The Cornerstone

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

VIII. Universalism and Mr. Murray Journey Together

Very different from the anxious forebodings which had beset him on the previous voyages were Mr. Murray's feelings now. In his cabin the scenes of his life passed before him and he plainly saw the guiding hand of God. " This is the Lord's doing and it is marvelous in our eyes," he exclaimed. The future looked bright. To return to Mr. Potter's generous friendship, to assist him in the fields and to preach before an eager band of followers on Sunday was a delightful prospect.

Safely arriving in New York at noon the next day, he delivered the sloop to the captain of the Hand-in-Hand and took lodgings till such time as he could get passage back to Cranberry Cove.

Before night the sailors had spread the news of the sermon preached at Mr. Potter's and many called to beg him to speak in their city. They were so pressing that he yielded and preached in the Baptist meeting house. The crowd of hearers were deeply impressed and urged him to remain with them. This he told them was impossible because of his pledge to Mr. Potter. Then they promised to bestir themselves to find means for his speedy return to Good Luck, if he would continue to preach during his stay in town.

A week passed before they were able to secure him a passage. In the meantime he frequently preached and was cordially treated by the clergy, who, of course, regarded him as a Calvinist. He was cautious in presenting his views to couch them in Scriptural language upon which the hearer could put his own interpretation. This was in accordance with Relly's plan to gradually prepare the hearer for new truth, leading him gently along when his confidence had been gained.

Nothing was farther from Mr. Murray's thoughts at this time than a desire to found a new sect. He had no wish to antagonize the established churches. Indeed, he was in full sympathy with them on most points. He wished to brighten the old beliefs by what he called the doctrine of hope. Later he was severely criticised for this course, being accused of hypocrisy, some of the clergy affirming he had gained access to their pulpits by false pretenses.

On his return, there was a hearty welcome awaiting him at Good Luck, where he settled down happily as one of the Potter household. Winter was rapidly approaching and Mr. Potter was busy harvesting his fruit. It was a great delight to Mr. Murray to assist him in the fields for his love of farming was as keen as when he helped his grandmother in her Irish garden. Till he realized this, Mr. Potter objected vigorously. He wished his guest to devote his time to study and offered him a generous salary for his Sunday preaching.

"Ah," replied Mr. Murray, "I can think best in the field. It requires little study to deliver simple, plain, gospel truth; to pervert the truth takes a vast deal of worldly wisdom. "

One night before the open fire, Mr. Murray told Mr. Potter he was at last assured God had called him to preach. "But I am determined," he went on to say, "to make no gain of godliness. I have an abundance of clothing, for I neither expect nor hope to live long. I will work in the fields with you and eat what you set bef ore me, but I will neither accept any collection nor a regular salary. If it pleases the God who brought me here to let me remain till he calls me hence, I shall be the better pleased.

Mr. Potter tried to speak, but at first his emotions mastered him. Going across to Mr. Murray he took him warmly by the hand. "Can it be possible?" he said brokenly. "This is what I have always thought the ministers of God ought to be!"

"Every one," replied Mr. Murray, "is not free to do this. If I had a family, I should be worse than an infidel not to provide for them."

The relation between these two men was always ideal. The only cloud during these happy days was the increasing conviction in both that Mr. Murray would not be permitted to remain permanently at Good Luck. People continued to come twenty or thirty miles to the Sunday services and the fame of them spread rapidly. Invitations to preach in distant as well as nearby places poured in and could not long be resisted by a man intent upon his Master's business.

His first visit was to a village eight miles away. In making a round of calls there one morning, he found a mother crying bitterly as she bent over the sleeping baby hugged close in her arms. With ready sympathy Mr. Murray asked what had happened. She told him between her sobs she felt it impossible that her eight children could all be elected to salvation. The thought that some of them were doomed to eternal torment from which nothing could save them had taken the joy from her life and she knew would one day unbalance her mind.

