The Christian Professor
John Angell James, 1837
AN ATTEMPT TO COMPARE THE PRESENT GENERATION OF PROFESSORS WITH OTHERS THAT
HAVE PRECEDED THEM
"Say not," says the wise man, "Why
were the former days better than these?" For it is not wise of you to
ask this." Eccles. 7:10. This language could not have intended such
comparisons as are cautiously made for the sake of promoting improvement—but
only such as are peevishly instituted to cherish discontent. It has been
common for good men of every age to complain of the degeneracy of their
times, both as regards the world and the church. "Had it all along been
true, it is impossible to conceive, as bad as the world is, how much worse
it must have been. The truth is we are on many accounts exceedingly
incompetent judges. There is much difficulty in taking a comparative view
that shall be sufficiently comprehensive and impartial of our own and other
times. We are extremely apt to confine our estimate to particular
descriptions of character and deportments of conduct, which happen, whether
from accidental circumstances, or from our peculiar mental temperament, to
have more particularly attracted our attention and impressed our minds, and
to overlook the endless variety of modifications and aspects under which the
corruption of our nature displays itself; to forget that in human society,
there is a fashion in morality, as there is in everything else, of which it
is the very essence to fluctuate and to show in successive periods
capricious and changeful predilections; that religion and virtue, though
declining in the quarter of the country which forms the immediate sphere of
our observation, may be reviving and making progress in another; that when
the prevalence of any particular vice has been the occasion of suffering to
ourselves, we naturally feel and speak strongly under the irritation of
self-love, magnifying to our imagination, both the intrinsic enormity of the
evil, and the extent to which it is practiced. So much do these and other
causes affect the judgment, that two people, differing in circumstances and
in mental constitution and moral sentiment, shall produce from the very same
scene of life and manners, descriptions so unlike each other, as that we
shall be at a loss to believe the identity of the subject; just as two
painters, following each his own taste and fancy, may, from the same
assortment of objects, by variety of grouping and arrangements, by the
different degrees of retirement or of prominence given to each, and by their
opposite styles of coloring and shadowing, present us with two pictures so
totally dissimilar, as that we may look long and narrowly ere we discover
the points of coincidence." (Wardlaw on Eccles. vol. 1, page 345.)
These remarks so true and so wise,
should impose caution on anyone who attempts to institute a comparison
between his own generation of professors, and those that have gone before.
But still most ages have some features so broad, and so deeply marked, that
any man with even moderate sagacity and impartiality, may venture to
pronounce upon them. In speaking first, of the
EXCELLENCIES of the present race of professors as compared with
some that have preceded it, I may venture to mention as no unimportant or
undistinguished one, a more marked and decided tone of religious
sentiment; a more public and explicit avowal of evangelical doctrine. I
do not mean merely a belief in the doctrine of the Trinity of persons in the
Godhead, and the great fundamental truth of the atonement of our Lord Jesus
Christ; but in connection with these, the all-important doctrines of
justification by faith alone, and the regeneration of the heart by the Holy
Spirit. These are now not only held by the great body of orthodox
Dissenters, and Wesleyan Methodists—but by a large proportion of the clergy
of the church of England; and are put forward without hesitation or reserve,
in bold and striking manner in their preaching. From the Restoration until
within the past twenty years, these glorious and fundamental truths lay
enshrined in most churches in the prayer-books of the Establishment; but
they have now obtained a resurrection from the writer's desk, and an
ascension into the pulpit, from whence they are exhibited and preached with
divine success. A life-giving system of doctrine has taken the place of a
dead theology and a cold morality—and the sentiments of Wickliffe, Cranmer,
Hooper, and Ridley, are again heard in the scenes which formerly resounded
with their voices. As to the Dissenters, a clear bright effulgence of the
truth has broken forth from that cloudy divinity, which at one time too
extensively prevailed, and seemed rather intended to conceal, than to reveal
the Sun of Righteousness.
It must be admitted that a century
ago there was a vagueness of sentiment among many of the non-conformist
ministers; evangelical doctrines were merged in devotional feeling—the
trumpet gave an uncertain sound from a number of their pulpits; and many of
the people knew neither their own opinions nor those of their pastors on the
person of Christ, or the work of the Spirit. Arianism or Sabellianism threw
a dark cold shadow over many of our churches, in which piety drooped and
zeal lived not at all. But the age of indifference and latitudinarianism is
past—a zeal for the truth as it is in Jesus has sprung up; vague theological
generalities have given place to definite Christian sentiments—no pastor is
received, no preacher is heard, no member admitted to our fellowship whose
orthodoxy is suspected. Confession both of evangelical doctrines and their
vital influence upon the heart, is required of all who take the oversight,
or enter into the communion of our churches.
