giforavjj
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
A SERMON,
BY THE
REV. JOHN CAIRD, M.A.,
MINISTER OP ERROIi.
REVISED BY THOMAS 0. SUMMERS, D.D.
» '
' Naafi&tlLe, :
PUBLISHED BY E. STEYENSON & F. A. OWEN, AGENTS,
FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH.
1857.
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY A. A. STITT,
SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE, NASHYILLE, TENN.
n t r 0.X)r u 11 x 0 tt •
In reprinting this excellent sermon, we do not
think it necessary to state on the title-page that
it was "preached in Crathie Church, Oct. 14,
1856, before her Majesty the Queen and Prince
Albert: published by her Majesty's command,"
as this might not be any recommendation to the
American reader. It is hoped, however, that
the knowledge of the fact will be no bar to its
circulation on this side of the Atlantic. Indeed,
it has already been extensively circulated among
us; and we have only yielded to the importunity
of those whose judgment we respect, in putting
it in our catalogue. As a concio ad aulam—a
sermon to the court—preached by a Presbyterian
divine, it is certainly unique, and contrasts most
favorably with the generality of discourses de¬
livered under such circumstances, in which too
frequently the flattery of royalty rather than
the glory of Grod seems to be the design of the
preacher.
The topic of the discourse indicates its char¬
acter. No subject could be more opportune
(iii)
iv INTRODUCTION.
Too long has religion been divorced from com¬
mon life : it is high time she were restored to
her proper place. It is mortifying to know that
thousands who profess and call themselves Chris¬
tians, think, feel, speak, and act as if religion
were a mere matter of Sundays, sermons, and
sacraments, having nothing at all to. do with the
thousand engagements of secular and social life.
To all such persons we recommend a serious
perusal of this valuable discourse. We should
not he surprised were they to consider it a new
gospel, though it lays no claim to originality of
any sort. It is, in fact, hut little more than a
practical expansion of those fine lines of Her¬
bert, which were before the author's eye when
he wrote the sermon :
"All may of Tliee partake:
Nothing so small can be,
But draws, when acted for Thy sake,
Greatness and worth from Thee.
If done t' obey Thy laws,
E'en servile labors shine:
Hallowed is toil if this the cause,
The meanest work divine."
In revising the discourse for the present edi¬
tion, no change deserving notice has been made
by
Nashville, Tenn., August 7, 1857.
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
" Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving
the Lord."—Rom. xii. 11.
To combine business with religion, to
keep up a spirit of serious piety amidst
tbe stir and distraction of a busy and
active life—tbis is one of tbe most diffi¬
cult parts of a Cbristian's trial in tbis
world. It is comparatively easy to be
religious in tbe cburcb, to collect our
tbougbts and compose our feelings, and
enter, witb an appearance of propriety
and decorum, into tbe offices of religious
worship amidst tbe quietude of tbe Sab-
batb, and witbin tbe still and sacred pre¬
cincts of tbe bouse of prayer. But to be
religious in tbe world, to be pious and
boly and earnest-minded in tbe counting-
1* (5)
6 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
room, the manufactory, the market-place,
the field, the farm—to carry out our good
and solemn thoughts and feelings into the
throng and thoroughfare of daily life—
this is the great difficulty of our Christian
calling. USTo man not lost to all moral
influence can help feeling his worldly
passions calmed, and some measure of
seriousness stealing over his mind, when
engaged in the performance of the more
awful and sacred rites of religion ; hut
the atmosphere of the domestic circle, the
exchange, the street, the city's throng,
amidst coarse work and cankering cares
and toils, is a very different atmosphere
from that of a communion-tahle. Pass¬
ing from the one to the other has often
seemed like the sudden transition from a
tropical to a polar climate,, from balmy
warmth and sunshine to murky mist and
freezing cold. And it appears sometimes
as difficult to maintain the strength and
steadfastness of religious principle and
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 7
feeling wlien we go forth from the church
into the world, as it would he to preserve
an exotic alive .in the open air in winter,
or to keep the lamp that burns steadily
within doors from being blown out if you
take it abroad unsheltered from the wind.
So great, so all but insuperable has this
difficulty ever appeared to men, that there
are but few who set themselves honestly
and resolutely to the effort to overcome
it. The great majority, by various shifts
or expedients, evade the hard task of be¬
ing good and holy at once in the church
and in the world.
In ancient times, for instance, it was,
as we all know, the not uncommon expe¬
dient among devout persons—men deeply
impressed with the thought of an eternal
world and the necessity of preparing for
it, but distracted by the effort to attend
to the duties of religion amidst the busi¬
ness and temptations of secular life—to
fly the world altogether, and, abandoning
8 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
society and all social claims, to betake
themselves to some hermit solitude,
some quiet and cloistered retreat, where,
as they fondly deemed, "the world for¬
getting, by the world forgot," their work
would become worship, and life be unin¬
terruptedly devoted to the cultivation of
religion in the soul. In our own day the
more common device, where religion and
the world conflict, is not that of the su¬
perstitious recluse, but one even much
less safe and venial. Keen for this world,
yet not willing to lose all hold on the
next—eager for the advantages of time,
yet not prepared to abandon all religion
and stand by the consequences, there is a
very numerous class who attempt to com¬
promise the matter, to treat religion and
the world like two creditors whose claims
cannot both be liquidated, by compound¬
ing with each for a share—though in this
case a most disproportionate share—of
their time and thought. " Every thing
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 9
in its own place," is the tacit reflection
of such. men. "Prayers, sermons, holy
reading"—they will scarcely venture to
add, "God"-—"are for Sundays;- hut
week-days are for the sober business, the
real, practical affairs of life. Enough if
we give the Sunday to our religious du¬
ties ; we cannot he always praying and
reading the Bible. Well enough for cler¬
gymen and good persons who have no¬
thing else to do, to attend to religion
through the week; hut for us, we have
other and more practical matters to
mind." And so the result is, that reli¬
gion is made altogether a Sunday thing—
a robe too fine for common wear, hut
taken out solemnly on state occasions,
and solemnly replaced when the state oc¬
casion is over. Like an idler in a crowded
thoroughfare, religion is jostled aside in
the daily throng of life, as if it had no
business there. Like a needful yet dis¬
agreeable medicine, men will be content
10 RELIGION IN COMMON LITE.
to take it now and then for their soul's
health, but they cannot and will not make
it their daily fare, the substantial and
staple nutriment of their life.
