was attended with no satisfactory results. He remained some days in his usual doubtful position. At last I told him plainly that his mild method of treating his case would never effect anything; that he must look the law of God in the face and submit to the full pressure of the truth that "he that committeth sin is of the devil." He assented to what I said

This was on the day of the State Fast. Boyle was absent attending a protracted meeting in a neighboring town, and had requested Weld to fill his place in the services of the day at the Free Church. After the conversation just mentioned he conducted the public exercises of the forenoon in the usual manner but with considerable embarrassment. During the intermission he told me that he could not preach in the afternoon, for God had made it clear to him that I ought to take his place. I replied that I had no objection, if the deacons of the church were willing. He went to Benjamin and Townshend and obtained their consent. I told him that, if I preached, I should say some cruel things. He bade me follow my own heart.

He went into the desk with me and introduced me to the congregation with a frank confession of his confidence in the truth of the doctrines I taught and I chose for the subject of my discourse these words:

"I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance; but an exhortation to candor. He then took his seat among the congregation on the right side of the house. he that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear. He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire; whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire." I had not premeditated at all, but my thoughts were clear and my utterance free. My aim was to show that the ministration of Christ was far more searching and terrible

than any that went before; that he came for judgment, and that judgment came by the spiritual revelation of those fiery truths concerning sin and holiness, which were developed by Christ and his apostles and which were now again manifesting themselves; that we were living not in the dispensation of water but in the dispensation of the Holy Ghost and of fire; that we were on the floor of Christ, and his fan was waving over us; that his Spirit and gospel were among us separating the chaff from the wheat, and soon we should be in the garner or in the fire.

In the midst of my discourse I was interrupted by a strange sound. I looked around and saw Weld sitting with his eyes closed, his countenance black, his hands waving up and down, and his lungs laboring with long, rattling breaths. It was the most awful scene of agony I ever witnessed. Many fled from it in dismay. At length a crisis came. Weld gradually became quiet, and gleams of joy appeared on his countenance. He stood up, and gazed slowly around upon the people with an eye of angelic brilliancy. After this he relapsed partially into his former state. The congregation retired. I remained with a few others till the paroxysm passed off, and then conducted him to his room at Mr. Boyle's. He returned soon after to Hartford.

Weld's own account of the immediate occasion of his distress was this : From the beginning of my discourse the words of my mouth were like fire to his spirit. They scorched him more and more till he could endure no longer, and he thought of rising and smiting me in the pulpit. Instantly upon this the word

In the latter part of April I met Weld at Bethany. Since the affair at the Free Church he had remained in an equivocal state. Nevertheless he had continued to communicate with the believers in New Haven, and had not lost his influence over them or me. He had advanced considerably in mysticism. It was evident that he considered himself exalted by his sufferings, and he was more than ever inclined to be a leader to me. I was at that time far from being qualified or disposed to pass judgment on his character, and we resumed our former relations with all cordiality.

The New York anniversary meetings of the clergy were approaching. Weld proposed to attend them, and wished to take me with him. The gathering of ministers and religious persons from all parts of the country, which was expected on this occasion, seemed to offer a grand opportunity for disseminating our views. Weld's acquaintance with the clergy was extensive and might be of service in introducing me among them. Influenced partly by these considerations I placed myself at his disposal.

The principal work, however, which I intended to accomplish while in New York, was one which, easy as it seemed then, has since proved to be a labor of many years and is not accomplished yet.* I proposed to myself the task of clearing Perfectionism of the disreputable mysticisms and barbarisms which had

The case was this. The spiritual department of religion was then even more than now a wild uncultivated region traversed almost only by fanatics and spiritual "squatters." Perfectionism was essentially a spiritual development, and as such was exposed, especially in the inexperience of its infancy, to all the diseases and barbarisms of the region to which it belonged. The thing to be done, though I was not then aware of it, was not to shield the new colony from the influences which surrounded it by such partial defensive measures as disclaimers and acts of disfellowship, but to clear up and civilize the whole spiritual region. This was not to be accomplished by a pamphlet or two, nor in any way by a spiritual novice. The qualifications requisite for the undertaking were an experimental knowledge of spiritual philosophy, an acquaintance with the principalities of the invisible world, practical skill in discriminating between divine and diabolical manifestations and impressions, and a boldness, which rough experience only can give, in facing and exposing spiritual impostors. It will be seen in the progress of this narrative that God, who was wiser than I, instead of allowing me to do immediately what I intended to do when I went to New York, put me into a school of terrible experience

During our passage to New York and while we remained there together Weld and I conversed much on spiritual subjects. The turn which he gave to our communications was too imaginative to be healthy. His mind ran on such subjects as the official arrangements of the coming dispensation, the physical enjoyments of the resurrection state, and spiritual marriage. Holiness was not the center of his thoughts; and though it was of mine, I yielded myself for the time to his leadings, not suspecting snares and thinking him my superior in spiritual judgment.

We took lodgings at Tammany Hall, where we remained till Weld left the city. We had at first little money, but Weld afterward obtained some from a friend. The routine exercises of the anniversaries did not attract much of our attention. I noticed particularly, however, the "fluttering" caused by the report which had gone abroad about New Haven Perfectionism. Several of the speakers alluded to that subject in a manner that indicated ill suppressed bitterness and anxiety.

I placed myself under Weld's directions in regard to my personal labors with the clergy and others. He sent me first to an interview with James Latourette, with whom he was previously acquainted. From the conversation of Foot, Dutton and others who called soon after our arrival I had learned that Latourette was regarded as the emperor of the scattered groups of Perfectionists in the state of New York. I expected to find him far in advance of myself in the wisdom of

"If I speak, I shall preach the security." He answered:

"Speak what the Lord gives you." I attended the meeting, and spoke warmly and at length on the text:

"He that sinneth bath not seen him, neither known him." While I was speaking he sealed what I said with an "Amen or Hallelujah" at almost every sentence. After the meeting there seemed to be no small stir in the minds of the people about my testimony. One said : "If that doctrine is true, I am no Christian." Another said: "I know the doctrine is not true, for I have been converted and backslidden two or three times." So the word went round. Immediately Latourette began to condemn my testimony; and before I had time for argument roared upon me with a voice of thunder: "Your doctrine is from hell! Get thee behind me, Satan!" So I left the meeting, overborne not by argument but by clamor.

After this Weld directed me to call on a clergyman

by the name of Ingersoll, who was then officiating in the Chatham Street Chapel. This gentleman, when he learned that I was a Perfectionist, commenced an assault upon me. "Young man," said he, "I know all about your doctrine, and I shall convince you that it is false." "Very well," said I. 'If you can do what you say, I shall he very willing to give up my error. You shall have an opportunity to try." Thereupon we sat down, and disputed about an hour; and then parted certainly without his having made any headway in fulfilling his boast.

By Weld's suggestion I next called on Mrs. Finney, wife of Rev. Charles G. Finney, who was then absent on a voyage for his health. When I made known to Mrs. Finney my profession and my object in calling, she entered into conversation with me on spiritual subjects with considerable interest. I gathered from what she said, that she and her husband were thinking much on the subject of holiness, but were fearful of the errors and fanaticisms connected with it. One of her remarks was substantially as follows : "Mr. Finney sometimes tells me that I may be perfect, but that it will not answer for him, as it would ruin his influence." She asked me to pray with her children, which I did. I imagined that her object in this was to try my holiness by the "new measure" test, that is, to see whether I could pray well. Whether I acquitted myself to her satisfaction I never ascertained.

Weld engaged me in discourse with several other persons. At the end of about a week he returned to Hartford, and I removed to a boarding-house in Leonard Street, intending to devote myself to writing.

On sitting down to my proposed task of writing a tract on Perfectionism I found myself much straitened in spirit and mind. My thoughts refused to take the direction which I had prescribed for them, and I soon became convinced that God was calling my attention to other subjects than those I had chosen; that the thinking I had to do was to be for myself instead of for others. The first subject toward which the instincts of my heart turned was the resurrection. The gospel which I had received and preached was based on the idea that faith identifies the soul with Christ, so that by his death and resurrection the believer dies and rises again spiritually, and thus, so far as sin is concerned, is

Not in a presumptuous spirit, but under a solemn sense of duty resulting from what I regarded as logical deductions of truth, I summoned all my powers to an act of faith in Christ as the Savior of the body as well as the soul. A spirit of wrestling prayer for victory over death came upon me. It was not so much the act of dying that I wished to be delivered from as the spiritual power of death which broods over all men. What I sought I obtained. From that time to this I have acknowledged and felt no allegiance to death.

