Noyes arrived in Putney from Brimfield at the end of February 1835,and remained at home about three months. The Noyes household at this time is thus described by Tirzah C. Miller, daughter of Noye's sister Charlotte:

"In a large, handsome, old-fashioned house, situated upon a graceful eminence overlooking the little village of Putney on the south, dwells' Squire Noyes with his wife and children. A rare group of locust trees of uncommon size and height gives to the place the name of 'Locust Grove.' The blue Connecticut runs through the valley a mile below, and the scenery far and near is characterized by the usual variety peculiar to the New England landscape.

'Squire Noyes a portly man of seventy, is still able to keep his accounts and look after the interests of his farm. Of a reticent nature and studious habits, never alluding in any familiar way to the thoughts and feelings connected with his affections, never going abroad except as business requires him to do so, and never allowing his children to inveigle him into wearing fashionably-cut clothes, he is nevertheless of a hospitable disposition, his well-stored mind and ready tongue enabling him to entertain by the hour the

guests who gather at his table. He has always been a great reader of books and newspapers, and being accurate and methodical and possessed of a powerful memory, he has one of those minds in which every newly-found fact, thought, or anecdote is carefully pigeon-holed and labeled, ready for use at a moment's notice.

"Mrs. Noyes, a tall, straight lady of about fifty-four, somewhat eccentric and independent in her ways, is considerably broken in health, so that she no longer takes much practical responsibility about household matters, but derives great enjoyment from the society of children and young people, and is never so happy as when guiding their modes of thought on moral and religious subjects. Generous and high-toned, fond of reading and conversation, she possesses in a great degree the faculty of drawing out others, and making them think well of themselves. She has also the rare trait so pleasing to children of never being too busy to answer all their eager questions and attend to their numerous demands for amusement.

"Mary, Elizabeth and Joanna, the three oldest daughters, are married and gone, though Joanna, who has not yet sailed for the West Indies, spends a part of her time at her father's. John has not yet settled at home. Horatio is in college at New Haven. Harriet, Charlotte and George, respectively eighteen, sixteen and twelve years of age, are all of the eight children who live continuously beneath the paternal roof.

"In the kitchen is Lovisa Darby, a most singular looking English woman of about fifty. Her airs and oddities are a continual source of amusement to Harriet and Charlotte, who 'take her off' when occasion

 offers for the entertainment of their friends. Morgan Hutchins, another oddity, is the factotum about the house.

"The family are not much given to style either in dress or furniture. They do not make half as much show as many who have less means; but they are insatiable readers. Books bearing the marks of use are in every room. The New York American, The Evangelist, The North American Review and a number of local papers are lying about. Visitors are impressed by the intellectual atmosphere which pervades the place."

On his arrival at Putney Noyes found that the attitude of the people toward him had undergone a complete change since his visit the year before. The Perfectionist had been extensively read, and there was an earnest desire to learn more of its doctrines. Accordingly during the months of March and April 1835 Noyes preached almost daily at Putney and in the neighboring villages. His operations here, he says, were for the first time entirely independent of Boyle and the New York Perfectionists, and the results, though less showy than before, were more lasting and satisfactory.

Dear Brother Boyle :-I perceive by the almanac that many days have passed away since I saw your face. My own memory seems to have recorded but half their number. I thank God I am no longer in a condition to bemoan the strides of time; else I should

 
doubtless here give you a sad saying or two in the prosing preacher's strain about the "shortness of life" and the "fleetness of time." But I am no longer cooped up "between the cradle and the grave" in that "narrow, narrow way,'' which is accounted by many the only right way under the sun for the children of men. I am a son of God, an inhabitant of eternity, and "why, as though living in the world," should I heed the flight of time? Let the sun double his speed, let time outrun himself-immortality asks no favors, mourns no loss.

The Lord is opening before me a wide door for the preaching of the gospel, and is giving me power that prevails against all adversaries. The day of Pentecost has not yet come in our house, but the Lord of Peace is here. Soon after I came home I visited my brother and sister in Chesterfield, and found the son of peace there also. The . . . clergyman of the village called upon me. After a long and interesting conversation with him, he requested me to preach for him on the Sabbath. I accepted his invitation, and preached to a congregation unusually large the righteousness of God. In the evening of the same day I preached in the hall of a tavern in this village. The hall, though large, could scarcely accommodate more than half of those who assembled. God preached his own gospel through me, and his word shall not return unto him void.

This village was never in such a state of agitation as it is now. Publicans and sinners hear me more gladly than the Pharisees, and many of them are receiving the truth into good and honest hearts. A

 
general and most intense desire to hear more prevails. I shall preach as often and as long as the Lord permits. On Thursday evening I shall preach at Dummerston by the urgent desire of several members of Mr. B.'s church, and probably at Chesterfield again in the course of the week. I converse daily with inquiring individuals, and have free and welcome access to many families. The Lord has given me an opportunity to testify concerning his Son to four clergymen since I have been here, and he has closed their mouths. You see I have full and blessed employment. The fields around me are white unto the harvest, and the Lord says, "Thrust in the sickle."

The paper has gloriously prepared the way for the preaching of faith in all this region. Many are constrained to testify that it is the most interesting paper they ever read. I found that Silas Morgan, who takes the paper here, had several months ago commenced the pure testimony, and had been mightily convincing everybody around him of the truth of the doctrine of perfection. He is a member of the Methodist Church, but plainly declares to his brethren that their case is worse than that of any other denomination. By him the door is opened for me. I see the fruit of our labors and the wisdom of God in the publication of that little paper, as I could not while I remained in New Haven. Truly we have been scattering the seed of the word of God with a broad cast, and even now the harvest is at hand.

I have occasion daily to testify against the leaven of the Pharisees, and the Lord bids me, Spare not. When I meet a self-righteous minister, otherwise a

 
false prophet, I am usually girded for battle. Saul hurls his javelins, but David cannot be hurt. I am in the midst of a perpetual battle, and yet have perpetual peace. Occasionally my spirit finds blessed rest in fellowship with some sweet believer, whom the Lord throws in my way; but the sons of God are few indeed.

The fourth chapter of Galatians is the weapon by which I have been enabled to drive many a devil from his refuge of lies; and I have found everywhere that as Ishmael persecuted Isaac, so the servants of God persecute his sons. I have thought the Lord would let me send you an article for the paper on the distinction between servants and sons, but you know I cannot write on every suggestion, as I once could. I will send you whatever the Lord gives, when he gives it.

The meetings were quite informal. Vocal prayers, personal appeals, and the measures of the professional revivalist were to a large extent discarded. Noyes usually read from the Bible, and discoursed upon some text or topic, giving opportunity for questions and

 
familiar conversation. Tall, broad-shouldered but thin, head massive, hair sandy in color, eyes blue-gray, temples full, forehead wide and high, nose prominent and well-shaped, lips thin, lower jaw powerful and slightly protruding, back of the head strongly developed, as he stood before his audience with polyglot Bible in hand he made an indelible impression on the memory. Still more striking were his intellectual and moral qualities. His intensity of thought, common sense, argumentative power, eloquence, sympathy, originality, earnestness, and self-sacrificing abandonment to principle all combined to give him an ascendancy over the minds of his hearers like that of the Hebrew prophets.

From the village of Putney the interest in Noyes's preaching spread to the 'East Part," a suburb adjoining the Connecticut River, and soon a flourishing colony of Perfectionists was established there, including the Palmers, Lords, Whites, Shaws, Pierces and Lovells. The hospitality of these believers was unbounded, and their simplicity and brotherly kindness gave a foretaste of the spirit of communism that was to come.

As rumors of the Perfectionist campaign spread abroad invitations to preach began to pour in from neighboring towns. Noyes responded to these demands, and thus the new faith acquired a foothold in Westminister, Dummerston, Fayetteville and other places.

One morning a letter was received from Mrs. Field, wife of the Congregational minister of \Vest Westminster, a woman unknown to the Putney Perfectionists except by reputation. She boldly denounced

the hypocrisy and lukewarmness of the churches, and made a whole-hearted profession of salvation from sin. Her position as a minister's wife as well as her eloquent description of her experience gave great currency to her testimony. Among others who were converted through her influence was Maria Clark, a young woman of superior mind, and a prominent member of the church. Not only was Miss Clark a great acquisition in herself, but her circle of influence was large and important. Her closest friend and correspondent, residing in the neighboring parish of East Westminster, was Harriet A. Holton. Like her friend, Miss Holton was a young woman of high standing in church and society. Less conspicuous than Miss Clark and less gifted in the arts of expression, she had greater depth and truer instincts. The glowing letters of Miss Clark found her waiting and eager for the faith that made free from sin. Through her friend's advocacy and the Bible arguments presented in The Perfectionist she became convinced that the great desire of her heart was attainable. Her full acceptance and profession of the faith soon followed. In this manner was won for the cause the woman who three years later was to become the wife of Noyes.

At the time of Miss Clark's conversion a young man twenty-one years of age, engaged as clerk in a small store, was boarding in her father's family. He was a man of warm sympathies, gracious manners, and unusual business talents. He was not a church member. Miss Clark's conversation first aroused his interest in the subject of salvation from sin, and he joined with her in inviting Noyes to preach in the village

schoolhouse. As a result of the meeting he became an ardent convert. This young man was John R. Miller, who later as financier and diplomatist gave invaluable service to the Oneida Community.

Toward the end of April Simon Lovett and Charles H. Weld came to Putney to visit Noyes. They remained at the Noyes homestead about three weeks, and assisted in the meetings. Noyes's sister Charlotte in her reminiscences of this period recalls Lovett as odd and abrupt in his manners, positive in his testimony, but lacking in the power to convince. Weld on the other hand had the polish and prudence of a city clergyman. He set forth the mystical revelations of other spiritual leaders, but did not attempt to define his own position. In all he said there was a lack of the living earnestness which made Noyes's words so effective.

The success of Noyes's preaching naturally inflamed the jealousy of his opponents, and their bitterness added venom to the rumors already rife about the strange doctrines and disorderly conduct of Perfectionists. This fact brought about a painful breach in the family. Noyes's father was extremely sensitive on the subject of reputation. That his oldest son through malicious lies should be an outcast from respectable society was to him unendurable. One day he remonstrated earnestly with Noyes for not taking measures to trace out and suppress the stories which were in circulation. Noyes contended that he ought not to spend his strength in caring for worldly reputation-that he should accept revilings and false accusations as a part of the inheritance of a son of God in

 
this world. His father at this became angry. The result of the interview was that Noyes withdrew from the house with his two friends, and went to live with Mr. Cutler, a new convert to Perfectionism. Here they remained until they left Putney ten days later. Noyes had at that time no expectation of any further favor from his father. But in the course of a few months his father became reconciled to him and invited him home.* Ever afterward he treated him with much kindness.

It is worthy of note that in this first Perfectionist campaign at Putney Noyes's immediate family played but an inconspicuous part. His father was following the movement with scholarly attention and paternal pride, but in the main with unruffled philosophic calm. His mother, though strongly attracted by the undoubted evidences of piety in her son, was holding off on account of the many strange doctrines which he was bringing out. She had still to go through a long crucifixion of habits and ideas before she could yield a whole-hearted acceptance. Mary, Elizabeth, Joanna and Horatio were all absent from Putney. Horatio was one of the early New Haven converts, and was supposed to be still in sympathy; but his confidence had been severely shocked by his brother's New York experience, and in the course of the next year or two he gradually withdrew from fellowship. Harriet and Charlotte took a deep sisterly interest in their brother's movements, and attended his meetings regularly despite the frowns and warnings of their fashionable

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* Noyes spent the winter of 1835-6 at his father's home.- G. W. N.

friends, but were as yet unconverted. George was a boy in school, not yet old enough to understand. A year and a half must still elapse before any members of Noyes's immediate family could be reckoned as belonging to the gathering Perfectionist church.

But the converts from without the family, who came into the faith during this campaign in 1835, became at once a bulwark to the cause of salvation from sin. Modest and teachable they were also faithful. Unlike the New Haven group, who were already scattering before the storms, these believers from the vicinity of Putney stood firm and united through the storms that were yet to come. Nearly all of them were either members of the Putney Community after its organization in 1838, or were staunch outside friends. And in Harriet A. Holton and John R. Miller we see the first of those that cast in their fortunes for better or for worse with Noyes, and with him labored and suffered to make the Oneida Community a true representative of the kingdom of God on earth.