How you will observe that the idea of
religion which is set forth in the text, as
elsewhere in Scripture, is quite different
from any of these notions. The text
speaks as if the most diligent attention
to our worldly business were not by any
means incompatible with spirituality of
mind and serious devotion to the service
of God. It seems to imply that religion
is not so much a duty, as a something that
has to do with all duties; not a tax to be
paid periodically and got rid of at other
times, but a ceaseless, all-pervading, in¬
exhaustible tribute to Him who is not
only the object of religious worship, but
the end of our very life and being. It
suggests to us the idea that piety is not
for Sundays only, but for all days; that
spirituality of mind is not appropriate to
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 11
one set of actions, and an impertinence
and intrusion with reference to others,
but, like the act of breathing, like the cir¬
culation of the blood, like the silent
growth of the stature, a process that may
be going on simultaneously with all our
actions—when we are busiest as when we
are idlest; in the church, in the world;
in solitude, in society; in our grief, and
in our gladness; in our toil, and in our
rest; sleeping, waking; by day, by night
—amidst all the engagements and exi¬
gencies of life. For you perceive that in
one breath, as duties not only not incom¬
patible, but necessarily and inseparably
blended with each other, the text exhorts
us to be at once "not slothful in busi¬
ness," and "fervent in spirit, serving the
Lord." I shall now attempt to prove and
illustrate the idea thus suggested to us—
the compatibility of religion with the
business of common life.
We have then Scripture authority for
12 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
asserting, that it is not impossible to live
a life of fervent piety amidst the most en¬
grossing pursuits and engagements of the
world. We are to make good this con¬
ception of life, that the hardest-wrought
man of trade, or commerce, or handicraft,
who spends his days " midst dusky lane
or wrangling mart," may yet he the most
holy and spiritually-minded. We need
not quit the world and abandon its busy
pursuits in order to live near to God:
" We need not bid, for cloistered cell,
Our neighbor and our ■work farewell:
The trivial round, the common task,
May furnish all we ought to ask—
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God."
It is true, indeed, that if in no other way
could we prepare for an eternal world
than by retiring from the business and
cares of this world, so momentous are the
interests involved in religion that no wise
man should hesitate to submit to the
sacrifice. Life here is but a span. Life
RELIGION 1*N COMMON LIEE. 13
hereafter is for ever. A lifetime of soli¬
tude, hardship, penury, were all too slight
a price to pay, if need he, for an eternity
of bliss; and the results of our most' in¬
cessant toil and application to the world's
business, could they secure for us the
highest prizes of earthly ambition, would
be purohased at a tremendous cost, if
they stole away from us the only time in
which we could prepare to meet our
God—if they left us at last rich, gay,
honored, possessed of every thing the
world holds dear, but to face an eternity
undone. If, therefore, in no way could
you combine business and religion, it
would indeed be, not fanaticism, but
most sober wisdom and prudence, to let
the world's business come to a stand. It
would be the duty of the mechanic, the
man of business, the statesman, the
scholar, men of every secular calling,
without a moment's delay, to leave vacant
and silent the familiar scenes of their
2
14 RELIGION IN COiCMON LIFE.
toils, to turn life into a perpetual Sab¬
bath, and betake themselves, one and all,
to an existence of ceaseless prayer and
unbroken contemplation and devout care
of the soul.
But the very impossibility of such a
sacrifice proves that no such sacrifice is
demanded. He who rules the world is
no arbitrary tyrant, prescribing impracti¬
cable labors. In the material world there
are no conflicting laws; and no more, we
may rest assured, are there established in
the moral world any two laws one or
other of which must needs be disobeyed.
How one thing is certain, that there is in
the moral world a law of labor. Secular
work, in all cases a duty, is, in most cases,
a necessity. God might have made us
independent of work. He might have
nourished us like " the fowls of the air,
and the lilies of the field," which "toil
not, neither do they spin." He might
have rained down our daily food, like the
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 15
manna of old, from heaven, or caused
nature to yield it in unsolicited profusion
to all, and so set us free to a life of devo¬
tion. But inasmuch as he has not done
so, inasmuch as he has so constituted us
that without work we cannot eat, that if
men ceased for a single day to labor, the
machinery of life would come to a stand,
an arrest be laid on science, civilization,
social progress, on every thing that is
conducive to the welfare of man in the
present life, we may safely conclude that
religion, which is also good for man,
which is indeed the supreme good of man,
is not inconsistent with hard work. It
must undoubtedly be the design of our
gracious God, that all this toil for the
supply of our physical necessities, this
incessant occupation amid the things
that perish, shall be no obstruction, but
rather a help to our spiritual life. The
weight of a clock seems a heavy drag on
the delicate movements of its machinery;
16 BELIGI0N IN COMMON LIFE.
but so* far from arresting or impeding
those movements, it is indispensable to
their steadiness, balance, accuracy: there
must be some analogous action of what
seems the clog and drag-weight of worldly
work on the finer movements of man's
spiritual being. The planets in the hea¬
vens have a twofold motion, in their or¬
bits and on their axes, the one motion
not interfering, but carried on simulta¬
neously, and in perfect harmony with the
other: so must it be that man's twofold
activities, round the heavenly and the
earthly centre, disturb not nor jar with
each other. He who diligently discharges
the duties of the earthly, may not less
sedulously, nay, at the same moment,
fulfil those of the heavenly sphere; at
once "diligent in business," and "fer¬
vent in spirit, serving the Lord."