As it has been frequently reported that I have professed a belief that I should never die, I will briefly define my position in relation to this point. The conclusions to which I came at the period under consideration, and which I have always avowed since, are as follows:

1. As Christ did not scruple to say, "He that believeth on me shall never die," and that too with manifest reference of some kind to the body (see John I I : 26 and 8: 51), 50 the believer need not scruple to apply that language to himself. The believer may part with his flesh and blood, but shall never part with his life. His true body-that which is within his flesh and blood-is already risen from the dead by the power of Christ's resurrection, and parting with flesh and blood will be to him no death. He will pass into

2. The death of flesh and blood to the believer is not inevitable. It is not a "debt" which he owes to the devil, or to sin, or to the laws of nature. His debts to all these tyrants are paid. Christ has bought him out of their hands; and the question whether he shall (lie in the ordinary sense will be determined not by some inexorable necessity, but by the choice of Christ, and of course by the choice of himself as a member of Christ. "No man taketh my life from me," said Christ, "but I lay it down of myself." The power which he had with respect to his own life he has with respect to the lives of those who believe on him. As members of him they may lay down their lives as he did ; but no man or devil takes their lives from them. Accordingly Paul balancing between the desire of life and death said : "What I shall choose I wot not."

3. It is certain from the predictions of Scripture that the time is coming when death will be abolished both as to form and substance. It is not to be expected that individuals will enter into this last victory of Christ much in advance of the whole body of believers. God is evidently preparing for a general insurrection against the "king of terrors," and we may reasonably anticipate the crisis and victory as near. "They that are alive and remain till the promised consummation will not die in any sense, but will pass from the mortal to the immortal state by an instantaneous change, as described in I Cor. 15 : 51.

My profession then since 1834 has been briefly this: If I pass through the form of dying, yet in fact I shall

The first results of the act of faith which I have described were delightful I passed one night in unspeakable happiness I felt that I had bunt through the shroud of death into the heavenly places. But I soon found that the spiritual transition which I had made had placed me in new relations to evil spirits as well as -, that I had entered a region where the powers of darkness were to he encountered face to face as I had never encountered them before.

In die course of the following day a strange, murky spiritual atmosphere began to gather around me. Strange thoughts coursed through my brain unsuggested by my own reflections and uncontrolled by my will. I felt with shuddering that the Evil One was near. But my heart failed not. I still found refuge in God and felt that I could defy the universe of evil to injure me.

The multitude of involuntary thoughts which fermented in my mind finally settled into a strong impression that I was about to part with flesh and Mood either by ordinary death or by an instantaneous change. Nor was it merely an impression that seemed to summon me away. Ere long I began actually to feel a suffocating pressure on my lungs. This was not the effect of physical disease, for my organs of respiration were healthy before and afterward. Nor was it the

After this I went through a protracted process of involuntary thought and feeling, which I can describe by no better name than a spiritual crucifixion. All the events of Christ's death were vividly pictured in my mind, and by some means realized in my feelings. I went through them not as a spectator, but as a victim. At length came the resurrection, and for a time I was released from suffering.

One physical effect of the spiritual change which had now passed upon me was loss of appetite. From this time till I left New York I took but little aliment. At times I had a special and excessive loathing of all animal food. Indeed I had a strong impression (not derived from any acquaintance with modern physiological theories) that meat-eating was a barbarism which would be abolished in the kingdom of God. But this feeling did not extend to marine food. My general rule in regard to diet was to follow the orders of instinct. The strongest stimulants such as cayenne pepper suited my appetite best, and I used them for a

Sleep also was for the most part a nuisance to me. It seemed to be the condition in which the powers of darkness had most advantage of me, and I avoided it many times as I would avoid fire. Partly for this reason and partly because a spirit whose will I could not resist constrained me, I spent many nights in the streets. Oftentimes after a day of wearisome labor of mind and perhaps of body I would retire to my room, hoping for this once to enjoy a night of repose, if not of sleep. But suddenly a horror of sleep would come upon me, and a spiritual impulse would summon me with an importunity not to be denied to a night journey in the city. When weariness overcame me in these excursions, so that sleep became inevitable, I would lie down on a door-stone, or on the steps of the City Hall, or on the benches of the Battery, and forget myself for a few minutes. In this way most of my sleep for three weeks was taken.

In my night excursions I was sometimes led into the vilest parts of the city. I went alone at midnight into streets which I had been told were dangerous even in the daytime. I descended into cellars where abandoned men and women were gathered, and talked familiarly with them about their ways of life, beseeching them to believe on Christ, that they might be saved from their sins. They listened to me without abuse. One woman seemed much affected. I gave her a Bible. To another I gave a Testament. Sometimes, when I

The history of my use of ardent spirits is this During my career in legal religion I had been a zealous temperance man, and like other such zealots had regarded the use of intoxicating drinks as a sin. When I had proceeded far enough in my strange experience in New York to see that my old principles of morality, however useful they had been in the ways of ordinary life, were not competent to guide me in the new world which I had entered, I began to look about for some new system of ethics on which I might depend for security from defilement. I saw that in my circumstances, whatever might be true of others, individual free agency, which is the mainspring of legal morality, was well-nigh swallowed tip in the agency of superior powers. It was evident that my only hope of safety lay in the fact that God was one of those superior powers, and that lie was stronger than all the rest.

In this state of mind I felt impelled both by spiritual instinct and by principle to assert practically my liberty from the rules of my old bondage. The temperance law was only one of those rules, but it had fixed itself in my conscience more firmly perhaps than any other, and was therefore the representative of all legality. Luther said to his followers : "If anywhere anyone sets up the Sabbath on the Jewish foundation making the day holy for the mere day's sake, then I order you to ride on it, to dance on it, to feast on it, to do anything that shall reprove this encroachment on the Christian spirit of liberty.' In the spirit of

The effect of the course I pursued was such as I anticipated. it loosed me from my grave-clothes. ft established me in a freedom from the petty tyranny of fashionable morality, which no pressure of public opinion has since been able to subvert. I have found. as I expected, that God is able to keep me from intemperance and all other evil without the help of pledges or the influence of human combinations.

It may not be superfluous to suggest that it would be as unwise for any one to attempt an external imitation of the course I pursued without reference to the circumstances and influences under which I acted, as it would be for one to take medicine by another's example without regard to his own condition.

After the spiritual crucifixion which has been described I received a baptism of that spirit which has since manifested itself extensively in the form of Millerism. My doctrinal views had no affinity with Miller's theory of the second advent. I knew that the first judgment took place immediately after the destruction of Jerusalem, and that it was an event in the spiritual world. Yet I expected a second judgment at the end of the times of the Gentiles. The spirit which now came upon me produced an irresistible impression that this judgment was to take place immediately. It

I was next driven by an invisible influence through a course of reasoning on philosophical subjects, which entirely broke up all my previous scholastic theories and reduced me to a condition of universal doubt. My mind was preternaturally active and ranged with astonishing freedom over boundless regions of thought. I imagined I saw with the clearness of heaven the falsehood of the Copernican system. The earth seemed the center of all things, and I was compelled to believe that the special dwelling-place of God instead of being above the firmament was in the opposite direction at the center of the earth. In like manner all my previous conceptions of truth in other departments of science were turned topsy-turvy, and on their ruins arose the discarded theories of the ancient world. I was spirit-bound for a time to a curious doctrine of metempsychosis. I thought that every soul was to appear in this world four times in

When all that the schools had laid up within me had been prostrated and reduced to chaos, I said within myself: "The Bible stands firm nevertheless. " But soon the destroyer was let loose on that also. Objections to the inspiration and credibility of the Scriptures began to force themselves on my mind. With merciless and more than human ingenuity the spiritual intelligence which directed my thoughts arrayed before me all the apparent inconsistencies and immoralities of the Bible, till at last I cast it from me with abhorrence as a monstrous imposition.

I have said that Abigail Merwin was my first companion in the faith of holiness, and that the boldness of her testimony and the beauty of her behavior in the trying period of our first warfare at New Haven gained much favor for the truth. It was natural that I should regard her with peculiar confidence. She was the person to whom I was attached more than to any other on earth. From her too, as well as from all other objects of my previous confidence, I was separated by the spirit of doubt in my temptations in New York. When every other friend was gone, she was presented to me "in the visions of my head," and her character was subjected to the fearful test which had rent from me even the Bible. I saw her standing as it were on the pinnacle of the universe in the glory of an angel; but a voice from which I could not turn away pronounced her title-"Satan trans-

Still I clung to Jesus Christ. But ere long this refuge also failed me. His character on being subjected to the diabolical spirit of analysis which had taken possession of my intellect was gradually stripped of its glory, and at length appeared preeminently hideous. With agony I yielded to the conviction that he was the prince of devils.

Finally I said in my heart : "If all science is a lie, if the Bible is an imposition, if Jesus Christ is the prince of devils, still there is a God in whom I may trust." Then the cloud of doubt began to gather about the idea of God. Satan took advantage of his own abuses, and turned my thoughts toward the impositions that had been practised upon me by what I supposed to be the spirit of God. The Bible was gone. Nothing but my own experience was left to me; and when that was set before my eyes as a series of deceptions, my belief in God was overclouded, and the darkness of atheism fell upon me.

