imm 
 

 fcibrarj? of Che theological ^emm< 
 
 PRINCETON . NEW JERSEY 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Rev. Robert B. Sheldon 
 
 BV 4501 .D62 1865 ' 
 Hamilton, Gail, 1833-1896. 
 Stumbling-blocks 
 
 %xy 
 
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f^..3 1960. 
 StUMBLING-BlcM^^'sal stv\\^ 
 
 GAIL HAMILTON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "country LIVING AND COUNTRY THINKING,* 
 
 "gala-days," etc. 
 
 BOSTON 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS 
 
 1865 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 UNIVERSITY Press: 
 
 Welch, Bicelow, and Company, 
 
 Cambridge. 
 
Con 
 
 TENTS. 
 
 Pack 
 
 I. The Outs and the Ins i 
 
 II. The Fitness of Things .... 9 
 
 III. Ordinances 43 
 
 IV. Church-Sittings 82 
 
 V. A View from the Pews . . . .110 
 
 VI. Prayer-Meetings i49 
 
 VII. The Proof of your Love . . . .180 
 
 VIII. Controversies 224 
 
 IX. Amusements 260 
 
 X. God's Way 300 
 
 XI. The Law of Christ 323 
 
 Xn. Praying 35^ 
 
 XIIL Forgiveness 375 
 
 XIV. Error 388 
 
 XV. Words without Knowledge .... 401 
 
THE OUTS AND THE INS. 
 
 §) HE World and the Church are two op- 
 
 posing forces. To make everything 
 move easily, the Church ought to be 
 r^ entirely composed of good people and 
 the World of bad. As matters stand, there are 
 a great many sinners in the Church and a great 
 many saints in the World. Moreover, the people 
 who are* good are not good all the Avay through, 
 and the people who are bad have many excel- 
 lent qualities, — which compHcates the case still 
 further. Also, the Church is and should be ag- 
 gressive, for the avowed design of its Leader is 
 to reign till he hath put all things under his 
 feet. But its chief weapon should be love ; and 
 because it will not confine itself to this weapon, it 
 is far less aggressive than it should be. Instead 
 of loving the sinner while hating the sin, it often 
 falls into a way of loving itself and hating the 
 sinner. The World, being a very observant, as 
 
 1 A 
 
2 THE OUTS AND THE IN^. 
 
 well as a very wicked World, sees this, and falls 
 to making reprisals. It gathers together the sins 
 of Christians, and builds thereof a bulwark for it- 
 self against Christianity, behind which it pours its 
 small shot into the Church. In all this the World 
 is entirely wrong, though the Church is very far 
 from right. The World, in the first place, makes 
 the mistake of thinking that, when a man "joins 
 the church," he steps out of the sphere of ordi- 
 nary humanity, is to be measured by different 
 standards, and is amenable to new laws, — stand- 
 ards and laws which have no relation to other men. 
 His faults and foibles immediately assume a new 
 importance. His movements are watched with 
 careful scrutiny, and criticised with rigid severity. 
 Failings become vices ; faults, crimes ; and an im- 
 perfect man, a hypocrite. Constitutional tenden- 
 cies to particular sins, formerly unmarked or but 
 slightly noticed, are first exaggerated, and then 
 turned into an occasion for innuendoes and sneers, 
 if not against the Christian religion, at least against 
 its profession and its professors. 
 
 This is all wrong. It is founded on a wrong 
 idea. What is it to "join the church " ? " Does 
 he profess to be a good man ? " I once heard a 
 person ask ; and many people seem to fancy that 
 when a man joins the church he professes to be 
 good^ — better than other people; and they ac- 
 cordingly set themselves to work to ascertain and 
 prove that he is not. But is there a church in the 
 
THE OUTS AND THE INS. 3 
 
 land that requires its members to make a profes- 
 sion of goodness ? I never heard of such a one. 
 Those who enter into church covenants profess 
 to love Christ, and promise to obey his commands, 
 and to watch over each other ; but I never heard 
 a sino-le individual declare himself to be good, 
 holy, righteous. ''Joining the church" is rather 
 a profession of belief in and love of God, and of 
 an intention to do his will. This is done, first, 
 because Christ is supposed to have ordained some 
 such profession ; secondly, because each man, en- 
 dowing his own weakness with his brother's 
 strength, is supposed thereby to be better able to 
 resist temptation, and to grow in grace; and, 
 thirdly, because the Christianization of the world 
 is expected to be sooner effected by ranging the 
 guns, than by letting each man fire his shot at 
 random. I know no other profession and no other 
 purpose. In what respect, then, does this place a 
 man on a new plane ? He simply promises to do 
 what it is the imperative duty of every human 
 being to do. No possible vow can increase its 
 imperativeness. The acknowledgment of obliga- 
 tion does not create obligation. The recognition 
 of relation does not establish relation. Every hu- 
 man being owes allegiance to God. All that he 
 has and all that he is belongs now and forever to 
 God. No contract can increase, and no absence 
 of contract can diminish, the weight of such ob- 
 ligation. 
 
4 THE OUTS AND THE INS. 
 
 It follows, then, that church-members and non- 
 church-memhers are to be judged by the same 
 rule. No duties are incumbent on the one that 
 are not incumbent on the other. I do not mean 
 to imply that the standard by which Christians are 
 measured should be lowered. Lowered ? Heaven 
 forbid ! No one is in danger of failing because he 
 sets his mark too high. The grander the attempt, 
 the grander the achiev^ement. It is only by fol- 
 lowing on to know the Lord, that we learn to 
 know him at all. Let not one jot or tittle be 
 taken from the measure of the stature of the ful- 
 ness of Christ. But w^iat I do say is, that a 
 non-church-member has no risht to consider an 
 act sinful in a church-member that would not 
 be sinful in himself; nor a sinful act to be any 
 more so in the one than in the other. If it is 
 wrong for a church-member to steal, to com- 
 mit forgery, to drink wine, to gamble, to pJay 
 cards, to mend his tools on Sunday, to stay away 
 from church, to be crabbed, fretful, impatient, 
 violent-tempered, it is also wrong, and equally 
 wrong, for a non-church-member. For a man 
 to excuse wrong-doing in himself, on the plea 
 that he does not belong to the church, or to exag- 
 gerate it in others on the plea that they do, is 
 absurd. He ought to belong to the church. He 
 ought to have that state of heart and will which 
 would justify him in joining it. If it is the duty 
 of one, it is the duty of all. If Christ has left, 
 
THE OUTS AND THE INS. 5 
 
 and if the history of the world gives, intimations 
 that the glory of God and the good of man can be 
 best promoted by organization, tlien it is the duty, 
 not of A and B only, but of the whole alphabet, 
 to organize. If A and B, who have signed the 
 compact, do not live according to it, it is not for 
 C, who stands aloof, to complain of them, or to ex- 
 ult over them. His own guilt is farther back than 
 theirs. However wrong they may be, they have 
 taken one step towards the right, which he has not. 
 
 If two children in a family sign a paper, signi- 
 fying that they will love, respect, and obey their 
 parents, do they owe love, honor, and obedience 
 any more than the other children, who have not 
 signed it ? If, notwithstandhig their written agree- 
 ment, they fall into disobedience, does it indicate 
 that they are more blameworthy than the other 
 children who also fall into disobedience ? Not at 
 all. It only shows that the contract, in their case, 
 has failed of its intended effect. 
 
 Just so, it may be said, violation of church cov- 
 enant shows the invalidity of such covenants. It 
 does in that one case ; that is all. It indicates 
 that in that individual the principle of evil has 
 overleaped the restraints ; that he was wrong in 
 supposing that he loved Christ, and willed to serve 
 him ; or that, loving him, it was with a faint and 
 fluctuating emotion, and not with that perfect love 
 against which the waves of temptation surge and 
 dash and break in vain. 
 
6 THE OUTS AND THE INS. 
 
 I do not propose to enter into a discussion of 
 the effectiveness of church organization. I wish 
 only to say that the derehction of one, two, or a 
 dozen, or a hundred individuals, does not show it 
 to be worthless. So long as men liave the power 
 to deceive themselves and to deceive others, so 
 long will there be many in the church who are not 
 of the church. In order to demonstrate that 
 church organization is useless, it will be necessary 
 to divide our country, or any nominally Christian 
 country, into two classes, — those who belong to a 
 church, and those who do not ; and then to show 
 that morality and religion, purity of heart and life 
 and practical benevolence, are equally distributed 
 between these two classes. It may not be that this 
 will solve the problem, but nothing short of this 
 will. Even should we be able to find no good in 
 such organizations, indications of Christ's will still 
 remaining, there would be no choice as to our 
 duty. I do not think, however, that the result of 
 such an investigation would throw the question 
 back upon the teachings of Christ. 
 
 Again, the fact that a man commits sin after 
 joining the church does not necessarily prove 
 him to be a hypocrite or a self-deceiver. Sin — a 
 sin — is too widely spread, and too deeply rooted 
 in the human heart, to be extirpated in a moment. 
 The axe has, indeed, been laid at the root of the 
 tree. Its gnarled trunk, unseemly branches, and 
 poisonous leaves have disappeared, and the man 
 
THE OUTS AND THE INS. 7 
 
 fondly believes that his sin will trouble him no 
 more ; but anon green shoots sprout up round 
 about, showing him that the roots are there, drink- 
 ing in sustenance from the springs of his life. 
 Then he digs about them, diving deep into the 
 soil, undermining, plucking up, trampling under 
 foot, and burning ; but it may be the work of a 
 lifetime, and never, never in this world shall the 
 garden of his soul go back to the velvet verdure 
 of Eden, but remain a rugged, upheaved patch, — 
 fertile, it may be, but irregular; productive, but 
 uncouth ; a vineyard of the Lord, but not the land 
 of Beulah. 
 
 For it is the baleful nature of all sin, that, though 
 never so bitterly repented of, it leaves a scar. 
 
 If a man has lived in selfishness, if he has rioted 
 in wine and wantonness, if he has found his pleas- 
 ure in heaping up wealth, if he has never re- 
 strained his tongue or his temper, it is not improb- 
 able that, after his conversion, even though it be 
 real, he will sometimes lapse into his former wrong 
 habits. He will see Christ, but it will be through 
 a glass, darkly, and the glass will be colored by 
 the peculiarities of his own character. The ava- 
 ricious man will have many a hard fight against 
 avarice, and will perhaps sometimes succumb. The 
 untruthful man will keep out many a lie that 
 comes battering at his barred gate, though a sly 
 little falsehood may elude his vigilance, nay, even 
 take advantage of it, and worm itself in through 
 
8 THE OUTS AND THE INS. 
 
 a crevice. The World will not see the many con- 
 tests, the frequent victories, but only the one defeat ; 
 and seeing this, will be ready to exclaim, " If this 
 is what comes of your Christianity, I am very well 
 content without it.'* 
 
 World, you are in the wrong. This is not what 
 comes of Christianity : it is what comes in spite 
 of it. The errors that you see result, not from 
 Christianity, but from a deficiency of it. The man 
 has it, but not enough. It is not sufficient to say 
 that he is a sinner after he professes to have be- 
 come a Christian. You must show that, without 
 it, he would have sinned no more. Until you 
 know what religion ha's done for him, as well as 
 what it has left undone, you are not a competent 
 judge. And may it not be suspected that the 
 extreme alacrity with which you discover and ex- 
 hibit his errors is not owing solely to your hatred 
 of shams and your love of sincerity and truth, but 
 in great measure to a strong, though perhaps un- 
 conscious, desire to justify the position which you 
 yourself have adopted, and which your conscience 
 continually warns you is an unsafe and untenable 
 one? 
 
II, 
 
 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 UT however wrong the World may be 
 in the positions which it assumes, the 
 Church is verily guilty concerning her 
 brother. By her folly and her wick- 
 edness she places stumbling-blocks in the way of 
 the World. By setting great value on incidentals, 
 s6ad small value on essentials, she confounds moral 
 distinctions, and offends Christ's little ones. She 
 too often exalts forms and neglects principles. She 
 adheres to the letter, and disregards the spirit. 
 
 For instance, going to church and to church- 
 meetings, maintaining family worship, leading in 
 social prayer, reading the Bible, committing it to 
 memory, warning the impenitent, and endeavoring 
 to lead them to the truth, are undoubtedly right 
 things to do ; but they are not proofs of Chris- 
 tianity in the soul, — only indications. They are 
 the incidents, noi the essentials of religion. We 
 know that there are conceivable circumstances in 
 1* 
 
10 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 which a man can be an eminent Christian without 
 going to church; but no circumstances can arise 
 which shall render Christianity consistent with dis- 
 honesty. A cripple may be a saint, but a thief 
 never. 
 