And that this is so, that this blending
of religion with the work of common life
is not impossible, you will readily per-
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 17
ceive, if you consider for a moment what,
according to the right and proper notion
of it, religion is. What do we mean by
" religion ?"
Religion may be viewed in two aspects.
It is a science, and it is an art; in other
words, a system of doctrines to be be¬
lieved, and a system of duties to be done.
View it in either light, and the point we
are insisting on may without difficulty
be made good. View it as a science, as
truth to be understood and believed. If
religious truth were, like many kinds of
secular truth, hard, intricate, abstruse,
demanding for its study not only the
highest order of intellect, but all the
resources of education, books, learned
leisure, then indeed to most men the
blending of 'religion with the necessary
avocations of life would be an impossi¬
bility. In that case it would be sufficient
excuse for irreligion to plead, " My lot in
life is inevitably one of incessant care and
2*
18 RELIGION IN COMMON'LIFE.
toil, of busy, anxious thought and wearing
work. Inextricably involved every day
and hour as I am in the world's business,
how is it possible for me to devote my¬
self to this high and abstract science ?"
If religion were thus, like the higher- ma¬
thematics or metaphysics, a science based
on the most recondite and elaborate rea¬
sonings, capable of being mastered only
by the acutest minds, after years of study
and laborious investigation, then might
it well be urged by many an unlettered
man of toil, " I am no scholar, I have no
head to comprehend these hard dogmas
and doctrines. Learning and religion are
no doubt fine things, but they are not for
humble and hard-wrought folk like me."
In this case, indeed, the gospel would be
no gospel at all, no good news of heavenly
love and mercy to the whole sin-ruined
race of man, but only a gospel for scho¬
lars—a religion, like the ancient philoso¬
phies, for a scanty minority intellectually
RELIGION IN COMMON LIEE. 19
able to grasp its principles, and set free
from active business to devote themselves
to the development and discussion of its
doctrines.
But the gospel is no such system of
high and abstract truth. The salvation
it offers is not the prize of a lofty intel¬
lect, but of a lowly heart. The mirror in
which its grand truths are reflected is not
a mind of calm and philosophic abstrac¬
tion, but a heart of earnest purity. Its
light shines best and fullest, not on a life
undisturbed by business, but on a soul
unstained by sin. The religion of Christ,
while it affords scope for the loftiest in¬
tellect in the contemplation and develop¬
ment of its glorious truths, is yet, in the
exquisite simplicity of its essential facts
and principles, patent to the simplest
mind. Rude, untutored, toil-worn you
may be, but if you have wit enough to
guide you in the commonest round of
daily toil, you have wit enough to learn
20 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
the way to be.saved. The truth as it is
in Jesus, while in one view of it so pro¬
found that the highest archangel's intel¬
lect may he lost in the contemplation of
its mysterious depths, is yet in another
so simple that the lisping babe at a
mother's knee may learn its meaning.
Again, view religion as an art, and in
this light too its compatibility with a
busy and active life in the world it will
not be difficult to perceive; for religion
as an art differs from secular arts in this
respect, that it may be practiced simulta¬
neously with other arts—with all other
work and occupation in which we may
be engaged. A man cannot be studying
architecture and law at the same time.
The medical practitioner cannot be en¬
gaged with his patients, and at the same
time planning houses or building bridges;
practicing, in other words, both medicine
and engineering at one and the same mo¬
ment. The practice of one secular art
RELIGION IN COMMON LIEE. 21
excludes for the time the practice of other
secular arts. But not so with the art of
religion. This is the universal art, the
common, all-embracing profession. It
belongs to no one set of functionaries, to
no special class of men. Statesman, sol¬
dier, lawyer, physician,, poet, painter,
tradesman, farmer—men of every craft
and calling in life may, while in the
actual discharge of the duties of their
varied avocations, be yet at the same mo¬
ment discharging the duties of a higher
and nobler vocation, practicing the art of
a Christian. Secular arts, in most cases,
demand of him who would attain to emi¬
nence in any of them, an almost exclusive
devotion of time and thought and toil.
The most versatile genius can seldom be
master of more than one art, and for the
great majority the only calling must be
that by which they earn their daily bread.
Demand of the poor tradesman or peasant
whose every hour is absorbed in the strug-
22 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE'.
gle to earn a competency for himself and
his family, that he shall be also a tho¬
rough proficient in the art of the physi¬
cian, or lawyer, or sculptor, and you de¬
mand an impossibility. If religion were
an art such as these, - few indeed could
learn it. The two admonitions, "Be dili¬
gent in business," and, "Be fervent in
spirit, serving the Lord," would be recip¬
rocally destructive.
But religion is no such art, for it is the
art of being and of doing good: to be an
adept in it is to become just, truthful,
sincere, self-denied, gentle, forbearing,
pure in word and thought and deed. And
the school for learning this art is not the
closet, but the world; not some hallowed
spot where religion is taught, and profi¬
cients, when duly trained, are sent forth
into the world, but the world itself—the
coarse, profane, common world, with its
cares and temptations, its rivalries and
competitions, its hourly, ever-recurring
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 23
trials of temper and character. This is,
therefore, an art which all can practice,
and for which every profession and call¬
ing, the busiest and most absorbing, af¬
ford scope and discipline. "When a child
is learning to write, it matters not of what
words the copy set to him is composed,
the thing desired being that whatever he
writes he learn to write well. When a
man is learning to be a Christian, it mat¬
ters not what his particular work in life
may be, the work he does is but the
copy-line set to him: the main thing to
be considered is, that he learn to live
well. The form is nothing, the execution
is every thing. It is true, indeed, that
prayer, holy reading, meditation, the so¬
lemnities and services of the Church, are
necessary to religion, and that these can
be practiced only apart from the work of
secular life. But it is to be remembered
that all such holy exercises do not termi¬
nate in themselves. They are but steps
24 KELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
in the ladder to heaven—good only as
they help us to climb. They are the irri¬
gation and enriching of the spiritual soil
—worse than useless if the crop become
not more abundant. They are, in short,
but means to an end—good only in so far
as they help us to be good and to do good,
to glorify God and do good to man; and
that end can perhaps best be attained by
him whose life is a busy one, whose avo¬
cations bear him daily into contact with
his fellows, into the intercourse of soci¬
ety, into the heart of the world. No man
can be a thorough proficient in navigation
who has never been at sea, though he may
learn the theory of it at home. No man
can become a soldier by studying books
on military tactics in his closet; he must
in actual service acquire those habits of
coolness, courage, discipline, address, ra¬
pid combination, without which the most
learned in the theory of strategy or engi¬
neering will be but a schoolboy soldier
RELIGION IN 1 COMMON LIFE. 25
after all. And in the same way, a man
in solitude and study may become a most
learned theologian, or may train himself
into the timid, effeminate piety of what
is technically called the "religious life."
