Earthen Vessel Magazine Summer Edition - Volume 1
From Death Into Life by William Haslam
Introduction by Kent Philpott
'Some years ago I idly picked up a book to read, and found it to be Mr. Haslam’s From Death Into Life. In it I read the story of Mr. Haslam’s conversion after he had been in the ministry, and at once saw that my position was like his before his conversion. Mine was only an intellectual belief, a belief in which there was no life. It looked for salvation in the future after death, and consequently my soul had not “passed from death into life”. God showed me how very dangerous my position was, and what a wretched and lost sinner I was, and how necessary it was for me to obtain salvation in the present and not in some future time.’
SUCH were the words of Pandita Ramabai, brought up in an orthodox Brahman family in India. Ramabai went on to found the Home for Child Widows in India. Her testimony illustrates how useful William Haslam’s book has been since it was originally published in the mid-nineteenth century. The present volume is one of numerous editions of the book that have been printed over the years, and testifies to the ongoing value of its content.
Since conversion to Christ is the single most important event in any person’s life—and since false conversion is so common—this book is useful in shedding light on the nature of true conversion. William Haslam, a priest in the Anglican Church, was a spiritual and devoted man who sincerely thought he was a genuine Christian. But he was not. This is true for many professing Christians today, and our hope is that this book will stir up the hearts and minds of men and women so that they, like Pandita Ramabai, will trust solely in Jesus Christ for their eternal salvation and be born again by the Spirit of God.
Frank Gee, a member of Miller Avenue Baptist Church, Mill Valley, California, first brought me a copy of William Haslam’s From Death Into Life in January 2004. I viewed the book with skepticism—after all, could something written by an Anglican priest who ministered in Cornwall, England during the 1840s be relevant to me? As I read this little volume, I was shocked at my own response. It had been at least two decades since a book had such an impact on me. Here was an ordained minister who had been unconverted—and freely admitted it! When he experienced genuine conversion, his life and ministry were radically changed. Haslam told his story in a manner that absolutely riveted me. I used the book as a kind of daily meditation and I was sorry when I came to the end of it. At once, I searched the internet for more copies, found two, and began passing them around. The effect was like fire in a dry wheat field. Soon others in my congregation began searching for additional copies, and also discovered other titles by Haslam (such as Yet Not I, a sequel to the present book).
Haslam was an ordained minister in the Church of England who was converted—or born again—while preaching a sermon in his own parish church. At Miller Avenue, we had been addressing the issue of true conversion ever since we had become aware of the need to do so sometime in 1997. The result of our interest in this subject was a book entitled Are You Really Born Again? Evangelical Press published it in 1998. Within our own congregation—despite the fact that I have been an evangelical preacher for many years—we realized that many people ‘in the pews’ were unconverted. Some of these people were converted over the coming months; others were not. We have come to see that true biblical conversion is the one and only important issue of life, and on it hangs life and death—that is, eternal life and eternal death.
Rev. Haslam is far removed from those of us living at the beginning of the twenty-first century, but his writings are clear and relevant. In the accounts of his day-to-day ministry, he gives evidence of being aware of both Reformed/Calvinistic theology and Arminian theology but it appears he was not wholly conforming to either system. He also does not seem to have been influenced by Charles G. Finney, the American evangelist of the second Great Awakening. It was Finney who introduced new evangelistic methods like the ‘sinner’s prayer’ and the ‘altar call’. Haslam relied on the ‘old’ methods of gospel preaching and dependence on the ministry of the Holy Spirit as he urged seekers to approach God in prayer for forgiveness of their sins and true salvation in Jesus Christ.
William Haslam’s use of the ‘after-meeting’ struck me as something to consider in my own ministry. After preaching a clear gospel sermon, full of both ‘light and heat’, Haslam invited those whose hearts had been stirred to adjourn to a separate place—a fellowship hall or a Sunday School room—for a time of calling out to God in prayer. At those after-meetings, people who had been convicted by God of their sin and their need of the Saviour would be given the freedom to kneel and pray aloud to God until they found peace and forgiveness. These same burdened people, having found peace, would then praise God—often loudly. Their hearts had moved from deep distress to true joy.