It is delightful also to notice with
how much greater clearness and precision the doctrines of grace, as they are
called, are now put forth from the pulpit and the press, than they were at
one time when enveloped in the clouds of those systems of theology which
border so closely on Antimonianism. The writings of Williams, and Fuller,
and Scott, and Wardlaw, have caused the truth to be seen in its own pure
bright light, and delivered multitudes from the iron fetters of a hard,
cold, and merciless theology.
Our land is vocal with the joyful
sound of the preaching of Christ crucified, calling the dense population of
our cities and great towns, and the inhabitants of our smaller towns and
villages to the Cross for salvation. The Church, and the Meetinghouse echo
to each other the name that is above every name, and the worshipers of both
commingle with each other, as they pour forth from their respective places
of worship, with their souls thrilling with the notes of the same heavenly
music of redeeming love.
Nor ought I, while speaking of the
pulpit, to omit the press, from which evangelical truth is flowing in the
copious streams of its millions of publications. Infidelity, heresy, and
irreligion, have not monopolized the glorious art of printing. To say
nothing of other Institutions, I mention only the Religious Tract Society,
that spiritual armory for the church of Christ, where the whole church may
be supplied with the weapons of truth, and are furnished according to their
ability, for the conflict with the powers of darkness. Who will deny that
this zeal for the truth, clear, defined, evangelical truth, is a
heart-reviving feature of the age?
Owen, after lamenting the decay of
vital religion in his day, goes on to say—"There is yet another
consideration rendering the present state of the Christian religion in the
world yet more deplorable. The only principle of evangelical obedience, is
sacred truth and our faith therein. That alone is the doctrine which is
according to godliness, and all acceptable obedience to God is the obedience
of faith. Whatever men do, or pretend unto in a way of duty unto him,
whereof the truth of the Gospel is not the spring and measure, which is not
guided and animated thereby, it is not what God at present requires, nor
what he will eternally reward. Therefore, although men may, and multitudes
do, under a profession of that truth, live in open rebellion against its
power; yet the wounds of religion are not incurable, nor its stains
indelible, while the proper remedy is owned, and needs only due application.
But if this truth itself is corrupted or deserted, if its most glorious
mysteries be abused or despised, and if its most important doctrines be
impeached of error and falsehood, if the vain imaginations and carnal
reasonings of the serpentine wits of men be substituted in their place, or
exalted above them, what hope is there of recovery? The breach will grow
like the sea, until there be none to heal it. If the fountains of the waters
of the sanctuary be poisoned in their first rising, they will not heal the
nations unto whom they come. Where the doctrine of truth is corrupted,
the hearts of men will not be changed by it, nor their lives reformed."
This is strictly true. But blessed
be God, I do not think that this dark omen is over us. No such portent, as
the orb of truth sinking into the clouds of heresy, or the mists of
latitudinarianism, now hangs on the horizon of the church of Christ. True,
there are some things which if not checked, look with malign aspect on the
spiritual brightening prospects of the Church of England. There is no lover
of our Lord Jesus Christ—but what must unfeignedly and heartily rejoice in
the wondrous revival of pure Christian doctrine within the pale of her
communion; and none but what must tremble for the result of the attempt now
being made by certain Oxford Professors and Divines, aided by some high
church periodicals, to arrest the progress of what may be termed the second
Reformation, and to arrest it by reviving, in part, the errors which the
first was designed to abolish. But it will not succeed. If it should, then
may it be safely affirmed, that the Establishment is destined to die, not by
the hand of any of its foes—but by the matricidal violence of its own
children. But there is far too much genuine, healthy, and determined
Protestantism in the church of England to warrant any great apprehension of
such a result.
Nor is it any considerable abatement
from the statement I have made of the prevalence of sound Christian doctrine
among the professors of religion in the present day, that the deluded
followers of Irving have in some measure multiplied, and astounded the land
by their extravagant absurdities. Fanaticism, in some form or other, is
always sure to make its appearance, and do its mischief in an ardent and
excited age; just as thunder storms gather and explode amidst the fervid
heat of summer. The high temperature of 'religious feeling', when unchecked
by sober thought, supplies the elements of such fantastic notions; but they
must, in the nature of things, soon spend themselves, and leave the
atmosphere calm, and clear, and bright.
Not, however, that I mean to say,
that the Christians of our day are much given to the perusal of theological
treatises, or are profoundly learned in the science of divinity. Far from
it. Nothing but what is strictly orthodox in sentiment will be received—but
then they are content with small portions of knowledge, and those must be
such as can be obtained without the cost of much time, or the labor of much
thinking. There was an era when the church of God thought herself much
indebted to those devoted men, who furnished not their own times alone—but
all coming ages with such admirable materials for thinking, and such
abundant food for meditation, in their incomparable volumes—when private and
even unlettered Christians were familiar with octavos and even quartos:,
when Hall and Reynolds, Owen and Baxter, Howe and Bates, Doddridge and
Watts, were the daily companions of the people of God. But who converses
with these venerable fathers now? What is the current sacred literature of
the pious in this age? Who now thinks of purchasing anything but magazines
and reviews, memoirs, elementary treatises, and compendiums of truth? How
strange it would be to find a serious friend or neighbor late at night
studying Edwards on "the Freedom of the Will," Dwight's Theology, or Scott's
Essays.
