Some of Her Views and Reasoning

As soon as Isabella saw God as an all-powerful, all-pervading spirit, she became desirous of hearing all that had been written of him, and listened to the account of the creation of the world and its first inhabitants, as contained in the first chapters of Genesis, with peculiar interest. For some time she received it all literally, though it appeared strange to her that 'God worked by the day, got tired, and stopped to rest,' &c. But after a little time, she began to reason upon it, thus-'Why, if God works by the day, and one day's work tires him, and he is obliged to rest, either from weariness or on account of darkness, or if he waited for the "cool of the day to walk in the garden," because he was inconvenienced by the heat of the sun, why then it seems that God cannot do as much as I can; for I can bear the sun at noon, and work several days and nights in succession without being much tired. Or, if he rested nights because of the darkness, it is very queer that he should make the night so dark that he could not see himself. If I had been God, I would have made the night light enough for my own convenience, surely.' But the moment she placed this idea of God by the side of the impression she had once so suddenly received of his inconceivable greatness and entire spirituality, that moment she exclaimed mentally, 'No, God does not stop to rest, for he is a spirit, and cannot tire; he cannot want for light, for he hath all light in himself. And if "God is all in all," and "worketh all in all," as I have heard them read, then it is impossible he should rest at all; for if he did, every other thing would stop and rest too; the waters would not flow, and the fishes could not swim; and all motion must cease. God could have no pauses in his work, and he needed no Sabbaths of rest. Man might need them, and he should take them when he needed them, whenever he required rest. As it regarded the worship of God, he was to be worshipped at all times and in all places; and one portion of time never seemed to her more holy than another.'

As soon as Isabella saw God as an all-powerful spirit present everywhere, she wanted to hear everything written about him. She listened with special interest to the account of creation in the first chapters of Genesis. It told how the world and its first inhabitants were created. For a while, she took it all literally. Still, it seemed strange to her that 'God worked by the day, got tired, and stopped to rest,' and so on. After a little while, she began to reason about it: 'Why, if God works by the day, and one day's work tires him, he has to rest. Perhaps he rests because he is tired or because it is dark. Or perhaps he waited for the "cool of the day to walk in the garden" because the sun's heat bothered him. If so, it seems that God cannot do as much as I can. I can bear the sun at noon and work for several days and nights in a row without getting very tired. Or, if he rested at night because it was dark, that is very strange. Why would he make the night so dark that he could not see? If I had been God, I would surely have made the night light enough for my own convenience.' But she compared this idea of God with the impression she had once received so suddenly. She had felt his unimaginable greatness and understood that he was entirely a spirit. At once, she exclaimed to herself, 'No, God does not stop to rest. He is a spirit and cannot get tired. He cannot need light, for he has all light within himself. And I have heard them read that "God is all in all" and "worketh all in all." If that is so, then he cannot possibly rest at all. For if he did, everything else would stop and rest too. The waters would not flow, the fish could not swim, and all movement would have to stop.' God could not pause in his work, and he needed no Sabbaths for rest. Man might need them, and he should take them whenever he needed rest. As for worship, God was to be worshipped at all times and in all places. To Isabella, one time never seemed holier than another.

These views, which were the results of the workings of her own mind, assisted solely by the light of her own experience and very limited knowledge, were, for a long time after their adoption, closely locked in her own breast, fearing lest their avowal might bring upon her the imputation of 'infidelity,'-the usual charge preferred by all religionists, against those who entertain religious views and feelings differing materially from their own. If, from their own sad experience, they are withheld from shouting the cry of 'infidel,' they fail not to see and to feel, ay, and to say, that the dissenters are not of the right spirit, and that their spiritual eyes have never been unsealed.

She arrived at these views through her own thinking, guided only by her experience and very limited knowledge. Long after she adopted them, she kept them to herself. She feared that declaring them might bring accusations of 'infidelity'. All religious people make this usual charge against those whose religious views and feelings differ greatly from their own. If their own painful experience keeps them from shouting 'infidel', they still see and feel that dissenters do not have the right spirit. Indeed, they say so, and say that the dissenters' spiritual eyes have never been opened.

While travelling in Connecticut, she met a minister, with whom she held a long discussion on these points, as well as on various other topics, such as the origin of all things, especially the origin of evil, at the same time bearing her testimony strongly against a paid ministry. He belonged to that class, and, as a matter of course, as strongly advocated his own side of the question.

While traveling in Connecticut, she met a minister and had a long discussion with him about these points. They also discussed various other topics, including the origin of all things, especially the origin of evil. She strongly opposed paying ministers. He was a paid minister, and, of course, argued just as strongly in favor of the practice.

I had forgotten to mention, in its proper place, a very important fact, that when she was examining the Scriptures, she wished to hear them without comment; but if she employed adult persons to read them to her, and she asked them to read a passage over again, they invariably commenced to explain, by giving her their version of it; and in this way, they tried her feelings exceedingly. In consequence of this, she ceased to ask adult persons to read the Bible to her, and substituted children in their stead. Children, as soon as they could read distinctly, would re-read the same sentence to her, as often as she wished, and without comment; and in that way she was enabled to see what her own mind could make out of the record, and that, she said, was what she wanted, and not what others thought it to mean. She wished to compare the teachings of the Bible with the witness within her; and she came to the conclusion, that the spirit of truth spoke in those records, but that the recorders of those truths had intermingled with them ideas and suppositions of their own. This is one among the many proofs of her energy and independence of character.

I forgot to mention an important fact earlier. When she studied the Scriptures, she wanted to hear them without commentary. But when she asked adults to read a passage again, they invariably began explaining their interpretation of it. This greatly upset her. So she stopped asking adults to read the Bible to her and asked children instead. Once children could read clearly, they would repeat a sentence as often as she wished, without comment. This allowed her to see what she could make of the text herself. She said that was what she wanted, not what others thought it meant. She wanted to compare the Bible’s teachings with the witness within her. She concluded that the spirit of truth spoke in those records, but that the people who recorded those truths had mixed in their own ideas and assumptions. This is one of many signs of her energy and independence of character.

When it became known to her children, that Sojourner had left New York, they were filled with wonder and alarm. Where could she have gone, and why had she left? were questions no one could answer satisfactorily. Now, their imaginations painted her as a wandering maniac-and again they feared she had been left to commit suicide; and many were the tears they shed at the loss of her.

When Sojourner's children learned that she had left New York, they were puzzled and alarmed. Where could she have gone, and why had she left? No one could answer these questions satisfactorily. At times, they imagined her wandering in madness. At other times, they feared she had been left to take her own life. They shed many tears over her loss.

But when she reached Berlin, Conn., she wrote to them by amanuensis, informing them of her whereabouts, and waiting an answer to her letter; thus quieting their fears, and gladdening their hearts once more with assurances of her continued life and her love.

But when she reached Berlin, Conn., she had someone write to them, telling them where she was. She then waited for an answer. Her letter eased their fears and made them happy again, reassuring them that she was still alive and loved them.