But never, in the highest and holiest
sense, can he become a religious man until
he has acquired those habits of daily self-
denial, of resistance to temptation, of
kindness, gentleness, humility, sympathy,
active beneficence, which are to be ac¬
quired only in daily contact with man¬
kind. Tell us not, then, that the man of
business, the bustling tradesman, the toil-
worn laborer, has little or no time to at¬
tend to religion. As well tell us that the
pilot, amid the winds and storms, has no
leisure to attend to navigation; or the
general on the field of battle to the art of
war. Where will he attend to it ? Reli¬
gion is not a perpetual moping over good
books; religion is not even prayer, praise,
holy ordinances. These are necessary to
3
26 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
religion—no man can be religions with¬
out them. But religion, I repeat, is mainly
and chiefly the glorifying God amid the
duties and trials of the world—the guid¬
ing our course amid the adverse winds
and currents of temptation, by the star¬
light of duty and the compass of Divine
truth—the bearing us manfully, wisely,
courageously, for the honor of Christ our
great Leader in the conflict of life. Away
then with the notion that ministers and
devotees may be religious, but that a re¬
ligious and holy life is impracticable in
the rough and busy world. Nay, rather,
believe me, that is the proper scene, the
peculiar and appropriate field for reli¬
gion; the place in which to prove that
piety is not a dream of Sundays and soli¬
tary hours ; that it can bear the light of
day; that it can wear well amid the rough
jostlings, the hard struggles, the coarse
contacts of common life—the place, in
one word, to prove how possible it is for
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 27
a man to be at once " not slothful in
business," and "fervent in spirit, serving
tbe Lord."
Another consideration which I shall
adduce in support of the assertion that it
is not impossible to blend, religion with
the business of common life, is this, that
religion consists not so much in doing spi¬
ritual or sacred acts, as in doing secular acts
from a sacred or spiritual motive.
There is a very common tendency in
our minds to classify actions according to
their outward form, rather than accord¬
ing to the spirit or motive which per¬
vades them. Literature is sometimes
arbitrarily divided into "sacred" and
"profane" literature; history into "sa¬
cred" and "profane" history; in which
classification the term "profane" is ap¬
plied, not to what is bad or unholy, but
to every thing that is not technically
sacred or religious—to all literature that
does not treat of religious doctrines and
28 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
duties, and to all history save Church his¬
tory. And we are very apt to apply the
same principle to actions. Thus, in many
pious minds there is a tendency to regard
all the actions of common life as so much,
by an unfortunate necessity, lost to reli¬
gion. Prayer, the reading of the Bible
and devotional books, public worship,
and buying, selling, digging, sowing, bar¬
tering, money-making, are separated into
two distinct and almost hostile catego¬
ries. The religious heart and sympathies
are thrown entirely into the former, and
the latter are barely tolerated as a bond¬
age incident to our fallen state, but almost
of necessity tending to turn aside the
heart from God.
But what God hath cleansed, why
should we call common or unclean ? The
tendency in question, though founded on
right feeling, is surely a mistaken one;
for it is to be remembered that moral
qualities reside not in actions, but in the
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 29
agent who performs them, and that it is
the spirit or motive from which we do any
work that constitutes it base or noble,
worldly or spiritual, secular or sacred.
The actions of an automaton may be out¬
wardly the same as those of a moral
agent; but who attributes to them good¬
ness or badness ? A musical instrument
may discourse sacred melodies better than
the holiest lips can sing them; but who
thinks of commending it for its piety?
It is the same with actions as with places.
Just as no spot or scene on earth is in it¬
self more or less holy than another, but
the presence of a holy heart may hallow,
of a base one desecrate any place where
it dwells ; so with actions. Many actions
materially great and noble, may yet, be¬
cause of the spirit that prompts and per¬
vades them, be really ignoble and mean;
and on the other hand, many actions ex¬
ternally mean and lowly, may, because
of the state of his heart who does them,
8*
30 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
bo truly exalted and honorable. It is pos¬
sible to fill the highest station, on earth,
and go through the actions pertaining to
it, in a spirit that degrades all its digni¬
ties, and renders all its high and courtly
doings essentially sordid and vulgar; and
it is no mere sentimentality to say, that
there may dwell in a lowly mechanic's or
household servant's breast a spirit that
dignifies the coarsest toils, and " renders
drudgery divine." Herod of old was a
slave, though he sat upon a throne; but
who will say that the work of that car¬
penter's shop at Nazareth was not noble
and kingly work indeed ?