It will be remembered that after I bad been engaged several weeks in the revival at Putney I was joined by Simon Lovett and Charles H. Weld. Weld was at this time in Correspondence with Mrs. Carrington of Oswego, New York, who had recently been converted to Perfectionism by his labors and was soaring in the highest regions of ecstasy and boasting. She maintained for a time a pre-eminent position as spiritual critic, but afterwards abandoned the faith and became insane. Her letters were specially spiced with censures f my carnality and worldly wisdom. Weld read them in public and private as highly valuable documents.

Weld had been confirmed by his visit to T. R. Gates in the impression, of which there were traces before, that he was destined to be the president of the dispensation which Perfectionism was introducing. The following extract of a letter from Gates to Boyle, published in The Perfectionist July 20, 1835 will give the reader a glimpse of the prophetical flattery which lie had administered to Weld's self-conceit:

"I see by your last number that you will have all the hosts of anti-christ arrayed against you ; but when the enemy comes in like a flood the Lord will lift up

a standard against him. If you have been called to do what some of us have had to do, they might complain, and pour out abuse, and gnaw their tongues for pain. The more you are abused and suffer, the higher you will rise; and by and by, when the Immanuel child becomes as the mighty God, you will become terrible as an army with banners, and your enemies will flee away. It is my belief that this mighty power will yet be felt in brother W ; but first he will have to be like Christ, crucified through weakness, and remain in the tomb for a time."

I did not at first object to the theory of Weld's preeminence. In consequence of the relation which was thus established between us his spirit at first prevailed over mine in respect to outward leadings. But in process of time I was constrained to cross the bent of his spirit. He was manifestly chafed as my emancipation proceeded. We finally came to downright cross purpose sin the following manner: He had taken a meditative jaunt through a circle of towns in Massachusetts, and had come home full of revelations founded on mystical interpretations of the names of the places through which he had passed. For instance lie said that the first place he came to was Royalton, which meant that he was to be king of the new dispensation. The next place was Templeton, which indicated that he was to be high priest also. Next was Northfield, which meant that he and I were to make a tour through the northern parts of Vermont. I felt some involuntary disgust at this nonsense, but signified my willingness to follow his leadings, if my own accorded with them. A few days

afterward I became convinced that my journey was to be in the opposite direction. Boyle was then proposing to publish an Extra, and I thought it my duty to go to New Haven and help. Weld wrestled against me for some days. At length one morning I told him that I should start immediately. He said he would walk with me a mile or two. At the end of his proposed walk I said that I wished he was going with me, and he concluded at once to go.

The war of wills between us increased. There was no external dissension, but a conscious antagonism of spirit carried on not by words but by the direct language of the heart and brain. An influence from Weld would engage me in an internal debate and I would find myself driven to the alternative of either sinking under it or breaking it by out-reasoning its subtleties. At length after beating off his enchantments again and again I told him that the issue between us was, whether he or I had the strongest mind, and that one or the other must fall. He assented. Finally I brought his spirit into a corner from which there was no retreat. Then I went to him and told him that I had won the victory. He perceived it. There was no dispute, no bitterness between us. I went immediately out and for an hour walked the fields south of the city in the agony of one who has barely escaped from a whirlpool. When I returned, I found without surprise that he had suffered a paroxysm similar to that in the Free Church the year before.

Here was the end of my personal intercourse with Charles H. Weld. I subsequently wrote him a letter of renunciation, which will be found further on in this narrative.

 
At the close of my campaign with Weld I went with Lovett to Prospect. It was high time that my spirit should be loosed from the fixtures which were gathering about it. In the spring of 1834 Perfectionism had encountered a flood of enmity from the clergy and churches, and in the spiritual whirlof that flood I had been wrecked and stripped and cast forth to desolation. Now through Lovett a similar flood was coming upon us from New York Perfectionism, and again I was plunged into a wild whirl of spirits The experience through which I passed during several weeks which I spent at Prospect at this time was similar to that of which I have given an account in the narrative of my visit to New York. The exercises of my mind were different in many of their details, and on the whole less revolutionary and distressing, but the general resemblance was such that it would be superfluous to recount them. The turn which my mind took at this time in regard to sexual morality had much influence on my subsequent course, and will be referred to in a later writing. I did nothing of which I had occasion to be ashamed, but I lost reputation with those who saw only externals. My spirit

 
was weaned from bondage to Boyle and to the paper. I was loosed from all the moorings of ordinary prudence, and sent adrift once more with nopilot but God.

New Haven, June 25. 1835.

Dear Mother: -John has been in to see me this afternoon, and after along crying fit about him I have concluded to write home. I have seen him but once before since he came; that was the Monday after. He was then in a state of great excitement, and the interview gave me no pleasure. He would not reason at all, but denounced everything and everybody. He looked haggard and careworn, and I felt positive after he left that he was deranged. This afternoon he appears different, more as he did when he came home last summer. His feelings seem to be softened down, and he exhibits some gentleness and kindness. He says he has been led through another series of trials and temptations like those he experienced in New York. He has been fighting with the adversary for the last six months, and the greatest conflict has been since he left Putney. He says he has now got the victory, and is at peace again. But his strange actions have shaken the confidence of all the Perfectionists here in him, and they turn him off from their fellowship, so that he has now no home and no friends in the wide world. He seems to feel his forlorn condition, and says he has been studying for a few days past what is best to do. He says none who know him will admit him into their shops to learn a trade, or

 their stores as a clerk, though he would be willing to do something, could lie find employment. I told him he could go to New York, and become a clerk in a counting-house. He seems to fall in with this idea, and say she will call and talk about it again. If he concludes to try this plan, I have told him I would let him have some money.

My heart aches for him. You know not how friendless he looks. It is enough to destroy my whole happiness to see him and think of him. He seems to be rational now, though I can discover something wild when he speaks about his particular views. His views upon holiness are, I think, rational; but on other religious subjects, and in talking to people in a way to give offense, he is certainly deranged. Do acknowledge that this is true, and do pity him. I hope he will conclude to go to New York. If his attention should be diverted from these subjects which have occupied his mind so long and so constantly, and he should be engaged about something that interested him, he would get right again.

Your daughter,

JOANNA N. HAYES.*

Answering for the family June 30th, Harriet writes:

"If you could see Father or Mother now, you would not think the contents of your letter had fallen with little weight upon them. Father seems boweddown and almost broken-hearted under it, and it is evident he feels much more than he is willing to express. He

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* Joanna had recently married Samuel Hayes of New Haven, U. S. Consulat Trinidad, West Indies.-G. W. N.

 
wishes to have me write to you particularly not to advise John to go to New York, for he thinks it would be the worst place possible; that Galway, or this place, would be much preferable. Elizabeth would be very glad to have him go out to Galway, and stay with her as long as he will; and Father hopes he will go there, or come to this town."

But Harriet scouts the idea that John is crazy. She says:

"I should think from your letter that his last conflict had ushered him into an entirely new dispensation, and produced as much alteration in him as his time in New York. It is no evidence to me, however, that he is crazy or deluded. I don't know why, but I could not believe him either, though all the rest of the world did; and I think too, I am not capricious or obstinate about it, but reasonable. Charlotte and I are unwilling to acknowledge, as you wish, that he is crazy. Others here at home are rather wavering, I think. Time will bring all things to light. Give our love to John. Did you say that he feels his forlorn condition? Tell him he has friends here who think everything of him. I have no doubt but in giving up his home and friends he has received a hundred fold in this life according to the promise.

Just at this crisis, as if designed by Providence to strengthen the wavering faith of the family, letters were received telling of the wonderful results of Noyes's preaching at Westminster and the neighboring towns. One of these was from Mrs. Field, wife of the Congregational minister at West Westminster. It gave a glowing account of her recent experience in

 
attaining salvation from sin. Another letter was from Maria Clark. It brought the news of Harriet A. Holton's conversion to Perfectionism, and contained this paragraph: "I have feared lest your dear brother had bestowed labor upon us in vain, but thanks be to God it has not been in vain in the Lord. I have tried for a time in part to conceal the flood of light and love which has burst upon my soul, but in vain. It must flow out in words, or the very stones would cry out. I am so unlike my former self, that I am a wonder to myself. Formerly my first desire was to please the world, and then, if there was any part of my heart left, present it to God. But He was not pleased with the offering, and I felt His frown. Now however I can rejoice in His favor, and do rejoice. And though my dear friends think me deluded, I can only feel for them love, and a strong desire that they may be led captive in the same way." From other sources came the word that four or five persons in the neighboring towns had come out boldly on the Perfectionist platform, while others were eagerly inquiring.

July 11th Joanna writes again, this time to

Mary:

"I know not what to think of John. You are all so positive that he is not deranged, that I feel as if I ought not to think so. But I know not how otherwise to account for his strange conduct. I cannot reconcile his practice and feelings with my ideas of perfection, and if he is not deranged, there is no consolation for me. If he is deranged, he is more an object of pity than any one I ever heard of. He is a homeless wanderer, and is entirely dependent upon

charity. If he continues his present course of life, I know not why he will not become a beggar from door to door. I do think you at home ought to decide whether he is deranged or not. If you think he is not, and approve of the course lie is taking, you ought to provide for his comfort, and not let him live in this way. If you will say that he is deranged, I will do all that I can to make him comfortable. I do not feel as if it were my duty to assist him while he pursues a course that I cannot approve, if he is really in the possession of his reason. If he would find some employment that would support him, I would help him, if it was necessary; but I do not wish to give him money if it would encourage him to pursue his present course. Do think of this, and see if I am not right."

To this Mrs. Noyes on July 8th replies:

"The effect which your late letters would have on my weak nerves you can as well imagine as I describe. All I can say is, I am enabled to trust the faithfulness of God. The way in which John is led is truly mysterious, and I could not justify his conduct but that I believe that God will sustain him. We have much evidence that, notwithstanding his singular conduct, the Lord is with him, and has spoken by him. I have been very much tried, and do not now know as I wish to, but I trust the truth will yet be shown me. I can do nothing for him. The manner in which he left home forbids me to think of it."

And Harriet adds: "You asked me to convince you, if I could, that John was not deranged. I don't suppose I could, if I should attempt, but the mere

effort would seem to me as foolish and absurd as to try to prove by argument that the sun shines." Thus in spite of unfavorable appearances the confidence of Noyes's family and of Perfectionists in the vicinity of Putney remained for the most part unshaken.

"In the fall of 1835 during a residence of some weeks in Milford, Connecticut," writes Noyes, "my mind recovered from the confusion of my late desolating experience and took a highly favorable turn. I studied Weld's character, and emancipated myself forever from the shackles of his influence. I saw that an independent and for the present a solitary course was laid out for me. I had an anticipative view of much of the way in which I have since been led. From this period I date the birth of many of the purposes which I am still pursuing."

Milford, Sept. 9, 1835.

Dear Mother: So far as I am concerned, the work of bloodshed is finished. The God of battles has given me the liberty for which I have long been contending. I am as free for God's service, as if I had never known father, or mother, or brother, or sister; and now I am ready to turn and bind up the wounds I have given in the conflict that is past. "The wisdom that cometh from above is first pure, then peaceable"; not first peaceable, and then pure. During my spiritual infancy I have been compelled to fight for purity.

Now I am strong enough to proclaim peace, and to keep the peace, whether my proclamation is heeded or not. "Charity thinketh no evil." That charity is mine. I see nothing but good in the universe. All that is called evil is good to one whose head is above the clouds. "Evil to him who evil thinks."

"Charity vaunteth not itself." That charity is mine; and when I speak well of my own estate, you will understand that I magnify only the grace of God, by which alone I am what I am. God claims me as his own property, and I admit the equity of his claim. My body, soul and spirit with all that belong to them are his. I can never have goodness, or greatness, or glory separately from him. As one with him I glory. I cannot conceal his righteousness. I cannot assume a voluntary humility.

In giving an account of myself, if I do not fully gratify the curiosity expressed in Harriet's letter, I shall at least remove from your minds all just reasons for anxiety concerning me. My character has undergone a great change since I was with you, and indeed within a few weeks. You will perhaps accuse me of fickleness. Let me say before answering the charge, that to me accusation is but commendation. If a man accuses me of idleness, by implication he commends industry; and as I am conscious of possessing that good quality, I take to myself the implied commendation, and leave the expressed censure for those who deserve it. In like manner, if you charge me with fickleness, you thereby praise stability; and as I know myself to be immutable in obedience to the will of God, I thank you for your commendation. True it

is that I have passed through many changes of external character within the last two years. Like a man climbing a mountain, as I have reached one eminence after another the prospect around me has widened, the coloring and local appearance of the scenery has changed. But my eye has still rested on the summit; my nerves have still been strung for the ascent. I have never taken a step backward, and never shall. till I sit down with Christ on his Father's throne. I thank God for the varied scenery of my course; and I thank him for the immutability of its direction.