 The incidental is not objectionable. It is good 
 for just what it is. Tithes of mint, anise, and 
 cumin are due, and should be paid promptly, 
 fully, and cheerfully ; but these being done, there 
 are other things which ought not to be left un- 
 done, — nay, there may be other things which 
 should have been done first. 
 
 The letter is excellent where it belongs. It is 
 a guide through a wilderness, the director, but not 
 the source of strength. It is a watchword in 
 battle, convenient, generally the sign of a friend, 
 but not infallible. It is a body for the soul, a fit 
 residence for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit ; 
 but when, instead of acting in the capacity of 
 servant to the spirit, it gets the upper hand, — 
 when, instead of being informed with the split's 
 glow, it strikes in, till letter and spirit congeal 
 together in one frozen mass, — then, indeed, the 
 letter killeth. 
 
 Not long ago I read an anecdote, in which a 
 certain faulty Mr. A. was rebuked. He was 
 granted to be upright, benevolent, charitable, pa- 
 tient, — in fact, he seemed to be endowed with 
 nearly all the Christian virtues, while the sole per 
 contra was, that he never talked to people about 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. H 
 
 personal religion, never conversed with them upon 
 their own salvation. If this were an isolated case, 
 it would not be worth while to animadvert upon 
 it ; but the same disposition is so often manifested, 
 the same tendency to regard a constitutional qual- 
 ity as a fatal sin or a cardinal vu-tue, that it is 
 worthy of a moment's attention. 
 
 First, the man who has professed Christ before 
 men, and who subsequently leads an upright, 
 pure, and blameless life, is daily and hourly and 
 momently preaching Christ and him crucified 
 with a silent power, with a persistent working 
 force, which there is no agency in earth or heU 
 strong enough to withstand.. And, furthermore, 
 if all Christians would lead such lives, it would 
 almost seem that not one word would need to be 
 spoken for Christ, — that the glory of God would 
 be so revealed in his Church, that men would flock 
 to it as clouds, and as doves to their window, — 
 that this city set on a hill would be seen to be 
 a city of refuge, whereunto the weary and the 
 heavy-laden would flee, and find eternal rest. 
 
 "Pure religion and undefiled before God and 
 the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and the 
 widow in their aflBiction, and to keep himself un- 
 spotted from the world." Can anything be more 
 exphcit? And if one professing to be Christ's 
 disciple fulfils these conditions, who shall dare 
 preach any other Gospel or set up any other 
 standard ? 
 
12 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 Secondly, religion develops, but does not create 
 faculties. If a sinner is a confirmed tailor, he 
 will not turn poet when he becomes a saint. He 
 may become a better tailor, but he will be a tailor 
 still. If he is a shoemaker by nature, he will not 
 be a sculptor by grace. If he has been witty , 
 he will not suddenly discover a capacity for dul 
 ness ; and if he has been stupid, he will not imme 
 diately astonish you with his brilliancy. If ht 
 was a sociable man before his conversion, he will 
 be sociable after it ; and if he was reserved be- 
 fore, reserved he will continue. There may be 
 exceptions, but this is the rule. It follows, then, 
 that the man who is most fluent and ready in 
 exhortation and prayer is not necessarily the man 
 who lives nearest to God. He may be, but we 
 cannot from such facts alone infer that he is. 
 I once heard of a woman whose Lares and Pe- 
 nates were disorder and un cleanliness ; whose 
 husband and children were squalid and repul- 
 sive from sheer neglect ; but who descanted with 
 unctuous fervor on religious topics, and when 
 asked by a modest and admiring matron how 
 it was that she could do this, " It 's grace," she 
 replied, complacently, — " it 's grace that enables 
 me to do it." One can but think that, if it were 
 grace, it was a great pity that grace had not taken 
 another turn, and set her to mending her family's 
 clothes, and making their home decent. In my 
 opinion, however, it was not grace, but some- 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 13 
 
 thing quite different. Of course I do not mean 
 to say that a clean floor in your own house is 
 of more importance than a soul saved in your 
 neighbor's ; but Christ, whether his favor is sought 
 for yourself or others, is always to be sought in 
 the way of duty, never out of it ; and as it is a 
 w^ife's unquestionable duty to attend to the affairs 
 of her household, she cannot systematically neglect 
 that duty without incurring grave suspicions as to 
 her Christian character. 
 
 This is not said in any captious spirit towards 
 those who have the gift of tongues. They may 
 be the very best Christians in the Church. Their 
 power may have received an additional impulse 
 from religion. Its owner may have cultivated it 
 all the more assiduously for Christ]s sake ; and if 
 so, he has done well, and he shall not lose his re- 
 ward. I only wish that effects shall be attributed 
 to their proper causes, that the gifts of nature and 
 the gifts of grace shall not be confounded. Nor 
 will this involve any derogation from the latter. 
 Nature is just as truly from God as grace. Grace 
 and nature work harmoniously together, if w^e can 
 but ward off prurient fingers. Nature furnishes 
 the foundation, and grace rears the superstructure. 
 This is the point I aim particularly to impress, — 
 that when religion permeates the soul, it elevates, 
 refines, strengthens, and sharpens the powers we 
 possess, and not the powers we do not possess ; 
 that some are naturally orators, and that others 
 
14 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 are not ; that while some can preach the truth 
 with their lips, others can preach it only with 
 their lives ; that this distinction is not superfi- 
 cial, but has its basis deep down in the human 
 heart ; that a recognition of it will facilitate the 
 working of the Divine economy, and that a non- 
 recognition of it occasions great friction, waste, 
 and trouble. 
 I have heard 
 
 " Men whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent 
 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul," 
 
 and women whose whole prayerful, loving, beauti- 
 ful lives were a constant gospel, lament their own 
 inefficiency, and gaze with self-reproachfiil admi- 
 ration upon those who had this gift of tongues. 
 Dear friend, there are, it may be, so many kinds 
 of voices in the world, and none of them is with- 
 out signification. The fair temple that crowns 
 the summit of Mount Moriah went up without 
 sound of hammer or axe, but the glory of the 
 Lord dwelt therein. 
 
 In a great machine there are many wheels and 
 pulleys and weights and frames and bands. Some 
 move swiftly, some slowly ; some with a ceaseless 
 click, some with a heavy thud, some in unbroken 
 silence : but all are parts of the same machine ; all 
 combine harmoniously to the same end. 
 
 Undue self-reproach on the part of silent toilers 
 is not the only or the chief evil resulting from a 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 15 
 
 ^ant of discrimination. By it, the strength of 
 the Church is diminished, her working power 
 wasted, and the coming of Christ's kingdom de- 
 layed. 
 
 For example: there is a deficiency of teachers in 
 the Sabbath school. An appeal is at once made to 
 the Church. The low state of Zion is lamented. 
 The activity and zeal of Christians in their worldly 
 calling are contrasted with their backwardness in 
 the Lord's service. Men and women are urged to 
 press forward, to come up to the help of the Lord 
 against the mighty, to stand in the breach, to 
 work in the vineyard, — all of which for the time 
 means to come into the Sunday school. No stress 
 is laid upon qualification. On the contrary, dis- 
 qualification does not seem to be taken into tiie 
 account. In fact, nothing but impiety seems to be 
 recognized as a disqualification. If a man has the 
 love of God in his soul, it is presupposed that he 
 can assume and successfully maintain one of the 
 most difficult positions in the world ; and if he 
 should be reluctant to assume it, it is more than 
 hinted that his faith needs inspection. The con- 
 sequence is, that some good man, of tender con- 
 science, but no great breadth of views, — desirous 
 above all things that the world should be reformed 
 and renewed, but with a rather vague idea of the 
 modus operandi^ — ignorant of the science and in- 
 experienced in the art of teaching, but fearful of 
 grieving the Holy Spirit and discouraging his min- 
 
16 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 ister, — mistakes the voice of God in liis soul for 
 the temptings of the Devil, and takes upon himself 
 the charge of eight or nine bright-eyed, wide- 
 awake, fun-loving boys. He enters upon his duties 
 with painstaking devotion. He prepares his lessons 
 carefully. He prays over them. He is punctual 
 and constant in his attendance ; but, in spite of all 
 his efforts, his boys harass his very soul. Some- 
 times the spirit of unrest enters into them, and they 
 are full of " quips and cranks and wanton wiles." 
 Again, they seem to undergo a transformation the 
 moment they enter the class, and, from intelligent, 
 lively lads, become mute, heavy, stolid lumps. It 
 is a pitiable sight. Both sides are to be pitied, 
 neither blamed. Human nature is particularly 
 strong in boys, and they cannot be interested un- 
 less there is something to interest them ; but hu- 
 man nature is also strong in teachers, and they can- 
 not interest if they have not the power. The boys 
 and the man were not meant for class and teacher. 
 The two parts do not tally. The wheels move in 
 opposite directions, and the works are at a stand- 
 still. This is not the way to do things. The Jes- 
 uits knew better than to squander power thus. 
 They recognized the eternal fitness of things. 
 They selected the man for the place, and the place 
 for the man. Let us do the same. There is no 
 good, there is infinite harm, in attempting to put 
 all upon a dead level. It is a fact that a man needs 
 certain qualifications to be a teacher, just as much 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 17 
 
 as he does to be a doctor or a lawyer. The teacher 
 is born, and not made. All the learning of the col- 
 leges, all the training of the normal schools, I might 
 add, all the piety of the churches, will not supply 
 the place of — hiack. Without this, one may com- 
 mand the respect of men, but he cannot secure the 
 attention of boys ; and to be a good teacher, a man 
 must not only secure the attention of his scholars, 
 he must possess himself of them body and soul. 
 
 True, the greatest genius is often obscured by 
 over-sensitiveness, and belief in one's own inability 
 is not infallible. Those who have been most suc- 
 cessful in a great work have often shrunk from 
 entering upon it. That, however, only makes vigi- 
 lance the more necessary on the part of those who 
 select workers in any department. It does not 
 countenance an indiscriminate demand upon all 
 for all departments, or for any department. 
 
 True, also, that out of the mouths of babes and 
 sucklings God perfects praise, but that is no man- 
 ner of reason why we should set up babes and 
 sucklings for our preachers and teachers. They 
 perfect praise where God has placed them, in the 
 nursery ; and many a woman will perfect praise 
 in her household, and many a man in his count- 
 ing-room, when, if you wrest them from their 
 appropriate spheres, and plant them in a lecture- 
 room before fifty or five hundred people, or in a 
 Sunday school in front of a dozen children, they 
 will perfect only platitudes. 
 
18 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 I know that God chooses the weak thmo^s of this 
 world to confound the things that are mighty, but 
 that is no reason why we should. He knows what 
 he is doing. He has a broader horizon than we. 
 He sees farther and clearer. Strong and weak are 
 earthly terms. In the apparently feeblest engine 
 there are hidden forces, — hidden from us, but pal- 
 pable to the eye of Omniscience, and only waiting 
 his command to leap into mightiest action. This 
 one thing is certain. He never fails. He never 
 chooses agents too weak to accomplish his purposes. 
 His causes are always proportioned to his designed 
 effects. His means are always exactly adapted to 
 his ends. That is all one desires the Church to 
 do, — as nearly as may be to adapt means to ends. 
 But so long as we are human, and therefore forced 
 to judge from appearances, let us strive to balance 
 weight with power. Let us elect the brawniest 
 arm to strike down the stubbornest foe, and the 
 softest hand to bind up the sorest wound. 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way, 
 His wonders to perform." 
 
 Mysterious to us, but doubtless perfectly logical 
 to him. Let us be logical too, and see that our 
 premises are correct before we confidently antici- 
 pate a conclusion. Trust in God is a nullity, if 
 the powder is not dry. 
 
 I know that men and women whose bodily pres- 
 ence is weak, and whose speech contemptible, have 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 19 
 
 consecrated alike their weakness and their strength 
 to God, have taken up the cross in Sabbath school 
 and conference-room, and have brought down bless- 
 ings on themselves and their neighbors. So your 
 little girl comes to you, '' Papa, Mamy has made 
 you a purse to put your cents in " ; and she holds 
 up to your eyes an astonishing specimen of needle- 
 work, a bit of brown cambric with sprawling, zig- 
 zag white stitches of variable lengths and indepen- 
 dent directions, twisted into an indescribable shape, 
 but with a palpable hole in the corner where the 
 cents are to go in. You take the little sewino;- 
 machine in your arms, smother her with caresses, 
 and say : *' Yes, it is a beautiful purse. Papa must 
 kiss every one of the little fingers that made it. 
 Just see the cents go in. There now, papa will 
 put it in this drawer, and when he wants any cents 
 'he will find them in the little purse that Mamy 
 made " ; — and Mamy jumps down and runs away, 
 her little heart just as brimfiil of happiness as if 
 she had indeed bestowed upon you the purse of 
 Fortunatus. 
 