And as the mind constitutes high or
low, so secular or spiritual. A life spent
amidst holy things may be intensely se¬
cular : a life the most of which is passed
in the thick and throng of the world, may
be holy and divine. A minister, for in¬
stance, preaching, praying, ever speaking
holy words and performing sacred acts,
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 31
may be all the while doing actions no
more holy than those of the printer who
prints Bibles, or of the bookseller who
sells them; for in both, cases alike, the
whole affair may be nothing more than a
trade. Nay, the comparison tells worse
for the former, for the secular trade is in¬
nocent and commendable, but the trade
which traffics and tampers with holy
things is, beneath all its mock solemnity,
"earthly, sensual, devilish." So, to ad¬
duce one other example, the public wor¬
ship of God is holy work: no man can be
living a holy life who neglects it. But the
public worship of God may be, and with
multitudes who frequent our churches is,
degraded into work most worldly, most
unholy, most distasteful to the great Ob¬
ject of our homage. He " to whom all
hearts be open, all desires known," dis¬
cerns how many of you have come hither
to-day from the earnest desire to hold
communion with the Father of spirits, to
32 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
open your hearts to him, to unburden
yourselves in his loving presence of the
cares and crosses that have been pressing
hard upon you through the past week,
and by common prayer and praise, and
the hearing of his holy word, to gain fresh
incentive and energy for the prosecution
of his work in the world; and how many,
on the other hand, from no better motive,
perhaps, than curiosity, or old habit, or
regard to decency and respectability, or
the mere desire to get rid of yourselves
and pass a vacant hour that would hang
heavy on your hands. And who can
doubt that where such motives as these
prevail, to the piercing, unerring inspec¬
tion of Him whom outwardly we seem to
reverence,, not the market-place, the ex¬
change, the counting-room appears a
place more intensely secular—not the
most reckless and riotous festivity a scene
of more unhallowed levity, than is pre¬
sented by the house of prayer ?
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 33
But on. the other hand, carry holy prin¬
ciples with you into the world, and the
world will become hallowed by their pre¬
sence. A Christ-like spirit will Chris¬
tianize every thing it touches. A meek
heart, in which the altar-fire of love to
God is burning, will lay hold of the com¬
monest, rudest things in life, and trans¬
mute them, like coarse fuel at the touch
of fire, into a pure and holy flame. Reli¬
gion in the soul will make all the work
and toil of life, its gains and losses, friend¬
ships, rivalries, competitions, its manifold
incidents and,events, the means of reli¬
gious advancement. Marble or coarse
clay, it matters not much with which of
these the artist works, the touch of genius
transforms the coarser material into
beauty, and lends to the finer a value it
never had before. Lofty or lowly, rude
or refined as our earthly work may be, it
will become, to a holy mind, only the
material'for an infinitely nobler than all
34 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
the creations of genius—a pure and god¬
like life. To spiritualize what is material,
to Christianize what is secular, this is the
noble achievement of Christian principle.
If you are a sincere Christian, it will he
your great desire, by God's grace, to
bring every gift, talent, occupation of life,
every word you speak, every action you
do, under the control of Christian motive.
Your conversation may not always, nay,
may seldom, save with intimate friends,
consist of formally religious words—you
may perhaps shrink from the introduc¬
tion of religious topics in general society,
but it demands a less amount of Christian
effort occasionally to speak religious
words, than to infuse the spirit of religion
into all our words; and if the whole tenor
of your common talk be pervaded by a
spirit of piety, gentleness, earnestness,
sincerity, it will be Christian conversa¬
tion not the less. If God has endowed
you with intellectual gifts, it may be well
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 35
if you directly devote tliem to Ms service
in tlie religious instruction of others; hut
a man may he a Christian thinker and
writer/as much when giving to science,
or history, or biography, or poetry, a
Christian tone and spirit, as when com¬
posing sermons or writing hymns. To
promote the cause of Christ directly, by
furthering every religious and missionary
enterprise at home and abroad, is un¬
doubtedly your duty; hut remember that
your duty terminates not when you have
done all this, for you may promote
Christ's cause even still more effectually
when, in your daily demeanor, in the
family, in society, in your business trans¬
actions, in all your common intercourse
with the world, you are diffusing the in¬
fluence of Christian principle around you
by the silent eloquence of a holy life.
Rise superior, in Christ's strength, to all
equivocal practices and advantages in
trade; shrink from every approach to
36 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
meanness or dishonesty; let your eye,
fixed on a reward before which earthly
wealth grows dim, beam with honor; let
the thought of God make you self-re¬
strained, temperate, watchful over speech
and conduct; let the abiding sense of
Christ's redeeming love to you make you
gentle, self-denied, kind, and loving to
all around you: then indeed will your
secular life become spiritualized, while
at the same time your spiritual life will
grow more fervent; then not only will
your prayers become more devout, hut
when the knee bends not, and the lip is
silent, the life in its heavenward tone
will "pray without ceasing;" then from
amidst the roar and din of earthly toil,
the ear of God will hear the sweetest an¬
thems rising; then, finally, will your daily
experience prove that it is no high and
unattainable elevation of virtue, but a
simple and natural thing, to which the
text points when it bids us be both
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 37
"diligent in business," and. "fervent in
spirit, serving the Lord. "
As a last illustration of the possibility
of blending religion with the business
of common life, let me call your atten¬
tion to what may be described as the
mind's power of acting on latent principles.
In order 'to live a religious life in the
world, every action must be governed by
religious motives. But in making this
assertion, it is not by any means implied
that in all the familiar actions of our daily
life, religion must form a direct and con¬
scious object of thought. To be always
thinking of God and Christ and eternity
amidst our worldly work, and, however
busy, eager, interested we may be in the
special business before us, to have reli¬
gious ideas, doctrines, beliefs, present to
the mind, this is simply impossible. The
mind can no more consciously think of
heaven and earth at the same moment,
than the body can be in heaven and earth
4
38 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
at the same moment. Moreover, there
are few kinds of work in the world that
to he done well, must not he done
heartily—many that require, in order to
excellence, the whole condensed force
and energy of the highest mind.
But though it he true that we cannot, in
our worldly work, he always consciously
thinking of religion, yet it is also true
that unconsciously, insensibly, we may
he acting under its ever-present control.
