Characteristics of the age : a charge to the clergy of the Diocese of California, at the opening of the Twenty-sixth annual Convention in Trinity Church, San Francisco, May 3rd, 1876

583T

c t • >"* 'i
i?.llGr. Inn

A CHARGE

by the

Bishop of California
1876.

Characteristics of the Age :

A Chai\ge

To THE Clergy of the Diocese of California,

AT THE

Opening of the Twentv-Sixth Annual Convention
IN Trinity Church, San Francisco,
May 3D, 1876.

BY

The Right Rev. WM. INGRAM AM KIP, D.D., LL.D,

BISHOP OF CALIFORNIA.

SAN FRANCISCO:

OxJBERY & Company, Steam Book and Genpral Job Printers,

No. Hi Market Street, bolo\T Sansome.

1876.

Charge.

I

as

CO

My Brethren of the Clergy:

The spirit and direction of the age are ever altering,
and our reHsion takes the hue and color of the intellec-
tual spirit of the times. As, therefore, years flow on and
the world changes, the impress of that change is stamped
even upon the religious character of those who bear the
Christian name. Thus every passing century brings with
it some new form of error to be combated — some new
^assailant of our faith, whose attack must be met; and
^ none can live well the Christian life without thoughtfully
^looking out on the world around and reading the "signs
iof the times," to see what influences are acting on the
^ spirit of our faith.

" And especially is this the duty of those who are called
to be leaders in " the sacramental host of God's elect."
They are to guide the struggling multitudes who are wan-
dering in the wilderness — to point out the way over the
Desert — and to warn against dangers which would cut
them off from the Promised Land. And as the struggle
goes on and darkness seems to gather about, from those
who crowd the thoroughfares of life comes often the inqui-
ry : " Watchman, what of the night ? "

It is one which, as ministers of Christ, we should be
prepared to answer. We should be able, from the devel-
opment of the times in which we live, to gather the wis-
dom by which we may direct others in their warfare. The

293307

4

subject, then, which I would bring before you is — the

CHARACTERISTICS OF THIS PRESENT AGE.

We might, in considering this subject, look at the cen-
turies which have gone, and see how this principle was
prominent since man first came forth from Eden, ever
changing its direction, yet ever exerting its influence.
For instance, in the ante - diluvian times, when life was
counted by centuries, worldliness was the prevailing diffi-
culty. Men gave themselves up to pleasure and sensual-
ity. Then came the days of the patriarchs, when idol-
atry was the besetting sin. Surrounded by heathen na-
tions, they were tempted to yield to the old Chaldean
superstition and worship " the moon, walking in bright-
ness," and the stars, night after night holding on their way
amid the unclouded glory of that Eastern sky. A few
centuries later, and, under the Jewish dispensation, the dif-
ficulty v^2JS> formality, as, resting in a mere round of out-
ward services, the Israelite forgot that these were but
types and shadows, intended to prepare him for brighter
and loftier revelations. With the dawning of the Gospel
came a new order of things, as the old landmarks were
swept away. In "the great trial of affliction" which befell
the infant Church the members of the new faith were
tempted to lose sight of earth, forgetting that here also they
had appropriate duties to perform. With the triumph
of Christianity the danger arose from a different quarter.
The Church attempted to adopt the varied ceremonies of
the idolatry it had vanquished, and through the Middle
Ages superstition paralyzed its strength. But, since the
Reformation the evil has been exactly the opposite. A
questioning intellecttial religion, which chills devotion, has
replaced that abounding faith which "believeth all things."

But time forbids that I should enter more fully into
this historical review. I allude to it only to show that the
human mind is prone to extremes, and external circum-
stances of course determine the direction it shall take.

I

But you perceive how this truth comes to us through the
mists of time. The Christian, indeed, cannot sever him-
self from the past ; for thence, in solemn strains from its
far-distant ages, float down to him the noblest lessons he
can learn. In the things which have been he reads his
prophecies of the things which shall be.

" And as King Saul
Called up the buried prophet from his grave
To speak his doom, so may the Christian now
Call up the dead past from its awful grave
To tell him of our future."

Let us look, then, at some of the characteristics of our
own age, particularly as they most concern those whose
appointed duty it is to act upon the minds and souls of
men.