At this point in my trials a persuasion took possession of me that I myself was Lucifer, the fallen son of the morning. I submitted to this impression with a struggling resignation to the decree which doomed me to eternal perdition. While in this state of mind I was impelled to visit Latourette. I found Harriet Livermore, the celebrated prophetess, at his house. She thrust at me with many sharp words; and both of them, curiously chiming in with the accusing sentence that was upon me, threw hints about Lucifer in my face. I answered nothing, but went home in a depth

The net of Satan had completely enveloped my intellect. Yet there was an instinctive consciousness of strength and an imperishable hope in my heart. When the spirit of darkness had done its worst, I said within myself : "If the universe is a blind chaos without a God, and the destinies of all beings are to be worked out by their own strength, I have as good a right to try what I can do for existence and happiness as anybody. I will yet wrestle for victory over evil." Then my heart began to burn with indignation against the spirit which was abusing me. My will lifted itself up apparently with the energy of omnipotence against the adversary. I acted in the spirit of the words of Isaiah : ''I looked, and there was none to help; and I wondered that there was none to uphold : therefore mine own arm brought salvation unto me ; and my fury, it upheld me." The net gave way, and immediately I found myself again in an atmosphere of confidence and peace.

The effect of this mental overturn was permanent. I could hardly tell afterward what I believed on any subject till I had investigated it anew. The rule of mental economy which I then adopted is this : What we positively know is all the mental capital we can count upon as safe and available. What we guess believe, and hope to be true is paper capital, that may be genuine or not. It is well enough to have on hand a great heap of guesses, but we must not think of living on them. We should look over the whole mass of our thoughts, select out all that we absolutely know,

I was now learning rapidly the "ways of the world" in which I found myself. The deceiver had gone too far for his own interest in arraying before me my past delusions for the sake of destroying my belief in the existence of a God. That array produced in me a more distinct conviction than I had ever had before of the existence of a devil, and of one too who could thrust himself into the place of God and imitate the influences of the Holy Ghost. I began to feel freedom in examining the credentials of invisible powers, and soon arrived at the following conclusion, which has been a valuable rule to me ever since: I am bound to believe and obey the impressions of God but not those of the devil. I have a right therefore to suspend belief till I can ascertain whether an impression comes from God or from the devil. God does not wish me to do otherwise. If any spirit attempts to hurry and drive me into belief and obedience, I may be sure that it is a spirit of darkness.

Toward the close of my time of trouble I attended a church in the city, where I heard Dr. Cox preach. His subject was the righteousness of faith, and he took occasion to speak severely and contemptuously of the views of Perfectionists. The next day. after some inward conflicts, I yielded to an impulse which directed

If I have failed in any part of this outline of my New York experiences, it has been in not conveying an

The crisis in which my sufferings came to an end was marked by the following circumstance : My feet had become much inflamed. Indeed I could walk only with extreme difficulty and pain. I attributed this partly to my much walking, and partly to the accumulation of poisonous matter, which according to my physiological theory had been driven down from the rest of my body into my feet. In this condition I became sensible of a strong instinctive impulse to seek the salt water and bathe. I went to one of the wharves, and sat with my feet in the water about half an hour. On my return I found myself able to walk quite

My spirit at the same time passed into a state of permanent peace. One of the sorest of my troubles had been anxiety about money matters. I was boarding at an expense of four dollars per week, and a bill of some twelve dollars was to be met. I had no money, and in my desolation I knew no source from which to expect any. Yet I was spirit-bound to stand still and wait on God for deliverance. At length all my old feelings of reliance on friends and carefulness about money affairs were worked out of inc. I could trust God quietly and with assurance that he would not fail me. Then I became conscious that my trials were finished, and that in some way I was Soon to return to New Haven.

Immediately a young man who had occasionally called upon me (being an old acquaintance from Vermont) came to my room, and after some desultory conversation observed seemingly in an incidental way that he thought of writing to my brother in New Haven. I looked sharply in his eyes and said to him:

"You are trying to deceive me. You think I am crazy, and you have already written to my brother to come and take care of me." Then he confessed that he had done so, and in his wonder at my detection of him was obliged to give up his notion of my insanity. On the day following Everard Benjamin of New Haven came to my room, paid my board, and took me with him to New Haven. After reaching New Haven I learned with some surprise that Abigail Merwin went to New York with her brother-in-law, Benjamin, and returned

Thus closed a series of trials which, though they seemed grievous while present and left me long afterwards almost without a remnant of a reputation, nevertheless manifestly worked the peaceable fruits of righteousness, established me in the liberty of the truth, weaned me from all earthly resources, enlarged my acquaintance with the spiritual world, confirmed the strength of my intellect, and gave to my body a vigorous power of endurance which it had never possessed before and which fitted it for subsequent labors and trials. "It is a small thing that I should be judged of man's judgment" to have been either sinful, foolish, or insane in the experiences which I have related. I look back upon them not with shame or self-reproach, but with gratitude to God.

When Noyes reached New Haven on June i₃th, he was received by his Perfectionist friends with much kindness, but with evident suspicions as to his sanity. Definite word that he was crazy had been sent to Putney from New York, and the family were exceedingly anxious. They wrote to Horatio, who had recently been converted to Perfectionism at New Haven, urging him to let them know the worst immediately. Horatio replied June 17th as follows:

"Dear sister Mary:

"John came here from New York last Friday. I hardly knew what to make of his long silence, but since he has been here be has satisfactorily explained it. It would take me a long time to tell you what little I know about his proceedings at New York. I shall therefore say nothing about them more than this, which I have often said: You may be sure that he has been in the Lord's hands, and that lie has not been suffered to do anything which will bring reproach upon the cause of Christ. He expects now to go home next week. When be sees you, he probably will be able to satisfy all your doubts as to his sanity. Till then, be patient.

"I have been tried in this affair considerably, and

On the 18th Mrs. Noyes wrote thus to Horatio

"I guess John has been no comfort to you, and that he is pretty well broken down. I hope he will come home to Mother as soon as possible. I think he must need her soothing influence. He must expect to listen to the voice of parental love and solicitude. I shall not give up my confidence in his ardent piety and filial gratitude till I see him. I hope he will not think of coming home on foot, but be here by the quickest conveyance bag and baggage. He must not think of doing ready to do all that is reasonable, and he must he reasonable. Let me know everything. I am not fearful, without assistance from his parents. His father is while I am conscious of having done my duty. Whatever John may think, I hope you, Horatio, will never allow yourself to think that you can dispense with any precept of the Bible."

About the end of June Noyes went to Putney. In a letter to Horatio dated July 2nd he says:

"My arrival at home, as you may well suppose, was a pleasant event to the family. Rumors of my fantastic performances in New York had preceded me, and Father had given up all hope of me. The rest of the family were in great suspense and tribulation, and the good people of our neighborhood had begun to avoid

mentioning my name in their presence for fear of hurting their feelings. At first I found some difficulty in regaining the confidence even of my kindred. For a day or two some of them hid their faces from me; hut at length the Lord gave me favor in their sight, and now everything is pleasantly adjusted. I went to Chesterfield the first day after my arrival and quieted Mary's fears."

Much curiosity was expressed, wherever Noyes was known, in regard to his New York experience, and many exaggerated stories were put in circulation. Noyes related his adventures without reserve. He says he was conscious of innocence and of a sound mind, and it seemed to him a trifling thing that he should he for the present an object of ridicule and pity to his acquaintances.

While Noyes was in New York the leaders of the Free Church at New Haven dismissed Boyle from his pastorship. At this Benjamin and the other Perfectionist members of the Free Church voluntarily seceded, hired a room, and commenced independent services with Boyle in charge. These proceedings, Noyes says, were premature and led to a revulsion of feeling. The pecuniary support of the revolt fell mainly upon Benjamin, who was the only substantial householder among the Perfectionists at New Haven. Boyle and his wife were quartered on him, and others frequently gathered at his table. Disputes about money matters soon began, and at length there was a violent quarrel between Benjamin and Boyle. The difficulties at this time were aggravated by reports of Noyes's insanity, and the doings of a young man

 New Haven, July 18, 1834.
Dear Brother :- . . What think you, beloved? Benjamin and wife, Abigail Merwin and her brother have apostatized, not from the faith but from a profession of it, and have gone back to the Free Church. Mrs. Benjamin says most of those who profess holiness here do not live it, and thinks she may have sinned. She and her sister both say that as the doctrine has been preached free agency has been destroyed. I asked her if it was in heaven. She could say but little, and appeared to have an arrow in her heart. I pity them sincerely. Depend upon it, Noyes, the devil is an arch counterfeiter. He will deceive, if it were possible, the very elect. .

When Benjamin left, the Free Church men made a desperate push to demolish the whole fabric, but they found some trees of the Lord's planting. Those on the rock feel the foundation sure amid the dash of surrounding waters and the bellowings of the storm. It has been a great blessing to Brother Boyle and wife, Smith, Dudley, Horatio, the Newberrys and the sisters generally. It throws us upon God wholly. Brother and Sister Boyle have left Benjamin, and are now without a home. They will be seen to, however.

None of us have seen Miss Merwin or her brother since they declared off, as they are out at their home. If she has gone, as I suppose she has, she has been one of the devil's best counterfeits.
 

Now for the worst: Brother Lowrie has struck his colors and gone back to the Free Church. This is a hard blow truly. He got into a Jackson celebration on the Fourth of July, and celebrated the day in Jackson style, thinking he was doing God service. Now he has come to the conclusion that he sinned, and he abandons the eternal promise. Latourette, he says, is more nearly right than you, and if you had not taken the stand of never sinning again many would have come in. I have not learned that he did anything outrageous. He arose early, fired cannon, drank wine, took dinner, and went sailing. I do not think he sinned, but believe the devil made a fool of him. Poor fellow! He looks as though he had been hard pushed by the Prince of Murderers-is very thin and pale. If he has ever had the faith of Jesus, we know God will bring him forth as gold, but I do not like his present attitude.