If Christians read today, it must be
something sound, and this is a cause of gratitude; but it must be
also short. Something that is new and moving—something that may be
read without much thought. A considerable portion of the religious reading
of Christians in the present day is religious news—it lays hold not merely
of the imagination—but of the holiest and most philanthropic feelings of the
heart—it is happily become abundant in consequence of the operations of our
religious institutions; it is cheapened down to the financial resources of
almost the poorest individual; and moreover, it supplies the great stimulus
which not only sustains but increases benevolent exertion. He that would
attempt to stop these sources of information would not only rob myriads of
Christians of some of the purest joys they will ever taste this side of
heaven—but would cut off the streams of beneficence which flow through the
channels of our societies to irrigate the moral deserts of the world. But
still we must take care that even this species of reading may not become
engrossing. If zeal increases, knowledge should increase with it. An
exclusive or prevailing taste for religious news will be followed by some of
the lamentable effects which result from the reading of works of fiction.
The mind will in both cases be gradually unfitted for deep and patient
investigation. A constant and intent application of the mind to exciting
facts, will indispose it for the contemplation of Scriptural principles, and
produce an unceasing demand for something new and striking, which will go on
increasing the appetite for novelty, until what is old, and plain, and
simple, will become utterly tasteless and insipid.
I mention now another excellence by
which the professors of the present age are distinguished, and it is indeed
a noble one—I mean that spirit of holy zeal for the propagation of
religion, both at home and abroad, which is so general and so active.
The Puritans, and first Non-conformists, it must be admitted, did little in
this way, for indeed they had little or no opportunity—the ruthless, bloody,
and remorseless spirit of persecution, left them no other way of diffusing
Christianity, than by the example of their suffering patience, or by flying
before the storm of oppression, and carrying the gospel into the land of
their exile. This they neglected not to do, and the gigantic Republic of the
United States of America is in great measure the result of their migration;
a country destined to share with the fatherland, the honor of converting the
world to Christ.
But coming forward half a century in
the history of the churches of our own order, we find them when protected by
the act of Toleration, drawing the curtains around them, and lying down to
slumber upon their newly obtained liberty. More than a century was given to
their inglorious repose—more than a century was lost to the world—during
which, probably, millions of immortal souls went into eternity, unpitied and
unsanctified. It is melancholy now to look back, and think of the silence
and inactivity which reigned over the Christian world before the present
missionary spirit arose. The valley of dry bones spread out before our
forefathers—but none went forth to prophesy to the slain. There were no
Sunday schools, no Tract societies, no Bible societies, for our own country;
and no Missionary societies for foreign nations, except such as had little
else than the name. The state of the poor at home, and of heathen nations
abroad, was almost as well known then as now; there were printing-presses
then as there are now, and also ships, colonies, and commerce—but next to
nothing was done for the conversion of the world.
Blessed be the God of love and truth
things are different now—he has poured out the beginnings of his grace upon
this age, and has awakened and called his people to the work of evangelizing
the world. They begin to understand and to feel that the spirit of
Christianity is essentially a proselyting spirit; that to diffuse the gospel
is no less a duty than to believe it; and that no man can really fulfill all
his duties as a Christian, who does not in some way or other seek to make
his neighbors such. Look around on the Christian church. Every denomination
has its Missionary Society, and every congregation its missionary
organization. Every object on which the eye of benevolence can rest which
needs its exertions has its separate and appropriate confederacy of mercy
for its relief—so that it is almost difficult to mention a subject of
sorrow, ignorance, or wickedness, which is not found in his own special
classification, with the provision for relief suited to his peculiar
circumstances. Let anyone visit our Metropolis in the month of May—that
beautiful season of the year, so wisely selected to harmonize the
appearances of the world of nature and of grace, when the budding hopes and
springing prospects of both are put forth together; let him witness the
signs of holy activity which are conspicuous even amidst the teeming
population and multitudinous pursuits of that wondrous city; let him read
the long list of public meetings occupying a large portion of the whole
month; let him sum up the number of societies for diversified objects, all
connected with the spread of religion through one channel, and over one part
of the world or other; let him count the stations occupied, and the agents
employed; let him compute the money collected, and hear the reports read—and
then let him say if God has not granted in his sovereign mercy, one rich and
glorious distinction to the professors of the age in which he lives.