During the summer I have been studying theology in New Haven and the country round about, not with book or pen, but with all the energy of the intellect which God has given me. Severe suffering of body and mind was a necessary and salutary accompaniment of my studies, for which I give thanks. A complete separation from the sect of Perfectionists has been one of the happiest results of my meditations, and I am now free from my spiritual as well as my natural relatives.

Some of the practical conclusions to which I have been led are as follows: I have learned that the love of God, self-love, and the love of mankind are all one; that perfect, that is, enlightened self-love is and ought to be the mainspring of the human machine; that in blessing and perfecting myself I glorify God, and bless mankind. I have learned that perfect self-possession stands first in the list of blessings which God gives his sons, and that self-knowledge is the first lesson in their education. To this lesson I have been devoting my attention, and my discoveries have been

such that I have given up all thoughts of undertaking the business of teaching others, until I have attained perfect self-knowledge and perfect self-control. A preacher by implication professes to know important truth, and also to know how it should be communicated. I shall therefore never again assume the place of a public teacher, till I am certain that I possess such an amount of important truth and such a knowledge of the human mind, that I can honestly fulfill the promises of such a profession. When I compare myself with those who walk in the shadows of this world, I perceive that I know much; but when I cast a glance at the unexplored fields of knowledge comprised within the first lesson of the book which God has put into my hands, I know I am but a sophomore, and I lose all relish for the enterprise of instructing others.

Having thus studied myself out of friends and business, and being without money, I began not long since to inquire the will of God concerning temporal support. I found that the love of independence was one of the strongest cravings of my nature, and that this could never be gratified till I earned my bread as other people do. I found that the love of money, which I know is the root of all evil, the reigning idolatry especially of New England, was forever extinguished in myself, and that I need not fear to seek money lest I should adore it. In view of these considerations I came to the deliberate and fixed determination to engage in some business which should render me independent of friends for worldly sustenance. An acquaintance in this place employed me

 
for a time in collecting his debts, and I am about to commence with him tomorrow a survey of the town for the purpose of making a map, which will occupy us several weeks. I have engaged in these matters as Providence threw them in my way, with the expectation of getting better business soon. I am seeking my fortune, and for the present have a good season to look about me and devise ways and means.

The people of the place are very friendly, and insist upon my preaching to them on Sunday. I shall give them a talk. I can at least tell them I know nothing, and am not a preacher.

It would not be strange if I should teach a school this fall. I have courage enough to believe that I can gain the confidence of this community sufficiently for such a purpose. The man with whom I am now connected is much attached to me, and wishes to keep me here and forward my designs in every way possible.

I have given you a general sketch of my situation and prospects. Let me say for the comfort of such as prize the wisdom of this world, that in my own opinion I never was so sober and considerate as at this present time. The children of this world have been wiser than the children of light; but I promise you, they shall be so no longer, if my example and influence avail anything. I have learned that logic is worth more than poetry, and matter-of-fact industry more than building air-castles.

My head is just now full of Yankee notions about money-making and economy, and I have become a great admirer of Dr. Franklin. Is not this a wonderful metamorphosis? I hope you will all have a hearty

laugh over it, and that no suspicion of deception or fear of disappointment will shade your anticipations of my success and welfare. If my mutability forbids you to expect permanency of purpose, I can only send you to the throne of God, where my own hopes of stability are anchored. I know more fully than you can know the chaotic ocean of change over which I have been tossed. Yet I have lost no confidence in myself, because I know that God has been, and is my pilot; and as I now perceive myself riding quietly at anchor in the haven of God's peace, I have no disposition to lose the comforts of my present situation by anticipating future shipwrecks. I fear neither ocean, nor storm, nor quicksands, nor whirlpools. Innocence cannot fear.

I verily believe, Mother, if I had your bodily constitution with all its infirmities, I should soon find my way to the blessing of sleep and sound health. Your mind diseases your body, and you think you cannot control your mind. I know you can with God's help. My own mind has sometimes preyed upon my health, and I have thought that I could not control its movements. But now I know better. I have learned that God has not kindled a fire in my brain to burn me up, but to warm me; and when the fire goes beyond its proper office, I throw water on it. The pilot of a steamboat can stop his vessel in a moment even when it is under full pressure. The human mind under proper government is as obsequious to the will of its pilot as a steamboat. In the midst of the mightiest movements of which my mind is capable I stop thinking in a moment, if my life begins to suffer under the

 
pressure, and I can be perfectly thoughtless when I please, and sleep when I please. I should prefer to be the slave of a southern negro driver rather than be the slave of my own brain. Will you not set yourself to inquire whether you are not voluntarily the slave of your own mind, and whether you may not be disenthralled?

We shall all, men, women and children, find the necessity of studying metaphysics before we shall secure the end of our being. Horatio, Harriet, Charlotte and George have studied almost everything save the a, b, c of useful knowledge. They know much about the solar system and the fixed stars, but how much do they know about their own nature, the machinery in the midst of which they live? If God ever qualifies me to write a book, my subject shall be self-knowledge. I have begun to discover that I am fearfully and wonderfully made; that I am a glorious kingdom in myself, a kingdom that has long lain in ruins through misrule and darkness, but is yet capable of glorifying its maker and rendering a rich revenue of blessedness to its sovereign. When I have completely ascertained the limits, character and resources of this kingdom, quelled all the rebellions which waste it, and secured the revenue which is due to its king, I shall be prepared to assist other sovereigns in like enterprises. Till then I shall not write a book.

You perceive I have grown very selfish and egotistical. Herein I think my example is the best possible. "Charity begins at home" is one of those maxims in which the superior wisdom of the children of this world is manifest. ct upon it under the light of God,

 
and I engage you shall do more good than all the missionaries of the American Board. That love of souls which hurries and worries to save others, while self remains in ruins, is baby-benevolence, foolish and fatal kindness. I deliberately avow it as my purpose to make the most of myself. Call this selfishness if you will; it is selfishness which requires perfect benevolence. While I would exhort all "not to think more highly of themselves than they ought to think," I would also exhort all not to think more meanly of themselves than they ought to think. Independently of God all flesh is grass; but as the creatures of God you rank among the noblest of God's works. Harriet, Charlotte, awake! Stand up in the majesty of your nature! We have lived like brutes-let us live like rational human beings!

If I can in any way help any of you to burst from your bondage, tell e how. I will gladly write as often as you wish, if my communications can effect anything for this object. I care not to pamper curiosity or mere family affection, but if we may hold such correspondence as becomes immortal beings, I shall most joyfully fulfill my share of the task.

Notwithstanding your imaginations about my stoicism, I assure you my relish for a letter from home has not abated one jot or tittle in consequence of my emancipation from your apron-strings. Neither has my affection for you all suffered the least diminution. Rather it has vastly increased, and withal it has become pure. I should be glad to visit Putney according to the desires expressed by many, but at present I have no business there.

 
Let Mrs. Campbell know my situation, and thank her for her letter and her interest in my welfare. Tell the people to wait on the Lord, and not on me or any other man. Tell them to look for greater things than my work among them last spring. We are all yet in the wilderness. The pillar of fire is before us, but we have not yet reached the land flowing with milk and honey. I see glorious light ahead, but gross darkness yet covers the people. A few are beginning to watch for the morning.

Take care of yourselves. Be quiet about me. The peace of God be with you.

J.H. NOYES.

While I was at Milford I was induced by my friend, Mr. Lambert, and others to preach one Sunday in a schoolhouse. But the doctrine of salvation from sin, as might be supposed, was unpopular at that time in the vicinity of New Haven. While some received my discourse with interest, others were enraged by it; and before the meeting closed the roughs on the outside dashed several stones through the windows.

After concluding my engagements at Milford I went in October 1835 to New York City to look for employment. Not finding any satisfactory opening I passed on to Newark. Here I met Abram C. Smith, a former Methodist preacher, who with several others at Newark had become a Perfectionist under the influence of the New Haven paper. Smith at first, like many others at that period, regarded me with suspicion, but on further acquaintance received me with hearty good will and confidence. He was a man of great energy and enthusiasm combined with a fair degree of intelligence, and thenceforward for a number of years he rendered important service to the cause of salvation from sin.

During this visit at Newark I made a short excursion to Philadelphia for the sake of learning by per-

 
sonal inspection something about the character of T.R. Gates, whose writings were becoming staple commodities among the Perfectionists. Boyle had just before visited Gates, and had returned with a favorable report. I introduced myself to him, and was received in friendly style. His wife was especially cordial toward me, and related a recent dream of hers, in which she represented me as figuring in a creditable manner. She also insisted upon my receiving from her a five-dollar gold piece as a present. During the first part of the visit I sat patiently as a listener, while Gates related to me the strange things which he had been called to do. He had been driven, he said, by an irresistible divine impulse to enter the House of Representatives at Washington, and denounce the judgment of heaven on the national legislators; and when he was ordered to keep silence, he had told them he must "obey God rather than man," and had proceeded with his testimony till he was carried out. After his tales of this kind were all told I found opportunity to enter upon the business which I had with him. I suggested to him that there were some things in his writings which I did not like. I mentioned and commented particularly on his frivolous and fanciful interpretations, his fondness for dreams, visions and other marvelous manifestations, and his prophetical vagaries. He was uneasy from the first, and tried to turn the conversation into other channels. Occasionally his eyes flashed fire. While he was gone out on some errand I observed to his wife that possibly there would be difficulty between him and me and, a sin that case she would probably take sides with him, I

 
was unwilling to keep the money which she had given me. But she refused to take it back, saying that she entirely approved of the course which I had taken with him-that she had suspected him of something like insanity, and saw that he needed correction-that I was the only person who had dealt plainly with him. After this I had further conversation with him of the same kind with the same results. Again I privately requested Mrs. Gates to take back the money, but in vain. At length in the course of a third conversation Gates broke all bounds. He said I was profaning sacred things, and he would hear such stuff no longer. "You shall leave the house," said he in conclusion, "or I will." I advised him to be calm, and reminded him that when he was ordered to be still he told the people that he must "obey God rather than man." "God sent me here," said I, "to deliver this message to you, and I too must obey God rather than man. I shall stay till I have finished." He was obliged to submit to his own rule. I sat quietly until I had finished, and then took my leave. Mrs. Gates lighted me to the door, and in the entry I took occasion the third time to offer her the money, but she said, "Keep it, keep it," and motioned me away. So I departed.

On my return from Philadelphia, after spending a few days in Newark and New York, I traveled on foot from the latter place to New Haven. My money was exhausted soon after I commenced the journey, and on the second day a cold rain set in, which made the traveling bad. I was on the road from Monday morning till Wednesday night, during which time I ate not a morsel of food, and slept but a few hours and

 
that in the open air. In the course of the first day the troubles around and before me pressed upon my spirit so heavily that I was very sorrowful. After battling the temptation to fretfulness an hour or two, I turned aside from the road, and went a short distance across a low isthmus to a beautiful spot on the shore of a headland projecting into the Sound. I stretched myself on the green sward, and resolved to stay there till I could go forward with a peaceful heart. The temptation receded before the decision of spirit which I now brought to bear upon it. At length I fell asleep, and rested quietly perhaps an hour. I awoke not merely in peace but with positive gladness in my heart. My spirit was in blessed harmony with the warm sunshine and the tranquil ocean. From that time I endured the hardships of the journey cheerfully.

New Haven, Dec. 1, 1835.
My dear Father -As I am going to write a kind of business letter, I believe I will address it to you. I received a letter from Mother last week authorizing me to give John what money he wanted for clothing and to bear his expenses home. I told him what Mother had written, and gave him ten dollars to buy himself a hat, a pair of boots and other small things. I also told him, if there was a probability that he would remain here several days longer, he had better get a coat made. He thought he might, and went and was measured for one. Last night he called, and told me he did not know when he should go home. He

found much to do here, and it seemed to be the Lord's will that he should remain here for the present. He wished however to go home, and was ready to at any time when he could see it was his duty, and still thought he should soon.