With six apostasies you may well suppose the devil raises a shout. The Free Church men by their outbreaking joy show the tremendous pressure that has been upon them. Avery carries his head still higher and shoots out the lip. All the theological class doubtless breathe more freely.
 

Noyes remained at Putney about a month. Hiss family had become interested in Perfectionism as a result of letters he had written when he first came into the faith. They had also been favorably impressed by Horatio, who had recently spent a vacation at home. In a letter to Horatio dated July 2, 1834, Noyes describes the situation:

''Our sisters are yet unbelievers. But they have ceased to quarrel with the truth, and I think the Lord is showing them its beauty. Harriet has just returned from school. Her mind is evidently greatly exercised on the subject, and she proposes to devote this day to a solemn and earnest search for the truth. Mother believes herself delivered from sin, and rejoices in the Lord; yet I think she is in some sense a captive still. I have asked the Lord most earnestly to take the veil from before her eyes, and I believe he will soon. Father is much interested in the views of truth which I present, and makes few objections. The gospel we have received accords better with his habits of thought and practice than any of the creed-built systems; and I am by no means without hope that he will at last in his old age enter the kingdom of heaven without taking the circuitous route through Judaism."
 

"At a small conference meeting which I attended the chairman, Deacon Reynolds, requested me to make some remarks. I complied, but purposely avoided saying anything on the subject of perfection. I spoke of the 'exceeding sinfulness of sin' in terms not unusual in the churches. In the midst of my remarks Mr. Grout, a leading member of the church, arose and interrupted me, saying with much heat that he thought it 'very improper that Mr. Noyes should introduce his new sentiments among them, when he knew they were opposed to them.' I answered that I was not aware that the exceeding sinfulness of sin was a new doctrine in the church. Mr. Grout appealed to the chairman, and the chairman decided that I was out of order. I sat down quietly. But from that time I considered myself excommunicated. Five years after this affair Mr. Grout in a private interview voluntarily confessed to me that he did wrong in his treatment of me at the conference meeting, that it had lain on his con-

The only inroad Noyes made on the churches during this visit at Putney was in the case of Silas Morgan, the village blacksmith. One day when Noyes happened to be at the blacksmith's shop, Morgan, a zealous, combative Methodist, started a dispute on the subject of perfect holiness. Noyes quietly took from his pocket the little polyglot Bible, which he always carried with him, and expounded the Scripture so effectually that Morgan, completely dumbfounded, became an inquirer, and before the interview ended professed himself saved from sin. From that time he was a warm friend of Noyes and at a later period did much valuable service in arranging meetings and procuring subscribers for the forthcoming Perfectionist paper.

Before we embraced Perfectionism Boyle, Dutton and I had discussed the plan of publishing a paper. We had gone beyond the standard even of the revivalists, and there was no paper published the tone of which satisfied us. When we became Perfectionists the plan was revived, and it seemed more than ever necessary. For a time the undertaking was held back by the withdrawal of the pecuniary assistance of the apostates, Benjamin and Lowrie, who were men of means; but while I was at New Haven in June we ascertained that Whitmore & Buckingham, the printers with whom I had dealt before, would print for us, and shortly after my arrival at Putney I received the following
 

Ultimately I thought it best to return to New Haven. Starting about the end of July I stopped a few days at Hartford, where Boyle had recen4y preached with great effect. Here I made the acquaintance of David Harrison, who became a lifelong friend.

On resuming my journey to New Haven by stage I found myself seated by the side of a grave, elderly gentleman, who proved to be Dr. Cogswell, a clergyman. He observed, as we were starting, that he had heard there was a strange sort of people called Perfectionists in Meriden, and said: "I should like right well to see one of them." Probably I should have disclosed my own profession immediately, had I not been interrupted by a lady on the seat opposite who announced that she was from New Haven and knew all about the Perfectionists. She went on to describe them as monsters of impiety, and concluded with the following home-thrust: "As for that John Noyes, I know that he is nothing less than a blasphemer, for he said in a public meeting that he was as perfect as God, and my own sister heard him." On hearing this it struck me that it would be well to let the lady go on

There was at the tune of which I am speaking a schoolmaster in New Haven named Amos Smith, a man of eccentric manners, much devoted to his profession, and strongly charged with the peculiar spirit which that profession sometimes generates. He loved above all things to rule boys, and thence naturally to rule every one whom he could bring into subjection. His spirit was strong, his will unspeakably obstinate, his knowledge of human nature on a small scale unusually complete. The mysterious and sometimes hideous rolling of his eyes and the strange working of his widespread fingers, his only gesture ,gave an air of half-inspiration to his arguments and exhortations, which immensely increased his power over many minds.

This man had been connected with the Free Church, and was somewhat distinguished for his spirituality. When Perfectionism appeared, he manifested considerable interest in it. lie did not decidedly embrace our views, nor did he directly oppose them, but lie assumed a paternal or pedagogical care over them. As my will was the nearest match for his and therefore most likely to give him trouble, it was with no little satisfaction that lie saw my supposed shipwreck in New York; and ever afterward he made it his business to fasten upon me like an iron manacle the charge of insanity.

While I was at Putney, Boyle and Dutton came into a state of partial dependence on this man. Boyle received much of his maintenance from him after the

I took lodgings with Dutton, and boarded with Boyle, and soon commenced a warfare with Smith. I pressed him with the naked truth in relation to holiness, and he thrust at me the usual insinuations and accusations of legalists, always adding venom by repeating and enlarging upon the proofs of my insanity. He brought one charge against Dutton and myself, which I found exceedingly difficult to answer. He said that he had studied the mental habits of young men extensively, and plainly perceived that our minds were in a state of dissipation. Now I was distinctly conscious of intellectual habits quite different from those to which I had been bred in academic life. The tension of mind, which had been enforced by classical and legal discipline, was certainly relaxed, and judged

My struggle with Smith was one of the severest I ever had. Day after day we wrestled as for life. I made no impression on his obstinacy; but I had the satisfaction of seeing Boyle and Dutton loose themselves from his hold. They soon stood erect again as the witnesses of holiness and liberty, and we girded ourselves for the work of publication in the face of Smith's entreaties and remonstrances.

We had some difficulty in selecting a name for the paper. Several equivocal titles were proposed by Boyle and Dutton. I insisted that our true policy was to hoist our colors boldly, and proposed the name "Perfectionist." This proposal was objected to at first, but was finally adopted unanimously.

The first number was issued on the 20th of August 1834, and thenceforward a number was published on
 

That six months was on the whole one of the most interesting seasons of my life. My heart was for the most part at peace and well supplied with heavenly food. My mind was busy with glorious and ever-expanding views of truth. The correspondence of the paper and its growing popularity and success furnished matter of constant and lively external interest. The meetings and other forms of intercourse of believers in New Haven were refreshing.

In writing for the paper I took much pleasure and found much profit. The "dissipation of mind," of which Amos Smith accused me, made it difficult for me to write in the old mechanical, sermonizing way; but I soon learned to follow instead of force the flow of my thoughts, and by waiting for what poets call the "moment of inspiration" I wrote with more satisfaction to myself than I ever did under the discipline of the schools. Boyle deputed me to write the "Introduction" for the first number, and usually chose a discourse from my pen for the leading article in each of the subsequent numbers so long as I remained in New Haven.

Boyle and I were generally agreed in our views at

On several occasions at this period he gave indications of that tendency to false fellowships which after-

Notwithstanding these occasional and incipient differences, on the whole we worked well together. I rejoiced much in the service which he did for the cause. Though I could not but be aware that he was in reality following me in the truth, I was very willing that he should have what his external position and his inclination conspired to give him, the name of being the leader. I knew that, if he proved true to God, he would do me no injustice and, if he proved false, "a lie would not last forever." I sincerely loved him and gloried in his growing influence.

It was toward the end of this period that Edwin Stillman, a Baptist theological student at New Haven, embraced the doctrine of holiness. The manner of his conversion was this: He had talked with Lovett, and had invited him to call with me on a certain day. I went with Lovett, and found at Stillman's room two Baptist clergymen, one the pastor of a church in New Haven and the other a prominent theologian from another part of Connecticut. The latter engaged me in a dispute about holiness, which soon became warm. He was arrogant and insulting. At length I told him in the plainest terms that he was full of priestcraft, that he could not speak the truth, that he was a "solid

 The Perfectionist paper gave a great impetus to the cause of salvation from sin. Its influence was by no means measured by its nominal subscription list. It was read in grocery-stores and post-offices and where-ever men and women assembled; and though it was quite generally tabooed by the ministers, it found its way into the homes of many of the cute among the church members. Fourteen years later when the Community gathered at Oneida, it was astonishing how many of the members had been brought into the faith either directly or indirectly by the paper published at New Haven. Thus in a short time the loss due to the defection of the converts from the Free Church was much more than made up.
 

