them that knock the door shall be
opened, and I have faith to believe it.' In an instant the Lord made me
so happy that I cannot express what I felt. I shouted for joy. I
praised God with my whole heart.... I think this was in November,
1823, but what day of the month I do not know. I remember this, that
everything looked new to me, the people, the fields, the cattle, the
trees. I was like a new man in a new world. I spent the greater part
of my time in praising the Lord."[137]

[137] W. F. Bourne: The King's Son, a Memoir of Billy Bray, London,
Hamilton, Adams & Co., 1887, p. 9.

Starbuck and Leuba both illustrate this sense of newness by quotations.
I take the two following from Starbuck's manuscript collection. One, a
woman, says:--

"I was taken to a camp-meeting, mother and religious friends seeking
and praying for my conversion. My emotional nature was stirred to its
depths; confessions of depravity and pleading with God for salvation
from sin made me oblivious of all surroundings. I plead for mercy, and
had a vivid realization of forgiveness and renewal of my nature. When
rising from my knees I exclaimed, 'Old things have passed away, all
things have become new.' It was like entering another world, a new
state of existence. Natural objects were glorified, my spiritual
vision was so clarified that I saw beauty in every material object in
the universe, the woods were vocal with heavenly music; my soul exulted
in the love of God, and I wanted everybody to share in my joy."

The next case is that of a man:--

"I know not how I got back into the encampment, but found myself
staggering up to Rev. ----'s Holiness tent--and as it was full of
seekers and a terrible noise inside, some groaning, some laughing, and
some shouting, and by a large oak, ten feet from the tent, I fell on my
face by a bench, and tried to pray, and every time I would call on God,
something like a man's hand would strangle me by choking. I don't know
whether there were any one around or near me or not. I thought I
should surely die if I did not get help, but just as often as I would
pray, that unseen hand was felt on my throat and my breath squeezed
off. Finally something said: 'Venture on the atonement, for you will
die anyway if you don't.' So I made one final struggle to call on God
for mercy, with the same choking and strangling, determined to finish
the sentence of prayer for Mercy, if I did strangle and die, and the