The first I would mention is the teiidency to mistake
mere civilization of mind for religio7t. Our faith has
silently produced an entire revolution in the state of feel.
ing which pervades society. In the ages in which it first
appeared even the ordinary amusements and the inter-
course of daily life were characterized by what, in this day,
we should call a revolting barbarism. The Christians
became, therefore, at once a marked and separate people.
They alone would not frequent the amphitheatre, to join
in its ferocious sports, and they alone could derive no
pleasure from the gladiator's show, where man died in
agony by the hand of his fellow-man —

" Butchered to make a Roman holiday."

As Christianity advanced, this refining and humanizing
influence extended until it pervaded the masses of men,
sweeping away this barbarous spirit, and now whole com-
munities enjoy the benefits it has spread around, without
even thinking of the source from which they proceed.
The exterior surface and polish which society at this pres-
ent day exhibits is much in accordance with what the Gos-
pel would produce ; but the difference is, that instead of

being the result of the direct personal influence of religion,
it proceeds only from education.

The reason now is cultivated, the taste formed, and
refinement and grace are spread over the face of society.
In our ordinary intercourse a delicacy has been introduced
which contributes to social order and domestic comfort,
and prevents any exhibition of violence or passion. Our
relative duties, therefore, are carefully performed, and open
vice is stigmatized as unseemly and out of taste. Profli-
gacy is discountenanced, and all actions violently at war
with our sense of propriety are esteemed a disgrace. This
is the external view which society presents at the present
time.

Now, how many thousands can you see about you,
living under this state of things, who, in consequence,
consider themselves Christians ! They believe that their
general tastes and habits are those which are prescribed
by our faith, and with this they are satisfied. They are
kind, perhaps, and charitable, from natural disposition, or
because, the world pronounces these traits to be reputable.
And if, in addition to this, they engraft religion formally
on their system, it also partakes of the worldliness in which
they live. They only adopt from it whatever commends
itself to them as being refined in sentiment and in accord-
ance with their own views. They desire to have their
feelings alternately aroused and soothed by the scenes
which it arrays before them. They therefore call them-
selves by that holy name which first the disciples assumed
at Antioch, and as far as our faith agrees with the tone
of the society in which they live, they yield to it an outward
obedience.

Yet what is all this but a mere counterfeit of the truth,
dressed out to imitate it by the enemy of man, that he may
deceive many? He comes as an angel of light,'presenting
a system built on worldly principles, yet pretending to be
the Gospel. The peculiarities of former generations have

passed away, a new order of things has taken their place,
and this is claimed to be an exhibition of Christian char-
acter. And is not this the only faith to which many in
the world about us can lay claim — a faith which has no
true fear of God — no fervent zeal for His honor — no jeal-
ous adherence to doctrinal truth — no self-denial for Christ's
sake ? And would the whole tenor of their lives be any
different if the Gospel should now be proved to be a fable ?
What is this, then, but mere civilization of mind — an effect
which the high polish of society might produce on any
individual who had never heard of the Gospel ? It is a
beautiful development of character, but one which might
take place under heathen influences. There is nothing
about it distinctly Christian.

" They cherish every grace
Except the cross — except the strenuous race."

Again : another characteristic of the age is an i)idiffey-
ence to the value of religious truth — a false liberality, which
induces men to tolerate error, when it should be shunned
and denounced — a charity which degenerates into weak-
ness.

This is a fault peculiar to our age, and which has had
its growth in the last two centuries. It was not so in the
early Church, for then the rule was : " Prove all things ;
hold fast that which is good." It was not so in the ages
which succeeded, for then the Church, fallen as it may
have been from the purity of the faith, was still zealous to
defend the truth, or what it believed to be the truth.
Neither was it so in the times which immediately followed
the Reformation. Then the great contests and disputes
which had taken place impressed on the world the fact
that the truth was something to be sought after ; and,
when found, they were willing to cleave to it with full
purpose of heart, even at the cost of life itself.