 Just so, I think God, our Father, in his infinite 
 love to us, in his boundless, sympathizing tender- 
 ness, receives the work of our hands, according to 
 the love which prompted, and not according to the 
 skill that wrou2;ht. Blessed be his name for ever 
 and ever that he does so ; otherwise where should 
 we appear ? And if the sole result desired were 
 the beneficent effect produced upon specific in- 
 
20 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 dividuals, perhaps this kind of cross would some- 
 times be as effectual as any. But there is a 
 work to be done. Growth in grace is not the 
 only object of life. A soul's salvation is the salva- 
 tion of but one soul, and there are millions. Let 
 us economize our forces, — economize, I say, not 
 squander or hoard, not cast before swine nor 
 hide under a bushel. There are mountains to be 
 levelled, ravines to be bridged, valleys to be filled 
 up, rivers to be spanned, causeways to be built, 
 before the way is prepared for Christ's coming, — 
 and we are to do it. Surely it can best be done 
 by giving to each man what he can do best. Let 
 one have the commissariat, one disburse the funds, 
 one collect the revenue, one arrange the work, one 
 instruct the ignorant, one wield the spade, one smite 
 the anvil ; and when each one thus does with his 
 might the real work which his hand has found to 
 do, then shall the cry go up consistently, heartily, 
 effectually, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." 
 
 Personal conversation on religious topics, or, to 
 be more specific, personal appeals to those who do 
 not profess to be Christians, is a matter of so much 
 importance and so much difficulty, that I may be 
 pardoned for following it a little further. I have 
 been already asked, whether I do not think pro- 
 fessing Christians are greatly deficient in tKe mat- 
 ter of making " personal appeals," and whether I 
 should not regret giving comfort to the Chris- 
 tian who goes on from week to week, and from 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 21 
 
 month to month, and from year to year, with- 
 out once speaking of his own love to Christ, or 
 commending his rehgion by word, as well as by 
 example, to those around him. 
 
 If common sense were brought to bear on this 
 matter, I should answer both questions in the 
 affirmative far more unhesitatingly than I am now 
 able to do ; but, so far as I have observed, com- 
 mon sense is very largely dispensed with. What 
 I mean is, that we do not talk about religion as 
 we talk about politics, literature, or art. Religious 
 conversation, as a great many of us conduct it, is 
 formidable, and the wonder to me is, not that so 
 many shrink from it, but that so many can be found 
 who dare to grasp so unwieldy a weapon. Ob- 
 serve a party of us, — sound orthodox people, in a 
 bright, cheerful parlor. We are merry, gay, social, 
 piquant, lively ; till a " revival " is broached, or 
 the state of the Church, or something else of the 
 kind, when immediately a change ensues. We 
 look steadfastly solemn ; our faces elongate ; our 
 voices assume an indescribable tone, — something 
 between a sigh and a moan. All vivacity, spright- 
 liness, originality, die out. A stranger would take 
 Christianity to be a very doleful affair. 
 
 Why should we do so ? Why, becoming re- 
 ligious, should we cease to be natural ? Why 
 should we walk in a treadmill of set words and 
 phrases, — forms which were indeed instinct with 
 life to those who originated them, but to us, too 
 
22 THE FITNESS OF THIXGS. 
 
 often, meaningless and cold, — the dead husk with- 
 out the kernel ? Let us adopt a more excellent 
 way ; let us talk of religion as we talk of other 
 things, — naturally, heartily, vigorously, — saying 
 what we mean in our own tongue wherein we 
 w^ere born. Let us not set up a bugbeai', and then 
 blame timid people for being scared. 
 
 You have seen little children play at being 
 grown up. You know what demure airs they put 
 on ; nothing can equal the sobriety, the gravity, 
 the unmitigated sternness, the unbending severity, 
 of their deportment. We laugh, not because they 
 are such clever imitations, but such charmingly 
 ridiculous caricatures, of ourselves. Just so, it 
 seems, the angels must have many a laugh at our 
 expense ; for, ceasing to be human, we do not be- 
 come angelic, any more than the little ones become 
 men and women when they cease to be children. 
 Putting off the natural, we do not put on the 
 supernatural, but rather a nondescript garment 
 suited neither to heaven nor earth, — a decided 
 and measured mournfulness, that would be ridicu- 
 lous if it were not harmful. It was all very well 
 for the mornincr stars to sincr toijether, and all the 
 sons of God to shout for joy ; but you find no 
 such irregular proceeding among New England 
 Puritan Pilgrim-Father Orthodox Christians. 
 
 I suppose we shall all be considerably surprised, 
 when we get to heaven, at finding things there 
 different from what we expected ; but it seems to 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 23 - 
 
 me that some will be a good deal more surprised 
 than others. 
 
 We ought at all times, but especially wlien we 
 are conversing on religious topics, to banish the 
 cast-iron, daguerrotype look from our faces. We 
 sometimes fancy that, because God looks at the 
 heart, he does not look at anything else. We have 
 positive proof that he does. The question to Cain 
 was not only, " Why art thou wroth ? " but, '' Why 
 is thy countenance fallen ? " A proud look is an 
 abomination to the Lord, as well as a lying tongue. 
 Moreover, the heart not only gives expression to 
 the face, but the expression of the face reacts on 
 the heart. Try to scold with a smile on your 
 lips, or kiss your baby with a frown on your 
 brow, and you will be convinced. It is almost 
 impossible to feel cross while you are looking 
 pleasant, or disconsolate while you are looking 
 cheerfiil. So with the voice ; let it be natural, 
 soft, not pitched on a high key, nor whining, nor 
 melancholy. There is nothing in the Bible which 
 requires Christians to be sad. The religion of 
 Jesus wears no sombre hue. On the contrary, 
 the Scriptures continually teach us, by precepts 
 and examples, to rejoice evermore, to joy in God 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ. Who, indeed, 
 shall be happy, if not those who have jilaced 
 all their hope and their faith, all their })resent 
 and all their future, in the hands of Omnipotent 
 Love ? 
 
24 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 There will of course be occasions when the ut- 
 most solemnity of voice and look is alone fitting. 
 I deprecate the flippancy and thoughtlessness with 
 which the most terrible denunciations of the New 
 Testament are sometimes uttered, as much as I do 
 the lugubrious cadences with which its sweetest 
 and tenderest promises are pronounced. What is 
 objectionable is the one aspect put on for all occa- 
 sions, whether warning the careless, or directing 
 the inquiring, or comforting the desponding, or 
 instructing the ignorant, or congratulating each 
 other on the wonderful works of God. What is 
 desirable is, that the tone and manner and expres- 
 sion shall be dictated by the love or faith or fear 
 or hope or sorrow of the heart, and not by an out- 
 side conventionality. 
 
 Another suggestion is, that we should not draw 
 so exact a boundary line between religious and 
 secular topics. We fence off our Christianity, 
 and deem it meet to drape ourselves in ghostly 
 garb when we enter the sacred enclosure. Of 
 course, young Christians, and old Christians too, 
 judge that there must be something very grand 
 and awful to demand all this pomp and circum- 
 stance, and they exceedingly fear and quake. It 
 is not so. Religion is not a thing that must be 
 veiled from vulgar gaze, and watched and guarded 
 lest it be profaned. It is itself a purifier, conse- 
 crating everything that is brought into contact 
 with it. It is not a garment to be worn carefully 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 25 
 
 lest it be soon destroyed. Rather is it the living 
 skin, constantly renewed, growing w^th the growth 
 of bone and muscle and nerve. It is not a tank 
 whose waters must be economized lest the supply 
 fail, but a fountain springing the purer from being 
 drawn for all humble, daily uses. It is no electri 
 fied manikin, shrivelling at a touch into insensate 
 shapelessness. It is itself the very electric prin- 
 ciple that vitalizes and animates all. It is a vigor- 
 ous, hardy growth, not a frail house-plant ; there- 
 fore bring it out into the air. From shade and 
 shine, from storm and rain, from dew and frost, 
 it will only gather strength. Let the winds rock 
 it ; it will strike its roots deeper into the earth. 
 Let the sun beat upon it ; it will only robe itself 
 in denser green, and bourgeon in gayer hues. Time 
 can but toughen its fibres, broaden its branches, 
 circle its sturdy trunk with signal rings, till the 
 tender shoot is become a worshipful oak, and sing- 
 ing birds lodge in the branches thereof, and men 
 sit under its shadow with great delio-ht. 
 Therefore use your religion. Use it 
 
 " without stint or spare, 
 As men use common things, with more behind ; 
 And in this ever 4>ould be more behind." 
 
 Strive to get acquainted with God. Be rever- 
 ently familiar with him. Do not confine your 
 knowledge of him to his aspect as God the 
 Judge, or God the Saviour, though that may be 
 the grandest of all, and may receive your highest 
 
 2 
 
26 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 adoration and your warmest love. Study his 
 ways in the continuous revelation of his works, 
 as well as in the crystallized revelation of his 
 word. See God the artist, in the sunsets that 
 gild the evening sky ; God the machinist, in the 
 mechanism of your own body ; God the benefactor, 
 in the wonderful laws of ice ; God the chemist, in 
 the laboratories of earth and air ; God the histo- 
 rian, in the record of the rocks ; God the builder, 
 in the mountains which he has piled up to heaven. 
 See God, too, in the thousand little happinesses 
 that cluster about your daily life. It is God who 
 makes the outgoing of your morning and your 
 evening to rejoice, just as truly as it is God who 
 spake the world into being. It is God who folds 
 you in happy sleep at night, just as much as it is 
 God who sent his Son to die for you. God speaks 
 to you in the song that trembles into your heart 
 from the lips you love, just as truly as he speaks 
 to you in the voice of his thunders. Warning the 
 impenitent is our chief idea of religious conversa- 
 tion, whereas it is only one topic in a worldful. 
 Let it have its due place, and it will be less 
 dreaded. Let us talk to our little ones of God 
 just as we talk to them of their father. Let 
 Christ-love and mother-love grow up together in 
 their hearts. Learn to think God. Be full of 
 God ; and out of the abundance of the heart the 
 mouth will speak. One reason why we find it 
 so hard to talk of God is that we live so far from 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 27 
 
 him. We worship him, but it is a great way off; 
 and he would be nigh, even at our own doors. 
 He is there. Recognize him. Not only before 
 the gate of the sinner does Christ stand w^aiting. 
 It is at your door, O my brother, that he knocks. 
 Open it and let him in. Take him to your 
 heart. Believe in him. Crown him King there, 
 at the centre of your life, and all the outposts 
 are his. 
 
 There will always, probably, be more or less re- 
 luctance, hesitation, diffidence, in conversing about 
 matters wliich pertain to the inner life. Facts are 
 easily discussed, but feelings are evasive. Many 
 a man can give you a full, clear, and accurate 
 account of the state of his business, who, if set to 
 work to develop the state of his mind and heart, 
 will stammer, repeat, blunder, and finally fail alto- 
 gether of his end. You have, I dare say, often 
 heard of people who " could talk about anything 
 but religion," or about religion in its external and 
 organic aspects, such as churches, benevolent soci- 
 eties, councils, etc., but as soon as you began to 
 speak of experimental religion, their mouths were 
 shut ; and this fact is generally stated in a manner 
 that implies reproof, — implies that the reason why 
 they say nothing is because they have nothing to 
 say. It is a subject upon which they have no 
 thoughts and in which they feel no interest. 
 
 This may be true. Undoubtedly it often is 
 true ; but let us hope and believe that it is not 
 
28 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 always so. There are whited sepulchres, fair in 
 outward seeming, — within, full of dead men's 
 bones and all uncleanness ; but there are also no- 
 ble houses, reared by wealth and art, beautiful 
 without, but more beautiful within for the love and 
 faith and trust, the thousand household virtues, 
 the manifold nameless tendernesses, that make 
 of every hearth an altar, of every home a heaven. 
 There are mirages which reveal to the eye of the 
 thirsty traveller the sparkle of waters tliat he shall 
 never reach, — the greenness of trees under whose 
 shade his weary limbs shall never rest ; but there 
 are also oases where the stately palm yields her 
 fatness, and living springs gush forth healing and 
 strength. 
 
 So there may be men in the Church, but not of 
 it, who adhere to the organization, obey its laws, 
 contribute to its support, frequent its sanctuaries, 
 and call its members brethren, who yet can never 
 speak of the love of God, because, deceiving or 
 deceived, their dry, dead bones have never been 
 vitalized by that love ; but may there not also be 
 men, just as exemplary in conduct, just as chary 
 of words, who have in their secret souls that well 
 of water which shall spring up into everlasting 
 life ? 
 
