The British Churches in relation to the British People

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BR 742 .M5

Miall, Edward, 1809-1881,
The Brit:lsh Churches In
relat:lon "to "bhe Brx-blsh

THE

BRITISH CHURCHES

IN RELATION TO THE

BRITISH PEOPLE.

EDWARD^MIALL.

LONDON :
ARTHUR UALL, VIRTUE AND CO., PATERNOSTER-ROW.

1849.

IContron :

PREFACE

The Congregational Union of England and "Wales
having, some time last year, mooted for discussion
the question of the general indifference of the
working classes to our religious institutions, I
thought it a good opportunity to obtain from
persons belonging to that section of the com-
munity, and, therefore, familiar with their
thoughts and habits, some information which
might aid in conducting us to right conclusions.
With this view I opened the columns of the
Nonconformist, for several weeks in succession,
to letters from working men, in which they were
invited to state such reasons for the assumed
fact, as they might happen to know had force
upon the members of the class. I closed this
series of interesting communications with some

iv PREFACE.

articles from my own pen, in which I endeavoured
to account for the state of things then under inves-
tigation. In preparing those articles, I felt myself
much hampered by the narrowness of the ground
selected for inquiry, and a strong desire sprung
up in my bosom to deal with a far more com-
prehensive question — namely, the comparative
inefficiency of the British Churches in respect
to the British people at large. The urgent
requests of some too partial friends fostered that
desire into determination — and this volume is the
fruit of it.

The substance of the following pages has
already been given to a very small fraction of
the public in a course of lectures, delivered during
the month of November, in the Theatre of the
City of London Literary Listitute. * I may

• I applied for the lesser Exeter Hall— but after having furnished
the Secretary with a prospectus of the lectures, I was informed by
him that the Committee declined acceding to my request. They
probably judged that they would act more in accordance with the
religious and philanthropic objects for which that edifice was erected,
by letting the room for a series of " Dramatic Readings," which I
1( ani from advertisements are about to take place there.

PREFACE.

mention, however, that they were prepared, not
for oral delivery, but for the press.

Such being the case, it may strike the reader
as strange that I have everywhere spoken in
the first person. I have done so advisedly. Taste
would have led me to comply with the usual
custom — for forms of speech which savour of
egotism are not the most graceful. But in a
matter of so much importance, I felt it due to
the public that the opinions given, or the changes
advocated in this volume, should not derive a
factitious value from the style in which they are
set forth — and the reader, therefore, is perpetually
reminded that nothing more than the views of
the individual writer is before him, and that,
consequently, they have no other authority than
their actual conformity with truth may be found
to give them. Whether there was need for this
deviation from the etiquette of authorship may
be fairly disputed — but, assuredly, it has been
dictated by an opposite feeling to that of vanity.

yi PREFACE.

A few passages in the following pages may
be recognised by some as having been addressed
to the public in other productions of the writer.
They are but few — and most of them have
appeared in an ephemeral form merely. I have
not thought it worth while, therefore, to distin-
guish them. They happened to serve my present
purpose — and being my own, I saw no good reason
for rejecting them.

I now submit the volume to the candid attention
of all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity.
It contains matter worthy of serious consideration
by all. The evils I have laboured to depict are
not confined to any denomination. My illustra-
tions of them are of course drawn from those
with which I am best acquainted — but, with few
exceptions, I fancy, the strain of my observations
will be found to hold good in reference to all.
Most emphatically may it be said of this question,
that it is not one of sect or party. The pervading
spirit of the book will best explain my motives —

PREFACE. Vll

the reasonings it contains must be left to explain
themselves. Investigation, the more searching the
better, is all that I court for the matters herein
treated of — where I have erred, correction — where
I am right, corroboration — in any case, an impar-
tial, unimpassioned, conscientious deference to
Truth. May Jesus Christ, the Head of the
Church, the power and extent of whose kingdom
I desire to promote, make this attempt, in some
way, conducive to that happy issue!

E. M.

1], TuFNELL Park, Hollo way.
Decemher 1, 1849.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW IT SHOULD BE TREATED.

General Design stated — The task undertaken not agreeable — in the
view of some, not wise — Evils incident to the inquiry — not conclusive
against it — Duty to be gathered from the dispensation under which we
live — This the object of the present chapter — Christianity a life — Sup-
poses assimilation — The nature of religious life — Growth — Mode of
Divine manifestation — Demands self-action or effort — Effort necessary
to a sense of proprietorship — God's arrangements with a view to this life
— Aim at the increase of its power — The sharpening of its senses — The
multiplying of its manifestations — The Church an aggregate embodi-
ment of the same spiritual life. Hence our duty to it should be
deduced — Not to be petted into delicacy — Educated by free utterance
of opinion, correct and incorrect — No occasion for " the doctrine of
reserve." Bearing of these observations on the present inquiry —
Unsound state of the Church — Evil of silence on the subject. Use-
lessness — Conclusion Page 1 — 59

CHAPTER n.

THE PROPER OBJECT AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH.

Design of the chapter stated — Moral deterioration of human
nature — How accounted for — Consists in want of sympathy with
God's moral government — Aggravated and confirmed by guilt —
Devoid of all power of self-restoration — God's jilan for overcoming
this evil — His mind conveyed to us in a series of historical facts — all
in keeping with his purpose to attract man's symj^athy to moral laAv —
The purport of those facts and their adaptation to win man to hearty
subjection — Supreme authority working out our deliverance — at the

X CONTENTS.

cost of extreme suffering — resulting in our elevation to a status of
moral freedom. The exhibition of this scheme of reconciliation
fitly assigned to men — to men who appreciate it — to men in organized
associations or Churches— Main end for which Churches have been
instituted— Harmony of spirit with that end requisite to success —
will show itself in sympathy with God's rights — Interest in man's
welfare— Faith in the gospel as a means to secure both — Conclusion

63—115

CHAPTER III.

RELIGION OF THE BRITISH CHURCHES.

Reasonable anticipations of the Churches' success — Not realized in
existing facts — Feebleness of spiritual life in the British Churches —
Plan adopted for exhibiting it — God's rights the main end of the
gospel — Importance of so regarding them — Commonly considered
secondary to man's safety and happiness — Practical fruits of the
error seen in the treatment of religion as a distinct branch of human
duty — in the arbitrary manner in which obligation is recognised — in
the vicarious discharge of important responsibilities — and in the
failing ])ower of gospel truth over the popular mind — Substitution of
law for love as the Spirit of Christianity — Etiects of the error —
Constraint — Compromise — War with irreligion in its external modi-
fications— Letter exalted above spirit — Consequent sectarianism and
its attendant evils— Concluding remarks .... 119 — 174

CHAPTER IV.

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

Causes of weakness reviewed in the foregoing chapter — Indigenous
— Show the want of a higher style of religion — Amongst extraneous
causes tlie aristocratic sentiment is prominent — Plan of the chapter —
Sense in which tlie phrase is employed— Spirit of caste — Man valued
according to worldly position— Not in harmony with the spirit of the
gosi)el— with its sjjiiitual purport — with the life of Christ— with
j)receptivc directions— with Church fellowship — Aristocratic sentiment
in the British Churches— Caution against mistakes— Its evil action
upon tlie sympathies of the Churches— upon their enterprises— upon
their ])ractical methods of usefulness— Pernicious consequences attri-
butable to it — Loss of moral infiuence — Bitterness of unbelief
anii)iig.st the poor. Popular iiiditference— Neglected capabilities

177-228

CONTENTS. XI

CHAPTER V.

THE PKOFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

Moral power evolved by organized association— Organization pre-
supposes government. " The ministry," comparatively little said about
it in the New Testament. "Oversight" and "teaching" clearly
distinct functions. " Teaching" classed by the New Testament with
other " gifts." Modern notions of a "ministerial order" not scriptural.
Chm-ch machinery in apostolic times — The professional sentiment
founded on mistaken views of the ministry. Fed by ministerial
education — ordination — Limitation of eldership in each Chm-ch to
one person — Renunciation of secular pursuits — Clerical titles, dress,
&c. Evils entailed on the Churches by the professional sentiment —
Fosters the multiplication of " interests" — Transfers responsibility
from the Church to the minister — Represses lay talent and enterprise
— Nourishes ministerial esprit de corps — Exposes the proclamation of
the Gospel to serious disadvantages — Conclusion . . 231 — 288

CHAPTER VI.

THE TRADE SPIRIT.

Interest in the present increased by interest in the future — Chris-
tianity does not unfit men for secular pursuits — Trade, the handmaid
of religion — The trade spirit defined and described — Stimulants to it
in this country — Somewhat moderated by the power of religious life —
but, to a greater extent, injurious to it — Illustrations — Choice of
employment— Speculation — Truthfulness — Honesty — Consideration of
the good of others — Treatment of dependents — As it regards those
received into the household — Such as work merely for stipulated
wages — Evil influence of the tracle spirit upon the character and
entei'prise of our Churches — Conclusion .... 291 — 341

CHAPTER VII.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES.

The Churches' failure accounted for in the main by the Churches'
character — Partly to be ascribed to external hindrances — Extreme
poverty obstructive of religious efi'ort — Cannot be evangelized —
Radiates through all classes an immoral influence — Excessive total an
obstacle to the success of the Churches — Not removed by the inter-

Xll CONTENTS.

vention of the Sabbath — Popular ignorance a barrier to the progress
of Divine truth — Political religionism as developed in Church
Establishments — Essential idea embodied in State Churches — They
encroach upon the prerogatives of Christ — Attract men to the
ministiy from worldly motives — Who jealously oppose the labours of
others — Shut out large classes from the benefit of voluntary Christian
effort — Substitute ritualism for spiritual life — This position illustrated
by a glance at the religious character of the aristocracy, the middle-
classes, and the working-men — Paralyze the sympathies of the
Churches — Misrepresent the object and spirit of the Gospel — General
observations, applying to all the foregoing hindi'ances — How far the
Churches are responsible for their existence — The obstruction they
offer not to be overcome by direct religious means . . 345 — 399

CHAPTER VIII.

KEMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS AND CONCLUSION.

The vis medicatrix of vital Christianity — Our duty to remove
obstructions to its action — What practical changes does such duty
involve ? Those affecting the spiritual life itself — Divine influence not
to be expected but in conformity with Divine principles of adminis-
tration— Study of God's character necessary to disinterested sympathy
— Recognition of the grace of the Gospel necessary to free service —
Christianity received as a master-principle necessary to the univer-
sality of religious life — Changes affecting the machinery of the
Churches — To be introduced cautiously — Buildings for public
worship — Free disputations — Gradual preparation for a more general
employment of the gift of teaching — Futiu-e amalgamation of
" interests " and denominations — Suggestions affecting the moral
influence of Churches — Maintenance by the Churches of their own
poor — Exertions for the benefit of the neighbourhood — Public spirit
in relation to men's temporal and spiritual welfare — Use of the Press
— Closing observations 403—458

ERTIATA.

Pago 27, line fi, /or "marks," read " works."

Page 73, lino G, /or "unutterable," irad "unalterable."

Page 88, line 3 from bottom, for "ingenious," read "ingenuous."

CHAPTER I.

RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW IT SHOULD BE TREATED.

CONTENTS.

GENERAL DESIGN STATED. THE TASK UNDERTAKEN NOT AGREE-
ABLE— IN THE VIEW OF SOME, NOT WISE — EVILS INCIDENT TO THE
INQUIRY— NOT CONCLUSIVE AGAINST IT — DUTY TO BE GATHERED FROM
THE DISPENSATION UNDER WHICH WE LIVE — THIS THE OBJECT OF
THE PRESENT CHAPTER — CHRISTIANITY, A LIFE — SUPPOSES ASSIMILA*
TION — THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS LIFE — GROWTH — MODE OF DIVINE
MANIFESTATION — DEMANDS SELF-ACTION OR EFFORT — EFFORT NECES-
SARY TO A SENSE OF PROPRIETORSHIP — ^OD'S ARRANGEMENTS WITH
A VIEW TO THIS LIFE — AIM AT THE INCREASE OF ITS POWER — THE
SHARPENING OF ITS SENSES — THE MULTIPLYING OF ITS MANIFESTA-
TIONS—THE CHURCH AN AGGREGATE EMBODIMENT OF THE SAME
SPIRITUAL LIFE. HENCE OUR DUTY TO IT SHOULD BE DEDUCED —
NOT TO BE PETTED INTO DELICACY— EDUCATED BY FREE UTTERANCE
OF OPINION, CORRECT AND INCORRECT— NO OCCASION FOR "THE
DOCTRINE OF RESERVE." BEARING OF THESE OBSERVATIONS ON THE
PRESENT INQUIRY — UNSOUND STATE OF THE CHURCH — EVIL OF
SILENCE ON THE SUBJECT. USELESSNESS — CONCLUSION.

CHAPTER I.

i

It is my purpose, in the following pages, to call
attention to the character of British churches, as
instruments for preserving and extending Chris-
tianity amongst the British people. With this
view, I shall attempt to convey a clear notion of
the spiritual power given them to wield, and con-
trast with it the meagre and unsatisfactory results
which by means of it they have achieved. I shall
endeavour to detect those subtle influences which,
in this country, and in these times, mingle with
the religious spirit and enervate it — to point out
those methods of practically expressing it which
cumber its action — and to survey the more im-
portant of those social obstructions which prevent
its success. With greater diffidence, but in the
hope of prompting other minds to pursue the
subject, I shall glance at some remedial measures
adapted to lessen the evils which will be brought
under notice, and shall enforce a prudent applica-

B 2

4 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

tion of them by those arguments and appeals the
persuasiveness or pungency of which have prevailed
^vith my own conscience and heart.

The region of observation over which such an
inquiry, if faithfully pursued, will necessarily lead
us, is far from attractive. The kindliest tone
cannot convert matters of lamentation into ministers
of pleasure — nor can we listen with satisfaction to
a description of our own defects or faults, even
from the lips of the tenderest and purest love. I
do not, therefore, indulge a hope of leaving upon
the mind of the reader an agreeable impression.
The task undertaken may be necessary, timely,
serviceable, — but can hardly be grateful to a
rightly constituted nature. " Comparisons are "
proverbially " odious " — and it is natural that we
should shrink from comparing what we are and do,
as the friends of Christ, with what we might be
and do, if thoroughly imbued with his spirit. The
interval between the actual and the possible which
it will be my chief business to measure and account
for, in oVder to lessen, cannot be passed over de-
liberately and wakefully, without exciting feelings
of shame and pain. My conviction of this wovdd
arrest me at starting, were the object I have in
view one terminating upon myself. But, fully
persuaded that the further progress of Christianity
as modified by the spirit of the age cannot reason-
ably be anticipated, and that religion must get

IT SHOULD BE TREATED.

clear of much that now impedes it before it can
advance to large conquests, I am willing to en-
counter some impatience, and, if it must be so, to
risk the little stock of good-will I am happy to
enjoy, in pointing the way to those changes which,
in my judgment, must precede any extensive

Rpirit.iml tvnimph in this ronnf.ry.

I am aware, too, that my undertaking will be
objected to by a graver and more trustworthy
authority than that of mere feeling. By some men
it will be looked upon as not more unpleasant than
it is unwise. They doubt the useful tendency of
any investigation which may end in weakening
their own, or others', reverence for existing reli-
gious institutions. The injury done to truth, by
awakening suspicion as to the strict propriety of
the common methods of proclaiming it, will more
than outweigh, they fear, the advantage likely to
accrue from a detection of mistakes. They hesitate
to unsettle even with a view to mend. They would
rather veil than expose weakness — and deem it
much more prudent to keep up comely appearances,
than, by proving them to be unreal, to lay open
Christianity itself to false inferences. If it be true,
they argue, that the religion of the present day is
somewhat defective, and that the pure metal is
mixed up with a much larger portion than we
could desire of base alloy, is it equally certain that
in the attempt to separate the one from the other,

6 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

you will not lose gold as well as dross '? Whilst
opening men's eyes to what is unsound in our
churches, may you not imperil the influence of those
churches altogether'? The good which they ac-
complish may not be of the liighest kind — ^but
an untimely reference to their faults might possibly
destroy their competence for even that. AVhcre we
are not sure of improving, common sense tells us
it were best not to meddle — for there is scarcely
a sphere of human action in which experience has
not proved that the mischief incident to great
changes may far outweigh the amount of good fore-
gone by permitting things to remain as they are.

Now it is admitted frankly and cheerfully that
the objection is well mounted; but it remains to
be seen whether it rides to a right conclusion. It
is true that the detection of previously lurking but
unnoticed error, the dragging it to light, and the
effort to destroy it, or, at least, to drive it from our
midst, usually, perhaps necessarily, occasion some
results which to our limited views appear un-
desirable or disastrous. It is true that transition
from a diseased to a healthier condition can rarely
be effected without an increase for the time, of
personal inconvenience and suffering, and, in
severe cases, local derangement or partial ener-
vation, of a permanent character. It is true, that
the application of every grand discovery in science
to the business of life, plucks up a system to which

IT SHOULD BE TREATED.

men's habits have accommodated themselves, snaps
not a few jEibres which ministered to its growth,
leaving them to perish in the soil in which they
are imbedded and to which they still tenaciously
cling, and, in regard to both persons and things,
bruises and shakes off much that, whilst perform-
ing appropriate functions, was necessary to its
completeness and heightened its grace. It is true,
that every revolution of kingdoms, like the hur-
ricane of the tropics, glorious and grateful as may
be the political ameliorations which it bequeaths
to after ages, is accompanied by excesses which
humanity must deplore, lets loose fiery passions
which long afterward will continue to waste and
destroy, tears to shreds with indiscriminate fury
good as well as evil, and leaves upon the nation
over which it passes indelible marks of its tre-
mendous power. And it is equally true, that
any novel direction or intenser action, of moral
force, calculated, whether suddenly or gradually,
to sweep before it deep-rooted prejudices, wide-
spread misapprehensions, ancient customs, and all
the dead and decaying matter which accumulates
about the prostrate trunks of once noble because
living forms of spiritual action, will shake faith
where it is crazy, and give a sort of excuse to
depraved tendencies, and, with the rubbish and
the impurity which it carries down to the ocean
of oblivion, will carry also some things, in their

8 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

own nature, beautifiil and true, not likely to be
cast up again upon the shore of human knowledge
and practice, until after the lapse of many ages.

Nor can any solid advantage to religion be
gained by underratmg the evils which may pos-
sibly follow the raising of that veil which partially
conceals the true character of our religious insti-
tutions and spirit, and the removal of which will
expose to the gaze of all so much to gratify
malignity on the one hand, and to shock reverent
and affectionate esteem on the other. If, m order
to future improvement, we must closely and sternly
scrutinize past and present defects, a thorough
appreciation of the hazards wliich beset our task,
will be no mean preparation for performing it with
skill. Let it be fully recognised, then,- that a rigid
examination of modern Christianity as embodied
in the churches of most, if not all denominations,
with a view to separate the true in sentiment from
the spurious, and in practice, the unmeaning and
pernicious from the reasonable and the comely,
will probably occasion incidental mischief which
thoughtful and generous minds cannot but deplore
— that it will confirm in some quarters a suspicion
that all religion is delusive, that it will favour in
others the belief that all forms for preserving and
displaying it are useless and therefore inexpedient
— that it wUl sever in some cases the only tie which
connects spiritual hopes with the conscientious use

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. if

of appointed means — that it will give an impulse
in others to a censorious and impracticable temper
— ^that it will suggest many a distressing doubt —
that it will nip and perhaps cut off many a budding
affection from which wholesome fruit might here-
after have been gathered — and that it will bring
spiritual enterprise to a temporary pause, by over-
shadowing its main pathways by a cloud of per-
plexities and misgivings — let all this be granted as
possible, nay ! likely — and it still remains an open
question whether such an examination may not be
profitably made. We are not shut up by the
admission to an acquiescence in things as they are.
We are only bound over by it to a watchful care
that we proceed to the task upon good grounds and
with heedful steps. It may be that necessity is laid
upon us. A comprehensive view of the whole case
may force upon us the conviction that freedom of
choice, in this and similar matters is not offered to
us, and that the duty of every man is determined
for him, not by a balance of opposite contingencies
in computing which we are almost sure to err, but
by the unchangeable laws of the dispensation under
which we live, and which cannot, under any pretext,
be violated with impunity.

We can hardly be wrong in concluding, that if
any such laws there be, if any clear obligation can
be deduced from the nature and objects of divine
revelation, a calm survey of them will go far to

10 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

reconcile us to the task we contemplate. It may
even serve a larger purpose than that of soothmg
ruffled temper, and breathmg courage into trem-
bling spirits. Few sources, perhaps, have poured
forth a more voluminous stream of practical evil,
than a misapprehension of the essential character-
istics of the Christian faith, and an ignorance or
forgetfulness of the conditions on which its stabihty
and growth depend. Very much of that bitterness
which is almost peculiar to theological disputes —
very many of the harsh measures which have been
dealt out to conscientious doubts, and of the modes
of expressing scorn with which it has been common
to assail every kind of mnovation, may be traced
up to defective or erroneous views of the fixed prin-
ciples on which Christ is carrying on the affairs of
his spiritual kingdom. And if it were possible for
us to reach a position from which we could take in
at a glance the sublime undertaking which it is
given him to accomplish, the various obstacles which
he will have to overcome, and the moral arrange-
ments necessary to perpetuate intelligent subjection
to his sway without encroaching upon the free
action of the human will, it is not unlikely that our
notions of duty in relation to revealed truth, and to
his church the embodiment of it, would be marvel-
lously altered, and would be carried into effect with
a much firmer, and at the same time, much more
patient, tender, and loving spirit.

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 11

I deem it prudent, therefore, because eminently
conducive to a dispassionate and impartial conduct
of the investigation before us, to submit to the
reader some considerations illustrative of what I
conceive to be the duty of Christians consequent

npnn +Ko clotoction of theoretical mistakes, or spu-
rious sentiments, or inexpedient customs in the
Church of Christ. I wish to gather, if possible
from an authoritative and unimpeachable source,
how we should bear ourselves towards the uncon-
scious frailties, the unfaithfulness, and the self-origi-
nated hindrances, which in our conviction, weaken
the moral influence of the mass of believing men
in our own country and day — to ascertain whether,
by the light of what is certain and admitted on all
hands in Christianity, we may not discover the path
of duty otherwise uncertain — and, in general, to
inquire in what aspects of practical behaviour
towards the evil which mingles with the good of our
religious institutions, a hearty sympathy with the
spiritual dispensation under which we are placed
will most consistently and naturally display itself.
The value of such an investigation preparatory to
the main object before us will, perhaps, be more
apparent as we advance, than at the present
moment. — And I devoutly trust that passing over
this threshold we shall find such associations stirred
within us, and such feelings excited, as wdll tend to
fit us mentally and morally, for an intelligent and

12 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

useful discharge of the responsibiHty which our
task imposes upon us.

The first thought that presents itself to view
calculated to aid us in our present inquiry is, that
religion, or Christianity in thn soul of man. is Life.
The remark may be trite — but on this very account
it will prove the more serviceable, as offering a
starting point about wliich there can be no dispute.
Trite it is, but not the less significant — a seeming
truism but pregnant with meaning. Life, then —
self-action as oj)posed to mere mechanism — a germ
of being to be evolved as distinguished from a form
of substance to be impressed — originated of course by
an external power, and regulated by laws inherent
in its own nature, but, in a sense which separates
it from all other forms of existence, self-contment,
mdependent, and indestructible — comprehending
the rudiments of all the tendencies, aspirations, affec-
tions, susceptibilities and powders, which can perma-
nently elevate and dignify human natui'e, and fit it to
enjoy its higher and immortal destiny — life in rela-
tion to God, to his manifestations, to his principles
of government, to his ultimate, but slowly-unfolding
designs, in a word, to the invisible, but all-pervading
soul of the Universe — life is the idea which we may
first attempt to master, in order to a correct judg-
ment of what is required of us in dealing with
whatever impedes its fair and full development.

IT SHOULD BE TREATED, 13

To the sustentation and expansion of the prin-
ciple of life, the process of assimilation seems to be
necessary. Under what laws the Creator might
have placed its continuance and growth it would be
fruitless to inquire — our business is to ascertain the
laws under which he has placed it. Nutriment of
some kind it must have — somewhat existing out of
itself, which, congenial with its own nature, may,
under certain conditions, become part of itself, or at
least, be received into and inseparably blended with
that system by means of which its action and mani-
festations are carried on. It is essential, whether
to physical or to spiritual growth, that the aliment
proper in each case, should be made our own — in
the first, by digestion — in the last, by reflection.
Food may be suitable and abundant — but that
portion of it only ministers to our life, which the
action of life itself can incorporate with our bodies.
Truth may be at hand of the highest kind, but only
so much of it as we can receive, and, if I may so
speak, absorb into our mental economy, is of use to
us. By pursuing this idea to its fair and obvious
consequences we may arrive at an elevation from
which the eye may take in the w^hole field of Chris-
tian duty with which we are seeking to become
acquainted.

The simplest notion, perhaps, which we can
conceive of religious life, is that of a sympathizing
consciousness of the spiritual Supreme — the ori-

14 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

ginal, independent, perfect Life — of whose excel-
lence, created being, in all its variety, gives but a
dim reflection ; and whom to know, to trust, to love,
must be to derived intelligence the fulfilment of its
blissful destiny. With such consciousness, no
matter to our present purpose how begotten, come
wants — yearnings to find, to possess, and to make
its own, as much of God as the faculties at its
command can comprehend — tastes to take pleasure
in what it appropriates — and powers of assimilation
to identify it with personal and individual exist-
ence. In all the works of God's hands, in all the
movements of his government, both general and
special, in Providence and in the Gospel, there is
more or less of Himself — shadowings forth of what
he is, and of what he designs — footmarks of his
attributes in some, illustrations of the ends to which
he is employing them in others — and in all together
such a display of his Infinite mind, so full an exhi-
bition of his character, so accurate an outline of his
purposes and plans, as to warrant the assertion, that
in giving us these, he has given to his intelligent
creatures all that can be communicated of himself.
And whatever there is of God in these things, appre-
hended by a sympathizing mind, is spiritual life.
We are made " partakers of the Divine nature," by
possessing ourselves of that which is divine in his
acts and truths. He who recognises God's wisdom,
has within liimself the wisdom of God, to the whole

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 15

extent of that recognition. He who sympathizes
with God's purity, has within himself the purity of
God, to the whole extent of that sympathy. The
hfe of which we speak is God in the soul up to
the measure of the soul's present capacity — and
hence our Lord speaks not figuratively but literally
when he declares "And this is life eternal, that they
might know thee the only true God, and Jesus
Christ, whom thou hast sent."

In the nature of religious life, as thus understood,
we shall find, without difiiculty, guidance to a vivid
apprehension of its growth, to foster which all
Christian institutions are maintained. More of God
made the property of the soul is the radical idea —
more of God both as it regards the breadth of our
acquaintance with him by increased knowledge,
and its intimacy by intenser sympathy. As the
bee wings its way from flower to flower, sucks
honey from each, and makes its own that subtle
element in each which, extracted, constitutes sweet-
ness, so the wakened spirit of man roams over the
vast realms of nature, hovers about the proceedings
of Providence, or lingers in the richer and more
favourite fields of the Gospel, in search of God — and
in every object upon which contemplation alights,
in every law engraven upon physical being, in every
cognisable connexion of means with ends, in every
principle of moral government, in every historical
illustration of its main bent and purpose, and.

16 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

above all, in the yet more genial, because, so far
as our apprehensions are concerned, more hearty
exemplifications of the Divine mind and will clus-
tered in the revealed word, whatever of God, what-
ever of his perfections, his character, his modes of
working, his intentions, can be discerned, is appro-
priated by the soul ; — and that which, in the truest
and highest sense, is the life of all things, is drawn
by the renewed spirit into itself, and, made its
own by knowledge and sympathy, adds to its
amount of life, and constitutes growth.

The mode in which God thus offers himself as
the " portion " of man's spirit, and the conditions
on which what of him there is in his ways and
word may be made one's own, it wiU serve us, as
another step to the point we have in view, to notice
here. His method of manifesting himself to the
mind, is, to employ the term which comes nearest
to my meaning, diffusive. He presents nothing
to us in a concentrated essence — and if he did,
we are unable to receive it in that shape. It
seems to be a law of our constitution, that truth
can only become incorporated with our souls when
put into contact with them in comparatively im-
palpable quantities, and by many and various pro-
cesses. Attention, perception, comparison, dis-
crimination, reflection, generalization — all must be
exercised in turn, in order that what is without
our minds, may be absorbed into, and become part

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 17

of them. And hence, what the Supreme Mind
would have us to know respecting himself, and
our relation and obligations to him, he has ex-
pressed, not in an orderly series of propositions,
the iiill meaning of which it would require ages
to evolve, but variously, incidentally, diffusively,
in a vast world of facts, laws, and relationships.
This earth, for instance, is an embodiment of
Infinite thought — Eternal mind made visible.
Much, however, as physical nature has to tell,
she tells nothing formally. Marvellous and heart-
stirring as are the tales she can unfold, she unfolds
them not in systematic order. Deep as may be
the impressions she has it in her power to make,
she makes them not by preceptive directions. She
is full of wisdom, but it is not didactic — of argu-
ment, but it is not methodical — of eloquence, but
it takes no artificial shape, " No voice — no lan-
guage— her speech is not heard " — and yet for
those who lovingly commune with her, she has
and she produces ample materials for the exercise
and satisfaction of every intellectual and moral
faculty with which man is endowed. She speaks
only to listeners. She writes in hieroglyphics, but
they are such as sympathizing inquiry may de-
cipher— and all the illustrations she offers of the
Great Unknown, she offers under conditions which
tend to elicit and strengthen the powers to which
they are addressed. It is precisely the same with

18 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

the word of God, as with his works. The same
inexhaustible fuhiess, the same illimitable variety,
the same absence of technical order, the same
unobtrusiveness in its method of teaching, is found
to distinguish the first equally with the last.
Moral lessons of highest import are embodied,
not in formulas but in facts — not in creeds, but
in history. There is the most exquisite order,
without any apparent system. All strikes one as
having grown up by chance, yet all results in the
completest harmony. Biography, history, poetry,
prophecy — symbol, allegory, argument, exhortation
— dry records of names, and touching effusions of
feeling — the mysterious and the palpable — the
temporal and the eternal — are thrown into a form
so inartificial, and are woven into an entire piece
with so wonderful, but so evasive a skill, as to
contrast most pointedly with all human methods
of disclosing mind to mind. In such forms of
skill and loveliness, the Eternal Soul has chosen
to enwrap itself in order to become visible to the
souls of men. The riches of knowledge lie not
upon the surface — the beauty is beauty only to the
eye of sympathy — the spirit is only to be discerned
by spirit. Throughout, there is a " hiding of
power " — a veiling of loveliness from the gaze of
the careless and profane. The oracles are de-
livered in accents audible only to a reverent
listener. The secrets are concealed from all but

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 19

such as will be at earnest pains to discover them.
Over this world of mountain and river, — of rich
champaigns and arid wilderness, of quiet glades
and desolate rocks, of softly purling streams and
roaring cataracts, of sunshine and of storms, of
light and darkness, man's mind may wander almost
ceaselessly, and miss altogether the deep signifi-
cance of what it sees. And to the indolent and un-
reflective, it may prove scarcely more instructive
than a wearisome tale of regions they have never
seen, and of acts in which they feel no interest.

This mode of imparting himself to the soul of
man, and of giving fulness and vigour to spiritual
life, imposes upon that life the necessity of constant
self-action — of continuous and persevering effort
from within. Here, as elsewhere, the sentence is
operative, " In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou
eat bread." He who would gaze upon the beauty
must first be at the pains to raise the veil. He
who would transfer to his own mind the Divine
thought, must acquire the language in which it is
written — must master the symbols in which it is
expressed. Life in the spirit can only appropriate
to itself life in the works, and ways, and word of
God, can only mingle and identify itself with that
in them which is essentially divine, by penetrating
by an active exertion of its own powers the exterior
and palpable forms in which it is enshrined. In
our present state, spirit looks not upon spirit but

c 2

20 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

through an intervenmg medium — and to pass
through that medium, in order to communion,
man's soul must gird itself for continual effort.
" Truth," says Dr. South, in one of his sermons, " is
a great stronghold, barred and fortified by God
and Nature ; and diligence is properly the under-
standing's laying siege to it : so that, as in a kind
of warfare, it must be perpetually upon the watch,
observing all the avenues and passes to it, and
accordingly makes its approaches. Sometimes it
thinks it gains a point, and presently again it finds
itself baffled and beaten off; yet still it renews the
onset, attacks the difficulty afresh, plants this
reasoning, and that argument, this consequence,
and that distinction, like so many intellectual bat-
teries, till at length it forces a way and passage
into the obstinate enclosed truth that so long
withstood and defied all its assaults. The Jesuits
have a saying common amongst them, touching the
instruction of youth (in which their chief strength
and talent lies), that vexatio dat intellectum. As
when the mind casts and turns itself restlessly
from one thing to another, strains this j)ower of
the soul to apprehend, that to judge, another to
divide, a fourth to remember — thus tracing out the
nice and scarce observable difference in some
things, and the real agreement of others, till at
length it brings all the ends of a long and various
hypothesis together, sees how one part coheres

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 21

with and depends upon another, and so clears off
all the appearing contrarieties and contradictions
that seemed to lie cross and uncouth, and to make
the whole unmtelligible — this is the laborious and
vexatious inquest that the soul must make after
science. For Truth, like a stately dame, will not
be seen nor show herself, at the first visit, nor
match with the understanding upon an ordinary
courtship or address. Long and tedious attendances
must be given, and the hardest fatigue endured
and digested ; nor did ever the most pregnant wit
in the world bring forth anything great, lasting,
and considerable, without some pain and travail,
some pangs and throes before the delivery. Now
all this that I have said," continues the doctor, " is
to show the force of diligence in the investigation
of truth, and particularly of the noblest of all
truths, which is that of religion."

This effort, this " diligence," as Dr. South terms
it, this self-action of the spiritual life, in order to
put itself in contact and mingle wdth, and so
possess, that of God which he embodies in his
works and word, appears to be inseparably asso-
ciated with the consciousness and enjoyment of the
feelings of proprietorship. It seems to be a law of
our nature that those acquisitions only can be held
and valued as our oivn, which have been made so
by a force exerted from within us — and that just
in proportion to the intensity of that force, does

22 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

the knowledge gained become welded with our
souls. In the material universe, which is his
handiwork, in the proceedings of that Providential
government which he directs and controls, and in
the discoveries he has made of himself in the
revealed volume, God has placed within reach of
finite mmds as much of himself as their powers will
ever be able to comprehend— but he is our God, at
least so far as our consciousness is concerned, only
as the action of the life within upon the rich and
varied ores of divinity without, fuses the knowledge
of him into our own being. To elicit, therefore, this
self-action, to nourish it, to increase both its spon-
taneity and its vigour, is, in effect, to amplify the
absorbing and assimilating capabilities of the living
spirit, and to qualify the creatm^e for taking into
its own individuality of system, and identifying
with its own nature, more and more of the all-
glorious Creator.

Such, in my view, and I do not apprehend any
serious difference of judgment in this matter, is
spiritual life— or as the old divines have accurately
and beautifully phrased it, " the life of God in the
soul of man." What is its origin can hardly be
questioned by any who agree that this is its nature,
AVhat constitutes its simple essence — the primary
substratum to which its attributes belong — it is as
impossible to ascertain, as it is to determine what
is the essence of physical life. We know nothing

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 28

of it but by its functions — and these, being rever-
ently and closely questioned, inform us that the life
of which we speak is one, however begotten, whose
object and office it is, by the unceasing effort of its
own energies, to extract the elements of Deity
diffused through, and embodied in, all the materials
of human knowledge — to make them "part and
parcel " of itself, and by participation to be an ever
enlarging embodiment, by finite spuits, of the
thoughts and the propensions, of the character
and the counsels, of the Infinite and the Invi-
sible. It will greatly forward us to the conclusions
of which we are in search, to notice the main
principles which characterise the whole of God's
proceedings and arrangements with a view to train
up this spiritual life, to strengthen and develop its
powers and susceptibilities, and to educate it for
its immortal destiny. Looked at broadly, the
conduct of God in reference to the cultivation of
religious vitality, is directed to the furtherance of
the following ends — to augment its power, to
sharpen its senses, and to multiply its manifes-
tations and enjoyments — or in other words, to
make more of it, to make it more perfect, and to
make it more easily and spontaneously exemplify
itself — to elicit and mature what is in it, by its sell-
action upon whatever is homogeneous without it,
in respect of, first, its sympathies — then, its percep-
tions— lastly, its expressions.

24 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

That it is no mean feature of the Divine purpose
in his moral government of man, to increase the
power of this spiritual life, we have countless and
various reasons for believing. Its own instinctive
and insuppressible yearnings which nothing can
appease but a participation " of the Divme nature "
— the exuberant and inexhaustible j)rovision God
has made to satisfy them — the wondrous and bene-
ficent skill he has displayed in veiling himself by
his works, and word, in such manner as to allow to
the quickened spirit such glimpses of his beauty
and of " the hidings of his power," as may give a
keener edge to its thu'st for him, and stimulate
into intenser activity those energies by the force of
which alone he can be possessed and appropriated
— the gradual withdrawal of intervening obstruc-
tions between him and the soul, and consequent
dispersion of the clouds in which his glory is
enwrapped, at the earnest solicitation, and busy
but reverent prying, and laborious and persevering
and importunate suit, of the sympathizing heart in
search of him — the diversified modes in which he
images himself to affectionate contemplation, now
awing, yet not overpowering, the reason by the
exhibitions of his majesty, then charming it into
silent and musing admiration by the resources and
contrivances of his wisdom, sometimes snatching
it up heavenwards as in a chariot of glowing
aspirations, and then again descending to the

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 25

level of our lowliness, and expressing himself woo-
ingly to our thrilled hearts in the soft whisper
of humanity — the trials he has appointed and
measured for us, whereby our spiritual self-action
is resisted, and forced to gather itself up for more
concentrated effort, and to strain itself to its utmost
in order to the removal of the temporary impedi-
ment—the powerful and inexplicable influence of
mind upon mind, so that wherever they come in
contact, each to the extent of what is common to
both, enlarges itself by union with the other — these
are but few of the general exemplifications, every
one of them, however, comprehending an immense
variety of particulars, showing the importance, as
estimated by the Father of spirits, attaching to the
exercise of spiritual life, in order to the evolution
and growth of its power. All the arrangements,
all the mutual dependencies and influences, of
things and events, seem to have been ordered by
Divine Wisdom, with a view to call out into activity,
and invigorate and expand by exertion, and nourish
by progressive communications, the vital principle
which assimilates to itself the manifested mind of
God. And as in the physical economy, so here, the
principle evolves its powers by exertion. The germ
expands, as the result of the action of its own life
upon surrounding and kindred materials. All that
is peculiar to it thus develops itself. Every effort
it makes, is a pressure from its own centre upon

26 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

the limits by which it is encircled. Every move-
ment fi'om within does something to widen the
range of its acquaintance and sympathy with what
I would term Godhood without. Thus, each
spiritual being, each intelligence into which has
been breathed the breath of spiritual life, finds
itself placed in a world of existences, laws, rela-
tionships, facts, proceedings, and displays, exterior
to itself, all of which have been so disposed by the
Supreme Governor, as to necessitate the action, and
minister to the growth, of the powers with which
it is endowed.

Let us next take a cursory glance at the mode in
which God's plan of administration efi'ects the edu-
cation of this life — the sharpening of its senses —
the refinement of its tastes — the gradual ripening
of its capacity to discriminate — the training up of
its judgment from the feebleness and helplessness of
infancy, to the robust and unwavering decision of
full manhood. What is it we see 1 To the eye of
a novice, all is chaos — truth and error intermingled
— good and evil — wholesome nutriment for the soul,
and virulent poison. And it is worthy of remark
that oftentimes underneath the broad, outspreading,
and attractive leaves of what is noxious to the reli-
gious life, grow hidden, and till diligently searched
for, unseen, modest verities of rare virtue in sustain-
ing or reviving it — and that in the immediate
neighbourhood of what is most precious we may

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 27

commonly look with certainty for what is most vile.
Nothing in this apparent jumble of contrarieties is
labelled. It is only to experience that external
form, colour, or texture, are indicative of the
internal qualities which they enclose. That which
marks mischief is not seldom superficially tempting
— that which imparts strength, repulsive. And
with what at first sight presents itself as an inde-
scribable confusion, there is no subsequent arbitrary
meddling. The root which, just turned up from the
earth, is about to parch up the entrails of him
seeking sustenance from it, is not plucked from his
fatal grasp by a hand from heaven. The path into
which the traveller turns in his pursuit of hap-
piness, and which leads to death, is not barred
across by insuperable obstacles, nor are its dangers
advertised by large-lettered cautions along the road.
Many a sentiment has been nursed in the bosom of
the Church with more than a mother's fondness,
which when full grown has turned out an impla-
cable foe to her peace. Into this world of differing
and even conflicting elements, where what is true
and divine is mingled Avith so many false principles,
erroneous standards of judgment, deleterious senti-
ments, vicious and corrupt imaginations, the soul is
bidden to go forth in search of spiritual aliment.
But although God has not written upon the surface
of things, a description of the nature and uses of
each, but has devolved upon the spiritual life itself

28 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AJND HOW

the duty of discrimination, he has not left it without
sufficient guidance. It starts in its career, with
vmerring instincts and sensitive sympathies w^hich
when allowed uninterrupted play, can distinguish
in broad and simple cases between the precious and
the vile. These are rendered more acute by culti-
vation— and when promptly obeyed, and consci-
entiously trained, impart a power of moral insight
which it is difficult to deceive even by the most
specious appearances. Experience gradually follows
to correct the mistakes inseparable from first
impressions — and each spiritual sense does its part
in modifying and rendering more exact the con-
clusions di-awn from the testimony of the others.
Like, as in the natural world, all things appear to
the eye of infancy in immediate contact with the
visual organ, and neither distance nor form are indi-
cated by the disposition of light and shade, until
after touch has combined its perceptions with those
of sight, so here, a full and accurate acquaintance
with the true must be the united result of many
spiritual exercises — a spontaneous generalization of
the repeated depositions of all. To multiply illus-
trations, however, although easy to the writer, might
be wearisome to the reader, and, perhaps, super-
fluous. The point upon which it is desired to fix
attention is, that expertness to " distinguish things
that differ," is made conditional by the arrange-
ments of Supreme Wisdom, chiefly upon the proper

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 29

use of those powers with which spiritual life is en-
dowed. The rules of guidance are to be sought, not
in the first utterances of the objects without us, but
in the monitions of the life within us. Not so much
to impart instruction, which supposes the trans-
mission of knowledge from the object to the
subject, as to nourish intuition, which implies the
extraction of knowledge by the subject from the
object, are outward things arranged in relation to
the religious life. The character of the climate is
not ordered with a view to the constitution, but the
constitution braced with a view to the climate.
How we are environed seems to be a secondary
matter in the Divine judgment, the most elaborate
care being bestowed upon what we possess within
us. Our Lord prayed for his disciples " not that
they might be taken out of the world, but that they
might be kept from the evil thereof" There is a
close analogy in this respect between God's pro-
ceedings and our own. Observation and experience
may have convinced us, how much nobler, and in
the main, how much more successful is the effort, to
fit the child for his sphere, than to construct a
sphere for the child — to train him so that he may
go anywhere, rather than to find or make a some-
where into which he may safely go. In short, if we
are wise in our educational plans, we shall evince
our anxiety very little in shaping exterior circum-
stances, and very mainly in inducing and strength-

30 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

ening inward qualities and character. A well-
cultivated heart is a better safeguard against evil
than the best regulated cloister, and as solitude may
be more oppressively realized in crowded cities than
in unpeopled wildernesses, so the divine life may be
fuller of all that makes it what it is, in the presence
of many forms of evil than in their studied conceal-
ment. " To the pure all things are pure."

" He that can apprehend," says John Milton, in
his speech for the liberty of unlicensed printing—
" He that can apprehend and consider vice, with all
her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain,
and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that w^hich is
truly better, he is the true warfaring Christian. I
cannot," he continues, " praise a fugitive and clois-
tered virtue, unexercised, and unbreathed, that
never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks
out of the race, where that immortal garland is to
be run for, not -without dust and heat. Assuredly,
we bring not innocence into the world, we bring
impurity much rather ; that which purifies us is
trial, and trial is by what is contrary. That virtue
therefore, which is but a youngling in the contem-
plation of evil, and knows not the utmost that vice
promises to her followers, is but a blank virtue, not
a pure : her whiteness is but an excremental white-
ness; which was the reason why our sage and
serious poet Spenser (whom I dare be known to
think a better teacher than Scotus or Aquinas), de-

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 31

scribing due temperance under the person of Guion,
brings him in with his palmer through the cave of
Mammon, and the bower of earthly bliss, that he
might see, and know, and yet abstain."

There is one other feature of God's administration
as it regards the vital principle now the subject of
our remarks, a reference to which may aid us in our
subsequent conclusions. We have glanced at the
provision he has made for evolving and educating it
— we have yet to consider what he has done to
ensure its expression of itself. To the least
thoughtful, I imagine, the fact will often have pre-
sented itself with no little force, that the instinct
for self-propagation is as strong and as universally
operative in the sphere of morals and religion, as in
that of physics. Into whatever department we go,
we carry with us a restless desire to make others
participate in our thoughts and feelings, and espe-
cially to meet and mingle mth other minds on that
spot which is dearest to the associations of our
own. It suffices not to oui" perfect happmess that
we ourselves give back in sparkling reflection the
light which beams upon us from the dazzling orb
of day — but we give it back with more satisfaction
to ourselves, and, as we think, more honour him,
when we can do so in company with myriads
equally apt to catch and to reflect his glory. With
every truth which we acquire, we acquire also
propensions to communicate it. The life which

32 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

yearns to possess yearns also to impart — and the
more of God we have, the more we are impelled
to give. Nor are we thus disposed by impulse
merely. Lively consciousness of duty adds to the
force of spontaneous desire. Long before logic
can conduct us to the conclusion, intuition has
leapt upon it, that we are under obligation to
make our convictions the joint property of our
fellows. Without needing to wait the issue of
any analysis of our responsibilities, we feel that our
apprehension of truth is a kmd of trusteeship for
those who have it not — and if other and grosser
influences prevail with us to keep our light under
a bushel, or hide our talent in a napkin, no
sophistry can wholly destroy the sense we have
that we are guilty of a social wrong, and that we
are defrauding others of that which is their due.
It appears obvious, moreover, that God's providence
has so cast our relationships, as to give free scope
for the action of this instinct of the religious life.
Mutual dependence invites to it. Self-preservation
prompts it. General curiosity, or love of the new,
solicits it. Compassion urges it to its mission.
Hope stimulates it. The pleasures of success
minister to its strength. The realization of God's
plan is suspended upon its exercise. For let it be
remembered, that minds exist but for the percep-
tion and enjoyment of truth — and that minds now
wandering in the mazes of error, are recoverable

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 33

to more than their original inheritance by the
promulgation of truth. Here, then, is an inex-
tinguishable propension — and here is a vast field
for its exercise. And this duty, written by the
finger of God upon our nature, to contribute all
that we have discerned of him to the common
stock of the human family, agrees well, as might
have been anticipated, with his obvious design, to
render, at some time, the knowledge of him
complete. Of what public use is it that this man
is appointed to look on what is revealed from this
position, that from an opposite one, and every one
from a point upon which he stands alone, and why
was it not ordered that all things should present to
all the same appearance, the same outline, the same
disposition of lights and shadows, the same colour,
distance, proportion, texture, unless it were meant
that free intercommunication should be kept up by
all, and the countless varieties of spiritual appre-
hension blend at last in one harmonious centre?
To quote again the language of our illustrious bard,
whose Christian philosophy, like his poetry, was of
the sublimest order — " Truth, indeed, came once
into the world with her divine Master, and was a
perfect shape, most glorious to look on : but when
he ascended, and his Apostles after him were laid
asleep, then straight arose a wicked race of de-
ceivers, who, as that story goes of the Egyptian
Typhon with his conspirators, how they dealt with

34 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

the good Osiris, took the virgin Truth, hewed her
lovely form into a thousand pieces, and scattered
them to the four winds. From that time ever
since, the sad friends of Truth, such as durst appear,
imitating the careful search that Isis made for
the mangled body of Osiris, went up and down
gathering up limb by limb still as they could find
them. We have not yet found them all, nor ever
shall do till her Master's second coming : he shall
bring together every joint and member, and shall
mould them into an immortal feature of loveliness
and perfection." Meanwhile, it is plainly com-
mitted unto us by the divine dispensation, to do
each his part, in this pious restoration. For that
life of which we speak recruits its ow^n energies by
expending them upon others — enlarges itself by
just so much as it gives — and, like a merchant
who has prudently ventured large capital to the
advantage of many, receives back from every
outlay, not the principal merely, but all the accruing
profits. So true is it, that the liberal soul shall be
made fat, and he that watereth shall be watered
also himself.

I have thus run over, as hastily as the important
bearings of the subject upon our future observa-
tions would allow, the nature of spiritual life, indi-
vidually considered, and the general principles
which characterise God's method of dealing with it.
The Church of Christ is the aggregate and orga-

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 35

nized embodiment of it — and as a whole, exhibits
the same qualities, is subject to the same general
laws, and is bound by the same class of duties, as
its component parts. To absorb, to assimilate, and
to display Godhood, is the object of its existence.
That it may be more and more fitted for this its
glorious mission, seems to constitute the purpose of
divine Providence with regard to it. Accordingly,
its history is but another and higher type of the
history of personal religious life. The sphere of its
movements has been so laid out as to elicit and
nourish, to educate and prompt the expression of,
the largest amount possible of self-action. Its
health and growth are indissolubly connected with
effort. It is surrounded by good and evil, the
knowledge and discrimination of which are left to
its own sympathies, perfected by exjoerience. And
it is endowed with instincts, and is the subject of a
sense of obligation, impelling it to impart to the
destitute whatever itself possesses of God. It is
not a piece of mechanism whereof all the parts
must be fashioned by extraneous regulation, but a
life which must outwardly shape itself in accord-
ance with the laws of its own being. Institutions,
rules, habits, associations, are of use only as they
induce spiritual vitality to unfold. The self-acting
evolution of the quickened soul — the beautiful
efilorescence of a new principle of moral existence
— the manifestation to broad daylight of hidden

D 2

36 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

elements — the ripening into strength and perfection
of powers yet undeveloped — this is the single end
of all. All are exclusively intended and adapted to
accomplish this. The spirit of the Church by
means of them, imbibes such nouiishment as best
harmonizes with its own nature, assimilates it,
buds, uncurls, puts out itself according to the laws
of its own being, and becomes a splendid illustration
of the Infinite and Eternal Mind, in which alone is
to be found the original type of its existence.

We have now, by leisurely, but, I think, sure
advances, attained a position from which may be
commanded a clear view of the entire field of duty
with which we are anxious to become acquainted.
From the point at which we have arrived, the eye
may take in all the main principles which should
guide us in our treatment of Christ's Church,
supposed to be wantmg, in some respects, to its
own high and honourable destiny. Whether an
enlightened interest in its welfare should induce us
to wink at its errors, or bring them out into the light
— to search out its weaknesses, or to conceal them
— to expose its mistakes, or to hush them up in
timidity — to rebuke its unfaithfulness, or to ignore
it — to offer it our freest thoughts, or to imprison
them in our own minds — we believe may be now
determined with some confidence, quite irrespec-
tively of immediate consequences, which, indeed,

IT SHOULD BE TREATED, 37

are the most untrustworthy guides of practical
duty, because utterly incapable of being accurately
foreseen. We cannot go far wide of the mind of
Christ, whilst acting up to the spirit of the admo-
nition— " He that saith he abideth in him ought
himself also so to walk even as he walked." — Nor
surely can " that which is born of God " behave
unworthily of its high birth, whilst carrying itself
towards the Church in strict conformity with those
general principles which mark and pervade the
whole system of God's dispensations towards it.

Guided, then, by the preceding observations, I
think no man is warranted in holding back views,
regarded by himself as greatly concerning the
future welfare of the Church, merely in consequence
of the stir which they might create, or of the vast
changes, or the laborious and unremitting effort,
which their realization would involve. There is
a peace for which every Christian will sigh from
sympathy, but it is not that of external and cir-
cumstantial quiescence. Rest, it is true, is sweet —
but it is only sweet in alternation with toil. Were
all duties unassociated with difficulties, self-action
would soon become lethargic. In a world crammed
full of errors, many of them morally pernicious to
a most deplorable extent — in which conventional
falsehoods pass current in all circles — the greater
proportion of whose inhabitants are industriously
practising delusion upon themselves and others —

38 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

where hypocrisy of some sort is as common, and
as various too, as masked faces at a carnival — and
where all, with an extremely insignificant excep-
tion, are pursuing self under some guise of virtue,
— it is impossible to speak of " things as they are,"
to estimate them at their proper value, to thrust
at error because it is error, and to treat sin as sin
wherever it may be met with, without exciting a
sensation of tingling which even the Church is
apt to resent. Every detection of evil elements
in what has been commonly received, and that,
it may be, for successive ages, as unquestionably
pure, is felt to reflect upon honoured predecessors,
as well as upon justly revered contemporaries, as
wanting in that moral sensitiveness which is in-
stinctively cognizant of a present wrong. Every
projected reform is taken to be an oblique censure
of the greater minds, and, perhaps, the holier
spirits, to which the need of it never seems to
have occurred. All changes are, to some extent,
troublesome to settled habits, and require the set-
ting aside as obsolete or inefficient, some machinery
which we have been accustomed to handle. En-
terprise would cease to be enterprise, if it did not
necessarily involve the winding up anew of our
resolution, in order to cope with a new class of
difficulties. But in every one of the supposed
cases, he who breaks in upon the routine of the
Church, whether in regard to its belief, its senti-

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 39

ments, its institutions, or its practices, does but
stimulate its dormant energies, and call it out to
unwonted effort. And, as in regard to temporal
things " the life is more than the meat, and the
body than the raiment," so in regard to spiritual
things, vitality, wakefulness, feeling, activity, are
infinitely superior to the forms in which Christian
profession, or even Christian principle, may clothe
itself, and become visible to the world. They who
trouble Israel are not always its worst foes — not
always foes in any sense. To be driven back upon
first principles — to be forced to undertake fresh and
more searching examinations — to be put upon the
defensive, where anxiety, restlessness, and, per-
chance, peril, must be an unwelcome exchange
for ease, quietude, and security — to witness the
perishing of many a gourd beneath whose grateful
shadow protection from the noontide sun has been
heretofore enjoyed — to be constrained to gather
up its whole strength and wrestle a throw with
what it judges to be a formidable opponent — is
not in itself a calamity to the Church, and may
prove an unlooked-for blessing. It is thus that
oftentimes God has roused her from her listlessness,
and made her conscious of her own unconquerable
power. It is thus that " the wrath of man " has
been made to praise him, and the storms of
adversity that have overtaken the Church have
borne her onward towards the haven of an un-

40 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

anticipated success. No man, it is true, is justified
in aiming a blow at her peace, on the strength of
the assurance that " no weapon formed against her
shall prosper." Crying is said to be a most salutary
exercise for infants, but no parent believing the
fact woidd deliberately aim to make his infant cry.
But then, just as a sensible mother would feel no
hesitation in doing aught that might, in her judg-
ment, contribute to her child's welfare, because
the doing of it will be sure to provoke screams,
and just as she, whilst eliciting the shrill protest
in which her heart can take no pleasure, would
comfort herself with the assurance that good rather
than harm will come of it — so, no enlightened
Christian should refrain from urging views upon
the Church, the adoption of which, he believes,
will conduce to her well-being and efficiency, in
consequence of the agitation to which they may
give rise ; and, in support of his own courage under
events likely to try it, and in justification of his
proceedings, which may possibly raise a hubbub,
he may properly take to him all the solace aff'orded
by the conviction that the pressure which those
views have brought to bear upon her energies,
and the rebound which has followed, whatever
immediate inconvenience they involve, are among
God's appointed methods of increasing her self-
action, and of deepening, enlarging, and developing
all her vital powers.

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 41

Indeed, I have no great sympathy with those
who seem to fear that the religious life of the
Church of Christ — what of God there is in it — is
so essentially feeble as to be put in peril by any-
thing which might reveal to it how much which it
has ignorantly or negligently taken to be divine,
is really human in its origin and evil in its influence.
I cannot believe, without surrendering all my trust
in analogies, that a searching examination into its
own state, and an honest effort to see everything
pertaining to its own health, and action, and habits,
in the light in which it presents itself to the
All-pure eye, can be permanently injurious to the
Church. I have a deeper faith in the reactive
energies of real godliness than will allow me to
suspect, even for a moment, that the morbid parts
of that frame in which it resides cannot be touched
by a firm hand with a view to cure, without super-
inducing convulsions exhaustive of vitality. The
body of which Christ is the Head, w^as never
meant to be nursed and petted into that extreme
delicacy, as to need being curtained in from all the
airs which might possibly blow upon her. Hers is
a constitution which will best thrive, and become
most robust, when most in contact with that atmo-
sphere to which the wisdom of God has evidently
adapted it. Let free thoughts visit her — free utter-
ances disarrange the primness of her attire — let her
taste the freshness of honest opinion, and feel the

42 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

force of faithful reproof, and face even the chill of
unfriendly criticism, and, in reference to all, learn
to say with the duke in exile,

" The seasons' difference — as, the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which when it bites and blows iipon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say.
This is no flattery, — these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am,"

and she will be all the more likely to nourish that
vigour, and attain that bloom and beauty of
health, which will at once fit her for active ex-
ertion, and enhance the purity and lustre of her
charms.

The next practical deduction wliich appears to
me to result from the foregoing train of remark, is
of still greater importance, but it will be accepted,
perhaps, with far less cordial trust. It is this. That
our duty to make our settled convictions the pro-
perty of the Church, or at least to offer them to her
with all the recommendations which won for them a
place in our faith and affections, does not depend
upon their truth, or upon their agreement in fact
with the mind of God. If true according to our
apprehension, if received by us as a portion of the
counsel of the Highest, we are as stringently obliged
to communicate them to our fellows, to contribute
them to the common stock of knowledge, as if they
were in reaUty, what to us they are in appearance.
The acknowledged and notorious fallibility of

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 43

human judgment, especially in all that relates to the
spiritual world, might else palsy our sense of obli-
gation to make others the sharers of our light, and
to give to the Church of Christ the fruits of our
intellectual and religious travail. Let me not be
imagined, for a moment, to hold him absolved from
all guilt in the sight of God, who broaches an
unsound doctrine, or a pernicious sentiment, satis-
factory as may be his own conviction that it is in
harmony with the Divine idea. On the contrary, I
believe that there can be no such thing as an
acquiescent response to error, save by spiritual
sympathies more or less depraved. It matters little
to this conclusion, what is the original source of the
mistake — whether an undue trust in the force of
human intellect, or a looking at what is true in
itself through the colouring atmosphere of some
warm passion, or an exaggeration of a spiritual
instinct into more than its relative proportion — the
conclusion still remains, that the mistaken, or
discoloui'ed, or disproportionate views which a man
may have of divine things, are not to be attributed
to the mode of their manifestation, but to the
previous injury done to his own religious sense.
But whilst fully alive to our responsibiUty before
God for the truth or untruth of our convictions, and
whilst deeply sensible of the weight of the charge
laid upon us, to cultivate with sedulous care our
spiritual sympathies, because in their health we

44 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

possess the best safeguard from delusion, I contend
that where truth is believed to have been ascer-
tamed, and the judgment has been satisfied that it
is what it seems to be, there remains no interval
within which fear of consequences can properly
plant its foot, and forbid the utterance of that
conviction to the world.

And in relation to this fear of consequences, the
motive with so many in deprecating a frank and
unreserved utterance of opinion, let me be per-
mitted to point attention to some of those con-
siderations which wise men should take into
account, whenever, anticipating the influence likely
to be exerted upon the Church by \iews which
they deem, after mature and conscientious exami-
nation, to be erroneous, they are disposed to check
the free circulation of thought by severity. There
should be, in the first place, a lively consciousness
of the possibility of being themselves under a
mistake, if not in regard to the sentiments they
hold, at least in regard to the relation of those
sentiments to those which they condemn. It may
be, that what appears at the instant to be
discordant with the verities upon which they have
reposed their faith, does so in consequence solely of
their imperfection of religious culture, and that to
higher and more refined tastes, the seeming discord
is the perfection of harmony. It may be, that the
repudiated doctrine is but the other side of a truth

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 45

which themselves have recognised, and that what in
it appears false to their apprehension, is in reality
to be set down to the position from which they are
accustomed to view it. It may be, that the
supposed heresy is not, when duly scrutinized, an
embodiment of a wrong object of faith viewed
abstractedly, but an awkward or distorted exhi-
bition of what is in itself true. It may be, that
even when really, in the main, a delusion, it is one
serving to lead the way to some neglected region of
thought, or to warn an uninquiring, and perhaps
apathetic church, of some swamps of corruption
which have been suffered to do their deadly work
unheeded. It may be, that it is destined to disclose
or to destroy something more noxious than itself,
and, like a poison, to counteract and to expel
an insidious disease. Whilst holding fast to the
essential distinction between truth and error, and
cherishing, with anxious care, a sense of individual
responsibility in regard to our perception of it,
there are many considerations, I think, which might
produce upon observing minds the conviction, that
the very mistakes of men, in respect of religious
truth, have, under the superintendence of the
All-wise Mind, an office to fulfil, and that whatever
mischief they inflict as a judgment upon careless-
ness, insubordination, or pride, they act upon the
life of the Church beneficially in the main. It may,
therefore, well be matter of doubt, taking a broad

46 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

and comprehensive view of things, whether by any
hne of conduct calculated to check the frankest
utterance of opinion, either on our own part, or
on the part of others, we are best consulting the
ultimate welfare of the Church. That the provi-
dence of God has turned upon no such principle,
the history of the Church abundantly testifies.
The Divine arrangements might easily have secured,
if such a thing had been consistent with the plan of
Supreme Wisdom, the stifling of every religious
error in its birth. But it is quite evident that they
were never framed with a view to any such result.
Real and reputed heresies have been allowed fidl
scope to do whatever it was in them to do. And
along mth the direct and immediate mischief which
they caused, they have been overruled to greater,
and more lasting, although indirect, good. To
many a Christian community in the days of Paul,
the appearance of Judaism in the very bosom of
the Chiu'ch, disturbing her peace, drawing bounds
about her freedom, and impeding her usefulness,
must have been a grievous mischief, about the
permission of which by her divine Master per-
plexing thoughts would harass simple minds, and
many a timid but unexercised believer in the " law
of liberty " may have sighed for some display of
power to smother the heresy before it should mature
its strength — and yet to its rise, activity, and
partial success, we owe most of those apostolic

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 47

writings which have been to all subsequent ages
a perennial source of spiritual enlightenment. Or
take an illustration from modern times. When,
towards the close of the last century, infidelity,
gendered and nourished in secret by the corrup-
tions of nominal Christianity, started with terrible
energy upon its crusade against revelation, and
plied against it wit, argument, and philosophy,
poetry and learnmg, subtle disquisition, deep re-
search, and even civil power, it was but like a
tornado in the natural world. Doubtless, the
temporary desolation it inflicted was sufficiently
mournful, and the prostration before it of many
a towering intellect, like the crash of noble trees
under the mad whirl of the elements, attested its
awful power, and still awakens tearful reflections
— but we have reason to rejoice in the more
permanent results of its ftiry. Over and above
the successful zeal, industry, and ability, which it
evoked in behalf of the truth, and which ran-
sacked all history for solid materials of defence,
it is becoming every day more strikingly evident,
that it dispersed the poisonous miasma which
had previously crept over and settled upon the
surface of religious society, and that since the
passing away of that tremendous outburst, the
atmosphere has been sensibly fresher, the pulse
of the Church livelier, and her spirits more
buoyant, than for a long time before. No man,

48 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

then, it is plain, judging from proximate like-
lihoods, or even from immediate results, is com-
petent to decide that his own convictions, or those
of others, may be beneficially withholden from the
Church of Christ. Possible as we should regard
it, in any case, that after all our pains the views
we hold may be at best but incomplete or distorted
images of the truth, we cannot justly conclude
that the exhibition of these will not serve some
useful purpose. For our own sakes, care, diligence,
conscientiousness, self-distrust, prayerfulness, are
requisite in every stage of that process which
terminates in belief. But in the open avowal of
our belief, and the grounds of it, religious society
has an interest — and the functions of its spii'itual
Ufe may be, one way or another, assisted by our
free utterance of thought, whether the conclusion
at which we have arrived be right or wrong.