But, since then, days of peace and quiet have come
upon us. We forget how much those who have gone be-

8

fore us suffered because they would not subscribe to error,
and we learn to prize but little those principles of eternal
and immutable truth to which they were faithful, even
unto death. We look with a mild and lenient eye upon
those who have perverted it, until we ourselves begin to
undervalue its possession ; and thus our Lord may well
complain of us as being deficient in the jealous custody of
that word which He revealed. He may say of us, as of
the Jews in Jeremiah's day : " They are not valiant for
the truth upon the earth." *

Now, brethren, the truth is but one. It cannot have
two forms or two appearances ; and, of all truths, the most
precious are those which relate to our religion. Does it
become us, then, on such solemn and momentous subjects,
to join in with the false liberality or the misnamed char-
ity of the day, and assert that an individual's sentiments
on these topics are matters of secondary importance, or
that " no man is responsible for his belief? "

We often do this, not from worldliness or cowardice,
but from personal attachment to the individuals, from a
desire not to disturb the feelings of others, or because we
look upon their errors only as speculative opinions, of
whose dangerous tendency we are ignorant. Thus we
hear one scoffing at the punishment of the lost, and pro-
claiming that all shall alike be admitted into Heaven, and
we feel no horror at his rejection of the plain truths of rev-
elation. We listen to another while he denies the Divin-
ity of our Lord, and thus strikes a death-blow to the whole
Christian scheme, and we shrink not back from a heresy
the mere announcement of which would have aroused the
indignation of those apostles, to whom their Master's mem-
ory and love were precious.

But such lenity is very far from being that which
Scripture inculcates on this subject. St. Paul, after enu-

* Jer. ix. 3.

merating the long catalogue of heretics who should arise
in "the last days," adds, " From such turn away."* And
St. John is still more explicit. After speaking of those
who " abide in the doctrine of Christ," he says, " If there
come any unto you and bring not this doctrine " — what
were they to do ? Give him the right hand of fellowship .?
Close their eyes to his heresy for charity's sake ? No.
The apostle says : " Receive him not into your house,
neither bid him God-speed ; for he that biddeth him God-
speed is a partaker in his evil deeds." t

And I would speak particularly of this apostle, because
those who are remiss in the faith ever represent him as
being filled with the love of all men, and pretend to shel-
ter themselves beneath his example. It is true that this
was one part of his character, but yet, you perceive, there
was another light in which we may see him exhibited.
The warmth of his charity never interfered with his love
for the souls about him or his zeal for the truth of God,
He loved men, but he "loved them in the truth," and "for
the truth's sake which dwelleth in them." t Yet he could
denounce those who denied the faith or turned away from
the teaching of that Church which his Lord had made
" the pillar and ground of the truth." § While, therefore,
our associations with the beloved apostle are those of char-
ity and love — while we remember that his single exhorta-
tion to the Church at Ephesus was, " Little children, love
one another! " — let us not forget that he it is who bids us
hold no fellowship with those who reject the truth. |!

But is not this a very different spirit from that which
prevails in our day and generation ? Yes ; we have with
us an unmeaning benevolence, which we misname Chris-
tian love. The Church needs a holy zeal — a sternness for

* 2 Tim. iii. 5.

t 2 John, ver. 10.

t 2 John, ver. 2.

^ 1 Tim. iii. 15.

!| See Newin.Tn's Sermon on "Tolerance of Religious Error."

lO

the right — a determination, at all hazards, to maintain the
truth. Never, indeed, will purity of faith be valued until
we shrink not from proclaiming, openly and boldly, our cen-
sure of religious error, whatever may be its nature. Never
will the Church regain its power until its followers, " quit-
ting themselves like men,"* adopt a stricter discipline —
look less leniently on the faults of those who have departed
from it — and show that their love is united with firmness,
strictness, and boldness. Then, at length, will men begin
to feel that there is some value in the truth.

Again : We turn to another development of the times.
This is an age of irreverence. In " our fathers' days, and
in the old time before them," society was characterized by
a reverential spirit. There was then something to be
looked up to, while the present generation, in its pride of
self-sufficiency, seems to regard nothing.

For instance ; old age was once held in reverence. Men
recognized the fact that the dignity of age surpasseth all
other dignities. They felt that one who had lived many
years had a long experience on which to look back, and
was also drawing near to the solemnities of the coming
world. The small space which separated him from those
fearful secrets which the living desire to read, yet shrink
from knowing, invested him with a dignity which in earlier
life he had never possessed. So it has been through all
ages, and men everywhere united in acknowledging that
" the hoary head is a crown of glory."