In support of all these
Institutions, think of the money, the time, the gratuitous labor, and the
influence that are bestowed; and think also of the increasing spirit
of liberality going through our churches; the poor give now what the rich
gave formerly, and some of the rich give in a year what their wealthy
ancestors scarcely contributed in a whole life. The single guinea is
multiplied into tens, and into hundreds. There is a continual expansion of
the heart going on, which is preparing for the time when "holiness to the
Lord shall be written on the merchandise of Tyre and the bells of the
horses." Sums are contributed which would astonish those who have gone to
their rest, if they could visit earth again. And when money cannot be
given in this proportion, how many are giving their time, and for that
purpose taking it from domestic enjoyment, literary leisure, innocent
recreation, and necessary repose. People of all ranks, and all ages, and
both sexes, are engaged. Evangelization is the cry of the day, the watchword
of the age—so that the person who gives nothing, and does nothing, is
charged with being deficient, and suspected of questionable piety.
Not that we have yet reached the
height of our duty, and are doing all we ought to do—far, very far
from it. We are vastly below our obligations. Those who come after us, will
smile at our notions of liberality, and our grand-children will be ready to
question whether we rightly understood the meaning of the term. What we are
beginning, they will carry on and improve. Ours is but the spring, which by
the time it reaches them, will have swollen into a stream; but still through
God's grace, we are doing something and must do more. The tradesman must
give a larger share of his profits, and the rich man dip far deeper into his
purse. There must be a prevailing willingness to practice self-denial, and
to make sacrifices for the cause of Christ. We are yet immeasurably below
our principles and professions, in what we do for the conversion of men's
souls.
If we really believe that the loss
of one human soul is a greater catastrophe than the wreck of an empire, or a
world, what are we doing to prevent the loss of millions of such souls?
Our zeal ought to be and must be more
fervent, and it should also become more pure. There is in this day far too
much blowing of trumpets; too much display; too much parade and ostentation;
too much noise and bustle; too much "come, see my zeal for the Lord," too
much individual and congregational vanity; and too much forbidden incense
and strange fire in the censers of those who minister at the altar. This is
to be regretted as well as acknowledged; and should be amended as
well as acknowledged. God will not give the full measure of his blessing
until we serve him in a better spirit—with deeper humility, and a more
devout mind.
But still, the spirit of the age is
an active and a liberal one. The great principle begins to be reorganized,
that every church is, or ought to be, a home, and foreign missionary society
in itself, and every member of every church, in one way or other, a
missionary. It begins to be felt that each Christian is put in trust with
the gospel for the benefit of the world, and that he is an unfaithful
trustee, abusing his trust, and incurring a solemn responsibility if he does
nothing to spread Christianity in the world. I look upon this spirit as the
morning star of the millennial day; it is a revival of primitive
Christianity, and will not fail to bring up the latter day glory. It is of
more consequence than all the organizations of religions zeal, all the noble
institutions of the day; for if these were all by any means destroyed
tomorrow, this missionary spirit would cause them all to be rebuilt on a
larger and an improved scale. The spirit is abroad, which is to lead all
nations into the fold of Christ; and after making every deduction from the
zeal of the present day which is demanded on account of impure motive, there
must be a vast mass of genuine piety in existence, to draw forth so much
liberality and effort for extending the kingdom of Christ. There has been
nothing like it since the days of the apostles. God has shed upon us some of
his choicest gifts and richest honors; may we not be insensible to our high
distinction.
What renders this missionary spirit
the more remarkable in itself, and the more to be relied upon as a token for
good, and a proof of its heavenly origin, is the extraordinary circumstances
of the age during which it has carried on its operations. It commenced
amidst the throes and convulsions of nations that were caused by the French
revolution, and sent forth its first messages of peace and goodwill to the
world, when the hearts of the people had scarcely ceased to palpitate with
the enormities of the reign of terror. Who, at such a time, could think of
the miseries of distant countries, when they were trembling for the
existence of their own? Yet at such a time, amidst the dread of invasion
from abroad, and the fear of internal commotion at home, a society was
formed for the conversion of the world. During all our national struggles
with the Gallican conqueror, it held on its noble career as little diverted
from its course as the angel flying through the midst of heaven with the
everlasting gospel for all nations, might be supposed to be by the noise of
the winds, or the tumults of the ocean. It neither paused in war, nor
relaxed in peace, nor lost its power to interest the public mind, amidst the
greatest political excitement which ever agitated the nations of Europe. The
poor Pagan living in sin, and dying in despair, was never forgotten, when
kings were tumbling from their thrones, and crowns were rolling in the dust.
National bankruptcy has threatened us—but still amidst the crash of falling
banks and houses of commerce, no one ever dreamed of stopping the supplies
necessary for missionary operations. Such a thought never entered the mind
of our directors, as suspending our zeal until the storm had blown over.