Lastly, if what has been already laid down is
correct, we may fairly deduce from it this practical
conclusion, that however uncertain we may be as
to the mode in which the expression of our con-
victions may ultimately work, the general rule of
duty by which we are to be guided is explicit
enough. " I believed, therefore have I spoken —
we also believe, and therefore speak," shortly but
emphatically lays down for us the only known
law of obligation in this matter. Where faith
leads the way, utterance is bound to follow. No

IT SHOULD BE TREATED, 49

room is left for prudence to step in between the
one and the other, or to " put asunder what God
has joined together." This is not, I fear, universally
admitted even by Christian men. Whp has not
heard, in the course of an ordinary lifetime,
expressions of regret, tinged, too, occasionally with
a show of resentment, at the publication of opinons
which, even if true, are thought to be ahead of
the sentiments of the age ? The " doctrine of
reserve " in religious matters is held by not a
few besides the followers of Dr. Pusey. Our
Lord's example is pleaded in support of it; and
Paul's reproof of the Corinthians, " I have fed
you with milk, anci not with meat; for hitherto
ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are
ye able," has been thought to present us with an
actual adoption of it. I need scarcely detain the
reader to point out to him the utter irrelevancy
of both the example and the language to the
point under notice — the first exhibiting nothing
more than the natural and necessary precedence
which the gospel facts had of gospel teaching, and
the other proclaiming what every one must feel,
that in the clash and tumult of sectarian strife,
the higher and more spiritual truths of revelation
have small chance of a meet hearing. The real
question for decision is, whether any man is justified
in withholding his convictions from the Church at
large, by an impression that it is not sufiiciently

50 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

advanced to receive them. Several thoughts concur
in compelling my judgment to answer to this ques-
tion in the negative.

New, startling, and, using an hackneyed term, but
not in a hackneyed sense, revolutionary, as may be
a man's settled views of religious truth, any pre-
sumption on his part, not suggested by foregoing
experience, that they are too large for apprehension
by other and kindred minds, betokens more of
vanity than of caution. Such an individual might
very properly ask himself, in what peculiar attribute
of mind his own prehensile power consists, that he
should be capable of grasping and appropriating
ideas which others could not receive at all, or could
lay hold of only to their o^vn injury. That which he
has mastered, common modesty might teach him to
look upon as capable, when communicated, of being
apprehended by others. If so far in advance of
the age as to be unprofitable or pernicious to those
living in it, does it not seem wonderful that Divine
Providence, which does nothing in vain, should
have permitted the discovery of truth at so unsea-
sonable a time, that it must needs be kept a secret
prisoner in an individual bosom, and pass back
again into the unknown, at that individual's death ?
Besides, have we not examples more than sufficient,
of the certainty with which that light which first
illuminated only the mountain peaks of society,
serving at the time to waken in the vales below no

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 51

other feeling than that of wonder, or, perhaps,
bewilderment, has gradually advanced and diffused
itself, penetrating in due season the deepest recesses,
and converting vacant surprise or superstitious
terror into hope, confidence, and gladness 1 That
such and such thoughts have anywhere in the
realm of human mind established for themselves a
footing, is a plain intimation that the time for pro-
claiming them is come — that their work in our
world is assigned them, and that they have actually
commenced it. Why, there is not a hedge-flower
in creation which has not a seed within it for the
perpetuation of its species, and whenever and
wherever it blooms, whether man see it or not, it
blooms but as the precursor of a race. That any
Divine truth should come into the heart, and bring
with it no law for its own re-production and
increase, contradicts all analogy, and violates the
primary sense of obligation of which humanity is
conscious. Nor ought it to be forgotten how the very
utterrance of " things hard to be understood," and
capable of being " wrested to destruction," tends to
hasten on the period when, if they are of God, they
will have insinuated themselves into acceptance,
or forced for themselves a public welcome. What
if our exhibition of them awakens no echo within
reach of our hearing, or produces a response the
very opposite to our anticipations or desires 1 May
it not be answering the purpose for which it was

e2

52 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

sent, for all that, much more effectually, perhaps,
than if the event should correspond with our
wishes? Who can tell the new directions it is
giving to religious thinking, or the prejudices it
is loosening by the jar which it occasions them,
or the inklings of kindred intellects with which
it may tally, or the problems long pondered over
in vain which it may solve, or the unheeded
susceptibilities which it may precisely suit? And
yet all this ought to be within easy ken of him
who can imagine that God has sent a thought
into the world too soon for the world's advantage.
After all, however, there is little reason to fear,
on behalf of the Church, any such transcendental
discoveries as the strain of the foregoing observa-
tions implies. The great facts of divine revelation
are as unchangeable as the hills — and the more
obvious spiritual truths which they set forth, and
which, ever since apostolic times, have been
commonly received, are not likely to be reversed,
nor rendered obsolete, by the most successful in-
sight of religious contemplation. Much may be
done, it is true, by repeated investigation, to
modify first impressions, and to cleanse our stiff
and hardened creeds, and our settled sentiments
and practices, from the thick incrustations of
wordliness wliich still adhere to them — but the
main elements of which they consist may be
expected to continue the same through all future

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 53

ages. The " doctrine of reserve," therefore, if
ever admissible among men, is now too late. The
Church, which embodies the great verities of the
New Testament — I mean, the facts of the gospel —
cannot be justly represented as unfit to listen to
any man's interpretation of those facts. Qualified
as she has been held to receive the one, she has
within her an additional qualification for examining
the other. On the whole, then, it does not appear
that our acknowledged duty to " speak the things
which we have seen and heard," can be justifiably
overriden by any notions we may entertain of a
general unpreparedness to receive them. That
which is in us, is there for the purpose of being
made manifest — and we fail in our duty in sufifering
it, under any pretence, to remain there in unfruit-
fulness. Else, doubtless, we should have been
originally constituted after a very difi'erent fashion.
For just estimate the capabilities of man to act
for the future ! What can his wisdom eff'ect beyond
this, that every present step is planted upon firm
and well-ascertained ground 1 His boasted foresight
is nothing more than a record of what has been
done, conjoined with the presumption that it may
be done again. Between his anticipations and the
event, tiny circumstances may alight, as if in
mockery, and scatter all his conclusions. A pro-
foundly ignorant creature, with all his seeming
knowledge, what does he know of the laws of

54 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

mind, and how much will his vision take in of
the world of incidents, by any one of which mind
will be acted upon and determined '? Can he see
far enough before him to prevent his running upon
his own individual injury ] And is it, can it be,
to the counsels of such an one that the destinies
of truth are committed by her Master? Surely,
no ! We are called upon by a voice which we
are bound to obey, to bear witness to the truth
which is in us — and when we have done that, we
have done our part. The world may sneer in
derision, or tremble in awe — may hoot as in Sodom,
or repent as in Nineveh. But this is not our
province. We have done what we could — and
with God we must be content to leave the results.

This strain of preliminary observation has been
pursued at some length, that we may be the more
fully prepared for the undertaking which follows.
A free inquiry into the present state of the Church,
a searching analysis of its sentiments and spirit,
an honest and out-spoken review of its machinery
and modes of working, could hardly be conducted
with calmness of temper, or hope of advantage,
if any doubt lingered in our minds that the
attempt itself is reconcileable with an intelligent
and feeling concern for the honour of Christianity,
and the highest interests of men. I hope enough
has been said to convince us, that the Chiu'ch, so
far from suffering from the frank utterance of

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 55

our convictions, be they what they may, will
assuredly profit by it — and that m offering our
opinions on any matters touching her life, growth,
and welfare, we are but following out a course
in harmony with all the Divine arrangements
respecting her, and discharging an obligation
which we are not at liberty to evade.

For some time back it has been matter of
general remark and complamt, that modern Chris-
tianity, or more properly, perhaps, the visible em-
bodiment of the truths of the gospel, is far from
what it should be. The best of men, and the
least disposed to take a sombre view of our
religious condition and prospects, seem to be
sensible that there is something wrong somewhere.
They may not agree as to what that something is
— they may profess their inability to lay their
finger upon it — but looking at the general cha-
racter of religion in this country in the present
day, and at its practical results, they are sadly
dissatisfied AAath the one, and dispirited by the
other. They more than half suspect that an
insidious disease is preying upon the vitals of the
Church of Christ, and that if sound in her doctrine,
scriptural in her constitution, and wise in her
ordinary modes of action, she must yet have
imbibed some poison from the world, which robs
her of energy, and renders all her movements
languid and listless. Such an impression is not

56 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

confined to any one denomination of British Chris-
tians, and, so far as my own observation extends,
is but a natural result upon spiritual minds of
the present state of things existing amongst them
all. The Church is plainly out of health. Her
bloom is faded and gone. Her hands hang down.
Her knees tremble. She has no elasticity. She
has little strength. Certainly, she was not always
thus. She has often suifered — aye! grievously,
but not precisely in this way — not as if by a
wasting sickness. This broad fact, I think, is all
but universally recognised — something is the matter,
if we could but find out what it is.

In justification of the inquiry upon which we
are about to enter, let it be borne in mind that
even an unsuccessful attempt to ascertain what
is morbid in the condition of the Church, may
not be \vithout its use. It may provoke to a
more searching investigation of the subject by
other minds better qualified for the task — or it
may throw off some thoughts which, if not absolutely
true, or intrinsically important, may yet give a
turn to the thinking powers, which will guide
them to sound and weighty conclusions. In the
vain speculations of Alchemy, the modern science
of Chemistry took its rise. In some cases, one
had better speak wide of the mark, than not speak
at all. Anything which will put an end to
stagnation is to be welcomed. Suppose the follow-

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 57

ing diagnosis of the Church's ailment to be utterly
mistaken, and the remedial suggestions offered
absurd and impracticable, yet if they succeed in
rousing attention to the question treated of, neither
time nor labour will have been misspent. One
earnest effort, although in itself a failure, may
elicit others to realize ultimate success. Things
/may go on a long time in a bad way, everybody
conscious of something amiss, and nobody deeming
it his business to speak, until conventional silence
in regard to it, acquires something like the force
of law. Wherever this is so, folly itself may
render public service by dissolving the spell — and
no exhibition of thought, no utterance of convic-
tion, which puts an end to this mute agreement,
can fail of being ultimately beneficial. Tingling
is better than torpor — and, just as the worst of
superstitions is to be preferred to indifference, so,
in the case under notice, the completest failure is
to be chosen rather than inaction.

But it may yet be urged as an objection to the
proposed inquiry, that it will tend to expose the
Church not only to the reproaches of the world,
but to its incorrect, because unfriendly inferences.
If we are to " walk circumspectly," and " with
wisdom towards them that are without," can it
be justifiable or expedient to uncover defects in
their view, to point their notice to weaknesses which
might else have escaped them, and thus to lessen

58 RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HOW

the influence of that moral power which, not-
withstanding all that is faulty, continues to be
operative 1 To this objection, the reply is obvious.
Whatever knowledge can really damage the
Church's character in the estimation of those
who care not for her, they possess already. They
see, without needing any publication of it by us,
the sort of religion prevalent in our day. They
know what it assumes to be, and what it is —
what it undertakes to do, and wherein it has
fallen short of its undertaking. We cannot con-
ceal from them the facts of the case — we can
only mystify the causes of them. But what can
Christianity gain by our reserve 1 Nothing what-
ever. On the contrary, studied silence on our
part as to the true character and source of what
is evil or defective in the religious sentiments and
practices of the churches of our age, does but
encourage the world in ascribing to the gospel
itself, what belongs only to our own mistaken
methods of displaying it. If we save ourselves
by this means, it is at the expense of what ought
to be dearer to us than ourselves — the reputation
of the truth we have received. Let the world
hear all that is to be said, and Christianity will
be rescued from many false imputations on her
character.

I have, perhaps, too greatly extended these
prefatory remarks, yet, if by doing so, I have

IT SHOULD BE TREATED. 59

removed serious doubts as to the expediency of our
enterprise, neither my labour, nor the patience of
my readers, will have been vainly bestowed. The
thoughts which have detained us so long, may
prove of no trivial service to us as we proceed.
Under the influence of them upon our hearts,
let us advance to the task before us. In a spirit
of love unfeigned to the brotherhood, faith in truth,
and earnest desire for the spiritual power, progress,
and triumph of the Church of Christ, let us pro-
secute the design we have projected and announced
— and we may cherish the hope that He who
weaves aU things into his glorious plan will over-
rule even our mistakes for his own honour.

CHAPTER II.

THE PROPER OBJECT AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH.

CONTENTS.

DESIGN OF THE CHAPTER STATED— MORAL DETERIORATION OF
HUMAN NATURE — HOW ACCOUNTED FOR — CONSISTS IN WANT OF
SYMPATHY WITH GOD'S MORAL GOVERNMENT — AGGRAVATED AND
CONFIRMED BY GUILT — DEVOID OF ALL POWER OF SELF-RESTORATION
— god's PLAN FOR OVERCOMING THIS EVIL — HIS MIND CONVEYED TO
US IN A SERIES OF HISTORICAL FACTS — ALL IN KEEPING WITH HIS
PURPOSE, TO ATTRACT MAN's SYMPATHY TO MORAL LAW — THE
PURPORT OF THOSE FACTS, AND THEIR ADAPTATION TO WIN MAN TO
HEARTY SUBJECTION — SUPREME AUTHORITY WORKING OUT OUR DELI-
VERANCE— AT THE COST OF EXTREME SUFFERING — RESULTING IN OUR
ELEVATION TO A STATUS OF MORAL FREEDOM. THE EXHIBITION OF
THIS SCHEME OF RECONCILIATION FITLY ASSIGNED TO MEN — TO MEN
WHO APPRECIATE IT — TO MEN IN ORGANIZED ASSOCIATIONS OR
CHURCHES — MAIN END FOR WHICH CHURCHES HAVE BEEN INSTI-
TUTED— HARMONY OF SPIRIT WITH THAT END REQUISITE TO SUCCESS
— WILL SHOW ITSELF IN SYMPATHY WITH GOD'S RIGHTS— INTEREST
IN man's welfare — FAITH IN THE GOSPEL AS A MEANS TO SECURE
BOTH — CONCLUSION.

CHAPTER 11.

In order to a just estimate of the particulars in
which, and the extent to which, the British
Churches may be regarded as wanting in efficiency,
it will be necessary to get as clear a notion as
possible of the kind of work given them to do, and
the power entrusted to them for its performance.
If, as may be hoped, the standard of measurement
can be generally agreed upon, there will be less
likelihood of serious difference of opinion, in our
after statement of the result of its application.
Accordingly, I shall attempt, in the present chapter,
a brief exposition of that change in man which it
is the avowed object of revealed truth to effect — of
the exquisite adaptation of that truth to bring about
the change — of the arrangements made by God to
secure an appropriate exhibition of the truth, and
of the spirit requisite to an efficient application of
them. A church is an organized association of
men, whose principal design it is, so to commend

64 THE PROPER OBJECT

God, as portrayed in the Gospel, to those who are
ignorant of, or mistake, his nature and his purposes,
as to win them over to a willing subjection to him ;
or, in other words, to do all that human instrumen-
tality is appointed, and competent, to do, to awaken
in the hearts of their fellow-men, a sympathizing
recognition of the Supreme. The inquiry, there-
fore, whether the Church is fulfilling, in the main,
its primary object, and if not, to what causes its
failure may be traced, can hardly be carried on
satisfactorily, until we have acquired a clear con-
ception of its peculiar enterprise and its legitimate
resources.

Whether mankind have sufiered any deterio-
ration of nature in consequence of their descent
from the first pair — whether such deterioration, if
it exist, be uniformly transmitted from father to
son — and whether this state of things, supposing it
to be a fact, is taken into account in the Divine
plan of moral government, so far as our world is
concerned, are questions about which men difier in
opinion far more widely in terms than in substance.
Candour, perhaps, will not be disposed to deny,
that, to the whole extent of our present acquaint-
ance with the inferior orders of animal life, there is,
in every individual of every species, a perfect sym-
pathy of its nature with the position assigned it by
the Creator. Its propensions, just in proportion
as they are developed, uniformly move it to keep

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. (i5

its appointed station, and to do its allotted work.
The inner principle, be it what it may, unfolds
in exact correspondence with the outer sphere.
Wherever there is any divergence of the one from
the other, the divergence may be traced to an
external disturbing cause. Now the same law
does not hold good in man. His proper position
is manifestly one of intelligent and happy sub-
ordination to his Maker, and of his nature it may
be said that it does not spontaneously sympathize
with that position. Left to its own tendencies,
it does not prefer to be subordinate. It seems
devoid of any internal force which would impel it,
in proportion as its powers mature, to put itself
more and more in that relationship of dependence
and subjection to the Creator, which even reason
will allow to be exclusively suitable. Instead of
yielding itself up instinctively to moral govern-
ment, and being irresistibly drawn out into a
glad surrender of itself to superior goodness, it
invariably resents the appearance of a moral check,
and even when it perceives its duty and its highest
interest, is conscious of no predominant bias to
place it in harmony with either. Call this what
you will, the evil which comes out of it, is assign-
able not to man's appointed sphere, but to his
nature, which ill agrees with it. As a creature,
it could never have been otherwise than right that
he should be subject to his Creator — as an intelli-

F

66 THE PROPER OBJECT

gent and moral creature, intelligently and morally
so — and if between the position which, of necessity,
he ought to occupy, and his natural preferences,
there is no exact and growing agreement, the cause
of the discrepancy must needs be in himself, by
what accident soever it might have come there.

I know not that it falls within the scope of my
present purpose, to account for this deterioration —
yet, perhaps, I may be allowed to state my behef,
that to it the Apostle Paul distinctly refers when he
says that "In Adam we all die" — "In Adam the
many are made sinners." Our common descent
from Adam, the first transgressor, is impHed by
these words to connect with it a common disinheri-
tance of a principle of life towards God. If it be
a fact that man's nature is not m keeping with
his legitimate sphere — and all observation and ex-
perience, I think, drive us to the acknowledgment
of it — the Apostle's mode of accounting for its exist-
ence is neither in itself improbable, nor unreason-
able. So mysteriously sensitive is the tie which
links the spirit with the body — so close and intimate
is the sympathy between the one and the other —
so manifestly does change in the condition of
either leave its traces upon the condition of its asso-
ciate— that I discern no difficulty in conjecturing
tliat the first spiritual deflection of the first man
left its mark upon his physical frame — disturbed
and disarranged some part of that delicate

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 67

mechanism the origmal perfection of which was
necessary to the action of complete moral purity —
snapped, as it were, the hair-spring by means of
which spontaneous life towards God was intended
to work on to its fair issue — and that this disturb-
ance was irremediable so far as the body was
concerned — increased by subsequent acts of moral
insubordination to which it may have contributed
— and was transmitted to all our race by natural
generation. Or, if not so, I see no absurdity in the
supposition that the forbidden fruit of which the
first pair ate, in disobedience of their Creator's sole
injunction, may have introduced into their physical
system an element of change, incompatible with a
subsequent spontaneous and irresistible sympathy
with moral rectitude and goodness. Be this as it
may, be the seat of our deterioration of nature in
the body or the soul, be it transfused from father to
child or not — I take it to be clear that man univer-
sally exhibits a want of natural disposition for his
appropriate sphere — I believe this want of harmony
to be the result, not of his original creation, but of
a subsequent calamity affecting his internal eco-
nomy— and I accept, without violence to my reason,
what I apprehend to be the Scripture account of
the matter, that " by one man's disobedience many
were made sinners."

The true nature of the evil, however, under
which the whole human family spii'itually suffer,

f2

68 THE PROPER OBJECT

rather than the incident by which it supervened, is
the point upon which our purpose would fix atten-
tion. They who most strenuously deny the fact
that man comes into life under the disadvantage of
a moral infirmity, admit that in all instances, and
in every conceivable variety of circumstances, he
very soon resigns himself to it. A tendency to
make his own will his chief end, whether inherited
or acquired, speedily shows itself in every indi-
vidual of the race. Besides the intimations of the
Bible, there are not wanting several significant
signs that such a state of things was not primeval,
but superinduced. And this fact is well described
as the fall of man. Of the calamitous change in
his moral constitution and destiny which it brought
about, it is difficult to speak in terms of exagge-
ration. As first created, we are bound to suppose
in regard to him, an entire and unbroken corre-
spondence between the cravings, impulses, dispo-
sitions, and aff'ections of his nature, and whatever
of the Divine mind, character, or will, was presented
to him in the works of God — and had that corre-
spondence never been destroyed, we might have
expected to witness the happy consequences of it in
his off'spring. In such case, would not mind, even
in its earliest dawn, have longed for as eagerly,
have relished as sensibly, have assimilated as surely
and kindly, all spiritual truth within its reach, as
the helpless infant that sustenance which a mother

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. (t9

only can supply ? Would not submission to the
will of the Supreme have been, not a constraint
put upon first inclinations, but an indulgence
offered to an ever-present desire"? To discover
him, to be pleased in him, to repose the heart
upon him, to be his subjects, to live, and love,
and act, and enjoy, with him as the sole end of
all, and over the daily widening surface of know-
ledge, to mingle with Godhead, and welcome every
display of his perfections with a loyal and trusting
sympathy — would not this have been our eager
choice, the natural, artless, self-suggested response
of every human being 1 Actual experience fur-
nishes us with a melancholy, a total reverse.
Instead of a leaping forth of the joyous soul to
meet God, the first thoughts of him diffuse a chill
through our spirits, and the earliest consciousness
of his just claims upon us stirs us to resistance.
We cannot recognise his voice without being-
startled by it, and the impulse which it first
awakens is to flee, as did our first father, from his
presence. Tenderly susceptible, it may be, in all
other respects, and ever seeking delight in the
exercise of our young powers upon the external
objects adapted to call them out, there is no similar
sensitiveness to moral impression, no hilarious
expenditure of ourselves upon things and thoughts
which image to us the ruling Deity. There is no
sweet resignation of ourselves to his government,

W THE PROPER OBJECT

even when reason has brought home to us the
conviction that it is wisest, seemliest, and best.
There are not wanting instances amongst our social
relationships in which, to give ourselves to another
is unspeakable rapture, and to be most implicitly
at another's command is felt to be the highest form
of freedom. But no such experience does our
nature yield us in our relationship to God. The
wish dwells not within us, that he should be all
in all. No serene satisfaction is as sunshine to
our spirits in view of his supremacy. We do not
bless the arrangement which places us under law
to him. His very goodness, when associated in
our minds with his sovereignty, makes us sad.
And whilst the homage of all creatures is his
due — the due of his glorious being, of his cha-
racter, of his works, and, emphatically, of all in
their aspect towards ourselves, we are not spon-
taneously impelled to render it — and when ren-
dered, it is never in the spirit of cordial assent
to his right to rule, or of grateful acknowledg-
ment that it is our interest and honour to obey.

This absence of sympathy with moral law, and
the Supreme moral Governor of whose will it is an
expression, is soon converted into positive enmity
by a sense of guilt. Consciousness of wrong-doing
is, by the constitution of our minds, followed by
consciousness of evil desert — and self-dissatisfaction,
distrust, dread, hatred, raise between us and the

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 7 1

Author of our being an insurmountable barrier.
The modes in which this state of mind may show
itself are infinitely diversified, but it is never-
theless distinguishable under every disguise by one
pervading characteristic — alienation between man's
free-will and man's proper position. In the daring
blasphemy that hurls defiance at Heaven's throne
— in the sensuality that shrouds it in forgetfulness
— in the sentimentalism that robs it of the attribute
of justice — in the Pharisaism that bows with osten-
tation before it — in the asceticism that would conci-
liate it by self-torture — in the gloomy fear that
cowers at its base — the same want of natural con-
geniality with right, as right, in reference to God's
claim, is equally observable. To be governed by
wisdom, goodness, truth, righteousness, power — to
submit to the rule of Him in whom they all meet
and mingle, and harmonize, who is the source of
all, and of whose glorious nature all are but varied
reflections — to be living, intelligent, exact, unfailing
exponents of his will — this, which is our first duty,
is never our self -chosen and hearty decision. What
we do, and what we forbear to do, may be regu-
lated more or less by regard to divine authority —
but the real evil is — that which constitutes our shi,
our shame, our misery, our divorce from God, our
spiritual perdition — that obedience to his authority
is not our soul's aff"ectionate, grateful, and confiding
choice. If we could be without law to our Maker,

72 THE PROPER OBJECT

we should prefer to be so. Subjection to him we
cannot but admit to be right, but we wish it were
otherwise. The obhgation under which his benig-
nity and creating power have laid us, we could
desire to be one not founded so immovably in the
nature of thmgs. It would be a relief to us to dis-
cover that the All-perfect were not all-perfect —
that the hand-writing upon our consciences, which
tells us " sin shall not go unpunished," and " the
way of transgressors is hard," conveyed to us but a
feigned interpretation of his mind — that after all
he has no such care for complete purity of spirit,
no such settled disapprobation of wrong, no such
concern to uphold the majesty of law, as we have
been accustomed to think. In a word, were it
possible for the human will to enthrone a Deity
representative of its own choice, it is certain that
he would be other than the God under whose
government we live.

Discord, then, between man's moral nature and
his moral position — an inherited indisposition to be
under law to the proper Author and end of law,
ripened into aversion by acts of disobedience —
livhig, mtelligent, and immortal souls become inca-
pable of taking delight in the responsibilities of a
relationship which is and must be, and wliich is and
must be not only suitable for them, but best — this
I take to be the sum of revealed teaching in regard
to the ruin of our race. And this state of things.

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 73

left to run its own course, and to produce its own
fruits, appears to be irremediable. It carries in it
no single germ of possible renovation. It com-
prises no element of self-change Godward. Judged
of exclusively by its own inherent tendencies, it is a
final, fixed, unutterable disagreement of man's
heart with his lot — a disagreement made broader
by every manifestation of it — a disagreement
necessarily and utterly incompatible with peace,
satisfaction, or happiness.

Such, in substance, is the evil which it is the
beneficent purpose of God by the gospel, and the
object of the Church by the consistent exhibition
of the gospel, to remedy. By observing what is
the kind and direction of the moral force which
he has brought to bear in efiecting his gracious
end, we may gain not only an accurate, but a vivid
conception of the proper scope of labour assigned
to the Church,

The principle upon which the Supreme chose to
proceed in meeting, checking, conquering, destroy-
ing, the evil we have attempted to describe, was
that of placing his own authority, as the moral
Ruler, and law, as a simple expression of that
authority, in association with facts calculated to
attract for them the inmost sympathies of man.
To disperse from his mind the dark cloud of appre-
hension which overshadowed it, occasioned by an
indelible consciousness of guilt — to elicit confidence

74 THE PROPER OBJECT

in the Divine good-will — and, by his moral doings,
to exhibit his moral being in a light certain, when
perceived, of conciliating esteem and of drawing out
love, appear to have been the main features of his
design. To this end, his approach to us is person-
ally, and in our own nature. In the life of a man^
a partaker with us of flesh and blood, a fellow-
member of the family descended from common
progenitors — in the incidents, relationships, acts,
enjoyments, liabilities, sufi'erings, of a man's passage
from the cradle to the grave — in a man's history
full of marvels, crowded with deeds of touching
kindness, pervaded by a spirit of undeviating and
cheerful self-sacrifice, radiant with a purity which
even we can appreciate, and chastened with trials
and sorrows in which om- hearts can take share — in
the course and destiny of a man representative of
the efitire race, and mysteriously concentrating in
himself all the threads of their legal responsibility
to the Most High — it was in this guise, and through
this medium, full of interest, pathos, and power,
that the Godhead was pleased to make an appeal to
us on behalf of those his rights which our nature
had repudiated, and to disclose to us those his
desires and designs respecting us which his own
character prompted, but which our guilty mis-
givings could not recognise. The controversy
between the Sovereign and his subjects was thus
adjourned from the region of abstractions which

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 75

the understanding only could have reached, to one
in which all our emotions might have full play.
Heaven pleaded with us the necessity, the duty,
and the reward, of willing subordination to the
Highest, in a strain fitted to interest our deepest
affections. The sublime truth which it addressed
to us with a view to win us to allegiance, all beam-
ing as it was with unearthly light, stole upon our
hearts softly and unobtrusively in human garb —
and, in a language warm with feeling, in whispers
breathing ineflPable tenderness, with gestures expres-
sive of earnest love, and with tears betokening
reality and depth of concern for our welfare, it
brought before us God's claims and our own
interests. This niethod of dealing with us threw
us back at once upon the nobler and more generous
instincts of our nature. It was an overture to the
will through the sympathies. Authority, in this
proceeding, waived its rights and ceased to speak in
terms of command — and descending from the
throne whence it could only treat us as rebels, it
conversed with us freely, unreservedly, wooingly, as
if resolved, at any sacrifice, to have the final deci-
sion of our hearts. The entire series of gospel facts
seems to me to have been planned with an express
view to this. Man's misery and curse consisted in
the inherited and increasing discordance of his
sympathies with the rightful and necessary claims
of the moral Governor. To those sympathies,

76 THE PROPER OBJECT

therefore, any remedial dispensation must have
regard. And hence, the wisdom of God threw his
conciliatory application to our ruined nature, into
the shape of facts cast in the mould of humanity,
and quickened by a vitality warm, genial, and
palpitating to the touch of our souls.

Such was the position in which Supreme moral
authority condescendingly placed itself, as that best
adapted to encourage and entice our sympathies,
previously averse to it, to an amicable parley. It
will be useful to observe that all the details of
gospel fact are in exquisite keeping with the
general plan. All the resources of the Divine skill
brought to bear in the conduct of this extra-
ordinary approach to man, seem to have assumed
an aspect of persuasiveness. The power exhibited
is, throughout, the power of gentleness. It is a
history, from its commencement to its close, illus-
trative of Deity engaged, not in crushing resistance,
not in overamng the conscience, but in gaining the
heart. The Son of Man moves on to his merciful
purpose, along a pathway of poverty, with grief as
his companion. His human relationships are all
humble — his very country, a country held in con-
tempt. " He cries not — he strives not — his voice
is not heard in the streets — he breaks not the
bruised reed — quenches not the smoking flax."
All is noiseless. There is no vulgar magnificence
— no pomp — no thimdcr. Whenever Godhead

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 77

flashes forth from him, it is in deeds of kindness.
His miracles are uniformly as modest as they are
decisive — evince a fellow-feeHng with the wretched
as strikingly as they do a perfect command of
divine power— and address themselves as pointedly
to our sensibilities as to our reason. His discourses
are akin to his deeds. Deep, we may almost say,
anxious, interest in man, pervades and characterises
them — but it is in man viewed in his moral rela-
tionship to God. The themes upon which he
dwells, to which he perpetually recurs, to illustrate
which he would seem to task his invention, and
which he commends to implicit trust, not merely
when delivering instruction in the temple, but in
roadside interviews wdth the profligate, at festive
entertainments of the respectable, to the masses, as
we call them, in the open air of the desert, or the
seaside, and upon occasions of national solemnities,
are re-assuring, as his tone and manner are winning
and pathetic. He never forgets, indeed, that he is
pleading the cause of rightful authority, but he not
less constantly remembers that his mission is one to
the aflections, and its object, not to force subjection,
but to gain it. The very record of his life, drawn
up for the instruction of all succeeding generations,
is in the same spirit — simple, artless, attractive —
not a glorious panegyric, but an unadorned narra-
tive— not an outburst of impetuous energy, but a
" still small voice " — stealing over our souls as a

78 THE PROPER OBJECT

touching melody from the shepherd's pipe, rather
than startling us as the blast of the archangel's
trumpet. And that whole dispensation over which
he presides, and which, viewed objectively, we call
Christianity, is marked by the same character.
Christ is living over his life again, as it were, in his
cause. The power at work in regenerating the
world is a silent power — itself as unobtrusive as the
most hidden law of nature, but as irresistible — the
cause of many convulsions, perhaps of most, and yet
in its own nature and operation perfectly calm —
just as we have seen solid masonry penetrated and
rent asunder by the gradual expansion of a vege-
table seed dropped into some chink upon its
surface.

Passing on from this glance at the external form
and persuasive spirit in which this communication
of the Supreme moral Ruler to his revolted
subjects is made, we proceed to notice its actual
substance. It is requisite for us to keep clearly in
view the object at which he aims. It is not so
much to vindicate his own right to hold over us an
undivided sway, as to prevail on us to make uncon-
ditional and entire submission to that sway the
choice of our whole being. His purpose in the
gospel is to overcome our dislike for subordination
to himself — to bring about a preference for that
position which best becomes us — and so to unfold
his character and his ultimate design as that we.

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 79

under the influence of our perceptions of them,
shall be constrained to identify our fondest wishes,
our completest satisfaction, our highest happiness,
with the merging of our own will into his. By
what arrangement does he seek to accomplish this
object, utterly unattainable save by his own inter-
position ? On what plan does he proceed to link
together human sympathies with Divine rule?
Briefly, and in a single sentence, I reply, by exhi-
biting his inalienable supremacy, his right to do
as he will with his creatures, his concern for the
maintenance of his own government, occupied in
planning, executing, realizing, our escape from the
curse and its consequences. We are bidden by the
gospel to witness what we most dislike achieving
for us what we least expected, but what we most
need. It is that sovereignty in which we could
not sympathize which offers us a discharge from
the evil effects of our own enmity — that un-
swerving rectitude which we would fain have de-
throned which suggests and works out the arrange-
ment whereby we become free — that holiness, or in
other words, perfect love regulated by perfect
wisdom, which we regarded with growing disaffec-
tion, which proposes reconcihation, and performs all
the conditions on which alone it can be honourably
effected. Moral government originating and adopt-
ing an expedient whereby its own claims may be
met, its own insults avenged, and its own sanctions

80 THE PROPER OBJECT

justified, and yet admitting of an annulment of the
penalties due to us by our revolt — this, indeed,
is the grand peculiarity of the gospel. It displays
not merely the benevolence of God, but the holi-
ness of God — his unalterable love of right, his
inflexible adherence to law, his irreconcileable
abhorrence of sin — engaged in working out our
redemption from its own just sentence. We
observe in it precisely that attribute of God which
appeared to preclude the practicability of our re-
turn to him, foremost, so to speak, in interceding
for, and obtaining our deliverance. It was because
law, di\dne law, remitted none of its claims, all
of which were reasonable, and exhausted its every
penalty, all of which were deserved, that a free
and spontaneous subjection to it on our part
becomes possible. Viewed in this light, there
can be discovered nothing in the character of the
moral Governor, nothing in the necessities of his
administration, nothing in our own position or in
the nature of things, to repel our affections — but,
on the contrary, everything to attract and to elicit
them. Holiness comes amongst us as a friend,
and appeals to us for a hearty and generous
allegiance. All that most awed us stoops to woo
us. " Be mine, be freely mine," is the kindly
solicitation of authority to our inmost souls. Now
it may surely be asked, with some confidence,
whether it is possible to imagine an arrangement

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 81

more exquisitely fitted to draw over human sym-
pathies to the side of divine government, than
that which shows us divine government engaged
in achieving our rescue from irremediable ruin ?

Let me add, however, that the appeal thus made
to us, is made all the more persuasively, in
consequence of the human and personal history
in which it is first cognizable by us. In the
life of Jesus, nothing is more striking, nothing
more impressive, than his entire and devoted sub-
jection to the will of his Father. His whole
work, as Mediator, was undertaken, carried on,
and completed, in voluntary obedience to the
appointment of the Most High. His consent, his
choice, his ever-manifest and yearning anxiety, that
God shall be all in all, was that which secured
for us all the advantages which are now within
our reach. If to him we can perceive we owe
anything, we cannot but be sensible that we
are made his debtors by his having done " the will
of Him who sent him." Out of his cheerful sub-
ordination to law springs our release from the
punitive demands of law. In Him who saves us,
and in the series of acts and sufferings whereby
he saves us, we see embodied just that one thing
which we are naturally disinclined to prefer —
prompt, hearty, unreserved, joyous concurrence
with the mind, and submission to the rule, of
the universal Sovereign. And, like as that music

G

82 THE PROPER OBJECT

which we cared not once to hear, becomes mex-
pressibly sweet to us, when used as the medium
of breathing into our souls the trust and affection
of a much-loved friend, so homage to the authority
of God, in which we could take no pleasure, may
become irresistibly attractive to us, when associated,
as in the life and undertaking of the Son of God,
with our deliverance from eternal judgment, our
enjoyment of present peace, and our hopes of
future glory.

I claim the notice of the reader to another cha-
racteristic feature of God's appeal to man in the
gospel. The good achieved for us by unswerving
adherence to the principles of moral order, is the
fruit of disinterested and inexpressible self-sacrifice.
The sufferings of the Son of Man were the costly
testimony he offered to the propriety and the
necessity of preserving unimpaired the authority
of his Father's moral government in this world.
And what a painfully interesting life is his ! One
cannot but be struck with the pervading sadness
of his spirit — as if his soul, while absorbed in his
great undertaking, was too intent upon its accom-
plishment, to relax into smiles. There is notliing
sombre in the message, but an affectingly mournful
air in the messenger. He sighs glad tidings to
us, not as though he could not participate in our
joy, but as though every word of hope and sym-
pathy breathed into our ears cost his own heart

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 83

an unseen and unutterable pang. His thouglits
and his emotions, so far as we can gather from
the evangelic narrative, were always solemn —
bordering, indeed, upon the sorrowful, as if too
large and too intense for the quiet of human
sensibilities. On no ordinary principles can we
account for this. A life of active benevolence,
unsullied purity, and of intimate converse with
God, was never seen elsewhere to be so uniformly
shaded with the hue of pensive grief The purpose
in his heart, the secret of his history, the key to
his whole course, must needs have been associated
with terrible suffering. " My soul is exceeding
sorrowful, even unto death," is a confession which
agrees too well with the tenor of his memoirs,
to extort from us surj^rise. That he wept we
cannot wonder, nor that with his moral sensitive-
ness, the evidence all around him of the havoc
made by sin, constrained him oftentimes to pour
forth his soul to God " in strong cryings and
tears " to strengthen him for the self-immolation
which he had in prospect. There is more than
one scene, however, in this personal history,
which brings together in close association the
bitterest anguish, and the most perfect resignation
— and which connects the mediatorial undertaking
to bring us back to allegiance, with an agony of
grief and terror which can hardly be witnessed
without the profoundest emotion. All attempt

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84 THE PROPER OBJECT

to analyze the causes or the nature of that
stupendous agony would be beside our purpose.
That it was real, that it was awfully violent, and
that it was connected with obedience, is suffi-
ciently plain. That attitude of prostration, that
anxiety to be protected for the hour from
external disturbance, that bloody sweat, that
importunate reiteration of the prayer for escape,
if escape were possible, leave us no room to doubt
the overwhelming severity of the crisis. The
capture, the desertion, the trial, the mockery,
the scourge, the cross, were comparatively as
nothing after this. Through all he is calm
and self-possessed. But that self-struggle at
Gethsemane, and that cry of horror on Calvary,
the first being probably an anticipation of the
last, must move human sympathy if anything
can move it. And mark! All the deep interest
which these scenes excite, is on the side of
obedience. Our feelings cannot mingle with his
in sorrow, without mingling with his also in
submission. This entire subordination to the
sovereign will of God, not naturally a congenial
subject of contemplation, becomes more and more
attractive as it passes visibly before us through
a storm of afflictions. We become one with the
man in his anguish, and almost insensibly we
are drawn on to oneness with liim in the cause
for which he endured it. Community in sadness

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 85

easily glides into community of sentiment and
attachment. And when we learn that our
own condition and our own destiny were the
object of our Lord's endurance, and that from
his obedience unto death we derive a claim
to a happy immortality, the effect upon our
will is powerful, — all but irresistible. Our enmity
is slain. Our antipathy to moral subjection is
overborne. Our hearts embrace law. To be at
the disposal of the Supreme is our choice. To
know no other will than his is the decision,
not of calculation, not of fear, not merely of
sense of obligation, but of affectionate and grateful
preference. The mischief of the Fall is repaired
— and delicious harmony between our souls and
their proper position is restored. Spiritually re=
garded, we are a new creation.

I offer but one other illustration of the suitable-
ness of the gospel to effect its purpose — that, I
mean, of enlisting our sympathies on the side of
moral subjection to the Supreme — and it is the
ground upon which that subjection is represented,
as, on the one hand, presentable, and on the other
hand, accepted. The work of Christ is uniformly
set forth in the Scriptures, as taking us from under
a dispensation of law, and placing us under a
dispensation of love. There is a world-mde differ-
ence between the two. The one demands con-
formity to a command — the other solicits trust

86 THE PROPER OBJECT

in an offer. The spirit of this is coercive — the
spirit of that is alluring. " Do and live " is the in-
junction of the former — " Come and live," the
invitation of the latter. The characteristic of the
first is light from without, converging from all
quarters upon the conscience — that of the last is
light kindled within, diffusing itself in every
direction, and beautifying everything by its OAvn
beams. There, authority enjoins — here, goodness
wooes and wins. Morally, there is as great a
distinction between the two economies as there is
between pressure and attraction — between the
uttered command of a master to his bondsman,
and the expressed will of a husband to his bride.
" We are not under the law, but under grace,"
Paul, in his Epistle to the Galatians, thus forcibly
contrasts the two states : " Now, I say that the
heir, as long as he is a child, differeth nothing from
a slave, though he be lord of all — but is under
tutors and governors until the time appointed of
the Father. Even so we, when we were children,
were in bondage under worldly rudiments — but
when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth
his Son, made of a woman, made under the law,
to redeem them that were under the law, that
ye might receive the adoption of sons. And
because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit
of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father.
Wherefore, thou art no more a slave, but a son; and

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 87

if a son, then an heir of God through Christ."
The meaning is — law is for children, principles for
men. In our minority, the will of our parents is
enforced upon us by authority, and prescribed by
commands. Rules fence us round on all sides —
and the ground of our obligation to do this, or to
abstain from that, is that we are told to do or to
abstain. The time comes, however, when we pass
from under this system of restraint. Obligation
remains, indeed, but law ceases. Obedience to
parental wishes, after this period, is expected to
express not so much submission to authority, as
the voluntary choice of the understanding and the
heart. So in reference to our spiritual relationship,
the gospel takes us from under a state of law, and,
in the place of that outward restraint, we receive
a living spirit, to prompt us to cheerful obedience.
The service of God to which we are called is the
service of love. The only submission which
pleases him, is the submission rendered because
it pleases us. If it be not an emanation from
our own hearts — something done because we prefer
to do it — it is not the thing which the gospel
requu'es. That which God in Christ asks at our
hands — that which he expects as the fruit of the
altered relationship into which Christianity intro-
duces us, is to give full play to our own Avill in the
homase which we render to his thronCc If we are
not at his feet because we would be there — if we

88 THE PROPER OBJECT

offer not our worsliip because miiicl, conscience, and
heart concur in choosing to worship him — if we
run not on his errands of mercy because we delight
to run, and not because we must — oui- response to
his ap2)eal to our sympathies is not what he
intended. The obedience of the gospel is not
the reluctant answer of a weaker, to the summons
of a stronger power — but the willing and cordial
embrace by true love of true loveliness. The rela-
tion of Christ to his Church is typified by that
of marriage. There is obligation binding as
human mind will allow of — there is subjection
perfect as human nature can pay — but the obli-
gation is moral, not legal — and the subjection is
nothing unless it be rendered by choice. We are
called unto liberty. The spirit breathed into us by
Christianity is not a spirit of bondage. God's
arrangements in the gospel put us upon that
footing of relationship to him, as that he can
receive, and we may render, the homage, not of
servants, but of sons. Our obedience is to be in
the nature of a free-will offering, carried sponta-
neously to the altar by grateful affection. Of our
own, in this high sense, we are invited to give to
him. The service we pay is perfect freedom — the
spirit of it, adoring, heartfelt love. Why, what
ingenious nature is not draAvn and held fast to
God by noble ties like these ten thousand times
more readily and securely than by all the con-

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 89

straints of lawl Do they not leave room for the
play of every high-minded and generous emotion,
and give free scope to that perfect love which
casteth out fear? As the power of woman is in
her weakness, so the constraint of the gospel
is in its liberty. He who most thoroughly appre-
ciates it, is most strongly bound by it to yield his
heart to God. And, till we become familiar with
the true relationship in which the gospel places
us to the Supreme — till that manifestation of his
loving will is photographed upon our hearts — we
are never likely to associate happiness with sub-
mission. The soul of freedom will not be in it,
and until it is instinct with that, submission can
never be pleasantly rendered. God, in the person
and work of Jesus Christ, unveils his lovely coun-
tenance. We look and live — look and love — look
until all nature from within cries out — " Submit —
obey— adore — and be blessed in the government
of the only Blessed One."

Thus have I attempted to bring out into relief,
by two or three illustrations, the marvellous adapta-
tion of the gospel, both in its form and spirit, to
effect its beneficent purpose — to allure man's sym-
pathies back to the Divine government — to beget,
and nourish, and mature in him, a hearty
preference for unconditional subjection to the
Supreme. The great facts of revelation, their moral
significance, and the bearing they have upon

90 THE PROPER OBJECT

human destiny — what they are, what they dis-
close, and whither they beckon — when once appre-
hended by the soul, make that obedience which
was before an ungracious effort, and an unwelcome
and irksome restraint put upon its natui-al tendency,
its one, all-absorbing, best-loved purpose. Man is
just what that truth is which governs his affections.
He lives in what he loves — and when he chooses
with the joyful consent of his whole being what
God has already and irrevocably chosen for him —
when the will of the Highest concerning him
becomes his will concerning himself — he sets
himself right with the entire universe, is brought
into harmony with its pervading spirit and its
presiding power — is " made a partaker of the
Divine nature."

We have now glanced at the disease — we have
examined the most striking characteristics of the
remedy — it remains for us to ascertain the arrange-
ments made by Infinite Wisdom for the dispensa-
tion of the one with a view to the ultimate re-
moval of the other.

In perfect keeping with the object sought, and
with the nature of the instrument to be employed,
the dispensation of the gospel has been committed
to men. It would be beside our purpose to specu-
late whether the work could have been done by
any other order of intelligent creatures. We are
warranted in concluding that the actual selection

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 91

of man for this undertaking is the wisest and the
best. And certainly, if we are ignorant as to the
qualifications for it in which purer and more
exalted natures would have been deficient, we
can be at no loss to discover evidence enough of
exquisite fitness to commend to our judgment and
admiration the choice of human agency to carry
forward God's design in the gospel. The appeal
of revealed truth is to the sympathies — and surely,
none is more apt to attract and engage the sym-
pathies of man than his own fellow. We have a
mysterious — ^I may truly say, a fearful hold one
upon another. When through the ordinary means
of communication, soul meets soul, it is wonderful
how strength of purpose in the one, can obtain
for itself a perfect mastery over the other. Those
outward signs of earnestness, and deep emotion, of
which the body is capable, how impossible is it
for us to discern them without being ourselves
stirred! Man commending to his fellow-man a
great moral truth, with which his own soul has
become identified, and with which he would fain
identify the souls of others, radiates persuasiveness,
if I may so speak, from every part of his frame.
Why see ! The solemn import of his message in-
vests him mth an air of unwonted dignity, and
throws upon that countenance of his, upon which
we may have often looked with utter indifference,
a kind of preternatural majesty. The swell and

92 THE PROPER OBJECT

subsidence of his muscles with the tide of feeling
which flows and ebbs within him — the heaving of
his chest as if panting under the weight of the
theme u]3on which he discourses — the varying
shades of colour that pass over his face in rapid
alternation, vague but yet visible images of the
thoughts which are driving through the expanse
of his soul — the inexplicable language of those
eyes through which his heart looks mournfully,
wistfully, proudly, reproachfully, wooingly, and, in
every instance, is understood — the tones of that
voice in which every pulsation of the sympathies
is rendered audible, and all the movements of the
inner man disclose themselves in music — these out-
ward and material translations of thought, emotion,
and purpose, are never read by man without
awakening more or less his sensibihties, and
leaving, more or less distinctly, some copy of
their meaning upon his mind. A finger-post may
answer for mere guidance — the most arbitrary
symbols may serve the understanding for in-
struction—but would you gain over to any truth,
man's will, man's heart, man's self, that truth must
be introduced and recommended to him by a visible
and intimate companionship with humanity. But
this is not all. These emanations of soul, these
subtle but powerful emissions of feeling, of which
countenance, glance, tone, gesture, are conductors,
and which act so magically in putting one indi-

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 93

vidual en rapport with others, or, varying the
figure, which enable one human being to throw
the lasso over the sympathies of his fellows, are
not the only advantage which man possesses for
commending revealed truth to the regard of those
who are indisposed to receive it. Over and above
these, and independent of them, we are endowed
with other and higher qualifications for the task
of persuasion entrusted to us. Endlessly diver-
sified as are our idiosyncrasies, in their more
prominent features our hearts are akin. There
are general laws of emotion, as extensive and as
uniform in their operation, as are any of the
physical world. There may be innumerable bye-
ways to the heart, with only a few of which
any one man is acquainted; but there are also
great thoroughfares with which most men are
familiar. He who has tracked the route of any
great truth to the sanctuary of his own aff'ections,
may find the way, without difficulty, to that of
myriads. Men seldom err widely from the like-
liest path, when the persuasion of others is really
and exclusively their object. Indeed, earnestness
has its own instincts, which, when most implicitly
followed, are least likely to mislead. And hence
it naturally happens that in this noblest of moral
enterprises, the main business of which is with
the sensibilities of our nature, love can achieve
wonders which intellect might attempt in vain,

94 THE PROPER OBJECT

and faith remove the mountains which mere ability
can scarcely climb. To pursue this line of obser-
vation, however, as far as it would carry us, would
be superfluous. The main object kept in \tl6W
in proceeding thus far, has been to impress upon
the mind the wisdom of that arrangement which,
seeking to commend a divine message to man's
will, has chosen man as the messenger.

But it is to be noted as a further characteristic
of God's plan, that he has committed the dispen-
sation of the gospel to those men only who them-
selves sympathize with it. The loyal alone are
commissioned to preach allegiance — the wilUngly
subordinate, to wield the moral force of truth
in favour of order. It would be going beyond
the record of facts to assert that the divine scheme
of reconciliation cannot, in any case, be success-
fully presented, unless the mind of the agent be
in unison with its pervading spirit. But a few
happy casualties are not to be interpreted as illus-
trations of an authoritative purpose. A seed destined
to bear fruit may be carried to a congenial soil
by a bird of the air — but the law of the Creator
remains unrepealed that earth's bounty shall be
available only to human industry and skill. The
general plan is not invalidated by occasional and
isolated deviations from it. And that feature of
tlie plan which is now under notice is at once
so natural and appropriate that one is astonished

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 95

liow, on a large scale at least, it can have come
to be practically regarded. Would you have me
weejD, you must yourself weep, is a maxim through
which, as through an eyelet-hole, one may discern
a world of experience. Light may beget light, but
passion only can beget passion. Mark the differ-
ence in manner and in effect between the advo-
cacy of a professional pleader, whose subject enlists
none of his feelings, and that of the willing
friend, whose heart is in his cause ! The one
may inform, may instruct, may convince — but the
other only can take captive a reluctant will.
Earnest sympathy with the truth has a two-fold
advantage in the proclamation of it to others —
it aids him who makes the appeal — it impresses
him to whom the appeal is made. Upon the
party seeking to gain a convert, its influence is
powerfully auxiliary. It sees clearly where listless-
ness is blind. It finds arguments which mere
knowledge would have overlooked. Its eye is
quick to discover opportunities — skilful in mea-
suring the ground gained — accurate in determining
the direction in which to proceed. It has all the
tact and delicacy of true love. It is never at a
loss. A silence that speaks, a sigh, a gesture,
a glance, will serve it when words fail. Logic,
in the technical sense, may snap short in its hands
— but it will throw itself unarmed, except by its
own enthusiasm, upon the resisting will. And

96 THE PROPER OBJECT

it never tires. Its perseverance is wonderful.
It grows stronger by wrestling with difficulties
— acquires some increase of dexterity in every
defeat. Upon the party addressed, this vivid reali-
zation of, and ardent attachment to, the truth
enforced upon him, produce the deepest impres-
sion. All feeling is contagious in proportion to
its intensity. The glow of a soul intent upon
persuading another, warms into susceptibility the
usually careless — and the expostulation or entreaty
which comes to us coloured with the deep hue
of the heart, are the most likely to awaken a
suitable response. It is thus that God has consti-
tuted our nature, and upon the basis of this consti-
tution he has framed his arrangements for the
promulgation of the gospel. " Saints," as they
are termed in Scripture, men of faith, persons
who themselves have learned the secret of reve-
lation, and have caught its spirit, willing and
loving subjects under the reign of Christ, who,
like their Lord, would have all men change their
minds and come to the acknowledgment of the
truth — these, one and all, and only these, are
God's appointed agents for exhibiting and wield-
ing the moral force of his remedial dispensation.
That ever sane men should have imagined other-
wise, is a melancholy proof of the extent to which
the genius of Christianity has been overlooked
or misunderstood — but that a professed teacher

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 97

of this divine system should, in this nineteenth
century, justify inequality in the distribution of
clerical incomes, on the ground that a few high
prizes are necessary to lure noblemen into the
service of the sanctuary, displays such a sordid
perversion of God's method of proceeding, and
such stupid insensibility to the nature and scope
of the evangelic system, as to reflect utter disgrace
upon the Church which could recognise the
validity of his ministry.

There remains one more feature of God's plan
for bringing to bear upon the minds of men
the moral power of the gospel. He has arranged
for the dispensation of his truth, not only by
men who sympathize with, and submit to, its
claims, but by such men in organized association
— by Churches. As in other respects, so in this,
he has consulted the laws which his own wisdom
had stamped upon our nature. It can hardly
be necessary to dwell upon the well-known influ-
ence of companionship in the prosecution of any
important enterprise, whether for good or evil.
Vice grows most rank in the neighbourhood
and atmosphere of vice — virtue flourishes most
when in close contact with virtue. The burning
coals when heaped together glow with intenser
heat than when divided. The shivered particles
of a mirror, scattered over a limited surface, may
give back, in sparkles, at innumerable points, the

H

98 THE PROPER OBJECT

sunlight which falls upon them — but it is when
combined into one consistent whole that they
reflect the fullest blaze of radiance. When mind
meets mind upon some common ground, and by
actual communion they become one, each glows
with augmented ardour — previous impressions are
deepened — faith becomes more confident — hope
more expectant — love more affectionate — earnest-
ness more earnest. It is a peculiarity of oiu:
constitution, that when men, in pursuit of some
common object, meet together, the feelings of each
will acquire the depth and intensity which charac-
terise all. The standard of sincerity, zeal and
devotedness, is thenceforth elevated in respect of
every individual, to the pitch which it attains
in the associated body. And that which thus
naturally improves itself, which stirs up its own
fire, and blows it into a hotter flame, becomes,
by the self-same process, immensely more potent
in its influence upon others, radiates its light to
a greater distance, and flashes truth upon con-
sciences to which, otherwise, no beam would have
succeeded in penetrating.

Two ends of great importance seem to have
been designed, and are unquestionably promoted,
by the organized association of Christian men, in
Churches — both of which bear upon the mission
with which they are charged — one aff'ecting them-
selves, the other relating more especially to their

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 99

work. Mutual converse and watchfulness, united
contemplation and worship, tend to mature in
them that change of disposition in reference to the
spiritual government of God by Christ, which first
put their sympathies in harmony with the divine
law. The knowledge they have acquired needs
to be enlarged — the choice they have made needs
to be confirmed — the love begotten in their hearts
needs to be strengthened by appropriate exercise,
and the altered current of their feelings, to work
out for themselves a channel of settled habits and
principles. They are consequently linked together
by relationships, and placed in a sphere of mutual
dependencies and duties, calculated to bring out
into active play, in association with personal con-
nexions and interests, all the tastes, susceptibilities,
affections, and powers which an appreciation of
the gospel never fails to originate. The founda-
tion of a new character towards God having been
laid in a grateful acquiescence in the truth dis-
closed to them by the gospel, they are to build
upon it whatever is congenial with its nature —
and that the work may proceed mth ease, rapidity,
and success, they are ranged into groups of
companionship for the study, cultivation, and
exercise of everything "pertaining to life and god-
liness."

The other end promoted by association relates,
as I have intimated, to the appointed work of the

H 2

100 THE PROPER OBJECT

Churches — the persuasion of men, by the exhi-
bition of revealed truth, to become fellow-subjects
with themselves of the government of Christ.
How it conduces to this end may be perceived at
a glance. Besides the additional strength which
it contributes to a common spirit, character, and
purpose, the fervoiu' which it nourishes, and the
general elevation of all the moral qualities affect-
ing the determination of the will which it
secures, upon which we have already remarked,
it is attended by other advantages of a high order.
It concentrates wisdom, and it distributes power.
It collects from as wide a surface of knowledge,
talent, and experience, as possible, for counsel —
and by systematic apportionment of labour, it
economizes action, and makes it tell to the fullest
extent. Union in all that pertains to the direction
of enterprise is strength — subdivision in all that
pertains to the prosecution of it is tributary to
success. A common stock into which each may cast
his mite is likely to result in the best plans — a
separate sphere in which each may employ his
powers is equally conducive to perfect efficiency
in exertion. Mutual trust is necessary to the one
— cheerful subordination to the other. In the
first case individuality merges into what is common
to all — in the last, the common purpose of all
distributes itself among separate individualities.
The arrangement, indeed, is beautifully illustrative

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 101

of what we often meet with elsewhere — the law
of mutual action and reaction. The Church
as a whole, and every member of it as a com-
ponent part of it, receives to give, and in giving
receives. It is blessed that it may be a blessing
— and when most abundant in dispensing good,
it realizes most profit and joy in the fruit of it.
Each has a portion of its life and efficiency in all
— and all in each. Christ, the image of the invisible
God, is the Head — and from him " the whole body,
fitly joined together, and compacted by that which
every joint supplieth, according to the effectual
working in the measure of every part, maketh
increase of the body, unto the edifying of itself
in love."

I mention, and content myself with barely
mentioning, as the last feature in this arrange-
ment for the application of gospel truth, Provi-
dential co-operation, and the work of the Holy
Spirit. AU important as are these agencies, and
fitting as it is that we should recognise them,
supplicate them, expect them, they are so mani-
festly under the immediate direction of the
Supreme, that it falls not within the scope of my
present design to dwell upon them. It may
suffice to express my conviction that they are
neither uncertain, nor arbitrary — and that they
bear the same relation to the spu'itual success
of the Church's activity and earnestness in the

102 THE PROPER OBJECT

promulgation of truth, as rain and sunshine, and
the communication of Divine energy, do to the
quickening and growth of good seed, sown upon
a good soil. In each case God works according
to fixed laws — and under those laws, the infusion
of life by him through the means he has
appointed, is as certain in the spiritual as in the
physical kingdom.

In the foregoing rough and rapid outline of the
New Testament economy, what special work the
Churches are instituted to do, and the resources of
which they are to avail themselves for its perform-
ance, will, I hope, be distinctly apprehended.
Under the supreme authority of Jesus Christ, who
is appointed Head of the dispensation, they are
organized into kindred and fraternal associations,
with a view to reproduce in other minds that
sympathy with Divine government which a realiza-
tion of God's message to mankind in the gospel
has awakened in their own. Their business is to
multiply the willing subjects of the Son of God —
to lure the hearts of men into submission to his
rule — and, of coui'se, to do this, for in no other
way can it be done, by instruction and persuasion.
That system of truth which is most expressively
and emphatically designated " the gospel " — that
which exhibits the Universal Ruler employing his
unlimited authority in working out deliverance
for those who have repudiated it, accomplishing

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 103

his benign purpose at an inconceivable expense
of voluntary suiFering, and, thereby, placing on
the ground of grateful good-will that submission
to his authority which he might rightfully have
enforced by his power — that manifestation of
himself and of his gracious designs which we
have in the person, character, life, and death, of
his Son — that is the single instrument given to
the Churches to wield. It sufficed to make them
what they are — liegemen of Christ. It wiU suffice
to enhst under the same Lord the whole world.
That constitutes the picture of the Sovereign
against whose rule the human family are in revolt.
To commend that to others, to place it under
notice, to point out its attractions, to interpret the
mind of which it is a representation, and, in
general, to display it in such a setting of moral
purity and disinterested benevolence, as to win
for it, or rather, for Him of whom it is a copy,
trusting, loving, obedient hearts — this is the
glorious object of Christian Churches — and this
the moral power given them to wield. In what
spirit, then, should they carry on the sublime
enterprise ? What, in order to large success, ought
to be the prominent, the unmistakeable features
of their character amongst men'? What should
every Church, not merely be, but be seen to be,
be felt to be, to make its mission prosperous?
For a becoming and efficient discharge of its

104 THE PROPER OBJECT

functions, as bearing to a world of moral in-
surgents, a proposal of reconciliation, what ought
to be its air, its deportment, its temper, its reputa-
tion] This satisfactorily ascertained, and surely
there can be no difficulty in ascertaining it in the
light of the preceding observations, we shall possess
a standard of measurement with which to compare
or contrast Christian Churches, as they exist, at
the present day, in Great Britain. The reply will
need but few words, and with these we may fitly
close this department of our inquiry.

Interest in the maintenance of the Di\ine rights
—interest in the promotion of man's welfare
— and faith in the gospel as the means to both ; or,
otherwise stated, sympathy with the Moral Ruler — ■
sympathy for his revolted subjects — and sympathy
with the system on and by which he is acting to
win them back — seem to me to comprehend the
main features of spirit which every Church should
display. A remark or two on each will be all I
deem it necessary to offer.