But how little of this spirit do we now see ! As the
young rush into busy life they will not listen to the voice
of those to whom "length of days is understanding." t In
their hot and hasty pursuit the aged are elbowed from
their path. They are rather regarded as cumberers of the
ground, and their warnings received with mocking laugh-
ter, as the words of those who are far behind the spirit of

* I Cor. xvi. 13.
t Job, xii. 12.

1 1

the age. Even the exhibitions of outward deference which
characterized former generations are gone, and in the
struggle for this world's prizes none pause to obey the
injunction of Scripture: "Thou shalt rise up before the
hoary head and honor the face of the old man." * We
have indeed upon us the curse which was denounced
against ancient Judah, that " The child shall behave him-
self proudly against the ancient."!

And so it is in matters of much higher moment. There
is a decay in the spirit of reverence with which all sacred
things are regarded. The leveling political spirit which
is abroad in the world has extended its influence to the
Church. Its sacred offices are looked upon by men as
they would upon any kind of secular business, and " they
which minister about holy things " are treated as if they
were merely appointed for the intellectual gratification of
their hearers, or, far worse, as " hirelings who are to ac-
complish their day." t There is a total forgetfulness of
the authority of their office — that they are God's ambas-
sadors to stand between Him and His rebellious subjects —
that they are (to use the words of the apostle) "in Christ's
stead." § The command of St. Paul is disregarded, to " Es-
teem them very highly in love for their work's sake." || The
flock remember not that these are their shepherds appointed
by God, nor do they carry out the description of our Lord:
"The sheep hear his voice; * * he goeth before them,
and the sheep follow him; for they know his voice." ^
Thus it 'is that the interests of religion suffer, because
they who profess to bow to its precepts in their worldliness
drag down the authority and degrade the dignity of those
who are its appointed teachers.

* Lev. xix. 32.
t Isaiah, iii. 5.
X Job, xiv. 6.
^ 2 Cor. V. 20.
\\ I Thes. V. 13.
•[ Johr, X. 3, 4.

12

And — to go one step farther — look at the manner in
which the most hallowed mysteries of our faith are treated.
Themes which, ages ago, would have been spoken of only
with awe, are now flung from lip to lip and debated with a
recklessness which strips them of all appearance of sanc-
tity. The sacred subjects of Holy Writ and its inspired
words are used to point a jest, until there are remaining
no solemn associations with language which prophets and
apostles used of old, when they were " moved by the Holy
Ghost."

Is not this, brethren, a sorrowful but true picture of one
phase of the times ? Have we gained as much by the
*' progress of the world" as in our pride we are accustomed
to believe ? While we have freed ourselves from many of
the errors of the Middle Ages, have we not lost also many
of their virtues? It is doubtful, to say the least, whether
an age of superstition is not preferable to one of irrever-
ence.

The next " sign of the times " to which we would refer
is the natural development of those we have already men-
tioned. This is an age of increasing infidelity. When
truth ceases to be valued, and a reverence for all holy
things is passing away, what can we expect but that skep-
ticism should abound? Unbelief in this day is assuming
a new form. A century ago it was confined to the thinking
and the intellectual. In the quiet of their studies men rea-
soned on the great verities of our faith, but it was for them-
selves and the narrow circle which was like-minded with
them. And if Hume, and Herbert, and Bolingbroke sent
forth their views through the Press, it was to the same
audience that they appealed. The mighty masses of men
were unaffected. They had inherited the truths of our
faith, and with little, perhaps, in this world to cast a sun-
shine on their path, they clung more closely to the prom-
ises of another life, and looked forward with earnest long-

13

ins: to their entrance on that state where " the weary are
at rest."

But now, infidelity is no longer confined to the study
or the seat of science. Education has elevated the masses,
and, for good or evil, prepared them to hold communion
with the loftiest minds in the world of thought. The chil-
dren on the benches of the school, or the artisan at his
toil, are able to " read, mark, and inwardly digest " subjects
which were far beyond the wisdom of their forefathers.