Was the contest of parties ever more
fierce? Was the fever of excitement ever higher? Was there ever a time when
so much animosity, ill-will, and engrossing party spirit were in operation?
And what has become of the missionary cause? There, there it is—floating
like the ark over the depths of the deluge, safe and calm amidst the uproar
of the elements, piloted by heaven, and bearing the destiny of earth. O what
a spectacle does the kingdom at the present moment present, of glory on one
hand, and disgrace on the other—all parties wrangling with each other, yet
all struggling for the conversion of the world—retiring from the scenes of
their common warfare, to pursue each in his private sphere the works of
charity and peace. It was a glorious scene at one of the May meetings in the
metropolis, when, upon the resignation of a popular ministry, the country
was at the highest pitch of political enthusiasm, and the beam of our
national destiny was trembling in the balance, to see with what abstraction
of mind and unabated zeal the different societies went to their labor of
love; and to behold how the evangelists of the world pursued their work,
amidst events which almost paralyzed trade. And at this present moment, not
a single missionary society is neglected, nor does anyone party relax its
missionary ardor for the sake of pursuing with greater single-mindedness any
sectarian object. Nothing diverts the attention of the friends of missions
from their object, nor damps their zeal, nor diminishes their liberality.
The gospel is spreading abroad, while the friends of it are withdrawing from
each other at home. Does it not look therefore as if God had indeed called
us and keeps us to our work of converting the world, and bound us to it by a
tie which nothing shall break? And what a delightful thing is it to think
of, that though we are breaking from each other, we cannot break away from
helping a perishing world. Is not this a token for good, a bright omen
shedding a luster upon many dark signs?
II. I now go on to point out our DEFECTS and BLEMISHES,
and show wherein we come short of others that have gone before us.
1. Professors are in danger, and in
too many instances fall into it, of neglecting those parts of religion which
are strictly personal, and substituting a social religion, for an
individual piety.
True religion,
in the first and most important view of it, is essentially a personal and
individual concern. It is an affair between God and a man's own soul. Each
person has to transact with Jehovah through Christ for himself.
In the midst of the church, and as a
member of it, he is still dealt with by God personally and alone. He has
individual privileges. He is singly as much the object of the
divine love of the Father, the purchase of the Son's blood, and the
communication of the Spirit's influence—as if the whole scheme of redemption
were contrived and executed for him! He may, without hesitation or
presumption, say, "God is my God; Christ is my Savior; the
Spirit is my Sanctifier; mine is the covenant of grace, with
all its varied, rich, eternal blessings; mine the promises of the
word—heaven, glory, immortality are all mine!" Yes! it is with each
Christian in the world of grace as it is with each man in the world of
nature; the latter has the whole effulgence of the sun pouring upon him, as
much so as if there was not another eye but his to behold the splendor; and
the former has the whole plenitude of divine grace descending upon his
soul—as truly as if there were no others that needed or shared it. Blessed
thought! he has individual and personal dealings with God, and does not
derive it all merely from his association with the church.
But then he has individual
duties, as well as privileges. The whole and entire obligations of
the moral law; of the rule of Christian love; of the duty of mortification
of sin, rest upon him; he is to believe, to hope, to love, to pray
for, and by himself. He has his own soul to be saved; his own heart
to be renewed and sanctified; his own temper to be rendered meek, gentle,
and benevolent; and nothing can release him from the obligations to do all
this, no, not even the most assiduous attention to the welfare of others;
for zeal cannot be a substitute for piety. The attendance at the
committee-room cannot be an excuse for neglecting the closet; and the
support of a society can be no apology for neglecting to mortify a
corruption. Yet there is a tendency in this day to forget this. It is a day
of association and organization; men act much with others, and there is an
imminent danger of losing sight of religion as a personal, private, and
individual concern. We are too much drawn away from our closets and
ourselves. Our eye is taken off from our own hearts and diverted to others;
we lose the habit of silent meditation in that of discussion; we have become
inapt for self-conference; we are so accustomed to excitement, that there is
a dullness in solitude; we are so used to lean upon others, that our piety
seems scarcely able to walk or stand alone. We find it difficult to detach
ourselves from our fellows, and make ourselves the first and separate object
of our solicitude, and to carry on what belongs to us in an isolated state.
Private prayer is neglected for that which is social; the Bible is neglected
for the sermon; and the closet is neglected for the committee-room. The
great system of revealed truth is not sufficiently brought before us in its
grandeur, glory, and demands, as a matter for our individual contemplation,
reception, and application. This is one defect.
2. Another, and which is akin to it,
is a lack of that high-toned piety and deep devotional feeling, which
characterized the Christians of some past ages.
This remark will apply to the professors of all
denominations. The life of faith, and hope, and prayer, is too low with them
all. Engrossed too much by trade, politics, and social entertainments, with
the exception of a little time redeemed for the public institutions of the
day, they have scarcely any leisure for the exercises of the closet, and the
high communings with God in which those who have gone before us indulged.