As there are laws and powers in the natu¬
ral world of which, without thinking of
them, we are ever availing ourselves—as
I do not think of gravitation when I move
my limbs, or of atmospheric laws when,
by means of them, I breathe—so in the
routine of daily work, though compara¬
tively seldom do I think of them, I may
yet he constantly swayed by the motives,
sustained by the principles, living, breath¬
ing, acting in the invisible atmosphere of
true religion. There are under-currents
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 39
in the ocean which act independently of
the movements of the waters on the sur¬
face ; far down too in its hidden depths
there is a region where, even though the
storm be raging on the upper waves, per¬
petual calmness and stillness reign. So
there may he an under-current beneath
the surface-movements of your life: there
may dwell in the secret depths of your*
being the abiding peace of God, the re¬
pose of a holy mind, even though all the
while the restless stir and commotion of
worldly business may mark your outer
history.
And in order to see this, it is to be re¬
membered that many of the thoughts and
motives that most powerfully impel and
govern us in the common actions of life,
are latent thoughts and motives. Have
you not often experienced that curious
law—a law perhaps contrived by God
with an express view to this its highest
application—by which a secret thought
40 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
or feeling may lie brooding in your mind,
quite apart from the particular work in
which you happen to be employed? Have
you never, for instance, while reading
aloud, carried along with you in your
reading the secret impression of the pre¬
sence of the listener—an impression that
kept pace with all the mind's activity in
'the special work of reading; nay, have
you not sometimes felt the mind, while
prosecuting without interruption the
work of reading, yet at the same time
carrying on some other train of reflection
apart altogether from that suggested by
the book ? Here is obviously a particu¬
lar "business" in which you were "dili¬
gent," yet another and different thought
to which the " spirit" turned. Or think
of the work in which I am this moment
occupied. Amidst all the mental exer¬
tions of the public speaker, underneath
the outward workings of his mind, so to
speak, there is the latent thought of the
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 41
presence of his auditory. Perhaps no
species of exertion requires greater con¬
centration of thought or undividedness
of attention than this ; and yet, amid all
the subtile processes of intellect—the ex¬
cogitation or recollection of ideas—the
selection, right ordering, and enuncia¬
tion of words, there never quits his mind
for one moment the idea of the presence
of the listening throng. Like a secret at¬
mosphere, it surrounds and bathes his
spirit as he goes on with the external
work. And have not you too, my friends,
an Auditor—it may be, " a great cloud
of witnesses"—but at least one all-glori¬
ous Witness and Listener ever present,
ever watchful, as the discourse of life pro¬
ceeds ? Why then in this case too, while
the outward business is diligently prose¬
cuted, may there not be on your spirit a
latent and constant impression of that
awful inspection ? What worldly work
so absorbing as to leave no room in a be-
4*
42 RELIGION IN COMMON LIRE.
liever's spirit for the hallowing thought
of that glorious presence ever near ? Do
not say that you do not see God, that the
presence of the Divine Auditor is not
forced upon your senses as that of the
human auditory on the speaker; for the
same process goes on in the secret medi¬
tations as in the public addresses of the
preacher; the same latent reference to
those who shall listen to his words dwells
in his mind when in his solitary retire¬
ment he thinks and writes, as when he
speaks in their immediate presence. And
surely if the thought of an earthly audi¬
tory, of human minds and hearts that
shall respond to his thoughts.and words,
can entwine itself with all the activities
of a man's mind, arid flash back inspira¬
tion on his soul, at least as potent and as
penetrating may the thought be of Him,
the great Lord of heaven and earth, who
not only sees and knows us now, but be¬
fore whose awful presence, in the last
RELIGION IN COMMON LITE. 43
great congregation, we shall stand forth
to recount and answer for our every
thought and deed.
Or, to take but one other example,
have we not all felt that the thought of an¬
ticipated happiness may blend itself with
the work of our busiest hours ? The
laborer's evening release from toil, the
schoolboy's coming holiday, or the hard-
wrought business-man's approaching sea¬
son of relaxation, the expected return of
a long absent and much loved friend—is
not the thought of these, or similar joy¬
ous events, one which often intermingles
with, without interrupting, our common
work ? When^ a father goes forth to his
"labor till the evening," perhaps often,
very often, in the thick of his toils, the
thought of home may start up to cheer
him. The smile that is to welcome him
as he crosses his lowly threshold when
the work of the day is over, the glad
faces, the merry voices, and sweet caresses
44 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
of little ones, as they shall gather round
him in the quiet evening hours—the
thought of all this may dwell, a latent
joy, a hidden motive, deep down in his
heart of hearts, may come rushing in a
sweet solace at every pause of exertion,
and act like a secret oil to smooth the
wheels of labor. And so, in the other
cases I have named, even when our out¬
ward activities are the most strenuous,
even when every energy of mind and
body is full strung for work, the antici¬
pation of coming happiness may never be
absent from our minds. The heart has a
secret treasury where our hopes and joys
are often garnered, too precious to be
parted with even for a moment.
And why may not the highest of all
hopes and joys possess the same all-per¬
vading influence ? Have we, if our reli¬
gion he real, no anticipation of happiness
in the glorious future ? Is there no " rest
that remaineth to the people of God;"
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 45
no home and loving heart awaiting iib
when the toils of our hurried day of life
are ended ? "What is earthly rest or re¬
laxation—what that release from toil af¬
ter which we so often sigh, hut the faint
shadow of the saint's everlasting rest—
the repose of eternal purity—the calm of
a spirit in which, not the tension of labor
only, hut the strain of the moral strife
with sin has ceased—the rest of the soul
in God ? What visions of earthly bliss
can compare, if our Christian faith be not
a form, with " the glory which shall be
revealed in us ?" what joy of earthly re¬
union with the rapture of the hour when
the heavens shall yield our absent Lord
to our sight, to be parted from us no more
for ever ? And if all this be not a dream
and a fancy, but most sober truth, what
is there to except this joyful hope from
that law to which, in all other deep joys,
our minds are subject? Why may we
not, in this case too, think often, amid
46 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
our worldly work, of the home to which
we are going, of the true and loving heart
that beats for us, and of the sweet and
joyous welcome that awaits us there ?