There has been created, too, what we call " the reading
public," and a mighty audience has been formed, of which,
centuries ago, scholars knew nothing. The Press scatters
everything broadcast over the earth, and who can say that
its teachings, in most cases, do anything but mislead the
intellect and debase the heart ?

Thus it is that the ignorant and the half-learned are
puffed up by the pride of self-knowledge, and in the shal-
lowness of their wisdom are induced to abandon the truths
in which their fathers trusted.

And how often is this the case now, even with the
thoughtful and the cultivated ! It is esteemed a proof of
intellectual freedom to disown the facts of revelation and
to regard the teachings of Scripture as "cunningly-devised
fables," which the world has outgrown. And then, too,
there is a spirit of skeptical philosophy abroad which
induces men to accept anything sooner than the Gospel.
No theory can be too wild to enlist followers or too im-
probable to gather converts. And now, in these " latter
days," when time in its solemn march is each year bring-
ing forth new proofs of the historical facts of our faith —
when the hieroglyphics of Egypt and the tablets of Nine-
veh are contributing their arguments to confirm all that
the prophets and sacred penmen have written — "a genera-
tion wise in their own eyes " can turn from them, to yield
their belief to the original " developments" of Darwin or
the glaring impostures of spiritualism.

14

Yet so it is, brethren, around us. We hear it on every
side. Our feelings are shocked by the bold blasphemies
which are announced before the world, and the degraded
morality which would well have become the Cities of the
Plain on the day that the storm of God's wrath burst upon
them. We recognize the results of this infidelity in the
recklessness with which men turn away from the temple
of God, or, should they enter, in the chilling apathy with
which they listen to truths before which the holy and the
good of ages past have bowed in reverence.

We will consider but one more development of the
age ; but it is one which, more than any other, meets us
in this land in which our lot is cast. This is an age given
up to the worship of Mammon. It is not only an age de-
voted to the attainment of physical benefits, but the pur-
suit is carried on with an intense excitement, where all
are swept onward by a wild and headlong current. The
whole society with which we are brought in contact is
marked by an activity of thought which, we believe, the
world has never before witnessed. It rests not day nor
nioht. Every mind — often in spite of its own better res-
olutions— catches this restless spirit, and it is embodied in a
thousand schemes which the calm decisions of reason can-
not indorse. The past to which in this land we can look
back is scarcely long enough to bring to us the lessons of
experience. A nation has been born in a day, and, hardly
pausing to enjoy what the passing hour offers, all are
uro-ing forward to some beckoning promise in the future.
The imagination of each one is dazzled, and he rushes
forth to take his part in the conflict, where enterprise,
adventure, and ambition are hurrying all forward. There
is no repose, no pause in the race, but every languid mus-
cle is braced to vigorous exertion and every mind is awak-
ened to its highest exercise.

The question, then, is, what direction is all this excited
intellect to take? Unfortunately for us, this multitude.

15

which is thus awakened to such earnest effort, is agitated
by the ceaseless grasping after gain. The love of wealth,
which in other ages has held an important place in the
human heart, seems, in these last few years, to have increas-
ed, until there is danger lest it absorb all other feelings
and reign sole master in the breast.

In other lands there have been checks to this inordi-
nate growth of avarice, which substituted other objects of
reverence for that absorbing love of money which charac-
terizes us as a people. There was, for instance, a rever-
ence for ancient institutions and long- established forms.
There was the pride of ancestry, which called men to walk
worthy of their fathers' fame, and not, by their failures,
erase the inscriptions of honest praise which were graven
on the monuments of those who had gone before them.
There was, too, a higher estimate of intellectual and moral
worth. Men bowed to the supremacy of genius, and ac-
knowledged that mind was more elevated than matter —
that he whose radiant spirit seemed lighted up by the God
of Heaven, and gifted with strength to exert an influence
on all around him, possessed a treasure more to be envied
than if he had been master of countless stores of this
world's gold. Then self-denial and devotion were living
things — patriotism and loyalty were active principles —
and the worship of Mammon had not yet shriveled up the
souls of men into self-seeking and sordid pride. But many
of these high and ennobling considerations have, with us,
faded away, and we arc living in a generation which seems
to have no reverence for anything but money. " The greed
of gold " in this land is absorbing every other feeling. The
Polytheism of the ancient world indeed is gone, but it has
given place to the worship of a god whom Milton de-
scribes as

