The Christian Professor
John Angell James, 1837
CONDUCT OF PROFESSORS AWAY
FROM HOME
"So that you may be blameless and
pure, children of God who are faultless in a crooked and perverted
generation, among whom you shine like stars in the world." (Philippians
2:15)
Saving religion is not merely an
occasional act—but a permanent habit, resulting from an internal principle.
Saving religion is a principle so fixed as to constitute a new moral nature,
and so steadily operative, as to form an unchanging character. A real
Christian is a Christian always, everywhere, and in all companies. He
carries his piety with him wherever he goes, as an integral part of himself.
It is not like his clothes which may be continually altered, or varied to
suit his situation, occupation, and company. He needs his piety everywhere,
he loves it everywhere, and is commanded to let it be seen everywhere.
But among most professors of
Christianity, there is too much of a chameleon kind of religion,
which takes its hue from surrounding objects. This is seen most
conspicuously in the conduct of professors when away from home. They have a
flexible, yielding, easy-going kind of piety—which accommodates itself to
circumstances, by little sacrifices of principle and consistency.
While in the midst of their
connections, they cannot go far astray without its being noticed; and
indeed, the temptations to wander from the line of strict propriety, are
there neither numerous nor strong; the eyes of their religious friends and
of their pastor are upon them; they would be missed from the house of
God—and seen, by those who know them, in the company of the mirthful, and in
the amusements of the fashionable. Hence they are not so much in danger in
these circumstances, as when removed by any cause from beneath the notice of
those, who, by office, relationship, or affection—are called to watch over
them. Temptations in various ways assail them
when away from home, from which they are sheltered at home.
Sometimes professors are
visiting in mirthful and worldly families; in such a situation they
require great caution and courage, neither to conceal nor compromise their
principles. Such visits are undesirable, and are not to be chosen—but
submitted to merely as matter of necessity. There is nothing in such a
situation, which is congenial with the spirit of piety; and they can rarely
maintain their consistency, and at the same time give or receive pleasure.
Still, however, they cannot always avoid such company, and when they are
under some kind of necessity to enter into it, they should be well aware of
their difficulties, and pray for grace to be carried through them with honor
and a good conscience.
They should recollect that they will
be both watched as to their consistency, and tried as to their
steadfastness—and will need much firmness and discretion. It is demanded of
them by their allegiance to Christ, that while all the rules of politeness
and good manners are observed, there be no concealment of their profession,
no joining in amusements from which they conscientiously abstain at home,
and no attendance upon heretical worship out of compliment to the host. But
on the contrary, an inflexible, dignified and courteous maintenance of their
separation from the world, their Christian habits, and religious
observances. This is one of their opportunities for confessing Christ.
I once spent a few days in a family,
in which there was visiting at the same time a young lady, who belongs to a
society of Christians that hold it unlawful to associate in any act of
worship, either public or domestic, with those who differ from them in ever
so comparatively slight a matter. I was struck with the unyielding firmness
and unvarying consistency, with which she maintained her unbiblical and
exclusive creed. When we assembled for family prayer, she withdrew to her
chamber; when we rose to give thanks at our meals, she kept her seat, and
gave plain indication that even in that short act of domestic piety, she
took no part. I ought to observe, that there was nothing of obtrusiveness,
contempt, or sullenness in her deportment; but certainly an unbroken
consistency in which she is worthy of imitation, by all who profess a more
biblical system of thought.
It requires, I allow, great moral
courage, when receiving the rites of hospitality, to separate ourselves in
some things which they consider quite harmless, from those who are aiming to
contribute to our gratification. And when called to exercise this act of
self-denial, we should do it with due regard to all the laws of courtesy,
and with such gentle conscientiousness, as will not give offence to any
really polite person.
Professors may sometimes be thrown
for awhile, by the ever-varying circumstances of life, into a town, or
village, where there are none like-minded with themselves in religious
sentiment and feeling—and where they are surrounded only by worldly
people. Of course such a situation
should never be chosen, except it be to carry the gospel into it. But it may
be, in some cases, the result of circumstances which are beyond our control.
