dation, and could not repress the thought that an answer to the question," who hath redness of eyes?" was very obvious. We have known something of the intimate connexion between their place of meeting and the grog-shop and bar-room. But here is a witness from the very center of the Universalist camp, who has seen all its stations from that center to its outposts, who has observed all the host from its leaders to its lowest subaltern, who reveals the whole of what we had seen but a part, and, testifying to the utter corruption and rottenness of the system, more than confirms our observation, and fully substantiates our reasonings from the nature of the case. Mr. Smith has taken us into the "chambers of imagery" of Universalism. He has shown to us the interior life of its ministry and their hearers. He has proved to us by demonstration that Universalism, which outwardly is by no means a whited and beautiful sepulcher, is surely full of all uncleanness" within. His testimony is that of one who entered on his ministerial office with enthusiasm, and performed its duties with great popularity, but by the moral results of the faith, was disappointed, disgusted, shocked, till sensibility and conscience could endure no longer. We shall therefore, in our review of Mr. Smith's work, dwell principally on these two points. It is a fact well worthy of our no. tice, that Mr. Smith did not become a Universalist in opposition to early religious instruction, to all those associations which cluster around the family altar, and to the sacred and undying influences which parental fidelity implants in the heart. Universalism was the religion of his childhood. He says "I never enjoyed early religious instruction. In my father's house there was no family altar; no voice of prayer was there heard; no reading of the Bible as an act of worship. I never enjoyed the benefit of Sabbath school instruction; no friend told me of God; no one instructed me to lisp his name, or fear his law. I have no recollection of having ever passed a night in my life, till I was more than twenty years of age, in a house in which there was family prayer, or the reading of the Bible, as an act of religious worship. "My earliest recollections as to religion, are identified with Universalism." When I was six years of age, my father embraced the doctrine of Universalism, and became a preacher of the system. Nearly all that I heard upon the subject of religion, was favorable to Universalism; nearly all my relatives were of that faith; and almost all my acquaintances received the same sentiments. Very early I imbibed a hatred toward all systems that differed from this. So soon were the seeds of error planted in my heart." pp. 7, 8. When he was sixteen years of age, his attention was turned to the subject of personal religion. A seriousness prevailed among his associates, the influence of which he felt. He thought his life was not what it should be, and that his heart was not right in the sight of God. His feelings were enlisted, and in some measure changed, so that he read the Bible with pleasure, and in some small meetings urged his fel low men to repentance. But unfor tunately, being in a community far from evangelical, and falling in with teachers of Universalism, and being assured that Universalism and personal piety could harmonize, his religious interest was turned into that evil channel. He adopted the system of Universalism, began preparation for its ministry, and preached his first sermon in Medway, Mass., when between seventeen and eighteen years of age. About a year after, in December, 1829, he removed to Vermont, to take charge of two Universalist societies, one in Brattleboro' and the other in Guilford. Having unbounded confi dence in the system which he had adopted, he had no doubt that it would work a great moral change in society, and used every exertion to spread that system, preaching with all the ardor of youth and all the fervor of sincerity. How his expectations were answered, he thus informs us. "At the very outset, I was mortified at the results of my ministry, and pained with what I saw in those who were the loudest in their professions of regard for the blessed doctrine,' as Universalism was usually called. I saw none of that reform which I expected would attend my preaching; no moral reformation, though none needed it more than my personal friends; no change for the better, though I saw many changes for the worse." "I was praised in the bar rooms, and my health drank in almost every tavern in the county. On the Sabbath, my congregation came direct from the tavern to my meeting, and went as directly back to the tavern after the meeting. The intermission was usually passed in discussing the merits of the sermon, not always in the most decorous terins; and in drinking my health, with their best wishes for my successful vindication of the salvation of all men." "While those who attended upon my ministry were called the liberal party, I knew that most of them were profane men; a large portion were open disbelievers in the inspiration of the Bible; and nearly all had been