— " tlie least erected spiiit that fell
From heaven ; for e'en in heaven his looks and thoughts
Were always downward bent, admiring more
The riches of heav'n's jiavenient — trodden gold —
Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed
In vision beatific."

i6

We might speak of the injurious effect produced upon
the tone and spirit of society by the prevalence of these
feelings. The poetry and romance which once invested
life have given place to the claims of mere utility. The
sentiments which in former days refined and ennobled so-
ciety are considered antiquated. The lofty tone of honor,
once so highly prized, has deteriorated ; the refinement
which pervaded society has diminished, and its morality
has been gradually sinking to a lower ebb. In the excite-
ment produced through our land by the acquisition of sud-
den fortunes, strict and stern integrity has been forgotten,
and men mount up to wealth by greed and wrong, which
should draw upon them the withering scorn of all who
value honesty and right. But society is learning to call
such things by soft and lenient names. Wealth covers a
multitude of sins, and the voice is but feebly heard which
should rebuke this prevailing idolatry of wealth. The
physical resources of our land, thrown open to every one
who has the zeal and heart to labor, hold out the promise
of a golden prize to all, and few are there who have strength
to turn away from the multitude who are groveling in the
dust — few who can rest in the conviction that there is
something more valuable than money, and the search after
which is more dignified for an immortal spirit. We seem,
in this land, to have realized the ancient classic fable of
Midas, turning everything he touched to gold ; but cannot
we conceive of a more lofty character for a nation than
that its god should be Mammon and its temple the ex-
change ?

But it is becoming the general impression that the
acquisition of wealth is the most important business of
life, and that he is best fitted for intercourse with the world
who possesses most sagacity in heaping up riches. Even
political ofifice has lost its value, and is cared for only for
the emoluments it brings. To purify the heart and hu-
manize the affections — to provide, not only the means of

r

17

elevation in life, but the ability to bear success witli pro-
priety— to confer, not the power of subduing others, but the
means of conquering one's self — to impress all those solemn
lessons, which alone can guide man in his warfare, and
which lead him to look to a life beyond life — all these are
, passed by unheeded by the giddy multitude around us.
Thus, in the rising generation is created an intense and
feverish attention to worldly objects, while they are scarcely
taught that the deepest of all mysteries into which we can
penetrate is the human heart, and the highest improve-
ment would be the eradication of one sinful passion or the
extinguishing one guilty propensity in that dark fountain
of evil. Thus the mind is taught to look only to the Ma-
terial and the Earthly, and soon has no sympathy with the
True and the Spiritual.

But beyond all this influence on this world, how utterly
destructive is this spirit to the religious character ! How
impossible does it seem to unclasp the hands which are
madly clutching at gold, or to find room for Christ and
His gospel in hearts where Mammon is already enthroned!
Three thousand years ago the wise man declared : " He
that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent; " and
now we have around us, on all sides, evidences that the
flight of centuries has not changed this law of life. We
read it in the apathy to the Gosi)el of these toilers after
wealth, with regard to whom the command might well be
issued: "They are joined to their idols; let them alone."
We see it in the wreck of Christian character which so
often befalls those who come to these shores, and in the
desperation which fills a suicide's grave, when the god they
have worshiped will not shower his gifts upon them.

Such, then, my brethren of the clergy, is the conflict
in which we are engaged. Is it discouraging? Do we at
times feel disposed to throw aside our weapons and ex-
claim that this is a weary strife, in which all our efforts
are useless.? Such feelings are unavoidable; but we must

struggle against them, striving to follow in the steps of
Him who, thoilgh He " went about doing good," was
"despised and rejected of men." It is with our armor,
worn and dinted in the conflict, that we must present our-
selves before the Great Captain of our salvation. The
strusS-'le is ours — the result is with God.

" Great duties are before us, and great works ;
And, whether crowned or crownless, when we fall
It matters not, so as God's will is done."