A deep, uniform, unflagging interest in the
maintenance of the Divine rights should pro-
minently characterise every Cluistian Church. To
secure for him that which is due to him — the
willing, reverent, grateful homage of his intelli-
gent creatures upon earth — to conquer theii* indis-
position to yield up their spirits to his sway — and
to lead them to the adoption of such views of

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 105

what he is, and what he is about, as will quaHfy
them to take pleasure in his government — ^is the
drift of that gospel which the Chui'ches of Christ
are instituted to display and to commend. How
can they be expected to succeed in alluring the
sympathies of men indifferent or averse to this end,
unless they, charged with the mission of working
conviction and persuasion in the minds of others,
are themselves obviously at one with their enter-
prise ? As a general rule, heart can only be won
by heart. An association of men for the promotion
of loyalty in a distracted state, would exert no
very appreciable influence, save as loyalty radiated
from them, as from a centre, and showed itself as
the conspicuous, active, governing sentiment of the
body. A Church, in like manner, should make
itself felt, throughout the entire circle of its in-
fluence, not merely as an interpreter of a certain
scheme of spiritual truth, but as a consecrated
champion for the moral government of Christ —
the reign, over human hearts, of Him the great
objects of whose kingdom are, righteousness, peace,
love, joy. Nothing is more characteristic of the
apostolic Churches than this. To say that they
were not, in their general spirit, and in the in-
fluence of their ow^n example, at variance with,
or unconcerned about, the main object of their
enterprise, would be no correct description of the
moral aspect they present to us. Loyalty to Jesus

106 THE PROPER OBJECT

Christ as the Lord of their souls, was not merely
with them a sentiment — it was a ruling passion.
They rejoiced in the display of it in the face of
discouragement, scorn, danger, death. There was
an eagerness in them, a chivalrous impatience, to
show their colours to the world. They left it no
room for the possibility of doubt or mistake
on this head. What prmciples of conduct to
God and man they had espoused for themselves,
and longed and laboured to see dominant in every
heart, society round about them not only might
know, but coidd not help knowing. In the appli-
cation of these principles they might occasionally
err. In the interpretation of God's will, they
were not exempt from mistakes. But that Jesus
Christ, as the image of the invisible God, and
as the appointed Head of the remedial dispensa-
tion, was the Prince whom they loved, honoured,
and served, and in the extension and triumph of
whose rule their whole souls were absorbed, was
manifest in all their proceedings. Churches were
then, what they should be at all times and every-
where, the sanctuaries of rightness, as rightness —
homes to which truth was welcomed because it
is truth — ^justice, because it is justice — goodness,
because it is goodness — or rather, because they
come from God, have his impress upon them, and
tend to him. Sympathy with the mind of their
Master, earnest and active desire that his views

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 107

may become paramount, his purpose accomplished,
and the law of his love a law to every heart,
ought to constitute, far more than any peculiarity
of organization, or any logical precision of creed,
the prominent characteristic of every Church.
There should go forth from it, as from a clump
of violets, a fragrance all its own — and loyalty to
Heaven should be the pervading element of it.
Wherever placed, surrounded by whatever social
atmosphere, and however tried by the bearing
towards it of the outer world, there should be as
the result of its influence a general conviction that
aU right things — all things of which it may be
confidently said, " Thus God would have it," will,
as a matter of course, find entertainment and
encouragement there. The judgment of the world
in respect of these associated bodies, these lodges
of spiritual brotherhood, ought to run in this
wise — "They are garrisons for God. Nothing
beUeved to be at variance with his will, however
agreeable, however flattering, however universally
sanctioned, can hope for protection within their
precincts — nothing thought to be an expression
of his mind, need fear repudiation, or even neglect.
Subordination to his appointments is their ruling
idea — the one sentiment which governs all their
feelings and all theii- movements. This is, in
fact, the bond of their association — and every
object which addresses itself to them, is sure of

108 THE PROPER OBJECT

being looked at in the light of this central prin-
ciple of theirs." They are societies for the
furtherance of the reign of Christ over human
hearts. They are instituted to promote the
ascendency of all that ought to be, over all that
is — and intense sympathy with oughtness, if I may
so express it, as the supreme law of thought,
affection, and deed, is indispensably requisite to an
adequate and successful discharge of their glorious
mission.

Hardly less appropriate is it to the nature of
their enterprise, or less conducive to its efficient
prosecution, that the Churches exhibit a constant
and lively interest in the well-being of man. Sym-
pathy with the gospel there cannot be, unaccom-
panied by sympathy for the race whose rescue
from moral ruin the gospel contemplates. Indeed,
nothing is more distinctive of revealed truth, than
a spirit of thorough humanity. Gentleness, dis-
interestedness, benevolence, are characteristics of
Christianity which it is impossible to overlook.
She asks nothing but love, and she gives that she
may have. Amid the wrecks which the fierce
passions of human nature have strewed up and
down this world, she moves with light step and
ready hand to minister consolation. It is obvious
to all who study her, that there where wretched-
ness is, and anguish, and despair, she loves to
sit down and wipe away the silent tear, and bind

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 109

up the broken heart. To bless, to " do good and
communicate," is her one avowed object in this
world. Unasked, and unexpected, she originally-
sped her flight earthward to seek out man in
misery, and to relieve him, and her whole bearing
is in exquisite harmony with her purpose. Soft,
sweet, insinuating, but withal most potent, she
approaches, in unassuming attire, the abode of
sick and sorrowing humanity — gently lifts the
latch of our dilapidated nature — speaks pityingly
and in soothing accents — and, having surprised
the fainting and guilt-ridden spirit into peace and
hope by a kiss of forgiveness, opens her store of
inestimable blessings, and bids it welcome to the
best. And the Churches, if they would commend
her undertaking, should be like her. Friendliness
to man ought to be an attribute as conspicuous in
them as it was in their Lord — and, as in his case,
it should show itself, not only in relation to ends
which man cannot recognise and appreciate, but
to those also which he can. They shoidd be
known everywhere for the spontaneity, activity,
and universality of their good will. Their repu-
tation should be such as to attract towards them
the first glances of sorrow in search of com-
miseration, and to excite the first hopes of the
oppressed yearning to pour out their wrongs into
a sympathizing bosom. Grief should be confident
that it may cast itself unreservedly upon their

110 THE PROPER OBJECT

kindliness, sure of compassionate regard even
when most uncertain of aid. And the outcasts
of society — those whose deep degradation sinks
them below the reach of the world's pity — the
hopelessly forlorn, whose habitual and forced lone-
liness of misery has worn out in them the disposi-
tion to weep, and whose nature sin and woe have
converted into an arid desert — should be made to
feel that there are yet hearts to bleed for them,
and hands to help them, in every Christian Church.
Oh! if it were but so — if, instead of the self-
complacency which steps aside from the polluted,
more careful to express its own disgust, than to
awaken genuine repentance, our Churches went
in search of those whom the world consigns to
neglect and mfamy — if it was generally felt that
as there is no abyss of human wretchedness into
which their love cannot penetrate, so there is no
method of elevating man's condition and character
which, to the extent of their ability, they are not
anxious to employ — if, in the place of a formal,
frigid, sectarian, theological benevolence, they
evinced a frank, warm, unselfish, untechnical
interest in all that concerns the happiness of our
race — if they were, as they ought to be, well-
heads of consolation, not alone to select sufferers,
but to suffering of every sort, and active auxiliaries
of good, not in a special line only, but in any
and every legitimate line — in short, if their love

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. Ill

to man, the direct offspring of their love to God,
were intent upon expressing itself whenever and
wherever opportunity offers, in little things as
well as great, in temporal as well as spiritual
blessings, towards the friendless as towards the
powerful, by the wayside where none can witness,
as well as in the temple, or at the corner of the
street where many look on approvingly — with
what an irresistible power would the gospel come
from their lips ! And such the Churches ought
to be, and ought to be universally reputed. He
whom they represent was jeeringly spoken of by
proud formalism as " the friend of publicans and
sinners." Hence, "the common people heard him
gladly." Whenever the Churches earn a like re-
proach, they may expect to be rewarded by a hke
success. The sympathy of the messenger will
attract sympathy to the message.

Complete harmony between the spirit of the
Churches, and the mission entrusted to them,
cannot be considered to exist in the absence of
an unwavering confidence in the persuasiveness
of the gospel, and implicit trust in the sufficiency
of the Divine plan to work out the Divine
purpose. We repeat the statement once more
— for it is the single pivot upon which our
views revolve — that the economy of Christ is an
economy whose ultimate reference is exclusively
to the will of man. The sole virtue of the sub-

112 THE PROPER OBJECT

jection which it is designed to bring about, is,
that it is rendered . by deliberate choice. The
business of the Churches, therefore, is to woo
the hostile to free and heartfelt acquiescence in
God's proposal of reconciliation. We have already-
seen how the proposal is shaped with a view to
secure this happy result — and we now go on
to observe that it is in the last degree important,
that they by w^hose instrumentality the proposal
is tendered, should exhibit a thorough sympathy
wdth the distinctive character of their mission,
and should so bear themselves in the discharge
of it, as to leave upon the minds of all to whom
they address themselves a correct and vivid im-
pression of this peculiarity of the gosj)el. All their
methods should be winning rather than coercive
— should embody a frank and unhesitating appeal
to reason, conscience, gratitude, rather than an
application of compulsory force — and should in-
terpret themselves to the apprehension of the
insurgent parties by the inviting phrase of " will
you V rather than by the imperative one of " you
shall." Individuals and Churches are prone to
act as though they believed that there is a shorter
way to success than that marked out by the great
Author of the Christian scheme. Experience has
proved them mistaken. But prior to all experience
the nature of things, if dispassionately looked at,
might have sufficed to expose the error. Stringent

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 113

regulations may bind the conduct — but of what
sort must be the stringency which binds the heart 1
In the ordinary affairs of human life, instinct and
common sense usually answer the question cor-
rectly. Where the object is to get the better of
alienated affections, and to prevail upon, not the
tongue merely, but the will, to say " Yes " to a
demand, we assume a deportment, we offer con-
siderations, we adopt a strain of reasoning, in
keeping with the end we seek. We study to
give prominence, not to law, but to love. We
throw ourselves upon honour, generosity, magna-
nimity, gratitude — upon any emotion of a con-
ciliatory tendency. We are gentle, patient, for-
bearing. Our air is one of tenderness. Disappro-
bation is evinced " more in sorrow than in anger "
— and rebuke gleams in our tears rather than
lowers in our frowns. And when we have an
unfaltering belief that the object to which we seek
to win over a hearty consent, is one which deserves
and will amply repay it, we do that common justice
to its character to allow it to speak for itself.
We show that we have some reliance on the good-
ness of the cause we plead, and we cherish an
anxiety to obtain for it nothing more than " a clear
stage and no favour." Ought not the Churches
of Christ, paying due regard to the scope of their
enterprise, to carry themselves in a like manner'?
Their mission is to the heart on behalf of the best

Il4 THE PROPER OBJECT

of all beings, and the burden of the message they
are appointed to deliver and to commend is power-
fully alluring to the noblest of human sympathies.
Can any seriously doubt as to the tone and temper
in which they should aim to give it effect ? Are
menace or denunciation suited to the occasion ?
Will distrust of the suasive influence of God's
truth be likely to present it in the most attractive
light 1 And if the " good tidings," as they are
well called, work not on to all the issues in man's
character and conduct, designed by Him who sent,
and Him who brought them, is it probable that
their power over the affections "vvill be increased
by being edged round with imperative regulations,
or thrust upon attention by coercive arrangements 1
For Christian Churches to betray any misgivings
as to the inherent vitality and power of that truth
which they take to represent the mind of God,
and to attempt to supply the deficiency by supple-
mentary provisions having more or less the force
of law, is to inflict an injury upon it just where
injuiy is most disastrous. It surely becomes them
to place the most entire reliance on the persuasive,
the self-sustaining, and the reproductive energy of
every thought born of God — to be no further
careful respecting its perpetuity than may suffice
to prompt their own earnest efforts in its behalf —
to trust, with simple but immovable faith in the
all-conquering might of the system over which

AND MEANS OF THE CHURCH. 115

their Master presides — to strew their " bread-corn
upon the waters " without fear as to its springing
up a living crop " after many days." Is not every
doctrine, every precept, every institution which
Heaven has sanctioned, safe in the keeping of the
Universal Ruler ] Is not its destiny identified
with fixed and immutable laws? Has it not im-
mortality in its own bosom "? Are not all the
elements of moral good inseparably allied with it,
so that as they get clear of human misapprehen-
sions and perversities, it must share in their
triumph? Are there not legions of invisible
agencies — invisible, however, only because of gross
unbelief — commissioned by God himself to pioneer
a road for it to victory ? To these, and all kindred
inquiries, the attitude taken by the Churches of
Christ, ought to present an impressive afiirmatory
reply.

I have now said all that my limits will admit
of my saying on what the Churches have to do,
what means are given them wherewith to do it,
and in what spirit those means ought to be
employed in order to success. We have now a
standard, more or less accurate, by which to
measure their present efiiciency. We have seen
what they should be — we have yet to see what
they are. The investigation will be proceeded
with in the next chapter.

I 2

OHAPTEE III.

RELIGION OF THE BRITISH CHURCHES.

CONTENTS.

REASONABLE ANTICIPATIONS OF THE CHURCHES' SUCCESS — NOT
REALIZED IN EXISTING FACTS — FEEBLENESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE IN
THE BRITISH CHURCHES — PLAN ADOPTED FOR EXHIBITING IT —
god's RIGHTS THE MAIN END OF THE GOSPEL — IMPORTANCE OF SO
REGARDING THEM — COMMONLY CONSIDERED SECONDARY TO MAN's
SAFETY AND HAPPINESS — PRACTICAL FRUITS OF THE ERROR SEEN
IN THE TREATMENT OF RELIGION AS A DISTINCT BRANCH OF HUMAN
DUTY — IN THE ARBITRARY MANNER IN WHICH OBLIGATION IS
RECOGNISED— IN THE VICARIOUS DISCHARGE OF IMPORTANT RE-
SPONSIBILITIES— AND IN THE FAILING POWER OF GOSPEL TRUTH
OVER THE POPULAR MIND— SUBSTITUTION OF LAW FOR LOVE AS
THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTIANITY — EFFECTS OF THE ERROR — CONSTRAINT
— COMPROMISE— WAR WITH IRRELIGION IN ITS EXTERNAL MODI-
FICATIONS— LETTER EXALTED ABOVE SPIRIT— CONSEQUENT SECTA-
RIANISM, AND ITS ATTENDANT EVILS — CONCLUDING REMARKS.

CHAPTER III.

Veiling, for a moment, whatever knowledge we
have derived from history, of the actual progress
of Christianity in this country — putting out of
sight all we have learnt, or think we have learnt,
from observation, social intercourse, and reading,
respecting the present character and condition of
the British Churches — with our minds asleep as
to facts, whether past or passing, and awake only
as to probabilities, based upon the considerations
dwelt upon in the foregoing chapter — our descrip-
tion of the achievements wrought, and of the
position won, by Christian organizations, might
reasonably be expected to resemble a triumphal
march, or a magnificent ovation. Everything
hitherto brought under notice concurs in exciting
the most confident anticipations. The enmity to
be subdued is, indeed, deep-seated in human
nature, and inveterate — but the moral aptitude
of the means devised for effecting its overthrow

120 RELIGION OF THE

and destruction, displays so profound an insight
into human motives, such a mastery of boundless
resources, and a purpose of beneficence so impos-
sible of being turned aside, that the idea of difii-
culty vanishes before that of irresistible power.
A survey of the work to be done, if accurately
taken, might overwhelm the most confident with
despair — a glance at the arrangements made by
God for achieving it, might inspire the most
despondent with confidence. Just as, looking only
at an impediment proposed to be removed by
mechanical appliances and engineering skill, we
sometimes pronounce that impossible which, when
all the preparations are completed, we allow to
be not only feasible but easy, so, thoroughly appre-
ciating the gospel of Christ as an expedient for
re-establishing the Divine sway over a rebellious
race, the depravity of their will, an otherwise
insurmountable obstacle, appears as if already
virtually conquered. Can means so likely fail?
is the question uppermost in our minds. Wielded,
as they were meant to be, by organized associations
of men in harmony with their spirit, can even the
most determined hostility long hold out against
them ? Will not the men who have learnt the
secret of revealed truth, who have caught its
meaning, and have gladly yielded tlieir souls to
its claims, hold in their hands the keys of the
world's destiny ? Will they not have learned the

BRITISH CHURCHES. 121

approach to each man's heart ? Can they not
carry the colours of their Sovereign into the very
citadel of alienation, and wage the contest for
him from a position which would seem to render
protracted defiance a miracle of perversity'? In
the freshness of those feelings which the first
recognition of the "good tidings" excites, such
inquiries, naturally suggesting their own answer,
occur to most men. Is the spontaneous reply
furnished by each man's experience of the change
wrought upon his own spuit so wide of the mark
as it is commonly supposed to be? To demonstrate
that it is, surely it is not sufficient to show that each
is compelled in the end to confess that " old Adam
is too strong for young Melancthon." It may be
so — but it is to be taken into account that God's
plan supposes the action and influence, not merely
of isolated individuals, but of organized commu-
nities. Were Churches uniformly, in all that lends
efficiency to their ministration, what they should
be — would the gospel, as a system of spiritual
persuasion, falter in its career % In a word, is
the divinely fashioned instrument at fault, or they
to whom its use has been entrusted I When the
depravity of man's nature is assigned as the reason
for the comparatively slow progress of Christianity,
it is forgotten that this was the precise evil which
it was framed to subdue, and that the excuse
pleaded is nothing less than a covert impeachment

122 RELIGION OF THE

of the adequacy of the means devised by Infinite
Wisdom. If the result be traced to the absence of
the Holy Spirit, we must suppose, contrary to all
the analogies furnished us by the physical world,
that he works arbitrarily, that he is regulated by
no fixed plan, and that his operations have no
regard to the adaptation of means to ends, which
is one of the most pervading and beautiful charac-
teristics of the entire remedial economy. Reverent
views of God's perfections and character forbid the
attempt to fasten any part of the inefficiency of the
great moral expedient upon either want of skill, or
caprice of benevolent purpose, in him. There were,
doubtless, sufficient reasons apparent to the Eternal
Mind for committing the dispensation of his reme-
dial provision to men, to Churches, in preference to
any other order of intelligent beings — but the
faithlessness of Churches to their trust cannot be
set down as the effect of an irresistible necessity.
The uninterrupted success of the Divine plan was
made dependent upon their fidelity. They might
have developed all its wondrous power. Com-
mended by their consistency, the system of truth
given them to exhibit to an alien world, would
have achieved a progressive and never-failing series
of victories. Individuals, households, neighbour-
hoods, provinces, empires, would liave been as
regularly and certainly won by its energy, as an
insurrectionary state is gradually subjugated by

BRITISH CHURCHES. 123

a well-disciplined and invincible army. Such
failure, therefore, as there may have been, must be
ascribed to something amiss in the Churches them-
selves. Were they right — right in all respects —
everything else would be right. Revealed truth
would be found apt enough for its purpose — and
the Spirit of God ready enough to discharge his
office.

No thoughtful man, it is presumed, tolerably
acquainted with the general state of religion in
Great Britain, will regard it as fairly and
adequately expressive of the spiritual power of
the gospel. I think myself warranted in assummg
thus much, without perplexing the reader with
statistics, difficult, in relation to this matter, to
collect, and comparatively worthless when collected.
The reluctant and sorrowful admissions of all
denommations possessing the means of giving a
common utterance to their opinions — the large
extent of population respecting which charity, ever
disposed to believe the best, is unable to cherish
the hope that their sympathies have been won over
to Divine government — the slow rate at which
Christian societies of any sort recruit their ranks,
considering, on the one hand, the vacancies occa-
sioned in them by defection and death, and con-
trasting it, on the other, with the rapid increase
of the people — the absence, everywhere to be
noted, of anything resembling any public impres-

124

RELIGION OF THE

sion about the Churches such as must have
resulted from a display of exuberant life or
vigour — the bare existence, not to say growth,
in some circles, of a suspicion that what we call
a revelation from God has spent its force, and that
the gospel as an agency for purifying and elevating
humanity has become effete — the very partial and
almost imperceptible degree in which the spirit of
God's truth has penetrated and modified the staple
interests of social life, politics, literature, business,
recreation, and the utter indifference to its teachings
betrayed in the ordinary intercourse and dealings
of men mth men — the evils which show themselves
in all companies unrebuked, the wrongs which re-
main unredressed, and the false and pernicious
sentiments which pass current in every class of
society — the rise, spread, and activity of old and
monstrous errors, of late exhumed from the oblivion
to which former generations had consigned them,
and subversive in their tendency of all rational
belief, either in God as a moral ruler, or in his
gospel as a moral expedient for bringing men's
souls into harmony with his rule — and last, though
not least, the insuperable difficulty, feigned in some
quarters, actually felt in others, of sustaining the
mere machinery of religious instruction and public
worship, without resorting to practices compulsory,
or semi-compulsory, in their character — these, and
many more of a similar kind which might have

BRITISH CHURCHES. 125

been enumerated, are phenomena which bear a
sadly unfavourable testimony touching the efficiency
of the British Churches. And yet, even when pre-
sented to view, as the varying shades only of one
melancholy picture, the misgiving they produce
scarcely equals that with which daily observation
of innumerable details has familiarized the minds
of the thoughtful. Indeed, the sickliness and
feebleness of embodied Christianity in this our
land, and these our times, have become a topic of
common talk amongst us, and what is worse, of
talk unaccompanied by strong emotion. All alike
are convinced that something is seriously amiss —
all seem to have an impression that a very decided
change, they scarce know what, must occur pre-
viously to any striking outburst of spiritual vitality
- — but whilst many plans of grappling with the
evil have been from time to time propounded,
none has awakened much faith, or elicited a
general exclamation of " That's it." The case,
however, is so serious in itself, and involves in it
consequences so incalculably vast and momentous,
that, if our hearts are suitably affected by it,
anxiety to contribute something towards the re-
moval of the evil will overbalance all solicitude to
avoid committing ourselves by mistaken views of
it. We can hardly feel aright in reference to this
matter, without being impelled to say what we
think of it, even at the hazard of laying ourselves

126 RELIGION OF THE

open to the charge of foolishness or presumption.
In grave crises, folly itself will sometimes suggest
a thought worthy of being pondered — and where
great interests are at stake, it is manly as well as
wise to brave the probable imputation of vanity
rather than forego a desire to render some service.

I offer the following remarks, descriptive, accord-
ing to my judgment, formed after tolerably wide
observation, and with conscientious care, of the
present state of religion in the British Churches,
with unfeigned diffidence. I may premise, that
although I entertain no doubt of the general
accuracy of the sketch I am about to exhibit, I
am quite aware that its fidelity is general only.
There will, of course, be many individuals, and
some Churches, who will be unable to recognise
in this outline a reflection of their own spiritual
image. I do not pretend to have hit off every
feature, and much less, every play of expression
on the countenance, with that exactitude and
nicety which would compel every man competent
to give an opinion deserving of deference, to pro-
nounce the likeness unmistakeable. My aim has
been to seize upon the more prominent points, and
exhibit them in a light calculated to leave upon
the mind an impression, unfinished, but not erro-
neous, of the original whose resemblance I wish to
portray. I may as well also take this opportunity
of saying, that I am very far from sympathizing

BRITISH CHURCHES. 127

with those who, looking at everything ostensibly-
religious through the medium of their own strong
dissatisfaction, can discern but one colour, and that
an intensely gloomy one. I do not believe that
all is wrong. I do not believe that the professed
embodiment of Christianity in this country, is a
mass of insincerity, unsound from skin to core.
I do not believe that all which appears to be, and
perhaps is, inconsistent amongst us with the spirit
of Christ's gospel, may be traced up at once to
sheer hypocrisy. On the contrary, I am convinced
that the common and easy cant about hypocrisy is
a gross and most ridiculous exaggeration, and that
men wear the mask much less in connexion with
religion, than in their every-day intercourse one
with another. Nor am I disposed to look for a
resuscitation of spiritual life and heroism from
novel interpretations of the Divine word. In the
main, I apprehend, the doctrines which have been
received by the Church from the apostolic age, and
are still regarded as the mind of God, will continue
to the end of time to constitute the source of
religious vitality. Much light may yet be thrown
upon the philosophy of the gospel, and many
discoveries may hereafter be made of its " open
secrets " — but I have no expectation that in regard
to the more striking and massive forms of Divine
truth, there will be any very noticeable change in
the prevailing faith. The British Churches — in

128 RELIGION OF THE

which phrase I inchide every organized association
of men for maintaining and extending the spiritual
reign of Christ — give back a real, although a some-
what confused and muffled response to the message
of love from heaven. They may display no signs
of a rude and vigorous health — but it is to be
borne in mind that even feebleness supposes life.
They may be not incorrectly represented as
dragging on from year to year, but still the repre-
sentation compels us to infer a positive effort
against decay. What they undertake may be
negligently or fitfully prosecuted — what they do
may be done rather as a task, than a grateful
exercise of spontaneous and ever-springing energy
— but in order to this there must be some con-
science towards God, some sense of obligation,
some self-denial, faith, and sympathy with good-
ness. Their condition appears to me to resemble
that of a person suffering from a general debility
of constitution, when all the vital organs are yet
substantially sound, and evincing a want of tone
the primary cause of which it is almost impossible
to detect. Such cases are not unfrequent in the
physical world. There is a sufficiency of life to
fight off threatened dissolution, though barely
enough to carry the party who owns it through
the shortest abridgment of daily duty. Mean-
while, no pleasure is found in anything. There is
wearisomeness all day, and restlessness all night —

BRITISH CHURCHES. 129

appetites almost gone, affections dwindling into the
shadows of what they were, temper fretful and
peevish, and active usefulness apparently at an end.
But men do not jump to a denial of what yet
remains to hope in such cases. Nor is it reason-
able to do so in regard to the Churches. Indeed,
even this analogy presents an exaggerated view
of their comparative sickliness and inefficiency.
They not only continue to be, but to make head,
however slowly. Their strength is not only not
entirely gone, but it improves rather than declines.
Measured by what they were five and twenty or
fifty years ago, they have gained ground in almost
all respects — are more enlightened, more earnest,
more pure, more philanthropic, than they were.
Their influence for good is more powerful — their
reputation for piety, better established. They aim
at higher things. They dispense a larger amount
and variety of blessings. They are less selfish, less
worldly. The very consciousness they have of
their own weakness is a favourable sign— for they
have been more feeble without any pervading and
constant sense of their debility. There is, there-
fore, no reason for despondency. Their state
demands solicitude, watchfulness, and decision
regulated by discrimination — but still it exhibits
some cheering promises of amendment. It is
under this impression — because I feel convinced
that the Churches would gladly ascertain the seat

130 RELIGION OF THE

of their disorder, and trace its course through all
its symptoms — that I venture, not, however, with-
out some trepidation, to submit to the reader, a
general statement of what appears to me morbid
in the character and action of our Christian
communities.

The course I propose to pursue, will render
unnecessary a minute specification of defects and
evils observable in the British Churches. I shall
fix upon three or four points which I regard as
constituting the disease in its primordial and
essential principles, and from these I shall endea-
vour to trace the malady through a sufficient
number of symptoms to familiarize the mind of
the reader with the true character and power of
the influence which produces them. By this
arrangement I hope to secure myself against the
danger of indistinctness on the one hand, and
prolixity on the other, and by pointing out the
real nature and origin of what we all deplore,
to put thought upon the right track for the dis-
covery of legitimate and unfaiHng means of cure.

An inadequate perception, and hence, a low
appreciation of the ultimate drift and purpose
of the gospel economy, I apprehend to be the
root of many of the morbid symptoms exhibited
by the British Churches. The grand consideration
which prompted the Divine Mind to devise and

BRITISH CHURCHES. 131

put in force the dispensation of which Christ
is the appointed head, should be, in order to
our thinking, feeling, willing, acting, in unison
with him, the dominant motive with us, in the
reception, study, and exemplification of revealed
truth. That we have already seen to be the
re-establishment of his moral sway over the hearts
of men. A sympathizing recognition of God's
rights as the Supreme stands first in the order
of ends to be secured by the Gospel— and our
happiness, as the consequence, stands next to, and
below it. The due exaltation of God precedes
the deliverance and safety of man. Government
comes first — the advantages of government after-
wards. Taking Scripture as our guide, we should
say that the idea constantly in the ascendant,
and made paramount to all others, is the first
to which the angels gave utterance, in announc-
ing the birth of Jesus, " Glory to God in the
highest." The pivot upon which the remedial
economy turns, is the reduction of what is, to
what ought to be. Rightness is the centre of
gravity, about which the whole system revolves.
Misery is but the pain occasioned by moral dis-
order— an evil derived, dependent, subsidiary —
the hand^vriting of God upon the soul to warn
it that it has left its proper sphere. While we
live in him, we live in felicity — but to live in
him, that is, to make his pleasure the meaning

k2

132 RELIGION OF THE

and end of our existence, is the thing to be con-
cerned about, and felicity will follow. The gospel,
I think, proceeds throughout upon the assumption
of the immense superiority, in God's view, of
being what and where we ought to be, over the
inseparable consequence of it, peace and joy.
God, all in all, and we in him, is its exclusive
purport — he the essential, we the accidents only
— he, the all-comprehending, we merely the com-
prehended— ^he the soul, we simply devices by
which he expresses himself.

In what has been just advanced, I am quite
aware that there is nothing new. But it is worth
investigation, whether a practical forgetfulness of
it, be not at the bottom of much, very much,
that the Churches suffer under and lament. I
believe that it is. I apprehend that, in our read-
ing of God's message, man occupies the first place
in our attention, God^ a subordinate one. The
grand purport of it, as we receive it, cherish it,
promulgate it, is human rather than divine — has
respect to our safety more than to his rights —
constitutes our happiness the goal of the gospel,
and subjection to God merely a necessary mode
of arriving at it. If the fact be so — and perhaps
they whose observation has been most careful and
most extensive will be the readiest to corroborate
the surmise — it will materially serve our present
purpose to ascertain its real significance, and trace

BRITISH CHURCHES. 133

its influence upon the spiritual condition of the
British Churches. If I mistake not, it will be
found the key to a great deal that is now regarded
as perplexing and mysterious.

There is an essential difference, both in kind
and in effect, between the contemplation of excel-
lence itself, and the contemplation of the advantages
which may accrue to us from it. The last is the
too exclusive exercise of religious people in the
present day — the full moral power of the gospel
can only be realized by means of the first. It
must be allowed, indeed, that our most vivid im-
pressions of Divine excellence are produced by
those illustrations of it which come to us fraught
with blessings to ourselves — but it is not the less
true that the point of contact between our souls
and God, the ground whereupon we mingle our
sympathies with his, and become absorbed into,
and identified with, him, is higher up than any
desire of personal benefit can carry us. The
character of God, considered as such, of which
Christianity is but a reflection, although the
clearest and the brightest, may, and should be,
the home, the ultimate place of repose, to our
intuitions and affections. He who does us good
is a worthier object of study and regard than the
good which he does us. The message of love
which discloses to us so much of the mind of
him who sent it, and which, after all, is nothing

134 RELIGION OF THE

less nor more, than a fitting expression of himself,
can hardly be imagined to have accomplished its
highest ends, if the thoughts and emotions which
it awakens in our hearts relate principally, not
to what he is, but to what we gain. The
miniature of an absent friend should not attract
to itself, to the style of its execution, the freshness
of its colouring, or the richness of the frame in
which it is set, the attention which it was meant
to point to the individual portrayed. Why have
we moral powers, but that we should rejoice in
moral glory, for its own sake 'i AU analogy leads
us to the conclusion, that things are valuable to
mind only as they display mind. We study nature
to a comparatively low purpose, if our investiga-
tions are carried on in a predominantly utihtarian
spirit — we see in her in such case merely a ready
and ingenious handmaid to our gratification — and
the laws according to which she works, and
which are, when rightly viewed, pictorial illus-
trations of the Creator, are productive of much
the same order of interest as that excited in our
minds by an ingenious process of cookery, or the
well-devised regulations of a large tailoring esta-
blishment. So also with regard to the conduct
of our fellow-creatures. The love which looks
more intently upon the kindly deeds done by
another for our advantage, than upon what is
worthy in him who performs them, which delights

BRITISH CHURCHES. 135

in the object of it, not for his sake, but chiefly for
its own, which never reaches to the elevation of
self-forgetfulness, and which prizes every mani-
festation of good-will rather for what it is than
what it indicates, is not generally considered de-
serving of a place in the catalogue of virtuous
emotions. But if anywhere we ought to rise from
a state of complacency in benefits received to one
of pure and disinterested delight in the excellence
of the being by whom they are conferred, and
value them mainly as they show forth his praise,
surely it is in our response to the gospel. Let not
this be treated as impracticable. If it be, Chris-
tianity itself is a failure, for the avowed, object of
Christianity is to prevail upon and enable us to
" love God, with all the heart, with all the soul,
with all the mind, and with all the strength."
But, in my judgment at least, the very opposite
of this is the case. It is not only true that men
can admire, sympathize with, rejoice in, and resign
themselves to, transcendant moral excellence for
its own sake, but that, until they do so, the ultimate
purpose of the gospel is frustrated as far as they
are concerned. There may be selfishness even in
piety — there is also a character of piety far above
selfishness. Is it impossible to attain, is it difficult
to conceive of, a spiritual state in which the soul
shall gaze upon the surpassing loveliness of God,
as imaged in his Son, and shall experience the

136

RELIGION OF THE

highest rapture of which, while yet in the flesh,
it is capable, in passing beyond all reference to
its own condition, and rejoicing in the unspeakable
perfection of the Divine Nature 1 As natural
taste delights in natural beauty, quite indepen-
dently of its relation to our own circumstances,
so, surely, may spiritual powers and sympathies
find their highest satisfaction in the contemplation
of spiritual excellence, apart from any bearing it
may have upon our personal history or prospects.
In other and lower spheres we can derive pleasure
from the apprehension of lightness, merely because
it is rightness, and need not that it be developed
in deeds beneficial to ourselves, in order to com-
placency and esteem. There are human characters
in which we take the liveliest interest, every aspect
of wliich we watch with fond solicitude, over which
when the slightest shade passes we are moved
with grief, and upon all the sunny regions of which
we love to linger with passionate sympathy — and
yet, perhaps, such characters are those of men
whom we have never seen, and whom we never
hope to see, who never conferred upon us a single
favour, and from whom favour towards ourselves
personally can never be anticipated. And this
satisfaction and joy in what is morally lovely for
its own loveliness sake, irrespectively of advantage
accruing or not accruing from it to ourselves,
shadows forth correctly, even if inadequately, the

BRITISH CHURCHES. 137

ability of the soul to take pure delight in God.
That he is what he is, that he has unveiled so
much of his splendour as we may see in his
works and word, that " he is light and in him
is no darkness at all," that he comprehends all
excellence, is the centre and source of all glory,
the original love of which all other love is but
a feeble and glimmering reflection — cannot re-
newed man find ineffable satisfaction in this "?
About this glorious Being, were but attention
mainly directed to him, and less exclusively
occupied with the favours he dispenses, might not
all our faculties range themselves, and, in adoring
wonder, glory in the assurance that he is all in all I
And as true love, forgetful of all else, all ordinary
joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, cleaves to its
object, fondly hangs upon it, and would fain lose
all consciousness but the consciousness of its attrac-
tions, so life towards God, in its maturer deve-
lopments, merges all self-reference, in a more
disinterested, nobler, more satisfying reference to
him alone. Then, at last, and only then, all the
powers of the spiritual man find ample scope
for play — then, and only then, in the full signi-
ficance of the expression, he lives in God, and
God in him, and the depth and purity of his joy
forbid the pollution or disturbance of it by any
trivial causes, or for more than a transient and
momentary interval.

138 RELIGION OF THE

The religion of our day seems to me to be
specially wanting in this which should be its
prime characteristic. It leaves self paramount still.
It concerns itself primarily, and almost exclusively,
with personal safety. And the salvation which
it searches after, receives, exhibits, and enforces,
is summed up in three words, " the greatest pos-
sible happiness." Looked at from this point of
view, the great truths of the gospel lose much
of their grandeur, more than half their signifi-
cance, and by far the greater part of their assi-
milating power. The emotions awakened are a
response to a recognition of incalculable advan-
tage gained, not of glorious moral character per-
ceived and appreciated. We change not so much
our end, as our mode of pursuing it. The reve-
lation of God is not the main purport of our
gospel, but the elevation of man. Admiration
of him is second to delight in our own destiny.
If, as we contend, the words of our Lord, " He
that loseth his life, findeth it," will bear a larger
and weightier meaning than that usually imposed
upon them — if, in order to the highest exaltation
and enjoyment of our being, there must be a
previous surrender of our being, so that it shall
be not so much that we live, as that Christ lives
in us — if, in fine, " the kingdom of God" is to
constitute our one object, and the benefit to our-
selves of his rule merely what is " added to us" —

BRITISH CHURCHES. 139

then as such is not the general understanding
of the Churches, we are driven upon the con-
clusion that the reHgious spirit by which they
are animated is anything but a full and appro-
priate reflection of the mind of the Supreme.
Rightness, it is true, cannot even in thought be
separated from happiness — but the first stands to
the last in the relation of the sun to the day.
Considered as the ends of human action, but
particularly of Christian life and movement, the
distinction between them is immensely important.
The practical consequences of substituting the
effect for the cause in this matter are not only
serious, but make themselves visible in every
du'ection. Like an error in the first figures of an
intricate calculation, it vitiates all the subsequent
results. It merely refines selfishness instead of
destroying it — puts the creature in the place of the
Creator — draws attention to what we are or may
be, rather than to what he is — exercises but inci-
dentally and feebly the nobler faculties of our
moral nature — and forms our character upon a
model as low as may be consistent with our per-
sonal escape from condemnation with the wicked.

As we have already hinted, this defective appre-
hension of the main scope of Christianity is any-
thing but practically harmless. In truth, it is the
prolific parent of many, and most deplorable evils.
Adhering to the plan I have mapped out for

140 RELIGION OF THE

myself, I shall not pretend to enumerate them, but
present a few specimens only, sufficient, however,
to leave on the mind a clear impression of the
class to which they belong. Of these I put in
the foremost rank, the prevailing habit of consti-
tuting religion a distinct and separate engagement
from the ordinary pursuits of life. To an extent,
greater, perhaps, than at first blush the reader would
be inclined to admit, it is cultivated as a branch of
the whole duty of man — an affair of the last im-
portance, it is true, but one which has its own
proper place, and demands its own share of atten-
tion and effort. The body has to be fed and
clothed — the soul has to be saved — so much is
considered due to each, and each is followed as
an unconnected and independent Hue of care and
activity. This asks industry — that, study and de-
votion. The counting-house, the store, the shop,
the market, are the appropriate places for the one
— the closet, the family altar, the prayer-meeting,
the church or chapel, those of the other. The
first has its allotted season — the last, its moiety,
or its fragments of time. Self pursues its calling
in both departments — in the one for time, in the
other for eternity. But business is not regarded
as religion — religion does not furnish the motive
for business. Hence, godliness is not so much a
life, as a specific part of it — a sort of inclosure
railed off from the entire surface of existence, for

BRITISH CHURCHES. 141

the cultivation of virtues which will not flourish
elsewhere. What is the consequence] The re-
sponse to the message of God's love is given back
rather by the formal exercises of worship, than by
the whole character of the man. There is evidence
of concern for salvation — there is but little, of deep
sympathy with God. Take the staple of the personal
history of by far the majority of those who con-
stitute our Churches ! Examine it carefully ! It
will be found, I suspect, even at best, precisely
what might have been anticipated from an exclu-
sive purpose of using the gospel as the only means
of averting the final loss of the soul. So far as
this aim dictates the regulation of business or
pleasure by divine principles, Christianity is carried
into temporal avocations — but its influence even
then is principally negative. It is allowed only
to forbid, not to suggest. It has a veto upon our
proceedings — but it does not make law. We use
it in our ordinary engagements to serve us — •
seldom, indeed, are those engagements entered
upon as service to it, or rather to its Head. All
this is compatible with the notion that Christianity
sets us upon doing something which is eventually
to issue in our eternal happiness — but could it
exist in connexion with a predominant admiration
of, and unspeakable comj)lacency in, the character
of God as exhibited in the economy of grace?
Moral excellence, in its purest, loveliest, brightest,

142 RELIGION OF THE

most impressive manifestation, cannot be studied
as such, cannot be conversed with, delighted in,
yielded to, without forming a character of which
every act, temporal or spiritual, trivial or important,
will constitute a medium of expression. To a man
moulding his tastes, affections, will, by the in-
fluence upon them of an earnestly cultivated sym-
pathy with God, all scenes furnish instruction, all
times are times of communion, all acts are acts of
religion. The manners of a courtier cannot be
laid aside as soon as he leaves the presence of his
sovereign — the life of a Christian cannot be sus-
pended or superseded when no longer engaged in
exercises of devotion. A true apprehension, a
heartfelt appreciation of God, the Uncreate, the
Perfect, the King eternal, sees in him the one
reason of everything which we can purpose, plan,
or do — and in all seasons, all avocations, all enjoy-
ments, in what we forbear as well as what we
perform, in object, law, motive, manner, places

" Him first, him last, him midst, him without end."

Quite as distinctly, and to an extent almost as
melancholy, one may see the pernicious influence
of the error we have adverted to, in the seemingly
arbitrary manner in which obligation is recognised.
Close and affectionate sympathy with rightness,
exhibited so gloriously in the gospel as cha-
racterising the Divine nature, would naturally be

BRITISH CHURCHES. 143

at one with Tightness, in whatever connexion it
might be displayed. The Churches, the associated
human embodiment of God's truth, ought to be
known to all as the eager adherents and allies of
whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure,
lovely, and of good report. Not only is not this
the case, but the failure is openly justified. A
new idea dawns upon the world — a new thought
is born of Christianity — a new object for benevolent
and united exertion is proposed and pressed upon
the attention of the religious. It has upon it the
undeniable stamp of justice. It is recognised as
unquestionably right in the abstract. Its realiza-
tion is regarded as extremely desirable. Public
opinion, however, is against it. It is sneered at
as "svild, visionary, Utopian. To be identified wdth
it is to be singular. Well ! but as it is in itself
a right thing, a thing manifestly approved of
God, an offshoot of moral principles which his
revelation was designed to quicken and mature
in men's hearts, the Churches will welcome it, of
course — lend it their influence, back it with their
sanction, rescue it from ridicule by giving it an
honourable place in their esteem and exertions.
Now is this the case ? Is not the reverse of this
notoriously the truth] The few first followers of
the novelty, may be, indeed, and generally are,
religious men — but the religious w^orld, that great
section of society made up of the Churches, is

144 RELIGION OF THE

usually about the last quarter in which the move-
ment finds a hearty recognition. Strange that it
should be so, but, alas! too true it is, that the
surest and most formidable antagonists to an in-
cipient struggle for some yet unfavoured object
suggested by Christ's gospel, are the organized
associations of his professed disciples. In the
infancy and weakness of a good cause, they sys-
tematically stand aloof Whilst not a few men,
avowedly indifferent about religion, but friends of
justice, or benevolent in disposition, stand forth
and advocate, regardless of the scorn pelted at
them by the fuglemen of society, some principle
sj^ringing out of Christianity itself, they whose
sympathies might be supposed to be powerfully in
its favour, treat it with the coldest neglect — and
not until it has become strong enough not to need
their countenance and support, do they proclaim
themselves to the world its friends and patrons.
Nor is this all. It would appear to be an im-
pression by no means uncommon, that there are
regions of moral obligation with regard to which
they who assume to be in harmony with God ought
to be as though they were not — without carefully
formed opinions, without interest, without sym-
pathies, without conscience ; large departments of
human action, affecting, to an immense extent, indi-
vidual and social well-being, and needing more than
most others the light of Christian principles, and the

BRITISH CHURCHES. 145

purifying power of Christian affections, into which
it is deemed uncomely for spiritually-minded
men to venture. "Beware of politics" is the
exhortation which we more frequently hear,
than " Let your poKtics be governed by reli-
gion." The British Churches are, I trust, gradu-
ally becoming ashamed of this anomalous posi-
tion — but facts are too abundant to leave
room to doubt that there yet remains a con-
siderable portion of the old leaven in our
midst. I will not pursue the subject further
— but I cannot, in fidelity to my own convictions,
forbear the declaration, that however hope of
personal salvation by the gospel may admit of
connivance at wrong when exhibited in certain
directions, I do not perceive how an absorbing
complacency in God's moral excellence, developed
so strikingly in the purpose and provisions of
the New Testament economy, can allow the sub-
jects of it to be indifferent to anything which em-
bodies moral principles, or touches, though but
at a single point, man's moral welfare — and still
less do I believe that it can tolerate in this or
that particular direction a systematic violation,
under pretext of political or social exigencies, of
the great maxims of justice, right, truth, and
charity. Sympathy with the God of the gospel,
and sympathy with falsehood, fraud, violence, op-
pression, cruelty, by whomsoever displayed, cannot

L

146 RELIGION OF THE

co-exist in the same mind. Light can have no
fellowship with darkness.

I range under the same head, as originating in
the same generic cause, that still more mischievous
characteristic of the religion of our times, the
vicarious habits of Christian obligation and activity
— the entire transference by what is called " the
laity " of the Churches, to exclusively official care,
of a large and important class of the duties pre-
scribed by religion. There are extensive divisions
of the community designated Christian, in w^hich,
as is well known, even the hope of individual
acceptance with God is identified with sacerdotal
intervention. But it is not of these that I now"
speak. For the most part, personal piety is re-
garded by the Churches as dependent upon
personal effort— whilst all the more direct and
important social expressions of it are entrusted to
professional zeal. The evil, it is true, does not
pervade all denominations to the same extent, the
various sections of the Methodist body being far
less chargeable with it than most other religious
organizations. But, speaking generally, and allow-
ing all that in justice must be allowed in the way
of exception, are we not compelled, by a fair survey
of facts, to describe the exemplification of Christian
benevolence and usefulness by proxy, as a promi-
nent feature of the religion of our day? How
few are the Churches in Avhich the personal

BRITISH CHURCHES. 147

exertion of each individual member in behalf of
the truth is recognised as a matter of duty, and
put forth as the natural expression of faith, hope,
and love! What a variety of talent do many of
our Churches comprise ! Where do we see it sys-
tematically employed in achieving the end which
they profess to have in view? What an amount
of energy is suffered to lie dormant, and of aptitude
to help on the cause of God is consigned to
neglect, which a political association would have
called out ! Take the following as a specimen of
what is unhappily too common to attract observa-
tion or elicit remark. Here is a Church consisting
of so many members — a distinct organization of
individuals, the one object of whose care is, accord-
ing to their own solemn profession, and in response
to the appeal made to them by the gospel, to
commend the claims of God to the sympathy of
men. In what manner do they set about the
fulfilment of their glorious mission 1 Of the larger
half of them it may be said that they contribute
nothing whatever in the shape of personal effort
to the extension of the kingdom of Christ. They
appear to regard their work done when they them-
selves have entered it. Money, perhaps, they will
give, and, if naturally liberal, give largely, to enable
others to carry on the enterprise — but thought,
counsel, time, activity, they seldom, and then
grudgingly, place at the disposal of the cause they

l2

148 RELIGION OF THE

have espoused. The visitation of the sick, inter-
course with the poor, relief of destitution, in-
struction to the ignorant, all the outward means
of displaying attractively and effectively the object
and spirit of the gospel, they treat as the special,
if not exclusive, obligation of ministers and deacons.
Hence, to most of our Churches are attached
several minor societies for discharging duties ap-
pertaining to the Churches as such. To attend
the customary Sunday and week-night services,
to establish and observe family worship, to set
apart a portion of each day for private devotion,
and to abstain from what would bring public dis-
credit on their profession, comprehends, according
to the estimate of, perhaps, the majority of Church
members, the whole duty of a Christian, save in
those cases in which it is felt that pecuniary re-
sponsibility is, to some extent, imposed upon them.
The consequence is, that the minister is burdened
with a mass of engagements which are no more
peculiar to his office than the most ordinary ex-
emplifications of the Christian life, and, in place
of presiding over an active organization, he is him-
self constituted the organ by which it acts upon
surrounding society. I rejoice in the conviction
that this unnatural state of things is gradually
giving place to something better — our Sunday-
schools, Christian Instruction Societies, City Mis-
sions, and similar instruments of active usefulness,

BRITISH CHURCHES. 149

are enlisting the energies and the service of a
large number of private and unofficial Christians.
The labours of religious zeal are more widely dis-
tributed over the body of the Churches than here-
tofore— and much is now attempted in the way of
personal effort for the diffusion of God's truth
beyond what, not many years back, was looked
upon as a fair discharge of Christian responsibility.
Still, I am constrained to express my fear, that
practical fruitfiilness of the gospel in the individual
recipients of it, is the exception instead of the rule.
Men pledging themselves as at one with the
Saviour in his benign and glorious purpose, are
not commonly looked upon as belying that pledge
even when their whole life is spent without a
single effort, beyond the occasional gift of a paltry
subscription, to make that purpose tell upon the
destiny of others. Such inactivity must be far too
common where it creates no suspicion, and pro-
vokes no censure. It could not co-exist with a
spiritual sympathy with the principle of active
benevolence in God. No man appreciating, and
delighting in, this feature of the Divine excellence,
could content himself with giving a response to it
by proxy. No man contemplating with com-
placency the ever-working and disinterested energy
of Jesus, and rejoicing in it as an exhibition of
character, could satisfy the yearnings of his heart
by merely setting others to do the good which he

150 RELIGION OF THE

might do himself. Were it possible to make over
to another his opportunities of personal service,
none would acquiesce in such an arrangement,
whose aifections were in unison with the evangelic
representations of God. That piety must be pre-
dominantly selfish, and must concern itself much
more intently about benefit to be gained, than
about loveliness of character made manifest, which
is not impelled by its own instincts to make the
difiiision of revealed truth its own individual con-
cern. The genuine sentiment of subjective Chris-
tianity must needs be such as the words of Chi'ist
^ill most fitly express, " My Father worketh
hitherto, and I work."

I shall trouble the reader with but one other
illustration of the mischief occasioned in the
British Churches by the prevailing misconception
of the ultimate purport of the gospel economy to
which I have already adverted. A glance at the
several documents and proceedings of various
denominations which furnish, more or less du'ectly,
information of the visible results of religious minis-
tration amongst them, can scarcely fail of leaving
a painful impression upon the mind. Their colour-
ing is almost unifonnly sombre. Nowhere do they
indicate large success. Of late, the records of
progress have presented a total which falls below
the average. Large masses of our countrymen
would seem to be impervious to the gladdening

BRITISH CHURCHES. 151

beams of Christianity. If here and there the cords
of the tabernacle are lengthened, few indeed are
the places from which tidings reach us that its
stakes are strengthened. If not absolutely, as com-
pared with our former state, yet relatively, as com-
pared with the population, we appear to be losing
ground. The largest induction of facts leads to
general conclusions the least satisfactory to our
wishes. After the most searching and minute
examination of all the evidence which can throw
light upon the recent progress, and present position,
of the Churches, such inquiries as the following
are most apt to thrust themselves upon our thoughts
— inquiries which, if not very reasonable in them-
selves, serve to indicate the state of things,
which has brought them to tlie birth. " Has the
word of life lost any of its original vitality 1
Is its pristine power to assimilate the heart of
man to the will of God liable to decay '? Have
we, as a people, risen or sunk to a level of moral
feeling which puts the community, considered as
such, beyond the range of Christian doctrine?
Is the soil on which religion once flourished with
so much vigour showing symptoms of exhaustion ?
Have social, political, or intellectual causes ope-
rated in such unhappy combination upon national
habits and character as to render God's method of
reclaiming mankind to allegiance inapplicable, and
devoid of force ? Is the day for the spiritual tri-

152 RELIGION OF THE

umphs of divine truth over and gone, as it respects
Great Britain 1 Or has any striking resuscitation
of rehgious spirit in our midst become hopeless
until some signal judgment of Divine Providence
awaken us to unwonted solicitude touching our
relationship to God V That such questions as these
can push themselves up into notice, however speed-
ily they may be consigned to the fate of noxious
weeds, and rooted out of the mind by the hand
of faith, shows too clearly a general poverty of soil.
We must accept of that, we fear, as an indis-
putable and notorious fact. But however we may
deplore it, we cannot consent to regard it as
inexplicable, or even surprising. Man's relation
to the substantial verities of divine revelation is
not changed, it is true, but, in this country at least,
his susceptibiUty of impression by that aspect
of the gospel which is most prominently, and
almost exclusively, presented to him from the
pulpit and the press is slowly but steadily lessening.
Let me call the attention of the reader to two
characteristics of human nature, each of which
will contribute to account for the sad phenomenon
now under investigation. The first is, that all the
emotions awakened by the contemplation of actual
or possible gain or loss to ourselves personally,
lose power in proportion as they are tested. How
soon we cease to relish prosperity — how quickly
we accommodate our spirits to adversity ! Hope and

BRITISH CHURCHES. 153

fear when they relate to our own individual destiny,
accordingly as they are intensely and continuously
appealed to, grow dimmer and fainter. Associate
with this fact another not less pertinent to our
inquiry — namely, that personal feeling is very
greatly modified by the moral atmosphere with
which it is habitually in contact. It will be quite
sufficient to refer to national idiosyncrasies in proof
of the power of this law. Now taking into
account these two characteristics of our nature,
it appears to me that under a general and predo-
minant exhibition of gospel truths as they affect
merely man's hopes and fears respecting his own
condition here and hereafter, the result could be
no other than what we see it. Such a procla-
mation of God's message must needs exert its
greatest power at the commencement of its course.
Gradually, that portion of society which remains
unsubdued by it grows to regard it with less
and less impressibility. New generations grow up
under the shadow of the increasing indifference
— and the indurating process goes on until the
mind ceases to be perceptibly affected by the most
terrible or the most touching displays of Godhead
in revelation. Just the reverse of this is true of
the action upon our sympathies of manifested moral
excellence. The appetite which it excites is one
of those that "grows by what it feeds on." The
emotions awakened by appeals made to the moral

154 RELIGION OF THE

attributes of our nature become more prompt, more
lively, and more powerful, in proportion to the
degree in which they are exercised. Constant use
imparts to them sensitiveness and delicacy, multi-
plies the associations which call them into play,
and instructs them to put themselves forth in so
many forms of genial and unobtrusive lovehness,
as to enhance amazingly their influence over other
minds. Had the Churches generally, by preaching
and by practice, presented the message of God by
his Son more to the moral sympathies of men, and
less to their sense of personal interest — had the
tastes quickened and fostered in them been those
conversant with, and terminating upon, rightness
rather than advantage — had the paramount idea
they brought to bear upon the world been that of
the transcendantly glorious character of God, as
imaged in Jesus Christ, instead of the benefit
accruing to man from the Mediatorial work, they
would have difi'used around them an atmosphere
of thought and sentiment which, instead of harden-
ing the unsubdued into indifference and reckless-
ness, woukl have progressively mellowed them into
susceptibility of impression. Their error has been,
not in setting forth the mode in which, and the
extent to which, the economy of favour affects the
eternal destiny of man, but in settmg it forth
chiefly, almost exclusively. Now whatever may
be said of this or the other passage of Scripture as

•BRITISH CHURCHES. 155

sanctioning the course here animadverted on, it will
not be denied, I imagine, that the tendency of the
Bible as a whole, is to direct supreme attention to
God himself — what he is, what he does, what he
purposes. The Churches, I think, cannot be said
to aim at precisely the same object. Hence the
apparently increasing weakness of the instrument
they wield. A high state of spiritual prosperity
and power is nearly unknown amongst them.
Accessions from the world are few in comparison
of what the tenor of the gospel would lead us
to expect, and the bulk of even those few exhibit
no very marked alteration in the principles by
which they are governed. Moreover, as might
be reasonably anticipated, supposing the source of
the evil to be that which we have pointed out,
the morning of divine life in many, perhaps most,
is marked by greater fervour, fidehty, and self-
renunciation, than the more advanced stages of it,
in point of time. A steady ripening of character
as years roll on, and the outward means of
Christian knowledge are resorted to, is not common
enough to be referred to as the rule. " Thou art
neither hot nor cold " would best describe the
general condition of the Churches — and the mani-
fested God, which we take Christianity to be, not-
withstanding the multiplicity of organized bodies
by whom his claims are ostensibly set forth, is
responded to so partially and faintly that in the

156 RELIGION OF THE*

middle of this the nineteenth century, an inquiry
into the causes of the comparative failure is not
merely pertinent, but imperatively demanded.

I would again cast myself upon the good-will
and candour of the reader, in the endeavour to
trace what appears to me to be another cause of
sickliness and inefficiency in the British Churches,
through some of the more prominent symptoms by
which it is characterised. That to which attention
has just been directed, consists in putting man in
the place of God., as the prime object of the gospel
— this to which I now invite consideration, consists
in making law instead of love the spirit of the
gospel. It must be allowed that, generally speak-
ing, the formal statement of Christian doctrine by,
perhaps, the greater part of our religious bodies,
does not bear out the allegation — for grace as
opposed to works is a standing article of faith.
But here, as elsewhere, what appears in the creed,
is forgotten in the practice. Lest, however, my
meaning should be misunderstood, a few words of
explanation may be deemed requisite.

We can all appreciate the distinction between
being placed under law, and being put upon
honour, as arrangements for securing compliance
with the will of another. Ample experience has
demonstrated the superior power of the last method,
as compared with that of the first, in the formation

BRITISH CHURCHES. 157

of virtuous character. That which addresses us in
the imperative tone of " You must," cannot elicit
the same kind of response as that which wooes us
to a frank expression of our own will. The
obedience we render in the one case is less con-
sciously our own than in the other — the motives
brought into play are less generous — and what we
do or forbear to do is felt to represent the con-
science rather than the heart, " I lay no com-
mands upon you — you know my mind — do as
seems best to your own sense of right." Does not
the relationship in which such language places us
to him who is entitled to employ it, bring to bear
upon us a moral force far mightier than the most
stringent exactions of authority? Are we not
thrown by it upon the noblest as well as the most
powerful impulses of our nature? There is a
spring, an elasticity, a soul in the good conduct
which it secures such as mere conformity to pre-
scription and rule will not admit of The spirit
does not tarry as for an appointed task, but hies
forth spontaneously to look for and welcome it.
It rejoices in being allowed to volunteer true
service — and the larger the self-sacrifice, the more
gratefully is it presented.

Christianity, as most of us in terms profess, and
few of us in reality feel and acknowledge, puts its
subjects in their relation to God, upon a precisely
analogous footing. It is a system of truth designed.

158 RELIGION OF THE

not to exact obedience, but to generate, nourish,
and mature in us the love of obedience. It there-
fore sets us at liberty from law. Its business, if
I may so speak, is with men's likings — and with
their doings only so far as they are expressions of
those likings. We are put by it upon our honour
towards God. The only law under which we are
placed, is that which the Apostle well describes as
" the law of the spirit of life " — the law infused
into the nature of the new man, through the
gospel, by the Spirit of God. The economy of
grace, if the terms mean the idea which they
express, brings us into such a relationship to him
who might authoritatively have exacted homage
and service, as to admit of our voluntarily offering
them. To win the man to God is its single pur-
port— the man being won his conduct towards the
Supreme is to be the development of his own pre-
ference. Religiously considered, conduct is of no
value at all but as the appropriate utterance of
affections and will. In the sublimest sense, the
words of our Lord describe the true reason and
spirit of acceptable homage — " Freely ye have re-
ceived, freely give." Doubtless, we are furnished
with directions as to what will or will not be
agreeable to the Divine Mind. He has given us
sufficiently explicit intimations of the practical
modes in which we should seek to approve our-
selves to liim. But they are to be received as

BRITISH CHURCHES. 159

instructions vouchsafed to love, and love alone
can fulfil their behests. They are not law —
they must not be so taken — they cannot properly
be so complied with. To take what is preceptive
in divine revelation, and act as though it were
what God regards, and the spirit which adopts
it a matter of less moment, is to convert the
gospel into an essentially legal system. And yet,
one might almost conclude from the manner in
which our Churches present the message of life
to dying souls, that it is but the substitution of
one law for another, and that its object is mainly
to enjoin behaviour, not to quicken immortal souls.
The tone of the old dispensation, "Do this and
live," runs through their proclamation of the new
one — and sons are taught to breathe the spirit,
and to adopt the manners of slaves. Their utte-
rances of God's truth are chiefly mandatory — their
arrangements for giving it effect, morally, if not
physically, coercive. "You must do this" — "You
must not do that " — are dealt out more frequently
than the considerations which might avail to make
you prefer the doing or the forbearing described.
The Christian man is treated as if his life was
to be a compliance, willing or unwilling, with
a code of regulations. " Touch not — taste not —
handle not " — " holydays, new-moons, sabbaths,"
— have come down to us from apostolic times.
What we are, as is meet, is tested by what we

160 RELIGION OF THE

do — but what we do is not tested by what we
are. The fact is, the Churches, for the most
part, are afraid of the freedom of the gospel.
They cannot trust it. They dread licentiousness
as its product. They scarcely admit even in
theory that it is a " perfect law of liberty," and
they dare not openly proclaim it as such. They
are scared by the spectre of a wild antinomianism,
which is a gross misapplication of a glorious truth.
Nothing done to God, is done acceptably to him,
which is not done spontaneously by us. There
is no religion in obedience, save as obedience
expresses choice.

If the foregoing observations are true and
pertinent, they furnish us with a clue to another
class of morbid symptoms characterising the
present state of religion in the British Churches.
Of these, in accordance with the plan I have
laid down, I shall submit but two or three spe-
cimens in the way of illustration.

All the manifestations of Christian principle
and effort, should be distinguished by sj)ontaneity
— should represent indwelling energy, rather
than external force. Few individuals, I appre-
hend, will contend that such is the case in the
present day. There is no exuberance of life.
Much is done, but not con amore. Zeal seldom
flows forth freely. We have more mechanism
than power to keep it going — and, indeed, much

BRITISH CHURCHES. 161

of that very mechanism is worked with a view
to generate power. Active movement is maintained
only by a most disproportioned amount of "pres-
sure from without. Religious enterprises do not
spring up, but are got up, not without great labour.
Through the whole range of direct religious exer-
tion, the results produced are to a much wider
extent those of manufacture than of growth.
The business of the Churches is carried on task-
wise — their mission is prosecuted not " willingly,"
but " of constraint." The screw must be upon
them perpetually, now in one shape, then in
another. Real individual self-sacrifice is so rare
as almost to provoke derision when it does show
itself — systematic and organized consecration to
disinterested objects, we scarcely meet with in
these days. Look at any one of the spiritual
or benevolent undertakings which, in one view of
them, do honour to modern times. How much
ready self-denial does any one of them, local or
general, represent ^ Look down the subscrip-
tion list ! How many, suppose you, of those
whose names appear as contributors, have not
given as sparingly as a decent reputation would
admit of? How many have cared to inconvenience
themselves, or have measured the aid they afforded
by their own ability to render it 1 Mark the long
array of guineas in single file ! Why this uni-
formity, where no such uniformity of worldly

M

162 RELIGION OF THE

circumstances can be pretended'? But was even
this list originated by the force of Christian
principle in the majority of those who appear
upon it ? No such thing. There have been
pungent appeals, special excitements, deputations,
tea-parties, and personal applications by hard-
working collectors, to produce and to maintain
it. And, alas ! this immobility, this holdmg back,
this constrained and grudging recognition of the
responsibilities imposed upon us by the gospel,
is not at all peculiar to cases involving pecuniary
demands. Much of the same spirit pervades
religious movement in every direction. It would
seem as if there was not among spiritual commu-
nities " a mind to the work." They do not hasten
to it, but are driven. They have no yearnings
after it, no fond delight in it. They do not asso-
ciate it with gladness. They do not prosecute
it cheerily. "Must" is their overseer, where love
should lead on and superintend alone. And such
a state of things, I submit, is only the natural
result of a general misappreciation of the status
to which Christianity has elevated us. It may
consist with the notion that we are under a state
of law — it could hardly be made compatible with
the feeling that we are placed upon our honour.
We might feel no shame in yielding this as an
exaction — we surely could never prevail u})on
ourselves to offer it as a free-will tribute of sym-

BRITISH CHURCHES. 163

pathy and love. There is a marvellous difference
between letting-go and giving — in the first we
retain all that we are not obliged to part with
— in the last we part with all that we are not
obliged to retain. " Holding our own " is the
leading idea of the former — pleasure in the com-
munication of it, the prominent feelmg of the
latter. We pay no more taxes than we can help
— we express love by urging the acceptance of all
that we can spare.