peculiar for their habits of Sabbath violation, passing the day in business or in pleasure. In all things, save an attendance upon my preaching, they remained professedly and really the same. Men came together, but not to be made better. They seemed to desire that their hands might be strengthened in sin; and thought the end of preaching to be, to prove that all retribution was limited to this life, and that all men would finally be saved. When occasionally I urged upon my hearers the duties of life, and lightly reproved their vices, I was told that such preaching was decidedly illiberal, and very much like the orthodox. Nor were profaneness, gambling, Sabbath-breaking, or infidelity, regarded as in any respect inconsistent with a profession of Universalism. One of the officers of my society in Guilford, was in the habit of going into the adjoining towns to hear me preach; and I have known him repeatedly to pass nearly the whole Saturday night in gambling with young men at a tavern-young men whom he had invi ted to accompany him to meeting. And at the same time this individual was engaged in a controversy in a secular paper with a Methodist clergyman, upon the moral tendency of Universalism!" "One uniform tendency accompanied Universalism in all places. One class of men hailed the doctrine, and wished the preacher abundant success." 19 "Often have I been complimented with oaths; heard the scoffer and the vile hope the good work would go on; and been wished success in language too foul and offen'sive to be repeated. When I saw a man in my congregation of an intelligent appearance, I presumed him to be an infidel, and never in this respect was I mistaken." pp. 10, 11, 12. "Often," he says, "in the soli tude of my study, such questions as these, searching and painful, would arise. 'Does good attend your preaching? Do profaneness, Sabbath-breaking, intemperance, licentiousness, fly at the approach of your faith? Do religious fear, godliness, holiness, distinguish its reception among men?" " These reflections, though they made him unhappy, did not yet shake his faith in his system. He consoled himself with the thought, that the fault was fessors. not in Universalism, but in its pro In the year 1832, he accepted an invitation to take charge of the Universalist society in Hartford. There he attracted a large congregation, and was highly esteemed and well supported by his society. But no good moral results attended his ministry. The founders and chief supporters of the society, its clerk, a majority of its committee, and seven eighths of the pew-holders, were undisguised infidels. "But," he says, "the absence of good moral results was not the only evil with which I was called to coutend. I not only turned no sinner from the error of his ways; called back no soul from the road of death; but I saw positive evils attending my labors. Many who attendand more were waxing worse and worse. ed my ministry were grossly immoral, "One fact that transpired among others, made me very unhappy. evenings my church was usually crowded On Sabbath with young men. Many of these would leave the bar-rooms and dram-shops in the vicinity of my meeting-house, attend my lecture, and then retire again, at its close, to those places of infamy, and there pass nearly the whole night. They would drink my health, and praise me profaneness and blasphemy." pp. 16, 17. and my sermons in the awful words of Oppressed beyond measure by these facts; not willing to do his fellow men an injury, yet knowing that many could justly accuse him as the author of their ruin; mortified and appalled at the contrast between the character and spirit of the. orthodox community and that of his own community, and between the results of orthodox preaching and those of his own; harassed by doubts, and worn down by anxiety and incessant labor, his health and reason gave way. During his mental alienation, his whole theme was Universalism, its tendency, and the insufficiency of the proof adduced for its support. On this subject he had conversations at that time with two of the pastors of that city, in which he revealed what was passing in his mind. After he had partially recovered his health, feeling that he could remain no longer in Hartford, he resigned his charge, resolved to seek another field of labor. Compelled to reject ultra Universalism, he adopted the doctrine of limited future punishment. Distressed at the immo ralities of his denomination, he determined to preach less against the faith of other sects, and more against the sins of his own society; less upon the certainty of the salvation of all men, and more upon the duties of life. He was soon settled over a Universalist society in Salem. There his congregation was one of the largest in the city; but the practical results of his ministry were the same as before. He could not rest in the doctrine, which by an ascending step he had adopt ed, of limited future punishment. Its effect was much the same as that of ultra Universalism, and moreover he could find in the Bible no evidence of any limit to future punishment, and the same reasons by which