Call to Commitment

 In the last article, I posted some of Finney’s accounts of what took place, as he witnessed a new beginning of true and lively Christianity in Rochester, N.Y. He wrote that “this revival made a great change in the moral state and subsequent history of Rochester. The great majority of the leading men and women in the city were converted.” In this article, I have included a revival in a Rochester high school. As I scanned the book anew, I found that Finney wrote of the Fulton Street revival in New York City. The only connection with Finney was apparently chronological. The revival began because a single layman had a desire to start a one-hour prayer meeting for businessmen, at lunch time in the city. God worked and this effort produced a revival of prayer among the lay people of New York, resulting in the conversion of many souls.

 This article begins with an interesting incident, as Finney has taken by a volunteer from New Lebanon to Stephentown. Then Charles Finney gives some general characteristics of revival, using Stephentown as an example, and after that, he describes the fear of God and His presence in Rome, NY.  In the second section, Finney tells of an occurrence among the Methodists of falling under conviction of sin. Following that, we will read of the foundation of a crowded church, settling into the ground during a meeting. Finally, Finney writes of the forementioned revival in a Rochester high school.   

General revival characteristics, godly fear, and one exemplary meeting

 Accordingly, the next Sabbath, after preaching the second time one of the young converts at New Lebanon offered to take me up in his carriage to Stephentown. When he came in his buggy to take me up I asked him. "Have you a steady horse?" "O yes!" he replied, "perfectly so"; and smiling asked, "What made you ask the question?" "Because," I replied, "if the Lord wants me to go to Stephentown, the devil will prevent it if he can; and if you have not a steady horse, he will try to make him kill me." He smiled, and we rode on; and strange to tell before we got there that horse ran away twice, and came near killing us. His owner expressed the greatest astonishment, and said he had never known such a thing before.

 The state of things in the village and in the neighborhood round about Rome was such that no one could come into the village without feeling awestricken, and the solemn impression that God was there in a peculiar and wonderful manner. As an illustration of this I will relate an incident. The sheriff of the county resided in Utica. There were two court houses in the county, one at Rome and the other at Utica; consequently, the sheriff, Broadhead by name, had much business at Rome.

 He afterwards told me that he had heard of the state of things at Rome; and he, together with others, had a good deal of laughing in the hotel where he boarded about what they had heard. But one day it was necessary for him to go to Rome. He said that he was glad to have business there, for he wanted to see for himself what it was that people talked so much about, and what the state of things really was in Rome. He drove on in his one-horse sleigh, as he told me, without any particular impression upon his mind at all until he crossed what was called the old canal, a place about a mile, I think, from the town. He said as soon as he crossed the old canal an awful impression came over him, an awe so deep that he could not shake it off'. He felt as if God pervaded the whole atmosphere. He said that this increased the whole way till he came to the village. He stopped at Mr. Flint's hotel, and the hostler came out and took his horse. He observed, he said, that the hostler looked just as he himself felt, as if he were afraid to speak.

 On the third Sabbath that I preached there an aged man came to me as I came out of the pulpit, and asked me if I would not go and preach in a schoolhouse in his neighborhood, saying that they had never had any services there. He told me that it was about three miles in a certain direction. He wished me to come as soon as I could. I appointed the next day, Monday, at five o'clock in the afternoon. It was a warm day. I left my horse at the village and thought I would walk down, so that I should have no trouble in calling along on the people in the neighborhood of the schoolhouse on my way. However, before I got to the place, having labored so hard on the Sabbath I found myself very much exhausted and sat down by the way and felt as if I could scarcely proceed. I blamed myself for not having taken my horse.

 When I arrived at the appointed hour I found the schoolhouse full, and I could only get a standing place near the door, which stood open--and the windows were all open. I read a hymn--and I cannot call it singing, for they seemed never to have had any church music in that place. However, they pretended to sing. But it amounted to about this: each one bawled in his own way. My ears had been cultivated by teaching church music; and their horrible discord distressed me so much that at first I thought I must go out. I finally put both hands over my ears and held them with the full strength of my arms. But this did not shut out the discords. I held my head down over my knees, with my hands on my ears, and shook my head, and tried as far as possible to get rid of the horrible discords that seemed almost to make me mad. I stood it, however, until they were through; and then I cast myself down on my knees almost in a state of desperation, and began to pray. The Lord opened the windows of heaven and the Spirit of prayer was poured out, and I let my whole heart out in prayer.