Now what troubles me and my reason for writing is to know, whether I was to furnish him with money only upon condition that he came home. Mother says:

"If John does not come home, we know of no way to help him"; and I have thought perhaps I had no right to give him money expecting you would repay me, if he remained here. I told him my scruples last night, and that I should not give him any more as coming from you until I had written and inquired, but that I would give him twenty dollars to pay for his coat upon my own responsibility, and you could do as you thought right about paying me again. I presume he will go home before long, but, as he professes to be governed in everything by direct influence from God and has no will or plans of his own, it is of course impossible to tell with certainty whether he will or not, or to persuade him to do it unless he sees it to be God's will. He is doing nothing here but talking with people as he has opportunity, but he thinks he is doing good in that way. He is not earning anything, and has no funds but what I have furnished.

 
and sit down to say a word in answer. I suspect John is not in town, as I have seen nothing of him for several days. I have thought of sending to Dutton, who is here, to inquire if he knew where he was, but think he must have arrived home before this, and I need not be at the trouble.

I am very glad that there is a prospect of his getting a school in Putney, and hope he will be induced to accept of the offer. It will be pleasanter for him and you all to have him doing something like that, I should think, and I see not why he may not be as much in the way of his duty as if otherwise employed.

I should hesitate about showing him your last letter, Mother, because I know, if you undertake to dictate to him or try to persuade him he is wrong in anything, you will get into a quarrel. The only way is to let him think as he has a mind to, and let him alone. If he is wrong in anything, he will get right far sooner if you take this course than if you attempt to reason with him. He is so much afraid of being influenced by man's wisdom and of being under bondage, as he calls it, that he will not listen to advice or reproof, especially from any of his relatives. So beware!

Love to all. Your affectionate

After remaining a few weeks at New Haven I started for Putney on the16th of December, a day made memorable to the nation by the "great fire"in

New York City. Many will recollect that it was one of the coldest days ever known in this climate. In fact the immense sweep of the fire was owing to the impossibility of working the fire engines, which froze up in the firemen's hands. On that day I rode from New Haven to Hartford, a distance of forty miles, in a common stage coach with only ordinary clothing. The other passengers pitied me for my lack of clothing and expressed fears that I should freeze to death. I told them that I should get along well enough by help of a theory which I had about cold and heat, which was this: Cold and fear produce the same effect upon the body; cold operating from without causes trembling, and fear operating from within causes trembling. It is reasonable then to assume that the opposites of these two elements, heat and courage, are also identical in their effects; that as heat operating from without warms and comforts the body, so courage operating from within may warm and comfort the body. One of the passengers admitted that this was a good theory, and that it was available to some extent, but he did not believe that it would "work down into the feet" on such a day as that. I assured him that I had full faith in it and would give it a fair trial. By the battling of my heart I kept myself quite comfortable most of the way, but at length my feet began to suffer. At this crisis, nerved as I was by previous discussion and success, I put forth a vehement action of the will in the direction of the quarter assailed, and immediately felt a warm current flowing down into my feet as distinctly as if it had been a bath of warm water. I had no further serious distress from the cold, and prob-

 
ably reached Hartford with less suffering than my fellow-travelers with all their protectives.

I remained at Putney through the winter of 1835-6. Perfectionism at that time was in its darkest trial. Disorder and dissensions within and reproach from without rendered its desolation complete. Though I was separated from the sect, yet I felt myself identified with its testimony, and its desolation came upon me like a flood. I spent that winter chiefly in self-examination, and conflict with the spirit of accusation. I was compelled to take a minute measurement of my own responsibility for the disastrous consequences which seemed to be following the doctrines, in the publication of which I had been so deeply concerned. In a substantial sense I stood before the judgment seat of Christ. My works were tried by fire; and although the result of the trial was altogether favorable to my peace, my sufferings for several months were severe. The scrutiny through which I passed, instead of convicting me of sin, purged and healed my conscience; but it deepened my sense of responsibility, and impressed upon my spirit a sobriety and a resolution to resist corruption among professed Perfectionists, which has since been of great value to me.

About the first of February 1836 Noyes in a letter to Boyle made an earnest plea for a radical change in the policy of the paper. He desired that more recognition should be given to the legitimate sphere of the intellect as a factor in religious experience, that the scope of the paper be broadened to include other than strictly theological topics, and that every department of human life be subjected to the same rigid tests as those which had been applied by Perfectionists to traditional religion. Boyle in his reply expressed the greatest interest in these proposals, and offered to "open the entire columns of the paper" to Noyes, if he would put his thoughts in a form for publication. But antinomianism had by this time fastened its fang on the paper, and in less than six weeks, as we have seen, it was discontinued.

In the same letter Boyle referred to the general state of Perfectionism at this time in the following terms:

"Dear John -I believe that the Lord's people have been in a dreadful hour of temptation, and I can say that I feel an unwonted sympathy toward them all, and such love as I have never felt before. So do I feel also toward a blind church and a blind world. I fully believe that those hones but credulous children among

the saints, who have been carried to and fro, will yet all come outright. The Lord is doing a strange work, and bringing to pass his strange act, and we may well expect strange things. Hence, while I do not approve of many things that are done, they do not give me any uneasiness. . . .I received a letter from S in Brimfield, who says the bundling businessi s going on more briskly than ever. To me this seems at best but small business. If their aim is, as I am told, to break down false modesty, it is hewing at the branches. None of these things nor any other still more dark move me. God is at the helm. All will end well.

"Your ever affectionate brother,

In the spring under a strong spiritual impulse I left home suddenly, and traveled on foot to Albany. There I called on the Annesleys and some other religionists, but found little to detain me, and soon began to inquire where I should next direct my steps. As I walked the street ruminating on this question a spiritual voice said to me, "Go south." Immediately I set my face in that direction.

 
At a few miles' distance from Albany a young man walking with a staff and budget, presenting an appearance half-way between that of a vagabond and a gentleman, overtook me. Having concluded to walk together for the day we fell into various conversation. It was not long before my fellow-traveler, presuming me to be as desperate an adventurer as himself, proposed to me to join him in robbing on the highway. I replied that I thought we could find a better way to get a living. Soon afterward I introduced the subject of religion. At first he declared that he was not afraid that he should be shut out of heaven. I said: "There shall in no wise enter therein anything that defileth, or worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." He went on to defend his position, but I answered his arguments, and soon with deep anxiety he asked me to tell him what he should do to be saved. In the midst of our conversation he exclaimed: "Now I know the meaning of the dream which I had last night. I dreamed that I was standing in the open air with a crowd of persons early in the morning, looking toward the east. And we saw a star arise, and it became larger and larger till at last it was a glorious sun. The people were in great perplexity and fear, asking one another, 'What does this mean?' Then an impulse seized me, and I said loudly to the people : 'That is the sign of the Son of man.' I understood not what I was saying, and when I awoke, I wondered what could have put these words into my head, for Bible language had been altogether foreign from my thoughts. The dream made a great impression upon me."

The young man was now completely subdued and, as

he approached the crisis of heart-surrender, his agony of mind became overwhelming. We sat down on a grassy bank, and he covered his face with his hands. At length he exclaimed, "I see him! I see him!" "Who is it that you see?" I asked. "Christ," said he; and he put out his arms as if to clasp some visible person. Meanwhile his eyes were closed. Soon after this he took from his pocket a wallet, several pieces of money and a hand of tobacco, and threw them as far as he could. I asked with some astonishment what he meant by that. He replied, "I stole those last night!" His plan was now to find employment, that he might obtain the means of clothing himself decently and going home. Near night we stopped at a village where he succeeded in letting himself to a farmer for several months. I gave him the best advice I could, especially enjoining upon him to procure a Bible. Then I notified him that my responsibility for him was at an end. We parted with many expressions of affection, and I never saw him afterwards.

Crossing the river at Hudson and taking an easterly course I arrived the next day at Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Here I was hospitably received by Augustus Beach, a Baptist elder, who had taken the New Haven paper and was much interested in its doctrines. I found him a person of the amiable sort, reflective and tender-hearted. We had much profitable conversation during the few days which I passed at his house, and the kindness with which he supplied my wants and commended me to God at parting will ever be a pleasant remembrance to me. He subsequently became a

convert to Miller's theory of the second advent, and wrote me several letters of warning in relation to that subject, which were distinguished more for their good spirit than their good sense.

From Pittsfield I went to Southampton. There I learned from Sardis Chapman much that was new and alarming to me about the bundling and other strange proceedings of Perfectionists at Brimfield and Southampton. I had been prepared by the fiery judgment through which I had passed during the preceding winter to estimate correctly the character of those proceedings, and to take my stand firmly against them even at the expense of renouncing fellowship with every Perfectionist in the world.

After a short visit at Southampton I went to New Haven and boarded several weeks at Abiud Tuttle's. Dutton with his wife was in the city. He was just then at the turning-point of his career. Not long before he had been deeply involved in the foolish proceedings to which allusion has been made, and a reaction toward legality had probably commenced. He was becoming a cold Perfectionist, and had returned to the occupation in which he had been engaged before he commenced studying for the ministry, that of a journeyman printer.

Boyle also was at this time preparing to withdraw from the business of propagating the doctrine of holiness. The prospects of the cause were discouraging, and he was looking toward other fields. After stopping the paper he had gone to work in a machine shop at Newark. He came to New Haven however, while I was in that region, and in conversation with him and

Dutton I referred to the case of the disciples, who in despair of the cause of their Master turned back after his death to their old employment of fishing. I told them that, whatever they might do, I for one would not go a-fishing.,' I felt that the darkest time was not the time for me to desert my post, and I resolved to labor alone, if necessary, to repair the breaches of our cause.

In this spirit I went in the course of the summer to Prospect at the solicitation of the brethren there, and labored among them several weeks, teaching "publicly and from house to house," warning "every one night and day with tears." I made an earnest effort to exorcise the death-like spirit of antinomianism, which had fallen on believers there as elsewhere, and to gather them into unity and order. My heart was burdened with an agony of desire that Christ might be honored in his saints, and that a standard might be lifted up against the flood of iniquity which was coming in. The experiment was not very successful, and I went away at length in much sorrow.But I had cleared my own soul of responsibility, and was not disheartened.

After this I visited David Harrison in Meriden, found him in much trouble of mind by reason of bondage to his family and the cares of the world, and after a week or two he proposed to go out with me, not knowing whither, as my practice had been in many cases. We went forth committing our steps to the Lord, and finally came to New Haven. In the fall of 1835, when I was almost destitute of friends and money, I had taken board and lodging at the Temper-

 
ance House in New Haven under the persuasion that it was the will of God and that he would enable me, as he had in all cases before, to pay my debts. At my departure my debts were paid by the unasked liberality of my sister, who was then residing in New Haven. In the spring of 1836I had again taken board at the same place, and after remaining several weeks the brethren from Prospect paid my bill, and took me home with them. I told Harrison these facts, and said to him: "I believe it is the will of God that we should have a season of undisturbed communion with each other. If you will take board with me at the Temperance House, I will pay your bill." Accordingly we remained there in much outward contempt but in much inward contentment somewhat more than six weeks. When we had been there four weeks James Boyle proposed to me to go with him to Newark, and A. C. Smith offered to pay our board. Being alone with Harrison I said to him: "Here is a fair offer of deliverance from our debt. But we have many things yet to say. I will not leave this place till God clearly manifests his will." Harrison assented, and Boyle and Smith left us. We remained two weeks more, waiting on the Lord in full confidence as before. As the end of that time drew near, we perceived that the object of our session was accomplished. A few days before we left, Mr. Tuttle, the landlord, mentioned to me that he was in want of money. I told him I would take measures to pay our board immediately. I took the promised measures by laying our case before God. On the third morning from this time I went out with a determination never to come back without the needed

 
 money. As I walked across the green it occurred to me that I had several years before borrowed fifty dollars of Thomas Trowbridge, a merchant in the city and a distant relative of mine. Directly I determined to walk down upon the wharf, saying within myself:

"If the Lord throws him in my way, I will make known to him my wants." At the end of the wharf I met him returning towards the city. I turned and walked with him. Our conversation fell upon some information which he had received from my brother, who was engineering on Staten Island. He said that there was a good demand for labor there. I then told him my situation, and said to him: "Now if you are willing to take my debt upon you, I will go to Staten Island and, if possible, engage in business with my brother, and pay you as soon as I can raise the money. Only mind one thing: I have nothing to do with my father, and you must not look to him for your pay." He readily loaned me fifty dollars, and I gave him my note. Not long afterward I learned that he had sent notice of the debt to my father directly after it was contracted, and the fifty dollars were refunded within a few days. Some said, I ought to pay my father. I said, No. If I must have the name of being a minor or a knave, I will have the game.