There are some points of practice and/or theology found in the book that I, as a Christian in the Reformed tradition, would not embrace. To some degree Rev. Haslam endorsed the Wesleyan Methodist view on sanctification, which was quite widespread in England at the time. Haslam even refers to believers acquiring holiness as a ‘second blessing’ in chapter 24. He had observed that not all who professed Christ led holy lives. He suspected that this was probably due to a lack of emphasis in his preaching on the ‘risen life’ the believer is to live with Christ. No doubt influenced by Wesleyan holiness teaching, Haslam—for a time at least—taught that holy Christian living was dependent upon an additional work or experience of the Holy Spirit, sometimes called ‘a second blessing’ or the ‘baptism of the Spirit’. In contrast, a Reformed understanding of sanctification is that it is a gift of God, given at the moment of conversion and includes an ongoing work of the Holy Spirit throughout the entire lifetime of the believer.
Awakenings, such as this one in Cornwall, generally involve the manifestation of supernatural signs, wonders, miracles and other extraordinary events. These were common, for example, during the Jesus Movement of the late 1960s and early 1970s, in which I had first-hand experience. In this book, Rev. Haslam records the special workings of the Holy Spirit but he does not appear to sensationalize or promote them. One instance, however, gave me pause. This may be nothing more than quibble on my part, but there seemed to be a lack of discernment shown, on Haslam’s part, in the story of ‘the wise woman’ in ‘Cottage Meetings’ (chapter 13). It gave me the impression that the woman was not led by the Holy Spirit at all, but maybe led by another spirit. And this is often the trouble with awakenings—there can be a ‘dark side’ to them, as we experienced in the Jesus Movement. The lesson I learned then was not to attribute to the Holy Spirit all that was supernatural. I may have misunderstood Haslam but even if this warning is justified, the incident with ‘the wise woman’ does not detract from the overall soundness of the book.
Though a small congregation, God has blessed Miller Avenue Church with the means to bring From Death Into Life back into print. We have been able to fund the printing, binding and advertising of the book. Our entire church council and congregation have supported this project and from our members, Maggie Bates developed a cover (inspired by the style of book covers of Haslam’s day) and prepared the book for printing while George Holz scanned the book and prepared the text for layout. We have also enjoyed the partnership of David Clark and Evangelical Press and appreciate all their encouragement and expertise. Janice Van Eck of Ontario, Canada brought her special professional skill to bear on the manuscript to be sure all was first class.This reprint of William Haslam’s book, From Death Into Life, is offered as a tool for those labouring ‘in the fields, ripe for harvest’.
Kent Philpott, pastor
May 2004
kentphilpott@comcast.net
Glossary of characters and terms
Several people who read the volume suggested that it might be helpful to introduce certain characters and explain a few of the concepts and terms that might be unfamiliar to a modern reader. The manuscript itself is presented exactly as it was originally written, as it will be easy for most readers to determine the meanings of words and phrases without attempts to modernize the text.
Robert Aitken (1799–1873)
Influential in Haslam’s life, Aitken was ordained a deacon in the Church of England but was forced out of the church due to ‘preaching irregularities’. Though he never officially joined the Methodist Church, he did preach in many Methodist pulpits. In 1840, he returned to the Church of England and became curate of a small parish in Perranuthnoe, Cornwall from 1842 to 1844. He then became the ‘first incumbent’ of a parish in Pendeen, Cornwall where he spent the remainder of his ministry. Aitken was an enthusiastic and much sought-after preacher in the area. Though a minister in the Church of England, he was greatly influenced by the Methodists and the Tractarians. He was known as a ‘Tractarian-Methodist Anglican’. Robert Aitken knew Haslam prior to Haslam’s conversion and challenged him on his unsaved condition. For more information see: www.isle-of-man.com/manxnotebook/methodism/people/aitken.html.