 For religion is of the spirit. True, it spreads 
 its broad and fruitful branches over the whole life ; 
 but its roots go deep down into the heart, there, in 
 silence and darkness, unheard, unseen, to suck in 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 29 
 
 the vital juices wl]ich are to supply its nourishment 
 and further its growth. It may develop itself in 
 churches and charities and exhortations and pray- 
 ers, but its spring is in the heart. There it works 
 in loving tenderness, in sweet repentance, in saint- 
 ly sorrow, in heaven-born aspirations, — and a 
 stranger intermeddleth not with its joy. 
 
 Is it not so ? Can it not be so ? Must silence 
 always indicate vacuity ? Plow do we judge in 
 other cases ? When a man loves a woman with a 
 love that conquers life, does he tell her of it in well- 
 turned periods ? Is lie ready and fluent whenever 
 occasion offers or does not ofter ? Does he not 
 rather deal in broken sentences and deHcious si- 
 lences ? Do you not even go so far as to suspect 
 the love that harangues in elegant metaphors, with 
 faultless rhetoric, — that always has the right word 
 in the right place ? And if lips are sometimes 
 sealed when a human love is strong, can you not 
 believe, and, since it is your brother whom you are 
 judging, will you not believe, that Christ-love may 
 also consist therewith, — that the silence may come 
 solely from the reluctance of the heart to discover 
 its own secret workings ? This may be only one 
 of many causes that contribute to the same result ; 
 but if it is one, it ought not to be left out of the 
 account. 
 
 Since this sensitiveness is a natural quality, we 
 cannot destroy it if we would, and we would not if 
 we could. It may hinder and sometimes prevent 
 
so THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 free communion, but it has its w»ork to do. It is, 
 therefore, to be managed, not defied, or overborne. 
 It follows that real interchano;e of feelino; on rehs;- 
 ious topics obeys the same laws that interchange of 
 feeling on other topics does. In its outward mani- 
 festations, in its practical and wise benevolences, 
 the Church can band together. In all social and 
 kindly offices, its members should prove to them- 
 selves and show to the world how Christians love 
 one another. They are baptized into one name, 
 moved by a common love, bound by a common 
 vow. They should be real " brothers in unity." 
 But further than this they are not required to 
 go. Friendship, confidential outpourings, the ex- 
 osmose and endosmose of souls, is a matter of 
 magnetism, not of morals or religion. Respect is 
 awarded to worth ; excellence wins esteem ; but 
 
 " Our likings and dislikings 
 Have their own instinctive laws." 
 
 Church-members, like others, will group them- 
 selves unconsciously, according to hidden organism. 
 Money or learning or " high birth " does not decide 
 it, but internal construction. One man is indif- 
 ferent to circumstances, and can unbosom himself 
 without regard to time or place. Another must 
 enter into his closet and shut the door. That 
 closet may indeed be the solitude of his own study, 
 •or the circle of his chosen friends, or the place 
 where heavy-laden souls cry out for weariness, or 
 Christian hands, prayer-burdened, lay hold on God ; 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 31 
 
 but wherever it is, it must be in the atmosphere 
 where alone his soul can live, and move, and have 
 its being. It is useless to demand or expect oth- 
 erwise, and he who does so knows little of human 
 nature. 
 
 Therefore, if a brother is silent when you would 
 fain have him moved to speech, think it not always 
 because he is not a Christian, but sometimes simply 
 because he is not you. You choose your own 
 time and place. Grant him the same liberty. 
 
 This sensitiveness works in two ways. It not 
 only restricts Christian intercourse, but it renders 
 necessary the utmost watchfulness in deahng with 
 those who are not Christians. Here, alas ! we 
 often fail. We are not delicate and wise in our 
 modes of operation. It does not hurt a drum to be 
 beaten, but a harp gives up its soul of sweetness to 
 the touch of dimpled fingers. Some hearts are all 
 out-doors, and some are a labyrinth in which, un- 
 less you get a clew-thread, you may grope forever 
 without discovering the secret chamber where the 
 Presence sits enthroned. Therefore be wary, be 
 vigilant, be wise. Feel your way. Do not fire 
 your shots at random. Your object is not — ought 
 not to be — to discharge or exhibit your revolver, 
 or to show that you can pull a trigger. It is to do 
 execution, — to bring down the foe that is leading a 
 soul captive. Take aim before you shoot ; other- 
 wise your charge may go crashing in among heart- 
 strings, and still their quivering forever. 
 
32 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 " Be instant in season and out of season," is an 
 injunction that has been sadly misunderstood and 
 misapplied. There are good people — the Lord 
 reward their unselfish seeking, and not visit their 
 blunders upon the heads of their victims ! — who 
 fancy it to mean that " personal appeals " are al- 
 ways in order. I knew a woman, bearing now, I 
 doubt not, a new name among the angels, who, 
 feeling it her duty to admonish her neighbors of 
 theirs, and not being endowed with a nice sense of 
 the fitness of things, used to startle her friends by 
 the most unexpected forays. If, at a social gath- 
 ering, she saw a person in whose salvation she was 
 interested, the presence of one, two, or a dozen 
 others was no obstacle to exhortation. " Dear 
 Mr. A., won't you seek religion? Promise me that 
 you will seek religion." I have heard a person, 
 whose own heart w^as full of love to the Saviour, 
 ask a young lady sitting next him, at a dinner-par* 
 ty, if she did not find great consolation in the doc- 
 trine of the resurrection of the body. It is unne- 
 cessary to multiply instances. All the way along, 
 we more or less waste our strength by smiting 
 when the iron is cold. Yet we might learn a bet- 
 ter lesson every day. The children of this world 
 are wiser in their generation than the children of 
 light ; and the children of light are often wiser 
 about everything else than about the light itself. 
 When your little three-year old trips, night- 
 gowned and barefooted, into your room in the 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 33 
 
 morning, and climbs up into your bed, and begins 
 forthwith to plan and execute surprising excursions, 
 planting his heel upon your throat, and his fist on 
 your nose, plumping himself down at irregular in- 
 tervals, entirely oblivious of paternal sensations, 
 you hardly undertake then to imbue his mind with 
 quiet, loving, religious thoughts. His little soul, 
 fresh from long, dreamless sleep, is wide awake. 
 Every nerve and fibre of his body is quivering with 
 life, and harnessed for action. So, if you are sen- 
 sible, you tumble him over, and roll him about, 
 and punch him, and knead him, and tickle him, 
 till he screams with delighted laughter. But when 
 he has danced away the summer day, and goes to 
 his mother, tired, happy, and subdued, she takes 
 him in her arms, and tells him 
 
 " That sweet story of old, 
 How Jesus appeared among men," 
 
 and with the music of divine love murmured into 
 his ear from lips that are only not divine, the blue 
 eyes film, the silken lashes droop, and the child- 
 soul wanders off into the land of sleep ; but the 
 human and divine, woven together in his heart 
 forevermore shall, through all the years that are to 
 come, preserve his eyes from tears, his feet from 
 falling, and his soul from death. 
 
 If you do not learn it from your course towards 
 your child, you may learn it from his tow^ards you ; 
 and I often think that children have a certain 
 2* c 
 
34 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 fresh, instinctive knowledge of human nature that 
 after years incrust and destroy. When you are 
 waiting in your half-warmed breakfast-room, impa- 
 tient of delay, and anxious to be gone to your of- 
 fice, your boy amuses himself as best he can ; it is 
 w^hen you sit by your evening fire in dressing-gown 
 and slippers, in happy quietude, that he wriggles 
 up your knee, sits astride your lap, and says confi- 
 d»3ntly, '^ Noiv^ papa, tell me a story." 
 
 All the way from infancy to old age, if we wish 
 to make an impression on hearts, we must take 
 hearts when they are open to impression. I do not 
 attempt to give, and I do not think there is, any 
 specific rule. Every man is constructed upon a 
 different basis, and must work and be worked after 
 his kind. Some it may be well to meet breast- 
 wise, with full front, breaking in upon their ab- 
 sorbing business, or pleasure, or madness, with a 
 " Thus saith the Lord." Others will be moved by 
 a loving word, a tender inquiry, a gentle sugges- 
 tion, as you walk home with them on a summer 
 evening. You must be the judge of where and 
 how, hxxt judge. Do not follow a blind impression 
 that you are to make home-thrusts right and left, 
 without regard to time or place. Do not fancy, 
 as an excellent woman w^hom I knew seemed to do, 
 that your social, religious duty is discharged when 
 you have put to every person you meet the ques- 
 tion, " How do you feel in your mind " ? The 
 human heart remains ever an unsolved and in- 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. Bo 
 
 solvable problem. Only by careful study and un- 
 ceasing prayer — self-work and God-help — can 
 you begin to take its measurement. The cure 
 of souls is no trifling matter, to be entered upon 
 as impulse may direct. The bow drawn at a 
 venture may send an arrow quivering in between 
 the joints of the armor, felling a foe to earth ; but 
 also it may drain the life-blood of a friend. Your 
 random "appeal" may be the savor of life unto 
 life ; but unless you have made it judiciously, 
 you have no right to expect it to be anything 
 but of death unto death. Of course I do not 
 mean anything so absurd as that you must never 
 speak to a friend on matters that pertain to per- 
 >sonal religion, unless you have carefully weighed 
 beforehand all the circumstances, and deliber- 
 ately chosen to do it thus and so. I would have 
 you, rather, like the skilful general, who, indeed, 
 plans his campaign beforehand with painful care, 
 but is guided in carr^^ing out its details by the 
 movements of the enemy, marching and counter- 
 marching, as best he may baffle his wary foe. 
 The unpremeditated onset is often the most bril- 
 liant and successful ; but its very brilliancy and 
 success are due, in large measure, to the skill 
 that watched and the patience that waited. 
 
 Grasp the opportunity. Make one if you can ; 
 but be a little careful that it is an opportunity. 
 Watch. It will not be long. " God's occasions '* 
 are constantly " drifting by.'* 
 
36 THE FITNESS OF THINGS, 
 
 Do you say that I have put hons in the way ? 
 Not at all. They we^^^e there before. I have only 
 tried to point out one or two, that you may be on 
 your guard. It is a fearful thing to live. We do 
 not half enough feel it. We walk lightly among 
 eternities. We he down and rise^ up, we go out 
 and come in, we smile or frown, we utter a brief 
 good morning, we look a look of love, we smile a 
 smile of hope, we breathe a word of prayer, we 
 pass by on the other side, and a soul plumes its 
 wings for heaven, or plunges into the depths, and 
 we know it not. 
 
 Who is sufficient for these things ? God. With 
 him our v/eakness is strength. Without him our 
 strength is weakness. We are instruments in his 
 hands. It is for him to use us. It is for us to lend 
 ourselves to his uses, — joyfully, jubilantly, entirely, 
 with infinite blessing to ourselves, or reluctantly, 
 grudgingly, lazily, to our final and infinite dismay. 
 
 It is far more trouble to think and plan and 
 contrive how best we may serve God, by most 
 wisely directing lost and wandering souls back to 
 him, than it is to push thoughtlessly forward with- 
 out reflection, or investigation, or ever going below 
 the surface of things. But what else are you liv- 
 ing for ? What would your farm and your mer- 
 chandise avail you, if your only son, the heir of 
 your name and fame and fortune, were doomed 
 to hopeless captivity ? What shall it profit a man 
 if he gain the whole world and let slip his brother's 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 37 
 
 soul ? For if a man love not his brother whom he 
 hath seen, how shall he love God whom he hath 
 not seen ? And what lazy love is this that w^ill 
 throw out a rope to his sinking brother, but will 
 not take the trouble to see whether it be long 
 enough to reach him, or strong enough to bear 
 him? 
 