Picking up a Bible from the table, Mr. Murray opened it at random to the twentyseventh psalm, third verse, "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord." With this as a text he gave her such unspeakable comfort that ten years afterward, when they chanced to meet, she exclaimed with gratitude, "Blessed be God, I have never had an unhappy thought of my children since that morning. I know they are God's."

One day a little vessel entered Cranberry Inlet bearing an urgent invitation to Mr. Murray to preach again in New York. His passage had been engaged on the same ship and all expenses paid. It would have been impossible to refuse such a call, even if his feelings with regard to his mission on earth had not undergone a complete change. It now seemed to him selfish and unworthy to refuse to preach. "I am determined," he said, "never again to seek directly or indirectly for an open door, and never again to refuse entering any door that Providence shall open."

His reception in New York was enthusiastic. He bad scarcely arrived when a subscription paper for the purpose of building him a meeting house was circulated. The response was ready and the entire amount was subscribed in a day. The people refused to take "No" for an answer, not being able to understand his preference for Good Luck. After hearing the story of the peculiar accidents leading to his arrival there, and his close relation with Mr. Potter, they unwillingly yielded to his strong feeling in the matter. A Baptist church was at his service during his stay and he preached to crowded houses. In spite of the warm regard shown him, he gladly returned to Good Luck after a few weeks, his new friends going with him to the vessel, where they offered fervent prayers for his well being.

This was the beginning of those missionary journeys which extended over a periodof four years, Portsmouth, N. H., being his northerly limit. Mr. Potter's, at Good Luck, seems to have been a kind of Bethany for him, to which he returned often for rest and refreshment.

As Mr. Murray had foreseen, it was soon rumored that his doctrines were heretical. He avoided, when possible, the proffered friendship of Baptist clergymen, knowing it would probably be short lived. One venerable judge, quite an oracle in his community, very early began to combat Mr. Murray's heresy. Since Murray would not listen to arguments that were not scriptural, the old gentleman began to search the Bible for convincing texts. Shortly he confessed that he, and not Mr. Murray, was in error and became an ardent upholder of Universal Redemption.

Mr. Murray's popularity with the laymen, but more particularly his absolute refusal to accept collections, increased the growing enmity of the clergy, who felt that such unworldly conduct put them at a disadvantage.

A visit to Philadelphia, after repeated invitations, produced stormy times in the Quaker city. There was no hint of coming trouble in his cordial reception. His solicitous friends vied with each other in supplying comforts and presented him with a good horse that his preaching trips might be taken with greater convenience.

He had an immediate falling out on doctrinal points with a prominent Baptist minister who had requested him to preach in his pulpit. The invitation was not withdrawn, but when Mr. Murray reached the parsonage before service, he found a goodly number assembled, including a young candidate for the ministry. On his entrance the clergyman arose, cast a look of anger and scorn upon him and without a word of greeting, took the young candidate by the hand and led him from the house into the church, leaving Mr. Murray still standing by the door. Good manners seem not to have been an adjunct of religion in those days.

Although this insult made warm friends for Mr. Murray, every church in the city was soon closed to him. His followers were allowed to engage a clubhouse called Bachelors' Hall, some miles out, the authorities saying they wished to keep the new doctrine at least at cannon shot from the city.

His private controversies were endless. One Baptist minister told Mr. Murray that he walked nine miles every Sunday to preach.

"How many in the congregation?" asked Mr. Murray.

"About one hundred."

"How many of the hundred do you suppose are elected to everlasting life?" continued Mr. Murray.

"I cannot tell."

"Fifty do you think?"

"Oh, no, nor twenty."

"Ten perhaps?"

"There may be ten."

"Can these lost do anything which will help their situation?"

"They might as well try to pull the stars from heaven. "

"Can your preaching help them?"

"Certainly not. Every sermon they hear will sink them deeper in damnation."

"And so my friend you walk nine miles every Sunday to sink ninety persons out of a hundred in never-ending misery?" exclaimed Mr. Murray with fine scorn.