Compromise^ as well as constraint, too commonly
characterises the manifestations of the religious
spirit in the present day — a sort of composition
between sound principles and worldly interests
— Truth followed when she leads us along the
highways of society, abandoned when she would
conduct us to solitary and inhospitable deserts.
Where little is to be surrendered we cheerfully
ask ourselves, " what is right ? "—where everything
but a good conscience is to be hazarded, we
inquire, "what is expedient]" Prudence, so called,
has been elevated to the throne of the virtues
— and to 'commit ourselves, without regard to
consequences, to an acknowledged principle of
the Bible, and reap temporal ruin as the result
of unbending fidelity, is inconsiderate enthusiasm.
Is this a sketch from fancy or from life? Our
wishes might say, from fancy, but would impartial
observation bear them out? Take, for example,

M 2

164 RELIGION OF THE

the department of trade and commerce. Suppose
the importation by Christian men into that depart-
ment, of an uncompromising spirit, governed exclu-
sively by the principles of the gospel, would they
not feel themselves bound to protest against not
a few of the maxims current there, and to refuse
even an apparent sanction to many of the practices
habitually resorted to? Must it not be allowed
that the atmosphere of business, as commonly
carried on, is compounded of very different, and
sometimes opposite elements, to those of "pure
and undefiled religion 1 " Now I ask whether
it is the rule or the exception that men of repute
among the Churches for godliness are commonly
known on 'change, at market, and, to use a
technical term, " in the trade," as men resolved
to lend no countenance to any transaction whereby
another may be overreached, deceived, defrauded,
taken advantage of, or oppressed ] I ask whether
it is the rule or the exception that the spiritual
character of those men is regarded, or would
reasonably justify the regarding of it, as a gua-
rantee for perfect good faith, unimpeachable inte-
grity, exact and scrupulous veracity, and a keen
sense of honour*? Nay, is it too much to affirm
that " the name of Christ is blasphemed " through
the inconsistencies, in this respect, of his professed
disciples'? And the worst feature of the case is,
tlic prevailing o])inion that it i?iust be so — that in

BRITISH CHURCHES, 165

the present state of society, and under the inflii-
ence of present habits of business, there is no
alternative — that Christians might as well with-
draw from trade altogether, as attempt to conduct
it on strictly religious principles. It does not
appear to be considered conclusive, that if all
this were literally true, which it certainly is not,
it would tell, not against the propriety of inflexible
adherence to what Divine Truth has prescribed,
but against those who receive it embarking in
business at all — and that hard labour for daily
wages, menial service, poverty, privation, and
even death itself, are to be chosen rather
than a settled compromise with evil. I am per-
suaded that the Churches, for the most part,
would regard this as carrying the spirit of the
gospel to a most extravagant length. To evade
the difficulty by compounding with the obligation
out of which it arises, is the most usual course,
not merely taken, but justified. The maxims
of revealed truth are allowed to have authority
" as far as possible," that is, as far as they consist
with an average participation of gain — when they
operate to cut off" all rational prospect of making
head in the world, they are treated as devoid
of force. Were it necessary, we might gather
illustrations of the same habit of compromise from
the drawing-room as from the warehouse or shop,
in which, beyond certain limits, Christianity is

166 RELIGION OF THE

dismissed as intrusive, and gentility is installed
on its throne. Political movements, more espe-
cially when they pass into electoral regions, would
yield up to severe scrutiny abundant specimens
of the same evil — members of Christian bodies
conniving at the grossest immorahties, mixing
themselves up with the dirtiest tricks of faction,
and resigning to the selfish demands of party,
all that an enlightened conscience must esteem
pure, lovely, and of good report. And the plea
in extenuation of what cannot be wholly defended,
is, that custom is inveterate, and that " the cause "
requires submission to it. The class of deviations
I am now describing are not mere frailties — nor
are they so regarded — they are not accidental,
but systematic — and they grow out of a settled
compromise between the spirit of Christianity on
the one hand, and the spirit of the w^orld on
the other. I trace this to the virtual substitution
of law for love as the great moving principle
of religious action; Our interpretations of right
would be more generous if we better appreciated
the liberality of the basis on which it rests.
Men in sympathy with the mind of God, and
put on their honour towards him as presiding
over moral administration, could hardly enter
into a tacit agreement, or even a temporary truce
with what his own message to us plainly condemns.
There is about it a meanness, an equivocation,

BRITISH CHURCHES. 167

a duplicity of purpose, which could hardly fail
of preventing its being oiFered to God as the
grateful tribute of a willing heart. An ingenuous
spirit would recoil from so low and sordid a
practical interpretation of evangelic rightness if
fully conscious that he is meant by such inter-
pretation to express the measure of his love.
Indeed, it appears to me utterly impossible to
reconcile this stooping to compromise with anything
approaching to a correct estimate of " the glorious
liberty of the sons of God."

The same misappreciation of the genius of
Christianity shows itself in another form. The
British Churches, but particularly those of Scot-
land, evince a strong, and I fear it must be added,
a growing, disposition, to attack irreligion in
its external manifestations, and that with weapons
which do not so much as touch, and therefore
cannot destroy, the internal causes of it. I submit
as the most vivid, but not by any means the only,
illustration of it, what is commonly called " the
Sabbath question." Means, it appears, must be
taken by rehgious society to prevent the dese-
cration of the day by men indifferent or hostile
to the claims of the gospel — as if such men could
possibly present other homage to the sanctity
of the day than one which their hearts refuse,
and as if this were better than no homage at all.
Suppose the object aimed at could be comj)assed.

168 RELIGION OF THE

Suppose all the means and opportunities of openly
violating the Sabbath were cut off — every tavern
and tea-garden shut — every vehicle prohibited —
every avenue to pleasure barred — and every act
expressive of contempt for the institution rendered
impossible. What iheni There would not be
more religion — if by religion is meant sympathy
with God in the gospel of Jesus Christ — in conse-
quence of the arrangement, than there was before
— not one single additional element of the social
state upon which the eye of the Supreme could
rest with approval. There would be nothing more
than an imposing show without any corresponding
reality — towards God a mockery— to the Churches
a blind, concealing from them the actual spiritual
condition of the world — and operating upon the
ungodly themselves as a delusion and a snare.
Strange that Christianity should be so completely
misunderstood ! Stranger still that the misunder-
standing should be exhibited in connexion with
the most general and strenuous advocacy of the
doctrine of justification by faith ! Strangest of
all, that the zeal for " Sabbath observance " which
seeks to impose it upon all, willing or unwilling,
concerns itself only about special modes of dese-
cration— those, namely, which run counter to
national habits. I confess, I have been amazed
at the manner in which this question has been
argued and enforced. Deeds, irrespective of the

BRITISH CHURCHES, 169

soul with which they are instinct, would seem
to be estimated by good men, and respected theo-
logians, as possessing a religious value — a value
in the sight of God himself — and law, not love,
is proclaimed as the constraining motive to obe-
dience under the economy of grace. Would that
the illustration we have offered were a solitary one !
But, alas! an intimate acquaintance with the
Churches might produce not a few instances of
the attempt to make men show a respect for
God's will, which they do not entertain, and
which, left to the impulse of their own nature,
they would not express.

To complete this examination of what is morbid
in the religion of the British Churches, it will
be necessary to glance, however cursorily, at a
third element of deterioration and inefficiency,
and at a specimen or two of its visible manifes-
tation. I venture to suggest that the special and
distinctive method of Christianity in placing divine
truth before the human mind is not generally
apprehended, or is almost entirely overlooked —
and that, whereas God's plan is expressly adapted
to stimulate a process of inquiry, that most resorted
to by us attaches importance, almost exclusively,
to its results. We lay the weightiest stress upon
logical propositions — the structure of revelation
appears to me to take more account of the prin-

170 RELIGION OF THE

ciples of mental and moral investigation by which
we arrive at them. The letter of faith is of para-
mount moment in our view — the spirit of faith, in
the view of the Supreme.

In as few sentences as possible, I will endeavour
to put the reader into possession of my meaning.
The facts and doctrines of Scripture, like the
forms and laws of the material universe, constitute
but a medium of expression, whereby the uncre-
ated, invisible, and eternal Spirit, makes the spirits
of men cognizant of what he is, as the archetype
of all conceivable excellence. Nature, Providence,
the Gospel — each may be regarded as a dialect
of speech in which the perfect and absolute lluler
makes himself audible — or as windows opening
in different directions, through which we may
gaze upon varied aspects of the same character
— or as figure, attitude, and countenance, by
which he gives intelligible, and expressive utter-
ance to the purposes of his heart. Substantially,
they answer their main end when by their means,
whatever may be the incidental mistakes we may
fall into in respect of the significance of parti-
cular details, we get at the general bearing of
God's mind and will regarding us, and suitably
respond in admiration, affection, and confidence
— and they fail of it when, whatever may be
the accuracy of our acquaintance with themselves,
we discern little or nothing of the glorious trutli

BRITISH CHURCHES. 171

which they are intended to embody. A man
may be a most accomplished and profound natural
philosopher, and yet see nothing in the infinitely-
varied but all-beauteous forms of matter, or in
the laws by which it is governed, but a blind,
unintelligent, purposeless chance — and a peasant
poet may hold very erroneous, and even absurd
opinions, respecting the motion of the heavenly
bodies, the influence of the moon upon the ebb
and flow of tides, or any other great physical fact,
and yet " look through nature up to nature's God."
May not similar phenomena present themselves
in the spiritual world 1 May there not be learned
orthodoxy, or an accurate view of the logical
forms of revelation, without even a glimpse of
their divine significance, or a single pulsation
of heart in unison with what God meant to convey
to the soul through their instrumentality ? And
may there not also be a fervent and afi'ectionate
sympathy mth the design and tenor of the
Gospel, in connexion with considerable misappre-
hension in relation to particular theories or doc-
trines 1 Unquestionably, an exact knowledge of
natural facts and laws would be an inestimable
advantage to the peasant poet in the case above
supposed — and as little can it be disputed that
sound, consistent, and scriptural theological views
would be proportionably beneficial to the man
who finds delight in the manifested God. But

172 RELIGION OF THE

I gather from God's method of revealing himself
both in his works and in his word, that an eye for
the divine in them is of greater value than an
accurate perception of their form or letter, and
that to exercise and nourish the faculty of spiritual
insight is a better thing than to gain assent to
the fairer side of a controverted dogma. Now
it appears to me that the British Churches invert
this order. The objective in Christianity has been
too exclusively regarded — the subjective, over-
looked, and even discouraged. As in some schools,
a great deal of prepositional knowledge is im-
parted, where the powers of the mind are neither
eUcited, exercised, nor trained, so in the Churches
just thoughts are more eagerly insisted upon than
just habits of thinking — and orthodox conclusions
have engrossed the zeal no small part of which
ought to have been devoted to the culture of
the faculties by which they are to be a23prehended
and assimilated. Letter, which has its own sphere,
and that a not unimportant one, has usurped the
place of spirit — and overweening concern for
what men shall believe has produced a care-
lessness as to the cause and character of their
faith.

The evil breaks out in many unsightly symptoms.
Various modes, more or less refined, of trespass
upon the right of private judgment — Avorse than
futile attempts at uniformity of religious opinion —

BRITISH CHURCHES. 173

denominational divisions and rivalries — waste of
energy which needs to be economized — zeal for
proselytism — polemical rancour destructive of all
charity — and a fruitless diversion of eifort from
what most imperatively demands it, are a few
of the grievous phenomena in which the mistake
becomes visible to the world. I do not intend
to enlarge upon these topics. Here, more than
elsewhere, the tide of improvement, I think, has
fairly set in. The tendency of our Churches is
in the right direction, and some progress has been
made. Much, however, yet remains to be accom-
plished— and assuredly in a description of the
religion of the British Churches, this feature of
it demanded mention, and had space permitted,
would have justified ampler remark.

In closing this review, I would again remind
the reader that my purpose required that I should
point out wherein the Churches as they are differ
from what all will admit they should be. In this
lies the secret of their comparative inefficiency.
Attention, therefore, has been concentrated upon
what is morbid in their condition and action.
There is, of course, another side of the picture.
There are features to awaken thankfulness and
hope — indications of life — signs of activity — evi-
dences of success. Perhaps, too, with a view to
make myself intelligible, the language I have
employed may have over-coloured some defects.

174 RELIGION OF THE BRITISH CHURCHES.

My aim has been to leave upon the mind a general
impression in unison with the actual state of things.
My observation may have been too limited — and
exceptions to what I have laid down may be more
numerous than I have admitted — more cheering
than I am at present prepared to believe. But
however this may be, I apprehend that the sketch,
incomplete and one-sided as it may be, is suffi-
ciently accurate to suggest serious and useful reflec-
tions. Beyond all question, the evils I have
attempted to exhibit, exist to an extent which
greatly militates against the triumphant prosecution
of that glorious mission which organized Christian
communities have in hand. To do their Lord's
work as it ought to be done, they must purge
themselves of the offensive leaven, whether or
not it be true, that it pervades the whole lump.

OHAPTEE lY.

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

CONTENTS.

CAUSES OF "WEAKNESS REVIEWED IN THE FOREGOING CHAPTER,
INDIGENOUS — SHOW THE AVANT OF A HIGHER STYLE OF RELI-
GION— AMONGST EXTRANEOUS CAUSES, THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTI-
MENT IS PROMINENT — PLAN OF THE CHAPTER — SENSE IN WHICH
THE PHRASE IS EMPLOYED — SPIRIT OF CASTE — MAN VALUED ACCORD-
ING TO WORLDLY POSITION — NOT IN HARMONY WITH THE SPIRIT
OF THE GOSPEL — ^WITH ITS SPIRITUAL PURPORT— WITH THE LIFE
OF CHRIST — WITH PRECEPTIVE DIRECTIONS — WITH CHURCH FELLOW-
SHIP— ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT IN THE BRITISH CHURCHES —
CAUTION AGAINST MISTAKES — ITS EVIL ACTION UPON THE SYM-
PATHIES OF THE CHURCHES — UPON THEIR ENTERPRISES— UPON
THEIR PRACTICAL METHODS OF USEFULNESS — PERNICIOUS CONSE-
QUENCES ATTRIBUTABLE TO IT — LOSS OF MORAL INFLUENCE —
BITTERNESS OF UNBELIEF AMONGST THE POOR — POPULAR INDIF-
FERENCE— NEGLECTED CAPABILITIES.

CHAPTER IV.

The morbid symptoms of the religion commonly
exemplified by the British Churches, to which
attention was pointed in the foregoing chapter,
were regarded as arising from causes of a purely
spiritual character. They were considered — whe-
ther with or without sufficient reason must be
determined by the reader — as the natural results
of a misapprehension of the drift, spirit, and
method, of the New Testament economy. Substan-
tially, the forms of revealed truth recognised by
the majority of our Christian organizations, were
supposed to be correct interpretations of the mind
of God, whilst exception was taken to the mode
in which they are held. The very texture of
the religious principle was pronounced defective,
and hence, ill adapted to bear the strains to which
the pressure of worldly influences must always,
more or less, subject it. Just as physical sufferings
of various, and seemingly opposite, kinds are traced

178 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

home to some taint in the blood, and are treated
as originating in constitutional causes, so the
defects, inconsistencies, and mischiefs, which have
passed under our review, were thought to have
their seat in the prime elements of religious life.
We may distinguish them, we think, without
impropriety as indigenous — the fruit of tendencies
inherent in our nature.

Before proceeding to a consideration of those
causes of weakness and inefficiency which are
extrinsic, local, and accidental, I crave forgiveness
for detaining the reader a few moments to state
my conviction, that however I may be deemed
to have erred in my attempt to lay bare the
roots of the chief evils discernible in the Churches,
they will not be discovered at any less distance
from the surface. The peculiar character of the
present times, the greater amount and intensity
of secular cares falling to each man's lot, in con-
sequence of our increasing population, the social
customs of the age, antiquated and cumbersome
religious machinery, and many other causes ope-
rating from without, may serve, as we shall
hereafter see, to aggravate the disorder, but I
cannot regard them as accounting for its existence.
Were spiritual vitality moderately vigorous, the
injurious action of these external circumstances
and arrangements upon it, would be more gene-
rally and successfully resisted. It is in the for-

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 179

mation of religious principle, rather than in sub-
sequent modifications of it, that the mischief
originates — and if, as I believe, we have no
sufficient ground for concluding that erroneous
doctrine has eaten away the strength of the
Churches, we have as little reason for suspecting
that it has been worn down by the multiplicity
and the energy of extraneous influences. The
disease, if I may so speak, is in the blood. The
life itself is of an inferior type. We look at
Christianity from one position only, and that
as low an one as we could well take — and the
spirit begotten in us by what we see, is but a
partial and one-sided reflection of the truth re-
vealed. The great want of the Churches, there-
fore— that which overtops all others, and casts
its own broad, deep shadow over all — is a higher,
nobler, diviner style of religion, a more intimate,
and an intenser sympathy with the moral cha-
racter of the manifested God. Until this want
is met, we shall look in vain for large and
permanent improvement. Christianity must be
preached and studied for other ends than the
personal advantage to be secured by it — must
be received and exulted in as a dispensation of
" glorious liberty " rather than a system of autho-
ritative injunction — must be understood and
appreciated as given to elicit, and train, and dis-
ciphne our spiritual powers rather than, careless

N 2

180 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

of the process, to make us cognizant of certain
forms of truth — before Christian societies can
efficiently and successfully discharge the bene-
ficent mission with which they are entrusted.
They must be instinct with a better spirit in
order to the achievement of greater results. They
must drink far more deeply than they have done
into the moral significance of the gospel, or cease
to wonder at the feebleness of spiritual life
amongst them. They must aim at something
higher for themselves, before they will be qualified
to accomplish more for others. Let them not
deceive themselves with vain expectations. They
have need to begin again at the beginning, if,
as God's instruments for regenerating the world,
they would fully and honourably compass the end.
Besides the intrinsic weakness and inferiority
of spiritual life in the British Churches, already
described and accounted for, the action of that
life is injuriously modified by certain extraneous
influences. Just as an individual in whose cha-
racter divine truth has wrought a real and entire
transformation, retains all his peculiarities of
natural taste and temper, so, experience proves
that religious organizations, constituted upon what-
ever plan, exhibit, more or less, some character-
istics of local or national origin. The political
institutions of a people, their mode of employment
and of life, the maxims which pass current among

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT, 181

them, and, indeed, whatever contributes to the
formation of national idiosyncrasy, will always be
found to modify, to some extent at least, the
exemplification, by individuals and by churches,
of the religious principle. The visible forms in
which it develops itself take a tint from surround-
ing society. In the greater number of instances,
perhaps, the influence of the world thus brought
to bear upon the Church, affects it superficially
only — in some, however, it penetrates deeper,
mingling" with and debasing spiritual sentiment,
and showing itself detrimentally in common modes
of action. It is to the consideration of the most
prominent of this class of agencies that I now
turn, with a view to get a further insight into
the state and working of the British Churches
— and I propose to devote the present chapter
to an examination of the manner in which the
sentiment of Aristocracy operates upon the spirit
of our Christian societies, and tends to impede
their success.

It will be convenient to range the observations
I wish to make on this subject in the following
order. I shall attempt to describe, as precisely
as I am able, what I mean by the Aristocratic
sentiment — I shall endeavour to show that it
has nothing in common with the genius of Christ's
gospel, but is directly opposed to it. I propose
offering some illustrations of its existence and

182 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

action, in the Churches of our land — and I shall
point out the obstructive influence it exerts in
relation to their enterprise and success.

It will be obvious, at a glance, that I make
use of the term Aristocracy in the broad, popular
sense with which we are all familiar. The
remarks I shall have to make will have no
reference to aristocracy as an integral part of our
civil constitution. Doubtless, the fact that we live
under a form of government in which hereditary
nobles make a prominent feature, and to which
their order gives its distinctive character, has
done much to create, and still does much to
nourish, the aristocratic sentiment prevalent in
this country. All human institutions, however,
produce incidental evils — and it would savour
more of rashness than of wisdom, to condemn
them as imjustifiable, or even as inexpedient,
merely because man's infirmity can find in them
somewhat to minister to a depraved taste. Whe-
ther, therefore, it is wise or unwise — whether
it is in unison or at variance with the general
principles of Christianity — to mark off a special
class of men for investiture ^wdth certain pri-
vileges, distinctions, and political power — is
left entirely unaffected by the present train
of observation. The spirit of ascendency may
surely be rebuked without casting a reflection

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 183

upon the regal office — and the aristocratic senti-
ment may be denounced without passing censure
upon a titled and hereditary branch of legislature.
The political institution, however, ancient and
powerful as it is in this country, has been the
occasion of drawing out amongst all classes of
the community, what would probably have mani-
fested itself to some extent, even in its absence,
a tendency to cherish the spirit of caste. The
governing cii'cle which the precision of law has
rendered definite, repeats itself in wider and less
distinct circles down to the very bottom of society
— and each claims for itself somewhat which it
regards as incommunicable to the grades beneath
it. By the sanction of immemorial custom,
consideration is apportioned to every man accord-
ing to the place which he occupies on the gradu-
ated scale of social life — and although the edges
of every rank may so run mto those immediately
above and beneath it as to render the lines of
demarcation between them indiscernible, there
are yet difi'erences of class so strongly marked,
from the very summit of society, to its nethermost
base, that every man feels entitled to exact for
himself, or bound to pay to others, the deference
appropriate to the class to which he belongs.
Hence, although there may oftentimes be uncer-
tainty as to whether an individual is to be
regarded as on the hither or the thither side

184 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

of the border, there is no question made of what

is his due, supposing his position to be fairly

ascertained. It would be quite impracticable,

and, to the full, equally unprofitable, to set forth

all the varieties of form and manner in which

the respect owing by man to man exhibits itself

in relation to these circles, or, beginning with

the highest, to measure off what pertaining to it

is exclusive, and trace its gradual dimmution

through every underlying circle, until, reaching

the lowest, we cease to distinguish any remains

of it whatever. It may suffice to remark that

most men, as they sink downwards, are sure to

he reminded, and almost all men as they move

upwards to remind others, of the exclusive social

rights, privileges, and powers, customarily allotted

to the station he occupies. Practically, each class

knows and asserts its own pretensions, especially

as compared with those of the classes below

them — and almost universally, each is striving

to add to its own exclusiveness as much as

will equalize the amount with that of the class

next above them.

The disposition which shows itself in these
results is, perhaps, more poweifully operative
in British society, than in that of any other
country under the sun. The source of it is
what I have ventured upon designating "the aris-
tocratic sentiment." The simplest element to which

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 185

analysis can reduce it is — value attached to man
according to the circumstances of his worldly lot. In
feeling, if not in positive conviction, we associate
the idea of merit with social position — and, uncon-
sciously, set down a man's temporal state and
prospects in the catalogue of his virtues or vices,
as the case may be. Our judgment of what
measure of respect is due to others on account
of their individual worth, is scarcely ever finally
made up, until we have taken into consideration
all that is apparent to us of their worldly means
— birth, connexions, property, prospects. "We
employ the descriptive term "respectability," with
exclusive reference to their whereabouts in the
social scale. A title of nobility is a sort of concave
mirror, giving back to all spectators a wonderfully
magnified reflection of the most diminutive forms
of wisdom, virtue, or piety. A large fortune, a
splendid estabUshment, fashionable connexions, or
even great expectations, constitute a setting in
which, in common estimation, the Bristol paste
of humanity becomes a real diamond. Poverty,
on the other hand, is not only a calamity, but
a disgrace. Men whom Divine Providence has
\vi*apt in that garment must be endowed with
prodigious mental and moral strength, to win
for themselves the passing homage of the more
comfortable ranks above them. If, self-reliant
and conscious of their claims, they bear them-

186 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

selves with manly independence, or exhibit an
expectation that worth may suitably put itself
abreast of wealth, they are " unmindful of their
place," deficient in modesty, apparently ignorant
of, or indifferent to, " the duties they owe to their
superiors." And all intellectual, all moral, all
religious quahfications, are thrown into a balance,
weighted on one side by the accidents of a man's
lot. Wisdom of course is better than folly, kind-
ness than malevolence, integrity than roguishness,
piety than irreligion, in whatever stratum of
society the comparison between the two may occur
— but that is wisdom, kindness, integrity, piety,
in a man who has an honourable prefix to his name,
resides in a spacious mansion, owns a large estate,
and keeps carriages and men-servants, which is
barely discernible as such in a city tradesman
who pays his way and keeps a gig, and which
ceases to be noticeable at all in a menial whose
possession of them has been conquered by an
unbroken series of heroic conflicts with internal
tendencies, and external temptations. Aye! and
the delinquencies and crimes which, when asso-
ciated with meanness of birth and penury of
condition, rouse our indignation, and provoke our
severest censure, lose a shade or two of their
moral turpitude in exact correspondence with
the elevation of the social sphere in which they
become manifest, and present themselves in the

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 187

upper circles as venial peccadilloes over which
it becomes charity to cast a veil. Such is the
world, so far as Great Britain is concerned —
so emphatically true is it, in relation to this
country, that " men will praise thee when thou
doest well for thyself" The disposition is not
confined to any one class. The poor are subjects
of it as well as the rich. All ahke are prone
to value man rather for what he has than what
he is — to do homage to fortunate circumstances —
to look chillingly and depreciatingly upon what-
ever is tarnished by exposure to worldly want
— ^in a word, to indulge in some one or other
of the infinitely varied expressions through
which the aristocratic sentiment may render itself
visible.

It can scarcely be necessary to occupy more
than a moment in showing that the sentiment
under consideration is not in unison with the
spirit of Christianity, but is plainly condemned
by it. Indeed, if it were required only to con-
vince the understanding, it might suffice merely
to state the conclusion, leaving it to the reader
to marshal the evidence in its favour. The case
is one, however, in which the reasoning powers
are usually superseded by feeling, and in the
treatment of which, the effort which may be
thought superfluous for producing conviction,

188 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

is imperatively called for to put men in remem-
brance.

The entire scope of the gospel is plainly
intended to detach our sympathies from what
is material and transitory, by which they are
easily attracted, and deeply absorbed, and to
intertwine them inseparably with what is moral
and imperishable. And just in proportion as
its purpose is answered in our souls, the value
of all the little distinctions which obtain among
mortals dwindles into utter insignificance. An
eye accustomed to gaze upon what is charac-
teristically divine, and to please itself in the
contemplation of the highest manifestations of
wisdom, truth, righteousness, and love — a life
which nourishes itself, not on the outer rind
and husk of the visible universe, but upon the
inner and spiritual truth which they comprehend
— a soul at one vnth. God as to the main object
of its own existence, and as to the glorious
intent of his approaches to it — what can the
mere incidents of this evanescent scene offer to
their notice worthy even of a momentary interest
apart from the adaptation they may exhibit to
fit the individual for his ultimate destiny 1 It
is one of the saddest consequences of our fall
— a consequence, too, which Christianity has
been given to remedy, that the whole play of
our being is so apt to stop short of its appointed

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 189

sphere of activity and enjoyment, and contentedly
to take up for its end what was meant by the
Creator only to point us forward to it. The
revelation of God was vouchsafed to erring huma-
nity, in order that morally as well as physically,
and here as well as hereafter, " this corruptible
may put on incorruption " — that our thoughts may
be conversant with, and our affections filled by,
and our choice set upon, things essentially inde-
structible, things identified with the perfections,
and constituting the supreme and eternal excel-
lency, of God himself The present life is but
the school-boy period, in which some elementary
principles are to be wrought into our minds, and
by means of them the now dormant powers of
our nature elicited and exercised, to render us
capable of the nobler occupation reserved for our
immortal manhood. Nothing has real worth here
save as it may be made to tell upon our spiritual
position hereafter. Nothing which we have is
of importance, but as it may affect what we
are and shall be. The rushing stream of time will,
sooner or later, wash away with it all the acci-
dents which at present environ our existence,
and will leave us in possession of nothing but
what we have treasured up in our own hearts.
Every sentiment, consequently, which induces us
to prize what is temporary, or to place a high
estimate upon distinctions which are casual and

190 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

but for a day, is counteracting, so far as it is
allowed to operate, the beneficent purpose of the
gospel of Jesus Christ.

There appears to my mmd, moreover, a special
and peculiar incongruity in the indulgence of
the aristocratic sentiment by the disciples of the
Son of God. It is an indii'ect, but by no means
equivocal, impeachment of that wisdom which
selected a lowly sphere through which to move
to the sublimest of moral purposes, and which
put honour upon poverty by associating it with
the brightest display of the Divme character and
will, and with the loveliest, and only perfect,
development of human nature. Familiar, as
they profess to be, with the touching story of
his life, and sympathizing, as they profess to do,
with the object and spirit of his strangely com-
passionate enterprise, one might have imagined
that the calm indifference he evinced to the
worldly circumstances of those amongst whom he
dwelt, the seeming insensibility which he dis-
played in relation to the differences of lot which
society in his day presented, as well as in our
own, and the cheerful readiness with which he
could meet and mingle with the ruder as well as
the more elevated and refined of his countrymen,
must needs impress upon his followers, through
every age to the end of time, such views of the
nothingness of our social distinctions as would

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 191

preserve them at least from attaching serious
importance to them. Were they to reflect upon
the matter at all, they would feel how singularly
out of keeping with the pervading tone of that
history, would be any reference of the mind of
Christ to the respectability, as we phrase it, of
those whom he came hither to save from frivolity
and sin, could any such reference be detected.
Or coming down from him to his apostles, who
would not be conscious of something like a shock
to his moral sensibilities, if, in forming an estimate
of the claims of Paul upon our veneration and
love, any individual should be found capable
of inquiring what might have been his income, or
of suggesting, with a view to his depreciation, that
he was only an artizan after all ? But if the ideas
brought into juxta-position in the instances just
cited are perceived to be ill-assorted and misplaced,
it is clear that the aristocratic sentiment could find
no apology amongst Christian men of these times,
but that it is never seen in contact with spiritu-
ality and devotedness of the same exalted charac-
ter as those of the apostle.

We are not, however, left to inference in this
matter. The New Testament contains such an
abundance of preceptive direction condemnatory
of the aristocratic sentiment, that nothing but
experience of the power and propensity of human
nature to practise deception upon itself, could

192 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

prevent our surprise that men imbued with Chris-
tian principle could find any pretext strong
enough to seduce them into an indulgent regard
of the evil. From the tenor of Christ's instruc-
tions, and of apostolic teaching, it would seem
that no fair opportunity has been neglected for
putting the Churches on their guard against " the
pride of life." The most striking figures, the
aptest allusions, the strongest expressions, are
made use of to impress upon the heart the fleet-
ing character of these our earthly relationships,
and we are exhorted to cherish a state of feeling
appropriate to the fact. We are to weep as
though we wept not — to rejoice as though we
rejoiced not — to buy as though we possessed not
— to use this world as not abusing it — for the
fashion of this world passeth away. We are not
to be desirous of vain glory, provoking one
another, envying one another — but in lowhness of
mind, each is to esteem other better than them-
selves— we are to set our affections uj^on things
above, not on things on the earth — and since we
brought nothing into this world, and it is certain
we can carry nothing out, having food and raiment
we are therewith to be content, for they that wiU
be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and
pierce themselves through with many sorrows.
The brother of low degree is bidden to rejoice
that by the gospel he is exalted — the rich, that

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 193

by the same gospel he is made low. For since
God hath chosen the poor of this world rich in
faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath
promised to them that love him, we are to beware
how we despise the poor, and to have it in remem-
brance, that if we have respect to persons, we
commit sin, and are convicted as transgressors
of the royal law, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour
as thyself." I have strung together these passages
of holy writ, picked up by recollection and
at random, with a \'iew to remind the reader
that, on this as on other matters, there is a
thorough harmony of the practical exhortations
of Scripture with the spirit of its doctrinal dis-
coveries, and that both are diametrically opposed
to the giving any countenance by the Churches
to the aristocratic sentiment. Indeed, were the
distinctions of class which obtain amongst us,
and which are maintained by so much that is
selfish in principle, and exclusive in conduct,
recognised and sanctioned by that revelation
which is intended, by binding all to God, to
bind us to each other, and by opening up to us
the spiritual, to draw our thoughts, cares, and
affections, from the material — were Christianity to
affix the seal of its approval to our puerile
conventionalities, and mark as important and
meritorious our position in regard to the mere
accidents of our present state of being — there

194 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

would be ground for serious and reasonable
suspicion that the message had not come from
the Father of spirits. Why, even reason, unaided
by revelation, can see the arbitrary character,
as well as the inconvenient results, of these
distinctions — and many a heathen writer has
expressed in substance the truth so beautifully
sung by the Scottish poet,

" The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that."

" Having men's persons in admiration because
of advantage," that is, paying court to the great
and influential for what may be got by them,
has everywhere and always been considered an
odious trait of human conduct.

Guided, then, by these considerations, and
taking into our account the power exerted upon
us by a common governing purpose to Hquify,
if I may so say, our social feelings, and cause
them to commingle, we might reasonably have
supposed that within the precincts of the Church
of Christ, the distinctions which grow out of
worldly position, and which separate men into
exclusive classes, would speedily fade and become
invisible. I have somewhere read of beasts of
prey driven by raging tempest to the same place
of shelter with animals which it is their nature
to pursue — and during the terror excited by

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 195

clashing elements, their instincts of destruction
have been suspended, and lions and buffaloes,
wolves and stags, the savage and the timorous,
with man in their midst, have been seen huddled
together in one company, as if bound by the tie
of a common nature. Who has not witnessed
with delight, not unmingled with awe, the swaying
of some vast assembly by a master mind — and
how, as the orator rises into enthusiasm, every
sentence he utters, like an electric flash, shatters
or melts some conventional barrier between soul
and soul, until at length, filling the mass before
him with one and the same thought, and firing
every bosom with one and the same emotion, all
that is artificial and restrictive gives way, and
every man is, for the moment, upon a footing of
brotherhood with every other man then present.
But if a solemn purpose resolved on, or a powerful
emotion felt, in common by many individuals, suc-
ceeds thus in effacing those lines of distinction
which ordinarily interpose between class and class,
and in elevating simple humanity above all the
accidents of individual history and condition, is it
not natui'al to expect a similar result, if less violent
yet more permanent in its character, upon those
whom the message of reconciliation from heaven
has bowed to the same unalterable determination,
whose sympathies are ranged round the One
Eternal and all-glorious Majesty, whose hopes and

o 2

196 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT,

trusts and love are drawn out by the same
Redeemer, whose highest interests are in common,
and who together, as one body, are commissioned
by one Lord to work out the subhmest enterprise
ever entrusted to created intelligence? The un-
speakable grandeur of the truths disclosed to us
by the gospel might well produce in us a forgetful-
ness of our relative worldly positions of advantage
or disadvantage — ^just as in a company of men
gazing upon a stupendous mountain precipice m
presence of which they are all overwhelmed by a
sense of their own littleness, each would lose sight
of the few inches' difference of stature that
distinguish one from another in the tamer scenes
of nature. Here, if nowhere else, we should
expect the mspired sentence to hold emphatically
true — " The poor and the rich meet together —
the Lord is the maker of them all."

It is not without a sense of pain that I am
obliged, in passing on to an examination of the
state of the British Churches, in reference to this
matter, to furnish a melancholy contrast to what
expectation might have pictured. The aristocratic
sentiment has taken such hold upon them, has
diffused itself so generally through them, and has
modified to such a wide extent their opinions,
habits, and practices, that illustrations of its
presence and its power are difficult of selection,

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 197

simply because they are everywhere to be met
with. All denominations are affected — some, per-
haps, more than others — none so little as not to
detract from their influence and impede their
useiulness. Allowing, as we are bound to do, for
considerable diflerences of degree in the culpability
of diff"erent churches, it may be stated roughly,
that between the numerous and various associated
bodies of Christian disciples, and worldly society
at large, there is very little distinction visible in
reference to this evil. The same pride of class,
the same exclusiveness, the same deference to
rank and wealth, the same depreciating view
of poverty, the same struggle to keep up appear-
ances, the same notions of respectability, the same
frigid reserve on the one hand, and shrinking
timidity on the other, proceeding from the same
cause, and that cause having nothing whatever
moral in its character, are to be found inside, as
outside, the Christian Churches of our land. There
is a slight modification of the aristocratic sentiment
by religious sympathies, of course — more marked,
however, in individual cases than in organized
communities — and the type of the mischief may
be milder — but, substantially, the same features of
it are plainly discernible in the Church as in the
world. And, alas ! it touches and taints well-nigh
everything that can be afi'ected by it — opinion,
feeling, intercourse, worship, work. It would

198 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

almost seem to have been naturalized amongst us,
and really to be considered part and parcel of Chris-
tianity. It is, indeed, a national characteristic —
the formation and growth of a long series of
generations — and so deeply inwrought is it into
our social structure, so insidiously does it insinuate
itself into our judgments, and so tenaciously
cling to our feelings, that we find it difficult
to admit either the necessity or the wisdom of
utterly eradicating it. And yet it is in itself
as absurd, it is in its effects as pernicious, as the
prejudice against colour in the United States of
America, which we who have it not are at a loss
to conceive how Christian men can entertain.
Nay ! this is not the whole, nor the worst. Men
of eminence amongst us, ministers of the gospel,
which was to be preached to the poor, exponents
of God's word, to whom Churches have given
wistful and reverential heed, losing sight of the
apostolic declaration, that " God hath chosen the
foolish things of the world to confound the wise —
and God hath chosen the weak things of the world
to confound things that are mighty — and base
things of the world, and things which are de-
spised, hath God chosen, and things which are not,
to bring to naught things that are" — have seriously
contended for the necessity of adopting means for
raising the respectability of evangelical bodies, and
thus adapting them to th(> taste of the higher

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 199

classes of society. Let me not, however, in these
strictures, be misunderstood. I am aware that there
has lately sprung up a cant on this subject, against
which the thoughtful will do well to be upon
their guard. The many and serious evils resulting
from the action of the aristocratic sentiment in the
British Churches, have provoked in some minds
a re-action running to the opposite extreme, and a
spurious and mawkish sentimentalism has sought
to elevate poverty to a virtue, and to insist upon
the rights of toiling and hard-handed industry so
exclusively, as to suggest the idea that no other
rights exist. We must not, however, allow our-
selves to forget that God's good tidings by his
Son are for the rich as well as the poor — the
cultivated as well as the unlettered — the refined
as well as the rude — and that in the external form
of their promulgation, adaptation to habits, taste,
and modes of mental intercourse, is as necessary
for the one class as for the other. That which
appears to me to merit severest censure is, the
strong disposition evinced, and sometimes justified,
to treat as unbecoming, and even as a desecration
of revealed truth, all methods of exhibiting and
enforcing it which are not approved of by those
who call themselves the respectable section of
society, and the fear seemingly entertained by
some who ought to know better, that there is
little hope of progress for Truth, until she is

200 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

dressed in fashionable attire. " To the weak, I
became as weak," says the Apostle Paul, " that
I might win some," — but, surely, to the weak
only. To those who move in the more refined
and elevated circles, refinement in the outer
habiliments of the gospel may be fittingly and
wisely attended to — but it would appear to be lost
sight of that that which renders it commendable,
in regard to spiritual agency, is adaptation to the
wants of an important class ; and that the desire
to raise the entire system of means up to the
highest standard of worldly taste, is open to the
reproving inquiries of Paul, " If the whole body
were an eye, where were the hearing] If the
whole were hearing, where were the smelling 1
And if they were all one member, where were
the body]"

One observation further is called for before
passing on to give an example or two of the
influence of aristocratic feeling in our rehgious
organizations. Intimacy of association and inter-
course, based on congeniality of tastes, habits, and
pursuits, will undoubtedly link us more closely
with one class of society than another. The
friendships of Christian men, as well as of others,
pre-supposmg, as they must, a more than ordinary
community between mind and mind, will, for the
most part, be restricted to that circle they are most
accustomed to frequent, and with the members

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 201

of which they have most in common. I do
not regard this as the result of a faulty principle,
but of an invincible necessity. I see nothing in
it opposed to the genius of the gospel. It presents
itself to my mind in the light of a providential
arrangement, answering important and beneficent
purposes. Christianity, it is true, thoroughly
develops the social instincts of human nature,
but without trenching, in the slightest degree,
upon its individuality. There is, however, some
danger that this admission may be pleaded in
justification of a spirit which revealed truth utterly
condemns. Many a man bearing the Christian
name, and, perhaps, having in his heart somewhat
answering to his profession, lifted suddenly by worldly
prosperity from a lower to a higher station, deems
it thenceforth unbecoming to retain the intimacies
he once enjoyed, and seeks, not from any greater
congeniality of mind, but merely from a desire
to mdulge " the pride of life," exclusive com-
panionship with those of the class into which
his success has introduced him. And many a
man whose associations from infancy have been
with the wealthier and more fortunate ranks of
society, and whose qualifications fitted him to
improve and adorn them, has been exiled, Chris-
tian though he be, upon a calamitous reverse of
his afiairs, from that sphere in which his friend-
ships had been formed, and in which all the

202 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

fibres of his heart had rooted themselves, not
because he has lost anything which made him
congenial, but simply because his circumstances
have flung him down to a meaner condition of
temporal life. I am anxious that it should be
understood that it is this measure of a man's
worth by what he possesses that I characterise
as mischievous in our Churches. Closeness of
association, choice of friends, and familiarity of
companionship, founded upon similarity or identity
of taste, education, manners, and such like, difier
totally in kind, character, and tendency, from the
aristocratic sentiment which the general scope,
and express precepts of the New Testament con-
demn. There is a wide distinction between the
two things we have thus placed in juxta-position,
and it behoves us to be careful that we do not
confound them.

I propose now, with as much brevity as may
be, to illustrate the action of the aristocratic
sentiment upon the British Churches, in regard
to their religious sympathies, enterprises, and
machinery — what they feel, what they project,
and what they do — or, figuratively and broadly,
for the sake of impression, the heart, the head,
and the hands.

To close and impartial observation ample evi-
dence, I think, ^vill present itself of a general
and injurious modification of the sympathies of

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 203

the Churches, by the insidious, and, perhaps,
unsuspected influence exerted upon them by the
aristocratic sentiment. Wherever Christian prin-
ciples, legitimately pushed to their practical con-
sequences, would militate against the exclusive
claims of the Avealthier and more powerful classes,
or recognise and vindicate the rights of manhood,
as such, independently of worldly position and
circumstances, there is less frequency, less earnest-
ness, less conscientious fidelity, in the display and
exemplification of them. Between God's mode of
dealing respectively with the rich and the poor,
and the treatment of them by the Churches, there
is little correspondence. Religion, as embodied
in the written word of God, and in that more
emphatic living Word which " was made flesh, and
dwelt among us," uniformly champions, if I may
so speak, the cause of the weak, the friendless,
the oppressed — religion, embodied in modern orga-
nizations, preaches up the rights of the power-
ful, and dwells mainly upon the obligations of
the powerless. Originally, her voice was uplifted
with most impressive sternness against the injustice
and tyranny of the strong— now she oftener re-
bukes the discontent of the down-trodden and the
impotent. Once, her favourite occupation was to
move as an angel of love and mercy among
outcasts, to breathe hope into the spirits of the
desponding, to wipe away tears as they rolled

204 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

down the cheeks of the neglected, and to beget
self-respect in the hearts of the meanest and most
despised, by pointing upward to that Supreme
Power, in relation to whom all souls are equal,
and in whose presence all worldly distinctions
disappear — and when her impulses or duties took
her among the great, her theme of discourse was
the vanity of perishable honours and possessions
— the burden of her exhortation was, " Trust not
in oppression — become not vain in robbery — if
riches increase, set not your hearts upon them."
In our day, and through the medium of our
religious bodies, she is more at home with the
comfortable, than with the wretched, interests
herself in winning smiles from the influential,
and moots, with excess of caution, any sentiment
which carries with it an assurance that God has
freely given what the pride of man withholds. In
our sanctuaries there are never, or seldom, wanting
petitions to the Father of all, implying loyalty to
the throne, and due reverence for " the powers
that be " — those which intercede on behalf of the
forsaken, the crushed, the bleeding, the powerless
victims of might, arrogance, and cruelty, are '•' few
and far between." The tone pervading our pulpit
mmistrations, so far as they bear upon the rela-
tionship of class to class, which they do with
comparative infrequency, is not usually such as is
calculated to abase the lofty, or to raise and

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 205

encourage the low — to aim God's denunciations
against overbearing injustice, or to suggest con-
solation to, and inspire self-respect in, forgotten
or outraged indigence. The fact is as unques-
tionable as it is worthy of being deplored — but
it is not in all, or, perhaps, in many instances, to
be imputed to deliberate design or conscious
unfaithfulness. It is, more probably, one among
the numerous instances in which the subtle poison
of the aristocratic sentiment, taints, without
awakening suspicion, the manifestations of the
religious principle. We say one, for we might
adduce several others. Take, for example, the
common experience of unwelcome truths in push-
ing their way to universal acknowledgment. There
shall be the severest logic to prove them — the
most stirring eloquence to commend them — the
most persevering zeal to enforce them — but
whilst all the respectability of society pours con-
tempt upon them, the Churches look on in apparent
unconcern, opposing to their progress, if not a
direct antagonism, at all events a ponderous vis
inertia. But no sooner does a noble duke, or
a brace or two of lords, or even a baronet, if he
be but a distinguished man, proclaim himself a
patron and advocate of the unpopular doctrine,
than the sympathies of the Christian world begin
to gather round it. Argument in the mouths of
such men acquires an amazing accession of force —

206 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

old and oft-repeated trains of reasoning imme-
diately produce, one sees not why, the most
convincing results — and what it has ceased to be
vulgar to profess, it ceases to be difficult to believe.
I forbear troubling the reader with a multiplicity
of illustrations — my design being not to surfeit
him with details, but to guide him by selected
specimens. No intelligent man, I think, who is
accustomed to look about him, would be at a loss
in pointing out other proofs, various and decisive,
of the effects on the sympathies of the Churches,
both as it regards the subjects around which they
cluster, and the conditions under which they ordi-
narily show themselves, of the offensive leaven of
the aristocratic sentiment.

Scarcely less fertile of illustration are the enter-
prises of the British Churches — the general charac-
ter of their plans of usefulness. Foreign missions,
which at. first blush might seem to represent a
noble exception, present such an exception only
as confirms the rule. Extreme distance conceals
the vulgarity of human wretchedness, and invests
every effort to meet and relieve it with a tinted
atmosphere of romance. Hence many a man who
yearns for the conversion of the heathen at the an-
tipodes, and subscribes liberally to send the gospel
amongst them, evinces little or no compassion for
the scarcely less degraded heathen at home.
Foreign missions have passed thiough the stage of

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 207

contempt, and have even reached that of fashionable
patronage. Bishops and nobles, the wealthy and
the wise, merchants and mariners, almost all
classes have united their testimony in favour of
religious enterprise in this direction — and not to
be interested in it, is, in effect, to declare the good
opuiion of the world a matter of indifference.
But exceptions there are, although this be not
one, and we have reason to be grateful that they
are fast multiplying. Let me mention, as the
most striking of them, and as destined apparently
to be amongst the most useful — city missions,
ragged schools, and ragged kirks.* Perhaps, in-
deed, we should be justified in adding— that in
no department of religious manifestation has the
tide of improvement set in with greater force.
Still, I apprehend, we are bound to confess that
the leading characteristics of modern spiritual
enterprise exhibit largely the injurious operation
of the aristocratic sentiment. The sphere of them
has been predominantly bounded by the outer-
most limits of the middle classes — the machinery
they have brought into play, such as is adapted
to tell only within those limits — and the standard
of success, one which takes worldly respectability

* I take this opportunity of referring, with extreme gratification,
to a little tract printed at Aberdeen, and circulated in that city, and
occasionally to be met with in other parts of Scotland, entitled,
" Ragged Kirks, and how to fill them."

208 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

fully into account. Certainly the Churches have
not so systematically " gone out into the highways
and hedges," bearing with them the message of
salvation, as to warrant us in referring to it as
their habitual practice. On the contrary, in large
towns — for the description is not so applicable to
the rural districts^ — the supply of direct religious
means is regulated, not by the wants of the popu-
lation, but by prospects of pecuniary support.
The thriving neighbourhood attracts all denomi-
nations; the poor are comparatively overlooked.
Young men, consecrating themselves to the minis-
try of the word of life, aspire to a comfortable
settlement rather than a wide scope for useful
activity. In a word, we plan our spiritual under-
takings much as we should do were we convinced
that men's immortal souls are of importance in
proportion to the elevation they have attained
on the social scale. In regard to the use of the
press, as an instrument of religious instruction and
impression, we have exhibited the same preference
of quality over numbers. Had we conjoined the
wisdom of the serpent with the harmlessness of
the dove, we should have been to the full as
anxious to extend the range of our Christian
literature as to heighten its tone; but our efforts
at adaptation have pretty uniformly had a look
upwards. I acknowledge, not only the exist-
ence, but the usefulness of the Rehgious Tract

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 209

Society. But what is this amongst so many 1 The
utmost eiFected, or even attempted, by this and
similar agency, amounts to but little more than a
bare confession of our responsibility in the matter,
and, as compared with what is done to make
the press available for the service of the middle
classes, proves that enterprise seldom looks beneath
them. Had it done so, and done so with sagacity
as well as determination, the British Churches
would not have left till now to individual zeal,
all effort to abolish the monopoly of printing
the sacred Scriptures — a restriction upon the
liberty of the subject, and a practical impediment
in the way of divine knowledge, which would
never have been tolerated but for the sanction
given to it by the ruling class of the community.
Had it done so, it would have rung remonstrance
in the ears of the legislature against the continu-
ance of taxes on knowledge, the repressive in-
fluence of which upon popular literature, spiritual
as well as secular, useful as well as pernicious,
it is impossible fairly to estimate until they have
been wholly removed. Had it done so, the
masses of our countrymen would not have been
so long neglected, or when specifically addressed,
addressed in a style so utterly unsuited to attract
their interest, or to lay hold upon their sympathy
— nor should we have been compelled to deplore,
as now we must, that the children of this world,

210 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

wiser in their generation than the cliildren of light,
have been beforehand with us, and have sown a
crop of pernicious sentiments, and infidel opinions,
which the best directed efforts of all the Churches
during the next quarter of a century, will hardly
succeed in rooting out of the soil. The state
of things to which I have now adverted appears
to my mind evidence but too decisive that the
religious enterprise of the British Churches has
not been deeply interested in seeking the welfare
of the children of toil or the victims of indigence.
It has spent its strength chiefly upon the classes
above them, seemingly satisfied with allowing them
permission to pick up " the crumbs which fall from
the master's table." The insidious power of the
aristocratic sentiment has left its traces upon
most of the Churches' attempts to evangelize
the country, and to win the heart for God.

As might have been anticipated, practice follows
in the same track as project; and what the
Churches do, bears a close resemblance in cha-
racter to what they plan. I profess here, as,
indeed, throughout, to describe only what is
general. Exceptions, and, in this instance, large
ones, I cheerfully admit. But I am bound to
say, that in watching the operations of our reli-
gious institutions, whenever I have endeavoured
to put myself in the position of the humbler
classes, and have asked myself, "What is there

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 211

here to interest such V I have been at a loss for
a reply. I do not arraign architectural magni-
ficence— we cannot, indeed, boast much of it
outside of the EstabHshment — for in continental
countries I am not aware that it discourages the
humblest worshipper. But here, in Great Britain,
we carry our class distinctions into the house
of God, whether the edifice be a splendid monu-
ment of art, or whether it be nothing superior
to a barn. The poor man is made to feel that
he is a poor man, the rich is reminded that
he is rich, in the great majority of our churches
and chapels. The square pew, carpeted, perhaps,
and curtained, the graduated scale of other pews,
the free-sittings, if there are any, keep up the
separation between class and class; and even
where the meanly-clad are not conscious of intru-
sion, as is sometimes painfully the case, the
arrangements are generally such as to preclude
in their bosoms any momentary feeling of essential
equality. We have no negro pews, for we have
no prejudice against colour — but we have distinct
places for the pennyless, for we have a morbid
horror of poverty. Into a temple of worship
thus mapped out for varying grades of worshippers,
in which the lowly and the unfortunate are
forbidden to lose sight of their worldly circum-
stances, some such, spite of all discouragements,
find their way. In the singing, it may be, they

p 2

212 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

can join, and mingle their voices and their sym-
pathies with those around them — unless, indeed,
the more respectable tenants of the pews, deeming
it ill-bred to let themselves be heard, leave the
psalmody to the Sunday-school children, and the
vulgar. Possibly, their emotions may be elicited
by prayer — seldom, we should think, by the dis-
course. It may be excellent, persuasive, pungent
— but, in multitudes of cases, it will also be
cast in a mould which none but the educated
can appreciate. Let it not be said that this is
owing exclusively to their ignorance. " The
common people heard " our Lord " gladly " —
the early reformers won their way to the inmost
hearts of the lowliest of men — and even those
who in our day are judged to be too uncultured
to profit by the ministry of God's word from
the pulpit, are sufficiently intelligent to derive
interest from a public political meeting, to appre-
ciate the points of a speech from the hustings,
and to feel the force of an argument when put
to them in private. No ! it is not altogether
ignorance which prevents them from following
the generality of preachers. It is the entire
absence of coloquialism from the discourse — an
absence imposed upon the speaker by that sense
of propriety which the aristocratic sentiment
engenders. The etiquette of preaching prescribes
an exclusively didactic style — and an address,

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 213

the aim of which is to save souls, is supposed
to approximate towards perfection, in proportion
as it is free from conversational blemishes and
inaccuracies, satisfies a fastidious and classical
taste, and flows on in one unbroken stream from
its commencement to its close. The consequence
is, that whilst some few are pleased, and, perhaps,
profited, the mass remain utterly untouched.
Oh ! for some revolution to break down for ever,
and scatter to the four winds of heaven, our
pulpit formulas and proprieties, and leave men
at liberty to discourse on the sublime verities
of the Christian faith, with the same freedom,
variety, and naturalness, with which they would
treat other subjects in other places ! The service
concludes, and the worshippers retire. Commu-
nion mth God has not disposed them to com-
munion with each other, beyond the well-defined
boundaries of class. The banker or the merchant
pays no more attention to the small tradesman,
or the tradesman to the labourer, in the sanctuary
than out of it. All is artificial and conventional
there as elsewhere. The distinctions which obtain
in the world, and which do little to improve it,
obtain likewise in the Church, and are preserved
with the same unyielding tenacity. And every
arrangement appears to have been conceived upon
a principle precisely identical with that denounced
with such severity by the Apostle James — "If there

214 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT,

come unto your assembly a man with a gold
ring, in goodly apparel, and there come m also
a poor man in vile raiment ; and ye have respect
to him that weai*eth the gay clothing, and say
unto him, Sit thou here in a good place ; and
say to the poor, Stand thou there, or sit here under
my footstool ; are ye not then partial in yourselves,
and are become judges whose thoughts are evil "? "
I will not proceed further. I will not detain
the reader with other instances. I have gone
far enough to illustrate what I intended —
namely, the pernicious influence of the aristo-
cratic sentiment upon the character, efforts, and
proceedings of the British Churches.

The influence of the practical inconsistency
on which we have been animadverting, is fatally
obstructive to the successful prosecution of Chris-
tian enterprise in this country — not more so,
however, than the nature of things might have
led us to anticipate. The gospel of Christ, fraught
though it be with inestimable blessings, is not
a welcome message to men naturally disinclined
to yield themselves to the moral claims of God,
and needs, in order to an impressive display of
its attractions, to be set off and commended by
all those ornaments of human character and
conduct, which have a tendency to secure for
it thoughtful consideration. It tells the story of

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 215

God's marvellous condescension, and it aims
thereby at conquering the pride of the heart.
It is an exhibition of touching and gratuitous
love revealed for the purpose of awakening a
responsive affection. An unfeigned spirit of
brotherhood is what it professes to evoke — a com-
parative disregard of things temporal and perish-
able, and an appreciation of the real, the true,
the spiritual, the indestructible, are the main
characteristics of that state of mind which belief
in it is said to produce. It was evidently, as
we have already seen, no mean feature of God's
beneficent design, to turn upon the notice of
a thoughtless and unwilling world, a softened
and dim reflection of his mind, in the lives of
Christ's disciples, with a view to steal away its
prejudices, and to conciliate for his truth so much
of good-will, as might clear the way for the
unimpeded exercise of its moral power. And
had this part of the Divine plan been faithfully
carried out by the Churches — had they, in sym-
pathy with the truths they proclaimed, evinced,
in the temper of their members, in the character
of their fellowship, in the conduct of their worship
and service, and in their leading plans of philan-
thropy, any striking proof of having drunk into
the doctrines of their Master, and of having
lost sight, in the grandeur of man's being and
destiny, as shadowed forth by revelation, of the

216 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

little, worthless distinctions which variety of
earthly lot has produced, Christianity would have
had a brighter history than now, and would have
been able to point to larger and more decisive
results. Every organization of believing men
would, in such case, have been a mirror, in which
the most reckless and degraded of the children of
humanity might have caught a glimpse of the
essential dignity of that nature with which God
has endowed them, and of the infinite superiority of
the moral to the material, in all that pertains to
their earthly career. Every Church would have
been a moving exemplification of the fact, that God
is no respecter of persons, and that in the kingdom
of his Son, men are honoured, not for what they
have, but for what they are. And since the mass
of our fellow-creatures in all countries are the
poor, it is impossible to calculate what might
have been the moral power of the gospel had the
display of it by the Churches uniformly turned
towards them this benign, and attractive, and
elevating aspect. Three-fourths of the human
family would have been made conscious, for the
first time, of a title to respect which the maxims
of society, and the meanness of their own circum-
stances, had united to conceal even from them-
selves— and the unexpected honour done to them,
to whom honour was previously a stranger, by
God's truth, and those who had embraced it,

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 217

would have begotten a reverence both for it and
them, eminently conducive to a successful presen-
tation of its spiritual claims. Christianity would
speedily have acquired, as it emphatically deserves,
the reputation of being " the friend of man " —
the guardian of his rights — the vindicator of
those claims which, irrespectively of worldly
position, are due to his nature. The geniality,
the kindliness, the noble generosity, the lofty
spirituality of the system, would thus have made
themselves felt, and gratefully felt, even before
its formal message of mercy was enounced — and
benevolence beaming lustrously from the coun-
tenance of Christ's Church would have won
attention, and, perhaps, good-will to the higher
verities she was commissioned to unfold.

Painful, indeed, is the contrast between what
might have been, and what is. With more or
fewer exceptions, the British Churches have exem-
plified anything but this generous carelessness
to social and conventional distinctions. The
consequences of their unfaithfulness in this matter
we are now about to contemplate. Our glance
must needs be a hasty one — but it will suffice,
we hope, to impress upon the mind of the reader,
a vivid notion of the importance, we may even
say the necessity, of exorcising from our Christian
assemblies, the aristocratic spirit.

It may be observed, then, that to a very wide

218 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

extent, the purport of the gospel is misunderstood
by the poor, and its pretensions have fallen under
suspicion. There are, alas, not a few moving
in the humbler walks of life, who regard Christi-
anity as an artfid contrivance devised to keep
the poor in subjection, and who are active in
diffusing the pernicious calumny. Unfortunately,
they can invest their assertions with an air of
plausibility, by placing them in the light of
notorious and every-day facts. They point trium-
phantly to what is common in the Churches,
and what is obtrusively apparent to every observer
— pride of station, exclusiveness of spirit, and
contempt of the poor — and they ask, whether
a religion which leaves such evils untouched,
is likely to have come from God, the Maker of
us all. And their converts are far more numerous
than we have been in the habit of supposing.
There is, in the very heart of our working classes,
a leaven of bitter infidelity, which is silently
working its way, and threatens, unless destroyed,
to corrupt the entire body. The power of that
infidehty may, I think, be ascribed, not to the
force of any reasoning employed by its advocates,
nor, principally, to the ignorance of those whom
they address — but to the deep discontent of soul
which a sense of social ostracism has engendered.
The majority of our over- wrought labourers,
whether manufacturing or agricultural, are thrust

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 219

into a position which taxes their endurance to
the utmost, but which offers no compensation
or rehef. There is nothing about them to cheer
them under hardship, or to soothe them in their
misery. All things go against them. Turn
whithersoever they will, exactions are still made
upon their patience. They are denied even the
solace of hope. The future is darker, aye !
darker than the present. What wonder, if a
spirit of sullen resentment gradually rise within
them — a temper prompting them to quarrel with,
and defy, all that is above them, human or
divine 1 It is upon human nature in this state
that the poison of infidelity fastens — this is just
the constitution to take the infection, and develop
the virulence of the disease. It is vain to urge
that such men are not justified in taking their
measure of revelation from human frailties instead
of from the sacred Scriptures. That they are
unjustifiable does not alter the fact, that their
unmitigated, unnoticed, uncompassionated wretch-
edness fosters in them a disposition to kick at
divine truth, and to take a sort of grim pleasure
in their rebellion against its authority. Their
whole antecedent history, it may be, leads them
to conclude it a foe, and to treat it as such.
The terrible popular Atheism of the first French
Revolution, intolerant, spiteful, fiendish, was not
chiefly the effect of philosophic waitings, nor

220 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

a revulsion, as is generally supposed, from childish
superstition — for amongst a contented people,
philosophy, so called, might have plied its polished
weapons to little purpose, and superstition might
have continued with comparative safety to " play
its fantastic tricks before high heaven." No !
that Atheism was the savage and defiant yell
of a multitude whom sympathy had never come
near to soften — whom kindness had never addressed
— whose genial emotions nothing had ever awa-
kened— whose hearts no previous care or com-
passion had linked to the good and the true.
They whom society had treated as brute beasts
became such. Left alone with their misery,
and despised on account of it, they grew ferocious.
Revenge nestled in their bosoms, and hatched
there every malignant passion — and they evi-
dently derived a horrid satisfaction from offering
the most offensive insult to the Majesty on high.
Let us not flatter ourselves that any such outburst
of unbelieving fanaticism is impossible in this
country. I deem it not only possible, but, unless
the outward lot of our poor slaving myriads
unexpectedly brighten, and if the Churches con-
tinue to indulge, as they now do, the spirit of
caste, I regard it as not unlikely, nor, perhaps,
so remote as our desires would fain conclude.
If our representation of practical Christianity
exiles the most oppressed, the meanest, and the

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 221

most wretched of our countrymen, from the pale
of religious sympathy, we have no right to be
surprised that their resentment should see in
our Christianity a foe to be humbled by any
and every means within their reach. Now I
submit that this danger, if it cannot be directly
traced up to the action of the aristocratic senti-
ment in the Churches, might have been, to a
great extent, or even wholly, obviated, by an
uniform and fitting exemplification of that large
and catholic love, which overlooks the mere
accidents of worldly position, and shows an equal
interest in man, whether wealthy or destitute,
honoured or obscure. The spirit of the world
carried into the Church, and cherished there, has
exposed the gospel to unmerited suspicion, and
deprived it of its moral attractiveness and influ-
ence precisely where they would otherwise have
told with most decisive effect.