In September I went to Newark and remained some days at the home of A. C. Smith, with whom Boyle was then living. While I was there an amusing incident occurred. Certain Methodists, professedly of the more liberal sort, were in the habit of meeting weekly at the house of a Mr. Gould. Their meetings were called "free," and it was understood that believers of every

name were at liberty to speak in them. Several of the Perfectionists, including Boyle and myself, attended one evening, and in the course of the exercises I arose and offered my testimony. My name and profession were unknown to the audience. I conformed as well as I could to the manners of the Methodists, but the matter of my discourse was strongly tinctured with the heresies of Perfectionism. As I proceeded the people grew warm in their approbation. "Amen," "Glory," "Hallelujah," "Bless God" resounded from all parts of the house. At length one man more excitable than the rest arose and walked back and forth before the audience, shouting and clapping his hands and leaping for joy. But during the following week the question, "Who is that young man?" passed around, and the answer was, "It is crazy John Noyes, the Perfectionist." This was a damper! At the next meeting one of the leading patrons remarked in a bland but significant way, that the meetings were called free-and they were free-free for all to testify-that is, all who would keep with-in the limits of Methodist doctrine! Every one knew that this was to fence me out. But before the meeting closed I arose, and spoke at some length on topics which I knew belonged to Wesley's theology. So far as my speech alone was concerned ere was as much to call forth approving Amens as in the previous one. But it was received in blank silence.

My dear Sister -Although years have passed away since I saw your face, yet hearing you have obtained the faith of Jesus Christ I address you by the endearing appellation of sister, for we are one in Christ. Oh, what a glorious, blessed privilege! The spirit of life in Jesus Christ hath made me free from the law of sin and death. . . . I am happy. I have no anxiety, no care. I know the Lord is able to keep what I have committed unto him, and will keep it, even my all.

The Lord has brought some in this place to confess Christ a whole Savior from sin and death, and I trust he will bring more into the liberty of the gospel. I believe Brother J. H. Noyes is waxing strong, and testifying the truth with great power. His mother and sisters are rejoicing in the truth, though they have not confessed Christ. I think they will soon get the victory.

      I find by your letter you have been feeling the same ardent desire to increase in knowledge that I have the

 
past few days. I know that knowledge without charity puffeth up; but I would only have the one keep pace with the other. My desires have been more ardent than ever not only to increase in the knowledge of God's written word but in all other that is useful.
 

Westminster, March 10, 1836.

My dear Sister :-I received your kind letter, and I need not tell you the joy and comfort which it gave me. It is so refreshing to hear from one who does with the whole heart trust the Lord our God.

I have been to Putney the past week. I found the excitement against the doctrine of perfection to be much stronger than I have ever before known it. What it will amount to, I know not, but God will overrule it all for good. .

I think much of the promise, "Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst." I cannot say that I do not at times thirst for more of the presence of the living God, and there are times when I feel as if I were filled with his presence. Is this owing to my want of faith? I have no doubt at any time of my acceptance with him. I know and feel assured, that my sins are pardoned and that I am justified by his grace. Yet I do not think that I have felt that eternal security that some have; still I do not doubt it. I feel it my duty to be constantly pressing forward and ever on my guard against the snares of the adversary of souls. Perhaps you will say, You have no interest in the new covenant. I see much beauty in it, and feel that it is the only way we can

come to a knowledge of the Saviour; but I often feel that perhaps I have not sold all for the pearl of great price. God knoweth my heart, that, if I have not, it is my desire to do so.

Yours in the bonds of love,

MARY CLARK.
 

 
Putney, March 27, 1836.

 Dear Mrs. Crawford: -Having lately had conversation with you on subjects in which we have a mutual interest I feel an inclination to put pen to paper and send you some of my thoughts since I saw you.

Saturday after a very busy forenoon I went to my chamber, thinking to spend the remainder of the day much alone, and determined to improve the opportunity in attention to the subject of religion generally.

Though I had pretty much made up my mind that I would attend meeting and again unite in the ordinances of religion, I had concluded to wait some longer before I wholly decided. I have ever felt that outward observances of the church are of little value while the heart is not right, and I endeavored to divest myself of everything except communion with my own heart.

I found what fully settled my mind with regard to the church for the present. . . . Let us go forth and suffer with Christ without the gate, although it is a reproach and may expose us to a great deal more than we have any idea of. If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him.. .

Your affectionate friend,

P. NOYES.

Putney, April 2, 1836.

I thank you, Mrs. Noyes, for your views expressed to me in your communication this week. . . . I think your interpretation clearly scriptural. But what an enlarged and sublime view of the gospel does this present! How infinitely beyond anything we have ever received from former teaching! To see everything necessary to restore us to the purity of our first parents accomplished in Christ, and to know that all we have to do to receive the benefit is to heartily believe this!

Now how far are we accountable for not believing? Can we believe unto salvation, until we feel the power of the Holy Ghost in some degree showing us clearly, this is the truth? . . . It seems to me sometimes that I see so clearly the fullness there is in Christ, I would fain exercise the right kind of faith, if I only had the ability, but there is something so impenetrably hard within, that with all my reasonings and imaginary desires it still maintains firmly its post. Must we not feel that God only can subdue the heart, and that we must be as entirely helpless and dependent upon him and as free from all judgments and opinions of our own as an infant in the hands of its mother? Miss Clark told me that, although she intellectually saw that Christ came the second time at the destruction of Jerusalem, yet she had to be taught this again by God himself; and that there was nothing, which she before thought she firmly believed, but what she had been compelled to receive again in the same way.

I infer, Mrs. Noyes, from what you say relative

to attending meeting, that your views are something as mine have been ever since I have seen this "new and living way," whereby we may obtain access to God. I feel that we ought not in the most indirect manner uphold any system our consciences do not approve, and I believe that "the Most High dwelleth not in temples made with hands" but in true believers. I believe too that the endeavor to win those who differ from us by conforming to their ritual would only tend to stir them up to persecute us with something of the same spirit the Jews of Asia did Paul, when he was coil-forming to some of their Jewish customs. But I say also, "Let every one be fully persuaded in his own mind, that whatever we do we may do heartily, as unto the Lord and not unto man."

Mrs. Noyes, whenever you have any new or striking views which concern us mutually, I shall esteem it quite a favor to receive the communication of them.

Since I wrote the foregoing I have been told that John has returned. Is it true? If so, may I be permitted to know the reasons he gives? I always feel that what concerns John is not to be confined exclusively to the family of Esq. Noyes, but that all his brothers and sisters, of whom he has a vast number, are interested.

 Locust Grove, April 3, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Crawford -All I can say of John is, he has come home once more to entreat us to receive the Savior and be reconciled to God, and I am brought

under fearful apprehension that an awful crisis is at hand. I have had a great deal of conversation with him. I never thought him more spiritual or more consistent than he is now. I see the immense distance there is between the children of God and the children of this world. What we want is the baptism of the Holy Ghost. This it must be the prerogative of God to give. For this we can look and wait, and such faith as we have alone can keep us from despair. I cannot instruct others, while I am blind myself, but I adopt this as my best support: believe, believe, believe.

I went this morning with John over to Mr. Palmer's. We had a very pleasant interview. Their spirits are surely heavenly. John chose to remain there. He continues to unfold much truth, and to me vastly important, while at the same time he says things that make me think the struggle between flesh and spirit is carried to an extreme, and preys upon him. It is a trial for me, from which may God in his good time deliver me. .

Your affectionate friend,

P. NOYES.

Putney, April 5, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Noyes -Thank you for the contents of your last communication.. . . My anxieties and searchings are to this point at present, that Christ is in every human being, and that all previous to putting off the old man possessed of two natures, an old one and a new one. All the testimony I can find seems to decide the case affirmatively; still, it appears too

much to believe! I see a great change will be wrought in one who heartily receives this as truth, and I intend not to let it rest until I am decided. I should like to hear John speak on this, as he has on other subjects, at our discussion meetings. He would doubtless bring forth much more proof from the Bible than my limited researches have enabled me to do. Can we not have more of these social meetings? Not having the well of water within me, which springs up spontaneously, or not believing I have it, I find I am continually thirsting for the well of Jacob, that is, to feel that stimulus to desire which John's speaking or the paper creates. I know inthis way our meetings have done me' good, as well as having been the means of greatly increasing my knowledge.

It seems to me John has not come back for nought, but in some way to do good. It does not remind me of Matthew's predictions to hear that John warns you of an approaching crisis. No, it reminds me more of the warnings and denunciations of the prophets of old, and also of the warnings and cautions of the apostles during the transition period.

I wish, Mrs. Noyes, if it would not be too much trouble for you, you would occasionally write me John's ideas of things and subjects, which strike you as new and important. In this way you will greatly oblige me.

 Putney, April 7, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Crawford -I went over to see John yesterday. He appeared glad as usual to see me; said he was contented, and all appeared pleased and happy

-more, however than ever determined to crucify not only the lusts but affections. Thought he should not remain there long. What is before us, I know not. Mr. Palmer among other things said he considered it providential that John came there, as he had been taught by him many things which were of great use to him. Mrs. Palmer said that a year ago their home might be said to be where Satan's seat was; now it was the retired abode of a son of God. With other questions I asked her if she always had that witness within, that she needed no more assurance. She said for the week past she had not had so clear a witness as she had had; whether it was John's advanced faith or not, she did not know. For my part I don't know what to think. They united, however, to strip me of every source of comfort. John said, "Abandon everything but Christ." But he hides himself. Friends, children, Bible, prayer are all to me like senseless idols as to any real comfort, and, even the God I have so long worshipped I am ready to say, 'tis tome as an adversary, or that I do not know the true God.

You will not wonder that I say to all, take care of yourselves, no help can come from me. Is not this a day of burning? Shall we ever know peace? Shall we find any till God is pleased to reveal his Son in us?

Your affectionate friend,

P. NOYES.

Putney, About May 5, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Noyes :-Mr. Palmer spoke of John's visit at his house as being a great blessing to him. He

says he has obtained that knowledge of him, which he could not do by hearing him preach, and that he cannot now say, as Peter did of Christ, "I know not the man"; but he is willing to confess that he does know him notwithstanding his low repute, and he feels that he is no common person. I do believe we do not realize what a blessing we enjoy in having John in our midst. Oh, that his mouth could be opened to proclaim the gospel with the power that none could resist it!

The stupidity that rests on my mind-or heart I might more properly say, for I think much but feel little-is great indeed! Compared with last spring I find I am greatly behind. Then I enjoyed all, I believed, and I had a peace in believing intellectually, that I never felt before or since. I fear that this is the experience of many besides myself. One thing I do know, there is no peace to the wicked, nor to one who feels he commits sin.

With much respect,

T. M. CRAWFORD.
 

 Putney, May 16, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Crawford -We had a letter yesterday from John in New Haven. It is much in his usual style: will remain there a while, trusting quietly that his wants will be all supplied. What we shall hear next, I know not, but I am sure I shall be prepared for it, whatever it may be. I am now waiting on the Lord, that I may know what to say to him; and may He show me where is the door of hope!

If I can only begin a letter to Mrs. W., perhaps

yourself and Mrs. C. will add to it. I do not feel like sending anymore of John's letters out.

Your friend,

P. NOYES.

Putney, May 17, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Noyes :-What I said respecting your writing Abby I did not say reproachfully, but only to remind you and Harriet, that von encouraged her, when she left, to expect a letter sometime. Anything you could write relative to the truth would be very welcome. If you do not choose to say anything of John, you need not, for a letter I sent her not long since was nearly filled with his sayings and doings. Among other things I told her he had during the past season conducted himself so contrary to what the wisdom of this world would dictate, that some thought him a monomaniac. But Abby will not think so from remarks which I repeated to her: "A prophet is not without honor save in his own country, and among his own kindred."

It appears to me, Mrs. Noyes, from the manner in which you speak of John of late, that your mind is operated upon by two influences, one that is favorable to John and one that is not. I now speak relative to his being a son of God. If Jesus Christ has ever come in the flesh of his saints, I believe he is in John, and whatever appears strange to us, who only see through a glass darkly, may be accounted for on the supposition that he is not of this world. Had you not written

what you did at the close of your note, I should have begged the favor of reading John's letter. If he writes "as usual," he writes well. Mrs. Noyes, I hope God will enable you to feel confidently that he is the Lord's, and that He supplies all his wants. How can any one doubt John's being right, when they consider that he has literally as well as heartily obeyed Christ's injunction to forsake all for him. I wish I had such evidence of the piety of a single other individual that I have of his. And the vast amount of truth, which God has taught him and which we have heard, is another convincing proof of his genuineness.

