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By Root 1511 0

never be certain that one’s feelings had genuinely changed. His own ardor for God often waned, and he castigated himself for self-deception and spiritual sloth, “my coldness and indifference, my neglect of duty, & attachment to the world. Oh, that I could feel more heavenly mindedness.” Such backsliding and self-doubt, however, were normal, even conventional parts of the process. On his travels he sent Lucrece many letters of religious instruction, his swoony trifles about moonshine giving way to somber moralizings about dying unconverted—a fate that damned the soul to an “endless existence” without hope, he pointed out, “no offers of mercy, no chance of salvation … forever, through eternity.”

Finley found Lucrece eager for his teaching. It included tests by which she might recognize whether she had a truly gracious heart: “Do you love to pray? Do you hate sin? … Do you dread above all things lest you decieve [sic] yourself?” He emphasized the last, crucial question because saving grace might begin not as a sense of purgation, but the opposite: “the first indication of a renewed heart,” he explained to her, “is a willingness to believe the worst of ourselves.” Indeed the more she grew in grace, the more sinful and unworthy would she appear to herself. As a further test, he recommended that she write down her secret thoughts each day so as to bring them starkly before her eyes, a method of meditation he practiced himself. He sent her pious works to study but emphasized the all-important truth that they were merely incidental to faith, which consisted in sole and utter reliance on Christ for salvation.

Lucrece dutifully reported to Finley on her progress in the elusive work of self-examination. “I once knew nothing of the depravity of my own heart,” she admitted to him. But with his guidance she had begun to perceive her wickedness, “that dreadful opposition of the heart which we all feel towards the truths of the Gospel.” As she came to this understanding of her true state, much that had seemed innocent now appeared sinful. She began turning down invitations to the dances and card parties she used to attend—“the height of folly,” she now called them, “idle amusements.” She began quoting Scripture. She was beginning to understand, too, the central truth that grace is no human achievement but a miraculous gift of God: “I feel the dawning of religious joy in my soul,” she wrote to him, “and that my only hope of acceptance is through the merits of my Redeemer, with a sincere conviction of my entire inability to save myself—Your letters, dearest love, first awakened my attention.”

To foster Lucrece’s religious growth, Finley proposed that she stay awhile with his parents in Charlestown. They were eager to meet their future daughter-in-law, and the town was in the midst of a religious revival. Jedediah wrote to Lucrece’s father, formally requesting his permission for the visit, which lasted at least a month. With Finley away painting, Jedediah spoke with Lucrece often about her spiritual condition. He perceived that she was indeed undergoing gracious enlightenment, though the signs were at present faint: “She evidently relishes what no unrenewed heart ever relished, & dislikes what no such heart ever disliked.” Lucrece grew fond of Jedediah: “he is so mild and amiable.” And as she began joining in the Morses’ daily life, they more and more enthusiastically approved their son’s choice: “We think she has the right disposition & talents to make you, & us, happy,” Jedediah wrote to Finley; “All the family love her.”

Finley’s own conversion process fed and was fed by his preaching to Lucretia. On December 8, 1816, he presented himself for examination to the Charlestown First Church—his father’s church. His profession of faith satisfied the church officers that he had attained a grateful heart, and they admitted him to full communion—the passage to a new, enlarged participation in religious life.

Five months later, Lucrece felt convicted enough of her own conversion to also desire to take communion. “Oh, my dear Lucrece,” Finley