Would that what we have described, lamentable
as it is, were the whole of the evil ! The negative
side of it, however, is of a hue scarcely less
melancholy than the positive. The claims of
God by his Son, our Lord and Saviour, presented
to men through the medium of our religious
organizations, although not generally met, on the
part of the humbler classes, with settled unbelief,
and bitter antipathy, fail to awaken interest,
almost to excite notice. The Principality of

222 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

Wales stands out, it must be confessed, as a
cheering exception. The several sects of Metho-
dism, too, in this country, have done enough
to prove that the masses may be permeated and
subdued by divine truth when aptly and fervently
enforced upon them. Indeed, but for their assi-
duous attention to the poor, their comparative
disregard of social distinctions in their eccle-
siastical economy, and their wise adaptation
of means to ends in their machinery of
aggression upon the world, it is hard to conceive
what would now have been the desperate spiritual
condition of the working classes in this country.
Nor am I disposed to deny that the Churches
of other denominations attach to themselves,
and operate upon, indi\T.duals moving in the
sphere of poverty, in varying proportions. But
there are few, I should imagine, who will contro-
vert the statement, that religious profession, and
respect for the public means of grace, are far
more common amongst, and characteristic of,
the middle, than the labouring classes, in Great
Britain. The bulk of our manufacturing popu-
lation stand aloof from our Christian institutions.
An immense majority of those who in childhood
attend our Sabbath schools, neglect, throughout
the period of manhood, all our ordinary appli-
ances of spiritual instruction and culture. When
disease creeps upon them, or death looks them

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 223

in the face, early association may have power
enough over many to induce them to send for
a minister of the gospel, and request his conver-
sation and his prayers. But evidence is abun-
dant and conclusive that they generally pass
through the prime of life, and too frequently
reach its appointed term, without being even
momentarily attracted, and without being in the
slightest degree interested, by what the Churches
of Christ are doing in their respective neighbour-
hoods. The operatives of these realms, taken as
a body, and the still more numerous class whose
employment is less regular, and whose temporal
prospects are still more discouraging and preca-
rious, must be described as living beyond even
occasional contact with the institutions of Chris-
tian faith and worship. They feel no sympathy
with them — they evince no respect for them.
Their views, their tastes, their habits, their pur-
suits, if influenced at all by Divine revelation,
are influenced only by its extremely indirect and
reflex power. The Churches which, if they were
true to the spirit of their mission, and the design
of their Lord, would have penetrated this large
section of society with a feehng that it was cared
for, and would have presented so many green
spots in the world's wilderness, in which man,
however outcast, might count on sympathy from
man — the Churches, which might and ought to

224 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

have won from this overburdened, underfed, and
sorely neglected class, a general confidence, resem-
bling that formerly given by negro slaves to
missionaries in the West Indies — the Churches
which should have turned the very hardships,
and privations, and unbefriended loneliness, of these
people to account, by offering to them the respect
due to their nature, and the commiseration due
to their condition, and wherever it was possible,
countenance, counsel, and aid — the Churches are,
to all practical purposes, as little known, as little
cared for, as little trusted in, by this numerous
body, as if they had no existence. Seldom,
indeed, have they diffused throughout their
respective vicinities such an odom- of kindli-
ness as to refresh the weary spirits of the outlying-
poor. Their very object is often strangely misun-
derstood. They are regarded, too often, as a mere
association for the advantage of the minister who
preaches to them, on the Sabbath — or, at best, for
obtaining that religious instruction which the mem-
bers wish to acquire. Tens of thousands of men
feel no more interest in them, nor deem themselves
called upon to feel, than a busy tradesman may
chance to do in a neighbouring literary institute.
They have no taste for hearing discourses upon
a subject which they disrelish, and cast into a
mould which has no charms for them. They
are generally very ignorant — they are often deeply

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 225

depraved — they toil too unremittingly for a bare
subsistence to allow of their throwing away their
few hours of leisure upon what excites no emotion
in their bosoms. And the Churches have evinced
no great anxiety to lure them upwards. They
ordinarily pass through life, therefore, almost
without thought of a spiritual existence. Occa-
sionally, a religious tract reaches them — sometimes
a visit is paid to them. But they are disposed
to look upon these direct efforts, as merely the
result of a desire to win proselytes. In no other
visible way does a Christian Church in their
neighbourhood appear to be a blessing to them.
It does not sensibly increase the amount of
attention paid to the poor. It does not create
an atmosphere of sympathy for them. It does
not, by its example, rebuke the common neglect
with which they are treated. It does not recognise
their rights where denied — nor vindicate their
just claims to consideration — nor exhibit Chris-
tianity as the stern foe of oppression, and as
the feeling fiiend, as well as monitor, of the
helpless and the desolate. Hence, its religious
teachings and services are utterly disregarded.
Now, I ask any man of reflection, is the mournful
fact surprising ] Could we reasonably have anti-
cipated otherwise '? Have we, after the example
of the Friend of publicans and sinners, " stooped
to conquer ■? " Have we, like the Apostle of the

Q

226 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

Gentiles, used "guile," the guile of sympathizing
and disinterested kindness, to win souls ? On
the contrary, have not our plans, for the most
part, left out of sight the large class of whom
we have been speaking, and our organizations
manifested far more aptitude in meeting the
tastes and habits of the thriving, than in minis-
tering to the wants and necessities of the indigenf?
The fruit of our indulgence of the aristocratic
sentiment is, that upon the working classes,
regarded as a whole, the Churches have no influ-
ence. The methods they adopt, and the spirit
they cherish, do not, and cannot, bring home
to the mass of the poor, the glad tidings of
salvation. The message of love is not recom-
mended to the notice of this large and important
portion of society, by the warmth and generosity
of those who profess to deliver it. Their mission
is, in this respect, a failure — a failure attributable
chiefly to themselves. Their Master put within
their reach all the elements of splendid success
— pointed out clearly, by his own life and labours,
as well as by those of his apostles, the way to it
— and plied them with the highest and grandest
motives to seek it — and, alas! all in vain. They
now reap as they have sowed — sparingly — and
they wonder at the ill-favoured character of their
harvest.

I will only mention one other mode in wliich

THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT. 227

the aristocratic sentiment operates as an impedi-
ment to the efficient prosecution of Christian
enterprise, and then dismiss the subject. The
maintenance of class distinctions in the Churches
necessarily hinders the natural development of very
much of that moral power which they may happen
to possess. "Union is strength;" but living, hearty,
prolific union there cannot be, in things spiritual
and eternal, where worth is measured by the
shifting accidents of life. There may be conti-
guity, but there is no fusion — conglomeration, but
not oneness. There may be eyes, hands, feet
— but they are only nominally members of the
same body. The eyes guide, not the hands —
the hands are not carried to their proper object
by the feet. There is a lack of intercommunion
and mutual assistance. Riches and poverty, intel-
ligence and ignorance, judgment and zeal, reflection
and activity, heads to plan, hearts to welcome,
hands to execute, may be in close juxta-position,
but of no use to each other. They are separated
by a conventional line of worldly proprieties, and
each withers for want of the exercise which the
other might elicit. And then, it is fitting that
we call to mind the moral opportunities which run
to waste — the condescension, kindliness, love, grati-
tude, confidence, joy, which might be continually
brought into Y)lay, and are not — the virtues which
on all sides might be breathed and strengthened,

Q 2

228 THE ARISTOCRATIC SENTIMENT.

but are suffered to remain dormant — the balmy
and genial atmosphere, friendly to the rapid
growth of Christian character of every variety,
that might be diffused, but is not — the gladness
which in rehgion is power, that might be promoted
and maintained, but of which nothing is known.
Oh ! these freezing conventionalities ; one will
never know how much good they nip in the bud,
how much sap they prevent from rising and
fulfilling its functions, until they have yielded
in our Churches to the glow of unfeigned and
unrestricted brotherly love ! until, instead of many
sections, there is one heart ! until the manners of
a selfish world cease to govern Christian disciples
in their spiritual relationship to each other! He
would, in our day, be the best friend of the Church,
who should prove himself able to say, with effect,
to the aristocratic spirit which now possesses and
torments her, as Paul to the divining demon of the
Philippian damsel, " I command thee in the name
of Jesus Christ to come out of her."

CHAPTER Y.

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

CONTENTS.

MORAL POWER EVOLVED BY ORGANIZED ASSOCIATION — ORGANI-
ZATION PRESUPPOSES GOVERNMENT — "THE MINISTRY," COMPARA-
TIVELY LITTLE SAID ABOUT IT IN THE NEW TESTAMENT —
" OVERSIGHT " AND " TEACHING " CLEARLY DISTINCT FUNCTIONS —
" TEACHING " CLASSED BY THE NEW TESTAMENT WITH OTHER
" GIFTS " — MODERN NOTIONS OF A " MINISTERIAL ORDER " NOT
SCRIPTURAL— CHURCH MACHINERY IN APOSTOLIC TIMES — THE PRO-
FESSIONAL SENTIMENT FOUNDED ON MISTAKEN VIEWS OF THE
MINISTRY — FED BY, MINISTERIAL EDUCATION — ORDINATION — LIMI-
TATION OF ELDERSHIP IN EACH CHURCH TO ONE PERSON — RENUN-
CIATION OF SECULAR PURSUITS — CLERICAL TITLES, DRESS, &C. —
EVILS ENTAILED ON THE CHURCHES BY THE PROFESSIONAL SENTI-
MENT— FOSTERS THE MULTIPLICATION OF "INTERESTS" — TRANSFERS
RESPONSIBILITY FROM THE CHURCH TO THE MINISTER — REPRESSES
LAY TALENT AND ENTERPRISE — NOURISHES MINISTERIAL esprit

de cor])s — exposes the proclamation of the gospel to serious

DISADVANTAGES — CONCLUSION.

CHAPTER V.

In the glance we have already taken at God's plan
for putting the truths of his gospel in contact with
men's minds and hearts, we recognise, as one
important feature of it, the employment of orga-
nized associations. As far as research has yet
extended, it would seem that there is not a single
moral power which mind can bring to bear upon
mind, with a view to influence its choice, of which
Christianity has not availed itself in order to the fur-
therance of its beneficent object. Foremost amongst
the powers capable of exerting upon man a
governing force, must be ranked that which is
developed by a systematic association of indi-
viduals. As in physics, so in morals, it is
possible, by due arrangements, to collect what is
diffused, to combine what, in its normal position,
would be isolated, and, by a concentration of
influences, and an orderly direction of their force,
to make them tell with intense eff'ect upon
any given point. We have been so constituted

232 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

that where it might be easy for us to resist the
will of one man, it becomes almost impossible
to hold out against the united wills of many.
The philosophy of this I seek not to explain, —
it suffices to our present purpose that such is
the fact. Of this fact, all men who have attained
to any degree of civilization are aware — and all
men whose object it has been to convince and
persuade their fellows, have attempted, more or
less successfully, to yoke this law of our nature
to the car of their designs. Association evolves
a moral power — organization presents a machinery
for the regular and manageable action of that
power — organized associations, therefore, may be
regarded as an economical application of the
elements of moral force lying within our reach,
or that conformity to the laws which God has
impressed upon them, which will give them fittest
scope for complete development. Churches, as
we have seen, are organized associations framed
with a view to spiritual results. That our Lord
has graciously willed their existence does not
imply that he has determined to work by their
agency exclusively — but it does point us to the
inevitable conclusion that there is an aptitude
in this kind of instrumentality for securing results
of a higher kind, or in a larger amount, than
separate individual agency could have accom-
plished.

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 233

All organization supposes authority on the one
hand, and subordination on the other — a promi-
nent idea clothed, in some way or other, with the
attributes of law — and separate and various
agencies governed by that idea — somewhat, be
it what it may, to say perpetually, and to
say with effect, to all the parts of the moral
machinery, " This is your object," — and more or
fewer individual forces, in one view of them inde-
pendent, in another closely connected, to be
regulated by that word of command. And there
are two aspects in which authority, necessary to
the coherence and action of organized association,
may be viewed — namely, in its source, and in the
mode of its application. The governing power
may be originally and ultimately in the entire com-
munity to be controlled by it, but to some extent,
at least, it must be delegated for present use to
some kind of representative of it. Whose mind
should be accepted as authoritative, is one question
— what tongue shall express that mind is another.
Experience, however, corroborates the teachings
of reason, that wherever there is law, of any
kind, there must also be a symbol and custodian
of law. The Christian Churches present no ex-
ception to the rule. Their purpose is one — their
members more than one. To be united, their
effort must be orderly; in other words, must be
conformed to rule. That rule it must be the

234 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

special care of some party to proclaim and enforce.
In brief, organization implies government — govern-
ment, an executive. In spiritual societies, as well
as in secular ones, there must needs be power
and subjection, and a relationship, together with
respective responsibilities and duties, between the
two. It is with that conclusion, abstractedly as
it has been stated, that we have at present to deal.
All the subsidiary questions growing out of it
— questions affecting the form of Christian
Churches, their methods of discipline, and such
like, we purposely set aside. The simple object
before us now is, to take this abstract idea of
necessary authority in organized associations into
the light of the New Testament, and patiently
endeavour to ascertain how far it gives encourage-
ment to that which we propose in the present
chapter to analyze, illustrate, and condemn — to
"v^dt, THE Professional Sentiment.

There can be no necessity to detain the reader
by producing citations, either from the Gospels or
the Epistles, to prove that Christ's arrangements for
the spiritual recovery of the world, plainly recognise
a ruling authority in his Churches. Dimly, per-
haps, in his OAvn discourses, more plainly in the
inspired letters of his apostles, we discern the
will of the Master, that there should be, if I may
so speak, a localization of governing power, and
a due subjection of the several members to it.

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 235

And this is nearly the whole extent of what we
do discern. Indeed, when one sits down to study
the New Testament with a view to ascertain what
it teaches us on the subject of the ministry, one
is almost startled to find so little, and that little
so incidentally introduced. Looking at the vast
and towering superstructure which subsequent
ages have raised, and the surprising importance
which Christian men, of nearly every denomination,
have attached to clerical agency, it is certainly
matter of wonder that the scriptural basis upon
which the whole system is thought to repose, is so
strikingly narrow. Modern notions respecting
what we term the sacred office, and the various
functions and responsibilities pertaining to it, find
themselves very much, and very oppressively, alone,
when wandering over the ground of inspiration.
Were it possible to blot out of our minds all the
views which have found an entrance there from
sources which few will pretend to be sacred, and
some of which do not lie above the region of
depraved passions, and to take our impression
from the few hints left us on record in the word
of God, it is certain that very little indeed resem-
bling in the least our present conceptions would
be the result. The extremely simple ideas de-
veloped by scripture on this head, are even now,
in most Churches, choked up and concealed by
some portion of the debris which the turbid

236 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

current of ecclesiastical history has everywhere left
behind it. It is well for us to bear this in remem-
brance, whenever our investigations lead us into
this region — because here, more than anywhere
else, the views of the Churches have been exposed
to the force and sweep of human corruptions.

Thus far, I think, we are conducted by New
Testament authority — that the Churches of Jesus
Christ, in order to their efficiency, are to be under
government of some kind, and that such govern-
ment is to be exercised over them by appointed
officers. When the functions of these officers are
alluded to, the expressions made use of invariably
refer to the authority mth which they are en-
trusted in regulating the movements of the body
over which they preside. They are described as
" over " the saints, as " having the rule " over
them, as " admonishing " them. They are desig-
nated indifferently, and by interchangeable terms,
overseers and elders. Since to " take care of the
Church of God " is the end whereto they are
set apart, they must be men who " know how to
rule their own houses." They are to "take the
oversight of the flock," " not as being lords over
God's heritage, but as ensamples." Here, then,
is the prominent idea — certain individuals in each
organized society of Christians, exercising over
it a moral sway, guiding its movements, adjusting
and maintaining order amongst its members.

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 237

helping here, admonishing there, taking good
heed both of doctrine and of morals, that the
machinery whereby Christ's gospel is to be pre-
sented to the world may be preserved in the
highest possible state of efficiency. What I do
not find in the New Testament, is, that to these
elders, or overseers, to whom is given the presiding
authority necessary to all human organizations,
spiritual as well as secular, the work of teaching,
whether in the Church or out of it, is exclusively
vouchsafed. Whilst, on the one hand. Christian dis-
ciples generally are exhorted to edify one another,
and, wherever the gift of teaching is bestowed,
to exercise it freely, it is implied, on the other, that
although aptness to teach is a desirable qualification
of a bishop, or elder, it is not absolutely requisite
that he should be engaged in this work ; for Paul,
writing to Timothy, says, " Let the elders that rule
well be counted worthy of double honour, espe-
cially they who labour in the word and doctrine."
Ruling, then, in the Churches, in apostolic times,
was not identified exclusively with teaching, nor
teaching with ruling. " Feeding the flock," a
phrase employed to describe the duty of an " over-
seer," although it naturally includes the public
ministration of the word of life, has, probably, other
references equally pertinent. There can be little
doubt that " oversight " usually carried with it in
those times, " aptness to teach," most of the virtues

238 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

qualifying for the one, being also necessary to
the other. There can be, I think, as little, that
the work of tuition was not peculiar to those who
had been called to presidency. Just as in our
own day, a talent for debate may be set down as
a high qualification of a cabinet minister, although
his special office is that of administration rather
than oratory — so in the first ages of the Church,
it was not unnatural to point out as one qualifica-
tion of the ruling power, ability to labour with
acceptance and profit " in word and doctrine." I
will not push this train of remark beyond my
original intention. That which I wish to point
out just now is — that the writings of the New Testa-
ment do not authorize the conclusion that it is the
prerogative, or the peculiar and exclusive duty,
of any class in the Church of Christ, to commu-
nicate to others the gospel of God — nor that
either the revealed will of the Lord, or the
preservation of order, or the necessity of the case,
sanctions the committal into the hands of him
who presides over a spiritual community, of a
monopoly of those instructional ministrations
whereby the Church itself is to be edified, or
the world converted — nor that any one thing
which is now deemed to be essentially clerical,
exclusively appertains to the office of bishop, or
presbyter, or pastor, or minister, designate it as
you may, but presidency over the body — nor that,

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT, 239

in a word, the essential and distinctive idea which
the sacred writings attach to the spiritual " over-
seer," is leading the devotions of a Church ;
preaching the word, dispensing the ordinances,
visiting the sick, and engrossing all spiritual func-
tions; but without shutting him out from a due,
and, perhaps, a prominent share of these engage-
ments, governing the Christian community, taking
care that Christ's law is obeyed, and so ordering
affairs, as that Christ's purpose may be accom-
plished. Under the regulating moral power of
the Church's embodied authority, all the aptitudes,
gifts, powers, and influences, of each member are
to be freely exercised, in accordance with the
beautiful exhortation of the apostle — " Having
then gifts differing according to the grace that
is given us; whether prophecy, let us prophesy
according to the proportion of faith; or ministry,
let us wait on our ministering; or he that
teacheth, on teaching; or he that exhorteth, on
exhortation; he that giveth, let him do it with
simplicity ; he that ruleth, with diligence ; he that
showeth mercy, with cheerfulness."

Striving to discard from my mind all those
preconceptions with regard to the Christian
ministry, the origin of which may be discovered
in ecclesiastical history, and the only apparent
scriptural sanction for which is obtained by con-
founding gospel preachers with the Jewish priest-

240 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

hood, and taking my views directly from the
New Testament, I can draw no other conclusion
than that the presentation of divine truth to the
minds of others, its elucidation, and its enforce-
ment, occupied, in apostolic times, a place alongside
of other " gifts," by the exercise of which, under
the regulating authority of the ruling j)ower,
disciples might be edified, or unbelievers won
over to the faith. After an effort to realize, in
my own apprehension, the actual circumstances by
which the earliest Christian societies were sur-
rounded, the customs then prevailing, and the
religious wants then felt, I cannot, with the con-
currence of my judgment, imagine anything similar,
even in spirit, to what so largely and generally
obtains in the present day. Doubtless, they who
ministered to the Churches "in word and doctrine,"
were recognised as teachers on account of their
evident qualifications for the work. Perhaps, too,
as soon as external affairs would permit, they
became the stated instructors of the bodies with
which they associated; and they certainly received,
where necessary, out of the common fund of the
body, whatever was deemed requisite to their
temporal maintenance. A wise distribution of
labour, urged by the apostle Paul, would, of
course, secure this. Nor do I think it at all
certain that we, in this age and country, are
bound, or would do well, to transplant all the

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 241

forms of proceeding which were eminently adapted
to the demands of primitive times. But if these
views of what obtained then in the practice of the
Churches approximate to correctness, they are
important, because they infold a general truth of
great moment, the practical forgetfulness of which
has been followed by serious evils.

The precise object I have kept in view in the
foregoing observations is a statement of my belief
that the New Testament does not give the smallest
countenance to the notion represented by the
phrase, "the sacred order of the Christian ministry."
It is, perhaps, difficult to describe with accuracy
what are the prevailing ideas which clothe them-
selves in these, or equivalent terms — each section of
the rehgious world exhibiting some variations in
the interpretation it puts upon them. It will be
my aim, consequently, to select those views only
in which the greater part unite, and to leave,
without further notice than the bare mention that
they exist, extremes on either side. The vaguest
and most general form in which the erroneous
impression shows itself, is in a broad classification
of society into clerical and lay. There is com-
monly felt to be a higher sense in which the one
class differs from the other than that which arises
out of difference of engagements. A minister is,
as minister, segregated from the mass, and
becomes, in virtue of his calling, a member of a

R

242 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

consecrated order. He is supposed to have passed
out of the ordinary ranks of life, in obedience to
an inward call, and to have joined a company from
which the Churches are to take their rulers and
teachers. Thenceforth, it becomes his special and
appropriate function to preach the gospel, and to
administer its ordinances. He is regarded as, in
some sort, not merely qualified by his gifts, but
authorized by his profession, to discharge duties
with which laymen should not meddle. He may
remain throughout life unattached to any parti-
cular society by a closer relationship than that of
a private member — but he is, notwithstanding, a
minister — he is in the sacred office — he has all
the attributes of " the order." A stress is laid
upon his religious opinions, on this account, which
would not be considered due to the clearness of
his perceptions, or to the strength of his judgment.
He is the fitting man, be his abilities or merits
in other respects what they may, to conduct any
united exercises of a purely religious character —
to ask God's blessing at social and public entertain-
ments, to give a spiritual sanctity to marriages
and interments, to administer baptism, to dispense
the supper of the Lord. He claims, and he
generally receives, respect, not merely on account
of the office which he fills, for he may fill none ;
but on account of the sacred brotherhood to
which he belongs. Many things lawful and ex-

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 243

pedient to be done by other Christians would
misbecome him. Others agree with himself in
holding that there is a deference which he owes
to " the cloth." The pulpit is his, as it were, by
right of his ordination — and, even if others are
sometimes admitted there, they are there rather
by a tolerated irregularity, than by the inherent
right of their qualifications. In short, however
it may be repudiated in words, or even in in-
tention, the position allotted to him by the
Churches is one of modified sacerdotalism. It is
his peculiar prerogative to meddle with and
manage all the public manifestations of spiritual life
and godliness. Now, I do not believe that Jesus
Christ ever instituted such an order in his
Churches — or that the apostles anywhere hint
at its existence. In sacred offices I do believe,
and for them I cherish a profound respect — in a
sacred order I have no faith whatever. To my
view it is at variance with the genius of the
gospel, in opposition to the intimations of the
New Testament writers, and productive of the
most pernicious results.

To guard, however, against the misapplication
of these remarks, it may be proper, even at
the risk of interrupting, for a moment, the
continuity of our thoughts, to point out how,
in our view of the matter, the Churches were
ministered to, in apostolic times. It has been

R 2

244 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

already stated that over every organized body of
Christian disciples there was a regulating power
— elders or overseers, chosen on account of their
spiritual knowledge, experience, and character, to
govern, under Christ, the proceedings of the body.
Their special function I take to have been to
watch over the affairs of the spiritual common-
wealth, to guard it from the intrusion or develop-
ment of false principles and immoral conduct,
and to lead it forward in the fulfilment of its
glorious mission. For its own sake, as well as
for that of the world, it was necessary that every
" gift" vouchsafed by the Head of the Church
should have scope for free, but orderly exercise.
Amongst these gifts, that of " utterance" was,
perhaps, pre-eminent. It was considered most
valuable, because most conducive to edification.
Most commonly, perhaps, as we have already
hinted, but not invariably, as the language of
Paul, already quoted, implies, the " elders" of
the Churches possessed this gift — an additional
and very desirable qualification for their office.
But as eldership, or episcopacy, did not necessarily
imply teaching, so neither did teaching necessarily
imply eldership, or participation in the exercise
of the governing functions. The " gift," however,
seems to have manifested itself variously. Pro-
bably, the least common aspect of it was what,
in our day, goes under tlie name of prcachim/. In-

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 245

deed, preaching, according to the usage of New
Testament writers, appears to have been a solemn
proclamation of God's message of mercy to the
worlds and to have been undertaken by all who
had opportunity and ability. When the exercise
of the gift of utterance for the edification of the
Churches is referred to, " teaching''' is the term
more commonly employed — and on one occasion,
as distinct from teaching, exhortation. Gathering
up the few scraps of information scattered through
the Acts of the Apostles, and the Epistles, and
reading them by the light of that collateral know-
ledge which we obtain from these and other sources,
it seems probable that the first meetings of Chris-
tian Churches were mainly devotional, interspersed
with free mterchanges of thought upon the grand
theme which filled and fired every heart — that in
these spiritual interchanges, gifts of teaching were
soon developed — that as order began to be felt
necessary, and experience and apostolical direction
enforced attention to it, teaching was distinctly
associated with office, and they who had been set
apart to this work gave themselves as uninter-
ruptedly to it as possible. A Church presided
over by a bishop, or bishops, themselves generally
" apt to teach," and possessing among its members
some qualified by the gift of utterance to edify
the body, who, when recognised as such, were
appointed to the office of teaching and exhorta-

246 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

tion, and whose labours, " in word and doctrine,"
in common with those of the elders, were regu-
lated by the authority to which all did deference
— seems to me to come nearest, in point of form,
to those organized Christian societies to which
Paul addressed his several epistles. All the
believers in one city or town associated together
in spiritual fellowship, meeting statedly for prayer,
praise, and the breaking of bread — not necessarily
in one place, but often in several — and instructed,
more or less formally, by men set apart for that
purpose, in the things pertaining to the kingdom
of God, or stimulated by exhortation to all holy
living and enterprise, governed by spiritual rulers,
most of whom were themselves qualified to expound
the word of God, and bound every one of them to
use such gifts as they had, in winning the unbe-
lieving to the faith of Christ, answers, I think, pretty
nearly to the tout ensemble of such a Church as New
Testament hints, put together with intelligent and
reverent care, would present to our view. I cannot
see a shadow of probability that the instruction
of each association of believers, the proclamation
of the gospel to an unbelieving world, and the
spiritual oversight of the body, constituted the
peculiar functions of a special officer, in whom
a monopoly of religious teaching was vested.
A minister, in our sense of the term — an indi-
vidual engrossing in his own person the entire

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 247

tuitional authority in the Church — quaUfied alone,
as a member of a distinct and sacred order, to
take the oversight of a Christian community, and
to impart to it the bread of life — in one word, one
set apart to do, in connexion with the Church over
which he presides, all that is to be done in direct-
ing the minds, in comforting or rousing the
consciences, in warming the hearts of its members,
and in proclaiming to others the "glorious gospel
of the blessed God" — a minister, I repeat, in our
sense of the term, does not appear to me to be
shadowed forth in the inspired writings. But
throwing aside all that is circumstantial, and
looking simply at the permanent truths em-
bodied, I draw from Scripture two principles,
each of which seems to be necessary to the
prosperous action of organized spiritual asso-
ciations ; namely — first, presiding rule in all that
])ertains to a Church's religious exercises and
enterprise — and secondly, stated teaching, con-
ducted under that rule, by such of its members
as it may set apart as qualified for the purpose.
Practically, in our own day, the adoption of these
principles by the Churches would amount to this
— that whereas each Church has now a single
minister, supposed to be distinguished from the
other members by certain prerogatives of his order,
each would have as many teachers as it chose to
appoint to the office, or a^ the gift of utterance

248 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

vouchsafed to them would admit of, and amongst
them one, or more, as recognised president of the
body, to administer Christ's law, and to take,
generally, the oversight of the flock. We should,
in process of time, have many more Christians in
the sacred office — none whatever of a sacred order.
The professional sentiment, the injurious influ-
ence of which upon the British Churches we are
about to notice, is the feeling naturally excited and
sustained by those views of the Christian ministry
which we have already adverted to, and which,
in our judgment, are wholly devoid of scriptui'al
sanction. It is cherished alike by ministers and
people — in most instances, we believe, conscien-
tiously, as being agreeable to the mind of Christ.
It would ill become me, therefore, deeply con-
vinced as I may be of its pernicious tendency,
to treat it otherwise than in the calmest, most
dispassionate, and tenderest spirit. I desire, more-
over, to bear in mind, that, to a great and
increasing extent, the sentiment is passing into
its mildest type, and that it remains amongst us
now rather in the form of the yet unremoved skin
of an old disease, obstructive of the healthy action
of a purer life, than as mingling with and tainting
the life itself. But, whilst ready and anxious to
accord all that is due to the motives of those from
whom I differ on this point, I cannot consent to
employ language in reference to professionalism

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 249

itself, .taking its rise, as I conceive it to do, in a
serious error, which might justify a suspicion,
in the minds of my readers, that I think it
comparatively harmless. There would be gross
moral cowardice, with which I should shrink from
being justly chargeable, in handling this confess-
edly delicate topic in an evasive manner — more
especially as it is my confident persuasion that
the operation of the sentiment, even if it has
ceased, in great measure, to be actively and posi-
tively mischievous, is nevertheless productive of
an incalculable amount of negative evil. To all
the censure which may be due to me for ha\dng
imbibed an opinion which future discussion may
prove to be erroneous, I shall, of course, uncom-
plainingly submit. Meanwhile, however, I shall
endeavour to set the example of divesting the
consideration of the subject of all appearance of
personality — and of pursuing my own train of
observation under the impression that, as we are
all supremely solicitous of the welfare of the
Churches, all wHl be glad to accept with good-will
whatever thoughts are believed to be conducive
to that end, to examine them with candour, and,
if found true, to adopt them wdthout hesitation,
wholly uninfluenced by the fact, that these
thoughts come home more closely than some
others, to their own particular position. If I
am right, irritation at what I shall advance in a

250 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

spirit free from even a temptation to offer offence,
can hardly be justified. If I am wrong, my
presumption will be best punished by proving me
to be so. On the one supposition, silence would
be treachery to the Churches — on the other,
humiliation will fall chiefly on my own head.
What I shall utter, I shall utter franldy, and
in love — and frankly, and in love, I have a hopeful
assurance it will be received.

I will now run over, with as much brevity
as possible, some of the principal arrangements
which contribute to the development 'and susten-
tation of the professional sentiment.

I mention first, ministerial education. It must
surely have sometimes flashed across a thoughtful
mind, that, looking to our plan of providing an
unintermitting supply of pastors for the Churches,
one of the terms selected by inspired authority
to designate the office, is, to say the least of it,
inapposite. It is commonly in a very technical
sense only, that our Churches appoint elders. The
modern process which terminates m giving to a
vacant church, a minister of spiritual things, and
which qualifies the subject of it for taking the
oversight of a Christian community, is usually
after this sort. A youth, generally from fifteen
to two or three and twenty years of age, is happily,
and through the mercy of God, brought into a

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 251

state of sympathy with the gospel, receives the
life-giving message, and rejoices in its salvation.
Powerful emotions of gratitude sway his heart.
To display that gratitude most fully and efficiently
is the sacred impulse of his new nature. He
burns to consecrate his life to God, and experience
has not yet instructed him that he may do so in
any honourable calling. His thoughts and desires
turn towards the ministry — the case, probably,
of the majority of young men, not hopelessly
excluded by personal or circumstantial disquali-
fications, in whom the great change has taken
place previously to their settlement in life. Events
favour his wishes and ripen them into decision.
He seeks and obtains an introduction into a
theological seminary, where, in company with
others like-minded, he travels through a routine
of study, classical, mathematical, philosophical,
exegetical, and theological, exercising himself, occa-
sionally, in delivering discourses from neighbouring-
pulpits, and shielded, more or less carefiilly, by
the regulations of the place, from the numerous
temptations with which society abounds. At the
close of his course, extending over three, four, or
five years, an invitation commonly awaits him
from a destitute church, which, having approved
of his aptness to teach, calls him to the " over-
sight," and receives him as an " elder." Now, I
will not dispute that the existence in our country

252 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

and times of an extensive and growing middle
class, scarcely known in the East in the apostolic
age, may render necessary many plans for the
efficient prosecution of Christian enterprise, which
might have been awanting in the primitive
Churches. But there are some features of our
arrangements for supplying spiritual organizations
with rulers and teachers which may well prompt
a serious inquiry whether we are not proceeding
upon an unsound and mistaken principle. It is
to be observed that, by our present method, the
most important steps which can influence the
character, or aifect the efficiency, of the future
teachers of divine truth, are taken before the
religious principle can have proved its genuineness,
and before intellectual aptitude and qualifications
can be determined. The common views which
prevail respecting the ministry being a distinct and
separate order, present it with no ordinary attrac-
tion to young and aspiring minds, as a sphere of
active service. Our academies, founded upon an
eleemosynary basis, and offering an easy ingress
to an honourable and useful occupation, naturally
increase those attractions — and tend to insure,
if anything can do, a large admixture of inferior
influences in motives which should be kept unusu-
ally pure. And from a career so likely to be
entered upon without calm calculation, with an
incorrect estimate of their own powers, and, occa-

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 253

sionally, with a delusive view of their own reli-
gious character, our sentiments have cut off the
practicability of any but a difficult retreat. An
education, in a great measure, technical, having
consumed exactly that portion of life within which
a choice of calling is feasible, leaves a young man,
at the end of his preparatory course, even when
he has discovered his original mistake, nearly
precluded from altering his destination. An idea
of sanctity, moreover, attached to the order into
which he has sought an entrance, affixes something
like reproach, as if guilty of worldliness, to any
who turn aside to secular pursuits — and if, after
having received ordination, any should see fit
to withdraw from the ministerial profession, they
are regarded as, in some sense, desecrating what
is sacred, I know well how difficult, how all but
impracticable it is, with modern notions of what
the ministry implies, to devise a substitute for
the existing plan, which would not be open to
the same objections — and hence, I conclude, any
system whatever of ministerial education must
be fraught with many and serious perils. As
the wicket-gate, either to eldership or pastorship,
I regard it as productive of more injury than
benefit. If, for a considerable portion of our
countrymen, it is necessary that the office of
spiritual teaching should be filled with educated
men, a fact which I do not dispute, there is a still

254 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

larger portion of them, for the efficient instruction
of whom our academical training not merely
is not necessary to qualify, but operates as a

positive disqualification unfitting a man in tastes,

in habits, in modes of thought and diction, for
an apt presentation of Divine truth to uncultui'ed
minds. In so far, at least, as the spiritual welfare
of the working classes is concerned, I can fully
adopt the language of John Milton, a man not
open to the charge of contempt of learning —
who writes, "And, to speak freely, it were much
better there were not one divine in the universities,
no school-divinity known, the idle sophistry of
monks, the canker of religion ; and that they v/ho
intended to be ministers, were trained up in the
Church only, by the Scriptures, and in the original
languages thereof at school — without fetchmg the
compass of other arts and sciences, more than
what they can well learn at secondary leisure, and
at home." Even with regard to the educated
section of the community, I much doubt w^hether,
in the method of ministerial training we now
pursue, we do not invert the order which the
genius of Christianity suggests as most desirable.
I think it would be possible for the Churches to
wait the unfolding and ripening of spiritual cha-
racter in their members, before giving practical
aid to those contemplating the episcopal office —
and to impress upon all who might aspire to fill

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 255

that honourable sphere of labour, the importance
of informmg and disciplinmg the mind to as great
an extent as possible, that if hereafter called to
office, they might be prepared to discharge its
duties with efficiency. Surely, if things were well
ordered, and the spirit of the gospel were sincerely
cherished, those desires which young men feel in
the early days of their religious life for employ-
ment in the ministry, might be fostered as desires
possible to be reahzed at some future period — and,
pursuing their several worldly calhngs, and devo-
ting such leisure as they could get to intellectual
improvement, exercising, too, as opportunity offered,
their " gifts," they might leave to the Churches,
in whose bosom they have then* home, to deter-
mine for them whether, and when, they should
enter office, as teachers in Christ's kingdom.
Without, however, laying upon these observations
a heavier stress than they will bear, it will be seen,
I think, how powerfully the present system of
ministerial education serves to feed the professional
sentiment — how well adapted it is to inspire high
notions respecting all that is deemed peculiar to
the " order " — and how likely it is to beget a
jealousy of any teaching instrumentality which has
not passed through the customary academical
trainmg.

Next, in the natural order of the arrangements
now under our review, comes ordination. If there

256 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

is little in the New Testament to sanction the
common notion of a ministerial order, there is less
to sustain that of ordination. A few passages in
which mention is made of specific appointment
to "eldership" in the Churches — two or three
which imply such appointment to have been
expressed, as, indeed, appointment to office usually
was in the East, by imposition of hands — and an
apostolic phrase, here and there, intimating the
communication of some supernatural gift at the
time of this designation to office — constitute,
scanty as it is, the entire sum of scriptural mate-
rials, out of which ecclesiastical ingenuity has
fashioned the doctrine of ordination. I believe,
indeed, that to a considerable extent, the estimate
now set upon the necessity and virtues of this
rite, by Nonconforming Churches, is moderate in
comparison of what it once was. It is not main-
tained nowadays, at least by them, that ordination
actually confers any right upon the subject of it
which he did not previously possess, nor that it is
absolutely requisite in order to ministerial cha-
racter and authority. More generally, it is re-
garded as a solemn observance, seemly and pro-
fitable on a public entrance upon office, and well
calculated to promote order in the Churches.
Whilst, however, the intelligence of our dissenting
religious bodies thus interprets the ceremonial,
the sentiment of the same bodies, more uncon-

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 257

scioiisly and deeply tinged with traditional pre-
judice, seldom shows itself abreast with that intel-
ligence. The young " brother " who has been
invited to take the " oversight" of a Church, and
who has accepted the in\T.tation, does not ordinarily
feel that he has ceased to be a layman, or that
he may becomingly discharge all the functions
of his office, until after his ordination. Many of
his brethren around him, and most, perhaps, of
the people of his charge, would be a little scan-
dalized at his presiding at the administration of
the Lord's supper, even amongst the Christian
disciples whom he teaches from the pulpit, before
he has been set apart in the customary manner
— and much more would they object to the cele-
bration of that ordinance by a Church bereaved
of its elder, conducted under the superintendence
of one of its own members. In some cases, the
feeling, excited, probably, by the force brought to
bear upon it by the doctrine maintained in the
Anghcan Establishment, is so far indulged as to
condemn the exercise of this ministerial prero-
gative, even by those who have been admitted by
ordination to the ministry, but who may have
subsequently quitted office and engaged in secular
pursuits. On the other hand, there is a still
larger number of persons who connect with ordi-
nation, an initiation of the subject of it into the
sacred order, and who regard him, whether occu-

s

258 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

pying office or not, as retaining until death all the
special rights and responsibilities of ministers of
Christ. Here, again, it will be felt, there are
common notions, sometimes repudiated by the
understanding, but insidiously mingling with the
feelings, which give additional strength to the
professional sentiment. Those imaginary lines
which separate the ministerial class from the rest
of the Church, and place it, as it were, in exclusive
possession of the prerogatives of spiritual riding
and teaching, are deepened, and rendered almost
ineffaceable, partly by the rite itself of ordination,
chiefly by the yet lingering superstition with which
its effects are generally regarded. In a modified
sense, and with a few exceptions, the ministerial
character is treated as indelible.

The almost universal practice — to which, how-
ever, the diff"erent sections of the Methodist body
present an exception — of limiting spiritual teaching
in each Church, so far at least as it is stated
and official, to a single individual, is another of
those arrangements in which the professional senti-
ment finds development and sustenance. In apo-
stolic times, there seems reason to conclude, all the
Christian disciples of one city or town were united
together in spiritual fellowship, and constituted the
one Church in that town. No evidence exists
that the Christian community in any one city was
divided into as many separate organizations, as

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 259

there were separate places of assembly for public
worship. From the intimations of Scripture we
may infer, with a high degree at least of proba-
bility, that the offices both of oversight and of
teaching were as numerous in each Church, as
convenience might prescribe, or as the distribution
of gifts amongst the members would allow. In
the apostolic epistles, where a single Church is
addressed, allusion is commonly made not to the
bishop, but the bishops ; and when Titus is
instructed by Paul to finish in Crete the work
which the apostle himself had left uncompleted,
he is told to ordain, or appoint, not an elder, but
elders, in every city. From the same apostle's
letter to the Corinthian Church, we gather, that
the gift of teaching was possessed by several of its
members, and some important regulations are laid
down for its orderly exercise. To some such mode
of manifesting and nourishing their spiritual life,
the Christian Churches in our land will probably
return by slow degrees, as the spirit of their faith
becomes purified from the dross of worldly-minded-
ness. Meanwhile, it is but too apparent, that the
needless multiplication of spiritual organizations
in one locality, and the appointment of a single
minister over each, but ill succeeds in eliciting
either the life or the power of religious association.
Our very mechanical arrangements, modelled, of
course, in conformity with our ecclesiastical ideas,

s 2

260 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

put a needless distance between teacher and
taught, and exert a repressive influence upon the
sympathies which should connect the one mth the
other. In each place of worship, there stands the
pulpit — a visible symbol of the monopoly of
teaching — a fixed memento to the Church that it
is to one individual they have to look for all those
declarations, illustrations, and enforcements of the
word of God, by w^hich their minds are to be
informed, their consciences stirred or comforted,
or their hearts impressed and improved. From
that spot, sacred to ministerial occupation, the
devotions of the people are to be led by the same
man that preaches the word, every time the
Church assembles, year after year. The most
seraphic piety, combined with the most splendid
talents, can hardly, on this plan, prevent both
devotion and instruction from becoming invested
with an air of formality deeply injurious to fresh-
ness of religious feeling. The service insensibly
slides into a performance which the assembly try
to witness with becoming emotion, instead of parti-
cipating in, and adopting as their own. It is
as if the voice which addresses them came from
an isolated and inaccessible quarter representative
of authority, instead of issuing from their very
midst, conversant with theii* own thoughts, and
Avarm with their own emotions. The occupant
of that pulpit, who alone has right to interpret

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 261

God's will, and minister to his saints, and plead
with unbelievers, cannot be thoroughly identified
as one with ourselves — and not a little of that
sympathy with which we should otherwise listen
to his statements or exhortations, is chilled and
paralyzed by the sensible contact into which it
comes with the insulating lines of office. Oh !
those pulpits, and all the influences they infer !
Would that no such professional conveniences had
been invented! Would that some change of
feeling, or even of fashion, amongst us, could
sweep them clean away ! How much they them-
selves, and the notion of which they are the
visible expression, have done to repress the mani-
festations of spiritual life and energy in our
Churches it is impossible to calculate. The evils
always attendant upon monopoly have not been
wanting here — and the pains taken, but unwisely
taken, to secure by means of it the best results,
have produced the worst. The limitation of public
spiritual service to a single functionary has greatly,
and, as I think, most unhappily, favoured the
difliision of the professional sentiment amongst
both Churches and ministers. The attribution of
a large class of duties in which the body ought
to take a lively interest, and concerning which it
ought to feel a weighty responsibility, to a par-
ticular order of Christian men, has been fatally
encouraged, nay, rendered all but inevitable, by

262 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

the arrangements to which the foregoing obser-
vations . refer. The pastor and the flock alike
suffer disadvantage — and it is hard to determine
which is most to be commiserated. Not a few, we
apprehend, in both relationships, would rejoice
most heartily to go back to primitive methods.
But, for the present, the tyrant custom overrules
their wishes — and, perhaps, in this instance, as in
others, lurking traditional feeling refuses to keep
pace with intelligent conviction.

But we have not yet exhausted the illustrations
of the professional sentiment to be met with in
our Churches. The canon laws of an ecclesias-
tical Establishment, itself a re-adaptation of Papal
machinery to purer doctrine, exert, in some
respects, a more powerful influence over their
views of ministerial etiquette than the dictates
of common sense, and the lessons of experience,
backed though they be by the sanction of apo-
stolical example. Else, how comes it to pass that
the stated discharge of the functions of eldership
should be so generally regarded as incompatible
with secular engagements? Doubtless, it is fre-
quently desirable that men fomid by the Churches
" apt to teach," should be placed in a position
enabling them to consecrate their whole time to
the work ; and so long as the " oversight " and
religious tuition of each Church are committed
exclusively to a single individual, secular pursuits,

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 263

even when necessary to eke out for him a scanty
subsistence, will be found to preclude the profitable
performance of his duties. But is it requisite, or
does the New Testament give countenance to the
idea, that every spiritual teacher should refrain
from seeking an honest livelihood by the work of
his own hands, or that upon being appointed to
office he cannot continue in a worldly calling
without infringing the rules of ecclesiastical pro-
priety 1 Just the reverse ! The case of the
greatest of the apostles need hardly be cited, for
no thinking mind can miss it. " The preachers
among the poor Waldenses," says Milton, " the
ancient stock of our Heformation, bred up them-
selves in trades, and especially in physic and
surgery, as well as in the study of Scripture (which
is the only true theology), that they might be no
burden to the Church, and, by the example of
Christ, might cure both soul and body. But our
ministers," he continues, in a strain of severity
which the condition of his times fully justified,
" think scorn to use a trade, and count it the
reproach of this age that tradesmen preach the
gospel. It were to be wished they were all
tradesmen — they would not so many of them, for
want of another trade, make a trade of their
preaching." I have introduced this quotation,
not until after a painful struggle with my own
feelings ; to some extent it is applicable in the

264 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

present day, and the truths, thus pithily and
forcibly put, deserve far more serious consideration
than they have yet received. For my own part,
I do not believe that the ministry, generally, is
justly chargeable with a mercenary spirit, or that
gain occupies in their view so large a space as
godliness — for if so, their choice of occupation has
been, certainly, a most unwise one. But I wish
to point out, in as vivid language as possible, the
disadvantageous light in which our absurd preju-
dices place the ministration of the gospel of peace.
By condemning the teachers of Christianity, as
such, to an entire abstinence from secular engage-
ments, and bidding them subsist upon the volun-
tary contributions of their flocks, these semi-papal
notions of what becomes the " profession," shut
up one half, or more, of our ministers to a miser-
ably straitened income — and inasmuch as their
eff'orts to keep body and soul together are pre-
vented from taldng an independent and self-
reliant direction, they can only tell in the shape
of earnest and reiterated appeals to Christian
liberality, or sink unsuccessful into bitter com-
plaints. It is this unnatural state of things which
gives to the world an appearance of ministers
" making a trade of preaching"- — and when many
a man is heroically struggling against actual want
whilst ministering to his flock, and perseveres in
the performance of his sacred duties under sharp

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 265

and seemingly interminable privations, his very
necessities, which can seek relief nowhere but in
the bounty of others, throw over his entire work
a false tint provocative of the suspicion that his
objects are mercenary. Go through our rural
districts, our small market-towns, our villages and
hamlets, and you will meet with hundreds of
ministers, solely dependent upon the contributions
of their people, and hence very much at their
mercy, whose domestic affairs are so pinched, that
it is scarcely possible for them not to look upon
every shilling within honest reach with eager
solicitude. Why should not these men pursue
an honourable worldly calling'? Partly, because
our mode of ministerial education has unfitted
them for business — chiefly, because opinion in the
Churches would regard it as a desecration of the
" sacred profession." And yet even that opinion
is inconsistent with itself. It sees no objection
to this imaginary desecration by missionaries, and
among the heathen — it is only at home that it
ensures censorious and condemnatory remarks.
But thus it is that the professional sentiment
expresses itself — by such arrangements it is nou-
rished— being at once cause and effect of one
of the most anti-scriptural and deplorable charac-
teristics of evangelic church polity in our country
and times.

To the foregoing illustrations I think it needful

266 THE TROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

to add but one other — that presented to our notice
by distinct clerical titles, official vestments, and
all those external peculiarities intended to distin-
guish from others, the members of the " sacred
profession." There are varieties of custom amongst
different denominations in reference to these dis-
tinctive insignia of office — but the sects are very
few, and the individuals are far from numerous,
who treat all such outward marks as unworthy
of notice. Looked at apart, they are confessedly
trifles — viewed in connexion with our present
theme, they are not altogether matters of indiffer-
ence. They are meant to express what it would
be well for the Churches altogether to forget
— a difference of order. They indicate the exist-
ence of views respecting the sanctity of the
profession, which neither scriptural language, nor
the genius of Christianity, support. They render
more visible the line of separation between the
disciples of Christ in office, and out of it. They
originated in times of corruption — and they serve
no useful purpose which pure religion can desire.
They minister to unworthy tastes. They lend a
countenance to popular superstition. They are
a relic, and a very absurd relic, of the old
sacerdotal system, which delegated the whole
business of religion to the priesthood, and which
placed the efficacy of priestly mediation, chiefly
in a minute observance of external forms and

THE rilOFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 267

" bodily exercises." It is surely high time that
the Christian Churches in Great Britain had got
above such puerile trumpery — which, where it
has ceased to be capable of doing positive harm,
evinces, in close association with the grandeur
of God's truth, a littleness of spirit in melancholy
contrast with it.

Having thus laid open to the reader's inspection
the unsoundness of the basis of the professional
sentiment, and run over the most noticeable of
those practices which serve to give it expression,
and to feed its strength, I proceed to submit to
thoughtful consideration, some of the more obvious
evils it entails upon the Churches, and of the
serious impediments it throws in the way of
their success. If there be any truth in what
I have already advanced, the influence of the
feeling I am labouring to expose must be admitted
to be anything but harmless — but I think its less
suspected, because more indirect, action upon
religious vitality and enterprise, is even more
lamentable than any we have yet witnessed. To
some examples of this, I am now about to point
attention — having done which, I shall gladly turn
over the whole subject to the calm reflections
of all who seek the prosperity of Sion.

To the insidious force of the professional sen-
timent I ascribe the tendency of religious effort

268 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

in the present day to run into the shape of
what are very aptly called, " interests ! " I take
the term from the vocabularly of the religious
world, and cannot, therefore, be suspected of
borrowing it from inimical sources to gratify a
morose disposition — ^but it exactly represents, with-
out having been coined for the purpose, the evil
which I wish to describe. The operation of Chris-
tian effort, supposing it to be in full accordance
with the genius of the gospel, is naturally and
systematically diffusive. Wherever the religious
life embodies itself, its influence should radiate
upon the surrounding world just in proportion
to its own amount and intensity. Take, for
example, any one town or district. Introduce
into it an organization, the centre and meaning
of which shall be, the gospel of salvation by
Jesus Christ. You have put there the leaven
which should gradually leaven the whole lump.
Whatever it makes homogeneous to itself, one
might imagine, would become identified with it.
As its members multiplied to such an extent as
to render the gathering together of all of them
in one place impracticable, they would, without
dividing the body, and appointing a separate
official machinery, assemble in more than one,
and add to their elders and teachers as conve-
nience might prescribe. Competition and rivalry
between different parts of the same body would

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT, 269

be not merely inconsistent with Christian sym-
pathies, but unlikely from the nature of the case
— and thus, all exertion proceeding from the same
centre of activity, and all results returning to
it, the Church m the town or district supposed,
would become more and more fitted to cope with
the world advantageously. What is it we see
instead of this ? Multiplication instead of exten-
sion— conglomeration in the place of diffusion —
several " interests " where there should be one
Church — a stronger motive to gather up than
to scatter abroad, to concentrate than to diffuse,
to entice in than to send forth. Who has not
witnessed, with a sigh of anguish, separate spi-
ritual organizations, embodying precisely the same
faith and practice, in the same town, sometimes
in the same village, contending with each other,
as if victory m such contention were gain to the
Church, scrambling after proselytes instead of
seeking converts, and giving to their respective
" interests" the zeal, devotion, and labour, which
ought to have been enlisted in the service of
heavenly truths 1 Who has not observed, and
inwardly groaned while he observed, Churches
discountenancing all effort which might redis-
tribute their own members — and, although
swelling into proportions too ample for convenient
assembling in one place, frowning upon every
proposition which might appear to threaten the

270 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

birth and growth of a rival body] There are
important places in this empiref in which single
Christian societies, commonly supposed to be in
a pre-eminently flourishing state, positively stifle,
by their influence, all further enterprise in the
same locality, and instead of enlarging their
borders, and making their moral force tell upon
greater breadths of society, simply drain all
neighbouring religious life into their own reservoir,
in process of years to stagnate and become
corrupt. These are terrible facts — but I ask,
with fearlessness, are they not facts'? To what
are they to be attributed? To sectarianism'?
Nay, sectarianism will not resolve the phenomena
— for difl'erent denominations are not felt to clash
with each other so disastrously, as separate
"interests" of the same denomination. Perhaps,
moreover, if we were to trace up the modern
tendency of religion to divide into distinct sects,
we should find it very intimately connected with
the evil influence of the professional sentiment.
No ! without imputing to the Christian ministry
as it now exists, any special lack of spiritual
principle ; but, bearing in mind that men are but
men, and that the highest virtues, placed in a
disadvantageous position, will, as a general rule,
exhibit disadvantageous results ; we say, these are
consequences which might have been anticipated
from the full development amongst the Churches

THE TROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 271

of the professional sentiment — from the central-
ization of the spiritual functions required for every
organization, in the hands of one man, a member
of a supposed peculiar and sacred order, and the
placing of that one man's earthly comforts and pro-
spects, exclusively, in the power of those to whom
he ministers. Conscientiously as he may labour
to gather souls to Christ, human nature would
be dead within him if he did not also feel, rather
than knowingly cherish, a desire to keep as many
converts around himself as practicable, and look
at the spiritual wants of society within his reach
through the somewhat distorting medium of the
possibilities of his own position. Let none say that
a strain of remark like this flows from an un-
charitable heart. I wish to expose the evil of a
false system — I have no thought of undervaluing the
men who are the unconscious victims of it. So
far from casting designed reflection upon their
personal fidelity or spirituality, I confess my sur-
prise that things have not run into worse shapes
than those under our review, and I declare my
unfeigned belief that religious principle must have
powerfully wrought in the ministry to have kept
the evil within its existing limits.

Unhappily, the energies of the Churches are
not merely drawn by the professional sentiment
into what may be designated ecclesiastical nodules,
but, by the influence of the same cause, they are,

272 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

in regard to all spiritual exertion, nearly paralyzed.
The same unnatural power of attraction which
gathers up Christian life into numberless " in-
terests," limits its action upon society to individuals
in office. Churches, as such, are scarcely cognisant
of any but a very indirect responsibility for the
success of the gospel in their respective neigh-
bourhoods. To present the claims of God's truth
upon the heart to those who practically ignore
them, and to apply its virtues to those who have
received them, is understood to be the special, and
almost exclusive, business of the minister. He is to
fill the chapel — he is to recruit the Church. He is
to diffuse satisfaction among the members — he is
to take measures for penetrating the vicinity with
evangelic light. If spiritual vitality is at a low
ebb, he is charged with the calamity — if matters
are prosperous or promising, he is honoured as the
instrument of success. Private members are to
concern themselves about their own personal
religion — to bring the gospel to bear upon others
is his vocation. Their money may be considered
due to give effect to his plans — but their active
exertions seldom or never. The Churches have
habituated themselves to act by proxy — and many
of them appear to think that their duty is com-
prehended in keeping their minister " up to the
mark." We have before glanced at this evil, and
liave traced it up to a mal-formation of religious

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 273

principle as its ultimate source. But the proxi-
mate cause of it is clearly the power of the
professional sentiment. Sense of obligation, by
long disuse, has become nerveless and dead. Can
we wonder at if? When all the executive
and tuitional functions of the Churches are
regarded as legitimately appertaining to a sacred
order — and each Church possesses but one officer
of that order — is it surprising that the religious
associations, as such, should cease to maintain a
lively consciousness of accountability for results
towards which they cannot actively contribute?
And if the yearnings and sympathies which Chris-
tianity originates, find no authorized channel by
which to reach a " world lying in the wicked one,"
but through the spiritual ministrations of a single
individual, miglit not common sense anticipate that
disappointment, wherever it is met with, should
be converted into dissatisfaction with the instru-
mentality exclusively employed? Who, for ex-
ample, hears of Churches, when specially met to
transact their affairs, to admit members, or to
exercise discipline, setting themselves deliberately
and prayerfully to consider and report on the
religious state of the neighbourhood, to propound
and discuss plans for permeating it with the truths
of the gospel, to humble themselves before God
for their slothfulness in his work, to supplicate
his aid in their active enterprises, and to stimulate

T

274 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

and encourage one another to greater self-sacrifice,
diligence, and faith? I will not say that there
are no such instances — but I apprehend they are
lamentably few in comparison of those in which
the condition of the world outside is utterly lost
sight of, whilst the Church listens to an address
from its appointed teacher. I admit, indeed, that
Christian ministers often and deeply deplore this
transference of the society's responsibility to them-
selves— that they point out, with earnestness and
fidelity, its inconsistency with the mind of Christ
— and that they urge individual activity for the
well-being of the body, and for the recovery of
lost souls, as a Christian obligation. But in the
absence of any combined and systematic plans of
operation, in the carrying out of which each may
find his post of labour and trust, and all may feel
that the work is their own, arising out of their
own religious impulses, fashioned by their own
counsels, and dependent for success upon their
own energy, I cannot see what other result can
be reasonably looked for. And hence it comes to
pass, that in giving efiect to our Lord's beneficent
designs, spiritual associations, which he had chosen
as the most efficient instruments for his purpose,
devolve, each one of them, the entire work upon
the elder who presides over them, do little more
as an organized body than support and counte-
nance him in his efforts, and neither expect, nor

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 275

are concerned, to take further part in the great
struggle with ignorance and sin, than can be
effected by the good example, or by the occasional
and desultory attempts at usefulness, of each par-
ticular member.

Let me touch, as lightly and delicately as possible,
upon another mischievous product of the professional
sentiment — the strong temptation it sometimes pre-
sents to repress or impede the development of lay
talent and enterprise. That it is in many cases
honourably scorned, and with noble disinterested-,
ness overcome, I rejoice not only to believe but to
know — but I know, too, what is the tendency of
the present system, and that its force bears hard
upon frail human nature. Can any one doubt that
there lies, at this moment, hidden in the bosom of
religious society, and dormant for want of all fitting
scope for exercise, an immense amount and variety
of talent, which might have been elicited and
trained under happier auspices, and triumphantly
employed in the prosecution of Christian objects 1
Amongst the myriads of men and women whose
hearts have been opened to welcome the message
of God's love, that marvellously expansive principle
both for the intellect and will, ought there not to
be, in conformity with all the known laws of our
nature, an assortment of mental and moral power
in the germ, capable, when unfolded and matured,
of effecting, under God's blessing, the most stupen-

T 2

276 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

dous results? Just imagine a mass of political
organization of equal extent, set in motion, too,
with unfailing regularity, every week, one entire
day of which was especially consecrated to its
action, working on to an ultimate purpose from
generation to generation ; and calculate, if you
can, the number and variety of modes of action it
would by this time have systematized, the agencies
it would have established, the instruments it would
have called out and trained, the latent capabilities
•it would have evoked, the efficient workmen of
different pretensions it would have had at its com-
mand. That the main purpose of the Churches is
spiritual, offers no explanation of the lack of a
similar result amongst them. Instead of solving
the mystery, this fact rather increases it. Think,
for a moment, of the strong emotions which the
first exercise of spiritual faith in the gospel usually
awakens, the fresh instincts it quickens into life,
the mental activity it excites, the gushing streams
of warm benevolence it causes to flow, the wishes
for others it inspires, and the abiding principle of
well-doing it implants. To what heroic enterprises
might not these elements of power be led forth,
and disciplined, and invigorated ! What materials
are here for moral machinery, were they but pro-
perly appreciated and sedulously put together !
Neglected, they soon shrivel up, and become un-
availing, like every other talent for usefulness which

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 277

is buried, instead of being employed for the Master's
use ! Now and then, strength of mind, associated
with irrepressible religious zeal, makes its way
through every disadvantage, and reads the Church
in connexion with which it works an impressive
lesson on what may be done for Christ by unpro-
fessional instrumentality. Such instances, however,
are not numerous — are never likely to be under
any system. More, many times multiplied, are
they, whose energies wither for want of scope and
exercise — many more in which the germs of useful
talent, always environed by a cold atmosphere of
routine, and stimulated by no external process of
culture, never unfold themselves, and pass away
from their appointed scene of opportunity, without
having so much as disclosed their presence. Spiri-
tualizing the touching lines of the poet Gray, and
applying them to Christian organization, converted
by the blighting influence of the professional senti-
ment into the grave-yard of individual religious
enterprise, with mournful propriety may it be said,

" Perhaps, in this neglected spot is laid

Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ;
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre."

Wonderful, most wonderful, is the dearth of genius,
of talent, of peculiar aptitude, of striking character,
of plodding industry, of almost everything indica-

278 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

tive of mind on the alert, in connexion with the
spiritual action of the unofficial bulk of evangelical
Churches. In no equally extensive area of hiunan
interest, perhaps, can such a level uniformity of
unproductiveness be discovered. How is this 1 we
ask. What will account for if? There cannot
but be the influence of an unfriendly system con-
stantly at work. I attribute the result to what I
have designated professionalism — the monopoly, on
principle, of spiritual functions by a special order,
deemed to have received their prerogative from the
Head of the Church, and indisposed, therefore, not
necessarily from jealousy, but from deference to
mistaken notions of pohty, to call out lay agency
in the prosecution of strictly spiritual objects.
Aye, and it must be borne in mind, as we have
already ventured to intimate, that the existing
system is but too well adapted to prompt the
discouragement by professional authority of un-
professional meddling with sacred engagements.
Official feelings may deem that forward and intru-
sive which, perhaps, unsophisticated religious sym-
pathies would rejoice to encourage. There may
be danger — there must be, as a matter of course,
in offering free scope to all who either have, or
fancy they have, ability to edify the Church — a
danger, however, which a ruling authority in the
Church might reduce to extremely narrow limits ;
but, even at the worst, the possible danger is to be

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 279

chosen rather than actual death. A spirit hard to
manage is surely better than no spirit at all.

I venture to add, as another illustration of the
injurious influence of the professional sentiment, a
ministerial esprit de corps. I grant, without hesi-
tation, that this may be, and sometimes has been,
turned to useful account ; but looking at its results
as a whole, I am constrained to set it down as a
liindrance rather than an auxiliary to the cause of
divine truth. There has slowly, and by im-
perceptible degrees, come to be a professional way
of looking at things aff'ecting the welfare of Christ's
Church — a similarity of tinge running through not
only ministerial manners and talk, but modes of
thought and standards of judgment. There is a
kind of corporate influence which, whether in-
tentionally wielded or not, works the subjugation
of all individuality to a recognised pattern, and
hedges round the freedom of each by the average
opinions of all. It is owing to the operation of this
cause that all changes, even obviously for the
better, are so slowly eff'ected; and that exploded
prejudices, and empty formalities, and methods of
proceeding which experience has proved to be
inapt, linger on so long in our midst. Unhappily,
the esprit de corps of which I now speak is com-
monly in favour of things as they are. Routine
always has had, and always will have, powerful
recommendations in the eyes of a distinct pro-

280 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

fession — literary, political, medical, or sacred.
Bold reforms always bring with them disturbing
influences ; and although many, and particularly
the young, may be disposed to depart from the
beaten road, the majority will be always averse
both to novel view^s and to altered methods of
action. This fact, and the knowledge of it, cannot
but check individual independence in the minis-
terial body. Few will have the hardihood to follow
out a conviction to all its legitimate consequences,
when, by so doing, they would seem to undervalue
the general opinions and habits of " the brethren."
Hence, the ministerial order among all denomina-
tions is naturally conservative — the last class in the
Churches to apprehend and give way to the neces-
sity of new spiritual enterprises. I say not this
censoriously — I look upon the fact as reproaching
the system, rather than the personal character of
the men. Considering their position — in my view
a false one — I do not see how the general result
could be far otherwise. The forces by which each
member of the profession is affected, require, in
order to resistance, not ordinary, but extraordinary
strength of sanctified understanding and will. But
the public consequences are not the less disastrous.
There is a feeling abroad — and it is only right that
the ministry should not be kept in ignorance of the
fact — there is a feeling abroad, and extensively pre-
valent too, that the healthiest movements of the

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 281

present age, embodying great Christian principles,
and harmonizing with the genius of the gospel,
meet with no obstacle more uniform or more potent
than that presented by the indisposition of the
sacred profession. To a degree much beyond what
they suspect, in large towns especially, they are
looked upon as in the rear of the advancing age.
Sense of obligation to give effect to their convictions
is commonly believed to have made great way
amongst the members of their flocks, before it is
likely to show itself in the ministers. Change in
them is regarded, no doubt in many cases unjustly,
but in many also on reasonable grounds, as a sure
index marking the extent of previous change in
their people. The phenomenon is spoken of as
notorious ; by the unfriendly, in a tone of bitter
gratification — by those who esteem and love them,
and whose sympathies are with the gospel and the
Churches, with evident emotions of deep regret.
I know to what suspicions I expose myself by
making these statements — but I am convinced they
ought to be made, if from no other motive, at least
from one of earnest goodwill to those who, un-
consciously, perhaps, are dwelling underneath this
cloud. That esprit de corps — the fruit of the j)ro-
fessional sentiment — to which we have alluded, has
misled their judgment and w^arped their feelings.
They have looked at the stirring things of this day
in the glass of " the order," rather than in that of

282 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

lustrous Christianity ; and it is to be feared that, if
they escape the ill consequences of their mistake,
the moral influence of the Churches A^dll be im-
paired by its reaction.