Thus the diaries, memoirs, and funeral sermons, which have been handed down
to us from past times, seem to indicate, that if we excel in diffusing
religion, our ancestors did in exemplifying it—and that if we are above them
in active zeal, they were our superiors in serious, humble and spiritual
piety. "The increasing demand of the great Christian public," says Humphrey,
"is for excitement—for something that will produce strong feeling,
and gratify an over-craving curiosity. Like the Athenians, and the strangers
who were there, how many would apparently be glad to spend their time in
nothing else but either to tell or hear something new. Hence the
religious dissipation of large towns—the eagerness of inquiry after new
preachers, and the running from one place of worship to another, for the
mere gratification of a vain curiosity. Hence the growing aversion of
anything weighty and serious in the pulpit, and the increasing demand for
what are called popular discourses—so that unless the preacher makes
some strong appeals to the sympathies and passions of his hearers; unless he
takes them out into the graveyard, or carries them to the abode of recent
widowhood, and supperless orphanage; or transports them to Juggernaut or the
Ganges; he is dry and heartless, or plodding and metaphysical, and, of
course, scarcely to be tolerated. To sit, as our fathers of the last century
used to do, Sabbath after Sabbath, under sound doctrinal discussion, and to
see the hourglass turned before the improvement of the sermon, who could
endure it?" The excitement of the passions, rather than the elevation of the
soul to God and the cultivation of the heart, seems to be the religion of a
great many of the present day. Of the crowded and deeply affected audiences
that hang in breathless silence upon the popular preachers in the church,
the chapel, and the meeting-house, and fancy themselves so powerfully
impressed by the discourses of their favorite minister, how few,
comparatively, are found spending their hours in the closet, plying the work
of mortification of sin, promoting the spirit of charity, communing with
God, and rising on the wings of faith and hope—to the contemplation of
eternity. My opinion, then, is, that the number of real Christians is
greatly increased—but that in general they are not eminent ones, so far as
relates to the higher class of devotional and personal excellences. Religion
is spread over a wider surface—but in these things it has lost in depth what
it has gained in breadth; it is the religion of activity rather than of
meditation—of the imagination rather than the heart; of the place of public
resort rather than the retirement of the closet; and with the bustling
spirit of proselytism, does not blend enough of the deep conviction,
elevated devotion, and patient self-denial.
3. Perhaps a lack of
conscientiousness may be charged upon many of the professors of the
present day.
I occupy no narrow
sphere of observation, and am acquainted, either personally or by report,
with many Christians of various denominations, and I am compelled to believe
that there is among them all a sad deficiency of that exquisite tenderness
of conscience, which is the most unequivocal sign and expression of eminent
piety. Bright and illustrious examples, I allow, there are many in every
section of the church, at this day, of Christians watchful and
jealous over themselves, even unto trembling, lest they should sin against
God or man; sensitive even to painfulness on the subject of transgression;
and whose whole life is a holy mixture of vigilance, penitence, and prayer.
But, ah! how many are there of an
opposite character, whose conscience, though sufficiently alive to the
greater acts of transgression, has neither vision to discern the
criminality of little sins, nor susceptibility to feel them. Where are the
men who, by the indulgence of a single feeling contrary to purity or love,
or the utterance of a single word opposed to truth or kindness, or the
performance of a single act, which in the smallest degree infringes the law
of justice, honor, or mercy—would feel an instant wound in the spirit, which
nothing could mollify or heal, but a fresh exercise of repentance and faith?
Where are the men who have placed their consciences in the light of
revelation, and who live both in reference to small things and great, in
habitual reverence of this faithful monitor and solemn judge? There are
some such—but they are too few in any section of the Christian church in
this day. This lack of conscientiousness is strikingly apparent in the mode
of conducting the affairs of business. This, however, will be enlarged upon
in a subsequent part of the volume, as will also—
4. Conformity to the world, which is
now one of the sins of God's professing people.
5. There is probably scarcely any
deficiency of the church in the present day, as compared with preceding
generations, more apparent than the neglect of domestic piety.
This, I believe, is generally admitted, and
not without reason. In addition to the devout and regular performance of
family prayer, night and morning, the evenings of the Sabbath were by our
forefathers a consecrated season for the catechetical instruction of the
children. The father, with patriarchal grace, acted as the prophet as well
as the priest and king of his household; and as a consequence naturally to
be looked for, the churches were principally replenished from the families
of the righteous—is it so now? Are the communicants at the Lord's table,
either in the Church of England, among the Methodists, or the Dissenters,
chiefly composed of "the children of the kingdom?" How is this—but from a
relaxation of domestic piety?
