Her Father's Second Marriage—Convictions Renewed
Her father’s second marriage — Convictions renewed — A disappointment — An infidel neighbor — Obedience to her father — Reply to Mr. Wade’s objections to Christianity — Attendance on Chui-ch — Prohibition of religious associations — The school-house — Deep distress — Religious joy.
In the year 1808, my father having married again, I returned to my home at Connecticut Farms. The Presbyterian church was near my father’s house, and I attended regularly. I remained in much the same state of mind till I was fourteen years of age. At this time there was a revival of religion in the Church, and several of my schoolmates were led earnestly to inquire what they should do to be saved. All my former convictions now returned, and my tears began again to flow. My dear grandmother, who was my counselor and guide, often took me to Church with her. One evenins, as we were about startinqfor Church, my father stopped me, and said, “Mary, I do not wish you to go to Church to-night.” I was greatly surprised, but felt that I must obey. I returned to my room much disappointed. I afterward heard my grandmother talking with my father as to the propriety of my going. She soon called me to go “with her, but knowing that I should not have the entire approbation of my father I would not consent to do so. After taking off my things, I took my Bible, went down stairs, and seated myself in one corner of the room to read. While sitting there an old friend and neighbor of my father’s came in. He was an infidel, and, of course, had no respect for religion. As soon as he saw me he said:
“How is it, Mary, that you are not at meeting to-night? My girls told me you were going to get religion.”
I was greatly embarrassed at being thus addressed, but replied that my father had desired me not to go, and as I had never before disobeyed him, I did not like to do it now, though it had cost me a great struggle to submit.
“How is that,” said he, turning to my father; “is that true?”
“Yes,” said my father, “she has never in her life disobeyed me.”
“Well,” said Mr. Wade, “that is more than I can say for my children. They are all off to Church to-night without my sanction. But what is that you have in your hand? A Billet
I see. What good will that do you? Do you suppose that it is true?”
“Mr. Wade,” said I, “do you think good men or bad men wrote the Bible?”
“Why, bad men, to be sure.’*
“Do you think, Mr. Wade, that bad men would put their lives in jeopardy, and suffer every privation and distress, for that which they knew was not true, just for the sake of inculcating false doctrines?”
He could not answer me, but my father turned around, and said rather sharply, “Do you pretend to teach those who are so much older than you?” In a few minutes they both left the room. My father, however, soon returned, and having seated himself near me, said,
“Mary, I have noticed, for some time past, that you have been very unhappy. Your tears are falling constantly. This religion is making you too gloomy. Besides, if you keep on in this way you will soon be crazy.”
I scarcely knew what to say, but spoke of ray grandmother and several other Christians, who were always happy. But this did not seem to affect him; and as I sat with my Bible still in my lap, he said, “Is there no other book but that for you to read? You must lay it aside: it makes you unhappy.” I ventured to ask him if I might go to meeting the next night, to which he promptly answered, “No: neither shall you visit any of your religious relatives or friends.” I now thought it was all over with me, and that I would be lost forever. Even my dear grandmother was forbidden to speak to me on the subject of the greatest possible interest. The next evening there was to be an inquiry meeting at the school-house, for serious persons. This room was situated at the corner of my father’s orchard. When it was near time for the meeting I stationed myself at the window, where I could see my companions coming over the hills in every direction to the school-house. 0, how I envied them, and longed to be with them, and have some words of encouragement spoken to me! But I was deprived of thai comfort. My heart sank within me, as I looked upon myself as an outcast, forsaken of God and man. With these feelings I rushed into the garden, threw myself upon the ground, and wept and prayed. I arose, but felt no better. I walked on till I reached the barn. * ‘Here,” I thought, * ‘I will try the Spirit once more.” I again kneeled: I prayed, I groaned, I besought God. But all within wa? darkness and gloom. I arose and walked toward an apple-tree. Here I kneeled and prayed the third time. I then passed on, unconscious where I was going, till I found myself almost under the windows of the school-house. I paused and listened to what was said. The minister was encouraa’inp- the seekers to go on, and strive to enter into the strait gate. He repeated from Scripture these words, “Wisdom’s ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.” As they fell upon my ears all was hushed and calm within. The Lord, in his great love, had bidden the tempest cease. I looked up; the moon was shining brightly; every thing looked peaceful and happy. I then returned; I visited the different places where I had prayed, and in each of them prostrated myself before God, and praised him for his goodness and mercy toward me. I commenced singing,
“O, when shall I see Jesus,
And I’eign with him above,
And from that flowing fountain
Drink everlasting love?”
Thus, when cut off from all outward means of grace, I discovered how easy it was for
Him who had spoken worlds from naught to say, ‘’Daughter, be of good cheer: thy sins, which are many, are forgiven thee.” In the day that I sought him with all my heart he proved himself a God not afar off — a very present help in time of trouble.