Lastly, I think it must be painfully evident to
all, and to none more so than to ministers them-
selves, that our present arrangements for the pre-
sentation of divine truth to the world, moulded into
shape as they have been by the professional senti-
ment, have a powerful tendency to detract from its
moral power. Preaching has assumed too much
the air of a business — and by a very large class of
our countrymen, averse to the spirituality of the
gospel, and eager to seize any plausible pretext for
escaping from its claims, it is set down as the craft
whereby an influential section of society secure a
maintenance. An exclusive order cannot, in times
of general intelligence and inquiry, preserve their
hold upon the sympathies of the population, other-
wise than by the power, purity, and benevolence, of
the faith they exhibit ; and against the influence of
these their very exclusiveness is foimd to militate.
Anything which gives a colourable appearance of
worldly motives to the great body of men who pro-
claim the message of salvation, should be avoided
to the utmost practicable extent. But, certainly,
no mistake could well be more fatal than that of re-
moving from the instrumentality employed by the
Churches that large admixture of spontaneous, but

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 283

duly regulated effort, which would have communi-
cated to the whole the unimpeachable character of
disinterestedness. We must not be surprised, we
ought not to take offence, at the result. The re-
sponsibility may not be with the men of this gene-
ration, whose position is the effect of causes which
have been in almost undisturbed operation for
ages past. But it is not the less important that
we should have our eyes turned to the mischief,
and our thoughts intent upon the appropriate
remedy. At present, with one remarkable ex-
ception, the success of which ought to have
elicited more serious investigation — I refer to the
Wesleyan bodies — and leaving out of sight recent
attempts to employ what is called lay agency —
the viva voce exhibition of Christ's gospel to men,
whether for purposes of edification or conversion,
is, by common consent, made the peculiar function
of a class, set apart and supported for that express
purpose. And this erection of office into a pro-
fession— this conversion of rights and responsi-
bilities once dependent only upon apt qualifications,
and the appointment of the several Churches, into
a monopoly, set forth as "sacred" — this separation
of the members of it, as such, from all the ordinary
means of self-sustentation, and compelling them
to derive their livelihood from their spiritual minis-
trations alone — have thrown around the procla-
mation of the glad tidings an atmosphere of

284 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

worlclliness which places the best, the hoHest, the
most self-denying and heroically disinterested men,
under a fearful disadvantage. We are but begin-
ning to reap the harvest which others have sown.
It becomes more and more difficult to imj)ress upon
the indifferent and unbelieving masses the con-
viction that, in enforcing upon them the revelation
of God in Christ, we are seeking " not theirs,
but them." The purest zeal of the best ministers
they are too disposed to interpret as an anxious
scramble for proselytes and supporters. Even
where their suspicions do not go this length, they
set down very much to the habits of a man's
vocation, which, under other circumstances they
would regard as the genuine expressions of his
heart. Where is the minister whose experience
will not bear me out in this ? Where is he who
has never wished, when about to address his fellow-
men on the things of eternity, or when dropping
words of caution, instruction, comfort, or reproof,
in the family circle, or at the side of the sick bed,
that all recollections of his professional character
could, for the time, be obliterated from the minds
of his hearers, and that he could be received
simply as a Christian man anxious to impart
benefit to his fellow-men 1 That exclusive and
official position which has, perhaps, facilitated his
first approaches to others whilst bearing towards
them the bread of eternal life, is found to be

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 285

unfavourable when he comes to lay siege to the
inmost heart. He feels — sometimes distressingly
feels — that for the most critical and the most
necessary stage of the spiritual enterprise he
prosecutes, he carries about with him a perpetual
drawback — and just in proportion as he is in
earnest, longs to doff the gown of the order, and
appear in the plain clothes of the man. The
evil, however, viewed on its national scale, is of
sufficient magnitude, and becomes so appalling,
as to excuse boldness of speech on this and
similar subjects. The tide of infidelity is swelling
— the plague of religious indifference is spreading.
Can we afford to give indulgence to a sentiment
which, whilst it greatly circumscribes the number
of labourers in Christ's vineyard, detracts also from
the moral power of those engaged in the work ?
The disadvantages entailed upon the Churches
by the long prevalence and mighty power of that
sentiment cannot be suddenly got rid of — could
not, perhaps, under any circumstances, be got rid
of within a generation or two. But our faces
may, at least, be turned in the right direction.
We may aim to destroy the living principle of
the evil, by treating the ministry as an office,
not an order. We may make gradual efforts to
evoke and employ teaching talents, wherever they
exist. And, by cautious changes, we may prepare
a more general and efficient instrumentality for the

286 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

prosecution of spiritual objects, making the best
use possible, meanwhile, of that which already
exists.

In bringing these observations to a close, I
am most anxious to commend the subject of
them to the dispassionate consideration of the
Churches, as one demanding close and unfettered
investigation. The practical consequences depend-
ing upon correct views in relation to this question,
are so incalculably serious, that it becomes a
matter of duty to secure for it, if possible, the
freest and calmest decision. I would earnestly
conjure all who see reason to adopt the conclusion
I have ventured to set forth, to guard against
exposing it to needless prejudices, by making it
the ground of personal insinuations and judg-
ments. It is for them to bear in mind that,
with this question are intertwined many devout
and disinterested aspirations, many grateful recol-
lections, many tender feelings, of Christian dis-
ciples, both in the ministry and out of it, and
that the harsh laceration of sensitive minds is
always to be avoided in commending novel propo-
sitions to the conscience. It should not be
assumed that they who, if the foregoing remarks
have weight, occupy an unscriptural position,
seriously obstructive of active religious effort, have
been placed where they are by motives inferior
in any respect to those which have induced their

THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT. 287

respective flocks to sustain them there. Amongst
the ministers of the clay, of every denomination,
are men not a few, whose Hves and labours have
put them far above the suspicion of being swayed
by paltry desires for self-aggrandizement — and
there can be little doubt that if the changes
which I believe to be required were effected to-
morrow, such men would still remain the most
efficient instruments of spiritual enterprise in the
Churches. The prevalence of the views which
have jusf been expressed, save in as far as it
would break up a species of monopoly, would
not lower the standing of such as are already
engaged in the work of religious teaching, but
in process of time would raise multitudes more
up to the level of it — and render it accessible
to all whom the Head of the Church had endowed
with requisite qualifications. But, on the other
hand, this is not a question which will admit
of being shelved as inconvenient. It will ill
become that allegiance which we all owe to Him
who is emphatically The Truth, to treat this
subject as one which it is treasonable to broach,
and useless as well as dangerous to discuss. I
claim for myself, and for all who think with me,
as clear a right to plead conscience in giving
utterance to these opinions, and as full a title
to respectful treatment from those who differ, as
I am anxious to see awarded to themselves. The

288 THE PROFESSIONAL SENTIMENT.

sura, then, of what I ask, is this. The question
is a momentous one in all its bearings — let it
be fairly examined, and unreservedly discussed,
as such. I have stated those conclusions to which
inquiry has gradually led my own mind. It would
have been beside my purpose to go into all
the reasons which have contributed to give them
shape. If I have erred, there is learning, talent,
and piety enough in the Churches, to counteract
the error, and, doubtless, they will do it. If,
however, the views I entertain of the Christian
ministry, are, substantially, such as were held and
acted upon in apostolic times, the sooner we get
rid of all the colouring which subsequent ages have
throAvn into them, the better for unadulterated
Christianity.

CHAPTER YI.

THE TRADE SPIRIT.

CONTENTS.

INTEREST IN THE PRESENT INCREASED BY INTEREST IN THE
FUTURE — CHRISTIANITY DOES NOT UNFIT MEN FOR SECULAR PURSUITS
— TRADE, THE HANDMAID OF RELIGION — THE TRADE SPIRIT DEFINED
AND DESCRIBED — STIMULANTS TO IT IN THIS COUNTRY — SOMEWHAT
MODERATED BY THE POWER OF RELIGIOUS LIFE — BUT, TO A GREATER
EXTENT, INJURIOUS TO IT — ILLUSTRATIONS — CHOICE OF EMPLOYMENT
— SPECULATION — TRUTHFULNESS — HONESTY — CONSIDERATION OF THE
GOOD OF OTHERS — TREATMENT OF DEPENDENTS — BELONGING TO
THE HOUSEHOLD — WORKMEN EMPLOYED FOR WAGES — SIGNS OF
IMPROVEMENT — LOSS TO THE CHURCHES RESULTING FROM THE
TRADE SPIRIT — OF RELIGIOUS VITALITY — OF SALUTARY DISCIPLINE
— OF MORAL INFLUENCE — MISAPPREHENSIONS AND ILL-WILL EXCITED
BY IT — CONCLUSION.

U

CHAPTER VI.

There is nothing necessarily incompatible between
intensity of life in relation to the future, and
activity of life in relation to the present — between
a dominant and all-engrossing expectation, and
a minute and assiduous attention to things imme-
diately before us. A man, for example, is sum-
moned to occupy a distant sphere of labour and
enjoyment, into which, as promising to meet his
most fondly cherished desires, he projects, by
anticipation, his whole soul — sends thither before
him his liveliest hopes — encourages his affections
to settle there— and draws thence most of those
materials of pleasure upon which he lives until
his actual arrival at his destination. But the
entire possession of his heart by the future and
the remote, does not incapacitate him for what
is present and at hand. On the contrary, that
mysteriously endowed nature of his, which has
taken into itself as much as it can comprehend
of the life to be lived hereafter, comes back,

u 2

292 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

as it were, to the engagements of the life that
now is, fraught with a higher and a more definite
purpose, in reference to passing claims, instinct
with more earnestness, and conscious of a far
superior power, than it had felt previously to its
acquaintance with the new object of attraction.
Each step, indeed, will be taken with a special
view to the expectation that absorbs him — but
the more influential the expectation, the more
interest will he feel, and the more care will he
exercise, about every act which moves him towards
it. As there wiU be more of meaning in his
daily proceedings, so there will be more of method,
attention, and spirit, than once there was. To
every arrangement which the coveted morrow
requires to be completed to-day, he wdll bring
energies as elastic as hope can make them, and
thoughtfulness as concentrated as enthroned aflPec-
tions can command. Where the channel between
the present and the future is well defined, there
is a perpetual flux and reflux of feehng between
them — the life which wells up in the heart of
each individual, and flows on in one volume of
purpose to futurity, is rolled back again towards its
original spring, to do, in its increased amplitude
and depth, all that it is appointed to do along its
entire course.

One of the radical mistakes which men have
been prone to make respecting Christianity is the

THE TRADE SPIRIT, 293

idea that it claims so large a proportion of our
being for the things of eternity, as to leave us
comparatively little for the things of time — as
though what is given to it must needs be abstracted
from something else. They seldom commit this
error in regard to other objects. This individual
may identify his life with military glory — that,
with the sway of kingdoms — a third, with intel-
lectual pre-eminence — a fourth, with scientific dis-
covery. All are known to be filled with a
dominant purpose not yet realized — to " live and
move and have their being " in it — to have given
themselves up, indeed, to an imaginary future.
And yet no one sees in this fact a necessary
withdrawal of their energies from present engage-
ments. The soldier whose dream is of universal
conquest and world-wide fame, is not deemed to be
thereby incapacitated from intense study of what-
ever will practically fit him for his work. The
ruler who aspires to dominion over his fellow-men,
however intent upon the yet distant object, is
stimulated to give, rather than precluded from
giving, the most earnest attention to immediate
duties; and whether he observes human nature
in its individual manifestations, or in its national
idiosyncrasies — whether he turns over the leaves
of history, or ponders the meaning of those pages
which passing life presents to his notice — he flings,
not less, but more energy into his daily pursuits,

294 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

in consequence of his self-consecration to a govern-
ing idea. Christianity opens up to us the glorious
prospect of a future state of entire sympathy, intel-
lectual and moral, with the happy God — a state
of conscious, perfect, unchangeable, unending
oneness of will with him — an eternal harmony
of our being with his character, his expressions
of it, and his purposes. Why should the resig-
nation of our entire life to the expectation thus
excited, unfit us for taking a deep interest in the
affairs of time? They are not contrary the one
to the other. Nay^the things of the present
exist but with a view to the future. Everything
w^e have to do here, is part of the process necessary
to the full realization of the hereafter. Christi-
anity gives us another meaning during our sojourn
on earth — not another sphere. It elevates, by
imparting a moral to, every thing connected with
our passage through life — it destroys nothing what-
ever but sin. The pursuits of trade, for example,
are not only not inconsistent with the absorption
of our whole being by Christianity, but if trade is
the path appointed for us to travel along through
our career of probation, our interest and activity
in it will be in proportion to our self surrender to
the gospel of salvation. Life in the end will put
life in the means.

About to enter upon an examination of the
depraving influence of the trade spirit upon

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 295

religious life in the British Churches, I deem it
expedient, in order to prevent any misapprehen-
sion of my object, to state, as clearly as I am
able, the views I hold on the relationship of
trade to religion. Trade, then — employing the
term in the broadest sense of which it is sus-
ceptible — is not only not antagonistic in its own
nature to the main object of Christianity, but is
eminently auxiliary to it. It constitutes one of
the principal schools, ordained by the wisdom of
Providence, for eliciting, training, exercising, and
maturing, the spiritual principle implanted in the
heart of man by the gospel. It opens to us
one of the most accessible, and one of the largest
spheres in which to develop the new and heaven-
born character. Affectionate sympathy with truth,
rightness, temperance, benevolence, forbearance,
meekness — in a word, with all the moral attri-
butes the love of which divine revelation is
adapted to inspire and nourish — may here find
ample scope for exerting, proving, and invigo-
rating its strength. Trade multiplies our rela-
tions mth our fellow-men. It puts us into close
contact with others, at innumerable points. It
furnishes us with a quick succession and an
endless variety of occasions for the action of
the governing principle begotten in our souls.
It shifts our position with every passing hour,
calling incessantly for new manifestations of the

296 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

spiritual life, correspondent with every change.
The scenes into which it introduces us, and in
which it requires us to take a part, rapidly vary,
and call out, consequently, a vigilance of spirit,
a promptitude of judgment, and a repeated refer-
ence to first principles, not needed elsewhere.
It increases almost indefinitely the number of
ties by which man is linked to man, and through
which mind may transmit influence to mind. It
creates countless grades of mutual dependence,
and necessitates mutual trust in all its stages.
It places our earthly lot so far within our own
reach as to hold out an almost certain reward
to diligence and frugahty — and yet its issues are
so far beyond our individual control, and its
vicissitudes so incapable of being accurately fore-
seen, as to throw us most sensibly upon the
overruling providence of God. It accustoms us
to subordination — for " method," as is proverbial,
" is the soul of business." It raises us to posts
of responsibility and government — for few men
can prosecute trade through a lifetime without
occupying, occasionally or statedly, a position of
authority. It offers all kinds of facilities for
pushing the spirit of the gospel into notice —
an intricate and all-pervading ramification of
channels, along which to propel the waters of
eternal life. It gives us, at one and the same
tim(% scope, means, opportunities, and motives, for

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 297

the lively exemplification of every characteristic
of the spiritual man. Suppose trade to be an-
nihilated, and every individual of our teeming
population sustained by simple labour upon his
own spot of land — and the monotony of social
life, so far from favouring the development of
Christian virtues, would necessarily impart to
them very much of its own insipidity and list-
lessness. I can scarcely conceive of a high
cultivation of spiritual life in this world — a
rich growth of Christian character — an intel-
ligent manhood of religion in the soul — save by
means and arrangements partaking very closely
of the nature of trade. If our present state
of existence is emphatically one of education —
if what we are to be hereafter, in mind, morals,
and spirit, is to result from what we are now —
I can imagine no arrangement of such exquisite
contrivance for subjecting all our powers to
salutary discipline, for breathing our young capa-
bilities, and giving to right principles such meet
and daily exercise, as that which passes under
the generic name of trade. It is as much God's
ordination as is the culture of the soil. It bears
upon it the unequivocal marks of his wisdom
and his benevolence. Intrinsically, and in its
own nature, it is the handmaid of Christianity;
a humble but useful helpmate to religion —
smiled upon by it, and greatly promotive of it.

298 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

It will be manifest, however, even to momentary
reflection, that trade can only be ancillary to spiri-
tual life, when made subordinate to a dommant
spiritual purpose. Its use to us, religiously, depends
upon the end to which we are determined to turn
it to account. It may be entered upon as a sphere
for the discipline of character, or as one for the
attainment of a much lower order of gratification.
It is quite possible to traverse it — in company, too,
with moral principles of a high grade — without the
remotest moral intention. It displays numberless
attractions to men, viewed simply in their relation
to the present life. It is occupation — and that
alone is desirable to active and energetic spirits.
The variety of it is pleasing. The excitement it
quickens soon becomes grateful — in many cases,
necessary. The facilities it furnishes for the indul-
gence of social tendencies are alluring. It stimu-
lates intelligence — gives scope for the exercise of
ingenuity, contrivance, forethought, calculation. It
is an excellent stage for the observation of human
nature. To many it is a pastime of the graver sort.
To most it is a necessity, between which and ruin
there is no other alternative. It is the condition
exacted from the large proportion of our fellow-
countrymen for their livelihood — it is the only
means to a numerous class of compassing the grati-
fication of their passions and their tastes. Trade,
resorted to for any of these purposes exclusively, is

THE TRADE SPIRIT, 299

an impediment to spiritual life. Whether the end
be bare subsistence, decent comfort, extravagant
display, pleasurable excitement, or the love of
money, there is the same absence of Christian
morality from it. The object aimed at falls short
of spiritual good — is acquisition, not development —
the gain of somewhat external to us, not the ripen-
ing of somewhat inherent in us — and, inasmuch as
the means to that object are in no sense religious,
all activity, all self-sacrifice, all expenditure of our
powers, in that direction, must be set down, in rela-
tion to the divine life, as constituting so much dead
loss. And this is what I mean by the trade spirit.
The phrase, in the sense I attach to it, does not
necessarily imply a reigning desire of wealth, a
hard-hearted, mean-spirited, all-grasping cupidity,
although it com]3rehends them. But under this
term I wish to expose and condemn, as fatally sup-
pressive of religious vitality, the disposition to pur-
sue trade with an exclusive, or even a predominant
view to the worldly advantage to be got by it —
making it its own end, or at least proposing in it
something distinct and apart from, and infinitely
inferior to, the nourishment of our sympathies with
God and his government. I believe this to be the
greatest and most pernicious practical error of the
present day. Partly from misapprehension, partly
from habit, and partly from motives which con-
science must condemn, the sphere of trade is fre-

300 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

quentecl by Christian men, as one in which they are
to serve themselves mainly, and their Divine Master
incidentally only, and by the way. This is sup-
posed to be their own ground, on which, if the
character exemplified must be in some measure
accordant with their spiritual profession, the end
pursued is chiefly their own temporal good. They
seem to have no notion that business is allotted to
them as one of the means of grace, and one that
might be rendered most eflicient. At least, they
do not resort to it as such. They speak of it some-
times as a hindrance, sometimes as a snare — often
as a trying necessity — occasonally as an instrument
of gratification — never, hardly, as a school for the
education of their spiritual nature. They can un-
derstand communion with God in direct religious
exercises, in the sanctuary, in the outspread works
of his hands — but not in trade. They go to the
house of God to seek him there — to their factories,
counting-houses, and shops, they repair for no such
purpose. In this direction, few, indeed, look for
him — some, it is to be feared, do not even take him
there. Much of what they know of him they
forget within these j)recincts of secular engage-
ment— to learn more of him in such places, they
do not expect. Their Christianity is rather of the
nature of a branch of occupation, than a principle
of life and action. They may be honest — they may
be diligent — ^they may be truthful — ^they may be

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 301

frugal — they may economize their time — but their
purpose in business is distinct from their purpose
in the place of worship. Here it is specially their
own— there it is specially God's. Hence the double
pursuit is sometimes bemoaned as if antagonistic ;
whereas the only thing wanting in order to render
their trade a means to their religion, is their own
determination to make it so. Business as well as
nature yields fruits after the kind of seed we sow.
The results we reap will correspond with the objects
we desire. Things are secular or spiritual as we
make them such. The difference originates in our
own intention.

Religious life in this country is peculiarly liable
to the unfriendly action upon it of the trade
spirit. Without imputing to the British people
generally a more selfish or sordid spirit than may
be found elsewhere, there can be no doubt that
devotion to the pursuits of trade is our national
characteristic. Gain, in one shape or another, is
"the great goddess" most assiduously worshipped
in these realms. Business is everything with us
— the power to which all others are secondary.
The phenomenon may, perhaps, be fairly ac-
counted for. Something may bo set down to
the score of race — something to climate — some-
thing to geographical position. Our political
history may have done much to mould our charac-
ter into the form it has taken — possibly our

302 THE TRADE SriRIT.

religious faith may have exerted some influence
upon it. But the intensity of the trade spirit has,
I think, been much increased by an artificial
pressure upon its energies— and, just as popula-
tion in the presence of poverty multiplies in a
higher ratio than in the enjoyment of ease and
abundance, so, I apprehend, restrictions of one
sort and another upon our industrial commercial
energies, have forced them to re-act with unnatural
vigour. For many years a monopoly of food —
to this day an enormous weight of taxation, and
a population expanding so rapidly as to feel the
terrible inconveniences resulting to them from the
law of primogeniture and entail — the land, as
it were, too strait for its inhabitants, and every
profession, every trade, every industrial pursuit
overcrowded with hands — the sharpest compe-
tition, consequently, in every branch of employ-
ment, and the absolute necessity, in order to
moderate success, of great diligence, promp-
titude, and, in some cases, pushing — the
increased value, in such a struggle for a liveli-
hood, of minutes and of pence, and the absorp-
tion of undivided attention by details, by means of
which only can a man hope to realize a tolerable
income — these are causes in daily operation well
calculated to stimulate into excessive development
the trade spirit. And, certainly, it has been raised
to a pitch which it is scarcely possible to sustain

THE TRADE SPIRIT, 303

without great moral deterioration. The national
^year and tear under this high-pressure system of
business is frightful. As a people, it is clear we
are living too fast. Ours is the rush of railway
life. We see nothing by the way. Health, com-
fort, affections, intellectual culture, reflection, devo-
tion,— they scarcely fill a more important space in
our plans, scarcely detain our attention longer, than
the trees and churches, the homesteads and mea-
dows, which seem to dance past us as we gaze
through the window of a carriage in an " express
train." And we are always on the line. True!
we stop at appointed stations — most of which,
however, are simply for convenience, not for re-
freshment. AVe are whirled along from early youth
in most cases to the hour of death, with no other
pause or break than the weariness of exhausted
nature absolutely requires. The march of trade is
like the irresistible career of a locomotive — and
even they who most delight in rapid movement are
compelled to ask themselves, at times, " Can such
speed as this be safe V

It must in fairness be admitted, I think, that
the religious life involved in this incessant whirl
and scramble, has done something to check the
progression of the evil. I am far from believing
that Christian principle has exerted no retarding
effect upon it, or that, had it been entirely wanting
or inoperative, the mischief would not have grown

304 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

to still more appalling proportions. Much as the
gentleness, the truthfulness, the righteousness, and
the high spirituality of the gospel may be ignored
within the trade sphere — often as they may^ be
repudiated as having no authority there, and as
being out of place, there can hardly be a question,
that even within the ungenial precincts of trade,
they have made their civilizing and modifying
influence felt. The maxims of the counting-house,
and the habits of the shop, would be found, upon
close examination, to have been partially improved,
at least, by the influence of revealed truth, some-
times directly, more frequently by reflex operation,
brought to bear upon the customary manifestations
of the trade spirit. Whither we might have
been dragged in this direction but for the modera-
ting power of Christianity it is vain to conjecture —
but, in justice to the gospel, and even to our imper-
fect exemphfications of it, we are bound, I think,
to admit that religion has not been without bene-
ficent results even here — and its conservative ten-
dencies have done not a little to prevent the machi-
nery of trade from acquiring a velocity which must
in the end have been fatal to the preservation of
social order, and, to a great extent, of individual
morality.

But if it be true that the Christianity of our
Churches has exerted some modifying power upon
the trade spirit of our times, it is even more un-

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 305

deniable that the trade spirit of the times has acted
injuriously upon the Christianity of the Churches.
The deterioration and loss inflicted by the one, have
exceeded the elevation and the gain imparted to
the other. The world has been more potent and
successful in assimilating the Church to its own
likeness, than the Church the world. Business is
not the sphere in which to find the most numerous
or the choicest illustrations of the power and beauty
of divine principles. In that department, the con-
trast between men professedly sympathizing with
God in the gospel, and men making no such pro-
fession, is not, as it should be, notoriously in favour
of the former. Indeed, if the representations of
the latter could be trusted as dispassionate and
impartial, which, in this matter, they cannot, a
religious reputation is rather a cover for disin-
genuousness, than a guarantee of high integrity,
and a delicate sense of honour is sure to be wanting
just where spirituality of pretence would indicate
that it must be found. Saintship, using the term
not in a sarcastic, but a sober sense, does not pass
nowadays as a trustworthy security for commercial
uprightness. Now, deducting from this fact much
that may be set down to the enmity of irreligion, and
regarding the view it presents to us as overcoloured
in consequence of the marked difference really
found to exist between men's conduct and their
professions, enough remains to prove that the

X

306 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

Churches have been saclly wanting to their own
character. Their religion might have been, and
ought to have been, of a stamp to render such in-
sinuations perfectly ridiculous. Even malice itself
should have been made to feel that the facts were
too abundant, too decided, and too notorious, to
allow of successful calumniation in this respect.
And, assuredly, had the spirit quickened by God's
gospel been generally exhibited in the commercial
arrangements and dealings of those who appear as
its disciples, the effect would have been so distinct,
and so appreciable, that the world's admiration
would have been commanded, and the world's con-
fidence secured. That such is not the result, no
man of observation will pretend to deny. Taking
the two classes of tradesmen — those, I mean, who
stand forth as willing subjects of our Lord's spiri-
tual kingdom, and those who make no pretence to
the relationship — and comparing the staple of their
proceedings in the management of business, the
conclusion forced upon us is, that there is no essen-
tial difference between them. Many individual
exceptions there are, no doubt — but, on the whole,
one cannot fairly detect a discernible superiority of
the one class over the other, either in the object,
means, or spirit of their secular engagements. The
maxims of the last are acted upon without scruple
by the first — those of the first would be found to
impose but very light restraints upon the last. The

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 307

lust of speculation is as rife in the one as in the
other. The rules of practical veracity are as re-
laxed in the case of this, as they are of that.
Here there is no more consideration for other's
good, than there. Self is equally dominant in
both parties. What the world allows, the Church
seldom stickles at. In short, the Church accepts,
in this department, the world's code of morals,
and that is by no means a high standard whereby
for Christian men to test their hearts. Is this
judgment sweepingly severe ? Well ! but is it not
borne out by the state of the case ? Let us imagine
what would be the stir which any attempt would
occasion to enforce upon Christian disciples generally
an observance of the following principles :— " Owe
no man anything, but to love one another." " Look
not every man on his own things, but every man
also on the things of others." " Abstain from all
appearance of evil." " Masters, give unto your
servants that which is just and equal." "What-
soever, therefore, ye would that men should do
unto you, do ye even so to them." Divesting these
and similar precepts of all that is purely literal,
and adopting the spirit of them only, just imagine
what a revolution their introduction into the de-
partment of trade would stir up. " It can't be
done," we are told — aye ! gravely told by members
of Churches. " It can't be done. Business could
not be carried on on such principles." Without

x2

308 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

staying to contest the truth of this assertion, does it
not establish the fairness of the judgment we have
thus ventured to pronounce 1 Is it not plain, that
religious men, in general, lay aside Christ's code
of morals, in their trade transactions, and place
themselves under the less stringent morality of the
world? And can we affect surprise at the com-
paratively feeble and diminishing influence of
Christianity upon society at large, and upon the
working- classes in particular? Such, in general
terms, is the enervating effect of the trade spirit
upon the religious tone of the Churches in Great
Britain. Sensible, however, that where the meshes
of our network are too large, almost everything
escapes, and that indefinite descriptions, even
when assented to by every one as correct, are
admitted by few or none to be applicable to them-
selves, I shall venture to ofier a few illustrations
a little narrower in their scope, and somewhat
more precise. The reader will bear with me,
I trust, whilst I submit for his consideration some
instances in which the spirituality and usefulness
of the Churches, as instruments for carrying out
the gracious intentions of their Master, have
suffered deterioration from the power of the trade
spirit.

Choice of employment is the first topic upon
which I shall remark. I have no sympathy with

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 309

an unintelligent straitness of conscience, and I
am well aware that it is quite possible to push
the doctrine of complicity, in regard to the abuse
by others of things lawful in themselves, to very
absurd lengths. I do not apprehend it to fall
within the province of a Christian merchant,
manufacturer, or tradesman, to busy himself in
computing the probable extent to which the
articles he produces for sale in the market, may
be purchased for the gratification of questionable
tastes or depraved passions. But there are some
things, the object of which is evil, and evil only,
with which no religious man can meddle without
polluting his character. The converts at Ephesus,
for example, would have exhibited a strange in-
consistency if they had sought gain by making
silver shrines for Diana. In this country, and
at the present day, no man pretending to godliness
would deem himself justified in deriving a live-
lihood from traffic in human beings. But, surely,
there are some employments, some methods of
obtaining an income, even amongst ourselves,
which the spirit of the gospel cannot sanction
as becoming those who profess to exhibit it. The
public, not many years since, was startled by
the discovery that certain deans and chapters of
the Established Church were drawing an annual
amount of wealth from the wages of prostitution
— a state of things which Christian principle

310 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

would have put an end to as soon as ascertained,
at any conceivable risk or loss of property. We have
no right, it is true, to make our own consciences
the measure of those of others — but direct and
conscious ministration to crime accords but ill with
the sympathies which faith in divine revelation
inspires and nourishes. It is worth inquiry, how-
ever, whether there be not some lines of business,
not commonly accounted disreputable, which a
delicacy of moral sense might not properly con-
demn. To be engaged through life in prac-
tising upon credulity, or palming a deception upon
the unwary, can hardly conduce to mature a
spiritual character, or to arm a subject of Jesus
Christ with salutary moral influence. To live
upon misfortune is, to say the least of it, un-
toward. To prepare agencies the sole use of
which is to scatter death, cannot be a congenial
occupation to one whose fealty is pledged to the
Lord of peace and life. There is a tolerably wide
class of cases in which, although Christian law
may not dictate decision, Christian expediency
would. And that which I think is spiritually
detrimental to the Churches, and greatly inter-
feres with their efficiency, is, that little or no
account is taken of such matters, and that it does
not appear to be so much as surmised that such
things have aught to do with religious character
or reputation.

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 311

I might content myself with thus pointing the
finger merely to a quarter in which I believe
there is yet much to be learned by the Churches,
but that there is one particular in which the
foregoing train of remark is applicable, on which
I deem it my duty to dwell awhile. No method
of acquiring temporal gain has, in my humble
judgment, done half so much to paralyze religious
principle, and to bring reproach upon the gospel,
or, at least, upon the organizations which under-
take to exemplify it, as that which may be
described by the term — speculation. "The powers
that be," by the unjust and immoral process of
funding the nation's liabilities, have invested
speculation with an air of legitimacy and respect-
ability to which it is ill entitled. It produces
nothing. Strictly speaking, it exchanges nothing.
It meets no social want. It ministers to no useful
purposes. It is purely a traffic in chances — a trade
in the uncertainties of the future — a mode of deal-
ing in which gain on the one side must be equivalent
loss on the other — in one word, gambling. The
state of mind induced by it can never be satis-
factory to reflecting conscientiousness. The excite-
ment it awakens is of an unhealthy character.
The desires it exercises are exclusively selfish.
Its failures are accompanied by no consolation. Its
triumphs are achieved at the expense of some
one else. Its transactions inevitably inflict disap-

312 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

pointment and mortification on the one side or
the other — and its real purport is, to throw that
mortification, if possible, upon the other party.
It assorts neither with piety nor charity— and,
utterly unlike trade, its ends are reached without
scattering a single blessing by the way. I speak
the more strongly on this point, because our recent
monetai*y history presents us with a most mournful
illustration of the evil here denounced. Who does
not retain a lively recollection of the railway
frenzy? Who does not look back upon it with
shame? How many are there who can recall
it without a pang of unavailing sorrow ? The
annals of no country under heaven, perhaps,
ever exhibited a more glaring instance of an entire
population " hasting to be rich." What an endless
variety of schemes got up merely as a pretext for
insane gambling ! What a rush of competitors
after the hollowest bubbles that craft and impu-
dence could inflate ! It was as if eveiy man in the
kingdom having assets, real or imaginary, had
agreed with every other man to throw them simul-
taneously into the air, and then scramble for the
downfal. There was a sharpness, a selfishness,
a lurking gleam of cupidity, upon all countenances.
There was anxiety in the bosom of nearly every
family. All the ordinary and useful modes of
making a livelihood became insipid — almost irk-
some. Everybody was on the watch to take

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 313

advantage of everybody else. Society exhibited
but one phase — and that a bad one — pecuniary
Ishniaelism. It was scarcely possible not to have
anticipated the end. Most men knew well enough
that in a short time there would be a collapse,
and that ruin must needs be the portion of myriads.
But it mattered nothing. All flattered themselves
that before that catastrophe themselves would have
picked up an independence — and then, let the
storm burst upon the less wary and the incapables !
The crisis arrived. Premiums showed a tendency
to decline. Scrip was less buoyant. Then, again,
set in a universal rush — not to buy, but to sell —
a deathlike competition to shift disaster, if possible,
each one from his own shoulders to the shoulders of
his unfortunate neighbour. And during the entire
progress of this national delirium, the passions
evoked by it, the habits created, the tendencies
fostered, the spirit engendered, were evil — per-
sonally and socially, morally and religiously. It
spoke but little for our Churches that during the
temporary reign of that madness, they showed
themselves as susceptible of the disease as any
other body of men. The Christianity of the day,
speaking generally, presented few or no elements
of resistance to the dire contagion. Very few
suspected that inconsistency could be imputed to
them for taking their chance along witli others,
and venturing something for a lift. Thousands of

314 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

parents, who would have been shocked to detect
their children in staking a few stray halfpence
upon a game of cards, scrupled nothing to stake
both cash and credit upon the turns of the share
market. A moment's serious reflection might
have convinced them that theirs was the more
unjustifiable conduct. But it was not a time for
reflection. The morality of the proceeding, which
ought to have been settled before the fever was
upon them, was little likely to be pondered when
thirst for sudden gain had been excited. And
they plunged headlong into the whirlpool of specu-
lation, unconscious that they were exposing their
spiritual health, peace, and reputation, to certain
and irreparable damage. No, alas ! the religion
of our Churches did not shine in that sad passage
of our national experience. It was clear enough,
then, that its vitality had been terribly eaten away
by the trade spirit. And, just as susceptibility to
epidemics indicates a low and feeble condition of
health, so a wide-spread liability to imbibe the
virus of pecuniary speculation must be held as
symptomatic of a sickly habit of piety. Let us
hope that the suff'erings which followed upon that
period have not been lost upon us. Let us
indulge the consolatory trust that the bitter trials
through which many of our religious men have
been called to pass, have purged the scales from
their eyes, and led them to see clearly how incom-

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 315

patible is commercial speculation, in the sense
we have attached to it above, with the healthful
cultivation of those moral sympathies which it is
the great purpose of the gospel to implant and
develop !

The next illustration of the unhappy effect of
the trade spirit upon religious life in the present
day, I draw from certain admitted modes of con-
ducting business transactions. I rejoice that in
the main, and looking at the immense bulk of
trading affairs which occupy the people of this
country, there is no necessity for advancing against
them a wholesale charge of immorality. The
proceedings of commerce exhibit, on the whole,
a fau' regard to the principles of integrity. The
bones of the system, if I may so speak, are
sound — what is diseased and unsightly lies prin-
cipally upon the surface. But, unquestionably,
there is much room for improvement in regard
to the details of trading morality — improvement
which earnest Christian principle might long
since have effected, and which not to have effected
is a reproach to our spiritual communities. Take,
for example, the habit of truthfulness. One can
scarcely understand an intelligent and cordial
appreciation of the gospel where a love of truth-
fiilness is found to be wanting. Conformity of
spirit to the True — oneness of being with the
Ileal — a state of mind exactly corresponding with

316 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

the Actual and the Unchangeable, is the glorious
purport of divine revelation. It is to be noted,
moreover, that every act of falsehood requires an
exertion of will in the direction of evil, not
necessary in other transgressions — for, in the way
of every man intending to perpetrate a lie, truth
stands as a barred door, and must be forced aside
before the forbidden end can be reached. Hence,
the sense of guilt which follows the utterance of
a falsehood is mingled with a consciousnesss of
inexcusableness and shame. We feel, not merely
that we have wandered from the right way, but
that we have deliberately broken down a barrier
in order that we might wander. A habit of thus
acting, however trivial in themselves may be the
instances of its indulgence, is fearfully demoral-
izing— impairs, at a rapid rate, our self-respect
— Avears conscience into a horny texture — and
soon destroys all taste for communing with the
more delicate exhibitions of the Divine loveliness.
And yet, the trade spirit of the times gives a
sanction to untruthfulness, under cover of which
men reputed for godliness scruple not to take
shelter. Promises made with no intention of per-
forming them — articles recommended in terms
which are meant to produce an exaggerated im-
pression of their value — equivocations framed with
a view to mislead — suppressions of known facts,
the candid mention of which might alter the mind

THE TKADE SPIRIT, 317

of a purchaser — appearances assumed to impose
upon the unwary — tricks resorted to for making
things pass for what in reality they are not — and the
numberless unmentionable manoeuvres, in almost
every business, practised with the design of placing
the seller in a superior position to the buyer, or
vice versa, — these are looked upon as the venial
peccadilloes of trade, and, to their shame be it
spoken, are allowed to constitute part of the daily
conduct of men laying claim to a religious cha-
racter. Many people will contend that such things
are inevitable — that it would be utterly imprac-
ticable to conduct business upon more stringent
terms of morality — and that unless Christianity be
suffered to yield a little to the pressure of the
world's system, trade must be resigned altogether
to the ungodly. Now I beg to protest most
solemnly against this representation, as a libel
upon the world, as well as a libel upon the gospel.
I do not believe it to be true. I cannot but re-
member that it is a plea put forward by proved
moral cowardice, and, therefore, suspicious on that
very account. The fact, I apprehend, if fairly
tested, would turn out just the reverse. If every
man standing before society in the character of
Christian discipleship, were as scrupulously and
accurately true in all his commercial dealings as
he would feel compelled to be were those dealings
with his All-seeing Master himself, I am convinced

318 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

that SO soon as the fact should be established, his
conscientious veracity, all other things being equal,
so far from repelling, would attract, customers. In
the long run, men do not prefer to be imposed
upon. Truth, always consistent with itself, must,
in the end, beget confidence. Were it otherwise,
duty would remain the same. But I am per-
suaded that it is not. And I take it to be a
mournful indication of the low tone of religious
life in our age, that the Churches should permit
themselves to be domineered over by a lying
spirit, instead of driving it out of the precincts of
trade by a resolute example of veracity. Shake-
speare might furnish a motto for every place of
business :

" Tell truth, and shame the devil !
If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I'll be sworn I've power to shame him hence :
O, while you live, teU truth and shame the devil !"

In relation to honesty, the influence of the trade
spirit upon the religious life of the present day
has been almost equally deteriorative. Every one
who has been much mixed up with commercial
transactions knows that between the limits of
Christian principle on the one hand, and legal
penalties on the other, there is a tolerably exten-
sive belt of border-ground which men may frequent
without ruin to their reputation, but upon which
they can never venture without damage to their

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 319

religion. It is a region of moral haze and dusk,
in which the distinctions between right and
wrong, between meum and tuum, are never very
clearly defined or apprehended. Most of the mis-
deeds of the trading world which, when practised
against oneself, are felt to be dishonourable, but
which, when perpetrated by oneself, are set down as
both customary and excusable, are done here, within
the boundaries of legal fraud and Christian in-
tegrity. Here flourish most of those modes of
self-appropriation of other people's resources, tech-
nically described as "raising the wind." In all
their multitudinous varieties, one will find in this
anomalous district, the fictitious instrumentalities
by the agency of which one man contrives to
abstract from another, without subjecting himself
to disgrace, the proceeds of his industry, or the
fruits of his saving care. Here are to be seen men
living in dashing style, with all the appearances of
wealth about them, who, when driven at last by
inexorable necessity to make a faithful exposure of
their means, turn out to possess none whatever,
unless credit can be properly accounted as such.
Here advantage is taken of the turnings, and
windings, and uncertainties of law, with a
view to lay hold of, or retain, what would have
been refused by justice. This is the locality, in
the business-map of morals, for " cheap bargains,"
" sales at a ruinous sacrifice," " purchases of bank-

320 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

rupts' stock," and the like, by which certain loss is
involved somewhere, but scarcely ever falls upon
the immediate parties in such transactions. And
here, not further to particularize, occurs that per-
petual strife of wits which seems to consist in the
effort to pick up a living or a fortune, or, at least,
an occasional windfall, at other folk's expense, with-
out being exposed, in the mode of doing it, to legal
penalties, or to an irreparable rent in commercial
reputation. This border-land, some of the charac-
teristic features of which I have faintly represented,
is not always shunned by men assuming the garb
of Christian disciples — not always, I fear, by men
who believe themselves, and are believed by others,
to be spiritually interested in the gospel of God.
At first, perhaps, they keep as close as possible
to the limit of religious principles — get into the
doubtful region by degrees — become implicated,
before they are aware, in affairs of questionable
morality, from which retreat is all but impossible —
and finally, partly driven on by necessity, partly
allured by hope of getting straight again, and
betrayed more and more by a growing insensibility
of conscience, they approach the very verge of legal
fraud, and, alas ! in some instances step beyond it,
without forfeiting, in their own estimation, their
claim to be regarded as religious men. I do not
profess to know, or even to conjecture, how far
this evil has intruded into our Churches. I would

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 321

fain cling to the hope that it has not done so to
anything like the extent assumed by the enemies
of earnest godliness. But there is too abundant
evidence to prove that our Churches are not free
from it — that the general tone of opinion prevail-
ing in them is not very severely condemnatory of
it — and that such things as I have hinted at can
be, and have been, in connexion with a flaming
religious profession, without awakening very
serious misgivings as to whence they came,
what they indicate, and whither they tend.

There remains another point worth noticing in
this our examination of the injurious action of the
trade spirit upon religious life, touching the cus-
tomary mode of transacting business — namely,
kindly consideration for the welfare of others. I do
not refer now to the treatment of dependents, to
which I shall have occasion to allude presently —
but to the common tenor of thought, feeling, and
action, in the numberless cases in which men may,
with the strictest honesty, purchase advantages for
themselves, but must stifle, in doing so, all concern
about the mode in which their neighbours may be
aflected. Trade is generally supposed to be a sphere
in which benevolence is not to be expected. Its
prime maxim is, " Every man for himself." I do
not mean to affirm that the maxim is universally
acted up to — for people are often better, as well as
worse, than the rules of conduct they adopt for

Y

322 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

their guidance. But in theory, and, to a great
extent, in practice, business plans, it is contended,
must be laid down and executed without taking
into account what may be their probable result on
the position or prospects of other parties. And
there is, undoubtedly, a large space within which
this is true — because all trustworthy data upon
which to base our calculations are wanting. But
there are cases, also, in which sympathy with the
kind-heartedness, if so I may speak, of God's reve-
lation to us, must be unceremoniously and decidedly
suppressed, if this law of selfishness is to prevail.
And if ever, in our methods and habits of business,
opportunity is offered for the healthy exercise, and
modest exhibition, of Christian generosity, it is
here. Of course, there are not wanting fragrant
examples of the disinterestedness we are seeking to
commend — but they are rare, and seldom meet
with due appreciation. Hence, it is far from un-
common to come across the path of individuals who
figure, perhaps, in the world's eye, as men of active
benevolence, but who, in the more private walks
of commercial enterprise, push their projects of
money-making into any available corner, never
stopping a moment to reflect that they are snatch-
ing hard-earned bread out of other people's mouths,
and, perhaps, draining into their own well-filled
reservoir, little streams which have been the only
ones within reach of brethren who toil as hard,

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 323

and deserve as well, as they do themselves. Seldom,
very seldom, does the possession of unemployed
capital by religious men, suggest the thought that
they hold in their hands the means, at compara-
tively little risk, of aiding others in getting success-
fully through the battle of life — and that without
the smallest self-denial, and with high moral benfit
both to themselves and others, they might make
others thank God for the superfluous facilities with
which he has seen fit to enrich them. On the con-
trary, the sure prospect of a larger pecuniary return
is held to be full justification for the investment
of such means in ways which are certain of bring-
ing ruin upon humbler aspirants for a livelihood.
What advantages for the attainment of moral in-
fluence, and for the illustration of Christian good-
will, have been foregone, what evil habits have
been fostered, what bad passions have been stirred,
what jealousies have been fomented, what doubts
have been suggested, by a grasping, close-fisted,
inexorable, commercial selfishness, in fatal con-
nexion with a place and a name in our Churches,
will never be known until the last judgment shall
disclose it. But certainly, in this matter, more
than in most, religious life seems to exert but little
power. Many a bleeding, pining, broken heart —
many a shattered family circle — many a blasted
reputation, has borne witness before the merciful
Ruler of all, against the desolation which has swept

Y 2

324 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

their hopes and prospects in consequence of the
inconsiderate cupidity of disciples of Jesus, and
their exclusion of his gentleness of spirit, and
kindliness of disposition, from all their transactions
of secular business. It is, in truth, a terrible blot
upon our spiritual reputation, and one which no
ingenious excuses can rub out. It is a heavy clog
upon our spiritual influence, and one which no
zeal in other directions can remove.

The last illustration I shall offer of the perni-
cious action of the trade spirit upon religion in the
present day, will be in connexion with the treat-
ment of dependents and servants. These it will be
convenient for our present purpose to range into
two classes — namely, such as are received into the
establishment of their employers, and those who
simply work for stipulated wages. The observa-
tions I deem it my duty to ofl'er, in reference to
both, will be condensed into as narrow a compass
as possible.

In regard to the first, comprehending appren-
tices, clerks, journeymen, and others, it instantly
occurs to consideration, that the relationship sus-
tained by Christian masters presents peculiarly fa-
vourable opportunities for acquiring and exercising
a powerful moral influence, whether for good or
evil. It can hardly be necessary to detain the
reader by elaborate proof of this. It will more
conduce to brevity, and, perhaps, to vividness of

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 325

impression, to contrast, at one view, the different
modes in which true Christian principle, and the
genuine trade spirit, will exemplify themselves in
this relationship. The difference will display itself
most strongly, in the end contemplated by each as
attainable by means of it. To a master under the
predominant influence of sympathy with the gospel,
in whom the culture and development of religious
life is the main purport of being and action, and
who regards trade as the appointed sphere for the
discipline of his own character, and the promulga-
tion of spiritual truth, the close dependency of
others upon himself in consequence of their being-
admitted into his household ch'cle, or becoming
members of his establishment, will present itself as
an opening for usefulness, arranged by Divine Pro-
vidence, afibrding special facilities, and capable of
being turned to incalculably important accounts.
To a man under tlie governing power of the trade
spirit, it will appear as an irksome necessity, im-
posed upon him by the conditions of business, secu-
ring to him commercial advantages not otherwise
to be realized, and demanding thoughtful attention
so far, and so far only, as may be absolutely re-
quired for the realization of those advantages. The
interest of the first in those who are thus bound to
him, will be the interest which, in respect to the
sublimest questions man can take in his fellow man
— that of the last will be chieflv such as man can

326 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

see in the agents of his own worldly welfare. This
will recognise an opportunity for imparting good —
that will discover only an instrument for getting
gain. Without in any way losing sight of the
immediate but temporary object of the relationship,
but, on the contrary, making that a stepping-stone
to his ulterior purpose, the primary intent of the
Christian master will be to make it as productive
as possible of permanently beneficial moral results
both to himself and to his dependents— the mere
tradesman, without meaning moral mischief, will
seek to derive nothing more from it, will see no
further use in it, than the transient pecuniary aid it
can be made to minister. And the spirit in which
each will acquit himself of responsibility in this
matter, will, of course, correspond with the view
which each has deliberately taken of it. There
will be considerate watchfulness on the part of one
— there will be carelessness, save to his own benefit,
on the part of the other. This will seek to conform
his behaviour to what he might reasonably have
wished it to be if, instead of being master, he were
servant — that will contemplate the servant solely
through the medium of his own selfish purposes.
Here, besides the authority necessary to be enforced
by the head of a household, there will be the kind-
liness of the friend, the counsels of experience, and
the uniform benignity of the man of God — there,
even where there is good nature, it will display

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 327

itself chiefly in foolish indulgences; and where there
is little or none, tyranny will exact obedience with-
out troubling itself with the evil that may accom-
pany or follow it. Christian principle operating
through this relationship will always command
respect, often beget attachment, sometimes win a
soul — the trade spirit exhibited through the same
medium seldom leaves behind it an impression
either grateful at the time being, or capable of
pleasurable recollection in time to come. I believe
that our Churches can produce not a few instances
in which this relationship is mainly regulated by
the higher, the more disinterested, and the more
spiritual motives, and I rejoice in the belief — 1 am
not less certain, however, that in a large number of
cases, the meaner and more worldly one is allowed
to predominate — and the injury thereby inflicted on
religion it is impossible to compute with accuracy.

With regard to the other, and still more exten-
sive class of dependents, those, namely, who are
employed for wages merely, I shall only repeat
here sentiments to which I have already given
public expression. Speaking generally, the toil
of workpeople in this country, both in manufac-
turing and agricultural districts, is excessive, and
is exacted from them, for the most part, precisely
as if they were unconscious machines. The laws
of political economy, equally unchangeable, at least
under an exclusively competitive system, as the

328 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

laws of nature, and equally incapable of violation
with impunity, have, unhappily, been permitted
to operate beyond their own proper sphere, and
to destroy amongst employers, to a great extent,
the sense of responsibility, and the feelings of
compassion. The relation to the employed is re-
garded very much as the relation of an engineer
to the mechanism which works his will. Because
there are some things affecting the remuneration
of labour which no individual benevolence can
control, the conclusion is too often adopted and
acted upon, that there is nothing which it should
attempt to meddle with. Because the rate of
wages rises or falls with the demand or supply
of labour in the market, it is too generally taken
for granted, that the condition of his workpeople
is in no respect a matter of special concern to their
employer. And yet, surely, they who make their
wealth by the unceasing industry of other men,
might, without any transgression of economical
laws, recognise in those men the rights and claims
of humanity. A soul duly impressed with a sense
of responsibility, might determine upon, a sympa-
thizing heart might plan, a vigilant eye and a
liberal hand might execute, not a few projects of
systematic benevolence, calculated to smooth the
rugged path of toil, to enlarge the circle of its
enjoyments, to aid it in misfortune, to reward per-
severing merit, and to diffuse through the factory,

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 329

the workshop, the mine, or the farm, a sentiment of
oneness in nature between the master and the
men. Christian principle has here a most favoiu*-
able opportunity for displaymg itself to advantage
— and occasionally it does so. I have witnessed
instances of it — heart-cheering instances — and
hence I am not to be told that it is the mere
dream of an amiable enthusiasm. I believe, too,
such instances are fast multiplying — but as yet, it
must, I fear, be conceded, they are comparatively
rare. I am fully aware, indeed, that this habit
of looking at workpeople through the medium
simply of economical laws, and with a reference
to commercial profit and loss, to the entire exclu-
sion of Christian impulses, does not necessarily
spring from or imply individual hard-heartedness.
Experience, as well as charity, I think, teaches us
to ascribe it chiefly to an entire misunderstanding
by employers of the relation they sustain to
those by whose toil they live, and of the
duties which that relation imposes upon them.
The trade spirit, rather than the genius of
Christianity, kindles the light by which such
subjects are studied. Accordingly, many men
who take the lead in our religious institutions,
who give princely sums to evangelical societies,
and whose names are identified in their several
localities with this or that denomination of Chris-
tians, are observed to be as ready as others to act

330 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

almost exclusively upon the hard, inflexible, in-
exorable maxims of commercial economy. They
pay their workmen the wages which happen to
rule — they take on, and dismiss, hands as business
requires — they do all that they engage to do as the
employers of labour — but beyond this, they recog-
nise no responsibility. Nothing is set on foot
tending to show that the heart of the master is
interested in the condition of his workpeople. If
his eye is upon them, it is not to mark their wants.
If sickness overtakes them, his is not the hand
foremost in extending relief. He knows nothing
of their sorrows. He makes no attempts to win
their confidence. They are not thought of as his
brethren. The wear and tear which they sustain
in his service elicit scarcely a single expression
of sympathy. And when, disabled by calamity, or
exhausted by premature age, they can work for
him no longer, they are thrown, without com-
punction, upon the Poor-law Union, for a scanty
and humiliating support.

Before I pass away from these illustrations of
the power of the trade spirit over the British
Churches, it afibrds me lively gratification to
record some symptoms of decided improvement.
I verily believe we have seen the worst of it, and
that the tide is ah'eady on the turn. The force of
religious principle operates, as yet, chiefly upon
the relationship of masters to dependents, or, at

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 331

least, it is in that quarter that it has made itself
most conspicuous. There is a powerful reaction
against the cruelty of Mammon worship, in the
progress of which every feeling heart must take
a lively interest. An abridgment of the hours of
labour, the cheering success of the Early-closing
Association, both in the metropolis and in the pro-
vinces, the determined hostility offered to Govern-
ment against all increase of Sunday employment,
the interest exhibited in the diffusion of education,
the growing concern felt in the social condition of
the masses, cheap baths and wash-houses, model
lodging-houses, people's colleges, public libraries,
and many projects and movements of a similar
character, prove that Christianity, in one form and
another, is fairly grappling with the trade spirit
of the age, and give assurance that, when
thoroughly roused, she will be competent to put
it down.

Having thus glanced, more cursorily than the
importance of the subject deserves, at the action
of the trade spirit upon the British Churches, I
beg to offer a remark or two on the loss it inflicts
on spiritual life, and the impediments it throws
in the way of Christian enterprise.

Trade, pursued for its own sake, and allowed
to constitute its own end, is a fearful abstraction
of time and space from religious vitality. It is

332 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

like winter with certain species of the animal
world — it blots out large intervals from the con-
sciousness of existence. It suspends the functions
of the spiritual man during by far the larger
portion of his allotted time on earth. Sympathy
with the moral character and purposes of God,
as disclosed in the gospel, which ought to flow
on continuously through all the scenes of our
earthly history, like a deep, refreshing, fertilizing,
ever-widening river, shows itself instead as a suc-
cession of small lagoons, at distant points, from
which vast tracts of being and activity derive
little or no advantage whatever. Thus prosecuted,
trade is a dead loss to all that the man of God
professes to desire — loss of time, loss of strength,
loss of culture, loss of opportunity. To every
divine aspiration it is a sterile blank — to all
that feeds religion as a living principle, it is
bare and parched as the sandy desert. Now,
it is important to bear in mind that this
unhappy result is produced, not by trade as
a mode of occupation, but by the trade spirit
as a dominant motive. To him who understands
God's object in the gospel, and makes that object
his, mere external forms of employment offer
no interruption whatever to his main drift. They
do not put out life^they are but different fields
for its exercise. What of God there is in his
soul is as inquisitive, as active, as assimilative, as

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 333

thriving there, as elsewhere. Patriotism is not
patriotism only when it is at a public meeting,
listening and applauding, or speaking and per-
suading — it is patriotism still, whatever it be
doing, if done from love to country, whether it
be forest -clearing, road-making, field -draining,
street-cleansing, and the like — or whether it labour
for the diifusion of innocent enjoyment or fireside
comfort, or sound instruction, or high moral
feeling. It is love of country still, howsoever
engaged — nourishing, developing, pleasing, invigo-
rating, itself in all its various pursuits. So with
religious life — when it ceases to be the motive,
even strictly spiritual engagements do not minister
to its expansion — but when it is paramount as
our purpose — ^^when love to God is the ruling-
passion, it will find apt methods, both of sustenta-
tion and utterance, as well in the transaction of
business as in direct religious exercises. Things,
morally speaking, are very much what our own
character and purpose make of them. Secular
pursuits are merely the materials of a body
into which our own intent breathes the soul.
If our intent be secular, all tliat class of materials
is destroyed, so far as religion is concerned ; if
spiritual, they become part and parcel of our
spiritual existence.

But this is not all. Trade, as we have already
seen, is an appointed sphere of discipline for the

334 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

religious life kindled in us by Christianity — to
many almost the only sphere — to most, a very
important one. For, be it remembered, the in-
variable and inevitable condition of all life, animal,
intellectual, moral, and spkitual, is exercise — effort
from within, to overcome resistance from without.
We understand this well enough in subordinate
matters. Men careful of health are often thankful,
and justly so, for a fixed engagement which com-
pels them, every day, and in all w^eathers, to walk
a certain distance, knowing, as they do by ex-
perience, that the exertion will give tone and
vigour to all the bodily powers. They do not
expect to gain in vitality, save as they expend it.
They use what they have in order to obtain what
they want. Trade is, to a living spirit of Chris-
tianity, what the daily walk is to the sentient
man — it is both air and exercise. A healthy soul,
or, in other words, mind in sympathy with the
moral character of God, may here find an immense
amount and variety of instruction, as well as in-
numerable and ever- changing opportunities of
expression. What a field for observation, for
example! In what a quick and interminable
succession of lights does it exhibit that mysterious
thing, so little known, so necessary to be studied
— the human heart ! To what advantage does it
display the movements, in detail, of Divine Provi-
dence ! Wliat numberless, minute, but exquisitely

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 335

perfect illustrations of the general laws by which he
is working out his moral designs, and making him-
self visible to all who will look for him ! What
scope for the expression of our inmost selves !
What aid for the formation and confirming of
godlike habits. Faith, gratitude, lightness, truth-
fulness, integrity, justice, self-government, goodness,
gentleness, forbearance, charity, love — why, there
is scarcely a phase in which spiritual life may show
itself, by passmg from quiescence into active exer-
tion, which may not find suitable occasions for
manifesting itself in the sphere of trade! Is it
not, then, mournful to think, that to the whole
extent to which the Churches have succumbed to
the trade spirit, they have lost the benefit of this
process of discipHne 1 Nay ! they have not merely
foregone opportunities of advantage, they have
converted them into means of mischief. The
absence of a ruling religious motive in the prose-
cution of trade, has been akin to the want of
common intelligence in the man, who instead of
drinking from the stream which flows at his feet,
should put his head into it, and then wonder why
an agent so destructive of life should be permitted
to exist in such abundance. Who can marvel at
the sickliness of piety in our day? How was it
possible for it to have been otherwise than sickly ?
It has cut off fi'om itself almost the entire scope
appointed for its development — and, as a delicate

336 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

man who keeps his chamber, and sends his servant
to do everything requiring to be done out of doors,
loses more and more of his own energy daily, and
sees his menial obtaining it, so, religious purpose,
confining itself to religious engagements, and em-
ploying worldly purpose in worldly affairs, is
doomed not only to grow weaker, but to see its
inferior become hardier and stronger. This comes
of making Christianity a branch of duty, instead of
the universal motive to it. We take the children's
bread and give it to the dogs.

Then, again, what an incalculable loss of moral
influence does the prevalence of the trade spirit
entail upon the Churches ! Their grand mission is
to an unknowing, and unwilling world, on behalf
of God's moral government — and in the bulk of
their intercourse with the world they act as if they
had no such mission — as if, in reference to the re-
establishment in men's hearts of the authority of
truth, rightness, goodness, disinterestedness, they
were at one with the world. And, after a display
of this spirit in their common and everyday trans-
actions, they wonder that so little effect is produced
when they formally invite the world to a consider-
ation of the divine message, the purport of which
they have themselves slighted. The fact is that
the Churches have yet to learn how comparatively
useless is the mere scattering of the seeds of God's
truth, until the soil of the heart is softened and

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 337

purified, and fertilized, by the influence upon it of
the warm rays of Christian example. Show men
all that you would have them to be in the coloured
picture of your own conduct, and if they do not
yield to you, they will, at all events, understand
you ten thousand times more readily than they do
when your lessons are given in the letter-type of
precept. AVe all know what apt conductors of
moral impression are the ties of family, and how
the authority of a parent is assisted by the number-
less instances in which he has acquired influence
over the heart of a child by the simple display of
tenderness and afiection. Trade is an analogous
connexion between the Church and the world. It
presents myriads of opportunities by which to
make men feel the genial loveliness and sparkling
worth of Christianity, before they are accurately
acquainted with its forms. By it, we might have
prepared men's hearts beforehand for, at least, a
respectful heed to the message we have to deliver,
and have made our own consistency the welcome
herald of our mission. And this wide sphere of
influence and usefulness, the British Churches,
alas ! have mainly vacated. This vantage ground
for their Master and his kingdom they have for-
borne to occupy for him. All the facilities it
offered them in the prosecution of their high
enterprise, all the opportunities for making their
own character intelligible, and for clothing the

338 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

object of the gospel with attractions, they have let
pass unimproved. And they ask how it happens
that their success is so limited — what new methods
must be tried to increase their spiritual power.
They may be answered in three words — Chris-
tianity in business — religion the soul of trade — its
object, spirit, and rule, in buying and selling, in
paying and receiving, in commanding and obeying,
in employing and being employed. When the
Churches show themselves to the world in this
aspect, they will have far less occasion to complain
of the world's hostility to the kingdom of their
Lord.

Thus far in regard to the pernicious influence
of the trade spirit upon the Churches themselves
— a word or two now upon the misapprehension
and ill-will which their exemplification of it raises
in the minds of those to whom they are com-
missioned to address the gospel. Not only does
it weaken the force of the instrumentality em-
ployed, but it adds tenfold to the difficulty of
the work to be done. It augments the natural
power of resistance, whilst it saps the resolution
necessary to overcome it. That the world should
misunderstand the great spiritual purport of Chris-
tianity, can hardly surprise us, w^hen we bear in
mind the piece-meal mode in wliich it is presented
by religious organizations. " Of what use is it ?"
they ask ; " What is the difference between a saint

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 389

and a sinner, that we should trouble ourselves
to acquire the name and character of the former'?
We have to do with all sorts of professors in
business. AVe find them as apt for falsehood, as
eager to drive hard bargains, as ready to overreach,
as exacting of their dependents, as grinding to
their workpeople, as others who make no pro-
fession. If there are exceptions, they are not
proportionably more numerous in the Church than
out of it. What do their frequent religious obser-
vances do for them] Why are we who know
these people to be imposed upon by their hypocri-
tical cant 1 " Little as such recriminations will
avail to justify those who resort to them in
rejecting the gospel, and exaggerated as may be
this unfriendly estimate of the practical bearing
of religion upon commercial character, it still
remains to be inquired, whether that conduct
which can provoke such bitter accusations can
have been consistent with the trust reposed in
his Churches by their Lord. It is, indeed, hard
to compute the extent to which a single mean
and dirty transaction in trade, practised by a
reputed disciple of Christ, operates to create
increased hostility to the truths he is assumed
to revere and receive. But when such things
are far from uncommon, and are thought and
spoken of by the indifferent as if they were the
rule, rather than the exception, one may justly

z 2

340 THE TRADE SPIRIT.

admire the inherent vitality of divine revelation,
that, encumbered with such disadvantages, it has
won for itself a footing so secure as it now enjoys.
The bold and searching remonstrance of Paul
to the Jews, may, with equal pertinence, with a
slight alteration of terms, be urged upon Christian
communities in the present day — " Behold, thou
art called a Jew, and restest in the law, and
makest thy boast of God, and knowest his will,
and approvest the things that are more excellent,
being instructed out of the law; and art confident
that thou thyself art a guide of the blind, a light
of them which are in darkness, an instructor of
the foolish, a teacher of babes, which hast the
form of knowledge and of the truth in the law.
Thou, therefore, which teachest another, teachest
thou not thyself? Thou that preachest a man
should not steal, dost thou steal 1 Thou that
sayest a man should not commit adultery, dost thou
commit adultery 1 Thou that abhorrest idols, dost
thou commit sacrilege? Thou that makest thy
boast of the law, through breaking the law dis-
honourest thou God ? For the name of God is
blasphemed among the Gentiles through you."
Aye ! blasphemed, ill-spoken of, instead of
honoured and blessed, as it might have been.
A melancholy precursor this of religious enter-
prise ! A sinister omen of what is likely to follow!
Let the Churches look to it! By succumbing to

THE TRADE SPIRIT. 341

the trade spirit of the age, they create the impe-
diments which they strive in vain to surmount.