The storm of opposition was now gathering in many directions. A few clouds were visible even at his beloved Good Luck, but Mr. Potter's friendship remained unshaken. Mr. Murray cheerily observed that while his enemies were very malignant they were generally at a distance and his friends who were very cordial were at his elbow. He could have gone his way with much less care had it not been for those well-meaning but pestilential friends who "felt he ought to know what so and so said." They reported with dispatch and precision much that would otherwise have escaped him. The clergy were almost always his enemies. The open opposition of declared foes, however bitter, be could well endure, but the hypocritical infidelity of friends wrung his heart.

On one occasion when on a preaching tour in the neighborhood, he was invited out to breakfast and was surprised to
find many other guests, including a Baptist clergyman who had been his inveterate foe. The clergyman at once began a discussion and became so angry that he rushed about the room quite wildly exclaiming, "Gibberish! gibberish!" after Mr. Murray's remarks. It was a distress to Mr. Murray that a pretended friend should have exposed him to such an unprofitable encounter. "As usual," he said, "this attack drew me nearer God."

At another place he was asked to dinner by an apparently cordial friend. They had a long and intimate talk on doctrine, but no sooner was Mr. Murray out of sight than his host ordered a horse and rode about telling jubilantly how he bad outwitted Mr. Murray's "cunning," and obtained a true knowledge of his principles.

In the autumn of 1773 Mr. Murray determined to fulfill a long deferred promise to visit Newport, Rhode Island. The chilly evenings and mornings on the journey made him feel the need of an overcoat. In accordance with his habit he kept silent, feeling sure that a well-to-do friend in New York would at once observe his need and supply it. The day before he left Brunswick, where be had stopped to preach, a stranger came to him with patterns of cloth, asking him to make a choice for a great coat. He refused to tell who had sent him.

"You need not, " said Mr. Murray. "It is God my Father who has put it into some one's heart to do this." The coat was delivered promptly next morning before Mr. Murray left. On reaching New York he learned that the man whom be had expected to make the gift was no longer his friend.

While on a side trip in New Jersey he was told that Mrs. Trinbath, at whose house he had spent that last happy evening in Ireland, was in New York. She had deserted her husband and children and had fled to America with a private in the English army. The shock and grief had unbalanced her husband's mind and finally killed him.

Mr. Murray was always ready to help the distressed or to reclaim the wrongdoer. Intent on this he returned to New York next day, feeling sure he could induce Mrs. Trinbath to return to her mother and children. He set on foot inquiries for her whereabouts. The soldier with whom she had run away saw Mr. Murray walking with the major of his regiment, and supposed him to be Mr. Trinbath, of whose death they had not heard. He hurried home to warn Mrs. Trinbath and when Mr. Murray arrived, the house was empty. Nothing he could say or do would convince the neighbors that he was not the injured husband and he was overwhelmed with unwelcome pity. He left a letter at the lodgings to prove his identity, but Mrs. Trinbath supposed it a trick of her husband's to gain admittance. His foes distorted this incident, affirming that he was Mr. Trinbath masquerading as a religious teacher and that his wife bad run away with the soldier to escape cruel treatment. The scandal became serious and Mr. Murray was so distressed at such an outcome to his well meant efforts that his friends appealed to the military authorities to have the woman produced at a meeting of reliable witnesses which they called together. Mrs. Trinbath grew hysterical when she saw Mr. Murray approaching, and without stopping to look, cried out that it was her husband and fainted away. When she had recovered sufficiently to be brought face to face with him, she acknowledged her mistake with much sorrow, but refused to listen to any plea for her return to Ireland. Notwithstanding his public vindication, the results of this unfortunate incident were far reaching. Mr. Murray, writing of the matter, said sadly, "There was not a thousandth part of the pains taken to publish the truth as had been taken to spread the slander. It was the still, small voice of friendship which proclaimed my innocence; the slander had a thousand tongues."

These various persecutions were hard to bear but they aroused great curiosity to see the man so talked about, and hundreds flocked to hear him.