I like your views, so far as you expressed them, on the passage you gave us for consideration. I think we must begin to feed on something more substantial than bread alone, "even upon every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." I know for myself that I do not enough hunger for this food. When we do really hunger and thirst for righteousness as for our bodily sustenance, "we shall be filled."

I often think of Mrs. Carrington's prayer, "Lord, teach me, teach me," and wish to adopt it as the language of my heart. I feel that we ought to glorify God by acknowledging what he has done in others in conforming them to his own image, but we ought not to depend on their teaching or assistance as though they possessed inherent power and goodness, but go ourselves to the fountain-head, that we may drink of the unadulterated spring.

I hope, Mrs. Noyes, you will feel disposed to go to the East Part of the town on Thursday, if we go. I think if you feel able, you will be much refreshed by

 meeting the good sisters there. I think some of them are in advance of us.

Yours,

T. CRAWFORD.

 Putney, May 30, 1836.

Dear Miss Holton:-Though I have never had the happiness of meeting you, you will allow me to introduce myself in this way as in some sense an acquaintance through the correspondence of yourself and friends in this place. Though I cannot speak in your language, I am interested, and hope I truly rejoice in the testimony you are enabled to give to the truth of the gospel.

 Putney, Sept. 15, 1836.

Dear Charlotte: -Miss Harriet Holton has been to New Haven, but she found Dutton gone, and heard nothing from John, though to see or hear fromthem was her principal object. She and Miss Clark are very much advanced.

 Putney, October 1836.

My dear Miss Holton -The Lord is doing wonders in the East Part of this town. There are many who are anxiously examining the truth, and some whoare rejoicing in God their Savior. Mr. Palmer, who has been one of the bitterest opposers of the doctrine

of holiness, now confesses Christ a whole Savior from sin, and is rejoicing in the truth. .

Professors of religion generally in this part of the town are more opposed to the doctrine of perfection than they were, since the attention of the people at tile East Part has been called to the subject. My sister Tirzah does not yet confess Christ, though she appears more and more engaged upon the subject. This is the case with many here. Mrs. Noyes, I believe, has ceased from her own works, and feels that she can trust Christ. Harriet and Charlotte, I fear, are not advancing at all. I have seen Mrs. Shaw several times. She is a shining light. She feels that she has entered the kingdom to go no more out forever.

Yours in love,

L. CAMPBELL.

Westminster, Nov. 7, 1836.

Dear Mrs. Crawford -Sister Maria visibly advances in the divine life, or rather sees and feels more clearly the fitliness of God. The Lord verifies his promise in her, "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles." We have taken sweet counsel together.

We rejoice in hearing of the advance of our brethren and sisters in Putney: that Sister Lydia is carried above what in the flesh would he called affliction. She can surely say with another, "Gold grows brighter by rubbing." We can join Sister Shaw in her testimony, that the way to stand fast in our liberty is to go forth in the strength and name of Christ

declare and make use of our liberty. "Reckon yourself indeed dead unto sin, and alive unto God."

We wish to hear from you. Love to the saints. Love to all the world from

H. A. HOLTON.

We have received the fifth number of The Perfectionist. I have read it through. It is rather too deep for me-some pieces, I mean. How I wish John would come home! Why doesn't he? For my part I think he ought to come and preach to us. There are Mr. Boyle and Dutton and Chapman about there, and we have none here. I wish, when you write, you would tell us where John is, what he is doing, what he says, and everything else about him; for how can we help wishing to know?

I cannot tell you what I think about perfection, for I am so unsettled that I do not know what to believe. Only I know this, I do not believe in the old way. Don't you think I am in a bad state?

      The two long articles in the December number of The Perfectionist I thought contained sound argument and threw a great deal of light on these subjects; and I think truth may be gathered from the paper generally. The last number was quite interesting. . .

 
Your father reads it with great interest and apparent satisfaction, though I have no reason to believe that his heart is touched. He talks like one who thinks on the subject....

Mr. Mead says your doctrine of faith, which leads us to see that we cannot serve God and Mammon, he thinks must do good, and that you give in some of your late letters the best exemplification of faith that he has met with in modern times.

Mary sends her love to you. She takes a great interest in your paper: says she never liked to read any paper half as well. Several of our Chesterfield people read it, and I think you will have a respectable list of subscribers here by and by. I have so many heresies of my own to answer for, I dare not be very active in propagating yours. I find, however, several are beginning to be inquisitive upon the subject.

Tell John we do want he should come home, not because we are anxious about him, but because we love him, and want to see him. Do make him come, if it is consistent with his avocations. . .

Have you become a Perfectionist yet? I think Mary has really got the faith.

 New Haven, April 28, 1835.

Dear Friends :-. . . I am very happy here; far

more so than I anticipated, when I left home. My opportunity for improvement is as great as it could be in any situation. And Mother, do not think that I shall forget the one thing needful. I could not well here, for religion is the theme that interests this family more than anything else at present. Of seven students boarding here six have become pious since I came. There is a great change in them. The death of Mrs. Herbert led them to reflect. They were before very gay. They are now so humble, so engaged. One lady boarding here is precisely like Abby Fitch - just so pious and always doing good. She is a tract distributor, and has given me an invitation to accompany her on an excursion of this kind this afternoon. I feel very much interested in her.

The revival in College is very powerful, but the city does not share in the blessing. Mr. Foot's meeting had little effect.

Horatio has just been in to tell me he has an appointment. It will be gratifying to Papa. I should think he stood high as to scholarship. He is quite animated with the idea of going home-thinks he will have a fine visit with John and all. I hope, if possible, he will go to Galway; * and why cannot one of the girls go with him?...

If the girls wish to know something about the fashions, I will tell them what I can. Their Tuscan bonnets are just as they make them here. Also they plait gauze ribbon around the front, either inside or out, as you please-narrow gauze ribbon, like the trimming,

 
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* Galway, New York, was the home of Noyes's sister, Elizabeth, who had married Dr. Ransom.-G. W. N.

 
or blond lace. I am going to get mine altered, and trimmed with yellow. If they are going to have new silk dresses. get blue black. Capes are made form, like their white scalloped ones, with a ruffle upon the edge, corded and plaited on with box plait. Muslin and lace worked capes and collars are much worn. . . . I don't know whether I can afford to make a present of the combs. The brass ones are too vulgar. These are gilt.

I am very glad John is at home, on his account. Hope he will stay, if consistent. The subject of Perfectionism is occasionally brought up by those I meet with, but none believe in it. I do not condemn it, but am sometimes placed in a rather unpleasant situation because of it.

I should be very glad if I had something to send more than love to all. Sometime perhaps I shall. But I do send a great deal of love. And do all write to me. Find all the fault with me that you wish to. Do not fear; it will do me good.

Yours affectionately,

JOANNA.

 Putney, August 3, 1835.

Dear Sister :-We hear by the way of Claremont, that Mrs. L. G. Mead attended a ball-a capital example of Perfectionism!-and that you said, furthermore, "that once you wouldn't have done it, but a Perfectionist might do anything." So you see that, though you live over the river and nine miles off, you cannot escape the breath of Putney slander.

New Haven, October 5, 1835.My dear Friends :-I cannot realize that Ihave so recently seen you. My visit at home seems like a dream, and I can remember scarcely anything about it. It was so hurried, I do not wonder. Besides, you know, I had only eyes and ears and mouth for my precious husband, and hardly a thought to bestow upon anybody or anything else. He is gone now, and I am beginning to look around to see where I am, and what I can find to supply his place. Alas! I am ready to say: "Ye have taken away my idols, and what have I left?" I now begin to think it would be very pleasant to go home and make a visit; not for the sake of the journey, nor to just look at you and off, but to go and sit down, and talk, and inquire into all your affairs, and tell you all mine. .

I remember with some regret the lectures I gave the girls. Poor Charlotte! I fear she will never forgive me, but I meant well. I could not bear to think that you were wasting your youth and talents, and cramping your geniuses in such a way. I do really think you would be more happy, and more useful, and more likely to subserve the end of your being, if you were to mingle more with society and cultivate and exercise social feelings. Instead of studying and thinking constantly upon doctrines and speculating upon human nature, you should try to make yourselves agreeable, and others happy; and do good to every one you meet, not merely by teaching them the way to heaven, but by showing them kindness and attention and by meet-

ing their offers of friendship with a hearty return. I say that you may love every one, if you will, and you will be the happier and better for it. Do you not think just as I do about this? I know you do, so now do begin to put in practice what you are so well convinced is true. I fear you will not, if you remain in Putney. It is hard to turn over a new leaf like this there. I thought at one time that I should commence housekeeping before long, and should have one or both of you with me a while, but I have pretty much given up the idea of it now until Samuel returns. . .. I wish in the meantime that you would go somewhere to school. Why not? Do not think that it will be of no advantage to you. It certainly will. Why not go to Hartford? Belinda loves the school there; so would you. Papa will let you go, if you wish. You would form some pleasant acquaintances, and would enjoy yourselves better than to stay at home. Go, and break away from all your bad habits of shutting yourselves up. Forget Putney and Putney folks and all the stories for the time. Learn to love everybody, and to please, and when you come back you will look upon everything with a different eye from what you do now.

I have written on just as the thoughts occurred to me. I suppose you will all laugh, but I am willing, if you will do as I wish to have you.

I have neither seen nor heard anything of John. Cannot think why hedoes not call, if he comes in town. We were good friends when I saw him last.

Yours affectionately,

J. NOYES HAYES.

The summer of 1836 opened with many unfavorable omens to the cause of Perfectionism. Boyle, Dutton and other leading spirits were as widely separated from each other as from John. Antislavery and other reforms absorbed what little enthusiasm they had left. In our family the same purpose to divide and scatter, if possible, was at work. An older sister Joanna, whose husband was in the West Indies, spent several months at home. She was a woman of great decision and strength of character-very attractive, and much beloved by us all. Naturally she was much interested in the education and prospects of her younger brothers and sisters. Though a church member her tastes and ambition led her toward worldly success. She saw and felt instinctively that John's influence over us was to lead us away from the world, and make us unfashionable, as he was. This, seen from her point of view, was to make life a failure. In May I was sent to a boarding-school in Hartford, and George's preparation for college was urged forward. Joanna took Harriet with her to Saratoga for a three weeks' visit. For the time being it looked as if we should all drift away with the tide.

Miss Draper's Seminary,

Hartford, May is, 1836.

Dear Brother Horatio -I thank you a thousand times for your letter, the more for its being unexpected... many important events were crowded

into last week. Elizabeth's departure for the far west, and your setting out in the world for yourself, and John and all-made me anxious to hear..

I had a very pleasant ride indeed to Hartford. .

We arrived about eight in the evening, and I found to my great joy that Miss Draper could accommodate me.

. . I find all the boarders pleasant, and like the rules and regulations very much. I think, all things considered, that by keeping "a stiff upper1ip" (as you used to say when we were in Boston) and a little philosophy to help I shall pass the summer pleasantly, and perhaps profitably. Now do give me one of your admirable orations, divided into twenty heads and fifty good reasons, comprising all the good advice and sage maxims you can think of. I suppose it will be comparatively tame on paper. I shall lose those significant looks, and emphatic pauses that used to make us all laugh so at home. .

I like living in a city very much. Don't you? I imagine there is a smile of contempt on your face at the mention of Hartford. when you are in NewYork.

Have you got Harriet those illustrations of "Gray's Elegy" that she wished? How do you think she enjoys herself? I imagine she is not obliged to retire to the garret for solitude now. . .

Here I am writing to you with all the calmness in the world, while Miss Gregory and two other girls are in my room actually crying for home! Youmay think me proof, if I can resist the contagion. . .

Your affectionate sister,

CHARLOTTE.

Dear Brother Horatio :-To quote the venerable Mrs. Dorothy: "The first tellers of unwelcome news have but a losing office"; vice versa, I hope for a gaining one. Won't it please you (that is all the gain I wish) to hear from Elizabeth, and her family, and her country? A letter is now before me, the address in her own handwriting, the postmark "Kalamazoo, Michigan Territory." As you cannot see the original, I will send you an epitome.

She commences with their leaving Galway. They were detained there by the rainy weather and consequent bad roads three weeks. On the 5th of June everything was ready, and they started upon their long journey. Through the State of New York they found beautiful country and flourishing towns. They passed part of a day in Buffalo, and crossed the river at Black Rock into Canada. Here the roads were almost impassable, and everything unpleasant. When she arrived at Detroit, she says, she felt once more at home, comparatively; and here she echoes the universal burst of admiration and delight on seeing the country-the soil -the wheat.