I have done. The subject upon which I have
dilated is not an agreeable one, and I am glad to
dismiss it. I have felt it to be my duty to look
it fairly in the face, and I am convinced that the
British Churches must dare to do so too, before
they can hope for decided and permanent improve-
ment. No extension of mere machinery can
compensate for the want of moral power occasioned
by the indulgence of the trade spirit. It is the
besetting sin of the times. It eats as a cancer
into the vitals of embodied Christianity. It is
a matter of serious import to all — to all, at
least, who are interested in the triumph of the
gospel. But I commend it especially to the re-
flections of young men. I implore them, whilst
they may, to avoid the fatal snare. And as an
object of high and laudable ambition, I would
urge them to give to the world, in their own
history, a correct picture of a Christian tradesman.
Here is scope ample enough for moral heroism —
the noblest opportunity possible for achieving a
spiritual renovation — a revival worth having, and
with the help of God, within tlieir own reach. They
have only to carry the mind of Christ into all their
trade affairs, and they will soon pave the way for such
a large and healthy success of gospel ministration
as this country has not witnessed for many an age.

CHAPTER VII.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES TO THE SUCCESS
OF THE CHURCHES.

CONTENTS.

THE CHURCHES FAILURE ACCOUNTED FOR IN THE MAIN BY THE
churches' CHARACTER — PARTLY TO BE ASCRIBED TO EXTERNAL
HINDRANCES — EXTREME POVERTY OBSTRUCTIVE OF RELIGIOUS
EFFORT — CANNOT BE EVANGELIZED — RADIATES THROUGH ALL CLASSES
AN IMMORAL INFLUENCE — EXCESSIVE TOIL AN OBSTACLE TO THE
SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES— NOT REMOVED BY THE INTERVENTION
OF THE SABBATH — POPULAR IGNORANCE A BARRIER TO THE PROGRESS
OF DIVINE TRUTH — POLITICAL 'RELIGIONISM AS DEVELOPED IN
CHURCH ESTABLISHMENTS — ESSENTIAL IDEA EMBODIED IN STATE
CHURCHES — THEY ENCROACH UPON THE PREROGATIVES OF CHRIST —
ATTRACT MEN TO THE MINISTRY FROM "WORLDLY MOTIVES — WHO
JEALOUSLY OPPOSE THE LABOURS OF OTHERS — SHUT OUT LARGE
CLASSES FROM THE BENEFIT OF VOLUNTARY CHRISTIAN EFFORT —
SUBSTITUTE RITUALISM FOR SPIRITUAL LIFE — THIS POSITION ILLUS-
TRATED BY A GLANCE AT THE RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE
ARISTOCRACY, THE MIDDLE-CLASSES, AND THE WORKING-MEN —
PARALYZE THE SYMPATHIES OF THE CHURCHES — MISREPRESENT THE
OBJECT AND SPIRIT OF THE GOSPEL — GENERAL OBSERVATIONS APPLY-
ING TO ALL THE FOREGOING HINDRANCES — HOW FAR THE CHURCHES
ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR EXISTENCE — THE OBSTRUCTION THEY
OFFER, NOT TO BE OVERCOME BY DIRECT RELIGIOUS MEANS.

CHAPTER VII.

The attention of the reader has been occupied
until now with observations intended to account
for the comparative want of success of which the
Churches complain, by what is regarded as faulty
in their own spirit. We have seen what kind of
work it is which their Lord has given them to
perform, and what the moral qualifications neces-
sary to the efficient discharge of their mission.
We have looked at them as they are, and, in
several respects, we have found them weakened in
heart, and unfitted for vigorous and impressive
effort, by inadequate conceptions of the truths
they have to wield, by sentiments at variance with
the genius of their message, and by a secularity
of spirit which dwarfs their own religious energies,
and neutralizes, to an incalculable extent, the
persuasive influence they should have brought to
bear upon the world. The causes of the partial
failure of the beneficent enterprise committed to

346 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

Christ's disciples we have hitherto sought for
exclusively in the Churches themselves. And we
have discovered enough, I think, to remove any
feeling of surprise, that they have not acliieved
larger and more decisive triumphs. There is
nothing anomalous, nothing mysterious, nothing
but what they ought to have anticipated, in the
scantiness of the spiritual results which they
produce. The harvest reaped is in full proportion
to the seed sown — the crop is equal to the culture
— and unless He who conducts the remedial
economy had chosen to set aside the fixed moral
laws upon the basis of which he originally founded
it, the progress of the gospel in this country could
not have been much more rapid than it has.

I turn, now, from the consideration of what is
amiss in the Churches, regarded as the appointed
instruments of Christ for reducing the world to his
benign sway, to glance at two or three of the more
formidable obstacles which, in the prosecution of
their enterprise within these realms, are found to
lie in their path. Not that I am about to survey
the entire breadth of the work to be done — to
gauge the depths of human depravity — to run
over the various forms in which moral evil displays
itself — or to calculate the amount of general re-
sistance which has to be overcome by the gospel.
My present object is a much narrower one, and
has a more immediate practical bearing. Taking

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 3-47

for granted all the impediments to the country's
spiritual renovation which are presented by the
common tendencies and tastes of mankind, and
setting over against them, as adequate for their
removal, the moral power of God's truth con-
sistently wielded by organized Christian commu-
nities, I shall endeavour to ascertain what are
the special difficulties of the case in Great Britain,
with the simple view of determining what special
obligations are imposed upon the Churches desirous
of surmounting them. Such hindrances to success,
therefore, and such only, as suggest a particular
order or line of effort for effectually meeting them,
will come under our examination — and even of
these I deem it necessary to specify the rudimental
only. Society in this empii'e exhibits certain
social and political characteristics, eminently un-
favourable to the diffusion of spiritual knowledge,
and the awakening of spiritual life — characteristics
which may be described as public calamities^ — ^
and inasmuch as they hamper the operations
of religious zeal, and, in their very nature, defy
the ordinary methods of moral assault, they must
needs be dealt with by a special adaptation of
means. Our general duty we all know — ^but we
ought to know likewise how it may wisely shape
its course in order to get the better of casual
obstructions. It is to this end that the present
chapter is devoted. Besetting sins it is not my

348 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

purpose to describe — but conditions, social and
political, affecting large masses of the community,
the continuance of which must check, to a lament-
able extent, the due success of Christian effort.
They are chiefly local — in the United States of
America, for instance, they can hardly be said to
exist. I select four which I think will comprise
almost all the varieties that can be mentioned —
deep poverty, excessive toil, popular ignorance,
and political religionism. Together, they constitute
a power for evil, the force of which it is hard to
overrate, and the destruction of which will demand
a peculiar and episodical character of exertion on
the part of what is designated "the religious world."

There lies at the bottom of society in this
country, and especially in the metropolis and the
more populous towns, a thick sediment of physical
destitution, which it is morally impossible for
the light of Christianity to penetrate and purify.
Far be it from my thoughts to limit the power
of the grace of God. I rejoice in the belief
that with him " all things are possible." But it
does not become us to overlook the general laws
by which he regulates the proceedings of his
remedial economy — and foremost amongst those
laws we find a strict adaptation of means to
ends. Individual and isolated instances may be
discovered of the triumph of the divine message in

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 349

the soul of man, even where it has had to encounter
the disadvantage of the most squalid poverty. But
the few exceptions only serve to prove the rule.
It may be safely laid down that there are positions
of physical depression and degradation which dis-
qualify human nature for the appreciation of the
gospel. Men exiled by want from the sympathy,
and even notice, of the great mass of their fellows
— driven to subsist precariously and scantily on
garbage — clothed in rags, loathsome both to sight
and smell — preyed upon by vermin — herding
for shelter in dark, damp cellars, or dilapidated
and filthy garrets, or, still worse, packed nightly, in
nakedness, body to body, along the noisome dor-
mitories of cheap lodging-houses — to whom the
next wretched meal is always an uncertainty — in
whom a sense of cleanliness can scarcely ever, by
any chance, have been realized — whose mode of life
precludes order, comfort, prudence, reflection —
who live half their time in an atmosphere of
poison — who cannot, if they would, escape close
and familiar contact with obscenity and vice —
devoid of all moral motive, because divorced from
hope, and denuded of self-respect — men in this
frightful abyss are, as a class, as much below
the immediate reach of the gospel, as the better
tended cattle that are driven to the shambles.
And to the shame of philanthropy in our land
be it spoken, these festering heaps of misery

350 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

have gone on until just lately, increasing in bulk,
unnoticed by society, until they comprehend
hundreds of thousands of individuals. Their
numbers alone might well alarm us — but there
is something more appalling than their numbers.
Out of this slimy bed of physical destitution
rises perpetually a pestiferous moral exhalation
dangerous to all other classes of society — most
dangerous to those immediately contiguous to it.
Swarms of thieves, trained from infancy to their
business of plunder, and of prostitutes turned
nightly into our thoroughfares to ply their deadly
seduction, carry with them the taint of demoral-
ization into all other sections of the social body.
That physical wretchedness which we have selfishly
allowed to accumulate, passing by it, like the
Levite, on the other side of the road, avenges
itself upon our supineness and neglect, by per-
meating the entire mass of uplying humanity
with a moral typhus, perilous to every family in
the land, and carrying into not a few the germ
of death.

What can Christianity do with this terrific mass
of rottenness'? Ragged schools and ragged kirks
are admirable institutions in their way — but alone
they will never Christianize this region of the
shadow of death. Most efficient they are as
pioneers of benevolence into the heart of this
matted jungle of poverty, ignorance, vice, and

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 351

crime — but they are pioneers only. They may
heroically carry religious truth into the haunts of
desperation — but religious truth cannot well abide
there. The spiritual man must be, in some
measure, at least, contemplative, and contempla-
tion asks privacy — but with the class to which
we refer there is scarcely a possibility of retire-
ment, In order to religious emotions there must
be some maintenance of self-respect — ^but self-
respect cannot linger amidst the dirt, brutality,
and hopelessness, the vicious and polluting sights
and sounds of scenes like these. The culture
of piety requires a frequent reference of the
mind and heart to God, in his works and word
— but here almost all the facts met with are
embodiments, not of the divine, but the human,
and radiate, not purity, but corruption. Where
is the city missionary who has not felt this?
What single instance of the power of revealed
truth has he met with in these outcast parts,
that has not suggested to him the necessity,
in order to the completion of its triumph, of
rescuing the subject of it, if possible, from the
appalling depths, and insurmountable disadvant-
ages, of his social position? Wisely, therefore,
has Lord Ashley connected with the ragged-
school system a plan of emigration to the colonies.
Not, however, to detain the reader on a point
which few, perhaps, will be inclined to dispute,

352 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

I point his attention to the social phenomenon,
the terrific character of which I have but feebly
described, as one of the peculiar obstacles to
the success of spiritual enterprise in Great
Britain. These plague-spots, which cover, too,
so wide a surface, are not to be got rid of by
the ordinary methods of moral amelioration —
preaching and teaching. We shall see, when we
come to a consideration of remedial appliances,
how the Churches should labour to sap this
tremendous curse. Meanwhile, we wish to con-
vince them, that to all the routines of Christian
effort, all direct agency of the gospel, however
simply and faithfully presented, they oppose a
dead resistance, which it is morally impossible
to overcome. The nuisance is one which nothing
can effectually de-odorize, and which, to be ren-
dered innocuous, must be wholly removed.

And as the fermenting mass cannot be evan-
gelized, so neither will the spiritual security of
other classes permit of its being left as it is.
The corrupting influence of it reaches far and
wide. Its deleterious fumes, if so I may express
myself, destroy myriads whose customary sphere
is much above it — and these, blighted in character
and reputation, quickly drop down to its dreary
level. Full one half, perhaps, of those miserable
outcasts once knew a happier lot — and, when
brooding over a humiliation from which there

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES, 353

would seem to be no escape, no return to
gladsomeness, recall, with agony of sorrow, the
charms of the domestic fireside, and the tender
watchfulness of a mother's love. The tempters
who lured them on to the insobriety, debauchery,
perhaps dishonesty, which ruined all their pro-
spects, came from this deadly swamp — brought
their contagious influence from the Gehenna of
our land. Who can calculate the extent to which
evil radiates from such a centre — or how, even
where it does not destroy, it vitiates and corrodes
the sentiments of other classes, hardens their suscepti-
bilities, familiarizes them with moral obliquities,
makes common decency appear a virtue which
can do without the gilding of religion, and places
all spiritual or devotional engagements in the
catalogue of works of supererogation? Christi-
anity must get rid of it, or, at all events, reduce
it to the narrowest proportions, before its ordinary
means of regeneration can have fair play upon
society.

The excessive toil of an immense proportion
of our labouring classes is another formidable
obstacle to the success of the Churches. It does
not fall within the limits of my design to account
for this fact — nor will it be necessary, I fancy,
to ofler evidence in support of its assumed exist-
ence. We are all cognizant of it — we all profess

A A

354 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

to deplore it. But, perhaps, few of us, in endea-
vouring to explain the indifference or hostility
of our working-men to religious institutions, have
laid that stress upon it which it deserves. The
number of persons in this country whose physical
energies are overtaxed to procure for them a
bare subsistence, may be counted, not by thousands,
but by millions. In cities, towns, and villages,
in manufacturing, mining, agricultural, and miscel-
laneous pursuits, men, women, and children, too
many for correct calculation, are compelled, in
order to maintain themselves, to strain their animal
powers beyond what they will fairly warrant, and
to subject them to a fearful amount of exhaustion.
One is amazed, indeed, at the extent to which
necessity and habit combine to harden the living
machinery so constantly kept in motion. But the
moral effects of this excessive toil are far more
immediate and far more lamentable than are the
l^hysical. So rapid an expenditure of strength offers
the strongest possible temptation to find some
compensation for it in artificial excitement — and,
pernicious to health and vigour as the habitual
use of stimulants is known to be, aggravating,
in the long run, the mischief for the immediate
relief of which it is sought, to this cause may
be traced the prevalence of drunkenness among
the lower orders of our teeming population. But
this is not all. Look at the number of hours

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES, 855

consumed daily in unintermitting toil ! Subtract
them from the entire amount of conscious existence
— and how much do you leave for the culture
of the mind and heart 1 For intercourse with spi-
ritual scenes and realities] In the brief snatches of
time remaining to them after the imperative claims
of labour and animal refreshment have been
satisfied, is it not all but impracticable for them to
gain such an acquaintance with the truths of
revelation, or such views of their purport, as might
beget or nourish commanding moral sympathies?
Even where the heart has been made alive to
the main drift of the gospel, what fragmentary
intervals of being are free for building up spiritual
character, and learning more of those facts and
forms in which Godhead is enwrapped ! But in
the vast majority of cases, the principle of spiritual
life is wanting. How hard, how nearly hopeless
it must be, to persuade men to give the considera-
tion requisite for the successful action of the
divine message upon their souls, when scarcely
sufficient leisure is within their power to collect
their thoughts for reflection upon any subject!
Besides, however essentially independent the mind
may be of the body, it is to be remembered that,
while on earth, the body is the organ of the
mind. Connected thought cannot be carried on
with a system exhausted of all nervous energy —
and extreme fatigue, as is well known, incapaci-

A A 2

356 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

fates men for concentrating their attention. Great
bodily labour, especially wlien long sustained, and
followed by insufficient rest, destroys, in great
measure, the possibility of active mental effort,
and drains the vitality necessary to a lively play
of the emotions. Hence, the class whose hard
lot condemns them to a heavier burden of
drudgery than the powers of their physical con-
stitution can bear uninjured, usually exhibit a
drooping and spiritless aspect — and relish nothing
but w^hat ministers to the grossest sensual indul-
gences. Manhood, in fact, is exhaled out of
them by uninterrupted work — and the residue of
what pertains to humanity can only be stirred by
strong animal passions.

Can w^e affect to wonder that upon this large
section of the community, Christianity has produced
so little impression'? Must it not be admitted
that it addresses them under very unfavourable
circumstances ? Why, it is very difficult to interest
them deeply in any political opinions or move-
ments, even when their own position and prospects
are thought to be involved — as every one who
has had much experience in public agitation can
testify. Plow great, then, the disadvantage under
which religion must make its appeal to them !
But it will be remarked, perhaps, they all have
their Sabbaths. Alas ! not all, we reply, but
thank God that day of rest remains as yet, like

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 357

the well of water and the clump of palm-trees in
the desert, the inheritance of the great majority.
Ever may it continue such ! Its value, however, for
spiritual purposes to this class, is not to he measured
by the standard applicable in our own case.
The resources of Nature unduly infringed upon
by the six days' labour, claim compensation on the
seventh. Sleep, vacancy, listlessness, and occa-
sionally a mouthful of fresh air, are generally all
that the toil-worn workmen extract from the
Sabbath day. And where there is no religious
taste, can we marvel at this result] Where the
body is wronged by overmuch employment through
the week, depend on it, it will strive to right itself
on Sunday. Is it not the case with ourselves'?
Are not we disqualified by crowding too much
business into too narrow a space of time, and by
too unintermitting application to temporal affairs,
from deriving either pleasure or profit from the
spiritual opportunities of the Lord's day 1 But
what is only occasional with us, is invariable with
them. They are seldom or never in that con-
dition of physical vivacity necessary to fit them for
earnest attention to "things unseen." And when,
in connexion with this fact, it is borne in mind,
that the modern modes of presenting divine truth
to the notice of our worshipping assemblies are far
from striking to untutored intellects, far from attrac-
tive to men who think but little, and even that

358 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

little very irregularly and incoherently, it must,
I believe, be conceded that for the ends of religious
instruction, the Sabbath day offers few facilities
to that portion of the community now under due
notice. The remark is true in reference to those
of them who statedly attend divine worship, as
well as to such as habitually absent themselves.
Previous toil has robbed them of the power of
giving "earnest heed to the things which they
hear;" and, in numberless instances, whilst others
doze, or dream wakingly at home, these pass a
drowsy and a listless hour in the house of God.
That there are exceptions — a goodly number,
perhaps — I am well aware ; but the description
I have given is generally true of the class. And
grave, nay frightful, as is the fact, it is far better
that the Churches should have their eyes open
to it. Excessive toil is one of the most serious
obstacles with which they have to contend in the
prosecution of their mission. I will not venture
the opinion that they caiinot surmount it — but I
may hint that it is in its obstructive mfluence so
powerful, and so unlikely to be mastered, as to
suggest the inquiry whether effort might not be
wisely directed towards diminishing the evil itself.
It springs mainly from artificial causes. Might
not Christian benevolence be usefully occupied in
an attempt to ascertain those causes, and in an
honest endeavour to dcstioy them?

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 359

The next impediment to which I shall advert
is the extent of popular ignorance. I rejoice
greatly in the conviction that on this topic very
little need be said. How strong a barrier total
illiteracy is to the triumphant march of divine
truth through the land, the British Churches
need not now be informed. They know it — they
feel it — and, what is still better, they are acting
energetically for its removal. All denominations
are vying with one another in educational effort-
are exerting themselves nobly to increase it in
quantity, and to improve it in kind. Sunday-schools
led the way. Day-schools are following. There are
numerous mechanics' institutess, which, however,
owe comparatively little to far-seeing religious
sagacity, and have, as yet, been little aided by
disinterested religious zeal. A beginning has been
made with people's colleges, and the success
of the experiment justifies a hope that " the little
one will become a thousand." If, therefore, I
point to popular ignorance as a terrible obstruction
to the gospel of Jesus Christ, it is not with a
view of opening to the Churches an unfrequented
path to exertion, but merely of stimulating them
to persevering and increased effort. Much as has
been done to give wholesome instruction to the
rising millions of our dense population, and rapidly
progressive as is the cause of intellectual culture,
it will yet be admitted that still more remains to

360 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

be done before the wide-spread mischief can be
fairly overtaken. Enough of mental darkness is
left to harbour still many an absurd and deluding
superstition — more than enough to encourage the
pretensions of both authorized and unauthorized
priestism. AVe have not given the people sufficient
knowledge to shield them against the sophisms
of infidelity. We have not yet so quickened
and roused their faculties as to disperse from
them the haze of spiritual indifferentism. In
many thousands a total vacancy of ideas in regard
to God and his gospel — in many more, the crudest
and most grotesque conceptions of them — in vast
numbers, two or three correct notions, mixed up
with a large bundle of incorrect ones — in most, an
indisposition, almost amounting to incapacity, to
penetrate beyond the outer forms of revelation, and
to catch a glimpse of their moral purport and ani-
mating spirit — here is inducement enough, if we will
but look at it, for the continuance and augmentation
of educational means for the people. I deprecate
the intervention of Government in the matter. I
have no faith in its happy issue. I feel con-
vinced that however, just at first, it may spur
on exertion, it will degenerate in the end
into a system of patronage and jobbing. There
is the more necessity, therefore, for acti\'ity
and self-sacrifice on the part of Christian
Churches in this important matter. And, hap-

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 361

pily, modern facilities are great, and might, by
a wise expenditure of influence, be made much
greater. We have the steam-press — we have
penny postage — we have a network of railway
communication. We can easily put ideas into
general circulation. Let us obtain the abolition
of all taxes on the instruments and means of
knowledge — unrestricted liberty to print the holy
Scriptures, and a popular literature, adapted to
the taste of the millions, and in harmony with
the spirit of revelation, and we may pull
down, before another generation has been swept
away, all the fastnesses of ignorance. A well-
educated people cannot long be other than a self-
governed people ; and, perhaps, when legislation
shall respect the interests of the whole, instead
of the privileges of a few, labour will be able
to command and to enjoy a fair share of its own
productions, and excessive toil and squalid poverty
will become social conditions from which a way
of escape will be open for all who have virtue
enough to take it.

T come now to political religionism — or, in other
words, that state of sentiment in reference to
Christianity, its object, spirit, and means, created
and fostered by State interference wdth its
institutions and operations. Many of my readers
may wonder that this question was not once

362 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

adverted to in my examination and exposure of
the mischievous sentiments which mingle with
and enervate the rehgion of the British Churches.
The truth is, I cannot recognise civil establish-
ments of Christianity as organizations for the
extension of Christ's kingdom, in any sense. They
are not Churches — ^they are merely political
arrangements for the real, or ostensible, attainment
of spiritual objects. They are machinery invented,
constructed, put in motion, and presided over by
" the powers that be," professedly for imparting
religious instruction, and dispensing gospel ordi-
nances, to all the subjects of the empire— but
they want all the characteristics of the machinery
appointed by God. They comprehend all the
inhabitants of the land without distinction of
character. They may be devoid of a single
member whose heart is in living sympathy with
God, as mirrored in the person and life of his
Son, without losing one essential feature of their
constitution. They are not an association, but an
aggregation merely- — ^for the bond of their union
is only nominal. And whatever the main purport
of them might have been in their origin, it is
certain that, in process of ages, it has become
pecuniary and political. AVhilst I say this much
of Church establishments, I think it becoming to
recognise the spiritual professions of very many
individuals, both in office and out of it, belonging

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 363

by their own choice to what is called " the
National Church," whether in England or in
Scotland. And that I may not subject myself to
the charge of affecting candour and charity merely
for the occasion, I will take the liberty of quoting
a sentence or two from a work which I submitted
to the judgment of the public several years ago.
They run thus — " We admit further, and that
with no reluctance, that there are amongst the
clergy of the Established Church of England many
very good men — men of sound learning, of liberal
principles, of eminent piety, men whose motives
are pure, and whose devotedness to the cause of
true religion is exemplary ; men who would be
ornaments to any denomination, useful in any
sphere, respected by any party, stedfast amidst
every change ; laborious ministers. Christian
gentlemen, true patriots, zealous philanthropists.
We hail them with acclamation — we admire, we
honour, we love them." *

When I speak of civil establishments of religion
as constituting serious hindrances to the object
of the Churches, I feel it to be incumbent on
me to define, as clearly as possible, the essential
idea I attach to the terms employed. A State
Church, then, whatever may be its doctrine or
discipline, which my present line of observation

* See " The Nonconformist's Sketch Book." London : Aylott and
Jones, Paternoster-row.

364 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

does not affect, is the dispensation of the gospel of
Jesus Christ, in a state of more or less purity, by
worldly authority, with a view to purposes of
government and property. Strip the matter of
all its accidents — reduce it to its native simplicity
— and it will be found to be none other than just
this. Christianity taken under supo intendence by
men who, for the most part, neither bow to its
claims, nor appreciate its spirit, nor entertain even
a passing care for its ends — that moral power by
which the Most High designed to purge human
hearts of selfishness and sin, wielded by civil rulers
for State purposes, made an instrument to work
out the schemes of political faction, and used with
a view to pecuniary results — the religion of love
upheld by the sword, and the maintenance of its
institutions enforced by a palpable violation of its
weightiest precepts — this is a correct translation of
the term " Church Establishment," as employed to
designate the thing signified by it, in the British
empire. It means God's system of moral renova-
tion presided over by the world for merely worldly
objects. It is nothing more nor less than the
forcible possession by civil authority of the
fountain-head of spiritual instruction, and the re-
gulation of the quality, quantity, and direction of
its streams, by a supreme regard to the interests
of the governing power. It is heavenly truth
turned to earthly account — immortal souls played

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES 365

with for perishable counters — the forms, institu-
tions, and influence of Christ's gospel, made to
mount guard over crowns, coronets, titles of
distinction, exclusive privileges and sources of
temporal wealth.

This description of the primary element of civil
establishments of Christianity, however, is insuf-
ficient to bring out in the high relief of which it is
capable the daring impiety which they involve.
Our Lord, as we have already seen, committed
his doctrine to the care of those who sympathized
with its moral purport — devolved upon them the
responsibility and the honour of publishing the
tidings of reconciliation to an alien world — bade
them go forth in his name, careless of ease, repu-
tation, wealth, and life itself, and, taking up a
position between the living and the dead, to
swing aloft the censer whose fragrant odour might
stay the progress of the spiritual plague ; pro-
mised, for their encouragement, his presence —
for their aid, his Spirit — for their reward, a crown
of eternal life. He warned them, in reference
to the affairs of his kingdom, to " call no man
master" on earth. He claimed their willing sub-
jection to himself. Whatever they did, they
were to do " as to the Lord, and not unto men."
Constituted by his Father " King of saints," and
" Head over all things to the Church," he settled
once for all the principles of his administration.

366 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

marked out its sphere, enacted its laws, and
moulded its institutions. He declared his king-
dom was not of this world. The weapons of
warfare in the hands of his servants were not
to be carnal, but spiritual, and mighty " through
Godr "The kings of the earth," he told his
followers, " exercise lordship — but it shall not
be so with you." But State establishments of
Christianity involve, not by accident, but in nature,
the intrusion of secular authorities into his
sphere of government ; the assumption by tem-
poral, and generally by unfriendly power, of his
regal sceptre; the alteration, at will, of what
he had settled ; the substitution of other plans
for his; an unscrupulous resort to practices he
has forbidden ; the resting the Church upon other
bases than those upon which he had founded it ;
and, in a word, the thrusting himself aside as
unequal to the administration of his own empire,
in order to make way for a more competent
statesmanship than his own. Now, look at the
moral disadvantages to which the gospel is exposed
in this country, as the direct result of this dis-
pensation of revealed truth by merely secular
power, and for avowedly temporal ends !

It was only to have been expected that the
system which places Christianity in the hands
of civil rulers, to be used by them as a means
of government, and to be converted into a pecu-

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 367

niary provision for their supporters, would attract
towards it crowds of men anxious to undertake
the duty of teaching divine truth, simply that
they might share the spoil. Facts bear a mourn-
ful testimony that such an expectation is not
beside the mark. We have already cordially
admitted that there are many ministers in the
Church Establishment in England whose religious
character ranks deservedly high. But of three-
fourths of them it may be remarked, without the
smallest breach of charity, that they are practically
ignorant of the great spiritual principles of the
gospel, the purifying power of which they have
never felt, nor even professed to feel. The office
they sustain allies them with the aristocracy, and
a benefice ensures to them, in most cases, a certain,
and, in not a few, an ample income. The Estab-
lishment south of the Tweed has its prizes to
attract, and its honours to distribute amongst the
sons of our nobility and gentry. Moved by
impulses of the most worldly kind, these flock
to our universities to prepare themselves for
" holy orders. " The training they undergo
is in perfect keeping with the main object
they have in view. Theology is the last
thing to which their attention is directed —
spiritual religion, in any sense worthy of the
name, almost the only influence with which
they never come in contact. Oxford and Cam-

368 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

bridge are notorious as centres of abandoned
profligacy. Immorality walks their streets un-
abashed, and fills the surrounding villages with
victims, whose self-respect is destroyed, and whose
reputation is for ever blasted. In these places
human depravity, heaped up in masses, reeks out
its most offensive exhalations. From these schools
of corruption go forth, year by year, the legally
authorized expositors of Christianity, carrying
with them, for the most part, habits imbued to
the core with worldliness, and understandings
and hearts alike ignorant of " the things which
pertain to life and godliness." What is the
general consequence? The flocks over whom
they preside learn nothing from their lips of
" the unsearchable riches of Christ," see nothing
in their lives illustrative of " the beauties of
holiness." They go through their dull routine
of formality, where necessary, in person — where
practicable, by proxy, and for the rest, they are —
gentlemen. Can it be wondered at that amongst
such men, filling such a position, the worst
absurdities of priestism should find high and
extensive favour? Could they be otherwise than
predisposed to take the virus, when all their
previous practices and habits had been of a
character to virtually reduce religion to outward
rites, priestly manipulations, and senseless dogmas?
Yet these men, like a tissue of net-work, over-

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 369

siDread the land from end to end, and, in the
dread name of Him whose authority they so
little revere, assume to themselves an exclusive
right to be regarded as " the ministers of Jesus
Christ."

Such a state of things, even if it went no further,
places in the way of the British Churches a fearful
impediment to the successful prosecution of their
spiritual enterprise. It is the substitution, on a
national scale, of a name for a reality — a formal
pretence for a living power. But the evil does not
rest here. This legalized ecclesiasticism, claiming
exclusive right to dispense God's gospel to the
people of these realms, and casting contempt upon
all unauthorized effort, puts itself into jealous and
active antagonism to the Christian zeal which sends
forth into our neglected towns, and amongst
our stolid peasantry, labourers of various denomi-
nations, for the purpose of rescuing immortal souls
from a cruel and fatal bondage. Every one
famiharly acquainted with our rural districts can
bear witness to facts in proof of this position. Go
into almost any village in the empire, and set
yourself down there to win souls to Christ, and
your bitterest foe, your most energetic and untiring
opponent, will prove to be the clergyman — the
State-appointed minister of Jesus Christ. The very
first symptoms of spiritual life which show them-
selves among his parishioners — social meetings for

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370 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

prayer, anxious inquiries for the way of salvation,
eager attention to the proclamations of the gospel —
will attract his vigilant notice, and provoke his
severest censure. The thing is so common, and
has been so from time immemorial, as to cease to
excite surprise. Would you stir up in men's minds
serious concern respecting their highest interests,
the parish " priest " will be sure to cross your path
at every step. Gather around you the children
of the poor, to instil into their young and
susceptible hearts the truths of the gospel, and,
instantly, their parents are threatened with a
forfeiture of all claims upon parochial charity.
Circulate from house to house plain, pungent,
religious tracts, and in your second or third visit
you will learn that the vicar has forbidden their
reception. Assemble a few men and women
" perishing for lack of knowledge," that you may
preach to them the message of reconciliation, and
ten to one you will be informed, in the course
of a few weeks, that the occupant of the house
in which you laboured has been served with
a notice to quit. It matters nothing that your
efforts are free from all tinge of sectarianism- —
they are regarded as intrusive, irregular, and mis-
chievous. How many villages are there in this
country, in which, through clerical influence, it
is impossible to hire a room, ^^•ithin the narrow
walls of which to proclaim to rustic ignorance the

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 371

tidings of eternal life ! How many more in which,
from the same cause, misrepresentation, intimida-
tion, and oppressive power, are brought to bear
upon miserable and helpless dependents, to scare
them beyond reach of the gladsome sound of
mercy! How many millions of souls, hemmed
in on all sides by this worldly system of religion,
cry aloud from the depths of their ruin to earnest
Christians for help, whom, nevertheless, State-
churchism renders it impossible to reach ! It was,
doubtless, with this melancholy picture before his
eyes, that Mr, Binney so emphatically pronounced
his opinion — an opinion fully justified, I think,
by the facts of the case — that "the Church of
England destroys more souls than she saves."

A further impediment to the efficient and
successfiil prosecution of their benign mission by
the Churches, especially in England, has been
raised by a political provision for the proclamation
of divine truth, hardly less obstructive than the
foregoing. To an incalculable extent, it diverts
attention from the substance of God's message to
man, and occupies it upon the circumstances of its
delivery. It must be obvious to the slightest re-
flection, that the moral power of this gracious
communication upon the sympathies of those to
whom it is addressed, cannot but be seriously
modified by any preliminary doubts in regard to
the question of authenticity, whether affecting the

B B 2

372 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

message itself, or the messenger who bears it. If
upon the serving of a summons to a besieged
fortress, to open its gates to lawful authority, it
should appear that there are two parties insisting,
in the name of their sovereign, upon prompt
compliance with his demand, one of w^hom, how-'
ever, warned the besieged that they alone had
authority to receive submission, and that the
fulfilment of the terms offered could not be guaran-
teed by any but authorized servants of the Crown,
is it not certain that the moral impression likely to
be made upon the insurgents by the offer vouch-
safed them, would be suspended until some
decision had been arrived at as to which of the
parties before the gates of the fortress represented
the supreme authority 1 and would it not be pro-
bable that doubts would occur w^hether either
the one or the other could make good their pro-
fessions'? Some such result as this is produced
by the distinction set up between an authorized
and an unauthorized ministry. The reluctant will,
which a sympathizing and hearty exhibition of
Divine forgiveness might have gained, is called
upon to determine in the first instance a question
of apparently rival pretensions — a question, too,
in the discussion of which some of the most un-
lovely of human qualities must needs come into
prominence — and there cannot be a reasonable
doubt that, in myriads of instances, the inter-

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 373

position of this inquiry, has acted like a breakwater
against the subduing force of God's manifestation
of his mercy, and in myriads of others has operated
to obtain, in the place of a child-like and un-
- sophisticated surrender of the whole being to the
moral government of God, an act of partizanship
having more regard to the pretensions of the
herald, than to the character of the tidings which
he came to announce. None can correctly estimate
the loss accruing to sincere Christian effort on
this account. None can fairly appreciate tlie
hindrance which the gospel meets in the re-
serve, the suspicion, the self-retention, produced
in the minds of men by the incessant iteration
of this topic. The truth is, that the claim put
forward by tlie Church of England clergy, and
sanctioned in more ways than one by the law
of the land, to be regarded as the only authorized
ministers of Christ's word, practically shuts oat
from a vast area of society all spiritual effort
but their own, and constitutes candid attention
to the pleadings for God of other men, how^ever
able, however earnest, however winning, however
pious, an offence more serious than immorality.
Here, in England, and in Ireland too, a con-
siderable proportion of our middle-class are
deterred, not merely by fashion, but also by
conscience, from seeking any religious guidance
or stimulus from the labours of men not regularly

374 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

authorized by " the powers that be." Talent,
zeal, spirituality, persuasiveness, are, so far as the
souls of these people are concerned, utterly lost
and useless, unless they are duly certified by a
government stamp. They will not hear truth
from profane lips. They will not sanction the
rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. They
will not enter an unconsecrated " conventicle."
They will not, if they know it, glance at a
religious book from the pen of a Dissenter. In
all things they have learned to submit themselves
to " every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake,"
and the State Church is one of those ordinances.
Unless, therefore, the message of grace reach them
through the medium appointed by the civil magis-
trate, it will not reach them at all. The position
into which they have put themselves precludes it.
Nearly one-half of the middle-class, and that
half exerting by far the widest social influence,
are prevented by political religionism, operating
in the manner I have described, from gaining
otherwise than by an extremely indirect process,
the smallest spiritual advantage from any means
of usefulness worked outside the pale of the
Establishment. The moral influence of the un-
patronized Churches, such as it is, does not, and
cannot reach them. State-meddling with religion,
and tlie exclusive clerical pretensions which it has
suggested and kept alive, has put them beyond

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 375

its reach. So far as it is calculated to aid the
truth, so far they deliberately cast away the
benefit of it. To them there is no instrumentality
for bringing about reconciliation with God, but
that which civil rulers have appointed. This,
however, is not the only, although it is the most
decided form of obstruction, which the British
Churches have to encounter, owing to common de-
nunciation of unauthorized Christian effort. Upon
another, and by no means inconsiderable section
of the same class, exertion and influence in behalf
of Christ's kingdom, coming from without the
charmed circle of State authentication, are per-
mitted to come in contact with them occasionally
only, and by the bye. Religious means which
represent nothing more than the sympathy of
those who employ them with the truths and
objects of revelation, but which cannot claim to
represent magisterial authority, they do not deem
it becoming wholly to despise. Themselves will
resort to them sometimes. But they do so with
some latent sense of misgiving. What they hear,
they hear with a final reserve in favour of the
legalized system. They are still so far under the
spell of authorized priestism, that they hesitate
to leave all the approaches to their hearts open
to the entrance of divine truth from such quarters.
They cautiously hold possession of themselves, and
fence off any spiritual emotion by which they

376 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

might be surprised into a surrender. The appeal
made to them has to disarm the critic before it can
take captive the man. They are often impressed
— they are sometimes won — but the position into
which exclusive sacerdotal claims have betrayed
them, is a most unfavourable one for the full
development of the moral power of the gospel.

The preceding observations bring us by natural,
and almost unconscious, advances, in front of
another obstacle to the spiritual success of the
Churches, raised up by the miluence of political
religionism. The minds of men can hardly be
interested in any question touching the validity
of the instrument by which divine truth is set
before them, without connecting the saving power
of it more or less with the teacher's commis-
sion. Something besides a cordial and obedient
response to God's message by his Son is deemed
necessary to be accepted of him. That accept-
ance must be felt to be dependent, to some
extent, upon virtue imparted to the appointed
means by the legitimate official status of the
minister. This is the germ of ritualism, and
quicldy does it expand. He in whose soul it is
lodged must cither destroy it, or it will go hard
if it does not destroy him. Subjective Christianity
cannot, in any one instance, be viewed as an act,
without ceasing to be regarded as a life. The
man who is deceived into the conclusion that

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 377

the efficacy of the gospel is derived, in part, at
least, from something external to himself, such as
the validity of " holy orders," will find himself
beset with other ceremonial conditions. Every
exercise of faith and love towards God will be
regarded as unsatisfactory and incomplete, unless
in some manner sanctioned by priestly benediction.
From hence the steps are short and direct to the
substitution of things done to him and for him,
for the life quickened in him. Religion then
comes to consist of a series of performances, the
value of which is communicated by true sacer-
dotal intervention. This is substantially the
religion taught the subjects of these realms by
three-fourths of the clergy of the Church of
England, and this is the religion received and
relied upon by three-fourths, at least, of their
hearers. Baptism in infancy by a true minister
of the apostolic Church, confirmation at the dawn
of adolescence, regular attendance on the Lord's
day at the parish church, a periodical reception of
the sacrament, confession and absolution on the
bed of death, and "Christian burial" in conse-
crated earth — these will certainly bring a sinner
safe to heaven. More than this is Puritanism
and Methodism. I deny not that the reflex in-
fluence of a higher and more spiritual Christianity
than this has enlarged this basis of reconciliation
with God, in the apprehension of the seriously dis-

378 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

posed. But, taking the entire population of these
reahns professing to be Christian, I am convinced
that the mass of them will be found Christian in
this sense only. Let us run over the different
orders of society, and endeavour to ascertain how
far, in each case, this judgment is confirmed.

And first, for that section of society to whom
we give the general designation of the aristocracy.
They are, almost to a man, members of the
National Church. Few of them, perhaps, allow
of a momentary doubt, fewer still are taught to
cherish the doubt, whether they are entitled to
all the blessings which that Church professes to
bestow. Their ordinary habits are well known.
Their social customs, their favourite pursuits, their
amusements, their indulgences, the general tenor
of their life, the pervading tone of their conversa-
tion, are such as must lead the most charitable
to the conclusion that as a class, presenting, how-
ever, some noble exceptions, their religion is any-
thing rather than sympathy with God, as expressed
in the purport and provisions of the gospel. One-
ness of will with him as to the supremacy of truth,
rightness, love, in the soul of man, and all these by
hearty faith in his manifestation of himself in
Christ, is not, assuredly, the characteristic of the
order. But political religionism franks them for
eternity, and sacramental eJfficacy banishes every
shade of suspicion from their minds.

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 379

The middle-classes within the pale of the
Establishment, consisting of bankers, merchants,
members of the liberal professions, manufacturers,
farmers, and tradesmen, exhibit, under a somewhat
milder phase, perhaps, but with scarcely less dis-
tinctness, the prevailing ritualism of the religious
system they profess. Their morals are usually
decent — the duties of their domestic relationships
are fairly attended to. As to godliness — by which
I mean the habitual condition of their affections
in respect of the manifested God — they may be
ranged into two parties. The minority sympathize
with the main purport of Christ's spiritual kuig-
dom, and are, in many instances, devout and
faithful. The large majority — they who fairly
represent the influence of the system — know
scarcely anything of religion, but as a decent
observance of outward forms. That life of faith
which, in complacent repose upon the character
and purposes of God, looks with comparative
indifference upon the transitory and perishable —
that love to Jesus Christ, as the image of the
Invisible, which, glowing in the heart, makes
submission easy and duty a delight- — that fear of
God which shrinks from sin with greater sensitive-
ness than from human reproach and scorn — of
these they are profoundly ignorant, and brand
all pretensions to them as hypocrisy or fanaticism.
And yet, how many of these outwardly-respectable,

380 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRAKCES

but spiritually-inanimate people, ever dream that
they are devoid of religious principle'? The sus-
picion seldom or never crosses their minds, that
they are not, in the main, what Christianity meant
them to be. They live in unconcern, and they
die in hope — and they do both without having
caught a glimpse even of the grand moral purport
of God's message to their souls. They have Bibles,
it is true, but seldom deem it necessary to study
them. They have access to religious publications,
but rarely avail themselves of the advantage.
The forms of the State Church, the Church of the
Queen, the nobility, the gentry, the clergy, of
every respectable class, in fact, satisfy their con-
sciences ; and a little sentimental devotion, if they
ever rise to so high a mark, indulged in on
Sundays during Divine service, not merely dissipates
all doubt, but raises a flutter of self-gratulation
over the fancied superiority of their Christian
attainments.

Coming down to the lower walks of life, we
track the influence of combined priestly assump-
tions and ritual efficacy, engendered by political
religionism, in darker lines. The great mass of
the working men, according as their sphere may
chance to be in rural districts, or in crowded and
manufacturing towns, are either victims of the
grossest superstition, or have surrendered them-
selves up to a practical infidelity. In toAvn and

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 381

country alike, by far the greater part of them
absent themselves from public worship altogether.
Idcntifymg Christianity with the nationally author-
ized exhibition of it, and taught to regard the
Church Establishment as sanctioning and abetting
the oppression which crushes them to earth, their
natural distaste for the solemnities of religion is
irritated into a malignant hatred. They live,
therefore, in utter ignorance of what might, did
they but know it, be converted into the best
advocate and guardian of their rights, their
tenderest comforter in all their sorrows. Their
spiritual darkness is truly pagan. But ritualism
is very generally the last resource even of this
most hapless class. For if, perchance, such light
as is refracted by neighbouring piety disturb their
slumbers at the close of life, the visit of a clergy-
man, and the reception of the sacrament,, soothe
them to a rest which nothing but the realities of
eternity can break,

A further illustration of the obstructive influ-
ence of political religionism in this country, may
be found in its effects upon the Churches them-
selves. A vast system of machinery, erected and
kept in action by public law, and ostensibly
w^orked for the diffusion of Christian knowledge,
and the excitation of Christian feeling, but pro-
ductive, for the most part, of merely nominal
results, intercepts from the view of earnest spiritual

382 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

zeal, the real condition of the people. What
there is in this land of subjection to Christ's king-
dom, and of sincere desire to extend it, is mar-
vellously deceived by mere words and outward
appearances. We pass through life under the
influence of a dream, for which there is no
corresponding reality. We are a Christian people,
and we live under a Christian government. The
means of grace are, if not completely sufficient,
yet tolerably abundant. And generation succeeds
generation without the Churches being thoroughly
awake to the fact, that very much of this is but a
pleasant fiction — and that the spiritual life which
really exists amongst us, is extremely small in
comparison of what it appears to be. Now, were
our whole population left to downright, positive,
palpable ignorance — were its wants and woes left
in their own naked deformity to meet the eye
of compassion — were spiritual destitution not con-
cealed behind the screen of baptized nominalism
— and were human depravity suffered to harden
into its own natural forms, instead of bemg made
to run into artificial forms wearing the semblance
of a Christian Church — surely, the earnest Chris-
tianity of the country could not, as now, consent to
let it be, or look upon it only with cold emotions
of regret. All the willing piety of the land, all
the intelligent and sincere oneness of will with the
Saviour, would put forth its strength at the call

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 383

of SO obvious and imperative a necessity. The
blow which severed ,the union between Church
and State, would shard off all that thick coating
of paint with which political religionism has
concealed the real state of the country Godward,
and lay bare to inspection the rottenness of those
assumptions, which have wont to be regarded as
pillars of the truth. The Church of Christ in
these realms — that Church which consists of the
godly of every name — would find it has a great
work to do at home^ and would gird up its loins
to perform it. The State, by taking upon itself a
responsibility which properly devolves upon the
disciples of Christ alone — and by planting over
the entire surface of the kingdom the semblance of
religious means — has blinded the eyes of the
devout to the reality of the case, and has infected
with drowsiness the mind of the Christian portion
of the community. The Churches of the living
God, which have witnessed in silence this authori-
tative infraction of their Lord's arrangements, have
suffered fearful retribution. Whilst the unbelieving
world has largely felt the lamentable consequences
of their mistake, they have not escaped unscathed.
Feebleness has crept over them. The vigour of
their faith has declined. In none of their home
enterprises have they exhibited the nerve and
hardihood of Christian manliness. Much of that
veneration of truth for the truth's sake — that de-

384 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

voted subjection to principle — that earnest anxiety
to catch a gUmpse of duty, and, having caught
it, to follow its guidance, calmly and cheerfully
leaving consequences with God, which charac-
terised the members of Christ's Church in its purer
days, has been displaced by a spirit of expediency,
and a hesitancy to encounter, even for objects
of unquestionable importance, the ridicule and
scorn of the wisdom of this world. In heathen
countries, and beyond the range of what are desig-
nated Christian Establishments, noble attempts have
been made by religious zeal, and have succeeded.
At home, under the shade of State Churches, all
such efforts have been marked by a want of
breadth and depth of generosity and self-sacrifice.
The atmosphere of the religious world would seem
to have become stagnant in the immediate neigh-
bourhood of the unholy system under review ; and
piety, oppressed by its influence, has, as we have
seen, become sickly, and, to a considerable extent,
inefficient.

I deem it necessary to adduce but one more
instance of the impeding force exerted upon the
spread of divine truth by political religionism — but
it is a most weighty and impressive one. Christi-
anity supported by the State, is Christianity pro-
vided for by physical force. This is not theory
merely — in some part or other of the country we see
it every week reduced to practice. Now, in what

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 385

light does this mode of effecting, or attempting to
effect, the object of 'God in the gospel of Jesus
Christ, place the entire remedial dispensation, at
least to the apprehension of the unreflecting and
the inimical^ See in how many ways, and how
glaringly, it misrepresents the message of mercy !
The kingdom of our Lord is set forth in Scripture
as a spiritual kingdom — all the arrangements of
the economy which he came to found, and which
he is exalted to carry into effect, are clearly
and exquisitely contrived to win back to God
sympathies and affections in a state of revolt
against him — the sole instrument he commissioned
his followers to wield is truth — the sole power
with which they were to wield it, faith and love.
Physical force introduced into such a system, no
matter for what immediate purpose, changes the
entire aspect of it. It ceases to be, thenceforth, a
purely moral power. It is proclaimed to the
w^orld as a manifestation of God so devoid of
regenerative energy, that, although its appeal is
made to the hearts of men, it cannot trust to the
success of that appeal for permanent victory over
human selfishness. By declaring beforehand " I
will compel you," it belies its after-profession,
" I come to woo you." It is a formal, a public,
an authoritative admission of its own failure. It
ignores Christ as a ruler competent to do what he
has undertaken — or able by his grace to reclaim

c c

386 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

the lost, and to govern the redeemed. Men, m
general, judge by what they see. A system of
truth, the maintenance of which is enforced by the
sword, cannot, in their view, supj^osing them to
look no further, be a system designed to root
itself in the affections — for physical force cannot
touch the soul. The conclusion, therefore, is
natural, that Christianity was given to the world
for the purpose of making men d.o something
which they would not otherwise have done, rather
than love something which they would not other-
wise have loved. And hence, the real scope and
sphere of the gospel is falsified, and common
views respecting them, begotten and nourished
by political religionism, are so utterly astray, that
the truth which might have been reverently
listened to, is looked upon with suspicion and
dread. Christianity is benign. Its purpose is to
bless. Its power is its gentleness. As a thunder-
bolt it might rive the heart — it can enter it only
as the dew. Its mission is to make the Father
of all understood by his wayward and unnatural
children — that, being understood, he may be
trusted, loved, obeyed, as his character and his
purposes deserve. All its movements, therefore,
are conciliatory — all its plans, charmingly dis-
interested. It has a story of sorrow to tell —
of sorrow and of love. And it tells it with
inimitable simplicity. Every word of that narra-

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 387

tive breathes intense concern for human well-
beuig here and luereafter. All the facts it has
woven together, and all the lessons of moral
significance drawn from those facts, are plainly
intended to work a change in man's spirit — to
steal away enmity — to lead on and entice the
gloomy and guilt-ridden soul into the presence of
an outraged but forgiving Parent, and then and
there to surprise it into shame, penitence, tender-
ness, and trust, by overwhelming it with un-
deserved, unsought, unanticipated favouj. But
now, how can Christianity begin this work by a
resort to physical force, without creating a totally
mistaken view of its whole character and in-
tentions'? Political religionism, wearing on its
front the apostohc declaration inverted, and,
instead of professing with him, " I seek not yours,
but you," putting forward as its principle, " I seek
not you, but yours " — and I am bold to affirm that
this is the practical bearing of our State Churches
— political religionism thus palpably misrepre-
senting at the outset the essential characteristic
of Christ's kingdom amongst men, has diffused
throughout the country a feeling in regard to
Christianity terribly unfavourable to its persuasive
influence. The very nature of Christ's dispensa-
tion is, in consequence, widely misunderstood.
And the error which prevails respecting it, affects,
unhappily, not only advances on behalf of God

c c 2

388 SOCIAL A>'D POLITICAL HINDRANCES

and his gospel, when made by the members of
the political Church, but, to a considerable extent,
when made by Churches disclaiming all support
but what is voluntary. Men everywhere, and of
every class, are inclined to regard active effort
for the promulgation of divine truth, as a better
sort of craft — partly social, partly political — a
good thing, perhaps, in the main^ — but a thing
the principal object of which is attained when
the institutions by which it works are outwardly
respected and pecuniarily sustained. I have painted
the evil in the faintest colours. I have said less
by far than the facts of the case warrant me in
saying. But I have done so purposely, that I may
not, by employing too much strength, overshoot
my present mark. And I cannot but think enough
has been adduced to prove, that amongst the
obstacles which the Churches of Christ have to
encounter in this kingdom in the prosecution of
their beneficent spiritual enterprise, political reli-
gionism, or, in other words, Church establishments,
must be set down as one of the sturdiest and most
fatal.

For, that we may sum up the preceding observa-
tions, and collect all the light which they radiate into
a single focus, what is it, I beg to ask the reader,
that we have just seen? What is the gloomy
picture upon which we have been gazing 1 God's
revelation of himself, whereby he graciously aims

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES, 389

to affect the heart of rebel man, and win him
back to obedience, love, and joy — sole remedy for
human sin and woe — sole hope of a ruined race —
seized upon by secular power, and employed as a
tool, wherewith to hew out political and pecuniary
advantages, A system of spiritual truth, designed
for spiritual ends, clothed with the highest spiritual
sanctions, and capable of producing the grandest
spiritual results, taken under superintendence by
worldly authority, for the accomplishment of
worldly objects. In this awful perversion of
sacred and heavenly things to low, passing, and
paltry purposes, we see multitudes of individuals
entering upon the most solemn engagements to
which human powers can be consecrated, moved
by worldly motives, educated after a worldly
model, introduced to pastoral relationship by
worldly patronage, and drawing their main-
tenance from a worldly source. And the greater
part of these, the world's servants, for compassing
the world's objects, by promulgating the world's
notion of Christianity, are, as might reasonably
have been anticipated, fearfully active in extin-
guishing, wherever they meet with it, the light
of earnest piety, and have extensively succeeded
in diffusing through these realms a spurious re-
ligionism, which consists in a decent attention to
ecclesiastical formalities, and which leaves the
conscience unenlightened, and the heart un-

390 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

changed. The land is thus filled with, and pre-
occupied by, "another gospel" — not God's, for
that they have perverted and misrepresented, but
man's — unsanctified and selfish man's — and, be
the truth proclaimed whatever it may, it is
proclaimed by men holding their authority from
the State, subject to its will, made dependent
upon its bounty, and, by avowed alliance with
it, identified with the world. The lever by which
the empire of darkness is to be overthrown, is thus
taken in hand by powers and authorities known,
as a whole, to be hostile to evangelical vitality —
and divine truth, in the camp, and under the
orders of those who are opposed to her, ceases
to exert her elevating and purifying influence.
Earth's moral remedy is administered in combina-
tion with ingredients which completely neutralize
its power, and convert what was meant to quicken
spiritual life, into one of the strongest agents
of spiritual death.

Here, then, I close this imperfect review of
the external obstacles, social and political, with
which, in Great Britain, the Churches have more
or less to contend, in their endeavours to " com-
mend the truth to every man's conscience, in
the sight of God!" The natural unwillingness
of men to submit their hearts to the moral
government of their Lord and Master, is to be
overcome by fairly, and with all proper accom-

TO THE, SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 391

panying influences, enforcing upon the heart the
New Testament message of mercy. To a great
extent the Churches are prevented from doing
this by the several impediments which it has
been my object to describe — by the extreme
physical destitution of a large and increasing class
— by the excessive toil for subsistence of a still
larger — by popular ignorance, towards the removal
of which much has been, and more is being, done
— and by political religionism, which corrupts,
obstructs, perverts, and misrepresents the means
of spiritual regeneration. I should close this
chapter here, but that I am anxious to pave the
way for some practical suggestions in the next, by
offering one or two observations on certain special
features of great importance to be noted, by which
this whole class of external hindrances is charac-
terised.

And first, it will be useful to inquire a little
in reference to the responsibility attaching to the
Churches in relation to this order of impediments.
We see that they exist — we know that they are
powerful — who is accountable for their existence
and their power ? That they are permitted by
Divine Providence (doubtless for wise and gracious
purposes), it is impossible to deny — but that they
are, therefore, sanctioned by Providence, that they
owe their being, or their appalling magnitude,

392 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRAJSCES

to any causes but such as may be traced to, and
removed by, man, is a conclusion not only unsus-
tained by the great mass of facts relating to the
question, but contradictory, also, of all correct
views of the ends for which God's moral govern-
ment is being conducted. Nor can we, in justice,
charge these evils upon the individuals who are
themselves the victims of them. In very many
cases, unquestionably, individual misconduct may
have conduced to individual suffering — but surely
we cannot but be aware, that whether in the case
of extreme destitution, of excessive toil, of intellec-
tual neglect, or of political religionism, it would be
monstrous to assign personal and particular demerit
as the chief ground of the infliction. Yet respon-
sibility must be held to exist somewhere. It is
not my intention to fasten it exclusively upon the
Churches, but it does appear to me that the case is
one demanding very serious inquiry. For how
stands the matter? In the prosecution of their
beneficent mission, the several organizations of
Christ's disciples find themselves encountered by
social and political obstacles which, to an immense
extent, frustrate their object. Have they calmly
and scrupulously investigated the causes of these
obstacles] Have they evinced any anxiety to ascer-
tain whether they are partially or wholly remov-
able, by means within the reach of the great body
of Christian men in this country ? Have they

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 393

diligently availed themselves of such means when
fairly pointed out to them 1 If these questions
cannot be satisfactorily answered, it appears to
me that the Churches must take to themselves
a due and heavy share of the responsibility
incurred. For example, let us take the excessive
toil of so large a class of our workpeople — an
impediment to the success of the gospel wliich
can hardly be over-estimated, and which, at first
sight, appears to be in no respect owing to the
neglect of the Churches. Have religious men
who deeply deplore this fact, ever given weight
to the consideration that every one of our slaving
myriads is compelled to give at least one-third
of his toil and labour for the maintenance of
the government? Have they asked themselves
whether this enormous sacrifice is absolutely neces-
sary for the due support of civil rule 1 Have they
pondered the question whether, if the burden must
be borne, it is equitably distributed ? Have they
ever thought what might be the moral advantages
w^hich would accrue to society, and hence, the
greater probabilities of religious success, were our
artizans and labourers relieved of the larger pro-
portion of the fiscal oppression by the weight of
which they are well-nigh crushed? To all this,
the reply of many will be — " O, you are going into
politics, and, as a spiritual man, I have no taste for
them, and have avoided them as a snare." Well,

394 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

as a matter of taste, the inspection of filthy garrets
and cellars may be far from attractive — but a man
of philanthropy, wishing to ascertain the real
condition of the pooi-, and, if practicable, to
improve it, would blush to plead taste as a bar
to his benevolence. And a man of religious prin-
ciple, anxious for the removal of causes obstructive
of spiritual enterprise, ought to be ashamed to put
forward a like excuse. Is there or is there not cul-
pable extravagance on the part of those who preside
over the machinery of civil government? Is it, or
is it not, a fact that such extravagance limits the
resources of industry in this country 1 And are
Christian men able, or are they not, to exercise any
influence for the diminution of this cruel wrong 1
Again, I say, the answer to these and many similar
questions will determine the amount of respon-
sibility in each case. I might pursue a like course
of remark in regard to the other obstructions
upon which I have dwelt. I presume not to
determine, or even to conjecture, the extent to
which their continued existence is to be ascribed
to the folly or the indifference of the British
Churches. I will only observe, that whatever
could have been done by them for the cor-
rection of these evils which has been left undone,
must be regarded as affording the true measure
of culpability with which they are chargealjle
in this matter — and, I apprehend that sympathy

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 395

with party principles, or distaste for searching-
political investigation, will be found to be a poor
excuse for neglect of duty, when human conduct
comes to be judged, not by conventional standards,
but by the unerring principles of right and wrong.
There is one who represents himself as saying,
in reference, too, to temporal benevolence — " Inas-
much as ye did it not unto the least of these my
brethren, ye did it not unto me."

I deem it important to notice, further, the
nature of the resistance which this class of hin-
drances offers to the direct agency of the Churches.
Whether originating in physical or in political
and intellectual causes, the effect of them is to
put those who are subject to their influence, to all
practical purposes, beyond the reach of God's
gospel. They operate not merely as a moral dis-
qualification for recognising and appreciating the
import of divine truth — they actually prevent even
the forms of truth from coming under consideration.
Men suffering under the disadvantages we have
described, are precluded by them from even
hearing the glad tidings of grace, unless by acci-
dent. For all the spiritual chances, if I may so
speak, which they can be said to enjoy, they might
almost as well live in the centre of the Chinese
empire. True, Christian light is so refracted, that
there is scarcely a corner of the kingdom into
which some glimmer of it does not penetrate,

396 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

and, looking only to social consequences, purify.
But in regard to that direct promulgation of the
revealed will of God, by which human hearts are
to be brought into agreement with the Eternal,
these impediments are of a character to prevent
even a trial of its vivifying power. They come
between the appointed instrument and the materials
upon which it is intended to work. They inter--
cept the application of the remedy. Truth cannot
display its victorious energy upon the heart in
such cases, because truth cannot get at it. The
first conditions of success are wanting. One may
ask in relation to people suffering under the dis-
advantages adverted to, as the apostle asked in
reference to the Gentiles, " How then shall they
believe on him of whom they have not heard]"
It is the sad characteristic of the condition under
which they labour, that they cannot hear. Ordi-
nary religious means do not come in contact with
them — and, indeed, as a general rule, admitting
of but very casual exceptions, cannot.

Hence, I go on to remark, that no multiplication
of direct religious means will effectually meet the
case. Chapel-building to any conceivable extent
will not so much as touch the hindrances under
review. Scripture readings and City missions,
cheering as may be individual instances of success,
do not fairly grapple with them, and will never
overcome or remove them. As a rule, and speak-

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 397

ing of classes rather than of every mdividual of
which the class may consist, we are bold to say
that people huddled promiscuously together, and
crowded, as are our lowest poor, into filthy domi-
ciles, confined, close, pestiferous, cannot be made
religious — that people strained with unintermitting
toil, exhaustive of all elasticity of body and mind,
cannot be brought to take an active interest in
moral truths — and that people who have sur-
rendered themselves to political religionism cannot
be influenced by a gospel wdiich they take care
shall never, if they can help it, come across them
for consideration. It may be very well, and it
seems very pious, to say, " Preach the gospel —
go on preaching the gospel — that, after all, is the
only way to recover lost souls." But preaching
the gospel in England, everybody knows, would
not be the way to save souls in New Zealand —
in order to this, there must be, not preaching only,
but preaching within the hearing, and in the lan-
guage, of those who are to be regenerated. Phy-
sical obstacles must be overcome by physical
means — political obstacles by political means. For
the purpose of the New Zealanders, he would, in
the outset, best meet the necessity of the case,
not who could preach the gospel in England, but
who could steer a ship to the antipodes, and who
could master the language, and adapt himself to
the habits, of the natives. So with regard to our

398 SOCIAL AND POLITICAL HINDRANCES

own poor, and our politically prejudiced, what is
wanted is, that the distance between us and them
should, in the first place, be conquered. The
hindrances in the way, so far as they are concerned,
are of as irremovable a character by direct re-
ligious agency, as if they were geographical.
We must, therefore, set ourselves to attack, in
their case, not depravity by a promulgation of
the gospel, but crowded dwelling-houses, filthy
habits, utter domiciliary discomfort, by appropriate
remedial methods — we must carry on our first
warfare against all that unnecessarily augments
the toil and penury of working men — we must
combat ignorance by educational efibrt — and
annihilate political religionism by getting rid of
State establishments of religion. They who are
so perpetually urging the Churches to confine all
their attempts to the preaching of the gospel, may
be reminded that something may be done by prac-
tically exemplifying the gospel. When John
Williams built his ship for visiting the isles of
the Pacific, he did just that one thing necessary
to be done in order to give divine truth to those
who needed it. When will our Christian professors
exhibit a like wisdom, and do just what must be
done in order to the removal of social and political
hindrances to the success of the Churches in this
kingdom? When will their piety be of that
intelligent and manly cast as to set tliem upon

TO THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCHES. 399

sweeping crossings, if dirty crossings were found
to be directly obstructive of spiritual success]
When will they get clear of the childish error,
that religious acts are only acts performed by
religious means; or come to know that any act,
whether it be prayer to God, or street-cleansing
for men, whether it be arguing away a prejudice
of infidelity, or removing a tax upon oppressed
but patient industry — every act which is done from
a religious motive, and with a view to religious
ends, is as much an offering of affectionate and
faithful homage to the Saviour, as if it had taken
the most spiritual form, or had been presented in
the most solemn worship"? But I am uncon-
sciously forestalling what it will be more suitable
to discuss in the next and concluding chapter.
I have set forth the evils which enervate and
impede the British Churches — I have now before
me the more difficult task of suggesting practical
remedies.