 By using a little tact in the " cure of souls," our 
 work becomes not only more agreeable, but more 
 pleasant. If you talk to a man at a fitting time 
 and in a natural way, not with routine and for- 
 mality, not simply from a cold sense of duty, not 
 with a desire to proselyte him, nor pharisaically, — 
 but out of the depths of a loving heart, yearning 
 over the spirits that are in prison, longing to loose 
 the bands of the oppressor, and to guide the wan- 
 derer to Christ, — in ninety-nine cases out of a 
 hundred, you will, I believe, meet not only courte- 
 sy and kindness, but the sincerest gratitude. This, 
 indeed, is not essential, but it is pleasant. Duty 
 ought to be followed up to the mouth of the cannon 
 that has powder and a chain-shot inside, and a 
 fusee scattering sparks outside ; but it is neither 
 religion nor morality nor courage to go there 
 from sheer love of the heads, trunks, and limbs 
 out of which glory is inferred by the historian. A 
 duty is not to be shirked because it is disagreeable : 
 but if it can be made agreeable, by all means make 
 it so. It is a fine thing to be persecuted for right- 
 eousness' sake. It strengthens and toughens and 
 
38 THE FITNESS OF' THINGS. 
 
 develops the soul. We reverence the heroism that 
 would be sawn asunder, slain with the sword, wan- 
 der about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, in deserts 
 and mountains and dens and in caves of the earth, 
 yet, strong in faith, would not deny the Lord. But 
 we have very little of that kind of persecution ; 
 ours comes in a mild form, and we rather en- 
 joy it. In fact, except among sound orthodox 
 Christians, there is not much persecution in these 
 latter times. We like to flatter ourselves that 
 there is. We like to fancy ourselves bearing a 
 cross, because it enables us to claim the crown. 
 Young people, who have just begun to think upon 
 their ways and to turn their feet to the testimo- 
 nies of the Lord, read of the ciniel mockings and 
 scoiirgings recorded in the New Testament, and, 
 forgetting that they are not living in Rome in the 
 days of Nero, exliort each other to courage and 
 constancy after the manner of Paul and the early 
 Christians. If you bring them to the point, — in-! 
 sisting that they explain definitely what they mean, 
 — they will probably conclude that they refer to 
 the scorn, ridicule, contumely, or coldness " of 
 the world." Even of this, however, there is 
 veiy little in New England. I dare say a good 
 many of my young readers will be considerably 
 shocked at hearing it ; but it is true. Religion 
 here walks in silver slippers. It is, on the whole, 
 appreciably more respectable to be within than 
 without the pale of the Church. I have been 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 39 
 
 amused to hear young men counsel each other at 
 prayer-meetings not to fear the jeers of the world, 
 when their world was composed of an overwhelm- 
 ing majority of at least nominal Christians, — 
 when their certificate of church-membership was, 
 if not a passport, at least a recommendation to the 
 " best society " and the most lucrative clerksliips. 
 It would be very strange if it were otherwise. Our 
 young people, and our old people too, make the 
 mistake of applying to our own state of society 
 facts* which are true only of other and far different 
 ones. Would it not be singular, if the descendants 
 of the Puritans had thus early so far cast off the 
 faith and practice of their fathers, as that society 
 generally should hold in contempt all that they held 
 in reverence ? We may have degenerated, but not 
 with such rapid strides. We have softened the 
 harsher outlines of a stern belief, rendering it, we 
 hope, more effective ; but we have as yet by no 
 means discarded it, substituting therefor devices 
 of our own. Many foreign influences are at 
 work, and many foreign elements have been in- 
 troduced, — some for good, some for evil ; but the 
 basis is unchanged. There may be places — 
 cities, towns, villages — where religion is despised, 
 but I have never seen them. The great mass 
 of intelligent people in our. land — which is the 
 great mass of the people — treat Christianity 
 with outward respect. I can go further, and 
 say that I never knew a truly humble, devout, 
 
40 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 sensible, consistent Christian ridiculed on account 
 of his Christianity, except in a few religious 
 newspapers and Sunday-school books. I have 
 been surprised to see the respect paid to religion 
 by those who made no pretensions to it them- 
 selves. 
 
 It is true that inconsistent Christians do get a 
 good many hard hits ; and as most of us are more 
 or less inconsistent, it follows that most of us have 
 to wince occasionally, but we have no right to com- 
 plain. It may not be kind or chivalrous in* the 
 hitter, but, if we present a vulnerable point to the 
 foe, we must expect him to take advantage of it. 
 We flatter our self-love that we are following the 
 footsteps of the martyrs, when we are but stum- 
 bling along by-paths of our own. It is not our 
 Christianity, but our inconsistency, that is laughed 
 at, as it richly deserves, and may consider itself let 
 off lightly at that. When our efforts for others 
 are received with ridicule, ten to one it is because 
 we go to work in a ridiculous way. I do not say 
 this harshly or reproachfully. It is a simple state- 
 ment of fact. Some of us are naturally absurd. 
 We take hold of things in general the wrong way. 
 Some of us are only partially absurd. Let us 
 acknowledge the fact good-naturedly, and if we 
 fail where we earnestly hoped to succeed, let us 
 consider whether it may not be due to the out- 
 cropping of our absurdity, as well as of another's 
 total depravity. When we enter the portals of the 
 
THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 41 
 
 cimrcli, we take our bundle of peculiarities with us. 
 So far as they are stumbling-blocks in other peo- 
 ples' paths, we ought to do all that we can to re- 
 move them ; which being done, we are guiltless. 
 But do not let us magnify them into religion, and 
 think the cause of Christ bound up in them. They 
 may be our fault ; they may be our misfortune. 
 In either case they are not our glory. 
 
 We confound incident with essence ; and the re- 
 sult is harmful. It is wrong, and wrong is always 
 harmful. It is unjust, and injustice works woe. 
 People are bad enough ; it does not conduce to 
 God's glory or their own good to make them out 
 any worse than they are. They have a sufficient 
 alacrity in sinning ; do not let us call that a sin 
 which is only a difference of taste. I once saw a 
 pious woman seem as much distressed because her 
 brother spoke lightly of the preaching faculty of a 
 certain minister, as if he had told a lie ; when the 
 fact was, that the minister, although the very salt 
 of the earth for goodness, — a burning and shining 
 light for all moral virtues and Christian graces, — 
 was an intolerable proser in the pulpit. Famine 
 itself could hardly obtain meat off the dry bones 
 of his theological disquisitions. Do you not see 
 that such a confounding of facts must have a ten- 
 dency to make a man desperate ? If you visit 
 upon mere difference of taste, or an acute sense of 
 the ridiculous, the reprobation which belongs only 
 to moral obliquity, — if you identify your weak- 
 
42 THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 
 
 nesses with Christ's strength, and consider a dart 
 aimed at one to be also and inevitably aimed at the 
 other, — you must not be surprised if he whom you 
 wish to serve and save, following your example, 
 falls into the same mistake, and the name of Christ 
 thereby suffers reproach. 
 
 Be careful, therefore, not to confound men with 
 principles, the religion of Christ with your ex- 
 emplification of it, the susceptibility of the mind 
 to various emotions with the " opposition of the 
 natural heart " to truth. Make the cause of Christ 
 always yours ; but do not suppose that your cause 
 must invariably be the cause of Christ. The shell- 
 fish and sea-weed that cling to the ship's keel are 
 not the ship. They are only obstacles to its pro- 
 gress. The heavy blows, the burning and scraping 
 and scouring, are only to clear them off. Nobody 
 is going to scuttle the ship. 
 
 In the world ye shall have tribulation, but the 
 tribulation of New England Christians in the year 
 1860 is from within rather than from without, — 
 it arises from our own sins rather than from the 
 sins of others. 
 
 Whoever wishes to work effectually for Christ 
 must put his armor on. It is no work for lazy 
 people. It needs the wisdom of the serpent, the 
 harmlessness of the dove, and the strength of the 
 lion. Let us watch for souls, as those that must 
 give account. 
 
III. 
 
 ORDINANCES. 
 
 "Let no man therefore judge you in meat, or in drink, or in respect of an 
 holyday, or of the new moon, or of the Sabbath days : which are a shadow of 
 things to come; but the body is of Christ." — Col. ii. 16, 17. 
 
 )E who are Congregationalists have 
 small reverence for the Apostolic 
 succession. We can hardly believe 
 that- virtue has been conducted over 
 an unbroken line of fingers eighteen centuries 
 long, and we are rather surprised at the credulity 
 of our Episcopal brethren. Yet we sometimes 
 pay ourselves, and demand from others, as great 
 a reverence for certain forms, as if those forms 
 had been intrusted to our keeping by the great 
 Head of the Church. We are as inconsistent as 
 we fancy " Churchmen " to be credulous. They 
 logically require reverence for what they believe 
 to be a true apostolic succession. We illogically 
 demand equal reverence for that for which we 
 claim only human origin. 
 
 I suppose the whole Protestant world is a unit 
 
44: ORDINANCES. 
 
 as regards tlie necessity and propriety of assem- 
 bling together on the first day of the week for the 
 purpose of worshipping God in a direct and espe- 
 cial manner. The teaching of Scripture, both by 
 precept and example, and the experience of the 
 Christian world, have shown that the social ele- 
 ment of man's religious nature needs this for its 
 adequate sustenance and generous growth. But 
 as to the particular manner in which this worship 
 shall be conducted, or the number of times that we 
 shall assemble ourselves together on Sunday, the 
 Scriptures do not give a distinct intimation, and 
 we acknowledge no other authority, — nor is there, 
 in fact, any unanimity of custom in the matter. 
 Many a New England village has, however, set- 
 tled the question as succinctly and definitely as 
 if it had consulted Urim and Thummim and re- 
 ceived response. Extemporaneous prayers ut- 
 tered by the clergyman alone, written sermons, 
 and choir-singing, — for quality, two church ser- 
 vices and Sunday school in the day-time, and 
 prayer-meeting in the evening, — for quantity. 
 The question of quality I do not now propose to 
 discuss, but let us examine a little this question of 
 quantity. 
 
 I have no right to reproach you for going to 
 church only once on Sunday, and you have no 
 right to reproach me for going four times. By 
 your one attendance you express your approbation 
 of, and your respect for, the institution, and by the 
 
ORDINANCES. 45 
 
 four, I express jast as much, and no more. You 
 uphold the ordinance just as powerfully as I. 
 The man who goes to a theatre twdce a year ex- 
 presses his opinion that the theatre is not a sin 
 per se, or confesses that, although a sin, it holds 
 out to him a temptation too strong to be resisted, 
 just as truly as he who goes to the theatre every 
 night. So the man who goes to church once on 
 Sunday, lifts up his voice in favor of church-going 
 just as loudly as he who goes four times. Thus 
 far they stand on the same ground. But the dif- 
 ference between them is this. The latter shows 
 by his repeated attendance that the kind of food 
 which he there receives is best adapted to his soul. 
 He can worship God better in the great congre- 
 gation than elsewhere. He can, for the time, 
 pray better with other men's lips than with his 
 own. He can praise better if other men "join 
 voices " in his praise. His soul can better grasp a 
 truth wdiich has passed through the alembic of 
 another man's soul, than one that presents itself 
 to him at first hand. His social nature is largely 
 developed. He craves companionship. His fer- 
 vor is not spontaneous, but communicated. His 
 heart strikes fire only when smitten by the thought 
 or feeling of another heart. His heat is developed 
 by friction. All this is natural to him, and right. 
 The church and the prayer-meeting are to him the 
 house of God and the very gate of heaven. There 
 he sees the angels ascending and descending. 
 
46 ORDINANCES. 
 
 There his faith and hope and love, wakened to 
 new life, bridge for him the finite and the infinite, 
 the present and the future, earth and heaven. 
 The communion of saints fills him with holy joy, 
 and as his reluctant feet turn lingeringly away, he 
 exclaims with rapture, " How amiable are thy 
 tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts ! " 
 
 The former shows with equal clearness that he 
 possesses a different organization. Other condi- 
 tions are more favorable to his growth in grace. 
 The savory meat that his soul loves cannot be 
 furnished him by the bow and quiver of Esau, 
 even though he be a mighty hunter before the 
 Lord. It comes to him in " saintly solitude." 
 From between the covers of musty books, the old 
 truths, ever fresh and ever young, spring up to * 
 meet him. Dry leaves exhale for him the sweet- 
 est odors. Old-time thoughts, still glowing with 
 the piety that conceived them, fragrant with aroma 
 caught from the thousands of hearts which they 
 visited with healing as they passed down the ages, 
 have for him a charm, a pungency, a power, which 
 the words of no living preacher possess. The 
 wisdom of the past girds him with wisdom for the 
 future. Among the heroes and martyrs of other 
 days he finds his fitting panoply. He puts the 
 new wine to his lips, but he feels that the old is 
 better. Or it may be that he finds Christ in field 
 and grove. He liears the voice of the Lord walk- 
 ing in the garden. A bird of the air carries the 
 
ORDINANCES. 47 
 
 message of love to liim. The brooks ripple it. 
 The winds murmur it. The waves sparkle it. 
 " Rock and tree and flowing water " are God's 
 messengers to him. Every harebell that swings 
 its purple cup to the summer breeze, every lily 
 that opens its white bosom to the evening dew, 
 every blade of grass that wrests a homely but vig- 
 orous hfe from the uncareful soil, are ministers of 
 God to him. He finds a gospel in the hum of the 
 bees, in the chirr of insects, in the busy, uncon- 
 scious happiness that stirs around him. God's 
 wisdom, God's providence, God's fatherliness, 
 meet him everywhere. Earth and sea and sky 
 are to him a harp of a thousand strings. Touched 
 by his tuneful hand they quiver into melody, and 
 every creature which is in heaven, and on the 
 earth, and under the earth, join the song, — the 
 voice of a great multitude, the voice of many 
 waters, the voice of mighty thmiderings, saying. 
 Alleluia ! The Lord God omnipotent reigneth. 
 Blessing and honor and glory and power be 
 unto him that sitteth on the throne, and unto 
 the Lamb, forever and ever. 
 
