The Cornerstone

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The Cornerstone

  a brief life of John Murray for young people, by Irene Carrow Rees

I. John Arrives

If the father of John Murray could have known when he first looked with so much joy in the face of his baby son on the morning of December 10, 1741, that the boy would be known to future generations across the sea as a prophet of any such "wild and infamous doctrine" as Universalism, his grief and indignation would have known no bounds.

The Murrays lived in Alton, a small town of Hampshire, England, about eighteen miles from South Hampton, and forty-eight from London. Mr. Murray was an Episcopalian, his wife a Presbyterian, but there was little to choose between them as both were rigid Calvinists, strict believers in the two most dreadful doctrines of the time, "election" and "the damnation of unbaptized infants."

After the fashion of good English wives, Mrs. Murray held that her husband should rule in matters religious as in all else, and John was early baptized at his home by an Episcopal minister. In all. probability some sudden illness alarmed his parents, as it was customary to defer this ceremony until the child could be received at the altar. He was scarcely two when his baby sister was taken to the church for or baptism and at the same time be was formally presented to the congregation. The rector held him in his arms during the consecration prayer and at its conclusion John spoke his first word, a perfectly audible "Amen. " A confused murmur of astonishment and approval stirred the kneeling congregation and his gratified parents sobbed aloud. His behavior on this occasion was long spoken of as a sign of God's favor and a happy omen of future usefulness, especially as for some time he spoke no other intelligible word.

John seems to have been a vigorous, sociable little fellow, fond of outdoor life, and naturally of a merry disposition, which was all wrong from a Calvinistic point of view. Fears and melancholy were alone considered acceptable to the eighteenth century God. One of the foremost ministers of the time once remarked that he would rather be in the company of ten thousand demons than ten laughing persons. This sentiment found favor with Mr. Murray, who endeavored to early impress his lively boy with its truth. He regarded his son with great pride and affection but treated him with such severity that the child feared rather than loved him. John "studiously avoided his presence and richly enjoyed his absence."

He was considered far too fond of play to give the proper attention to study, yet at the age of six he could read the Bible, though not always correctly. He had a clever way of filling up the gaps made by unpronounceable words with ideas of his own. On rare occasions his father would smile at this adroitness but more often John was brought to a sense of his shortcomings by a staggering blow on the ear.

His father's gloomy religious teachings soon began to fill him with terror. When he was ten years old he suffered with the fear of eternal torment and his father rejoiced in his sufferings as a sign that he was elected of God to eternal life. There were periods when his spirits ran away with him and he forgot his fear of the rod in this world and never ending misery in the next long enough to indulge in some innocent frolic. He was made to repent with floods of tears and promises never more to offend his father or his father's God. He dared not say "my God," as such a remark, should he not chance to be one of God's elect, would make his predicament in the next world many times worse, if that was possible.

John had three brothers and five sisters whom he dearly loved, a proof of the uncommon sweetness of his disposition, since they were used as a spur to incite him to still greater effort to righteousness. If he failed to be a sober-minded, pious little boy, be would, by example, drag them down to perdition with himself. To be responsible for seven souls besides his own was a heavy burden for small shoulders. "I had nothing to hope and everything to fear ear both from my Creator and from my father," he said, pathetically.

When John was ten the Murrays removed to Ireland. Mr. Murray decided to leave in advance of the family and little John, who dreaded going anywhere with him, was selected as his companion. The boy speedily forgot his fear in the delights of travel and enjoyed the experience with small regard to future consequences. He was so lively in London that his father was in continual dread of losing him and doubled his watchful severity which only quickened John's desire to make good use of any scraps of liberty that fell to him.