Family prayer, though in few
families omitted, is not performed with that constancy, solemnity, and
fervor, which is calculated to interest and to edify; parental authority is
not maintained with that steadiness which is adopted to inspire respect, and
that affection which is likely to secure obedience; and as to the judicious,
diligent, and engaging communication of religious instruction, which is
necessary as well to inform the mind, to enlighten the conscience, and to
form the character—it is in some families almost entirely neglected. I bring
no false accusation, when I affirm that in many houses, both among
Episcopalians and Dissenters, the heads of which stand high among the
professors of the day, family religion is but the form of godliness without
its power.
On the other hand, it is my
happiness to have been the delighted witness, and that in many cases too, of
the blessed and holy results of a good system of domestic religious
instruction. But it cannot be said that this generally prevails in the
religious world. Far more solicitude is felt, and far more pains are taken
by many, to educate their children for this world than for the next, and to
fit them to act their part well for time, than to prepare them for the
scenes of eternity.
Catechetical instruction,
I lament to think, has fallen too much into neglect, and has gone out of
fashion with many. True, it is, that a judicious and well-informed parent
can dispense with such helps, and leading his children at once to behold the
wide expanse of religious truth, as it spreads out in boundless grandeur in
the Bible, can point out the separate beauties and harmonious scenes of the
whole prospect. But this is not the case with all. They need something more
than the scriptures, and can do little except in the way of catechism.
Besides, it is a question, whether the adoption of both plans is not, when
both are well conducted, the most perfect method of conveying
religious truth to the minds of the young. A catechetical answer, if well
drawn, not only helps the memory of the learner—but aids his understanding
too; it is the rays of many separate passages of scripture converging at a
point, which reflects back its light upon the very source whence it is
derived. It is the abuse of these helps, not their use, that is to be
discouraged.
Our generation is rich in advantages
of another kind—I mean those numerous interrogatory exercises upon the
scriptures which have been published for the instruction of the young, and
which leave the present generation of parents still more inexcusable if they
neglect the religious education of their children.* It is to be recollected,
however, that the communication of knowledge is only one part of a
religious education. The head may be attended to, while the heart is
neglected; and it is the obvious tendency of this age to carry on the one
far in advance of the other. It is the mistake of the people of the world in
the business of general education, to attach more importance to literature
and physical science than to virtue; and no less the mistake of pious people
in their systems of religious education, to be more earnest in communicating
scriptural knowledge, than in forming the pious character. Here then is the
defect to be supplied, a lack of deep concern, and judicious, persevering,
and prayerful effort to train up our children in the way they should go, and
to prepare them to become members first of the church on earth, and then of
the church in heaven.
* Of the numerous works of this kind
that have come under my notice, I have seen none superior to that of Mrs.
Henderson, which I very cordially recommend both for the use of families and
Bible classes.
6. The last thing I shall mention as
an inferiority of the present generation of professors to their ancestors,
is a certain kind of fickleness in their religious profession, a lack
of fixedness, and gravity in their Christian habits.
Often hastily assumed, it is of course lightly held,
and easily changed or modified. It is painful to observe what very trivial
causes in some instances, will induce an alteration in their whole conduct,
and lead some to break their religious connections, to abandon the place
where their fathers worshiped God, and forsake the minister who had been
blessed to their conversion. Nor does the instability stop here, for they
can shift themselves from one denomination to another with as much ease as
they can their cushions and their books from one chapel to another.
Continual migrations are going on from the Church of England to Dissenters,
and from the Dissenters back to the Church of England; and between the
different denominations and congregations of nonconformists. Where this is
really the result of conviction, it must be approved and not condemned; for
no man should consider his religious sentiments merely in the light of a
hereditary possession—but as a matter of intelligent and conscientious
preference; it is beneath the dignity of a man, much more the profession of
a Christian, to have no other reason for our belief, than that it was held
by our fathers before us. But how many cases are there in which people are
neither held by hereditary prejudice, nor moved by an enlightened
conscience—but actuated solely by fashion or convenience.
Some are carried about by the
shifting tides and variable winds of political opinion and party spirit,
others by friends, and more still by the impulses of imagination and
variable preference. It is the loud and bitter lament of a splendid but
papistical writer in the Quarterly Review, that a large portion of the
members of the Church of England have lost much of their veneration for, and
attachment to, the Church, as such, and are moved and influenced only
by the weaker, and more variable affection for her formularies and her
ministers; and are consequently sunk down from the feelings of high
churchmen, to a level approaching that of dissent. Woeful apostasy! Sad
degeneracy!