 So far all is right ; but when number one turns 
 on number two, or number two turns on number 
 one, and begins to rebuke him for his mode of 
 spending the Sabbath, all becomes wrong again. 
 Every man must decide as to the kind of food his 
 soul needs. His liberty is not to be judged of 
 another man's conscience. The gay canaiy-bird 
 
48 ORDINANCES. 
 
 pecks a dainty breakfast from its little cup of 
 seeds, and rings out full-throated thanks on the 
 morning air. The meek-eyed oxen crop the pur- 
 ple clover, and in its strength patiently bear the 
 burden and heat of the day. The oxen would 
 starve on the canary-seed, and all the clover in 
 the world would not supply to the bird the place 
 of its one little cup. 
 
 It is often true, I sorrowfully admit, that many 
 people who stop away from church are actuated 
 by no right motive. They not only do not wor- 
 ship God at church, but they do not worship him 
 anywhere. They are simply lazy and indifferent. 
 Their idea of rest is lounging. They doze away 
 the Sabbath day in profitless, and therefore harm- 
 ful idleness. 
 
 But also there are many constant attendants on 
 religious services whose course is guided by noth- 
 ing higher than habit. They have been brought 
 up in a certain way from infancy, and they never 
 think of doing otherwise. Others go for excite- 
 ment. Some will marvel at this, but when a man 
 has been digging potatoes or hoeing corn or 
 mending shoes for six days, it is a pleasant change 
 for him to put on his best coat and go to meeting 
 thrice on Sunday, and he feels as if he can hardly 
 get too much of it. Others do it for the sociality 
 of the thing. In the country villages, for a con- 
 siderable part of the year, it is the prmcipal oppor- 
 tunity that friends have of meeting each other, 
 
ORDINANCES. 49 
 
 exchanging kindly greetings, and displaying the 
 fine clothes which their own skill or industry has 
 procured. I do not say that these are wrong mo- 
 tives. I do not think they are. It is quite inno- 
 cent to take pleasure even In wearing a pretty 
 bonnet to church ; but it is only innocent. It is 
 not virtuous. It is not devout. It is not holy. 
 If it is not combined with some higher motive, 
 there Is a sin of omission, and the act of going to 
 church is no more religious than the act of eating 
 breakfast. Yet that such cases often occur, does 
 in no wise militate against church-going, nor dis- 
 prove the fact that there are devout worshippers 
 in every sanctuary, — men and women who go 
 there to call upon tlie name of the Lord. Just so 
 does the indifference and Irreliglon found in the 
 other class not prove that a man may not, in the 
 exercise of an enlightened judgment, absent 
 himself from the morning, afternoon, or evening 
 service, and yet be a man after God's own 
 heart. 
 
 So far, I have only desired to show that staying 
 away from a portion of the church services Is not 
 of itself a sin, and ought not to be considered a 
 presumption of irreliglon or indifference. 
 
 I now go further, and suggest whether this 
 wholesale church-going be not a hinderance to our 
 upward progress. Is It not sometimes allowed to 
 usurp the place of other duties ? If we went to 
 church less, could we not serve God more ? Do 
 
50 ORDINANCES. 
 
 we not make a kind of salve for our consciences, 
 soothing oui-selves for the neglect of other duties 
 by the punctual performance of this ? Is it not, 
 sometimes, a device of the enemy to take away 
 our attention from the real sin that is undermining 
 the foundations of our faith ? I would be very far 
 from wishing, even had I the power, to strike at 
 the root, or at the smallest opening bud, of any tree 
 whose leaves are for the healing of the nations ; 
 but there may be straggling or withered branches 
 that ought to be lopped off, and which no one hand 
 is strong; enough to do. It must be the work of 
 many, — all feeble, it may be, yet powerful in 
 union, and impelled by hearts that would fain gain 
 strength for themselves by helping other hearts to 
 bear their burdens. So I would speak of such a 
 matter with great diffidence, — rather in the form 
 of suggestion than of advice. I would not lift up 
 a rash, presumptuous hand against anything which 
 has contributed to the happiness and received the 
 sanction of millions. An old-time custom has al- 
 ways in itself somewhat venerable. The simple 
 fact that it is a custom, commends it to respect. 
 Anythmg that indicates and moulds character is 
 entitled, at least, to serious attention. Even if 
 wholly bad, we cannot forget that it emanated 
 from, and reacted upon, responsible immortal be- 
 ings, and we 
 
 " walk backward with averted gaze, 
 And hide its shame." 
 
ORDINANCES. 51 
 
 If it be good, we recognize and cherish it as a 
 mighty engine for truth. If it have outgrown the 
 occasion which gave it birth, or if it be, as is very- 
 common, partly good and partly evil, we lay it 
 aside reverently, or strive so to modify it that it 
 shall conduce only to highest ends. But we ought 
 not to let our reverence so far mislead our judg- 
 ment as to reftise to see the evil, or, seeing it, to 
 remove it. N^am consuetudo sine veritate vetustas 
 erroiis est, " Custom without truth is the old age 
 of error." If it is best for us all to spend the 
 greater part of Sunday in public religious services, 
 let us all do it. If it is best only for a part, let a 
 part only do it. If it is asserted that there is a 
 more excellent way, let us, as we love God and 
 our brother, examine that way before we decide 
 for or against it. Let us prove all things, holduig 
 fast only that which is good. 
 
 It seems to me that we put Sabbath-keeping 
 generally on too low ground. We call it duty 
 when it should be privilege. The Sabbath is a 
 feast, and not a fast. It is less a command than a 
 boon. It is granted to us, above and beyond being 
 imposed upon us. It is our great rest-day, given 
 us that we may not faint from overmuch weari- 
 ness. After a week's toil of body, or mind, or 
 both, God, in his fatherly love and tender care, 
 presses upon us this great gift that our souls may 
 live. He stays the sweeping tide that we may 
 take our soundings, reckon our latitude and Ion- 
 
52 ORDINANCES. 
 
 gitude, find where we are and wlilther we are 
 steering. In the dlzzynig whh'l of Hf'e we need 
 — O how greatly do we need, and how sorely 
 do we suffer without it ! — this regularly recurring 
 interval of quiet, that we may look gratefully back 
 over all the way which the Lord our God hath 
 led us, and trustfully forward through all the 
 future till the end come. 
 
 But often we baffle these designs. We spend 
 our Sunday in what I can call nothing but relig- 
 ious dissipation. We scarcely commune with 
 ourselves at all. We leave no time for it. We 
 live in public. We flit from service to service. 
 We listen with more or less attention to one, two, 
 three sermons, besides spending an hour or so in 
 Sunday schools. We fast during the week, gorg- 
 ing ourselves on Sunday. It seems to me nothing 
 more or less than a kind of theological cramming. 
 The result is, and must inevitably be, a spiritual 
 dyspepsia. The food we receive is ill-timed and 
 ill-measured, and nourishes a morbid or partial 
 growth. It goes but in small proportion to blood 
 and bone and sinew, — to strength and symmetry 
 and life. Much of it is as water spilt upon the 
 ground. The waste is immense. So our religion 
 lacks a well-proportioned development. It has a 
 tendency to go off into all manner of side issues, 
 instead of meeting the world, the flesh, and the 
 devil face to face, and putting them all to flight. 
 It runs to prayer-meetings and technicalities rather 
 
ORDINANCES. 53 
 
 than to right living. It is more concerned to keep 
 heretics out of the Church than to bring sinners 
 into Christ's fold. It sticks on to the outside of 
 our life instead of penetrating to the centre, pui'i- 
 fjing the heart. We set our religion here, and 
 our business there, stirring them together a little 
 occasionally ; whereas they should chemically 
 combine, forming a third substance, which is 
 neither the one nor the other, but infinitely bet- 
 ter than either, — namely, a Christian life. Paul 
 gives the recipe and the result. " Not slothful in 
 business. Fervent in spirit." This is " serving 
 the Lord." 
 
 The Sabbath is a rest-day, but change is rest. 
 We are just as much rested by standing after we 
 have been sitting a long while, as we are by 
 sitting after we have been standing. It is the 
 duty of every man to keep the Sabbath holy, but 
 the best way for him to keep it depends somewhat 
 on circumstances. Whether a certain course of 
 action will give him rest or not, depends upon 
 whether it will give him change. He must be the 
 judge. Every man must do that which is right 
 in his own eyes, subject to the "higher law." If 
 his business during the week is such as occupies 
 the body rather than the mind, then it will be not 
 only harmless, but beneficial, for him to keep 
 his mind at work on Sunday. The Sabbath- 
 school and prayer-meeting will give scope to fac- 
 ulties that mio;ht otherwise lang-uish from inaction. 
 
54 ORDINANCES. 
 
 The well-thought (whether or not well-written) 
 sermon will give him something to take hold of. 
 If it is a little knotty, abstruse, or unusual, so 
 much the better, provided it be tangible and port- 
 able. Behind the plough, on the bench, over the 
 anvil, he will straighten the tangled doctrine and 
 clear up the clouded truth. It is the quiet, med- 
 itative tenor of his daily life that enables him to 
 spend his Sabbath in profitable activity. 
 
 If, on the contrary, his business engrosses all 
 his energies, physical and mental, he needs quiet 
 on Sunday, — the song of praise to soothe, — the 
 voice of prayer to elevate, — the sermon to direct 
 his attention to other matters than his business, or 
 to his business fi^om a different and a higher stand- 
 point. The home circle, too, the society of wife 
 and child, 
 
 " The graces and the loves that make 
 The music of the march of life," 
 
 all have their ministry of salvation to him. They 
 soften and spiritualize the heart that would other- 
 wise grow hard from the very anxiety of its 
 affection. 
 
 We have, unhappily, yet not without reason, 
 contracted a distrust of natural religion, or the 
 religion that God reveals through nature. We 
 are afraid of it as if it were some insidious monster, 
 that must be strangled in its innocent-seeminy; 
 infancy, lest it attack and destroy our Christian 
 faith. I have heard young people warned against 
 
ORDINANCES. 55 
 
 it as a kind of hidden heresy and infidBhty ; 
 whereas, it seems to me that natural religion is 
 just as good as revealed rehgion, as far as it goes. 
 It does not, to be sure, go a long way. We 
 have something which goes a great deal farther. 
 Yet many nations in many ages have had nothing 
 else. It is not absolutely necessary to our sal- 
 vation, because we have a more sure word of 
 prophecy. Yet it is a help whereunto we shall 
 do well to take heed. It would be very wicked 
 and very weak — a crime and a blunder — for us 
 to turn away from the revelation of the Bible, 
 which is definite and explicit, to the revelation 
 of nature, which is in a degree vague and indis- 
 tinct ; but it is not only wise — it is the hio-Jiest 
 wisdom — to take the two together, to bring each 
 to the interpretation of the other. It would be ex- 
 tremely stupid for a man to go down cellar to live 
 because he had bought a pound of tallow candles. 
 It would also be somewhat stupid for him to re- 
 fuse ever to light his candles, because God has 
 furnished a sun. The only sensible way is to 
 take in with utmost grasp the rich, full, all-per- 
 vading sunshine, but, if thereby the ends of 
 charity and cheer can be better promoted, not 
 to despise the farthing candle at evening hour. 
 
 Natural religion is not Pantheism, — at least, 
 not the Pantheism that abrogates God, — not the 
 Pantheism that makes the creature coequal and . 
 coextensive with the Creator, — that confounds 
 
56 ORDINANCES. 
 
 the work and the worker. There is a true Pan- 
 theism, — to see God in all. That which would 
 fain have us take the vessel for Him that made it, 
 is a false Pantheism, if, indeed, it be not Atheism. 
 The blind and base confusion of the one is as far 
 removed from the enlightened adoration of the 
 other, as darkness is from light. The one is a 
 positive truth ; the other, a negative falsehood. 
 But because we reject the falsehood, we need not 
 reject the truth. "We are not to worship Nature, 
 since she is only God's handiwork ; but we ought 
 to revere her because she is his handiwork. 
 What God thought it worth his while to make, 
 it is certainly worth our while to examine. We 
 are losers if we do not. The Land and the Book 
 complement each other. The light of the Bible 
 thrown full upon the face of Nature brings out a 
 hidden loveliness that her priests and prophets, 
 groping without it, never saw; and when earth 
 and sea and sky shall have given up the secrets 
 which are in them, the holy words that are now 
 but a faint nebula of light will shine out full, 
 distinct, and clear, each 
 
 " A spotless star, a fixed, central sun 
 In the mind's heaven, unchangeable and one." 
 