In such a scene of moral darkness, a Christian, instead of extinguishing the
light of his profession, or putting it under a bushel, should cause it, if
possible, to shine with a clearer and more public brightness. He should let
it be seen at once, that he fears God, and that, however he may be disposed
to exchange the civilities of life, and the courtesies of neighborhood—he
can do nothing contrary to the strictness of his religion. He must be
content to be regarded as precise, narrow-minded, and unfashionable, and
never defend himself against the sneers of the worldling, by putting aside a
single practice which his conscience dictates. Nay, he must go farther, and
endeavor, I repeat, to introduce those means of grace, which he does not
find in the place of his residence. He must carry his light with him, not
only to display it by consistent piety—but to diffuse it by holy zeal. In
such ways as prudence shall dictate, and opportunity shall allow, he must be
"The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God."
And should not the place be quite
destitute of the means of grace, and the people of God—but contain a few
poor disciples of Christ, and some lowly gathering of genuine piety, instead
of being ashamed of these humble manifestations of the kingdom of the Lord,
he must follow the Savior, though it be as the shepherds did at the
nativity, or as the disciples did after the ascension, into an attic. To
forsake the cause of evangelical religion, because it is seen in its
primitive poverty, and to associate only with the ungodly, because they are
rich and fashionable, is to abandon the church and follow the world.
How often and how forcibly has it
been submitted to those rich Christians, and to others of moderate wealth,
who are retiring from the cares of trade, to the calm seclusion of private
life, whether it is not their duty in the selection of the place of their
retreat and repose, to be guided by a view to usefulness, rather than a
desire of gratification. One of the first objects thought of by such people
generally is, a popular preacher, and a genteel congregation; a situation
where their Sabbath days shall be delightfully occupied by the good sermons
of the former, and their week days by the fellowship of the latter.
I know that it is a strong
temptation to those who can command the gratification, to place themselves
within the magic circle of some eminent preacher's ministerial labors, and
the elegantly pious society which he has drawn around him—but how
noble, how heroic, how Christ-like, is the spirit which causes a man in such
circumstances to say, "God has blessed my industry, and raised me to an
independence of the toils and anxieties of business, and I am now retiring
to spend the remainder of my days in unmolested quiet. Where shall I choose
my residence, and pitch my tent? Shall I select some paradisaic spot, where
beautiful scenery shall perpetually feast my senses? Shall I repair to some
resort of the mirthful and the fashionable? Shall I follow the music of some
eloquent preacher, and regale myself continually with the display of sacred
genius? No! I will forego all this, and settle where I can best serve that
God who has blessed me with all things richly to enjoy. I will glorify that
blessed Savior, who has bought me with his blood, and whose I am, with all I
have. He is my Lord, and I am his servant, and I must settle where I can
best serve him. I will go, therefore, where his cause is weak, that I might
be the honored instrument of strengthening it. True it is, this will require
self-denial, for I cannot expect to hear a distinguished preacher, or find a
numerous and genteel congregation in a small country town; but am I not a
disciple of him, who prescribed the cross as the condition of receiving me
among the number of his followers? What an honor and a happiness will it be,
with which to gild the evening of my days, if I should be the instrument of
supporting and encouraging some faithful minister of Christ, and building up
some low and needy church of the living God. I follow the cloud, therefore,
to the scene of usefulness."
O give me that man's reward in the
day of account, the smile, and the "well done, good and faithful servant,"
which he will then receive from his Lord, and I would resign all the
gratification to be derived from listening for ages, if it were possible, to
the sermons of the greatest of all preachers. And why is there not more of
this self-denial? Why do not wealthy Christians act more upon such
principles as these? Have they not nominally at least consecrated
themselves and their wealth to God? Is zeal for the cause of Christ,
compassion for immortal souls, no part of their duty? You unemployed
Christians, who have thrown off the shackles of trade, "the world is all
before you where to choose," make Providence your guide, and follow the cry
of souls that are perishing for lack of knowledge.