New Haven, October 8, 1834.

Dear Father:-- I have received by Horatio your advice that I leave New Haven, if I am not getting a living. I think it evidently is the will of God, as it is my desire, that I should remain here for the present. Here I have employment in various ways, which I could not immediately have elsewhere. New Haven has become in some sort the center of business in the spiritual and intellectual world. We receive many visits from persons residing at a distance, who desire to understand the gospel, and opportunities are continually presenting themselves of circulating far and wide the knowledge of Christ. The correspondence which is flowing in upon us in consequence of the paper is by no means small and will unquestionably increase. The monthly preparation of the paper is no great task, yet I am much interested in the work, and wish to devote my immediate personal attention to sustaining its interest so long as the Lord shall permit its publication. Also I find it profitable to visit occasionally the several companies of believers which have been established at Prospect, Meriden. and other

As to getting my living the case stands thus: Money is sometimes offered me by those who love the truth, but I say to them: "I have no occasion for it at present. My father has supplied me. Give it to Brother Boyle or Dutton, who need it more." I should unquestionably be supported as they are, if it were under-stood that J desired it. As it is I have received a little money and many offers of a home at Prospect and Meriden, which I should accept if constrained to leave this city. Room rent and furniture have cost me nothing thus far and probably will not during the winter. My expense for boarding with Mr. Boyle will be as small as the case will allow, probably about $2.00 per week.

It is now two years since I have had any claim upon you for support on the ground of relationship. What you have given I have received as a gratuity with thankfulness both to you and to my Father in heaven. If you are not interested in the object for which I live, I cannot ask or expect you to assist me. That object is that the will of God may be done on earth as it is in heaven. If the object is a good one and you consider me a person fitted to further it, you will not account money bestowed upon me as thrown away. It will not perhaps yield a profit so immediate and tangible as that of bank stock, but it will help the

building of that kingdom in which you hope to dwell forever, and into which the kings of the earth shall bring their glory. . . .

Your son, J.H. Noyes.
 

New Haven, Nov. 2, 1834.

Dear Mother:--. . . As to going home, though

I would rejoice to see you and for my own personal comfort would be glad to remain with you, yet many reasons forbid it for the present. Besides, if Father fears to involve himself in my doings, the same objection will lie against my living upon him at home as abroad; for you may be sure I shall never rest till the righteousness of God shall go forth as brightness and his salvation as a lamp that burneth. You must hedge up Jesus Christ, if you check me. May the Lord give you all grace to say, Amen.

Yours affectionately, J. H. NOYES.
 

Dear sister Elizabeth -I exceedingly marvel at your letter, as I have for a long time at the course which Mother and some others of my kindred have pursued in relation to me. Let me ask now kindly and frankly and once for all, Am I a boy or a man? Am I sane or crazy? Am I a wretch or a servant of God? If you think me a boy, or crazy, or a reckless apostate, I commend your course, and only ask you to use care in forming your opinion of me. After that,

Think you I would not rejoice to go home and spend my days with you in peace, if God would show me the way? Or think you that all the solicitations of all my friends on earth and all the malice of men and devils in hell will induce me to go home while the Lord does not show me the way? I verily think you are as anxious about me as if there were no God, whose wisdom and love is engaged for your welfare and mine. I ask Mother and all who sympathize with her in her solicitude to inquire carefully before God whether such solicitude is not selfishness. You write of being in a state of painful "suspense about me. And wherefore in suspense? I can but judge from some expressions of your letter as well as from some experimental knowledge of human nature in general, that you are painfully suspending your judgment of my character and of the truth for which I suffer on the question whether Perfectionism will prevail and be a popular cause. If this be so, if you are waiting for results and not looking at truth, nothing but sor-
 

As to want of money, while God withholds it I want it not. Yet my present situation, as stated in my last letter, is one which I should once have counted

You will all think this a strange and perhaps a perverse letter. Receive it as it is written in the exercise of that charity "which thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth." I was very sorrowful last night while remembering Mother's

grievous cares and sickness, and prayed that she might know the fullness of him "who is our peace." I know full well, if this letter does not cure her, it will trouble her. I commit the result to the Lord.

Write me all your mind soon.

Your brother, J. H. NOYES.

 
New Haven, Dec. 2, 1834.

Dear Mother :-- I see by your letter to Horatio you have not quite given me up yet. Therefore I will counsel you again to follow the footsteps of Abraham, the father of believers. Faith is the same now as it was in Abraham's day in respect to its nature. The God of Abraham will not shrink from rending asunder every earthly relation. If he bids me leave my kindred and go out not knowing whither, I am content. May he teach you in everything to give thanks.

By my last letter you understand my circumstances and purposes. The course I have chosen diverges widely from my father's plans and, as I am assured the Lord will never require or suffer me to change that course, we may as well now as ever part in peace. I have paid Horatio a part of the money I borrowed of him, and shall soon pay the remainder and borrow no more. I now owe but a few dollars in this city or elsewhere and, the Lord prospering my plans, I shall be free next week. Thereafter, unless some other way is opened, I shall leave this city and cast myself on the providence of God for employment and support. Brother Boyle, not "having abjured the faith" but holding it unwaveringly in the midst of calumny and

As you desired to know my plans, I have told you all I know at present. Perhaps before tomorrow everything will be changed. I live by no sure rule of calculation except the faithfulness of God. Therefore, if you would have peace so far as I am concerned, you must make no calculation other than that. . .

It will be remembered that Noyes in his original approach to the doctrine of salvation from sin made use of an historical argument. In the early numbers of The Perfectionist he reached the same conclusion by bringing into view the distinction between the so-called "old" and "new" covenants as described in the Bible, and in elucidating the subject from this angle he deduced two principles, security and freedom from law, which, vaguely apprehended at first but now clearly defined and incorporated in the conception of salvation from sin, had a marked influence on the course of events during the next three years.

The idea of security undoubtedly fitted in better with Noyes's temperament than the Wesleyan doctrine of the possibility of a "fall from grace." The same tendency, which we have observed, to do nothing by halves, to follow up every principle to its logical ultimate conclusion, led him first to seek entire freedom from sin instead of partial freedom, and then to believe that salvation from sin once attained was forever secure. Accordingly we find the germ of the doctrine of security expressed in his first written description of his experience as a Perfectionist. Jn his letter to his mother dated February 24, 1834, he

Although Noyes was aware that the Wesleyans generally rejected the doctrine of security, he was at first under the impression that the New York Perfectionists believed as he did on this important question. He found, however, during his sojourn in New York in May 1834 that this was not the case. On that occasion he discussed the doctrine of security with Latourette, the leader of the New York Perfectionists, and was violently repulsed by him on account of it. A little later at New Haven he had an interview with John B. Foot, one of the leaders of the Albany Perfectionists, and Chauncey Dutton, whose sister was a member of the Albany group and whose conversion to Perfectionism had recently bcen brought about by Foot. In this interview for the first time the doctrine of security came up for discussion between him and the Albany Perfectionists. Foot immediately rejected the doctrine, not indeed so violently as Latourette had done, but decisively. Dutton on the other hand promptly embraced it, saying to Foot: "This is just what I have wanted from the beginning. Whv did you not teach this?" Foot and Dutton then declared that all the New York Perfectionists were followers of Wesley on the question of security, and this statement was confirmed six months later, when the doctrine was fiercely denounced by the New York Perfectionists in their convention at Canastota.

The doctrine of security, however, was adopted by Boyle as well as Dutton, and soon became the accepted

 We find in the Bible as well as in the nature of the case three modifications of perfect holiness: perfection in present obedience, perfection in security of obedience, and perfection in experience or suffering. .

1. The holiness of Adam and of the angels that left their first estate was perfect considered simply as present obedience to the law, but destitute of prospective security, as was proved by their apostasy.

2. The holiness of Christ was perfect both as present obedience to law and as prospectively secure. Yet in another sense it was imperfect during his life on earth, for "though he were a Son yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered; and being made perfect he became the author of eternal salvation to all them that obey him"; "for it became him .

in bringing many sons unto glory to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings." So Paul, while counting all things but loss that he might overcome death by knowing the fellowship of Christ's sufferings, denied that he had already attained the victory or was already perfect; and yet in the next breath falling back upon an inferior meaning of the word he could say: "Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded."

3. The present holiness of Christ on the throne of his glory and of those, who having overcome by his blood have attained that likeness of his resurrection

Perfectionists, if they may be allowed to designate the place which they hold on the scale of perfection, universally claim to stand with Paul on the middle ground between the perfection of Adam and of Christ-saved from sin, eternally saved, yet "saved by hope," waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of their bodies.

Finally in The Perfectionist for December 20, 1834, Noyes thus defended the doctrine of security:

The new covenant secures salvation from sin forever. Salvation from sin in the proper signification of the expression is salvation from sin forever. What-ever interrupts everlasting holiness surely is sin, and he that ever falls into sin can scarcely be said to have been saved from sin. Certainly he was not saved from the worst of all sins, apostasy. We observe therefore on this point that the contrast instituted between the old covenant and the new decisively shows that the latter secures salvation from sin forever. "Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah; not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers, in the day when J took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt; because they continued not in my covenant, and I regarded them not, saith the Lord." It is plain that the deficiency of the old covenant was the fact that one party continued not in it, which deficiency by the terms of

the contrast was not to exist in the new one. "This is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, saith the Lord; I will put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts; and I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people." Under the first covenant he declared only, 'I will be to them a God, if they will be to me a people." They sinned against him and the covenant became unprofitable. Under the second covenant he engages for the faithfulness of both parties. "I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people"; for "I will write my laws on their hearts."