And even when we make them not of set
purpose the subject of our thoughts, is
there not enough of grandeur in the ob¬
jects of a believer's hope to pervade his
spirit at all times with a calm and reve¬
rential j oy ? Do not think all this strange,
fanatical, impossible. If it do seem so, it
can only he because your heart is in the
earthly hopes, hut not in the higher and
holier hopes; because love to Christ is
still to you but a name; because you can
give more ardor of thought to the antici¬
pation of a coming holiday than to the
hope of heaven and glory everlasting.
3STo, my friends, the strange thing is, not
that amid the world's work we should be
able to think of our home, hut that we
should ever be able to forget it; and the
stranger, sadder still, that while the little
RELIGION IN COMMON LIEE. 47
day of life is passing, morning, noontide,
evening, each stage more rapid than the
last—while to many the shadows are al¬
ready fast lengthening, and the declining
sun warns them that "the night is at
hand, wherein no man can work," there
should he those among us whose whole
thoughts are absorbed in the business of
the world, and to whom the reflection
never occurs, that soon they must go out
into eternity without a friend, without a
home!
Such, then, is the true idea of the
Christian life-—a life not of periodic ob¬
servances, or of occasional fervors, or even
of splendid acts of heroism and self-devo¬
tion, but of quiet, constant, unobtrusive
earnestness, amid the commonplace work
of the world. This is the life to which
Christ calls us. Is it yours ? Have you
entered upon it, or are you now willing
to enter upon it ? It is not, I admit, an
imposing or an easy one. There is no-
48 RELIGION IN COMMON LIEE.
thing in it to dazzle; mnch in its hard¬
ness and plainness to deter the irresolute.
The life of a follower of Christ demands
not, indeed, in our day, the courage of
the hero or the martyr, the fortitude that
braves outward dangers and sufferings,
and flinches not from persecution and
death. But with the age of persecution
the difficulties of the Christian life have
not passed away. In maintaining, in the
unambitious routine of humble duties, a
spirit of Christian cheerfulness and con¬
tentment; in preserving the fervor of
piety amid unexciting cares and wearing
anxieties; in the perpetual reference to
lofty ends amid lowly toils, there may be
evinced a faith as strong as that of the
man who dies with the song of martyr¬
dom on his lips. It is a great thing to
love Christ so dearly as to be " ready to
be bound and to die" for him; but it is
often a thing not less great, to be ready to
take up our daily cross and to Uve for him.
RELIGION IN COMMON LIEE. 49
But be tbe difficulties of a Christian
life in the world what they may, they
need not discourage us. "Whatever the
work to which our Master calls us, he of¬
fers us a strength commensurate with our
needs. hTo man who wishes to serve
Christ, will ever fail for lack of heavenly
aid. And it will be no valid excuse for
an ungodly life that it is difficult to keep
alive the flame of piety in the world, if
Christ be ready to supply the fuel.
. To all, then, who really wish to lead
such a life, let me suggest that the first
thing to be done, that without which all
other efforts are worse than vain, is heart¬
ily to devote themselves to God through
Christ Jesus. Much as has been said of
the infusion of religious principle and
motive into our worldly work, there is a
preliminary advice of greater importance
still—that we be religious. Life comes be¬
fore growth. The soldier must enlist be¬
fore he can serve. In vain are all direc-
5
50 RELIGION IN COMMON LIPE.
tions how to keep the fire ever burning
on the altar, if first it he not kindled. Ho
religion can be genuine, no goodness can
be constant or lasting, that springs not,
as its primary source, from faith in
Jesus Christ. To know Christ as my
Saviour; to eom'e with all my guilt
and weakness to him in whom trem¬
bling penitence never fails to find a
friend; to cast myself at his feet in whom
all that is sublime in Divine holiness is
softened, though not obscured, by all that
is beautiful in human tenderness; and,
believing in that love stronger than death,
which, for me and such as me, drained the
cup of untold sorrows, and bore without
a murmur the bitter curse of sin, to trust
my soul for time and eternity into his
hands—this is the beginning of true reli¬
gion. And it is the reverential love with
which the believer must ever look to Him
to whom he owes so much, that consti¬
tutes the mainspring of the religion of
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 51
daily life. Selfishness may prompt to a
formal religion, natural- susceptibility
may give rise to a fitful one, but for a
life of constant fervent piety amid the
world's cares and toils, no motive is suf¬
ficient save one—self-devoted love to
Christ.
But again, if you would lead a Chris¬
tian life in the world, let me remind you
that that life must be continued as well as
begun with Christ. You must learn to
look to him not merely as your Saviour
from guilt, bijt as the Friend of your se¬
cret life, the chosen Companion of your
solitary hours, the Depositary of all the
deeper thoughts and feelings of your soul.
You cannot live for him in the world un¬
less you live much with him apart from
the world. In spiritual as in secular
things, the deepest and strongest charac¬
ters need much solitude to form them.
Even earthly greatness, much more moral
52 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
and spiritual greatness, is never attained
but as the result of much tbat is con¬
cealed from the world—of many a lonely
and meditative hour. Thoughtfulness,
self-knowledge, self-control, a chastened
wisdom and piety, are the fruit of habitual
meditation and prayer. In these exercises
heaven is brought near, and our exagge¬
rated estimate of earthly things corrected.
By these our spiritual energies, shattered
and worn by the friction of worldly work,
are repaired. In the recurring seasons
of devotion the cares and, anxieties of
worldly business cease to vex us; ex¬
hausted with its toils, we have, in daily
communion with God, " meat to eat
which the world knoweth not of;" and
even when its calamities and losses fall
upon us, and our portion of worldly good
may be withdrawn, we may be able to
show, like those holy ones of old at the
heathen court, by the fair serene counte-
RELIGION IN COMMON LIEE. 53
nance of the spirit, that we have some¬
thing better than the world's meat to
feed upon.