They left London in April, 1751, and at Pill, five miles from Bristol, John came near ending his career. His spirit of adventure led him to climb into and loosen a boat which was attached to one of the wharves. He had no intention of going more than a short distance from the shore, but the Bristol River is very rapid and the force of the current whirled him into the channel. Fortunately the tide was at flood and the boat was borne swiftly up the river instead of towards the sea. After a very harrowing experience he passed close to a large flat-bottomed boat anchored in midstream. To this he succeeded in making fast. There he stayed in safety until midnight, more fearful of his father's indignation than of the swift flowing river. His cries finally attracted the attention of some men on the shore. They rowed out to investigate and took him back to his lodgings. The grief of his father, who had given him up for lost, was changed to wrath and John saw with dismay the preparations for speedy punishment. The tender-hearted landlady successfully interfered in his behalf, saying that he had been punished enough. John never forgot this kindness and years afterwards when he revisited England took great trouble to search her out.

Mr. Murray and John were detained in Pill three weeks waiting for a favoring wind, three weeks more at Minehead, and still another three at Milford Haven. Thus they were more than nine weeks in making a passage which could now be made in almost the same number of hours. Instead of reaching Ireland in season to prepare for the rest of the family, they were barely in time to welcome them.

John's maternal grandmother, a widow, in easy circumstances, lived at Cork where the family was well known and respected. Mr. Murray took a house in the vicinity and for a while all went well. About this time the Methodists appeared in Ireland and Mr. Murray was among the first to espouse their cause. He liked their fervor and activity but did not at once join them because they were not Calvinists. His whole time was now given up to religion. His neighbors called him a saint and he was the only person in Cork the Methodists considered truly pious.

There was something particularly attractive in Methodism to John's lively, enthusiastic spirit. He liked the element of sociability in their worship, a strong point of objection with his father. "They preached often in the streets, they had private societies for young people, sweet singing and a vast deal of it, with an amazing variety of tunes. To a child who had no amusements, all this was "beyond expression charming."

Before long Mr. Murray's health began to fail rapidly, his physicians agreeing that he had an incurable lung trouble. As he grew weaker his religious vigilance for his family increased. He was determined to leave every soul of them firmly grounded in his own particular ideas. Since he could not keep his children from school, they necessarily mingled with others and caught words and habits which he lost no time in correcting with great severity.

When John was twelve the Murrays lost almost everything they possessed in a fire which burned their house to the ground. Mr. Murray nearly sacrificed his life in rescuing the sleeping baby, having just crossed the threshold with the child in his arms when the roof fell.

As long as be was physically able, Mr. Murray arose at four o'clock in the morning, summer and winter. The most of the time till six he spent in prayer and meditation. At six the family was called. John as the eldest was ordered into retirement for prayer. The child was not always in prayerful mood and when his father was not with him the time was occasionally spent in other ways. This deceit never failed to torment his tender conscience the rest of the day. When the family had gathered, John read a chapter in the Bible which was followed by a long prayer from his father. Then came breakfast and the children were sent to school. At night the family again came together for devotions. The conduct of the children was examined and their faults punished, John, as an example to the rest, being dealt with the most severely. Sometimes Mrs. Murray tearfully interceded for the boy but her husband invariably responded in the language of Solomon, "If thou beat him with a rod, he shall not die." There could be no more pitiful illustration of the doctrines of the time than this stern but secretly affectionate father, making the boyhood of his best loved child a torment that he might save him from eternal misery. Bible reading and prayer closed the day.

This was the story of an ordinary week day. Sunday was a real tragedy to the children, a day much to be dreaded," John says. They were awakened at dawn to lengthy private devotions and a hastily eaten breakfast. The shutters were tightly closed, light being admitted only from the back of the house. No noise without could bring any of the family to the window. Not a word was spoken except on religious topics. All who could read, children and servants, had their allotted Bible chapters. Then came family prayers, after which John read aloud "Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest." Poor Mrs. Murray was in terror lest the younger children should grow uneasy and interrupt.

At the melancholy tolling of the bell the family proceeded to church in solemn procession. John, walking beside his father, was commanded to keep his eyes straight forward and not let them "wander to vanity."

In the church he sat barricaded by the paternal elbow and found for his parents the Psalm, the Epistle, the Gospel and the Collects for the day. Any inattention was vigilantly noted for punishment.