 The other principle, which was at this time incorporated in Noyes's conception of salvation from sin, was that of freedom from law. In the earlier letters describing his new experience Noyes scarcely mentioned the law, but for a time he instinctively avoided the self-condemnation which his former attitude toward the law would have brought upon him. During his strange experience in New York City in May 1834 he suddenly found himself in a desperate battle with legality. He began to see that the law, if allowed its former authority, was an intolerable burden; worse vet, it interfered with sympathetic relations between man and God, and thus undermined the very citadel of justification. By a struggle which cost him not only severe suffering but nearly all his friends, lie won the victory over legality in his own heart. When he returned to New Haven a few months later, he found that Boyle and Dutton under the influence of the legalist, Amos Smith, had already lost their sense

published in two articles in The Perfectionist, which can only be summarized here:

 Righteousness can only be wrought in one of two ways: either by independent obedience to an external precept, or by yielding the powers to the energy and direction of God by faith in Christ. Before Christ came, by whom the righteousness of faith was revealed, legality was not, neither could it be, necessarilv evil. On the contrary the preceptive law was an institution of God, and the righteousness which it wrought was encouraged and regarded by him. The law stands in the same relation to the gospel as John the Baptist to Christ. So far as legalists adopt the confession of John the Baptist, "lie must increase but I must de-

crease," "There cometh after me one, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose," all is right. But when the law stands side by side with the gospel, when John the Baptist commences competition with Christ, then all is wrong.
 

 The new covenant gives liberty from external law. This is implied in the contrast presented between the old and the new dispensation. The new covenant is "not according to the covenant" made with the house of Israel by the mediation of Moses. Under the old covenant the law was written on tables of stone. Under the new it is written in the heart. "I will put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts." External law of necessity supposes internal depravity. A law that men shall eat or sleep would be ridiculous, simply because all men are sufficiently disposed to eat and sleep. If men were sufficiently disposed to love God with the whole heart, a law requiring them to do so would be equally ridiculous. This disposition God promises by the new covenant to secure; and his promise abolishes his statute. Under the old covenant God said: "Do according to all I command you, and ye shall live." Under the new covenant, where its powers are fully developed, he may safely say: "Do as you please: for I promise that your pleasure shall be mine. I will write my law upon your hearts."

 Noyes believed that these two doctrines, security and freedom from law, presented the central idea of
 

"New York Perfectionism and New Haven Perfectionism," wrote Noyes, "may be regarded as twin products of the great religious revival which stirred the heart of the American nation in the fore part of the nineteenth century. New York Perfectionism was the elder by a few months, and like Esau was wild and barbaric; while New Haven Perfectionism like Jacob was more intellectual and civilized. These two schools of Perfectionists in their earlier years alternately fraternized and fought; and at last amalgamated in the Oneida Community."

As we have seen in a former chapter, the first person in this country who preached and professed salvation from sin was James Latourette. In about the year 1828 he broke away from established religious ideas, and became the leader of a considerable congregation in New York City. "His system," says Noyes, "was little more than Methodism of the most sublimated and noisy sort, his ruling passion being not for holiness but for signs and wonders and mighty deeds by prayer." Nevertheless he and his followers were called "Perfectionists," and on account of their singular manners and beliefs attained a good deal of notoriety. Latourette's immediate converts were

From New York City in about 1831 a colony of Perfectionists established itself at Albany, New York, under the leadership of John B. Foot and two sisters by the name of Annesley. This Albany group proved to be exceedingly virile, and became even more important as a distributing center than its parent colony. During 1832 and 1833 its missionaries went in every direction, and numerous Perfectionist colonies sprang up, the most notable being those at Westfield, Southampton, and Brimfield in Massachusetts, and at Delphi in Central New York. Nor must it be forgotten that letters written to Chauncey Dutton by his sister Eliza, a member of the Albany group, were among the agencies that converted Noyes to Perfectionism at New Haven.

In the counties of central New York, which had been "burnt over" by the Finney revivals, Perfectionism found a soil exactly adapted to its needs, and here at Delphi was developed a third distributing center. Hiram Sheldon began the movement in the spring of 1833, and his followers, traveling two and two like the disciples of Christ, made converts where-ever they went. Most prominent among these were Martin P. Sweet and Jarvis Rider of Deruyter, Erasmus Stone of Salina,* and David A. Warren of Verona. Within a year Perfectionist congregations

__________

* The name of this town was later changed to "Syracuse." -G. W. N.

A further impetus to the spread of Perfectionism in this region was given in August 1834 when The Perfectionist began to be published at New Haven. As an illustration of this David A. Warren writes September 7th:

"A copy of the first number of The Perfectionist was sent to the Oneida Institute in Utica, at which place there is a great anxiety manifested with regard to this subject. The paper, to use the expression of my informant, went through the Institute like lightning. They are very anxious to see me and hear me preach."

Toward the end of the summer of 1834 Charles H. Weld, whose father lived at Quality Hill, near Oneida, New York, spent several weeks in that vicinity. Writing from there September 9, 1834, he says:

"I have been unobtrusively visiting several places in Oneida and Madison Counties, calling upon perfection brethren and others-ministers and leading members of the churches. The Lord has blessed me exceedingly, has prepared the way before me, and has enabled me, I believe, to benefit very much many of the brethren, who were 'seeing men as trees walking' and in consequence of intellectual mistakes were almost
 

Illustrations of the spirit and methods of the New York Perfectionist leaders and the preparedness of mind for their work may be seen in the following extracts from the correspondence of the period:

C. E. Dutton to J. Boyle) Dec. 1834: I have been west to Cortland County. All Babylon is in commotion there. I preached Christ in much contention at times. The church in G is broken in fragments. All the spiritual part have come into the faith of Jesus. Their pastor raves like a devil in chains. Ten men were excommunicated from his church while I was there, and he has much more work on hand.

Our "new measure" ministers are more concerned about keeping what they have got than promoting revivals to get more. I preached a few weeks since at C . The Lord has a few chosen there and although the ministers rage, yet the Lord wrings from the laymen the testimony that these things are true. A deacon of Dr. Y 's church was at the meeting. He had been the man that Babylon had looked to in the time of her distress to fight her tormentors, the Perfectionists. He was an able man, and in his frequent contests with the heretics had learned to steer close by the wind, to avoid being raked. He would testify, when pressed, that he was free from condemnation.

He followed me home from the meeting, as he afterwards said, to give me battle. The Lord gave me wisdom and power, and for the first time he was stripped naked and perfectly confounded. He sat an hour or two with his face in his hands, struggling with pride, and then attempted to leave, it being past midnight, but dared not. He finally said: "I take the Christ and suffer the consequences." He found the well of life. It was a proud triumph of the living Cod, and Babylon felt the blow at her remotest border.

The devil is making his greatest effort in this quarter, in pushing his saints to testify to holiness under the law. L M stands at the head of the line, and he and his followers are doing the devil an important service. The Lord is doing a great work by the paper, both in strengthening the saints and in confounding Babylonians.

David A. Warren at Verona, New York, to J. Boyle, March 29, 1835. [Having described his examination by the Association of ministers which had licensed him to preach, Warren continues] : "After the examination had closed, the motion was made and seconded to depose Brother Warren. The first delegate called upon, who was reputed to be as pious as any among them, rose and said, he should not vote; he saw more of the spirit and temper of Christ in that man than he saw in himself; he thought the Bible warranted him in the ground he took, and he was prepared to go almost all the way with him himself. The next one called upon declined voting for the same reasons. The Moderator seeing this course would not do remarked:

M.P. Sweet at Genoa New York, to J. Boyle, July 1835: I arrived in this town yesterday, and have had sweet communion with some of the dear children of God who reside here. . . . I am greatly rejoiced at the progress of the work of the Lord. A spirit of inquiry is abroad in the land. . . . I have been recently in Owasco and the adjoining towns preaching Christ a savior from sin. Multitudes attend, many hear and assent to the truth, while some few live it. I attended a meeting of the holy brethren in Owasco. It was held in an orchard. An immense concourse of people were present-one to two thousand persons from fifteen and twenty miles about. Yet in so great a crowd there was scarcely an act to interrupt the order of the meeting, and an almost breathless attention was given to the word of life. I am about to leave here for Newark, Wayne County.