Billy Bray (1794–1868)
Billy Bray was born in Cornwall. As a young man, he easily earned the title ‘heathen’. Upon his conversion, however, Bray became even more dedicated to Christ than he had ever been to sin. He was active during William Haslam’s ministry and the two men knew each other and had opportunities to minister together. Bray had a strong influence on evangelical movements and preachers through the rest of his life. He was loud and pleasantly brash, joyful and exuberant. His example seemed to give permission for the Christians of Cornwall to be demonstrative. To this day, Billy Bray is fondly remembered in Cornwall. An excellent account of the man and his work can be found in F. W. Bourne’s Billy Bray, The King’s Son, published by Kingsley Press. Charles Spurgeon included Bray in his book Eccentric Preacher. The ‘Prince of Preachers’ reported that he had heard Bray ‘with admiration’. You can read more from Spurgeon on Bray at www.spurgeon.org.
Bryanite
‘Bryanite’ is named for William O’Bryan (afterwards Bryant), a Methodist but non-ordained preacher from Cornwall. Bryant was an evangelist and church planter in the 1820s and the movement he sparked spread rapidly to other parts of England. Though there was some disturbance in the work, his emphasis on evangelistic preaching eventually spread to Canada, Australia, New Zealand and China. Many of the Bryanite churches later merged with the Methodist Church.
Chapels
Chapels were places of preaching and worship not tied to the Church of England. Since the Act of Uniformity in 1662, the Established Church only allowed ‘licensed’ preachers of the gospel who were ordained in the Church of England to use their buildings. Those who could not, or would not, officially join the Church of England used Dissenting or Nonconformist chapels. Often ‘sponsors’ would build, maintain or hire chapels and then arrange for preachers to use the chapels for special meetings.
Dissenters
Dissenters, or Nonconformists, were those who left the Church of England and joined with other groups or churches. The Dissenters believed that the ministry in the Church of England was incomplete and they desired a more evangelical, Protestant theology. Some Dissenters found fellowship with the Methodists, some with the Baptists, some with the ‘Bible Christians’ (a denomination that eventually merged with the Methodists), while others were completely independent.
Edward B. Pusey (1800–1882)
Edward Pusey was a fellow of Oriel College, Oxford and wrote two of the ninety tracts associated with the Tractarian Movement. His interest was to renew the Church of England by bringing it in line with traditional Roman Catholicism. Pusey was a dedicated Christian, scholar and author. After his death, the Pusey House in Oxford (a library and study centre) was established by his friends in his honour. For more information go to: http://justus.anglican.org/resources/bio/54.html.
Tractarian Movement
The Tractarian Movement emerged from within the Church of England from 1833 to 1841 and was led by clergy and churchmen, mostly fellows of Oriel College, Oxford University. Notable in this movement were Edward Pusey, John Mason Neale, John Keble, Richard H. Froude, John W. Bowden and especially John Henry Newman (who left the Church of England and joined the Roman Catholic Church). These men sought to restore the Church of England to a more Catholic view and practice. Ninety articles entitled Tracts for the Times were published over a period of eight years. The Tractarian Movement, the Oxford Movement and Puseyism (after Edward Pusey) are essentially synonymous terms. The Oxford Movement, not to be confused with the Oxford Group (otherwise known as Buchamnaism or Moral Re-Armament of the 1920s), succeeded Tractarianism.
Author’s Introduction
THIS volume is not so much a history of my own life, as of the Lord’s dealings with me; setting forth how He wrought in and by me during the space of twenty years. It will be observed that this is not, as biographies generally are, an account of life on to death; but rather the other way—a narrative of transition from death into life, and that in more senses than one.
I had been given over by three physicians to die, but it pleased the Lord, in answer to prayer, to raise me up again. My restored health and strength I thankfully devoted to a religious and earnest life. In the height and seeming prosperity of this, the Lord awakened me to see that I was dead in trespasses and sins; still far from Him; resting on my own works; and going about to establish my own righteousness, instead of submitting to the righteousness of God. Then He quickened me by the Holy Ghost, and raised me up into a new and spiritual life.