But further, in availing yourself of this
divine resource amid the daily exigences
of life, why should you wait always for
the periodic season and the formal atti¬
tude of prayer ? The heavens are not
open to the believer's call only at inter¬
vals. The grace of God's Holy Spirit falls
not, like the fertilizing shower, only now
and then; or like the dew on the earth's
face, only at morning and night. At all
times on the uplifted face of the believer's
spirit the gracious element is ready to de¬
scend. Pray always; pray without ceas¬
ing. When difficulties arise, delay not to
seek and obtain at once the succor you
need. Swifter than by the subtile elec¬
tric agent is thought borne from earth to
heaven. The great Spirit on high is in
constant sympathy with the believing
spirit beneath, and in a moment, in the
5*
54 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
twinkling of an, eye, the thrill of aspira¬
tion flashes from the heart of man to God.
Whenever any thing vexes yon; when¬
ever, from the rude and selfish ways of
men, any trials of temper cross your path;
when your spirits are ruffled, or your
Christian forbearance put to the test, he
this your instant resource. Haste away,
if only for a moment, to the serene and
peace-breathing presence of Jesus, and
you will not fail to return with a spirit
soothed and calmed. Or when the im¬
pure and low-minded surround you—
when, in the path of duty, the high tone
of your Christian purity is apt to suffer
from baser contacts, 0 what relief to lift
the heart to Christ, to rise on the wings
of faith—even for one instant to breathe
the air of that region where the infinite
Purity dwells, and then return with a
mind steeled against temptation, ready to
recoil with the instinctive abhorrence of
a spirit that has been beside the throne
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 55
from all that is impure and vile. Say not
then, with such aid at your command,
that religion cannot he brought down to
common life.
In conclusion, let me once more urge
upon you the great lesson on which we
have been insisting. Carry religious prin¬
ciple into every-day life. Principle ele¬
vates whatever it touches. Pacts lose all
their littleness to the mind which brings
principle and law to hear upon them.
The chemist's or geologist's soiled hands
are no sign of base work; the coarsest
operations of the laboratory, the breaking
of stones with a hammer, cease to be me¬
chanical when intellectual thought and
principle govern the mind and guide the
hands. And religious principle is the
noblest of all. Bring it to bear on com¬
mon actions and worldly affairs, and in¬
finitely nobler even than the philosophic
or scientific becomes the Christian life.
Live for Christ in common things, and
56 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
all your work will become priestly work.
As in the temple of old it was holy work
to hew wood or mix oil, because it was
done for the altar-sacrifice or the sacred
lamps, so all your daily and common
work will receive a consecration when
done for God's glory by one who is a true
priest to his temple.
Carry religion into common life, and
your life will be rendered useful as well
as noble. There are many men who lis¬
ten incredulously to the high-toned ex¬
hortations of the pulpit: the religious life
there depicted is much too seraphic, they
think, for this plain and prosaic world of
ours. Show these men that the picture
is not a fancy one. Make it a reality.
Bring religion down from the clouds.
Apply to it the infallible test of experi¬
ment ; and by suffusing your daily actions
with holy principles, prove that love to
God, superiority to worldly pleasure,
spirituality, holiness, heavenly-minded-
RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE. 57
ness, are something more than the stock
ideas of sermons.
Carry religions principle into common
life, and common life will lose its transi-
toriness. "The world passeth away."
" The things that are seen are temporal."
Soon business, with all its cares and
anxieties, the whole " unprofitable stir
and fever of the world," will he to us a
thing of the past. But religion does
something better than sigh and muse over
the perishahleness of earthly things; it
finds in them the seed of immortality.
No work done for Christ perishes. No
action that helps to mould the deathless
mind of a saint of God is ever lost. Live
for Christ in the world, and you carry out
with you into eternity all of the results
of the world's business that are worth the
keeping. The river of life sweeps on, hut
the gold grains it held in solution are left
behind, deposited in the holy heart.
" The world passeth away, and the lust
58 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
thereof; but be that doeth the will of God
abidetb for ever." Every other result of
our " diligence in business" will soon be
gone. You cannot invent any mode of
exchange between the visible and invisi¬
ble worlds, so that the balance at your
credit in the one can be transferred, when
you migrate from it, to your account in
the other. "Worldly sharpness, acuteness,
versatility, are not the qualities in request
in the world to come. The capacious in¬
tellect, stored with knowledge, and disci¬
plined into admirable perspicacity, tact,
worldly wisdom, by a lifetime devoted to
politics or business, is not, by such at¬
tainments, fitted to take a higher place
among the sons of immortality. The
honor, fame, respect, obsequious homage
that attend worldly greatness up to the
grave's brink, will not follow it one step
beyond. These advantages are not to be
despised; but if these be all that, by the
toil of our hand or the sweat of our brow,
RELIGION IN COMMON LIRE, 59
we liave gained, the hour is fast coming
when we shall discover that we have
labored in vain, and spent our strength
for nanght. But while these pass, there
are other things that remain. The world's
gains and losses may soon cease to affect
us; but not the gratitude or the patience,
the kindness or the resignation, they
drew forth from our hearts. The world's
scenes of business may fade on our sight,
the noise of its restless pursuits may fall
no more upon our ear, when we pass to
meet our God; but not one unselfish
thought, not one kind and gentle word,
not one act of self-sacrificing love done
for Jesus' sake, in the midst of our com¬
mon work, but will have left an indelible
impress on the soul, which will go out
with it to its eternal destiny. So live,
then, that this may be the result of your
labors. So live that your work, whether
in the Church or in the world, may be¬
come a discipline for that glorious state
60 RELIGION IN COMMON LIFE.
of being in wbicb the Churcb and tbe
world sball become one; wbere work sball
be worship, and labor shall be rest; where
the worker shall never quit the temple,
nor the worshipper the place of work, be¬
cause "there is no temple therein, but
the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb
are the temple thereof."
THE END.