They reached Kalamazoo the 6th of July. Though they were often very much fatigued, the journey on the whole was beneficial to their health.. . . She says she was often reminded on her way of what Grandmother told her, that "she would have such a fatiguing journey, she would never wish to come back." "Indeed," she adds, "I sometimes felt so, but on getting rested I think it not so improbable, particularly

if there should be a railroad from this part of the country to Detroit."

Now I leave you, Horatio, to make your own comments and amplifications. There are a thousand interesting points, and none more so than the debt of gratitude we owe to Him, who has exceeded our anticipations and oh, vastly our desserts.

A gentleman called here last week, Mr. Patten. brother-in-law of Chauncey Dutton. . . . He reminded me of Lovett. Such a coincidence as there is in the character and feelings of all the Perfectionists cannot be accounted for en infidel principles. If God has a people on the earth, I believe they are that people. .

Who knows but I shall be in the Empire State next Sabbath as well as you! In as noisy a place as New York too. Can you guess where? What if I should go to Saratoga Springs with Joanna, as is our intention! You start. "What! that great, strong, bouncing girl going to the Springs!" Pish! I don't go for my health, Horatio, but because my father says I may, and I love to go about. We wish to get there if we go, before the great Temperance Convention the 4th of August. That will give us an opportunity of seeing great and good men, that we could seldom find. We shall stay a fortnight probably, if we go. . . . Perhaps we shall not go. We must not say, "Tomorrow we will do such or such a thing," but, "If the Lord will."

I have been reading Paulding's "Life of Washington," and have finished "Tapnet." That is an anomaly in novels, because we could not guess the end from the beginning or even the middle of the book. . . . I don't

 
approve of reading novels though-more especially when one has weak eyes, and none to read---and is thoughtless enough naturally.

George's school is done. He thought Mr. Wilder the perfection of a teacher..

Now I must say adieu. Be a good boy, and believe me still

Your loving sister,

H. H.. NOYES.
 

Putney, August 19, 1836.

My dear, dear Sister -How can I tell you what we have just heard from our dear sister Elizabeth! Yesterday morning we received a letter from her, written with trembling hand and tearful eyes, after just returning from the last sad ceremonies paid to her darling baby. Our dear little Theodore is dead. Can you believe it? . . . Poor Elizabeth? Her heart is almost broken. She says: "I try not to grieve, but can a mother forget? He was just beginning to creep, and was every way lovely and promising. "Only to think she was all alone from the time he was taken until the day he died-that is, without her husband to sustain her, or a brother or sister. What a heavy stroke for her, weak, and far away from home! But it was God who gave, and his kindness may be even greater in taking away. She says she means to seek the Lord with a whole heart, and receive an assurance of her salvation, for nothing else can support in affliction like hers.. . . Dr. Ransom feels the loss deeply. He idolized the babe, and "thought he could keep him

 
as long as he pleased, but God had other plans." He says that Michigan will do for men, but is no place for women and children. Elizabeth however says she does not feel as if their going there was the occasion of this. She thinks it very healthy, and the country very alluring to men of enterprise. But she says too, she never could be reconciled to going there; that their privations and hardships were too many.*

Would you like an account of our journey to Saratoga Springs? Let me look over my journal.

We were absent three weeks. George carried us to Fayetteville, where we took the western stage.

Highland Hall, our final depot, is situated in a retired, romantic spot, out of the village, and every way agreeable to ladies without protectors. Though Union and Congress Halls looked gayer and showier-had more of the pomp and glitter of pleasure-we concluded we were the happiest there. The board was five dollars per week; the house and table faultless. There were between thirty and forty boarders, all with-out exception pleasant-some fashionable. Most of them were pious, intelligent, rational people.

The great National Temperance Society held its convention while we were there. It was literally an august assembly, but I was disappointed. Indeed I was never more sensible of the weakness and insufficiency of man. We might expect at least sound reason and practical philosophy in a combination of such distinguished men, but instead of it much of the time was spent in what I thought trifling dispute and per-

 
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* Elizabeth succumbed to the hardships of her frontier home in 1841,at the age of thirty-four.-G. W. N.

sonal allusions. However, some of the addresses were interesting. For myself I valued most the opportunity of catching a glimpse of such men as Dr. Beecher and Dr. Graham, and hearing the effusions of their giant minds.

And now I am in Locust Grove again, pursuing the usual routine of making beds and sweeping and writing family letters. . . . No sociability here, as usual, but I am satisfied; in fact it is all the pleasanter. Just to think of the thousand disagreeable things which those avoid who turn a little one side of the great Broadway of the world, hive in one comb and eat their bread alone! If the Bible is true, at last and finally Religion is the thing of importance. Heaven grant that we may not forget it, nor despise our day of grace.

Your affectionate sister,

H. H. NOYES.

What do you think of John and Perfectionism now-a days? I hope that we shall not forget God, who is our Father and Savior. His favor is in reality worth everything else. and without it everything else will be a curse. Why don't we feel and realize this?

Examination commences a week from next Thurs-day, and closes Monday. Tuesday morning we Vermont girls start for our own green hills.  We are

I think that Harriet would enjoy herself very much to spend next winter here. If it is best, I hope you will let us both come.  Harriet, I shall be proud to show them a good scholar, for the fact is there are precious few here; at least I think us.

It was apparent to Noyes from the first that his new theory of the second coming of Christ would lead to a change of view regarding other prophecies of the Bible. During his six weeks' session with David Harrison at New Haven he had leisure to investigate this subject, and the conclusions to which he came are outlined below:

The second coming of Christ at the end of the Jewish age, and the dispensation of the fullness of times at the end of the Gentile age Noyes called "the two foci of prophecy." He found in the apocalyptic drama grouped around the former the first resurrection, the first judgment, the sealing of 144,000from the tribes of Israel; around the latter the final resurrection, the final judgment, the complete subjection of this world to Christ, the gathering of the universal church; intervening between the two the millennium, the binding and loosing of Satan, the testimony of Christ's two witnesses. According to this view the second coming of Christ, the resurrection and judgment of the Jewish nation, the millennium are past instead of future; and the next act to come is the final resurrection and judgment of mankind.

This regrouping of prophetic events involves a change in the popular conception of the millennium.

Noyes says: "It is generally assumed that the apocalyptic 'dragon' is the exclusive representative of evil, and that during the thousand years when he was bound (that is the millennium) righteousness and peace must have reigned supreme. But these qualities during the millennium are attributed in Rev. 20: 4-6 only to the martyrs of Jesus, not to the nations of the world. 'The rest of the dead lived not again until the thousand years were finished.' Hence death with its train of evils was not destroyed for mankind generally. Furthermore the above assumption leaves the 'beast' out of view. In the 12th and 13th chapters of Revelation we are authorized to suppose that while the dragon was bound the beast took his place. The millennium then was the period of the supremacy of the beast; and instead of being a period of glory to the inhabiters of the earth was a period of blasphemy, war and bondage.

Noyes regarded the apocalyptic dragon, who is also called "the Devil" and "Satan," as the special representative of idolatry; hence, in his view, the "binding of Satan" symbolized the suppression of idolatry throughout Christendom during the Middle Ages. The "bottomless pit," or more correctly the "abyss" or "sea," into which Satan was cast, Noyes understood as signifying the idolatrous regions of the eastern world, against which the Mohammedans for ages constituted a barrier. Signs of the "loosing of Satan" at the end of the thousand years Noyes saw in the decay of the Mohammedan power and the reenthronement of Greek and Roman (that is Pagan) intellect at the period of the Renaissance.

 
The "two witnesses," whose career according to the Apocalypse occupies the whole space between the first and second judgments, Noyes found reason in the Bible to identify with Moses and Elijah. Hence, when Christ said: "I will give power to my two witnesses, and they shall prophesy a thousand two hundred and three score days," Noyes understood him to mean: "I will give power to Moses and Elijah, who have been my witnesses and agents in the Jewish dispensation, and they shall continue their official work among the Gentiles for another period of 1260 years." The consequence of this theory Noyes stated thus:

"The dispensation which succeeded the apostolic age was not a continuation of the dispensation introduced by Christ, but of that committed to Moses and Elijah. It has plainly borne the marks of its secondary origin. We can readily trace in it the footsteps of Moses and Elijah but not of Christ. It has upheld the righteousness of the law, and has nourished within itself the hopes of the prophets. But the righteousness of God revealed by the gospel has been wanting."

The second coming of Christ, the first focus of prophecy, Noyes had definitely charted as having taken place at the destruction of Jerusalem in the year 70 A. D. The final riddle was the dating of the other focus, the dispensation of the fullness of times. In attempting a solution of this question Noyes, like William Miller and Bible commentators generally, based his calculation of the duration of the "times of the Gentiles" on Daniel's famous number, 2300 days (or years) ; but unlike them he found the starting-point of Daniel's number not at a date which was

involved in the uncertainties of early Jewish chronology, but at a date determined by reference to the destruction of Jerusalem, the chronological position of which was definitely known. His argument in brief was this:

Jeremiah had named only seventy years for the desolation of Israel. (Jer. 25: II.) It was in view of the unexpected prolongation of the sufferings of the Jews to 2300 years, that Daniel "fainted, and was sick certain days." Gabriel, who was commissioned to explain this mystery, said to Daniel (Dan. 9: 24): "Seventy weeks, [or 490 years] are determined upon thy people, and upon thy holy city, to finish the transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness, and to seal up the vision and prophecy, and to anoint the most Holy." Here is a much smaller number than that which so astonished Daniel in the first vision. Gabriel's explanation amounts to this:

Though the Gentiles shall have dominion over the Jews for 2300 years, yet the grand object of the Jewish dispensation-the coming of the Messiah and the establishment of everlasting righteousness-shall take place within490 years.

We have then two periods, 2300 years and 490 years, both starting from the same point, the first extending beyond our knowledge, the second terminating near the Christian era. Now if we can ascertain the date of the termination of this last period, we can reckon back and so find the date of the starting-point of both. "Seventy weeks are determined upon thy

people, and upon thy holy city." The objects, for the accomplishment of which this period is assigned, are evidently not merely the coming or the death of the Messiah, but the completion of the Jewish dispensation, including the finishing of the Scriptures, the fulfillment of the new covenant" with many," the final cessation of the daily sacrifice, and the destruction of Jerusalem. (Dan. 9: 24, 26, 27.) Thus from data furnished by the Bible we are obliged to affirm that the starting-point of Daniel's 2300 years was 490 years before the destruction of Jerusalem, or 420 years before the Christian era. Taking 420 from 2300 we have 1880 as the period when the sanctuary shall be cleansed, and the desolation of the Jews cease; which is the end of the times of the Gentiles-the day of final judgment.*

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* It is a singular coincidence that the Oneida Community, which Noyes regarded as a "sortie or raid from the kingdom of God" introductory to the actual establishment of that kingdom on the earth, came to an end in 1880.-G. W. N.

As I have said that the summer and fall of 1836 was the turning-point of Dutton's career, so I may say that it was the turning-point of my own and of the cause of holiness. It was the time when Boyle's administration came to a close, and when I began to act independently of my former associates and to take the place which I have since occupied. I commenced the war on "false brethren" and "false apostles" while at Newark by writing to Charles H. Weld a letter of renunciation. This was in effect a rending of all my previous attachments. Thenceforth my longing for friends looked forwards instead of backwards. The old set was broken up, and my hopes turned toward a new set to be gained on new principles.

Newark, N. J., September 1836. To Charles H. Weld

Our relations to each other during two or three years past have been apparently those of sincere Christian affection. On my own part the appearance corresponded to the reality until a little more than a year ago. The events of that period forced upon me the conviction that you were an enemy in disguise. Yet I

 
was not disposed to utter this conviction publicly, until every shadow of doubt had passed away. I have since had full leisure and opportunity to analyze your character. The darkness is past, and I am now prepared not only to assert but to prove to you and to all men, that you are "a child of the devil, an enemy of all righteousness."

To the end that our relations henceforth may be in appearance what they are in reality, I send you the following statement of facts. Let God and your own conscience be the judges of its truth.