It sometimes happens, that the
members of our churches leave home in the capacity of female servants,
apprentices, and shopmen; and are placed in families, and surrounded by
companions that make no profession of religion. Such a situation, presents
one of the most trying and severe ordeals, through which a professor in
modern times is called to pass. All the countenance, and watchfulness, and
assistance they had been accustomed to receive from parents, companions, or
minister, perhaps from all these together, is suddenly withdrawn, and in all
the feebleness and timidity of a young Christian, they are exposed to the
curious gaze, the ignorant astonishment, the unconcealed sneer, or the
embittered enmity of those who are not only strangers to true religion—but
enemies too. In such a situation, there is not a single individual but what
is silently or openly opposed to this young disciple of Christ; who, cut off
from some of the means of grace, and nearly if not quite the whole of
ministerial supervision, has to sustain almost daily, the rude assault, or
subtle attack upon his principles. He is like a lamb in the midst of wolves;
an alien surrounded by those who are evil affected towards both his country
and his sovereign. O, how much grace does he need to keep him faithful? What
but omnipotence can preserve him? Where it can be avoided, young
Christians should not go, or be sent in such situations. But servants and
shopmen cannot always, though in many cases they can, choose their
situation; and where no alternative is open to them, and they must go into
temptation, let them watch unto prayer, and, for their encouragement, let
them recollect that he who kept LOT pure even in Sodom, can uphold their
integrity where there is everything to pull it down.
Consider your situation; there you
are the representative of real religion, of Christ, of God himself, in one
sense, in a place where they are not known. Make no secret of your piety—but
let it be seen in all its purity, power, and consistency. Be firm, yield
nothing to the rage or ridicule of those around you. Be consistent, and let
it be seen that you act from conscience and not from caprice. Be
good-natured, kind, obliging, and thus conciliate to yourself, that
affection which you cannot win to your piety—and then your piety will
be borne with, for the sake of the loveliness with which it is associated.
Pray for divine help, and tremble lest you should do anything to excite, as
many have done, a prejudice against the religion which you profess. "Blessed
is the man who endures temptation, for when he is tried he shall receive the
crown of life, that fades not away."
Travelers
have sometimes a difficult part to act, and are exposed
to great temptation; especially such as are regularly employed in a way of
business, and who are a great part of their time away from home. The company
they meet with at inns, their usual places of sojourn, is generally such as
puts their consistency to a test. It is true, there is some improvement in
the habits of those who are of this class, inasmuch as education has, in
some measure, refined men's taste, and subdued the grossness of vice; but
with every abatement of this kind, it will be admitted by all who are
acquainted with the facts of the case, that a traveler's room is not the
place where piety often finds anything congenial with itself.
The drinking, and card playing; the
filthy discourse, and the angry debating which are but too often found
there, require, on the part of a professor of religion, much moral courage,
and well-fixed principles, sustained by divine grace, to escape the snare.
To some young men, who once bade fair to be respectable, the situation has
proved an occasion of ruin for both worlds; and even to those who have been
long and deeply rooted in their profession, it has been a severe and painful
trial of their principles; where it has not destroyed their consistency, it
has been a constant affliction to their minds.
How watchful and circumspect ought a
Christian to be in such a situation, in his table habits, in his general
conversation, in his whole conduct; how careful to avoid the irritation of
debate on the subject of politics, or when the question is of trade; how
unwilling to provoke, or to be provoked; how firm, yet how gentle; how
pious, yet how courteous and gentlemanly; how observant of the Sabbath; how
bold, and fearless, and unconcealed in his profession of reverence for true
religion in all its institutes, and all its requirements! Such a man,
maintaining his consistency with kindness, calmness, and dignity; bearing,
with unruffled serenity of temper, the taunts and sneers of the witling and
scoffer, will soon silence the tongues of the scorner, even where he does
not subdue his heart to the obedience of faith.
It would be well for such people to
make themselves well acquainted with the evidences of Christianity, and also
the arguments and the cavils of infidels, that, on suitable occasions, they
may be prepared to meet and vanquish objections to revelation. I believe
there is much flippant and shallow skepticism often to be found in a
traveler's room. A Christian, whose occupation calls him into such company,
should always carry about with him a volume on the evidences of his faith,
that he may be qualified to instruct the ignorant, stop the mouths of
gainsayers, and relieve the perplexed; and thus aim to do good on his
journeys. This he should also endeavor to effect in other ways, as
opportunity may present itself, by persuading, for instance, his companions
to accompany him to the house of God. But, O! how much grace is needful for
such arduous and often self-denying consistency!
There are also travelers for
pleasure, as well as for business; and they too have their temptations;
temptations which they have not always the courage and virtue to resist.