 I had taken no thought with regard to a text upon which to preach, but waited to see the congregation, as I was in the habit of doing in those days, before I selected a text. As soon as I had done praying, I arose from my knees and said: "Up, get ye out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city." I said I did not recollect where that text was, but I told them very nearly where they would find it, and then went on to explain it. I said that there was such a man as Abraham, and also who he was; and that there was such a man as Lot, and who he was; their relations to each other; their separating from each other on account of differences between their herdsmen; and that Abraham took the hill country, and Lot settled in the vale of Sodom.

 I then told them how exceedingly wicked Sodom became, and what abominable practices they fell into. I told them that the Lord decided to destroy Sodom, and visited Abraham and informed him what He was about to do. That Abraham prayed to the Lord to spare Sodom if He found so many righteous there, and the Lord promised to do so for their sakes. That then Abraham besought Him to save it for a certain less number, and the Lord said He would spare it for their sakes. That he kept on reducing the number until he reduced the number of righteous persons to ten; and God promised him that if He found ten righteous persons in the city, He would spare it. Abraham made no farther request, and Jehovah left him. But it was found that there was but one righteous person there, and that was Lot, Abraham's nephew. "And the men said to Lot, Hast thou here any besides? Son-in-law, and thy sons, and thy daughters, and whatsoever thou hast in the city, bring them out of this place; for we will destroy this place, because the cry of them is waxen great before the face of the Lord; and the Lord hath sent us to destroy it. And Lot went out and spake unto his sons-in-law, which married his daughters, and said, Up, get you out of this place, for the Lord will destroy the city. But he seemed as one that mocked unto his sons-in-law" Gen. 19:12--I4.

 While I was relating these facts, I observed the people looked as if they were angry. Many of the men were in their shirt sleeves; and they looked at each other and at me, as if they were ready to pitch into me and chastise me for something on the spot. I saw their strange and unaccountable looks, and could not understand what I was saying that had offended them. However, it seemed to me that their anger arose higher and higher as I continued the narrative. As soon as I had finished the narrative, I turned upon them and said, that I understood that they had never had a religious meeting in that place; and that therefore I had a right to take it for granted, and was compelled to take it for granted, that they were an ungodly people. I pressed that home upon them with more and more energy, with my heart full to bursting.

 I had not spoken to them in this strain of direct application, I should think more than a quarter of an hour, when all at once an awful solemnity seemed to settle down upon them, and a something flashed over the congregation--a kind of shimmering, as if there was some agitation in the atmosphere itself. The congregation began to fall from their seats; and they fell in every direction, and cried for mercy. If I had had a sword in each hand, I could not have cut them off their seats as fast as they fell. Indeed nearly the whole congregation were either on their knees or prostrate, I should think, in less than two minutes from this first shock that fell upon them. Everyone prayed for himself, who was able to speak at all.

 I, of course, was obliged to stop preaching, for they no longer paid any attention. I saw the old man who had invited me there to preach sitting about in the middle of the house, and looking around with utter amazement. I raised my voice almost to a scream to make him hear, and pointing to him said, "Can't you pray?" He instantly fell upon his knees, and with a stentorian voice poured himself out to God, but he did not at all get the attention of the people. I then spake as loud as I could, and tried to make them attend to me. I said to them, "You are not in hell yet; and now let me direct you to Christ." For a few moments I tried to hold forth the Gospel to them, but scarcely any of them paid any attention. My heart was so overflowing with joy at such a scene that I could hardly contain myself. A little way from where I stood was an open fireplace.

 I recollect very well that my joy was so great, that I could not help laughing in a most spasmodic manner. I knelt down and stuck my head into that fireplace, and hung my pocket handkerchief over my head, lest they should see me laugh; for I was aware that they would not understand that it was irrepressible, holy joy that made me laugh. It was with much difficulty that I refrained from shouting, and giving glory to God.

 As soon as I could sufficiently control my feelings I turned to a young man who was close to me, and was engaged in praying for himself, laid my hand on his shoulder, thus getting his attention, and preached in his ear Jesus. As soon as I got his attention to the cross of Christ he believed, was calm and quiet for a minute or two, and then broke out in praying for the others. I then turned to another and took the same course with him, with the same result--and then another, and another. In this way I kept on until I found the time had arrived when I must leave them, and go and fulfil an appointment in the village. I then told them so. I asked the old man who had invited me there to remain and take charge of the meeting while I went to another place. He did so. But there was too much interest, and too many wounded souls, to dismiss the meeting; and so it was held all night. In the morning there were still those there that could not get away, and they were carried to a private house in the neighborhood to make room for the school. In the afternoon they sent for me to come down there, as they could not yet break up the meeting.

