Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 15
Back to Work
It might be asked if the condition of glorious triumph described near the close of the previous chapter continued, or was there any trial of my new faith which followed? It is persistently declared that people who get this holy experience are never tempted, but nothing could be more false than that declaration. The day following I had fifty miles to ride, and, being alone, Satan seemed to accompany me the whole day! He conceded that I had the experience, for he knew I could not be made to doubt it, but insisted that I was a rash young man and it was highly probable I would lose it. It was a great thing to be sanctified, and in case I did lose it Christ would be dishonored, and His cause would receive a fearful wound! Because of this danger I had better say nothing about it to my people. I might tell them I was getting blessed, but should not let them know I was sanctified till I found out whether I could keep it or not. Old subtle serpent; he knew very well if I suppressed that testimony I would soon have nothing to testify about. How many thousands have lost the experience at that very point. Especially is that true of ministers from Bro. John Fletcher, of Madeley, down. I should not wonder if two thousand Methodist preachers have lost this holy experience within the past thirty years by trying to hide it.
The ground was all new to me at the time, and I knew but little of Satan's devices, but on reaching my circuit, the first person I met was Sister Barker, and I told her God had sanctified my soul! She with others had been seeking this grace under my ministry, but not having the experience, I was not able to lead them in. There was much joy among those hungry souls when they heard their young pastor had really entered in. It was a very brief time till a large number of my best members were over into Canaan. Our prayer meetings became seasons of great power, and in the regular church services souls would get under conviction, and conversions became a common occurrence in the class meetings and the Sabbath services.
My soul was so on fire with love to God and man, that I was compelled to go out into new territory in search of lost souls. The Inlet stream connects the two Winnebago swamps, in Northern Illinois. Not far above where the stream widens into the lower swamp there was a settlement wholly discarded by the churches, because it was recognized as a centre of vice. There were innocent people there, but there was a prominent man who owned a mill, and his house was supposed to be a rendezvous for horse thieves and murderers. There were two cases of murder there, one of an orphan girl, who had made her home at this man's house. They had a little school house and I preached to them for a time. Preaching at night it was difficult to return home, so I felt compelled to stay over night each time. This old man gave me much attention and insisted I must make his house my home. He had a daughter, whose virtues he often portrayed to me, and at last insisted that she would make me an excellent wife. He was an old backslider, but pretended to me that he was all right. In those days we lined the hymns where books were scarce. I led the singing in the opening service, and, preaching very loud, was hoarse at the close. I had made a fearful appeal to the ungodly and the solemnity of eternity seemed present. I read what was then the second part of the first hymn in the old Methodist book, and asked if some friend would be so kind as to lead the singing. This old apostate started in on the first verse:
"Look
unto Him, ye nations,
Own your God, ye fallen race;
Look and be saved
through faith alone;
Be justified by grace."
His voice was heavy and very loud, but before the first line was sung he broke down. Not daunted in the least, he started again without the semblance of a tune and went aground. Seeing that the whole service would be ruined, I started the old tune Balerma. He followed me quickly, but when I as up, he was down, and when I was down, he was up. By the time I was through the verse he was two words behind, and seeing I was through, he gave a hacking cough and, thinking the words should all be brought in, repeated the last two words, "by grace!" It was a time before I got strength sufficient to start the second verse.
Mr. Simers lived near the school house in a double log cabin, and one of his family urged me to come and stay with them. He had been a gentleman, and a man among men, but was now a wreck with strong drink. They had a beautiful family of grown and growing children. The house was made a little palace of neatness and refined taste, and much was done to make me comfortable. Mr. Simers made special effort to treat me kindly, but I noticed that in a few moments he would go into the other cabin. I was anxious to rescue him, and several times changed rooms to find him, but each time he did as before. He explained his strange course to another, and asked him to give me the explanation, saying: "I have high regard for Mr. Haney as a preacher of the gospel, and feared I should offend him by profane words in his presence, hence I left the room each time when he came in," and asked that I should forgive him this apparent rudeness. Poor Simers, I hoped to save him, but he leaped into eternity a few weeks afterwards from a fit of delirium tremens. Millions have followed him since then and the army is increasing. Who can compute the agonies here, and the damnation hereafter, resulting from the curse of intoxicating drinks!
The passion for soul saving led me to hold a meeting at the head of Palestine Grove, near where now the town of Sublet is situated. There was a small Baptist society there of long standing, but it was without a pastor, and all signs of spiritual life had disappeared. They opposed my coming to disturb their quiet. God gave me two men, Brothers McCune and Peterson, and their wives, for a church at that point. I gave them no rest till they were all sanctified, so I had a whole church of sanctified people! Bro. McCune's daughter was soon converted, and she went right on into the fountain. My church were all of one heart and each of them true as steel, so the base was laid for a real revival. We had a meeting of two weeks or more, and forty sinners were beautifully converted. The contrast between the two bodies was very striking. In fifty years I have never known a Baptist church so utterly dead and have but rarely seen a Methodist church so utterly alive! The former became alarmed as their children were being converted, and they sent fifty miles to procure a minister of their faith for a single sermon. I had preached where Amboy now stands Sabbath morning and had to hasten to the seat of the battle for the afternoon service. With brief preliminaries I struck out on St. Paul's question, Rom. 6:1: "What shall we say then, shall we continue in sin that grace may abound? God forbid!" Knowing nothing of the morning sermon, I went through like a prairie fire without the slightest trammel on my spirit or tongue! But afterwards I learned that the brother who had come fifty miles to preach to that people who had hardly drawn one spiritual breath in fifteen years, had taken Solomon's words: "Be not righteous overmuch," and put in a whole hour warning them against being too religious! Possibly, two sermons in the same house, and on the same day, were never preached that were more diametrically opposed to each other! Yet it is a comfort to record that the meeting held at that time is still going on. and the souls thus saved formed the base for a church which has been the headquarters of a circuit to this day. The dear ones who stood with me in that battle are in glory, but I shall see them soon.