John Smith at Genoa, New York, to J. Boyle, July 1835: Your letter came to my family during my absence on a visit to the saints in Deruyter, Delphi, Cazenovia, Smithfield, Augusta, Verona, Chittenango, Canastota, Manlius, Salina, etc. Brothers Mead and Randall accompanied me. It was the most delightful visit I ever made. To see the family likeness and the teachings of the same blessed Jesus, though under great
 

When the New York and New Haven schools of Perfectionists first met, in the interview between Latourette and Noyes that has been described, antagonism flashed forth and it seemed as if reconciliation would be impossible. Nevertheless, when the New Haven leaders started The Perfectionist, the New York brethren quite generally approved and gave their support. Latourette himself subscribed for ten copies of the paper, and all the prominent colonies of Perfectionists in New York and Massachusetts gladly received and circulated it. But as the New Haven Perfectionists proceeded in the development of their characteristic doctrines-the second coming, security, freedom from law, aversion to asceticism-the New York Perfectionists were again roused to opposition.

Reports came to New Haven of the dissatisfaction of Sheldon, Foot and the Annesleys with the "carnal theorizing" and "worldly wisdom" of The Perfectionist. Presently Latourette canceled his whole subscription, and called the paper "The Delusionist." At length in a general convention of the New York Perfectionists held at Canastota, New York, January I, 1835, the doctrines of the New Haven school were fiercely denounced. Dutton, who attended, returned to New Haven with the report that both he and the paper had been "ridden over rough-shod."

But not even the denunciations and disclaimers of the Canastota Convention were able to break completely the affiliations between the two sorts of Perfectionists. The next step was an attempt on the part of the New York Perfectionists to convert the New Haven brethren from their obnoxious ideas. Simon Lovett, a prominent member of the New York group, came to New Haven in January 1835 to set Noyes right. He immediately entered into a discussion of the disputed points, but instead of converting Noyes to his views, it was not long before he himself was converted to the views of Noyes; and he became forthwith a forward champion of the very doctrines he had come to combat.

After the failure of the New York Perfectionists' mission to Noyes, Lovett led Noyes back on a mission to the New York Perfectionists. The believers who lived in Southampton and Brimfield, Massachusetts, had originally received the faith from the Misses Annesley of Albany, New York. They had, however, responded with more than usual intelligence and enthu-

Freedom from sin according to Noyes's definition had two essential components, right intent and intelligence. Since these internal monitors might conflict with external freedom from sin without freedom from external law was a contradiction in terms. Hence Noyes and his followers, though brought up in the strictest school of New England morality, declared themselves "free from law." But here a new danger appeared. In escaping from law many of the Perfectionists, like the mediaeval mystics, fell into antinomianism. Antinomianism is the assumption of freedom from the external law of spoken or writ-ten statutes while not yet under the internal law of the heart and mind. It takes different forms according to the temperamental susceptibilities of its subjects. In those inclined to sensuality it takes the form of lasciviousness; in those whose leading trait is self-esteem the form of anti-organization; in those of an indolent disposition the form of passivism. During the prevalence of the antinomian aberration in I835-36 it seemed as though the cause of salvation from sin would he completely given over to anarchy and imbecility. But the Perfectionists, unlike the mediaeval

mystics, did not abandon the principle of freedom from law. "The Reformers," said Noyes, "swam out a little way into the stream of spiritual experience, and finding it full of serpents and crocodiles swam back as fast as they could. I swam out and encountered these monsters, but I killed them with my bowie knife and came out on the other side." The Perfectionists were brought gradually to the conviction that even the spiritually-minded in the present stage of human development needed to be restrained by moral forces which, though consistent with personal freedom, were nevertheless in effect equivalent to law. Such forces they found in voluntary subjection to leadership and to mutual instruction. Thus they held on their course and, as we shall see in Chapter XXXVII, were ultimately able to run the line between salvation from sin and legality on the one side, salvation from sin and antinomianism on the other.

About the first of February 1835 Lovett and I set our faces toward Massachusetts. At Southampton I was well received. All hearts were open. The drift of my operations was to clear the field of legality, and introduce the doctrines of security and the second coming. The Annesleys had connected with the doctrine of holiness that sort of Methodist legality, of which Latourette set the pattern. Praying and "pumping" for spiritual life was the order of the day. The following anecdote may serve as an illustration of the

course I pursued: At a social meeting in a private house it was proposed that we should "pray all round." Accordingly all knelt before their chairs, and entered upon a series of good old "new measure' petitions. My place was near the end of the series. When my turn came to pray, my words were as follows: "0 Lord, we thank thee that thou hast given us all that we need, and we don't want anything more. Amen." Thereupon the whole circle burst into a laugh, and arose from their knees. That was the end of formal praying among Perfectionists at Southampton.

After a week or two Lovett and I went to Brimfield. I found the Perfectionists there prejudiced against important teachings of the New Haven school, and I preached what I believed among them with much zeal and some contention. Their leader, Tertius Strong, succumbed to my reasonings, and soon the doctrines of the second coming and what we called the "eternal promise were received on all sides with great enthusiasm. I left them in the midst of this enthusiasm, and went on my way to Vermont. Lovett remained at Brimfield, and from him and others I afterward learned the following facts:

Two days after I left, C. E. Dutton arrived from Albany. The excitement increased. Finally it assumed a social and fanatical form. Mary Lincoln and Maria Brown, the leaders among the girls, made their way at midnight to Simon Lovett's room. The purpose of this visit, so far as understood, was by no means carnal. On the contrary it was intended as a crowning demonstration of the spirit triumphing over the flesh; but, as usually happens in such presumpt-

I was so near being actually present at this affair, and so liable to be thought responsible for it and implicated in it, that I must now tell more particularly how and why I left Brimfield. From my first contact with the Massachusetts clique of Perfectionists at Southampton I had been aware of a seducing tendency to freedom of manners between the sexes. The expressions "brother," "sister," "beloved," "dearly beloved" were in common use. One young woman kissed Simon Lovett the first time she ever saw him. At Brimfield there was a group of handsome, brilliant young women, and manners were equally free. By my position as preacher of the doctrines which had taken all by storm I was the object of attentions, which were seemingly innocent but which I soon began to suspect as dangerous. Finally one evening at a social gathering around William Tarbell's fire his daughter, Hannah, in the midst of the general cheerfulness seemed downcast. I asked her what made her

I confess that I sympathized to some extent with the spirit of the first letters that came to me about this affair, and sought to shelter rather than to condemn the young women who appealed to me against the storm of scandal which they had brought upon themselves. But in the sequel, as the irregularities continued and passed on into actual licentiousness and finally into propagandism, I renounced all sympathy with them, and did my best in subsequent years to stamp them out by word and deed.

The "bundling" at Brimfield began during the first week of March 1835. Ten days later Dutton and Lovett left for Southampton, where they lodged with Dr. Gridley, a leading man among the Perfectionists there. Shortly afterward they were joined by Mary Lincoln. One of the first to advance into the new freedom was the wife of Dr. Gridlev. The Doctor, we are told, remained "waiting on the Lord without opposing," though as yet unconvinced.

During this visit Marv Lincoln decided that Dutton

From Southampton Dtitton went into New York State, while Lovett made a circuit of towns in Massachusetts. On his return to Southampton Lovett was joined by Maria Brown and Hannah Tarbell of Brim-field. Mrs. Gridley's brother, a young man by the name of Searl, now came into the "gospel liberty," as they called it. Dr. Gridley, too, having put aside all scruples, boldly espoused the movement, and for a number of years his house was the scene of scandalous practices, in which he took a leading part.

Not long after this Dr. Gridley and Mr. Searl set out to visit Brimfield. While on the road they were assailed by a mob of young men on horseback, among whom was a brother of Mary Lincoln. They were beaten with clubs, and Mr. Searl had holes cut through his overcoat and coat. With violent threats the men rode away.

The social excitement, which had started at Brim-field, was communicated next to New Haven. Lovett and Dutton mingled with the Perfectionists there, and a run of spiritual mating followed. Lovett himself claimed Abby Fowler of New Haven as his spiritual mate, and married her. After her death he married Abby Brown of Brimfield under a similar claim.

Meanwhile the gospel of irresponsible freedom was being communicated by letters to Perfectionists in more distant parts. Tertius Strong of Brimfield corresponded with Jesse and Rhoda Mudgett of Cam-

At Delphi in Central New York Lucina Umphreville, a fascinating young Perfectionist, had been teaching that carnal union was not to be tolerated even in marriage, while spiritual union whether in or out of the marriage relation represented a high state of attainment. Consequently the news from Brimfield and the report of Erasmus Stone's vision found the Perfectionists at Delphi ready for a Platonic modification of the spiritual wife theory. Lucina herself was joined in spiritual union with Jarvis Rider, a Perfectionist preacher, and in the spring of 1836 at a Perfectionist convention held at Canaseraga they came out boldly in advocacy of these principles. Not long after this Maria Brown of Brimfield visited the Perfectionists of Central New York, and soon the Platonic friendships became Antonian. Jonathan Burt tells the story thus:

"Rider had made a large number of converts, among them Thomas Chapman and wife. Chapman and I were engaged during the summer digging the Chenango Canal. During Chapman's absence not only

Rider had lived at his house but also Lucina Umphreville, Charles Lovett and Maria Brown. Rider and Mrs. Chapman on the one hand, and Lovett and Lucina Umphreville on the other, became spiritually united and, as it afterward appeared by their own confession, entered into a carnal intimacy as well. The result was that Chapman on his return beat Rider with a horse-whip and kicked him out of his house. In the midst of this operation Chapman was taken blind. In consequence he desisted from his blows, and called Rider back into the house. I was present at this catastrophe. The termination of the affair was an entire alienation of Chapman from his wife and from Rider; and she, being of a delicate constitution, sank under the troubles that came upon her, and died soon after."
 