In this volume the reader will meet with the respective results of (what I have called) the Religious, as distinguished from the Spiritual, life. The former produced only outward and ecclesiastical effects, while the latter brought forth fruit in the salvation of souls, to the praise and glory of God.
One object in writing1 this book is to warn and instruct earnest-minded souls, who are, as I was once, strangers to the experience of salvation, seeking rest where I am sure they can never find it, and labouring to do good to others when they have not yet received that good themselves. They are vainly “building from the top;” trying to live before they are born; to become holy before they have become justified; and to lead others to conversion before they have been converted themselves.
A second object is—to draw the attention of every earnest, seeking, or anxious soul, to consider the Lord’s marvellous goodness in first bearing with me in my religious wanderings, and then using me for His glory in the salvation of hundreds.
Another desire I have is—to cheer the hearts of believers who are working for God, by relating to them what He has done through me, and can do again, by the simple preaching of the Gospel. Here the reader will meet with narratives of the Lord’s work in individual cases, in congregations, and in parishes—wonderful thing’s, which are worthy of record.
I have not shunned to tell of the mistakes I fell into after my conversion, hoping that others may take heed and profit by them; and then I shall not have written in vain.
W. Haslam
Chapter One - The Broken Nest
1841
IN the time in which this history begins, I had, in the providence of God, a very happy nest; and as far as temporal prospects were concerned, I was provided for to my liking, and, though not rich, was content. I had taken my degree; was about to be ordained; and, what is more, was engaged to be married; in order, as I thought, to settle down as an efficient country parson.
With this bright future before me, I went on very happily; when, one evening, after a hard and tiring day, just as I was sitting down to rest, a letter was put into my hand which had been following me for several days. “Most urgent” was written on the outside. It told me of the alarming illness of the lady to whom I was engaged, and went on to say that if I wished to see her alive I must set off with all haste. It took me a very short time to pack my bag and get my travelling coats and rugs together, so that I was all ready to start by the night mail. At eight o’clock punctually I left London for the journey of two hundred and eighty miles. All that night I sat outside the coach; all the next day; and part of the following night. I shall never forget the misery of mind and body that I experienced, for I was tired before starting; and the fatigue of sitting up all night, together with the intense cold of the small hours of the morning, were almost beyond endurance. With the morning, however, came a warm and bright sunshine, which in some degree helped to cheer me; but my bodily suffering was so great that I could never have held up had it not been for the mental eagerness with which I longed to get forward. It was quite consonant with my feelings when the horses were put into full gallop, especially when they were tearing down one hill to get an impetus to mount another.
At length, the long, long journey was over; and about thirty hours after starting, I found myself staggering along to the well-known house. As I approached, the door was softly opened by a relative who for several days had been anxiously watching my arrival. She at once conducted me upstairs, to what I expected was a sick chamber, when, to my horror, the first thing I saw was the lid of a coffin standing up against the wall, and in the middle of the room was the coffin, with candles burning on either side.
I nearly fell to the ground with this tremendous shock and surprise. There was the dear face, but it seemed absorbed in itself, and to have lost all regard for me. It no longer turned to welcome me, nor was the hand stretched out, as heretofore, to meet mine. All was still; there was no smile—no voice—no welcome—nothing but the silence of death to greet me.
The sight of that coffin, with its quiet inmate, did not awaken sorrow so much as surprise; and with that, something like anger and rebellion. I was weak and exhausted in body, but strong in wilful insubordination. Murmuring and complaining, I spoke unadvisedly with my lips.
A gentle voice upbraided me, adding, that I had far better kneel down in submission to God, and say “Thy will be done!” This, however, was not so easy, for the demon of rebellion had seized me, and kept me for three hours in a tempest of anger, filling my mind with hard thoughts against God. I walked about the room in the most perturbed state of mind, so much so, that I grieved my friends, who came repeatedly to ask me to kneel down and say, “Thy will be done!” “Kneel down—just kneel down!” At length I did so, and while some one was praying, my tears began to flow, and I said the words, “Thy will be done!” Immediately the spell was broken and I was enabled to say from my heart, again and again, “Thy will be done!” After this I was conscious of a marvellous change in mind; rebellion was gone, and resignation had come in its place. More than that, the dear face in the coffin seemed to lie smiling in peace, so calm and so lovely, that I felt I would not recall the spirit that was fled, even if it had been possible. There was wrought in me something more than submission, even a lifting-up of my will to the will of God; and withal, such a love towards Him that I wondered at myself. God had been, as it were, a stranger to me before. Now I felt as though I knew and loved Him, and could kiss His hand, though my tears flowed freely.