 Yet we, learned and unlearned, are veiy heathen 
 in this matter. On the one side, we too often put 
 science in the place of God. We attribute events 
 to causes, forgetting the great First Cause. We 
 go back one step, and stand exulting in our knowl- 
 
ORDINANCES. 57 
 
 ^digQ^ as if wo had gone back to that divinel;^ 
 simple, yet inconceivable and fearful "in the 
 beginning." An apple falls, and we call it grav- 
 itation, and glory in the grand discovery, and 
 plume ourselves on our acuteness and our wisdom. 
 — as if we knew anything about gravitation, except 
 that it is. One puny little star in the grand and 
 awful universe, we sweep around in our appointed 
 cycle. Infinite mysteries are about us and beneath 
 us, in which we have neither hand nor voice. No 
 influence of ours can hasten or retard, or in any 
 way disturb, the earth in her swift career. Im- 
 pelled by an unseen force, guided by inexorable 
 law, she wheels through the circling heavens. 
 We sit perched on her surface for a few days, 
 turning our little glasses upon the worlds that go 
 flashing by, — shrinking now and then with sud- 
 den fear, .as some unknown messenger seems to 
 threaten destruction to our frail chariot. We 
 delve a few feet down among the granite records, 
 striving with dim eyes and feeble hands to wrest 
 their secrets from the rocks. Painfully and labori- 
 ously, generation after generation, shred by shred, 
 we gather a few facts, and then a " giant intel- 
 lect " arises, and compels admiration by the an- 
 nouncement of some "great law," which is only 
 the general statement of assorted facts. So in 
 the lapse of ages we discover here and there 
 gleams of the vast system by which God gov- 
 erns the universe. We play at hide and seek 
 
 3* 
 
58 ORDINANCES. 
 
 with the truths of space and time. Right, if 
 we do it right, — and productive onlj of good. 
 "Wrong, if we do it wrong, — and conducive only 
 to evil. 
 
 It needs not to wage war with science. That 
 would be the blindest, and, fortunately, the most 
 useless stupidity. Science is the handmaid of re- 
 ligion. Every step we take in the knowledge of 
 mind or matter brings us intellectually, and should 
 bring us morally, nearer to God. Our very mis- 
 takes are fruitfiil of good, since every error ex- 
 posed diminishes, by so much, our distance from 
 the truth. There is, there can be, no contradiction 
 between the truths of science and the truths of 
 the Bible, for truth is always at one with itself. 
 What contradiction exists, lies between seeming 
 truths, or our conceptions of them. As we in- 
 crease in wisdom, all discrepancies will disappear. 
 True theology and true geology will dovetail into 
 each other. If it could be otherwise, — if the 
 Bible needed to be shielded from the light of 
 advancing knowledge, lest its own light should be 
 quenched or dimmed, it would be no Bible at all. 
 A revelation that needs to be propped up is a 
 sorry kind of revelation. If, when science is 
 rounded to completion, it shall contradict the 
 Bible, let the Bible go. We do not want it. It 
 will have done its work. Let it be gathered to 
 the Korans, and the Eddas, and the Shasters. 
 But it will not ! Science and theology are both 
 
ORDINANCES. 59 
 
 in tlieir infancy. They have not yet put off their 
 swaddhng-clothes. We only look through a glass 
 darkly. When the full glory is revealed, we 
 shall see how, along the world's dark ages not yet 
 closed, both have been working together for good. 
 Meanwhile, let us be modest. Let us be reverent. 
 Let us remember that a law is only God's mode 
 of action. Science is recreant to her trust if she 
 makes us satisfied with anything short of God. 
 Better that we should look upon the fearful sights 
 and great signs in the heavens, — upon plague 
 and pestilence and famine as the direct scourges 
 of God, than that we should say "gravitation," 
 *' electricity," " malaria," and put God out of all 
 our thoughts. All that we can do as regards 
 other worlds, and the most we can do in this, is 
 to discover what is. We say the planets revolve 
 round the sun, and the sun around its sun. Ni- 
 trogen destroys life, and oxygen destroys life, but 
 nitrogen and oxygen together support life. We 
 can neither explain nor alter the facts. We can- 
 not add one cubit to our stature, nor make one 
 hair of our heads white or black. How worse than 
 useless, then, for us to attempt to divorce science 
 and rehgion. How thousand-fold orphaned should 
 we be, if we could cut loose from God. How 
 senseless is it for us to construct our little theories 
 from otir fragmentary facts, — houses of straw, 
 which a breath from the next generation may 
 blow away, — and then stand off and exclaim, " Is 
 
60 ORDINANCES. 
 
 not this great Babylon that I have built ? " O 
 fools and slow of heart ! He that sitteth in the 
 heavens shall laugh ! The Lord shall have us 
 in derision. 
 
 But, on the other side, who is it that is working 
 this divorce of science and rellmon ? Not the 
 "undevout astronomer," not the philosopher, who, 
 in the strength of his mighty Intellect, refuses 
 to believe in the need or the fact of revelation, 
 and scouts the idea of a miracle. To be sure, 
 he does what he can. He harnesses himself to 
 Satan's chariot, and drags with all his might and 
 main ; but the Lord has taken off the wheels, 
 and It would be very up-hill work, if you. Chris- 
 tian brother, did not stand close in the rear and 
 push. One sinner destroys much good, but not 
 so much as the conscientious, narrow-minded, 
 bigoted Christian destroys. It Is you who do the 
 mischief, — you, who refuse to recognize anything 
 as religious or devout or Christian unless it Is 
 measured off by your yard-stick ; you, who, with 
 unskilful hands, build fences high and wide, and 
 with presumptuous hps cry aloud, " The temple 
 of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple 
 of the Lord are these " ; you, who denounce those 
 who are seeking the pearl of great price because 
 they do not push their search in your domains ; 
 you, who lay upon the necks of disciples a burden 
 which neither our fathers nor we were able to 
 bear ; you who distrust the discoveries and dis- 
 
ORDINANCES. 61 
 
 courage the advances of science because they 
 trench upon your crude, preconceived notions of 
 truth ; you, who seem to fancy that in the "march 
 of mind " the ark will topple over unless you put 
 forth unsanctified hands to steady it ; you, who 
 wantonly or ignorantly confound looking at God 
 through nature, with looking at nature as God, — 
 him who strengthens his faith by studying the 
 wonderful works of God, w^ith him who first 
 wrests them from their author, and then substi- 
 tutes them for faith, changing the beauty of 
 ear-rings and bracelets into the hideousness of a 
 golden calf, and then falling down and worship- 
 ping it. 
 
 Do not, by any possibility, misunderstand me 
 to advocate that namby-pambyism that rejects 
 the creeds which it has not strength enough to 
 grasp ; keeps itself afloat in a \veak solution of 
 feeble sentiment, second-hand poetry, borrowed 
 metaphysics, and stolen Christianity; proves its 
 independence of thought by not thinking at all ; 
 its elevation above the atmosphere of belief, by 
 exploding in perpetual vacuum ; reviles the in- 
 tellect which it cannot fathom ; pelts with mud 
 the dead lions wdiose living roar would have im- 
 parted to its heels a vigor never possessed by its 
 head; mocks at the Samsons, blind and chained, 
 gi'inding in the prison-houses of error, from whose 
 little finger, when free, it would have shrunk in 
 shuddering dismay ; and, decrying the ministry of 
 
62 ORDINANCES. 
 
 the word, is itself a perpetual sermon on the text, 
 " Yanitj of vanities." A creed is but the ex- 
 pression of belief, and though the wisest man 
 probably believes something that is not true, the 
 very worst of creeds is better than no creed at all. 
 Nothing is so fatal as indifference. In the snow- 
 country it is better to go in the wrong road than 
 to stop going altogether. The man. who has no 
 belief, would better sell all that he has and buy 
 one. 
 
 The natural religion that I mean is referred to 
 in the sixty-fifth Psalm. The old Hebrews, half- 
 civilized as they were, if not rather half-savage, 
 were wiser in this thing; than we. To them it 
 was the voice of the Lord that broke the cedars 
 of Lebanon. It was the Lord that sat upon the 
 flood. They saw his mercy in the heavens and 
 his faithfulness reaching; unto the clouds. It was 
 he who prepared rain for the earth, and made the 
 grass to grow upon the mountains, who gave to 
 the beast his food, and to the young ravens which 
 cried, who filled them with the finest wheat, scat- 
 tered the hoar-frost like ashes, called forth his ice 
 like morsels, caused his wind to blow and the 
 waters to flow, brought out the hosts of the stars 
 by number, and called them all by name. 
 
 Well will it be for us when the unlearned seek 
 Avisdom, and the learned humility ; when the 
 fool on the one side and the philosopher on the 
 other, — the child in knowledge and he that is a 
 
ORDINANCES. 63 
 
 hundred years old, — shall alike call not only upon 
 his angels to praise the Lord, but " Praise ye him, 
 sun and moon : praise ye him, all ye stars of light. 
 Praise him, ye heaven of heavens, and ye waters 
 that be above the heavens. Fire, and hail ; snow, 
 and vapor ; stormy wind, fulfilling his word ; 
 mountains, and all hills ; fruitful trees, and all 
 cedars ; beasts, and all cattle ; creeping things, 
 and flying fowl ; praise the name of tlie Lord : 
 for He commanded, and they were created. His 
 name alone is excellent ; his glory is above the 
 earth and heaven." 
 
 AssembHng together for prayer and praise is rath- 
 er the festival of our religion than its practice. The 
 work, the duty, the struggle, the thick and brunt of 
 the battle, come in the week-days. We meet to 
 eat the bread and drink the waters of life. Dur- 
 ing the week these ought to enter into the system, 
 becoming blood and brain and nerve and sinew. 
 If a man stays away from the banquet, he has his 
 share of all the sorrow and suffering appointed 
 to men ; yet rejects the consolation which the 
 gentle ministrations of the Gospel afford. The 
 curse that was pronounced upon Adam falls just 
 as heavily on him ; yet he closes his ear to the 
 soothino; voice that would fain make him forcrct 
 the burden, and rejects the outstretched hand that 
 would help him bear it. His path is steep and 
 difficult, like all paths, but he will not take the 
 proffered cup that would "medicine his weariness." 
 
64 ORDINANCES. 
 
 If it is his ignorance, he is surel}'- to be pitied ; shall 
 he be any the less pitied if it is his sin ? Is not 
 sin the saddest of all sorrows ? It was over wild 
 and wicked men — a fierce and violent rabble — 
 that Christ's heart melted in infinite compassion. 
 " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that hillest the 
 prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee J ^ 
 It is this Divine pity that we need, — this godlike 
 yearning over sin-sick souls. We are too apt to 
 be wanting in charity, tenderness, consideration. 
 We try to drive wdiere we should seek to win. 
 We remember Christ's " O serpents, generation 
 of vipers ! " and forget his " that ye love one 
 another." We are more ready to follow him 
 with the scourge of small cords in our hands, than 
 with his new commandment in our hearts. If 
 God saw as man sees, scarcely could tlie righteous 
 be saved. He knoweth our frame; He remem- 
 bereth that we are dust. Man, often ignorant of 
 the one, is often forgetful of the other. We can 
 hardly be too severe in judging ourselves, or too 
 lenient in judging others. Generally he who 
 is most just toward himself is most charitable 
 toward his neighbors. 
 
 There is not a little self-indulgence mingled 
 with our church-going. The meeting-house is 
 not always the post of duty. A father goes in 
 the morning with his older children, and leaves 
 his wife with a fretful, sickly baby in her arms. 
 All day long she nm'ses the suffering child. Not 
 
ORDINANCES. 65 
 
 a moment of rest, not a chapter from her Bible, 
 does the Sabbath bring to her. It is one long 
 weariness and anxiety. I think that man would 
 serve God a great deal more effectually by staying 
 at home and minding the baby awhile, so that the 
 mother can get a little quiet out of her Sunday, 
 than by going to church and listening compla- 
 cently to two or three excellent sermons. 
 
 Fathers and mothers often foro-et the wants 
 of their little ones. The poor things are too 
 young to understand or enjoy Sabbath services, 
 and not young enough to be kept at home and 
 amused, — particularly if there is no servant. So 
 the time which should be a holiday for the body, 
 and a holy day for the soul, drags wearily on for 
 them. They nestle restlessly, or sleep mercifully, 
 through the long sermons, and employ themselves 
 at home as best they can. The legitimate chan- 
 nels through which their life flows being cut off, 
 their exuberance is continually carving for itself 
 new and illegitimate ones. Happy, both for 
 themselves and their parents, is the hour that 
 sees their little feet pattering bedward. It ought 
 not to be so. Sunday cannot be too early made 
 the bright day of childhood. All that is beautiflil 
 and pleasant and sunshiny, as well as all that is 
 holy, ought to be entwined with their Sunday 
 memories. 
 