 When I went down the second time, I got an explanation of the anger manifested by the congregation during the introduction of my first sermon there. I learned that the place was called Sodom--but I knew it not--and that there was but one pious man in the place, and him they called Lot. This was the old man that invited me there. The people supposed that I had chosen my subject, and preached to them in that manner, because they were so wicked as to be called Sodom. This was a striking coincidence, but so far as I was concerned, it was altogether accidental. 

Methodists vs. Presbyterians, a faulty foundation, and a revival in a high school

 In DeKalb, there had been a revival there under the labors of the Methodists. It had been attended with a good deal of excitement, and many cases had occurred of what the Methodists call "falling under the power of God." This the Presbyterians had resisted, and in consequence a bad state of feeling had existed between the Methodists and the Presbyterians; the Methodists accusing the Presbyterians of having opposed the revival among them because of these cases of falling under the power of God. As nearly as I could learn there was a good deal of truth in this, and the Presbyterians had been decidedly in error.

 I had not preached long, before one evening, just before the close of my sermon, I observed a man fall from his seat near the door, and that the people were gathered around him to take care of him. From what I saw, I was satisfied that it was a case of "falling under the power of God," as the Methodists would express it, and supposed that it was a Methodist; and I must say that I had a little fear that it might reproduce that state of division and alienation that had before existed. But on inquiry I learned that it was one of the principal members of the Presbyterian church that had fallen. And it was remarkable that during this revival there were several cases of this kind among the Presbyterians, and none among the Methodists. This led to such confessions and explanations among the members of the different churches as to secure a state of great cordiality and good feeling among them.

  In Wilmington, Mr. Gilbert was very Old School in his theological views, but a good and earnest man. His love of souls overruled all sticklishness on nice questions of theological difference of opinion between him and myself. As soon as I could see my way clear to leave Stephentown, therefore, I went to Wilmington and engaged in labors with Brother Gilbert.

 Dr. Penny had introduced the services, and was engaged in the first prayer, when I heard something which I supposed to be the report of a gun, and the jingling of glass as if a window had been broken by it. My thought was that some careless one of the trainers on the outside had fired so near the window as to break a pane of glass. But before I had time to think again, Dr. Penny leaped from the pulpit over me, for I was kneeling and leaning upon the sofa behind him. The pulpit was in the front of the church, between the two doors. The back end of the church came up to the brink of the canal. The congregation in a moment fell into a perfect panic, and rushed for the doors and the windows as if they were all distracted. One elderly lady held up a window in the rear of the church, where several, as I was informed, leapt out into the canal. The rush was terrific. Some jumped over the galleries into the aisles below; some actually ran from slip to slip on the tops of the pews; they ran over each other in the aisles.

 I stood up in the pulpit, and not knowing what had happened I put up my hands and cried at the top of my voice, "Be quiet! Be quiet!" Directly a couple of ladies rushing up into the pulpit, one on the one side and the other on the other side, caught hold of me in a state of distraction. Dr. Penny ran out into the streets, and they were getting out in every direction as fast as they could. As I did not know that there was any danger, the scene looked so ludicrous to me that I could scarcely refrain from laughing. They rushed over each other in the aisles, so that in several instances I observed men picking themselves up, and as they rose throwing weaker ones as they had stumbled upon them off "heads and points." They got out of the house as soon as they could. Several were considerably hurt, but no one killed.

 He called his female associate, Miss Allen, and told her that the young lads and young men were so exercised about their souls that they could not recite; and asked if they had not better send for Finney to give them instruction. She afterwards informed me of this, and said that she was very glad to have him make the inquiry, and most cordially advised him to send for me. He did so, and the revival took a tremendous hold of that school. Mr. Benedict himself was soon hopefully converted, and nearly every person in the school was converted. But a few years since Miss Allen informed me that more than forty persons that were then converted in that school had become ministers; and I am not sure but she said that more than forty of them had become foreign missionaries. That was a fact that I had not known before. She named many of them to me at the time, and a large proportion of them, certainly, had become foreign missionaries.