The funeral took place the same morning: it was a time of great emotion; sorrow and joy met, and flowed together. I thought of the dear one I had lost, but yet more of the God of love I had found; and to remember that she was with Him was an additional comfort to me. The funeral service was soothing and elevating beyond expression; and yet, when it was all over, such a sense of desolation came upon me, that I felt utterly forlorn and truly sad.
My nest was now completely stirred up; but instead of bemoaning its broken state, I could see the eagle fluttering over her young ones (Deut. 32:11). I was conscious that God was looking on, and that He had not forsaken me in this great wreck.
The strain and excitement I had undergone naturally brought on an illness. I was seized with inflammation of the lungs, and was dangerously ill. From this, and other complications which supervened, the doctor pronounced that I could not recover, and bade me prepare for eternity.
Judges and doctors, when they pass sentence of death, seem to regard religion as a necessary preparation for it. Too common, also, is this idea, even among those who do not belong to these respected professions. My own opinion was much the same at that time.
Having received this solemn warning, I took down the Prayer-book, and religiously read over the office for the Visitation of the Sick. I became so interested in this exercise, that I determined to read it three times a day. The prayer for a sick child especially commended itself to my mind, so that, by changing a few words, I made it applicable to my own case, and used it not only three, but even seven, times a day. In substance, it petitioned that I might be taken to heaven if I died; or that, if it should please God to restore my health, He would let me live to His glory. I did not at that time expect my days would be prolonged, nor had I any wish to live, for the world was now perfectly blank and desolate to me. I felt as if I could never be happy again; to be with God would be far better!
I little dreamed that if I had died in that unpardoned and Christless state, I should have been lost forever; for I was profoundly ignorant of the necessity of the Spirit. This vital truth had never come to my mind; I felt a love for God, and in my ignorance I wished to die.
One morning the thought came to me, as I was sitting all alone by the fire, “What have I been praying for?—that the Lord would take me to heaven if I died; or, if I lived, that He would let me live to His glory?” Why, this is heaven both ways!—heaven in heaven, or heaven on earth—whichever way it pleases God to answer my prayer. Somehow I felt certain that He would answer it. I was exceedingly happy, and could not help thanking Him. From that day I began to feel better, and became impressed with the idea that I was to live, and not die. The doctor smiled at me when I told him so, for he did not believe it. He, and two other physicians, had told me that my lungs were diseased; indeed, six months afterwards, all three sounded me, and declared that one lung was inoperative, and the other much affected.
Yet, notwithstanding the doctor’s discouraging announcement—for he told me, also, that “it was one of the fatal signs of consumption for the patient to feel or think he was getting better”—I had a certain conviction that I was to recover. As soon as the medical man had gone, I put on my coat and hat and went out for a walk. I trembled much from weakness, and found it necessary to move very slowly and stop often; but under the shelter of a wall, courting the warmth of the bright-shining sun, I managed to make my way to the churchyard.
While I was sitting there alone, the great bell struck out unexpectedly, and caused me to shake all over; for I was in a very weak condition. It was the sexton tolling to announce the departure of the soul of some villager from the world. Having done this, he came out with his boards and tools to dig the grave. He did not observe me sitting f change of heart—perfectly unconscious that I must be born again of the Spirit. This vital truth had never come to my mind; I felt a love for God, and in my ignorance I wished to die.