Excursions for pleasure have now become so common, even where they do not
extend beyond the United Kingdom, and, when made under the most favorable
circumstances, are not usually found to be very conducive to spiritual
improvement. The constant succession and survey of beautiful scenery and new
objects of interest, do not always lead the mind, "through nature—up to
nature's God," nor produce that pious frame of mind, which led the Psalmist
to say in holy rapture, as he gazed on the beauties of creation, "My
meditation of YOU shall be sweet." The excitation of the mind often
prevents, instead of aiding, reflection; and the curiosity kept on the full
stretch of expectation or gratification, too often represses the tranquil
exercises of faith and hope; while the hurry and fatigue of each day's
travel, leave but little leisure or inclination for the duties of the
closet. The senses are so luxuriously occupied with the things that are seen
and temporal, as to flatten the desires of the soul after communion with
God, and to suspend her fellowship with things unseen and eternal.
Thus many a Christian has returned
from a journey of pleasure, rather carnalized than spiritualized by what he
has seen. This, I am aware, is rather the abuse of traveling, than its
necessary effect, and does not always happen; and even where it does,
the injurious influence is generally only temporary. Be it so; but let us
ever be anxious to guard our souls against the snare—the best way of doing
this, is to make it matter of prayer before we set out, that we may be kept
from evil, and then most conscientiously to seek as we wander from place to
place, that we may not be permitted to wander from God.
A Christian should get good from
everything, and if his mind were as spiritual as it should be, his
excursions would be among the all things that work together for this. And as
he ought to seek to get good, so ought he seek to do it. That
tour will be a subject of delightful reminiscence in heaven, and a source of
gratitude through eternity, on which we can look back, as the means of
saving a soul from death, and converting a sinner from the error of his
ways. This may be sought by various methods; some have been converted by the
conversation of a fellow-traveler in a stage-coach, or steam-boat; others by
means of a religious tract given to them; and others by means still more
casual.
One day as Felix Neff was walking in
a street in the city of Lausanne, he saw, at a distance, a man whom he took
for one of his friends. He ran up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder
before looking in his face, and asked him, "What is the state of your
soul, my friend?" The stranger turned; Neff, perceived his error,
apologized, and went his way. About three or four years afterwards, a person
came to Neff, and addressed him, saying, he was indebted to him for his
inestimable kindness. Neff did not recognize the man, and begged he would
explain. The stranger replied, "Have you forgotten an unknown person, whose
shoulder you touched in a street in Lausanne, asking him, 'How do you find
your soul?' It was I! Your question led me to serious reflection, and now
I find it is well with my soul." This proves what apparently small means
may be blessed of God for the conversion of sinners, and how many
opportunities for doing good we are all continually letting slip, and which
thus pass irrecoverably beyond our reach.
One of the questions which every
Christian should propose to himself on setting out upon a journey is,
"What opportunities shall I have to do good?" And one of the points on
which he should examine himself on his return, is, "What opportunities
have I lost?" No one should go from home without a good stock of
evangelistic tracts; and it would, in many cases, be proper for those who
are in the habit of conducting family worship at home, and who have courage
and an easy command of language, to invite the residents of the inns where
they pass the night, to join them in an act of solemn worship.
Foreign excursions require still
more watchfulness and care, not to fall into temptation.
Those who travel on the continent of Europe, a practice becoming exceedingly
common, had need look well to the state of their hearts, and to their
outward conduct. Cut off perhaps, in many instances from public worship,
either because they do not understand the language, or because they find
nothing but Popery, they are exposed to the dangers of misspending the
Sabbath, or, at any rate, of losing the quickening influence of public
ordinances; and that in circumstances in which they most need it. Nor is
this all. Wishing to see the country which they have taken so much trouble
to visit, in all its phases, they frequent places which they would not
venture to approach at home. Have not American professors been seen at our
horse-races and theaters? And have not both English and American Christians
been seen at the operas in Paris, and at Versailles on the Sabbath, to see
the gardens and the waterworks of the palace? If these travelers were to
keep a journal of all they see and do, away from home, would it do to
be read at home, for the edification of their Christian brethren?