On the return from church John was sent to his room for prayerful meditation. When he came out, the chapter from which the preacher had taken his text was read and he was questioned about the sermon. Generally he could repeat part of it. Dinner was hastily eaten in silence. No one was permitted to go out of doors. The family read the Bible or religious books till time for afternoon service, from which they returned to further private devotions, readings and examinations. An extended family prayer closed the longest and dreariest day of the week. Friends and neighbors of the Murrays often united with them in the evening exercises. As Mr. Murray's health declined such Sundays resulted in great fatigue but he counted all physical sufferings caused by religious zeal as an honor.

One melancholy day when John, assisted to his conclusion by his father's rod, had been made bitterly sorry for some childish frolic, be retreated sobbing to his room and then upon his knees kissed the Bible to make his vow of repentance more binding. Within a few hours he was taken to hear a violent preacher who chanced to select for his text "Swear not at all." The sermon thoroughly convinced poor John that he had committed a grave offense in making his vow to be good; that even such a simple expression as "Upon my word" was a crime against God. Was ever a poor child more tormented by deserving parents and zealous ministers? Even the usual solace of childhood was denied him for he could not expect consolation by confiding in either father or mother. No wonder that in later life he referred to Universalism as the "Sunshine of God's presence."

This sermon made such an enduring impression that for a long period he remained "a good boy." He gave up play entirely, his one recreation being work in his grandmother's beautiful garden. She arranged that he spend all his spare time as her assistant and the days which followed were among the happiest of his life. Unfortunately, his father found it necessary to remove from the neighborhood, and the garden bloomed no more for him.

Near his new home was an Academy of high reputation. The principal, an Episcopal clergyman, took a great fancy to John and offered to take him into his home to educate as his son, promising to send him later to a university. It was a great opportunity, but Mr. Murray refused it, fearing for the boy's eternal salvation if deprived of his guidance.

John had one friend at the Academy whom he dearly loved, though he was given small opportunity to be with him. Hearing that he was to leave town on a Sunday morning John stayed from church to make a farewell call. Mr. Murray was ill at home, but one of his friends took pains to report John's absence from meeting. The chastisement which followed did not prevent his running away shortly afterwards to see a review of soldiers. He went without food all day and took supper with some hospitable cottagers who invited him to join them. It was the sweetest meal he ever ate, he said, and afterward he went home cheerfully to take his whipping, considering the joys of the day well worth it.

Mr. Murray finally joined the Methodists. John Wesley became a frequent and honored visitor at the house. He differed on certain doctrinal points from Mr. Murray but revered and loved him. John, he treated with distinguished attention, his one fear being that he had "imbibed his father's damnable Calvinistic principles."

Nevertheless, he was willing to take the risk of giving him a class of forty boys to instruct. John was then scarcely fourteen, but seems to have been equal to the situation. He led them in singing and in prayer and catechized them severely on religious matters much after the manner of his father. Such religious devotion in one so young attracted much attention. John became a shining light and even reverend, gray haired men sought his society. He was referred to as the wonderful "child of much watching and earnest prayer. " To his proudly pious father these remarks were very flattering. John himself felt so complaisant under the universal praise that his father felt a warning necessary.

"You now, my dear," said he, "think you know everything but when you really obtain superior information you will be convinced that you know nothing."

Although the Murrays did not withdraw from the Episcopal communion, their strong friendship for Mr. Wesley and their activity in Methodism aroused the ire of the Episcopal rector. John had a disquieting way of asking embarrassing questions when he attended the confirmation class which contributed to the irritation of his pastor. So provoked was the worthy man that he failed to inform John of the date of the confirmation. John learned of it, however, at the last moment and created quite a sensation by presenting himself at the altar while the service was in progress. The bishop was too well pleased with John's answers to his questions to pay any heed to the rector's whispered protest that John was a Methodist, and he was confirmed with the others.