Remember, then, that you are " citizens of no mean
city," and must walk w'orthy of the name you bear. Freeing
yourselves from all temporary and selfish ends, let the
solemn results for which you labor cast their influence
over every act and purpose. Unless you do this you will
find yourself laboring in vain. The strength to wage the
warfare will be paralyzed. In the mighty struggle which
is going on you will " fight as one that beateth the air." ''''
Unfitted for the " high endeavor " to which you are called,
your influence will be lost; and when you pass away it
will not be recorded that you have done anything which
shall be written in deep and solemn characters upon the
souls of men.

But live the true life of the Christian soldier, as they
have done who left the earth fragrant with their footsteps,
and how noble the results you may produce ! Everywhere
your field will be around you, and your power may be felt.
Not only in the hushed and solemn stillness of God's tem-
ple can your voice be heard, but it can penetrate to the
quiet circle which has gathered around ten thousand hearths
through our land, and be listened to above the noise of
the busy and toiling crowd. In the mart of traffic, where
the merchant bargains — on the restless sea, where the
weary sailor tosses — amid the turmoil of political strife —
by the side of the husbandman, as he turns up the furrow,
and of the artisan, as he plies his toil — where sorrow weeps

* I Cor. ix. 26.

19

and joy raises its note of exultation — everywhere that the
spirit of man is struggHng with temptation and sin, and
poor Humanity is going through its trial— everywhere that
the solemn mystery of this life is passing — may the Chris-
tian minister find his sphere of labor and influence.

With, then, my brethren, this wide-spread power, how
are we using it? The pulpit is said to contain within itself
THE LIVING POWER OF REPROOF. Are we bringing it to bear
upon the crying sins of the age, proclaiming its warnings
as fully to Dives in his hall as we would to Lazarus at his
gate ? Avoiding those harmless generalities which awaken
no fear and arouse no murmurs of conscience, do w^e speak
with the directness which brings home the pointed appli-
cation, "Thou art the man!" While the covetous and
the frivolous are treading the ways of death, do we utter
the startling rebukes which can awaken them from their
dreams ? While we are standing among the dying, and
from our firesides and our pews they are gliding into eter-
nity, do they hear anything from us to warn them of their
coming doom ? Does the commissioned herald of the
Cross urge them to awake from their letharg)- and flee to
the City of Refuge ; or does he seek to dazzle the mind
when he should improve the heart, preaching himself
• instead of his Lord, striving, as it were, "to carve his pal-
try name upon the rugged front of Christ's own cross ? "
Does he wave the censer between the living and the dead,
that the plague may be stayed ? * Does he carry with him,
through all his social intercourse, a Christian example,
ever inculcating the lesson that this life is fast vanishing
away, and that soon the judgment will be set and the books
be opened and all assemble to have their accounts bal-
anced for eternity ?

These, my brethren of the clergy, are the inquiries
which are naturally suggested to us by the subjects I have

* Num. xvi. 48.

293307

20

endeavored to bring before you. How fearful, then, the
record which is going on against us, as we lead and follow
our people to the grave ! We are " set for the fall and
rising again of many in Israel." If we are faithless, our gar-
ments will be dripping with the blood of the ruined and
the lost. And soon for us all visible things will have passed
away, and we stand up to have every action brought into
review — the motive of every sermon analyzed — and the
feelings examined with which " our eyes have seen and
our hands have handled the word of life." Realizing, then,
our own entire weakness, let us cast ourselves upon Him
who alone can give strength ; and while we record our ween-
ing penitence for the past, let us seek grace to labor as those >^
who feel that a world around us is sinking into ruin, while
above us are the opening heavens, to whose "tearless
state " we must invite those for whom Christ died and
eternity is waiting.

UNIVEI^ITY OF CALIFOK£«i-

AT

LOS ANGELES

LIBRARY

of the age,

OEC 21

1 *< '■

1

ig^B&O 2 i fiECD

*o - 1

EX

5837

K62c

llllllllll U II' III ■ "

AA 000 771091

DEMCO

■ IBDABV «IIPPI ITS

i-^^o n,i^\jx:±-Jio

THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

This book is DUE on the last dave stamped below

OCT 1 S
DEQ 2 1 t9Sf

JAN 12 1956

Form L-9
asm -2,' 43 (5205)

UNIVEE^ITY OF CALIFORi^jl

AT

LOS ANGELES

LIBRARY

of the age.

II II I II II II II III I <

AA 000 771 Qc