Perhaps, however, there may be found
in all denominations too great a predominance of taste and feeling—over
judgment and conscience in matters of religion, though not as in this case,
a diminished reverence for the Church as an ecclesiastical
abstraction. Observe the influence which one popular preacher has in large
towns and cities over the members of his own denomination, whether it be the
Establishment or the Dissenters. This fresh wonder, like the new moon, sets
the whole ocean in movement, by the attraction of his genius, always causing
a high tide to follow upon his appearance, and leaving the opposite shores
proportionably deserted. Old and tried clergymen and pastors are forsaken
for this youth of much rhetoric and a fine voice; and that not by young
females only—but by those whom the veteran minister had been the instrument
of converting from the error of their ways, and in laboring for whose
spiritual edification he had brought on himself the increasing infirmities
of a premature old age.
It does indeed appear to me and has
to others, that religion has lost something of its steadiness, its
seriousness, and its dignity, and has acquired too much of the flutter and
the vanity of a thing of fashion and excitement. I do not want the 'chain of
caste' to bind men to their hereditary opinions, nor 'family prejudice' to
make them ecclesiastical fixtures in the place of their fathers, nor the
'gloom of superstition' to invest them with the air and deportment of
spectral forms—but a profession of religion is the most solemn, though most
joyful thing on earth, and ought to be sustained in all its exercises and
habits, with an appropriate seriousness, dignity, and conscientiousness.
Such, then, is my own estimate of
the state of professors in the present day. I have been anxious neither to
charge them with faults of which they are not guilty, nor to extenuate such
faults as truly belong to them—nor on the other hand to deny or to flatter
their excellencies. I see many things to lament, and most of all the bitter
animosity which exists between the two great bodies of Protestants in this
kingdom, or at any rate in one of them towards the other. But I see much to
inspire me with gratitude for the present, and hope for the future. I am not
one of those who in the signs of the times see nothing but dark portents,
and in the voices of passing events hear nothing but denunciations. Our
position is that of nature in early spring, when there may be far more of
cold wind, and biting frost, and drifting snow, than there was during many
of the hybernal days; but withal, these signs of lingering winter are
blended with symptoms of approaching summer.
I have pointed out what is
wrong—with the hope of helping to set it right; and I have adverted to what
is good—with the design of making it better. I have not uttered the language
of complaining and discontent—for I feel there is no occasion for them. No
age that has yet existed makes me regret that I was born in that which is
now passing over us. I believe the world is not only growing older—but wiser
and better; and that Christ's body, the church, is increasing not only in
bulk—but in vigor. Many evils exist—but they will be, I hope, removed or
subdued by the Spirit of God accompanying his truth. Nothing will be
permitted to hinder the advance of Christ s kingdom. "Though," says South,
"there be a lion, a bull, a venomous serpent, and a fiery scorpion in the
Zodiac, yet still the sun holds on his way, goes through them all, brings
the year about, [covers the fields with verdure, the trees with fruit, and
the earth with yellow harvests,] finishes his course, shines and is glorious
in spite of such opposition.'' So will it be with the orb of the moral
world.
Still, however, as the record of the
past is preserved for the improvement of the present, and the memorial of
the present is to be kept for the benefit of what is now the future, if in
looking back we find virtues in our ancestors which we have not, or which we
possess in less degrees, let us add their excellences to our own; and if
they are seen to possess faults which we find not in ourselves, let us be
thankful for, though not proud of our superiority. If they excelled us in
the devotional, and spiritual, and conscientious—and we excel them in the
active, the liberal, and the diffusive; let it be our business instead of
endeavoring to settle which is the more excellent way, to unite them both,
which is unquestionably the most excellent. Let us feed the lamp of
zeal which we are holding up amidst a dark world—with the oil of piety.
Let the light of truth shine forth from a
heart burning with the fire of holy love.
In the beautiful pyramid of
Christian graces, which the Apostle has raised, he laid the foundation in
faith, and placed charity at the apex, as if to remind us that the personal
virtues must support the relative ones. As the priests of the Levitical
economy, hallowed themselves for the work of the Lord in the temple,
so must the Christian priesthood, the professors of Christ, sanctify
themselves, not by animal sacrifices and ablutions of water to the purifying
of the flesh—but by renewed faith in the Lamb of God, and the renewed
filling of the Holy Spirit, for the greater work, to which God in his
providence has called them in the conversion of the world.
We must separate ourselves from the
love of the world, to this stupendous achievement, this high and holy
service, by more of the life of faith, the power of prayer, and the
self-denial of true godliness. A dispensation connected intimately with the
scheme of redemption, the moral destinies of the world, and the glories of
eternity, is come upon us, and committed to us—and it is to be feared we are
not ready for it. We are going forth to our vocation—but it is rather in the
feebleness than the fatness of our strength. Never, O never, may we forget
that religious societies, however well supported with funds, are to us but
as the hands and the arms of Samson were to that wondrous man when he did
his mighty deeds; but that it is piety, humble, fervent, spiritual,
believing, praying piety, that is as the lock of his strength, which enabled
him in the name of God to triumph even in death, over Dagon and his
idolatrous worshipers!