But what shall be said of the
conduct of some professing Christians vacationing at our resorts? It has
become almost one of the necessaries of life to Englishmen, to pay a summer
or autumnal visit to the coast, or to one of our inland places of resort. To
say that this is wrong in those who can afford to pay for it, is certainly
not my intention. Tradesmen, and even Christian tradesmen too, have
ruined themselves, and plunged their families into poverty and distress, by
habits of expense and idleness, acquired by this annual excursion to the
sea. The taste of the age is for luxurious gratification, and it is
certainly one of these luxuries to while away a month amidst the beauties of
the coast, or the mirthful throng of a fashionable lounging place. But to do
this without ample means of paying for it, is to act dishonestly as a man,
and most disgracefully as a Christian.
I will suppose, however, that there
is no lack of wealth, and that the professor can command the gratification,
without putting other people's property in jeopardy; still, are not his
spendings for this enjoyment, out of all due proportion with his donations
to the cause of Christ? When did he ever give, in one amount, to any
religious object, what he gives, in one amount, for his treat to his family
to a resort? Nay, put together all that he gives to the cause of the Lord
for a whole year, and does it equal what he spends upon one vacation?
How often does he turn away a claimant, sent to him in the name of Jesus,
with the excuse that he has nothing to spare? Perhaps he says this, just
after he has been lavishing hundreds—or thousands, in riding into the
country, or sailing on the sea, and luxuriating in other ways on the shore.
When a world is perishing, and immortal souls are sinking daily in crowds to
perdition, a Christian should look, with grudging eye, on almost every
dollar he spends in luxury.
But let it be granted, that
professors are liberal in the use of their wealth for the cause of humanity
and religion, and that they can, in all consistency, spend a small sum each
year in recreation, a case that often occurs—still, are there no perils for
piety in a vacation resort? Temptations abound everywhere, entering like a
poisoned atmosphere into every place—but surely no one acquainted with the
subject will deny, that they are found in greater number and force in those
places, which fashion has set apart for relaxation and amusement. The sudden
transition from employment to idleness, is rarely friendly to habits of
devotion. It might indeed be supposed, that the Christian, finding himself
released from the demands of business, and obtaining thus a respite from the
urgent cares of secular pursuits, would hail with delight, a season for
meditation and prayer, and convert his absence into one long, sweet Sabbath
for his soul, to enjoy communion with his God. But does experience prove
that the expectation is well founded? Perhaps "the soft dominion of perfect
idleness," and the opportunity for luxurious repose, are more unfriendly to
the cultivation of piety, than even the ceaseless round of worldly
occupations. We then lounge away our time, without either glorifying God, or
benefitting our fellow-creatures. "If a moralist were justified in saying,
that but few individuals know how to take a walk, the Christian preacher is
certainly warranted in affirming, that but few, even among consistent
Christians, know how to spend a month from home." The mixed society to be
found in such haunts of pleasure, the amusements which are resorted to, and
the general air of wastefulness which pervades the whole scene, are all
uncongenial with the spirit of piety, which flourishes best in silence and
solitude.
If, in the crowded city, men appear
as if they lived to get wealth by labor, at a resort they look as if it were
the object of existence to spend it in pleasure; in either case, religion
seems to be banished from their minds. "At a fashionable resort," says a
competent witness on such a subject, "the incentive to a blameless
deportment, arising from the observation of their religious connections at
home, is entirely lacking; and multitudes, I am sorry to believe, take
advantage of its absence. Indulging a hope that they are unknown, or
unregarded, they make religion bow to custom, while every solicitation of
pleasure assumes an imperative character, and is obeyed, though, at the same
moment, the sanctuary of God invites, and conscience remonstrates. They seem
studiously to avoid all fellowship with those who belong to their own, or
any other religious persuasion. Thus they lay themselves open to associates
of another description. Not choosing to be recognized as the
self-denying, humble followers of the Savior, they place themselves
outside the pale of the green pastures, which he, as the Good Shepherd, has
provided for his own flock. The world considers them as its own, and they
appear infinitely careful to prevent a detection of the mistake. The
facilities of communication with all sorts of people, are, in such places,
likewise numerous and great. Formal introductions are seldom necessary, and
acquaintances are made for the season, which, however respectable, as to
their situation in life, are so far from making a profession of religion
themselves, that they cordially despise it in others. ("The Temptations of a
Resort," a Sermon preached in 1835, at Brighton, by Dr. Styles, who was then
resident there. This is a most valuable discourse, and ought to be kept
constantly in print, and widely circulated, as a Tract which might be of
great service to many professors of religion. Dr. Styles, and all other
ministers located at Resorts, could tell us strange tales.)