he proved any punishment hereafter, demanded its perpetuity. Yet, unable to give up his faith in the ultimate salvation of all men, determined to cling to that, he was greatly distressed, and could find no peace unless by a great effort he banished the whole subject from his mind, and turned his attention to something else. He wrote and preached often under the influence of doubts almost overwhelming. Once in order to remove his doubts, he wrote a sermon in which he presented in the strongest form all the arguments he could think of in defense of Universalism. He preached the sermon but once, and though his people requested it for the press, he committed it to the flames. When he conversed with his ministerial associates for relief, he did not experi ence it, but often found them in deeper difficulty than himself. He resolved at length to dismiss the subject of man's destiny altogether from his sermons, and to preach on moral subjects and the practical duties of life, without saying any thing in respect to the final salvation of all men. "This change," he says, "in the subjects of my sermons was soon noticed, and complained of. Some desired a lityouth ought to be indoctrinated, and that tle more doctrine. Others thought the the minister ought to do it. From various sources, I would hear that strangers who entered my church could not tell considered it a reproach, that men could what my views were; and my society hear a Universalist preach, and not know whether or not he believed that all men would be saved. While others, out of regard to my health and ease, desired me to preach some of my old sermons-the design being to obtain the doctrine which those sermons were known to contain." P. 28. But notwithstanding this farther change, his mind was not at rest. He had dismissed the subject of man's final destiny from his preaching, but he could not dismiss it from his thoughts. And though he did not yet give up his faith in the ultimate salvation of all men, he felt that as an honest man he could no longer represent a system which was plainly at war with the interests of his race. He therefore wrote a letter to the committee of the Uni versalist society, in which among other things, he said: "If I could serve the society without acting in concert or being identified with the denomination of Universalists, I should be ready and happy so to do. "If, however, the society should insist upon such a concert of action, I shall hold myself ready, cheerfully, and with the kindest feelings, forthwith to tender my resignation of the office of pastor, and with it all the duties, trials, and responsibilities of that trust.' p. 30. The committee to whom this letter was sent, called upon him to induce him to take it back-expressed their surprise-thought he was committing a suicidal act, and assured him that if he would take back the letter and continue his labors, they would pledge him their honors that no mortal should ever know that it had been written. He told them that the sentiments he had expressed remained unchanged, and that he could not eat the bread of dishonesty-resigned his office, and from that hour has had no official connexion with Universalism. Impelled by his increasing doubts about the ultimate salvation of all men, he resolved thoroughly and faithfully to review and weigh all the arguments for and against that doctrine. The result of this review was his full conviction, "that Universalism is as false in theory as it is destructive in practice." But the same gracious Spirit who had led him to reject that false system, still urged him on, and pressed the inquiry, "What is truth?" For the system denominated orthodoxy he had by early association and long habit the most perfect contempt and abhorrence. Still, he was constrained to look at religion as a personal concern, and to consider the question, whether he had met with that change and formed that character which the Bible declares to be essential to salvation. "I felt," says he, "that there was a reality in religion, which I had never known, a power that I had never enjoy ed. I longed for something that would take hold of my own heart, and allow me to speak to the hearts of my fellow men. I was now, in a measure, afloat. I had no settled opinions upon religion. On what side soever I turned, I found difficulties; and on all sides, the horizon was black indeed." "I had no religious acquaintance, to whom I could unburden my mind. My sufferings were great; my anguish more exquisite than language can paint. I did not know where to go, or to whom I could speak; and it seemed to me literally, that no man cared for my soul.' I would have given all I possessed, to have found some friend to whom I could have unbosomed myself; who would have said some kind thing, or bid me hope in God. But I did not dare trust even my own family. Though it seemed to me that every man I met read my feelings in my countenance, I kept them to myself till I was carried almost into my grave." "A complaint which, from my childhood, has been the bane of my existence, and which in Hartford had led to temporary derangement, threatened