By your own confession it appears that previous to our acquaintance you had suffered under the severest rebuke of God for drawing back from his call. Yet you had found a way to the highest seat in the spiritual synagogue, and could boast of paternal supremacy over such men as Finney, Boyle, Lansing and Theodore D. Weld. Without holiness and without a commission from the Most High you had assumed lordship over God's heritage; and when at length the doctrine of holiness was developed and the power of the Most High was manifested within your dominions, you were ready to take charge of its operations and make it a stepping-stone to a still higher advancement. At first I was too simple to match your subtleties, and for a season submitted to your assumption of paternal oversight, suffering you in a measure to check the boldness of my testimony. At length however I asserted the liberty of the Holy Ghost, and you were cast down from your throne into the horrors of the nethermost hell. I looked for a good result. But behold! You came up from the pit not with the sub-

dued penitence of a rebuked sinner, but with the dignity of a savior suffering for the sins of the world! You had won the laurels of the Lamb of God, and thenceforth your title to the throne of universal dominion was in your own imagination fully established. Unskilled as I was in the devices of Satan I gave place to your pretensions, and fell back into the place of a John the Baptist to you. Soon however my eyes were opened. During my sufferings in New York the snare was broken, and since then I have clearly seen the envious emulation of your spirit. Still I could not condemn you altogether, but hoped for your redemption. In the spring of 1835 you visited me at Putney, and I received you as a brother. At our first interview you confessed that an unsubdued devil was within you, and predicted your subsequent rebuke. The truth of your confession was soon manifest in the disguised yet perceptible chagrin of your spirit, when I refused to join you in your fanciful schemes of self-exaltation. From that time a war of wills commenced between us. God is my witness, that in that death-struggle I fought not for supremacy but for liberty. At length God gave me the victory at New Haven by smiting you with a second curse. Again you came up from hell a savior and a conqueror. I was not deceived the second time in respect to the nature of your sufferings. I knew with certainty that you suffered not for righteousness' sake but for cruelly oppressing a righteous man. Thus I was compelled to give you up as a reprobate and to scrutinize you as an adversary. I soon perceived that from the beginning your confession of Christ had been only a forced and

formal lip-service, submitted to for selfish purposes, as was also your confession of my relative standing. The proofs of your hypocrisy have since been constantly accumulating, until now I can no longer shrink from believing and declaring you to be in very deed and beyond hope according to your own confession a prince of devils.

God, who pleadeth the cause of his people, now says to me: "Behold, I have taken out of thine hand the cup of trembling, even the dregs of the cup of my fury; thou shalt no more drink it again. But I will put it into the hand of them that afflict thee, which have said to thy soul, Bow down, that we may go over: and thou hast laid thy body as the ground, and as the street, to them that went over." If your will had been done, I should have been the bridge by which you and all the unclean in this world and in hell would have passed over into the Holy City, for the doctrine of universal salvation was evidently the ground of your own hope. But God will ere long remove from your mind as he has from mine every vestige of such a hope. You must drink the cup you have given me, and that eternally. I have suffered personally more by the cruelty of your benevolence than by all other causes together; and the way of truth has been evil spoken of more by reason of the perverse things which have come in through youth an for all other reasons. For God's sake therefore and for his elect's sake I will lay bare your nakedness till you receive your full portion of everlasting shame and contempt. In conclusion, be it known to you, that in deceiving me you have deceived yourself; in murdering me you have

murdered yourself. By delusion you have driven me into certainty; by bondage you have driven me into liberty; by damnation you have driven me into heaven.

JOHN H. NOYES.

There are three different motives of human action:

the motive of fear, the motive of attraction to the things we are about, and the motive of attraction to a superior will, the will of God. New Haven Perfectionism started as a development of the third type of motive, that of attraction to the will of God. But after a while a spirit came in, which put in the place of attraction to the will of God a mere antinomian reference to inclination. It taught that whatever one is attracted to is the will of God. It opened the door for a complete riot of the imagination, and became the essence of pleasure-seeking. Charles H. Weld more than any other man brought this spirit into Perfectionism. He was extremely prudent, but wherever he thought it safe he insinuated sensual ideas about the kingdom of God. He uncovered enough in his conversations with me to make it certain that those were the primary ideas in his mind and that holiness was entirely secondary.

Then Weld by his undiscriminating benevolence brought Perfectionism into a variety of false fellowships. Instead of attending to the development of new truth that was going on at New Haven, he was all the time trying to hitch us on to some who had gone before and bring about a union in an unchaste way. He got into rapport with Latourette, the leader of legal Perfectionism, and introduced me to him as one of the heads of the cause. I commenced war on Latourette at once, but Weld's spiritual connection with him gave Latourette the run of the whole field and reduced all to a common level. Again it was Weld more than any one else who brought Gates with all his evil influences upon us. He was the first man among us who visited Gates, and his favorable report gave great currency to Gates'sfalse prophecies and anti organization views. He inoculated all of us with Gates's puttering attention to little signs and omens-devil's providences they might be called. This spirit gave me unspeakable torment, and it was months before I was entirely cured. Weld's tendency to helter-skelter running together with all who profess to be spiritual has been a great handicap to the cause, which we have had to work out of by the hardest.

His inordinate desire for preeminence I have sufficiently described in my Confession of Religious Experience. Others whom he touched and magnetized broke out with this same disease, and Mrs. Carrington, his only convert so far as I know, was the clearest specimen of inflated egotism we ever had among us.

Another characteristic of Weld was ineffectiveness of thought. His intellect was over-subtle and adapted

to make fog on any subject. He would admit the truth, but admit with it a thousand suppositions and doubts. Hence he never had in his mind clear principles which could be put to use.

Weld was also a marked example of imbecility of will. He was all the time like a person dreaming. A person who loves God and the central principles of the universe is in the waking state; to him spiritual things are realities, clear matters of fact. He not only perceives and delights in them, but lays hold of them, and they of him, so that he becomes identified with them and acts from them. Weld, on the other hand, though he perceived and delighted in the same things, did it in a dreamy way. Before he could get into action a collapse came on. Take for instance the declaration, "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other things shall be added unto you." That to me is an everyday reality. I fling myself on it at all hazards. Charles H. Weld saw that truth as plainly as I do, and could talk about it; but when anything was to be done to prove his faith in it, he collapsed.

The fact will be found when searched out, that Charles H. Weld was the head of antinomian Perfectionism-of sensual, imaginative Perfectionism-of the spirit that abandons all law, and professes to submit to God, but in reality submits to the devil, and then sinks down into folly, apostasy and death.

The alienation of Boyle commenced at the time of Noyes's conflict with Charles H. Weld in the summer of 1835. "Looking only on the outward appearance,"

 
wrote Noyes, "Boyle understood not the warfare in which I was engaged, and was offended at the apparent mysticism and fanaticism which attended it. The circumstances in which I was placed rapidly developed to my view many new and strange principles of spiritual philosophy; and, as is generally the ease with beginners, the language in which I spoke of them to others was probably not very lucid. Boyle took up the cudgels against the new spiritual principles. He denounced openly my 'eternal spinning,' as he called my progress in spiritual novelties. He hung up in his room a card enumerating the 'doctrines of devils' against which he protested. I only remember one of them, 'the fellowship of spirits.' At my first arrival in New Haven I had prepared an article entitled What We Believe, which Boyle willingly published in the Extra. But afterward he gave out word that he wanted no more of my contributions. He whipped me in the paper as hard as he could without calling my name, and his hostile influence among the believers left me from this time forward but little foot holdin New Haven."

The alienation thus commenced was carried further in the fall of 1835by the Gates-Boyle attack on Paul. Noyes always felt that his relation to Paul was peculiarly close, and this attack affected him deeply. Indeed he dated his abandonment of "Boyleism" from the time of the publication of Boyle's charges against Paul.

Finally a complete rupture was brought about by Noyes's renunciation letter to Charles H. Weld. Boyle dissented strongly from Noyes's judgment of Weld,

and tried to persuade him to take a different attitude. Finding that Noyes was immovable, Boyle at last in an interview at the home of Abram C. Smith declared "everlasting separation." Noyes replied, "Amen."

For more than three years, while Noyes was without means of publishing, the Gates-Boyle attack on Paul remained unchallenged in print; but after Noyes had established a press of his own, he published a rejoinder, from which the following is an extract:

The two foremost assertions of original New Haven Perfectionism were first, that perfect and perpetual holiness is the only standard of true Christianity, and second, that the apostle Paul was a living example of such holiness. Take away these assertions with their antecedents and consequences, and New Haven Perfectionism has neither soul nor body-is but the name of a nonentity. And yet it is true, though it is nearly incredible, that T.R. Gates, the most naked and presumptuous of all impugners of these assertions, was not only recognized as a Christian brother for a long time by Weld and Boyle, but was actually suffered to assume over them the office of spiritual leader.

And indeed the shepherds who let (or rather brought) the wolf into the fold did not even put him to the trouble of disguising himself with sheep's clothing. With the full means of knowing that Gates openly rejected the most essential doctrines of Perfectionism Boyle advertised The Reformer and Christian as a publication "eminently designed to do good," and thenceforward gave to the writings of Gates the larg-

 
est place in The Perfectionist. Thus emboldened and invited Gates was not backward in availing himself of the privilege of peaceably putting an end to the troublesome doctrine of perfect holiness by making The Perfectionist itself the medium of its own refutation. In November1835 he ceased publishing The Reformer and Christian, and after highly commending The Perfectionist as a sufficient substitute for his own publications he announced that in future he should communicate his views through that paper. Accordingly in the next number of The Perfectionist the leading article is from his pen; and the leading object of that article is to prove that the Lord's apostles, especially Paul, had not "attained to righteousness"-had not "entered in by the door"-were in a measure thieves and robbers!" As a corollary to this he insinuates as boldly as he dares, that none have yet attained to righteousness, andof course that Perfectionists in their professions of holiness are either fools or impostors. And all this passed with Boyle for good orthodox Perfectionism.

I cannot but believe that this is an instance of imposture and effrontery on the one side and of credulity and tergiversation on the other wholly unprecedented in the annals of religious iniquity and folly.

In the latter part of February 1837 Abram C. Smith wrote to Noyes:

"I received a letter from Latourette last week. He saith my great sin is to have some other arm besides the Lord's to lean upon. He saith farther that he is hid from those flesh-pots and slime-pits who call themselves Perfectionists; and if I do not take heed, God

will remove me as with a stroke, as he did Absalom the fool."

About a month later, while Noyes was sojourning in the vicinity of New York, he wrote to Latourette recounting the circumstances of their first meeting,* and added:

"I saw the crooked character of your mind in this affair at the time; yet I did not condemn you, but have since been waiting for the proof of you. . . . If you can clear yourself of these charges, I shall most gladly greet you as a brother. If you kick against the pricks, I shall expose and overthrow you, though you carry a spear like a weaver's beam, and defy the armies of the living God with the voice of a Goliath."
 

New York, April 5, 1837. My dear young man :-

I received your letter, and was quite pleased to see how you handled my old man.

I am hid with Christ in the Rock, or in the Law of God. .. . I have much to mourn for, and lament that we are such poor and feeble and ignorant creatures by nature; and without the sweet grace of God we are not able to do any good acts nor think a good thought.

Relative to your letter I can say, You do say rightly. You do not know me. And you may strive to know me and never know me, until you are dead indeed unto sin and alive unto God-alive to thy duty to society in aiding in earning bread, temporal and spiritual, and clothing, spiritual and temporal. . .

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*See pp.133-134.

Now why is it that you do not fellowship me? Is it because I have not got a good spirit of love, truth and faith in my blessed Lord and Master? I will tell thee, my brother:

Thou art not yet in the inner court, and have not been called there; and as Hagar to Sarah, and Ishmael to Isaac, so your spirit has treated me. .

Now let me say unto thee, my dear young man, God our Father is not dependent upon us, and yet we are dependent entirely upon him.

You have, no doubt, many views of the beauties of King Solomon: so had his concubines; so had Hagar of Abraham's honors, yet none of these were married wives.

I can recommend thee to seek to know the Shepherd's voice, and then be wise, and not be led by a stranger. .

I perceive thy letter is written from the left hand, hence you know me not, nor do you yet know your right from your left.

I am the servant to servants, surnamed

New York, April 5, 1837. To James Latourette

The meaning of your letter stripped of its sheep's clothing is simply this: "Your charges are false, and not worthy of a reply. You are a young man; you do not know your right hand from your left; you are not dead to sin; you know not God nor me; you are too idle to get your living." On the second page of

my letter you will find the following words: "If you are one of those who say they are apostles, and are not, but do lie, you will probably deny the facts I have stated, and rebut the plainness of speech, with which I shall further prove you, by retort and reviling." You intended to evade the test, but you have so exactly fulfilled my prediction, that my course is made plain. "Thanks be unto God, who taketh the wise in their own craftiness."