One morning the thought came to me, as I was sitting all alone by the fire, “What have I been praying for?—that the Lord would take me to heaven if I died; or, if I lived, that He would let me live to His glory?” Why, this is heaven both ways!—heaven in heaven, or heaven on earth—whichever way it pleases God to answer my prayer. Somehow I felt certain that He would answer it. I was exceedingly happy, and could not help thanking Him. From that day I began to feel better, and became impressed with the idea that I was to live, and not die. The doctor smiled at me when I told him so, for he did not believe it. He, and two other physicians, had told me that my lungs were diseased; indeed, six months afterwards, all three sounded me, and declared that one lung was inoperative, and the other much affected.
Yet, notwithstanding the doctor’s discouraging announcement—for he told me, also, that “it was one of the fatal signs of consumption for the patient to feel or think he was getting better”—I had a certain conviction that I was to recover. As soon as the medical man had gone, I put on my coat and hat and went out for a walk. I trembled much from weakness, and found it necessary to move very slowly and stop often; but under the shelter of a wall, courting the warmth of the bright-shining sun, I managed to make my way to the churchyard.
While I was sitting there alone, the great bell struck out unexpectedly, and caused me to shake all over; for I was in a very weak condition. It was the sexton tolling to announce the departure of the soul of some villager from the world. Having done this, he came out with his boards and tools to dig the grave. He did not observe me sitting by; so he at once commenced, and went on diligently with his work. The ground had so often been broken before that it did not take him long to accomplish his task; he gradually got deeper and deeper into the ground, till he disappeared altogether from my sight. I crept to the edge of the narrow pit in which he was, and looking into it, I could not help thinking of those words of Kirke White—
Cold grave, methinks, ’twere sweet to rest
Within thy calm and hallowed breast!”
I had no fear of death, but rather felt that I should welcome it even more than restoration to health.
I have even now a most vivid remembrance of this, and place it on record to show how delusive are our feelings: because I did not feel any danger, I took it for granted that there really was none. That day, however, was an eventful one in my life; for, in the gladness of my heart, I gave myself to God, to live for Him. I had given my will before, and now I gave my life, and was happy in the deed. I did not know at that time that faith does not consist in believing that I have given myself, even if I meant it ever so sincerely; but in believing that God has taken or accepted me.
At the outset, I began with the former—a merely human faith—and its result was consequently imperfect. I was spiritually dead, and did not know it. Alas! what multitudes there are who are utterly unconscious of the fact of this spiritual death, though there are few things more plainly declared and revealed in the Word of God.
The full meaning of the word death is too often misunderstood and overlooked. There are three kinds referred to in the Word of God—spiritual, natural, and everlasting. The first is a separation of the soul from God; the second, that of the body from the soul; and the last, that of the unbelieving man, body and soul, from God forever.
It will be seen that there is one characteristic which is common to all three kinds—that is, separation; and that there is no idea of finality—death is not the end. When the Lord God created man, we suppose that He made him not merely in the form of a body, but a man with body and soul complete; and afterwards that He breathed into this living man the Spirit, and he became a living soul. As such, he communed with the eternal God, who is a Spirit. In this spiritual state he could walk and converse with God in the Garden of Eden. When, however, he disobeyed the command which had been given to him, he incurred the tremendous penalty. The Lord God had said, “In the day that thou eatest of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt surely die.” He did eat, and he died there and then; that is, he forfeited that Spirit which had quickened his soul, and thus became a dead soul; though, as we know, he remained a living man for nine hundred years before his body returned to its dust.
By his one act of disobedience, Adam opened in an instant (as an earthquake opens a deep chasm) the great gulf, the impassable gulf of separation which is fixed between us and God. By nature, as the children of Adam, we are all on the side which is away from God; and we are become subject also to the sentence pronounced against the life of the body. We know and understand that we are mortal, and that it is appointed unto men once to die; but we do not seem to be aware of the more important fact of the death of our souls. Satan, who said to our first parents, “Ye shall not surely die,” employs himself now in deceiving men by saying, “Ye are not dead;” and multitudes believe him, and take it for granted that it is actually true. Thus they go on unconcerned about this awful and stupendous reality.
Join us on our next addition for Chapter Two - Religious Life