to return. I was admonished that it was time to seek medical advice." pp. 33, 34. Finding that he could not otherwise answer necessary questions, he unburdened his mind to his physician, who warmly sympathized with him, and urged him not to incur the great hazard of bearing this state of feeling alone, but to seek assistance from some religious teacher. Unwilling to commit himself by seeking sympathy or instruction from those near him, with a trembling spirit and great anxiety he wrote to Rev. Dr. Hawes, with whom he had some acquaintance, and communicated to him his difficulties. The answer, which was sent immediately, was such as might have been expected in such circumstances, from such a source. "A letter," says Mr. S., "so full of Christian sympathy I did not expect, and, I know not why, I was unmanned for a season, and unfitted for any duty. As soon as my feelings subsided, I resolved to be a Christian, if God would. give me grace, to live in his service, and die in his cause. "But peace came not in an hour. A deep probing of my own soul took place. My sins were set in order before me, and unless help came from the cross, I felt that I must perish, and perish most justly. Against great light I had sinned, and I long and wilfully resisted the truth. had employed my strength in strengthening the hands of the wicked, and peopling the world of despair with immor tal souls. What right had I to expect mercy? what claim upon the grace of God? I was encompassed with awful fears. My days were wretched-my nights were passed in anguish that drove sleep from my pillow. I was awfully tempted to leave this world unbidden, but I dared not do it. I was certain, if I did, I should go to hell. My appetite was gone, my health declining, my strength almost exhausted. O, the wormwood and the gall of those dark and try; ing moments! How vivid they stand out upon my memory! How harrowing the recital! I have barely firmness sufficient to pen these events. "But God at last heard my prayer, and gave me peace." pp. 40, 41. To his great surprise and joy, when, with much solicitude as to the result, he communicated his feelings to his wife, he found that she was prepared fully to sympathize with him. Her faith in Universalism was first shaken by the conduct and conversation of Universalist ministers who visited at his house. She felt that a system could be neither true nor profitable which had such advocates; and several months before his conversion, she had found the Savior precious to her soul; though from fear that a knowledge of her change would make him unhappy, she had not communicated it to him. "Could any one marvel," he asks, "that our first family altar should be one of thanksgiving to that God who had opened our eyes, touched our hearts, and enabled us to begin together a new life in Christ ?" But his long course of distress as to the moral results of his preach ing, and of doubt as to its truth; his subsequent unsettled state, his conviction of sin, and anxiety as to his own salvation, together with the hatred and calumny and varied persecution of his former associates and friends, which affected the public mind with suspicion and distrust; the excitement of addressing in these circumstances an immense congregation on the subject of his Vol. I. 6 change of views; the anxiety attending an examination before an association of pastors for license to preach the Gospel, and before the Tabernacle church in Salem for admission to its communion, added to repeated and exciting conversations and arguments with his Universalist acquaintance, were too much both for body and mind. The disease to which he was liable triumphed for several weeks, during which, under the influence of suggestions and objections urged by his former friends, his mind vacillated respecting the strict eternity of future punishment. Taking advantage of this, his enemies raised the shout that he had returned to Universalism. At this time, for the restoration of his health, and for advice and sympathy, he made a visit to Rev. Dr. Hawes. While in his family his health was improved, his mind became calm and decided, and his heart fixed. "It is but just to say," he remarks, "that, if I shall ever be of any service in the ministry of Jesus Christ, it will be very much owing to the friendly attentions, the judicious instructions, and the Christian sympathy, which I received from Dr. Hawes, his kind family, and his affectionate church." p. 48. After this he spent a few months in New Haven, attending to theological study, where, on the last Sabbath in the year 1840, "a year full of change, anxiety and suffering," he, together with his wife, entered, on profession of their faith, into communion with the First church, in that city. During the next month he took license to preach, from the New Haven West Association, and since that time has been constantly, and we hardly need say successfully, employed in building up the faith which he once destroyed. He is now the regular pastor of a Congregational church in Nashua, N. H. It is a most interesting fact, that Mr. Smith is the child of a pious |