It is indeed to be feared that some
professing Christians, when they set out on their summer's vacation, leave
their religion at home in order that nothing may interrupt their pursuit or
enjoyment of pleasure. It is true they do not turn away from the house of
God on the Sabbath—but where are they at the time of the weekly sermon or
prayer-meeting? "A weekly sermon or prayer-meeting, indeed!" they are ready
to exclaim, "at a resort! Why, who ever thinks of such a thing? Surely it is
enough to attend to those things at home." Is this a question for a
professor to ask? Does he in such a situation less need the
influence of such means? No, perhaps, it will be said—but he is not much
disposed for them. Very true, he is not—and a plain proof it is of the
dissipating tendency of such scenes, and the pernicious influence they exert
in disturbing the habits and diminishing the power of personal godliness.
Some of our more fashionable
professors, doubtless, would feel a little ashamed to be seen by some of the
mirthful acquaintances they have lately made, coming from the lowly place
"where prayer is accustomed to be made," or from the still lowlier company
of those who make it. It might be asked, if some are not more frequently
seen at the Sunday evening promenade or on the cliffs, than at the week-day
services. And yet, perhaps, these people are very regular at home—but have
not strength of principle enough to withstand the current of temptation
abroad. Many have gone to places of fashionable resort to have their
profession lastingly injured; and some to lose it altogether. They commenced
a retrograde course in religion from that day when they went joyfully and
thoughtlessly to the coast in search of recreation. Surely, surely, then, it
cannot be thought unseasonable or unnecessary to raise a warning voice, and
to make it loud and strong when it is becoming increasingly prevalent among
professors, to seek in this species of gratification, a temporary release
from the dull cares of home, and the plodding pursuits of business.
I cannot close this chapter to more
advantage than by a quotation from Dr. Styles' Sermon.
"The man who fears God, while he
sees others idle, worldly, and selfish, will consider how he may actively be
employed in promoting the divine glory. Every place, he will say, shall be
the better for my presence. I will be the same character everywhere, and in
all circumstances—I must act as ever in my great Father's eye. He beholds
me. I cannot flee from his presence, and if I would, how ungrateful, how
sinful would be the attempt! That presence has been my solace in affliction,
my support in difficulty, my defense in danger. Why should I wish to escape
from it now? I am a stranger, and unknown—but my 'light is to shine before
men.' Let me choose for my companions the righteous, who are the excellent
of the earth. Let me inquire what benevolent and religious institutions
already exist, that I may forward them to the best of my ability. Can I not
suggest others that may easily be established, and thus live to the glory of
God, and the good of my fellow-creatures? Let me countenance the ministers
of Christ, and assist them by my prayers and example, to stem the torrent of
abounding iniquity, and as far as I can, to check the subtle operation of a
worldly temper in a situation so full of danger. O! if our professedly
religious visitors, and our residents of the same description, were
influenced by such a spirit, what a solemn glory would beam from the
sanctuary! What a stream of holy light would shed its influence around,
carrying irresistible evidence of the truth of religion, illustrating its
unrivaled excellence, and proclaiming its infinite importance! A strong line
of distinction would thus be drawn between the world and the church. The
inconsistencies of Christians would no longer be the jest of the libertine,
the scoff of the vain, and the text of the infidel. Ministers, surrounded
with a numerous audience, would not have to mourn the inefficiency of their
labors, nor to weep in secret that all their efforts are frustrated, by the
captivations and the follies of a world that passes away. That all this may
be prevented, let those who 'name the name of Christ,' both visitors and
stated inhabitants, ponder well the peculiar temptations and snares, which
it is their duty, and will be their happiness, to avoid. If they are
disposed to think of them lightly, to imagine that they offer only innocent
gratifications, and that to view them as dangerous, and to condemn there as
sinful, is neither justified by reason, nor required by Scripture; such
people have yet to imbibe the spirit of Christianity. They have yet to learn
the nature of holiness. It is evident, that however they may be versed in
the doctrines and precepts of the sacred volume, there is one important
passage which describes the essence and pronounces the eulogy of vital
religion, to which they are utter strangers, and which they have not at
present the moral capacity to understand, namely, 'Blessed is the man that
fears always.'"