CHAPTER VIII.

REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS AND CONCLUSION.

CONTENTS.
THE vis medicatrix of vital Christianity — our duty to remove

OBSTRUCTIONS TO ITS ACTION — ^WHAT PRACTICAL CHANGES DOES SUCH
DUTY INVOLVE? THOSE AFFECTING THE SPIRITUAL LIFE ITSELF —
DIVINE INFLUENCE NOT TO BE EXPECTED BUT IN CONFORMITY WITH
DIVINE PRINCIPLES OF ADMINISTRATION — STUDY OF GOD's CHARACTER
NECESSARY TO DISINTERESTED SYMPATHY — RECOGNITION OF THE
GRACE OF THE GOSPEL NECESSARY TO FREE SER\T:CE— CHRISTIANITY
RECEIVED AS A MASTER PRINCIPLE NECESSARY TO THE UNIVERSALITY
OF RELIGIOUS LIFE — CHANGES AFFECTING THE MACHINERY OF THE
CHURCHES — TO BE INTRODUCED CAUTIOUSLY' — BUILDINGS FOR PUBLIC
WORSHIP — FREE DISPUTATIONS— GRADUAL PREPARATION FOR A MORE
GENERAL EMPLOYMENT OF THE GIFT OF TEACHING — FUTURE AMALGA-
MATION OF " INTERESTS " AND DENOMINATIONS — SUGGESTIONS
AFFECTING THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF CHURCHES — MAINTENANCE
BY THE CHURCHES OF THEIR OWN POOR — EXERTIONS FOR THE
BENEFIT OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD— PUBLIC SPIRIT IN RELATION TO
men's TEMPORAL AND SPIRITUAL WELFARE — USE OF THE PRESS —
CLOSING OBSERVATIONS.

D D

CHAPTER VIII.

The last, and, on many accounts, the most diffi-
cult part of the task I have ventured to undertake,
remains to be attempted. It is confessedly, and,
indeed, proverbially, easier to discover what is
amiss, than to show how it may be amended —
to describe disease, than to suggest its appropriate
cure. I am deeply sensible of this — and were it
not that in the present instance, more than in
most, the detection of debihtating causes is tanta-
mount to an exposition of the remedies they
require, I should have shrunk from this portion
of my work, overwhelmed by a sense of my own
incompetence. Happily, however, my views of the
religious life are such as to leave me very much
at my ease in this matter. It is one of the articles
of my creed, that spiritual vitality, equally with
physical, supplies, in every instance, the vis
medicatrix, which will be searched for in vain
amongst extrinsic agencies — and, just as an ex-

D D 2

40-i REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

perieiiced physician regards it as his main hiisiness
to give Nature fair play, and to content himself
with removing those obstructions which hinder
the free exercise of her several functions, so I take
it to be my duty to attempt nothing more in
reference to the sickliness of the British Churches,
than simply to submit to them what, in my appre-
hension, they must do, in order to give the life
that is in them free scope for the development of
its inherent powers. 1 have no nostrum in whose
healing virtues I place implicit faith — no specific
unknown to the religious world — no particular
forms of worship, or modes of discipline, or novel-
ties of doctrine, wherewith to bring about a general
revival — nor do I give much heed to those pro-
fessing that they have. The remedy for all the
mischief, or, at least, for most of it, upon which
Ave have been dwelling, and the examination of
which has naturally excited in us such unpleasant
emotions, has been overlooked only in consequence
of its extreme simplicity — missed, merely because
it lies at our very feet — never thought of, because
we are laboriously searching the whole world for
what can be found nowhere but in our own souls.

In the outset of our investigations. Spiritual
Life was the fundamental idea from which we
started. AVe have seen what enervates it, what
injuriously modifies its action, and what prevents
its roi)roduc:tion of itself Having done this, we

AND COiNCLUSION. 405

naturally coine back to it again, as the grand
remedial agent, to consider whether any, and
what, practical steps can be taken to free it from
those extraneous elements by which its power is
depressed and its growth impeded. It will be
seen, therefore, that the work I have undertaken
is not so difficult as, at first blush, it might appear
to be. All that pertains to it of a positive
character is settled by laws laid down by Infinite
Wisdom. The great curative agent, is, in fact,
identical with the heaven-given manifestation of
God which begets life — what we have to do is
simply to get rid of what is proved to be un-
favourable to its action. Or, to resort to another
figure, which may convey a more accurate and
impressive notion of the business we have in hand
— here is a picture, the freshness and beauty of
which time and neglect have done much to
obscure, and which, consequently, fails of exciting
in the minds of spectators the pleasurable ideas
and sensations, which it was originally meant and
adapted to excite. We wish to restore it — and
the method of attempting this prescribed to us
by prudence, is, not to repaint it, not to retouch
it, nor, indeed, to leave a single mark of our own
ingenuity upon it, but merely to cleanse with care
all dirt from its surface, and enable it to show to
the world what it really is. Even this may prove
a hard task — but it is quite clear that a true

406 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

conception of what is required to be accom-
plished, will save us from not a few needless
difficulties, and help us to concentrate attention
upon those points only which are of a nature to
repay it.

Let it be understood, then, that our present
object is simply this — to lay down two or three
leading principles bearing on the culture and
development of spiritual life, and to point out the
kind of changes in the spirit, machinery, and action
of the British Churches, w^hich a rigid adherence
to those principles would necessarily introduce.
Or, let the subject-matter of our present mquiry be
stated thus. To a race of intelligent creatures
endowed with mental and moral capabilities for
delighting in God as the Supreme Good, but whose
will is not in unison with his as to the great end
of their being, he has been pleased to display his
character and intentions in a remedial economy,
with the express view of attracting towards them,
and assimilating to them, all the sympathies of
human nature. He has sent into this world a
message of love in order that they who hear it
may joyfully consent to put themselves under the
government of his Son, and he has appointed
a certain agency for making universal proclamation
of that message to mankind. To a lamentable
extent, this mission has fallen short of what might
reasonably have been anticipated from it. The

AND CONCLUSION, 407

adaptation of the message itself, when duly pre-
sented, to alter men's views of God, and turn the
current of their affections towards him, cannot be
questioned by any who believe that it came from
him, and, indeed, forces itself upon our conviction
upon the slightest examination of its purport.
The agency selected for proclaiming it has been
seen to be the fittest agency. But the work of
persuasion goes on so slowly and unsatisfactorily,
as to make the conclusion unavoidable, that it is
not prosecuted in accordance with the Divine plan,
and that, in order to large success, it is necessary
for the Churches to get back to that plan. What
practical changes does this necessity involve 1
What should we do, or what forbear to do, in order
for the British Churches to resume their normal
character and functions ] These are the questions
towards a solution of which the following observa-
tions are offered as a contribution.

My remarks will have a natural reference, in the
first place, to the character of the spiritual life
itself which the Churches embody, and which they
are commissioned, instru mentally, to re-produce.
I have already sa'd that large spiritual triumphs
over the unwilling, must be preceded by a higher,
nobler, diviner style of religion in those who pro-
fessedly are the willing subjects of Christ. I
imagine all thoughtful persons will admit this —
the question of difficulty is, how is the result to

408 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

be brought about ? Now, in what I shall submit
upon this subject, I shall take for granted that
whatever belongs exclusively to God in the contem-
plated work, will be done without fail, wherever it
can be done in conformity with the fixed laws of
his spiritual kingdom, and not otherwise. I fully
admit the duty of the Churches to recognise their
dependence upon, and to supplicate the influence
of, the Holy Spirit, without which, it were as vain
to expect a spiritual harvest, whatever may be the
means employed, as for the tiller of the soil to
suppose that earth will yield her abundance with-
out the communication of God's life-giving energy.
He is the immediate author of life of every kind —
vegetable, animal, intellectual, and spiritual — and
this prerogative he has reserved to himself. But
in every world, vegetable, animal, intellectual, or
spiritual, he imparts that life only upon conditions
settled by himself beforehand — and just as it would
be vain to spend years in beseeching him to
quicken grain which has never been put into the
soil, so is it equally vain to importune spiritual
success in the absence of all those means which he
has appointed to produce it. We may pray night
and day for a revival — but only as prayer may
elevate us into that region of true spirituality from
which we can see clearly what a revival pre-sup-
poses and implies, can we justly expect God's
communication of life as an answer to our requests.

AND CONCLUSION. 409

Thus, if we are sowing bad seed, our prayers, if
sincere and fervent, may be answered by the dis-
covery to us that it is bad seed — but depend upon
it, that no importunity of ours, however perse-
vering, Avill prevail on the Author of life to make
bad seed yield good fruit. And worthy of equal
reliance is the statement that supplications for the
reviving effusions of the Spirit of God, can never
be answered until that which hinders his commu-
nication of himself be taken out of the way. My
business, therefore, is with these hindrances — my
object, to suggest those changes in the character of
spiritual life, which will allow of the surest, fullest,
most exuberant, impartation of himself by God to
the Churches, in conformity with the laws which
his own Infinite Wisdom has prescribed for him-
self.

Assuming, therefore, as I think I have a right
to assume, on broad scriptural grounds, that all
which in the divine life is dependent upon the will
of the Supreme is ready for communication to the
Churches, and waits only their putting themselves
in the way to receive it, I venture to suggest to
them what appears to me to be requisite in order
to their enjoyment of the blessing in abundance.
They would be filled with God. But in order to
this, they must understand God, they must sym-
pathize with God, they must willingly yield
themselves to God — in other words, they must be

410 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

heartily at one with him, as to what he is, as to
what he does, as to what he purposes. Such oneness
cannot, I contend, be produced to anything like the
extent of which our nature will admit, until his
great design in our original constitution, and in his
remedial economy, comes to occupy that prominent
place in our minds, which it evidently does in his
proceedings. We must go to our Bibles afresh,
and study them with a new key to their mean-
ing. AVe must traverse the rich and varied fields
of revelation with principles in our hearts which
will give us a deeper insight into their ineffable
beauty. We must start again, not with the para-
mount intent of finding happiness, but of finding
God. Our souls must look more earnestly up-
wards, and less selfishly inwards. Emotion will
be as the truth is which we reverently study —
choice will be as the emotion is which we most
deeply feel. So long as ourselves constitute our
end in the contemDlation of God's works and word,
so long we remain unpossessed of the higher taste
to which their special glory is revealed Not our
own destiny, but God's character, should be the
object of our search. Let us see, in his own
representation of himself, what He is, for all that
we are, or ever shall be spiritually, will tally with
our knowledge of him. We have hitherto, it
may be, sought salvation exclusively — may we not
heighten our aim % may we not seek God himself]

AND CONCLUSION. 411

Is this a distinction without a difference 1 I appre-
hend not. What is the general tone of mind with
which the message of love is read or pondered in the
former case ? One in which will be found largely
intermingled, doubt, fear, self-reference, and al-
ternations of feeling as fitful as are the aspects
of truth viewed through the atmosphere of our
own supposed interests. I can conceive of some=
thing fir nobler than this. I can conceive of man
as coming to Divine revelation in a spirit much
likelier to descry its wondrous significance, and
to yield itself up to its life-giving communication
— a spirit, the bent of which such language as
the following may intelligibly, but feebly repre-
sent:— "This volume contains, wrapped up in a
variety of symbols, all that may be known by
us of the Eternal Spirit. Herein the Highest,
in such manner as he saw to be best suited to our
nature, has displayed himself — his attributes, his
character, his will, his heart. This is his story
of himself to man, given to win back to himself
man's love. He asks our hearts, and he gives us this
copy of his own, that we may gladly and gratefully
surrender what he asks. Disinclined to comply with
his demand, which, nevertheless, I know and admit
his right to make, T turn to this manifestation
of himself that I may know him better — for really
to know him is to love him, really to love him is
to possess him, the sublimest end of which a

412 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

creature is capable. To search intently through
this record for what is loveable in God is the
work to which his goodness has invited me. To
this pursuit I Avill consecrate my best powers,
and humbly look up to him for that promised
assistance, whereby I may be favoured to appre-
hend him rightly." Now, I must take leave to
express my full conviction that the study of God's
gospel with a predominant view to the end which
the foregoing language is intended to express, will
result in a much higher kind of religion than most
of that which obtains at present in the British
Churches. I believe that whilst they continue to
look into the glass of the revealed word chiefly to
become sure of, and familiar with, somewhat per-
taining to their own future destiny, they never will,
and never can, rise to a commanding and all-con-
quering height of piety. They have gained all, or
nearly all, of assimilating power which such a
purpose can exert upon them, when they have
gamed an assurance of their own safety. Hence, a
subsequent contraction, rather than an expansion,
of their spiritual sympathies is to be looked for.
Not so, whenever they shall be persuaded to turn
to the gospel with a governing desire to ascertain
more and more of God — to get at his mind — to
comprehend his excellence — to become conversant
with the principles of his government — to gaze
upon illustrations of his character and purpose.

AND CONCLUSION. 413

In this direction they may be steadily and ever
advancing, and every step which they take will
tend to increase indefinitely their spirituality and
their power.

Turning now from the somxe of spiritual life
to the exercise and action of it, I suggest that
the Churches should accustom themselves to con-
sider nothing as done to God which is not done
by them of their own affectionate choice. He has
placed them upon that footing of relationship to
himself, that whatever service they offer to him in
the prosecution of his beneficent designs towards
men, must be true volunteer service — presented
as an expression, all unworthy as it is and must
be, of heartfelt sympathy with him. They should
learn to regard with feelings of humiliation and
shame the doing of anything for their Master
task wise. They should habituate themselves to
the idea that a grudging recognition of obligation
is utterly unworthy of their own position, and a
serious dishonour done to their Lord. And, as
ministering the best and most powerful stimulus
to cheerful activity and self-sacrifice, they may
associate with their earnest study of the Divine
character, the consideration that they are invoked
by love rather than enjoined by law, for whatever
practical response their nature can yield. In
respect of both the points just alluded to, it would
be well if the pervading spiiit of what is addressed

414 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

to the Churches, whether from the pulpit or the
press, were of a more genial and suasive character.
Men cannot be driven into godliness, nor into any
of its manifestations — and if they could, their god-
liness would be little worth. Reluctant wills
cannot be subdued by law, however reasonable —
they can only be subdued by love. On this
account the gospel was given — with this in view
the gospel must be preached. Paul, " knowing
the terrors of the Lord, laboured" all the more
earnestly, not to terrify, but " to persuade men."
That which was a powerful motive to liis bene-
volence, was not, however, the most influential
one to their unwillingness. The call of the
Church to the world ought to be still, " Come —
whosoever will, let him take of the water of life
freely." Aye ! " Come " best expresses the drift
of the whole dispensation, whether the effort be
to turn a sinner, or to draw out a saint. The
tenor of all our ministrations should be such as
may most fitly terminate in the exhortation,
" Come." The entire economy is framed upon a
principle which addresses itself to immortal souls
in that one word, " Come." All that we feel,
and all that we do, should constitute a response
to that invitation, " Come." Would that the
Churches thoroughly understood this ! Would
that they had diimk more deeply than as yet
they seem to have done, into the spirit of "the

AND COMCLUSION. 415

perfect law of liberty ! " Till they do, their ex-
ercises will yield little gladness to themselves, will
exert little power upon others, in ccmparison of
what they might do.

The next, and last point on which I shall offer
any suggestions touching individual spiritual life
in connexion with our Churches, relates to the
sphere of its manifestation. The Christianity of
the present day, as I have intimated, is too much
a separate department of human duty — a distinct
engagement occupying itself chiefly with direct
religious exercises, public, domestic, and private.
What is wanted, and w^hat, if our s^^mpathies are
in union with God in the gospel, will be forth-
coming, is a governing character to impress itself
upon all that ^^e do in all our relationships — a
living and assimilating influence to penetrate and
pervade all our activities. To be at one with God
— the great object to secure which his Son was
given to, and came amongst, men — is to agree with
him as to all that he has revealed touching the
essential principles of rightness upon which his
moral government is based. And as a taste for
beauty when once elicited and formed can never
become dormant, let the subject of it be where
he will, so sympathy with rightness, whether it
have immediate respect to God or to his creatures,
can never be suspended in any of the varied scenes
of human life. "What an immense change would

416 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

this substitution of the universal for the technical
in religion introduce amongst us ! The shibboleths
of party would disappear, but the energy of
spiritual principle would everywhere be felt. The
man of God would be recognised, not as now, by
a certain class of habits and proceedings exhibiting
a direct religious stamp, although spiritual exer-
cises, whether of a social or personal character,
would probably be quite as frequent as at present.
But these would not constitute the special charac-
teristics of the hidden life within him. He would
be known in his own household, not merely as a
ruler, but as a considerate friend, taking thought
for the comfort and welfare of the humblest menial
of whose services he availed himself. He would
be known in his counting-house, or workshop, or
factory, his ship, his farm, or his mine, as one
upon whom the dependence of others produced
an anxious desire not merely to do justice, but to
evince goodwill, and, wherever practicable, to
confer advantage. He would be known in his
shop, at market, or on 'change, as a man whose
word was his bond, whose character was un-
impeachable, in whose principles ample security
might be found for the fulfilment of his engage-
ments, whose soul soared far above all equivoca-
tions, all tricks, all customary dishonesties, and
who, whether as buyer or seller, was transparently
faithful to every claim of honour. He would be

AND CONCLUSION. 417

known in his neighbourhood as interested in the
friendless, as sympathizing with the wretched, active
in his benevolence, and an uncompromising foe
to every form of oppression. He would be known
in political circles as a conscientious citizen, whose
opinions had been scrupulously tested by his reli-
gion ; who, sujjerior to the clamours of party, lent
his influence only for what he conceived would
benefit man ; who would wink at nothing tyran-
nical, nothing corrupt ; and who, in his political
sphere, was aiming to exemplify the simple, pure,
and benignant spirit of the Christian faith. Every-
where he would live the Christian — everywhere he
would make his character felt as a Christian, The
least remarkable thing about him to the eye of
the world would be that which now almost exclu-
sively distinguishes men professing godliness —
direct religious engagements. I respectfully submit
to the British Churches, that their first and indis-
pensable step towards a higher condition of vigour
and efficiency, must be an earnest cultivation in
their individual members of this unselfish, sponta-
neous, and universal spiritual life. In the absence
of any settled intention with regard to these
matters, I look upon prayers for revival, protracted
meetings, and all the other varieties of extraor-
dinary religious efi'ort, as more likely to foster
delusion, than to promote godliness. The work
.of revival must commence in our own characters.

E E

418 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIO^'S

This is the grand requisite to larger success.
With this intelligible, reasonable, definite, and
practical object in view, fervent prayer, both
united and private, and frequent and mutual
exhortations, might, indeed, count upon success.
A channel, if I may so speak, would thus be
opened for the flow of the Holy Spirit's influences.
The fallow-ground being broken up, and sowed
with the seeds of righteousness, Heaven's blessing
might be confidently invoked, and a rich harvest
would be sure to follow,

I pass on to make a suggestion or two bearing
upon the Churches' arrangements for proclaiming
and enforcing God's message of love by his Son.
And here it may be proper to remark in the
outset, that whilst desirable changes aflecting
personal character cannot be too soon attempted,
those, on the other hand, which relate to the
machinery of dispensing spiritual blessings, ought
to be introduced gradually and with caution. We
do not wisely to break up what, in our judgment,
works unsatisfactorily, until we are prepared with
what will work better. I would not advocate
destruction of anything which now exists — any-
thing, I mean, not positively wrong in its own
character — save by the safe and effectual process
of superseding it by something more adapted to
achieve the results we seek. Experience corro-
borates common sense in instructing us, that it.

AND CONCLUSION. 419

is far more discreet to make tlie best use possible
of a defective instrument until we have contrived
to fashion a more efficient one, than to throw it
away, and leave ourselves without any instrument
at all. I am far, therefore, from advising an indis-
criminate onslaught on things as they are. It may
be desirable to arrive at many alterations, which
it would be anything but prudent to introduce
abruptly, and without long and painstaking pre-
paration. Upon such, the Churches will do well,
I think, to keep an eye, and to take advantage,
as opportunity serves, of every opening which will
admit of an advance towards the ultimate realiza-
tion of the entire change in view. I would be
understood to lay great stress on this point, for
I believe that nothing tends more directly to
reconcile intelligent minds to existing, and even
glaring defects, than the utter failure which
usually follows upon the efforts of intemperate
zeal to get rid of them altogether. Nothing is
more apt to overleap itself than desire for novelty.
In the suggestions, therefore, which it may occur
to me to make on the present head, I hope it may
be distinctly apprehended, that my sole purpose
is to point out the direction in which the British
Churches should proceed, as they can, to remedy
what is defective in their present arrangements for
giving utterance to divine truth.

To begin with matters of the smallest importance

E E 2

420 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

— namely, huildings appropriated to spiritual uses.
There cannot be a doubt that there exists very
widely, in connexion with this subject, an immense
amount of superstitious feeling, in its influence
obstructive of religious effort. It would seem from
the tenor of the entire narrative contained in the
Acts of the Apostles, that those founders of the
Christian Church attached no importance whatever
to sanctity of place, and that they gladly availed
themselves of any accommodation for preaching
the truth Avhich the locality they visited might
happen to aff'ord. A separate building, devoted
to religious purposes, and to religious purposes
only^ does not appear to have been regarded
by them as a pre-requisite to founding a Church
of Christ. There was very extensive spiritual
destitution in their day, go where they would,
and yet we never find them at a standstill
for want of chapel-building — never meet with a
hint from them touching the necessity of collec-
tions for this purpose. I do not adduce this
as showing that ive can dispense with such
accommodation, but as proving that they were but
little troubled with our squeamishness. In all
our considerable towns, how large is the number
of spacious rooms, even in the most neglected
districts, which might be made available for the
proclamation of the glad tidings on the Lord's
day ! What a comparatively small amount of

AND CONCLUSION, 421

outlay, or of annual expense, would be required
to turn them to account! And yet, freely
admitting that such facilities are partially seized,
to how limited an extent in comparison of what
they might be ! Why does not the preaching of
the gospel pervade every corner of our populous
cities 1 The public and oral teaching of an
important political truth is seldom prevented by
the want of suitable edifices. Why should God's
truth 1 that which most closely affects the present
and eternal destiny of every human being'? Why
so often leave large districts without spiritual
culture, until a church or chapel can be provided?
I shall be told that superstition has nothing to
do with the phenomenon, as is proved by the
instances in which such places have been, and
still are, occupied for divine worship. The ex-
ceptions, I reply, are not numerous enough to
nullify the conclusion. And that it is generally
deemed desirable, wherever it is possible, that
the place appropriated to the publication of the
gospel, should be one used exclusively for that
purpose, I am justified in inferring, from the
almost universal prohibition of the emj^loyment
of what are called " sacred edifices" for any other
object — even such objects as all would agree to
be right and proper. It is certain that this
jealousy prevents thousands from ever entering
a place of worship, who, if allowed occasionally

422 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

to come to it for purposes in which they do take
an interest, would divest their minds of an awkward
prejudice, and visit on a Sunday the building
with which they had familiarized themselves by
casual visits for other objects than religion. But
piety, I suspect, must be of a much more intelli-
gent order, before the same edifices which are used
by Christian assemblies, for spiritual purposes, will
be made equally available for any purpose whereby
man may be benefited in mind or morals. The
advantages, however, which would probably be
concurrent with, or follow close upon, our rising
superior to those feelings which originate in
attaching an idea of sanctity to brick walls, would
suggest some improvements in the structure of
our places of worship, and remove some of the
inconveniences which tend to produce an unhappy
moral impression. We might get rid of pews
— we might get rid of pulpits — we might throw
open our chapels to all comers, as unreservedly
as we do a public hall, leaving every one, without
distinction, to take any place which at the time
of his entrance might remain unappropriated — we
might eschew, and the sooner the better, the entire
system of pew-rents, and meet such expenses as
we might incur by voluntary subscription — and
we might turn to useful account, during the week,
the edifice in ^vhich we assemble for devotion and
instruction on the Lord's day. If I am asked

AND CONCLUSION. 423

what the Churches would gain by such an arrange-
ment, I reply, in few words — something in the
way of destroying formality — still more in abolish-
ing, at our seasons of worship, every trace of
w^orldly distinctions — a little, perhaps, in the dis-
couragement of professionalism — not a little in
proving to those who do not sympathize with
us in our main object, that we are ready to
afford them every facility within our reach for
elevating their character and condition — and,
perhaps, more than all, in gradually wearing out
that prejudice in many minds which regards the
church or the chapel as tabooed to such as they.
In one word, we should substitute for a great
deal of essential Pharisaism, some proofs of en-
lightened interest in the well-being of our neigh-
bours.

Leaving now the buildings for the engagements
carried on within their walls, I submit, as worthy
of the consideration of the Churches, whether some
methods of approach might not be adopted, on
behalf of God's gospel, in regard to those who do
not sympathize with its claims, of a much freer
character than a set religious service implies. We
are informed by the inspired historian, that when
Paul was at Ephesus, it was his practice, " for the
space of three months," to go into the synagogue,
and speak boldly, " disputing and persuading the
things concerning the kingdom of God." Now, we

424

REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

have no proceedings answering to that description*
— the nearest pubHc apj)roximation to it, so far as I
am acquainted, being the plan just adopted by the
Congregational Union of delivering lectures, having
a religious aspect, to working men. I rejoice in
that as a good beginning — but I apprehend it must
be carried out with much less formality, and much
more habitually, by the Churches, in order to large
success. It appears to me that their place of
assembly might be thrown open by most Cliristian
organizations once a week — not for a religious
service, in the common acceptance of that phrase,
but for " disputing and persuading the things con-
cerning the kingdom of God." At such meeting,
under no further restriction than is obviously
necessary to prevent confusion, intelligent members
of the Church should be encouraged to enforce the
message of mercy upon those assembled, with the
same freedom as they would, on other occasions,
commend a political truth, or urge on a social
reform. I would put no interdiction upon the
manifestation of feeling, Avhether assenting or dis-
senting, by the audience. I would give all present
full liberty to ask questions, to start objections, or
to speak in opposition. In fact, I would have the
gospel propounded, illustrated, discussed, com-
mended, on these occasions, as any other great

* An individual instance or two I admit — but am only personally
cognisant of one carried out by Mr. Burnet of Camberwell.

AND CONCLUSION. 425

truth, or system of truth, is dealt with, when the
intention is to make it known far and wide, and
induce men to receive it. Several advantages
would, I think, accrue from the adoption of this
method, in addition to those already in operation,
of which, however, I shall only mention two. It
would attract and interest a vast number of minds
which a set rehgious service either repels altogether
or utterly fails to stir. It would elicit inquuy. It
would make Christianity more obviously a matter
of individual concern. It would ruffle stagnation,
even if it did nothing more. It would bring Christ's
disciples into closer contact with his foes. It
would open up to them the retreats of thought, or
of credulity, to which the irreligious betake them-
selves for the purpose of evading conviction. It
would bring out an immense mass of information,
hardly to be attained otherwise, throwing light
upon the actual position and feelings of those
whom they essay to win. It would present revela-
tion and its most earnest advocates in an aspect of
disinterestedness, impartiality, and frank fearless-
ness, calculated to steal upon the confidence of
many, who, mistaking its character, reject it. But
the plan, I think, would equally benefit the
Churches themselves. What scope it would aff'ord
for a wider development of the gift of utterance !
What an admirable nursery for Christian teachers !
What inducements to the study of divine things !

426 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

What stimulus to the tenderest and most benevo-
lent yearmngs of the heart! Such meetings, and
all that they imply, would constitute the best of
all theological seminaries, of which the entire
educational process would give skill in dealing
with the souls of men, would be connected with
each Church, and would be sustained without
expense. I would only just add, that after the
close of such meetings, a few minutes might be
appropriately spent in supplicating God's blessing
upon them. But I would leave it to the option
of each individual to depart or to remain, as he
might feel inclined. Where salutary impressions
have been produced, the opportunity might be
seized — where the heart is not disposed to prayer,
the hypocrisy of appearing to unite in it would
neither be encouraged nor promoted.

I mention the foregoing plan, rather as a specimen
of a desirable kind of agency for Christian pur-
poses, than as complete in itself. In a large
number of localities, the adoption of it might be
accomplished with no very formidable difficulty —
in many, of course, it would be quite inapplicable.
But although the details of it must be wisely
adapted to surrounding circumstances, the main
principle of it, I apprehend, may be most usefully
acted upon everywhere. That principle is — the
stated exhibition of the great truths of revelation
to the non-religious portion of the community, by

AND CONCLUSION. 427

earnest-minded belie vei's, in modes which will not
require rhetorical proficiency, such as the pulpit
is supposed to demand, and which will admit of the
freest interrogatories and expressions of opinion,
on the part of those whose understandings w^e
seek to inform, whose hearts we wish to reach.
By some such method, carried out with con-
scientious care, we may be gradually, and without
any sensible shock to existing machinery, laying
the foundation, and shaping the materials, for the
erection of a larger, a more efficient, and, as I
believe, a more scriptural apparatus of instruc-
tional ministration. A few years would serve to
dissipate the shyness of men otherwise competent
to urge upon their fellows the claims of the
" glorious gospel " — would bring out most of the
teaching talent now dormant, which almost every
Church may be assumed to possess — would do
much to train, to inform, and to strengthen it —
and would probably put within reach of each
Christian organization, all the active power, intel-
lectual, moral, and spiritual, which the scope of
its enterprise renders requisite ; thus making it, in
this respect, independent of supplies from beyond
its own pale. I can conceive of an enlightened
and godly minister under the present system,
cautiously, and with increasing usefulness to others,
and happiness to himself, paving the way for a
safe and almost insensible transition from monopoly

428 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

of ministerial office and functions, to a distribu-
tion of them amongst his church-members to an
extent hmited only by their proven qualifications. I
can imagine him accompanying, in the first instance,
the most likely and courageous, to those weekly
meetings for " disputing and persuading the things
concerning the kingdom of God" — encouraging
them by his presence, watching the development
of their powers, and aiding them when necessary
by his own knowledge. I can picture to myself
such a man showing these inexperienced warriors
for Christ how they may best arm themselves,
and how most successfully employ their weapons
— pointing out to them the fullest and readiest
sources of information, kindly correcting their
mistakes, and planning with them every contest
they wage with unbelief, indifference, and sin. I
can mark him, as time rolls on, and experience
is gained, occasionally devolving upon one and
another of them the conduct of some part of
those services which have hitherto been regarded
as exclusively pertaining to the ministry — altering,
now and then, the established routine of worship,
with a view to exercise their gifts, and to accustom
the Church to a greater variety of ministration.
I can fancy this entire process gone through so
leisurely, so carefully, so perseveringly, but still
with so little of the appearance of reckless inno-
vation, as to issue, in the course of a generation

AND CONCLUSION. 429

or so, ill an entire and radical change in our
system of Church agency, without imparting a
perceptible shock to present habits or associations.
To my mind, it appears that to be the instrument
of forwarding, perhaps of completing, in any
single instance, this interesting and most import-
ant change, whilst it would be certain of pro-
gressively enlarging the sphere of the Church's
usefulness, is a worthy object of any minister's am-
bition, infinitely more to be coveted than anything
yielded him by official exclusiveness. Now it is
by such steps only that I would attempt to realize
the final embodiment of the ideas I entertain on
the subject of the ministry. I do not conceal
from myself that there are difficulties to be over-
come, failures to be anticipated, dangers to be
met — but I am convinced that the aim is a prac-
ticable one, and that it may be attained without
displacing for a moment, until no longer needed,
such mechanism as we have.

In proportion as our several Churches find them-
selves able to substitute this kind of agency for
that in almost universal operation at the present
time, the amalgamation of separate " interests "
will become more and more feasible. On this
head, I fear, suggestions would be just now thrown
away. There appears to me no prospect whatever,
under the existing system, of realizing that unity
of action which common-sense as well as Chris-

430 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

tianity enjoins as necessary to the completest effi-
ciency of our Churches. All premature efforts to
bring it about are likely to result in farther
divisions. Desire for it must come first — and such
desire would probably grow up with any approxi-
mation of our Christian societies to the manner of
w^orking I have aimed to shadow forth. The need
for combining machinery will be more felt as
new elements of power are brought into play —
and when the nucleus of each organization ceases
to be of a personal character, and passes more and
more distinctly into the form of great spiritual
truths, the principal difficulties in the way of local
fusion will also disappear. I deem it discreet,
therefore, to leave this matter to time, and to
the improvement of the general system of the
Churches in promulgating Divine truth. But I see
no reason in the nature of things why all the
denominations who now mutually recognise each
other's Christian character, might not, without
waiting for uniformity of opinion as to those points
on which they diffi^r, constitute, in every locality,
the one Church of Christ for the neighbourhood.
It may be long before we come to this — but
towards this goal, I think, it behoves us all,
not merely to look, but practically to shape our
course.

To these suggestions touching the mode of exhi-
biting the forms of Divine truth, I add a few

AND CONCLUSION. 431

i-esiiecting the exemplification of its power and
heauty by the Churches. Their bearing towards
the world, as we have already seen, should be
in obvious harmony with the general object of
their mission — namely, righteousness and love,
both to God and man. To the direct promulgation
of the gospel, God's appointed instrument for the
regeneration of mankind, it is their duty, as it will
be highly conducive to their success, to add what-
ever will evince, in the most incontestable manner,
their own entire sympathy with the message they
have to deliver, and their deep interest in the
well-being of those to whom they are sent.
Hence, very much of what they do will be subsi-
diary only to their main design — intended, by
conciliating esteem, moving affection, and winning-
confidence, in things which ungodly men can
understand and appreciate, to entice them to a
heedful and reverent attention to those higher and
more spiritual things which, for the present, they
do not, and cannot. It is in reference to this part
of their mission that the British Churches strike
me as being especially deficient. Their action has
been, as I have already described it, too exclusively
theological. A little more systematic benevolence,
a little more practical regard to the earthly welfare
of man, a little more ingenuity and activity in
relation to his present wants and woes, a little
more sympathy with him when made the subject

432 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

of injustice and oppression, in one word, a little
more kindly philanthropy such as that exhibited
so conspicuously by their divine Master, would
have constituted a very pleasing and harmonious
back-ground to those features of revelation which it
is their aim to display to the conscience, and to
impress upon the heart. Far be it from me to
insinuate that they have wholly neglected their
obligation in this matter ! I know otherwise.
But it has not, in my judgment at least, had that
deliberate and careful attention which its import-
ance deserves and demands. The few further
observations I have to make, therefore, will relate
principally to this topic. I cannot, indeed, descend
far into details — but I hope, within a reasonable
compass, to indicate, with sufficient distinctness, the
class of duties, a more careful and earnest fulfil-
ment of which appears to me to be imperatively
called for.

It seems only natural that the remarks I have
to make on this head should have reference in the
first place to the Churches' treatment of their own
poor. In apostolic times this matter was evidently
deemed one of primary importance. The origin of
the diaconal office, the collection which Paul
carried up to the poor saints at Jerusalem, and
several directions left on record in his epistles,
prove that the early Christians cheerfully and
liberally recognised the obligation of ministering

AND CONCLUSION. 433

to the necessities of their destitute brethren. The
practice long survived the apostles, for we find
Tertullian, in his Apology for the gospel, referring
to it as an illustration of the piety and devotion of
its disciples in his day. " Whatever," says he,
" we have in the treasury of our Churches, is not
raised by taxation, as though we put men to
ransom their religion ; but every man once a
month, or when it pleases him, bestows what he
thinks good — and not without he chooses — for no
man is compelled, but left free to his own dis-
cretion. And that which is given is not bestowed
in vanity, but in relieving the poor — upon children
destitute of parents, upon the maintenance of aged
and feeble persons, upon men shipwrecked, or con-
demned to the metal mines, or banished into
islands, or cast into prison, professing the true
God and the Christian faith." The British
Churches, I am fully aware, are not wholly neg-
ligent of their duty in this respect. But I cannot
think that they usually discharge it in a liberal
spirit. I have known instances not a few, and
I have heard of many, in which broken-down
Christian brethren, the aged and the infirm, the
suffering victims of accident, the widows and
children of men who lived in the fear of God,
have been permitted by the spiritual society with
which they were connected, to rely mainly upon
the compassion of the Poor-law guardians, and

F F

434 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

sometimes to wear out their dreary days in the
Union Workhouse. The last, perhaps, is not a
frequent case — but, assuredly, those in which indi-
gent Church-members are left, with comparatively
trivial assistance, to fight the hard battle with
want, and cold, and nakedness, are not few. It is
my deep conviction that, in regard to this matter,
the spirit and customs of modern Churches present
a marked contrast to those prevailing in the
Churches of apostolic times. To maintain their
own poor, not in bare subsistence merely, but in
decent comfort — but especially the disabled by
age or casualty, ought to be accepted as a sacred
duty by every Christian Church. Idleness, of
course, is to be discouraged — self-reliance is to be
elicited and trained — but infirmity, misfortune,
sickness, bereavement, and the vicissitudes of the
labour-market, may deprive Christian people of all
present means of livelihood, and the Churches with
which they are associated ought, in all such
instances, systematically to exemplify the maxim
of the apostle — " If one member suffer, all the
members suffer with it." I cannot think that a
few shillings collected at the Lord's table, and
doled out in small sums as an occasional charity
to the very poo)\ is a generous interpretation of the
language I have quoted.

Doubtless, it is the truest benevolence to help
men to help themselves. Such benevolence, I

AND CONCLUSION. 435

think, our Churches might practise, at little cost,
and with the best results. Modern times have
brought out in strong relief the advantages of
association. Clubs, Friendly and Benefit Societies,
on various principles, and having all kinds of
objects, are scattered pretty plentifully over the
surface of society. They are sometimes constructed
upon a ruinous basis, often managed by dishonest
men, and very commonly connected with an ale-
house. Two or three men of Christian character
and of business habits, in each Church, might,
with a small sacrifice of time and labour, turn this
element of mutual assistance to useful account in
many ways. I take no credit to myself for the
suggestion. It is due to others who have adopted
it, and urged its general adoption by religious
organizations. I merely discharge a duty in
pointing to it, as one of the means whereby our
Churches may very usefully and very legitimately
increase their moral influence.

The spirit of these remarks, applicable, in the
first instance, and most emphatically, to misfortune,
indigence, and distress, in connexion with the
Churches themselves, will not be wholly beside the
mark in considering the duty of each Christian
organization to its own immediate neighbourhood.
That authority which instructs us to have special
regard in our benevolence to " the household of
faith," enjoins upon us also the obligation, " as we

F F 2

436 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

have opportunity, to do good unto all men." I
think a more methodical and painstaking observ-
ance of this injunction, than any which the British
Churches usually display, would operate powerfully
in aid of their spiritual mission. It seems to have
been, in a great measure, forgotten, that men have
bodies to be cared for, as well as souls to be saved,
and that they who evince no concern about the
former, are not likely to be confidingly listened to
in relation to the latter. I cannot help believing
that much more might be achieved by our Churches
in this respect, than anything which they noAV
attempt. If they are not sufficiently numerous, or
have not sufficient pecuniary means to carry
through plans of philanthropy for the advantage of
their own neighbourhood, they might, much oftener
than they do, originate and conduct them. I
venture to suggest the propriety of their ascer-
taining from actual inquiry the characteristic want
of the district in which they are located, and
doing their best to meet it. I have no pet project
to recommend. What might be suitable for one
vicinity, may be simply ridiculous for another.
This village may stand in need of something which
it would be preposterous to propose for that town
— this city may require very different remedial
measures from that hamlet. Here, water may be
needed — there, drainage ; here, improved dwel-
lings— there, baths and wash-houses ; here, edu-

AND CONCLUSION. 437

cation — there, books. A wise solicitude for man's
welfare, here and hereafter, which the Churches
profess to feel, might, in my judgment, do
worse than exercise itself in looking round
with an inquiring eye, marking the most copious
source of suifering within reach, devising some
expedient for its removal, and making energetic
efforts to secure and organize, and apply that
assistance which promises most effectually to
compass the object, All this kind of work, it
may be said, may be done, and yet leave men
spiritually just where they were. This is a mis-
take. They are not Avhere they were, any more
than Manchester is in relation to the metropolis
where it was prior to the construction of a railway
between them. Literally, it is true, Manchester
has not changed places — but really, instead of being
at a travelling distance of twenty hours from Lon-
don, it is brought within five. And literally, it
may be the fact that temporal advantages wrought
out for men by the activities of the religious world
would not produce the smallest actual approach of
their minds to the truth of the gospel — but really,
they render those minds much more accessible by
the gospel, much more susceptible to its healing
influences. A striking display of care for man's
interests is a sure method of gaining man's sym-
pathy. Why should not every Church be anxious
to exhibit this carel Why, if it is so, should it

438 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

not show such care where, when, and how, it will
be best understood and appreciated ] What orga-
nization of believers would not rejoice in the in-
crease of its moral influence which woidd accrue
from the possibility of men pointing to some bene-
ficial achievement, and saying, " This we owe to
the energy and agency of such and such a religious
society 1 " And if the Churches might legitimately
rejoice in the issue, why might they not as legiti-
mately find delight in employing the means to
secure it] More than five-sixths, probably, of the
happy proposals which are approved of by society,
are abortions, because no one steps forward to give
them practical efiect. If the British Churches
were on the watch for usefulness and influence,
might they not cherish and nurse such proposals
into strength enough to make their own way, and
fulfil their own ends ] Is it not on this principle
we act in our missions to the heathen and uncivi-
lized ■? Do our Churches and missionaries deem it
unsuitable, amongst such people, to instruct them
in the common arts and conveniences of life] — to
build houses, to till the soil, to prepare articles of
merchandise, to construct roads, and to do whatever
will tend to elevate them in the scale of humanity ?
Why not act upon the same principle at home ?
Why not proclaim the reign of peace, love, and
joy, in our deeds as well as in our words ] The
Churches would lose nothing of their spirituality in

AND CONCLUSION.

439

such increased attention to temporal affairs, so long
as their own motive and end were spiritual — and
they would gain an amazing accession to their
moral power — their ability to attract, to win, and
to reward, popular confidence.

From this consideration of the relationship of
Christian Churches to their respective neighbour-
hoods, and the duties arising out of it, we pass
on to make a suggestion or two touching their
conduct in affairs of a more public, and sometimes
political character. If, as separate spiritual organ-
izations, it would be inconvenient for them to
deliberate and act in reference to such matters,
yet, unquestionably, it devolves upon every member
of which each is composed, to make his religion
the quickening and governing principle of his
political movements. Christianity, I think, demands
of all who believe in it, that it shall be the
reigning influence in whatever they purpose or
undertake. This, I suppose, will be willingly
granted, and this is all I ask as the basis of the
following observations. Starting, then, from, gospel
principles, is it possible for any of us to feel our-
selves at liberty to put aside for disuse any influ-
ence at our command, whereby our fellow-man
may be materially profited^ Could we, if moved
by religious considerations, use that influence with-
out having taken care to satisfy ourselves that our
employment of it in this or that direction would

440 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

be, on the whole, for good? Would it be con-
sistent for us to identify ourselves with parties in
the State, whatever might be their names or their
shibboleths, whose main objects, or whose habitual
practice, should militate decidedly against those
things which the gospel is designed to promote "?
Well, then, if these questions can be answered by
the subjects of Christ in one way only — and I
can conceive of but one reply in unison with their
character and profession — I put it confidently to
any enlightened conscience, whether religious men
in this country have not been in the habit of con-
niving at, sanctioning, and actively abetting,
much which can only be fitly described as
" wickedness in high places." Let us look
around us ! We glanced, in our last chapter, at
the extreme squalor of one class of the poor, at
the excessive toil of another, and at the ignorance
of both. Can any Christian man, with a good
conscience towards God, and with a kindly feeling
towards others, lend his countenance to proceedings
which terribly aggravate, if they do not originate,
these mischiefs ? Why, what is the notorious his-
tory of every one of our public departments?
Extravagance, waste, peculation. In one way or
another, little short of one hundred millions sterling
are annually deducted from the reward of labour
in Great Britain for purposes of government, local,
civil, and ecclesiastical. To furnisli those millions,

AND CONCLUSIOX. 441

myriads of our fellow-countrymen are doomed to a
harder and more hapless lot than slaves — myriads
to wear out prematurely their staple of existence —
myriads to forego most of the blessings which
in any other part of the world God would have
given them as the reward of industry. These are
facts, be our politics of what shade they may —
notorious facts — facts with which Christian men
ought to be conversant, and, if they are not, are
inexcusable for their indolence. But is there any
necessity that such facts should continue to be ?
Can any individual, looking at Christianity as
his standard of judgment on the one hand, and,
on the other, at the manner in which our taxes
are raised and expended, come to the conclusion,
that this enormous burden is a necessary and
inevitable one ^ He must know to the contrary, or
he might if he would be at the pains to inquire.
Now I say most solemnly, that so long as religious
men in this country abet this system of wholesale
plunder — for it is nothing else — they have no
right to expect their Master's blessing on their
more direct efforts for the spiritual well-being of
the poor. Ignorance rendered more dense by
taxes on knowledge — squalor made more filthy
by taxes on soap — darkness increased where it is
most dreary by taxes on tallow — light and air ex-
cluded from ill-ventilated buildings by taxes on
windows — fields of employment narrowed or aban-

442 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

doned, wages of labour exposed to the depressing
influence of unnatural competition, every article
entering into the poor man's consumption enhanced
in price, social resources eaten up by rapidly in-
creasing pauperism, all in consequence of heavy
taxation of almost every kind — ought we, as dis-
ciples of a pure, a just, and a merciful faith, to
stand by in silence, when we are aware, or if we
are not, should be, that very much of all this evil
is perpetrated with a view to no good end
whatever — that a hierarchy and clergy may
receive large sums under pretences which they
do not fulfil — that our public offices may be
crowded with servants who receive payment for
the work which others do — that ambassadors
may revel in princely dissipation abroad — that
ships may be built merely to be broken up again —
stores manufactured and sent abroad merely to
rot — admu'als and other naval officers kept in pay
for duties which it is never required of them to
perform — and all possible waste, expenditure, and
malversation winked at, and even encouraged, that
the families of noblemen and gentlemen, excluded
by the aid of law from a share of the paternal
inheritance, may draw from the public purse a
dignified subsistence. Oh ! I do from my soul pity
that invalided and lack-a-daisical piety, which
cannot interfere to stop this growing iniquity, lest
it should exhaust itself, or interrupt its own enjoy-

AND CONCLUSION. 443

merits! But can any man, having in his heart
the slightest sympathy with the character and
government of God, imagine for a moment that
this spoliation of the ' poor, under cover of law, for
the enrichment of pride, idleness, and profligacy,
is not displeasing to the righteous Governor of
nations? Can such an one pretend to believe
that God would have his servants to remain
indifferent or inactive spectators of wrong-doing,
or that it can be otherwise than acceptable to him
to protest against its continuance ? Christians owe
to their country a much sterner duty than they
have yet performed. Dej)end upon it when He
into whose ear the cries of the down-trodden enter,
makes inquisition for blood, the empty and frivo-
lous pretexts which serve many a flaming professor
now, will little avail him then. Our worship of
rank, our affectation of respectability, our puerile
concern to avoid the sneers of the great, our
indolence which will not investigate, our charity
which deliberately turns away its eyes, our sancti-
moniousness which never touches politics, will
minister but poor consolation when the con-
sequences of our neglect of duty come to stare us
in the face. What, then, would I have ? I answer,
the gospel of peace and love, as the keystone of
our political faith and action — nothing more,
nothing less. The use of all the facilities and
influence which Providence has put witliin our

444 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

reach, to shield the weak from the oppression of
the strong. Diligent inquiry as to facts, sympathy
with revelation as to principles, and calm but
unflinching fidelity in applying the last as they
really bear upon the first. Had embodied Chris-
tianity but done its duty from the first, the present
state of things could not have been — would it do
its duty now, the present state of things could not
continue. And not until it has addressed itself
manfully to this portion of its legitimate work,
will it acquire its full measure of moral influence
in our land, or remove from the path of its glorious
enterprise, the most formidable, social, and political
obstacles to its success.

But there are other obstacles to spiritual enter-
prise in this country, rooted in political causes,
besides those social evils at which we have just
glanced, with which it becomes Christian men of
all denominations to deal more resolutely and
directly than they have yet done. I have de-
scribed our Church Establishments as fatally potent
in retarding the spiritual reign of Christ in the
British realms. I cannot, of course, expect that
those disciples of our common Lord who believe
the interests of his kingdom to be identified with
a continued resort to compulsory arrangement,
should labour to destroy the embodiment of their
own idea of what is right and necessary. I can
only urge upon such, by their trust in the gospel.

AND CONCLUSION. 445

and their care for immortal souls, a candid,
searching, and prayerful examination of the
ground they occupy, and a solemn adjudication of
the question, as in the sight of God, after impar-
tial and earnest attention given to all that can be
said on both sides. But there is a far larger class
of religious men, who hold all the views on the
subject to which I have given utterance, and who
look upon the connexion of Church and State as
bad in principle and pernicious in its results. To
this large body of Christ's disciples, I submit
whether they might not exemplify more wisely and
more strikingly than they have generally done,
a practical fidelity to their own convictions. Are
they so superficially imbued with the truths and
spirit of divine revelation as to imagine that moral
infiuence may best be gained or preserved by
studied silence in the presence of a great wrong '?
There stands, front to front with the Churches
of their Lord, a political institution assuming to
be Christian, and, under cover of that assumption,
and by means of immense worldly influence, im-
peding, to a terrible extent, the work which it
professes to perform. And what, for the most
part, has been the conduct of our most conspicuous
members of Churches, in the ministry and out of
it, in reference to the power which presents itself
to them in this light? I will not judge their
motives, which are chiefly matter of concern to

44:6 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

themselves, and which the eye of the heart-
searching God only can fully discern. But I
will portray their policy in colours furnished
by its moral effects upon the minds of the in-
different. Well, then, it is a policy which those
who most profit by, and those who abet, this
intrusive meddling of the State with the manage-
ment of spiritual things, highly approve, and
fervently applaud — it is a pohcy which wins the
smiles of cabinet ministers, bishops, High-Church
legislators, well-endowed clergymen, and almost
the entire portion of society aspiring to be regarded
as part and parcel of aristocracy — it is a pohcy
which puts no insuperable bar in the way of our
young people aiming to secure for themselves
genteel connexions — it is a policy which, where
there are any pretensions to wealth, admits of
the rising generation being brought up to
the Church, or married into it — -it is a policy
which frightens away no close-carriage customers
— it is a policy which evinces a marvellously
peaceful spirit in respect to impiety and
iniquity "in high places," and which reserves its
intolerance for those only who denounce, and seek
to overturn that iniquity — it is a policy which
strong-minded and well-informed men of the world
believe to be a mixture of insincerity and cant,
because they observe that it is not acted upon
in relation to any other, any less trying obligation

AND CONCLUSION. 447

of spiritual profession — it is a policy to which, in
almost every other respect, life, temper, and action
give the lie, placing it among the singular and
unaccountable episodes of Christian behaviour —
it is a policy which has brought down a general
suspicion upon the transparent honesty of the
Churches, which suspicion is far too plausible to
admit of being easily rebutted — it is a policy which
leaves Christianity still under a cloud of misrepre-
sentations, and which can plead no reason in support
of itself, satisfactory either to common-sense, ex-
perience, or the genius of the gospel — and, finally,
it is a policy which with a very sinister worldly look
about it, and a most equivocal account of its own
origin and purpose, actually prolongs the existence
of an arrangement fatal to human souls, obstructive
of spiritual effort, and dishonouring and insulting
to Jesus Christ, the Head of the Church. For
aught we know, such a policy as this may, by
some process or other, as yet unintelligible by us,
be reconciled with the most intelligent, the most
courageous, the most self-denying, the most
elevated piety which our times can furnish —
but, until it is made to appear so, too plainly
to admit of mistake, we think the Churches would
best consult their moral influence by setting about
the removal of the impediment in a somewhat
more straightforward manner. So far as it is
strengthened by ignorance, it appears to me that

448 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

the most obvious plan of loosening its hold upon
society, is by the energetic diffusion of knowledge
on the subject. So far as it is favoured by apathy,
one would imagine that earnestness of effort is
called for. So far as it is upheld by political influ-
ence, might not political influence be excited and
organized, and brought to bear upon if? Every-
body knows that these are the methods by which,
at some time or other, the evil must be assailed
before it can be got rid of No one really believes
that the Churches must slide into a lower tone of
worldliness before they will be qualified to accom-
plish the desirable change. What, then, will ex-
plain the determined inaction of our prominent re-
ligious professors in relation to the work which
invites and deserves their strenuous effort ] T will
not presume to say. But thus much I am bold to
affirm — that their conduct in this matter, however
ingeniously justified to their own thoughts, has
not raised the world's opinion of their sincerity,
has not tended to increase their moral power, has
not illustrated the truths they are anxious to
promulgate, has not won for Christianity a higher
position in public confidence, has not rebuked
presumption, nor prompted serious inquiry, nor
paved the way for future triumphs — and I add,
that as it has not achieved any of these results, so
neither will it, nor ought it, achieve them in future.
If we are to succeed in advancing the kingdom of

AND CONCLUSION. 44J)

Christ within these reahns more rapidly than we
have done, we must brace up our spiritual prin-
ciples to greater virility of purpose — for until we
have ourselves learned to show more respect to the
truths we embrace, we have no right to wonder
that we cannot obtain for them the respect of other
men. They do but take us upon our own showing
— and whilst we care not to denounce evil, they
care not to perpetrate it.

The last practical suggestion which it occurs
to me to offer, relates to the use of the public
press for religious purposes. I speak not now of
books devoted expressly to the elucidation of
spiritual topics, or to the excitement and proper
exercise of religious emotions. Of these there is
no special lack. But useful as these are in their
own sphere, they cannot be said to meet the most
urgent wants of the age. Cheap printing and
rapid intercommunication have effected a great
revolution in the reading habits of the people, and
the newspaper and periodical wield a far more
potent influence upon the public mind than works
of higher pretensions. I inquire not now whether
this change is to be welcomed or regretted. It is
an accomplished fact — and Christian wisdom,
accepting it as such, should strive to turn it to the
highest account. Hitherto, it must be confessed,
this untiring, gigantic, all but irresistible engine,
has been left pretty exclusively to the world's

G G

450 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

management, and most disastrous have been the
consequences. I verily believe that nothing has
exerted more power, in this country, to crush all
the holier virtues out of our Churches than our
newspaper press, metropolitan and provincial.
For let the mode of its operation be considered.
It seldom, or never, comes before us as an avowed
foe offering battle to the Christianity of our land,
but it is ever at our elbow, like Mephistopheles, as
a friend, a guide, a counsellor. Were it to blas-
pheme, we should spurn it from us — were it to
assail our faith, we should repel it with indignation
— but it does neither — it does worse. It takes as
the topics of its discourse, all the events of the
day, of whatever character. It dresses up the
narration of them in the most piquant style. It
intersperses with statements of fact its own reflec-
tions. It puts its own character and purpose into
apt phrases, which pass unchallenged into the
mind, and deposit poison there. It talks, often
too, in a fascinating strain, on matters which seem
to offer themselves most incidentally, reasons in
logical fashion, soars into eloquence, sparkles with
wit, comes close home to the feelings, and
gradually establishes itself in the confidence.
Occasionally it delivers itself of a religious effusion,
and very seldom, indeed, makes any allusion to
divine revelation without displaying tokens of
reverence. In this insidious and unsuspected

AND CONCLUSION. 451

manner it attends you day by day, infusing into
your mind, quite imperceptibly, its own spirit.
And that spirit, for the most part, I hesitate not to
say, is execrable. The epithet is a strong one, but
facts warrant it. I select the Times journal as
an illustration, and, although all others fall below
it in power, many others resemble it in its utter
want of virtuous principle. Now, I ask any re-
ligious man to watch the influence of that organ
upon his own mind, and I venture to predict that
its tendency will be felt to be much as I am about
to describe. He will be tempted to look at all
the great realities of life as matters which it is
lawful to play with as convenience may dictate.
Whatever veneration for truth he may entertain,
will gradually become less sensitive, and he will
come to consider lying, as theft was regarded by
the Spartans, to be infamous only when done in
a bungling style. He will perceive in himself a
disposition to sneer at all the sterner exemplifica-
tions of virtue, to accept calumny as naturally due
to heroism, to make light of moral principles when
they stand in the way of party objects, to disbelieve
in human magnanimity, to make grimaces at all
the grander passages of a people's history, to smile
most obsequiously upon what the gospel condemns,
and jest most mockingly at what the gospel
enforces. In short, if he were to yield himself up to
the full effect of the deleterious atmosphere w^th

G G 2

452 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

which that journal would surround him, he would
sink into a talker upon all conceivable subjects,
without faith, without heart, without conscience,
without a single object before him, or guiding
principle within him, to make his talent subservient
to man's elevation. Now, what must the effect
of this be on unreflecting and irreligious minds,
more especially when it is very commonly re-
flected, though but dimly, by the lesser organs
of opinion? For my own part, I often wonder
that it has not been more pernicious than it seems
to have been. I attribute it to the distinguishing
mercy of God, and to the resisting power of vital
Christianity, even in its feebleness, that journalism
here has not brought our people down to the
degraded level of the people in France, amongst
whom public virtue is believed to be an un-
realizable fiction, and public crime nothing worse
than a blunder — and that all trust in the true and
the good, the disinterested and the holy, the
moral and the divine, has not been washed away
by the incessant streams of selfish, sordid, sceptical,
but genteel utilitarianism, which are propelled by
our newspaper press through the public mind.
It gives us good hope for the future, if the
omissions of the past be but presently rectified.

As it would be utterly impossible to get rid of
this mode of approaching and influencing the minds
of our fellow-countrymen, and even, if possible,

AND CONCLUSION. 453

might, perhaps, be far from wise, it is worth
serious consideration, whether it might not be
made to do service to Christianity, as efficiently
at least as it now does service to a much less
beneficial power. It is not by such means that
I would counsel the direct promulgation of the
truths of the gospel, but I see not why we may
not thus aim to breathe around us the spirit of
the gospel. I can imagine no more useful enter-
prise in our day, than the establishment of a daily
newspaper upon the broad principles of Chris-
tianity— in which all topics might be dealt with,
as the friends of righteousness, truth, peace, love,
and, in one word, God, would wish them to be dealt
with. Facts worth noting honestly narrated —
principles worth holding faithfully adhered to
— public objects worth seeking steadily pursued —
surely an organ proposing this high aim to itself,
employing high talent, permeated by a religious
spirit, and conducted by business capacities, ought
not to be looked upon as a dream never to be
realized, or as a project devoid of all chance of
success. Wealth might do many more foolish
things, but could hardly do one which would
more promote the moral influence of embodied
Christianity, than start a daily journal of such a
character — and I venture to predict that if, in
point of all that should characterise it as a news-
paper it were put upon an equality with the best,

454 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

it would speedily shame its rivals into the recog-
nition of a purer code of morality, and become the
centre of a much healthier tone of public spirit.
I feel convinced that the advantages to the cause
of the gospel in this country, likely to be secured
by this means, would transcend all present calcu-
lation. It would act upon society as a change of
wind, or of season, which, although it neither
confers upon men new powers of vision, nor lessens
in any way the distance of neighbouring objects,
clears up the atmosphere, the murkiness of which
had previously concealed from view whatever was
not immediately at hand, as effectually as if the
organ of sight were paralyzed, or the vicinity
beyond a few paces of it were an entire blank.
I commend this suggestion to the consideration
of the affluent members of our Churches. It is
certainly practicable — it would, unquestionably, be
useful — and I cannot but think that, managed with
care and skill, it Avould prove successful.

But effort in this direction ought not to stop
here. In every county, the professedly religious
portion of the community constitutes a power
which might be brought to bear most beneficially
on the character and conduct of the provincial
press. It is so in some instances, and the results
are most gratif^dng. It might be almost every-
where, if the importance of working the press
for Christian ends were duly appreciated. But

AND CONCLUSION. 455

we have been too much in the habit of thinking
that when we have erected a pulpit, we have
clone all, or nearly all, for the neighbourhood
which the gospel requires. We might have
learned from the history of the Jesuits how much
may be eifected, and that, too, legitimately, by a
systematic employment of more indirect means.
Some of that sagacity, and much of that zeal,
which they have uniformly exhibited on behalf of
the Papacy and their own order, might be very
useful on behalf of Christianity. There is no good
reason why the real disciples of Jesus should
not watch w^ith care all the methods by which
"the children of this world" sway the minds of
others, and adopt, for the gospel's sake, such of
them as the purity of divine truth will sanction.

I have already hinted at the desirableness of
creating and organizing a system for the supply of
cheap and wholesome reading for the poor, or, as
the phrase now is, " for the millions." I believe
it practicable, by furnishing a class of superior
publications, to drive most of the trash which
now circulates in the lower hemisphere of British
society, out of the market — and, I am sure, it
ought to be attempted. Private enterprise is
already busy in this way. But there still remains
an urgent demand for more combined and
methodical effort. May that demand be fully
recognised, and triumphantly met !

456 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS

The practical suggestions which I have sub-
mitted to the judgment of my readers, and which
I have enforced by such reasons as have weight in
my own mind, will not be fairly appreciated, but
as my object in making them is kept steadily in
view. If regarded as constituting a detailed plan
of Church agency in these times, they will, no
doubt, be set down, as they justly may, as meagre
and insufficient. I have offered them, however,
with no such purpose. My sole intention has
been to give a general outline of the shape which
Christian character and effort should, in my
opinion, take, in order to large and rapid triumphs.
These suggestions are simply the marks by which
I mean to indicate the true figure of well-developed
Christianity. Having its source in an intelligent
and hearty sympathy with the character and will
of God as shadowed forth in his Son, and moved
by that sympathy to labour for the extension of
Christ's kingdom amongst men, healthy religion,
I think, will prompt the laying aside, as soon as
may be, of all machinery now employed for that
purpose which, originally contrived in a spirit of
distaste for the simplicity of the gospel, is found
to limit individual energy, to encourage supersti-
tious feelings, or to hinder, by its cumbersome
formalities, the easy diffusion of revealed truth
amongst all classes ; it will persuade to the readiest
adoption of those methods of procedure by which

AND CONCLUSION. 457

the moral purport of the truths it has to proclaim
may be practically illustrated, and commended to
the goodwill of a thoughtless and unbelieving
world ; it will urge the removal, if possible, by all
legitimate means, of those causes which are found
to obstruct its progress — and it will avail itself, for
its own glorious ends, of every kind of instrumen-
tality, not inconsistent with its own nature, proved
by experience to be efficient in swaying the
thoughts, sentiments, and will of mankind. Of
the general principles thus stated — principles which,
I imagine, will be denied by none — I have given
such examples as seemed to me well adapted to ex-
hibit their practical bearing. In this light I am
anxious that they should be considered, for it is
to this end they are brought under the notice of
the reader.

My task is now accomplished. As a free-will
offering, I place it at the feet of the British
Churches, intending thereby to express my love
and duty to their Lord and mine. Wherein I
may be found to have erred, may He who alone
can read my motives, forgive ! So far as I
have truly represented his mind, may he vouch-
safe to bless the effort. Beyond this I am not
anxious. I have discharged what presented itself
to my conscience and heart as a sacred obligation.
How my having done so may affect me, I am but
little solicitous — what fruit it may hereafter bear

458 REMEDIAL SUGGESTIONS.

in the Churches, excites in my mind a far Uveher
concern. Conscious that the purest intentions may
fall into mistakes, but sufficiently convinced of all
that I have advanced to free me from any present
misgivings, I cheerfully bespeak for the foregoing
thoughts such attention as they may deserve, aud
humbly supplicate of the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, that he will quicken v^hatever
of truth they may contain in the hearts of all
who rejoice in him as their God.

Jttinll avm Cocfesi^ato, 1^ori5c=al^oc=court, 'i:utigatc=J)in.

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