In his article on the "new covenant," from which we have already quoted, Noyes wrote:

"They shall not teach every man his neighbor, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord: for all shall know me, from the least to the greatest." The difference between the old and new covenants in this respect is, that outward is exchanged for inward operation. Under the Jewish dispensation Moses was the principal mediator between God and man. He an(l a few others in succeeding ages were permitted to draw nigh to God and receive from him instruction and commandments. But the mass of the people could not be said to know the Lord. Moses, groaning under the burden of his office, longed for a system of uni-

This idea, that the Christian stood in a direct spiritual relation with God and heeded no human leader or teacher, was exceedingly attractive to many of the early Perfectionists, and circumstances soon transpired which brought it into even greater prominence than was originally contemplated.

Theophilus R. Gates, the publisher of a paper in Philadelphia called The Reformer and Christian was first introduced to the New Haven Perfectionists by John B. Foot and Chauncey Dutton, who believed that some of his writings foreshadowed the rise of Perfectionism. Anti-organization had for more than twenty years been Gates's hobby. "Sects and parties," he wrote in 1812, "have been the ruin of all genuine religion in the world. . . . But, says one, what would become of people, if they were not under the restraint of some religious community? To this I answer, I have myself been several years without restraint from any society, and under the discipline of no one. I have not lacked anything; nor do I now feel any dis-

In the fall of 1834 there had been several complimentary exchanges of view between Gates and the Perfectionists. After Noyes's departure from New Haven at the end of January 1835 the relation became rapidly more intimate. Gates's leading idea, anti-organization, fell in with the prepossessions of Boyle and Weld, both of whom at the commencement of The Perfectionist had expressed themselves as strongly opposed to "sects, parties, and church organization"; and when Gates professed a deep interest in the Perfectionist doctrines, they heartily welcomed him as a brother in the faith.

The February number of The Perfectionist, the first that was published after Noyes's departure, contained an advertisement and commendation of Gates's paper by Boyle. The same number contained the first installment of a serial by Gates, which Boyle introduced with this editorial remark:

"On the last page will be found a pretty long extract taken from a work published by our much esteemed friend Gates twenty years ago, which he had the kindness to send us according to our request. We have seldom read a book with more interest than this, and we think that our readers will be equally interested and profited in reading this extract, and those which we expect hereafter to publish."

The interposition of any human element whatsoever between man and God was in Gates's view the primal sin. In The Perfectionist for February 20, 1835, he wrote:

"God never made one of the sects now existing. They have been devised, made and fashioned wholly by men. . . . Jt is only a proper designation, therefore, to call the present existing sects in Christendom the false gods of this day, for, though formed by men, they receive that attention, homage and esteem, which of right belong only unto God, and exercise an authority and a power solely the prerogative of God."

With this introduction the gathering chorus of protest against human teaching and human authority may be heard in the following typical extracts:

Article by Boyle in "The Perfectionist" February 20, 1835: We believe all sectarianism to be the work of carnal men, and that all who exert the least influence to uphold it or any of the existing sects are opposed to the kingdom and glory of Christ. . .We believe that no man or body of men have any authority to form churches, to license or ordain ministers, to send out missionaries, or to enact any rules for the government of the saints. These are the prerogatives of the only Lord God; and man by assuming them has exalted himself above God.

 Dutton to Boyle, April 1, 1835: Where is he who calls himself an apostle, a leader, a teacher in the kingdom? Let him learn what I have learned through the rich grace of God, that he is a fool, and knoweth nothing; that he has need to learn what be the first principles of the kingdom of our Father. Here we are the followers of the Lamb, and are all taught of God. Here we are receivers, and not givers-the bride, whom the Lamb alone is fully competent to educate.

Editorial by Boyle in "The Perfectionist" May 20, 1835 We can assure our readers that we entertain no predilection for the name "Perfectionist." At first we were greatly opposed to the adoption of this name, lest by so doing we should convey to others the false impression that we were, or were about to become an organized sect, which we know will never be. Perfectionists, so-called, stand as independent of each other as they do of any of the anti-christian churches. They will not be taught of each other, as they are "all taught of God": nor will they acknowledge any man as a leader, or teacher, or chief, or anything of the kind: they remember the words of Him who said, "One is your Master, even Christ : and all ye are brethren." Perfectionists differ among themselves on almost all points, except the great distinguishing one, viz., perfection in holiness through the blood of the everlasting covenant. If agreement in a single point, with the fellowship of spirit in God, without any' outward organization, any formal creed, any places or forms of external worship, any leaders, external rules, or combination of any kind can render us deserving of the hateful

Dutton to ATO yes, April 4, 1835: I have done receiving anything from the Bible, or from the hand of man. Nothing abides when the storm comes but what the Lord has taught.

After the opposition to human teaching had run to a certain length, the example of the apostle Paul began to be felt as an obstacle. Since his epistles abounded in exhortations, reproofs and instructions addressed to the churches under his care, it was a natural inference that he found a place in the church for human leadership in addition to the direct instructions of the Lord. This obstacle, however, was easily removed. Paul himself was a uman teacher, and his authority could properly be impeached by one who was "taught of God." Accordingly signs of restiveness against Paul are seen in Boyle as early as May 1835. Two months later Gates pushed on into definite and unqualified accusations. In October 1835 Boyle renewed the attack with increased vehemence. Finally in The Perfectionist for November 1835 Gates delivered a veritable home-thrust, including in his indictrnent not only Paul but the other apostles.

 If God had no need of human teachers for the instruction and guidance of his church, it was easy to believe that he had no need of human instrumentality in any capacity whatsoever. He could accomplish his ends by direct spiritual action, and man had only to sit passively by and "see the salvation of the Lord." The operation of this feeling among the early Perfectionists can be observed in the following extracts:

Article by Boyle in "The Perfectionist" October 20, 1834: Those who have committed soul, body and spirit, including of course their separate moral agency, to the perfect and eternal keeping of Christ have laid all the responsibility of their life and conduct upon his arm alone, and Christ in accepting the trust and in giving the pledge assumes the whole responsibility. If afterwards Satan regains the man or any part of him, Christ's character is ruined, and all confidence in him must cease forever.

Article by Noyes in "The Perfectionist" April 20, 1835: It is no part of the business of him who preaches this gospel to give directions for the conduct of believers after they believe. The faith of Jewish believers stimulated them to legal obedience. The faith of the gospel requires men to cease from their own works, to enter into rest. If I promise a man a reward at the end of a journey which I prescribe, faith in me will prompt him to the effort necessary to perform the journey. But if I promise him the same reward, and withal offer to carry him through the journey on the single condition of his committing him-

Edwin A. Stillman to Noyes, May 1, 1835:

There prevails a very general desire to attend our meetings, but we seldom hold any. The Lord is better to us than we are to ourselves. He does not intend that any of us shall stand in the wisdom of men.

Article by Boyle in "The Perfectionist" May 20, 1835: Why the missionaries to the heathen are not more successful:

1. Because they are the missionaries of jealous, ambitious, malevolent, and rival sects.

2. Because they go out depending upon such cor-rnptible things as silver and gold, and not upon the simple promise of Him who can not lie.

3. Because they depend upon presses, schools, kings, queens, chiefs, human laws, public opinion-upon a mass of human machinery and carnal management, and not upon the bare arm of the living God.

These passivistic teachings at length converged upon the object of discontinuing the paper. On April 10, 1835, Stiliman wrote to Noyes as follows:

"A letter has just been received from Marion, New York, the scene of Boyle's former labors, bringing very cheering news of the contagion of truth by means

__________

* When Noyes republished this article in The Berean in 1847, he omitted the paragraph quoted above.-G. W. N.

of the paper, and containing an urgent request for preachers of holiness. I am fully persuaded there is far too much leaning on the paper, as well as on one another. 'Cursed is he that maketh the arm of flesh his trust.' It seems to me that the paper does not point distinctly enough to Jesus. John the Baptist was doing the will of God as long as he continued to say, 'Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world.' Whenever the paper becomes a standard to be appealed to as authority, that moment it exalts itself against the Lord. The Lord in mercy to us grant that there may never be any man-made Perfectionists! The world has been cursed long enough by the religious offspring of human labor. Let us not add another to the list of abortions.

"Brother Weld has with him several letters from Mrs. Carrington. She seems to have been richly taught of God. . . . She utterly repudiates the idea of publishing the paper, and of 'preaching saints.'
 
By this time Boyle himself, though he had originally regarded the paper as a legitimate and necessary enterprise, had come to feel that it was a "piece of carnal management"-an "arm of flesh"-superfluous as a means of instruction, since believers were "all taught of God"-unnecessary as a means of spreading the gospel, since God could make use of miracle and mystic influence to compel belief. Accordingly, after a hint in the December number that discontinuance might become necessary, the paper dragged along through three more numbers, and then in March 1836 without any formal notice to the subscribers was dropped.