 This cannot be done without self-sacrifice. 
 Children must have something to do ; otherwise 
 
66 ORDINANCES. 
 
 they will make sometliing, and that something will 
 generally be mischief. They are active, and not 
 passive. Their spirits should not be repressed, 
 but guided. It is not enough that they be kept 
 out of danger ; they should be instructed, amused, 
 and made happy, — not by servile petting, but by 
 wise training. The nursery can be wrapped in 
 Sunday surroundings. It needs no formidable 
 preparation. A few books and pictures by the 
 father's or mother's eye and hand and voice can 
 be invested with attraction. Love is fertile in 
 expedients. 
 
 Yet it is true that it cannot be done without 
 time and trouble. But if one of the reasons why 
 children are born is not to discipline their parents 
 by trouble, why were they not born all grown up? 
 It would be far easier for the father and mother to 
 leave their children to the care or the carelessness 
 of a hired nurse and enjoy themselves in church, — 
 or, if there be no nurse, to take the young unfor- 
 tunates with them, to sleep or wriggle or sit out 
 in dumb, sad patience what seems to them an in- 
 terminable sermon, — than it would be to stay at 
 home and provide for the wants of these eager 
 young souls, just dancing on the threshold of life ; 
 but there is no trouble like the trouble with which 
 a child's folly, sin, and shame bring his father's 
 gray hairs to the grave. If the day should ever 
 come when your house is left unto you desolate, 
 your hopes shattered, and your heart broken^ 
 
ORDINANCES. 67 
 
 through a son's misdoing, you will look with bitter 
 and unavailing regret on the time when his guile- 
 less soul, his loving, plastic nature, and every in- 
 nocent charm of childhood, called to you to cherish 
 and save, and you would not hear. There is that 
 withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to 
 poverty. 
 
 Devote at least a part of your day to the moral 
 needs of your dependent little ones. Let them go 
 to church, even if tliey do not understand. They 
 need discipline as well as their parents, and they 
 also need to form habits of church-going. But 
 do not keep them at it longer than they are able 
 to bear. Let pleasure share with duty the oppor- 
 tunity to interest and the power to teach. 
 
 As men live in communities, it is often neces- 
 sary to ask, " What will be the influence of my 
 action ? what would be the consequence if every 
 one should do as I do ? " in order to answer the 
 question, "Am I doing right?" The fact that 
 we sometimes lay too great stress on this point is 
 not a reason why we should lay on it no stress at 
 all. While it is true that a right action is always 
 to be done, and a wrong action alv/ays to be 
 shunned, be the consequences what they may, it 
 is also true that there are actions whose character 
 is determined by the consequences which are de- 
 signed, or which may be expected to flow from 
 them. If a boy goes to college, or a girl takes a 
 daily v^alk, because it is what he or slie likes to do 
 
68 ORDINANCES. 
 
 better than anything else, it is simply innocent ; 
 if they do it against their inclination, bnt cheer- 
 fully because their father wishes it and they desire 
 to obey and please him, it becomes virtuous ; if 
 beyond this they are actuated by the desire to do 
 right, — to please God by obeying tlieir father, — it 
 is religion. The motive of action often lifts the 
 action out of the slough of sin, or off the plane 
 of innocence, to the higher planes of virtue and 
 religion. The Paul who withstood Peter to the 
 face because he was to be blamed, was the same 
 Paul who would eat no meat while the world stand- 
 eth, lest he make his brother to offend. It was 
 the motive alone which made the first act bravery 
 and not brawling ; and the second, consideration 
 and not cov/ardice. The boldness with which he 
 bearded Peter was no more praiseworthy, and 
 certainly I think less rare, than the liberality and 
 courtesy which induced him to abstain from meat. 
 Inextricably woven together as the lives and 
 destinies of men are, the greatest good of the 
 greatest number seems to be the direct object of 
 that course of action whose ultimate end is to glo- 
 rify God and enjoy him forever. So far as indi- 
 vidual happiness may consist therewith, it is to be 
 consulted ; but if the tvv^o clash, individual happi- 
 ness must give way. Now it often happens that 
 the two do clash. The InVliest real good of the 
 many can be obtained only by sacrificing the 
 highest apparent good of the few. Yet does this 
 
ORDINANCES. 69 
 
 in no wise affect the duty of all — not excepting 
 the sufferers themselves — to work for the highest 
 general good. Common law recognizes this. A 
 butcher^ is not allowed to place his slaughter-house 
 wherever it may be most convenient to himself; 
 nor a farmer to dam up, for his own purposes, in 
 his own field, a brook, whose stoppage would di- 
 minish the value of his neighbor's field. If, then, 
 a man is not suffered by law to benefit his purse 
 at the expense of his neighbor's, he certainly ought 
 not to be allowed by religion to benefit his soul at 
 the expense of his neighbor's. As a matter of fact 
 I do not suppose this can ever happen. Material 
 and spiritual laws differ so far, that the good which 
 he might obtain from his liberty would be over- 
 balanced by the evil wliich he would suffer from 
 his selfishness. 
 
 Attendance and non-attendance upon church- 
 services are not, therefore, to be decided solely by 
 their effects upon individuals, but upon the com- 
 munity. A man may believe that he should re- 
 ceive more benefit by stopping away from church 
 altogether ; yet, unless he thinks it would be bet- 
 ter on the whole for every one to do the same, 
 and Sabbath services, therefore, to be discontin- 
 ued, it would not be right for him to do it. Event- 
 ually he would not suffer, since, as I have before 
 intimated, his loss in one direction would be more 
 than compensated by his gain in another. But a 
 conscientious and wise man would not probably 
 
70 ORDINANCES. 
 
 consider a difference of opinion or of taste between 
 himself and his pastor or his fellow-worshippers 
 sufficient to justify such a course of action. Noth- 
 ing would be enough except a conviction J:hat his 
 attendance would be a connivance at wrong, — in 
 which case, he would think it right for every man 
 to do the same. 
 
 A man might, indeed, say that he would have 
 every one imitate himself in so far as that he should 
 judge for himself, and go, or refrain from going, 
 as he chose ; and when the Millennium comes, I 
 have no doubt this is precisely what we shall do ; 
 but for a few years more, probably, we shall have 
 to act, not simply with reference to the true, the 
 thoughtful, the wise, and the good, whose sole 
 object is to find the right path, and to walk there- 
 in, but to the careless, the frivolous, the unthink- 
 ing, the selfish, who need to be coaxed and tempted 
 and drawn and driven into the kingdom of heaven. 
 We will not, however, dwell on this part of the 
 subject, but consider the consequences that would 
 ensue if every one should adopt the plan of going 
 to church once or twice on Sunday, instead of 
 twice or thrice. 
 
 I shall suppose that a plan is to be adopted., — 
 intelligently, conscientiously, from principle, — and 
 not that a habit is to be fallen into carelessly, from 
 Indifference or laziness. And here let me say, my 
 irreligious friend, that you can, if you choose, 
 wrest my words, as the words of better and 
 
ORDINANCES. 71 
 
 wiser persons than I have been wrested, to your 
 own destruction, but I disclaim responsibihty for 
 any such consequences. I shall express my views 
 as clearly as I can ; and if lukewarm piety in any 
 of its thousand-fold manifestations shall be aided 
 or abetted by any word of mine, it will be because 
 I have not the intellectual power to express my 
 opinions and convictions in intelligible language. 
 What I wish and design is, not to smooth the broad 
 way, but to knock as many stumbling-blocks as 
 possible out of the narrow way. I address myself 
 particularly to the conscientious, to Christians, to 
 those who would count all things but loss if they 
 might so win souls to Christ, to men who for the 
 truth's sake would march to the stake, who would 
 willingly prove all things in order that they might 
 hold fast that which is good, but who, in pursuit 
 of noblest ends, do not employ the wisest means. 
 I address them not for their own sakes merely, but 
 for the sake of the lost souls who wander up and 
 down, poor and miserable and blind and naked, 
 to whom the light of God's Word is dimmed by 
 the imperfections of the glass through which, al- 
 most alone, it darkly shines on them. If there 
 are Christians who are perfectly satisfied with the 
 present state of things, — who think that every- 
 thing is doing that can be done to Christianize 
 the world, — w^ho believe that all future changes 
 in modes of operation must be of degree, not of 
 kind, — I do not speak to them; but to those who 
 
72 ORDINANCES. 
 
 believe in a moral as well as in a material progres- 
 sion, — who believe that in grasping truth we 
 have not attained all truth, — who would gladly 
 receive from any quarter, however humble, any 
 suggestion, however faint, which professes to en- 
 deavor to show how " one more unfortunate" may 
 be brought in from the highways and hedges to 
 the feast of the Lord. 
 
 The first obvious result would be irregular, and 
 often small audiences, which would embarrass and 
 discourage the minister. This, however, is an evil 
 not without remedy. The minister, being a sen- 
 sible man, as well as a devout Christian, has only 
 to proportion the number of his services to the 
 number of his hearers. If a large part of his con- 
 gregation prefer no afternoon sermon, why should 
 he not omit the afternoon sermon ? In every 
 place where there is more than one Evangehcal 
 church, the ministers could preach in their own 
 churches in the morning, and have preaching by 
 turns in each other's churches in the afternoon. 
 This would give those who wish to go all day an 
 opportunity to do so, while it would also be con- 
 venient for those who may be detained in the 
 morning. The father and mother or nurse could 
 take turns in minding the little ones at home, and 
 at the same time feel that they were reaping the 
 full benefit of the pastor's ripest thought. For 
 (as a second result) any man's one sermon a week 
 would probably be better than the best of his two 
 
ORDINANCES. 73 
 
 a week, on an average ; while he who addresses a 
 congregation kathered from two or three churches 
 would be excited by that circumstance to do his 
 best, and his best would be better than if he were 
 obliged to write two or three sermons every week. 
 There may be objections to this plan. The mother 
 who stays at home with the baby in the morning, 
 might choose to hear her own minister in the 
 afternoon rather than be obliged to have recoui'se 
 to a stranger. This, however, is only one of 
 several disadvantages that arise naturally from 
 babies, and must be compensated from domestic 
 resources. Arrangements can be made so that 
 she can hear her own pastor once a fortnight at 
 least, and a good sermon once a fortnio;ht is better 
 than a poor one once a week. The deficiency must 
 be made up by considerations of the general good, 
 — assuming, of course, that the general good 
 would thereby be increased. Another objection 
 is, that, unfortunately, the relations of Christian 
 congregations are sometimes such as to preclude 
 the possibility of any such fraternal commingling. 
 Such congregations can only be recommended to 
 give up preaching altogether, and fast and pray 
 themselves into a better state of mind. The petty 
 feuds and jealousies and bickerings which some- 
 times exist between neio^hborino; concrregations 
 are a disgrace to our Christianity, and make the 
 '' See how these Christians love one another ! " a 
 burning and bitter sarcasm. 
 
74 ORDINANCES. 
 
 A better plan still, and one that seems to me to 
 combine every excellence and exclude qyqvj de- 
 fect, is that which has already been adopted by 
 some churches, namely, to liaA^e preaching in the 
 mornino: and Sabbath school in the afternoon. 
 This can be done equally well whether there be 
 one or more churches in a town. But in any 
 society it should be universal ; that is, the Sab- 
 bath school should not be considered as established 
 for the young only, but for all, just as much as the 
 preaching is for all. All the intellect, all the 
 available force of the congregation, should be 
 brought in and used, either in the way of teach- 
 ing or learning. It should be no superficial thing, 
 — a half-hour or an hour spent in languidly tri- 
 fling over a portion of Scripture with wandering 
 eyes, divided attention, and ill-concealed weari- 
 ness. It should be taken hold of by aU — both 
 teachers and scholars — as a work to be done. 
 The most vio-orous minds should be enlisted, the 
 most powerful brains aroused, the deepest thouglit 
 stirred. Rough minds will gain polish, and pol- 
 ished minds will gain strength. The Bible should 
 be looked upon, not as a nosegay to be gracefully 
 carried and daintily held ; but as a mine to be 
 explored with fixed faith in its treasured gold. 
 The whole congregation can be put on the quest 
 of one truth. The child and the man can investi- 
 gate the same subject. The former will, of course, 
 only take its more obvious bearings ; the latter 
 
ORDINANCES. 75 
 
 will exploie its inner workings ; and between the 
 two will be every grade of interest and discovery. 
 The people will become the active searchers for 
 truth, instead of its passive recipients. Yet while 
 their efficiency will be increased, their receptivity 
 will be increased in proportion. The pastor's 
 sermons will be far better understood and appre- 
 ciated, and far more effectual, because the soil will 
 have been broken up and made ready for the seed, 
 instead of being hard and sun-baked as it often is. 
 His close contact with his people Avill give point 
 to his sermons. The Sabbath school will be a band 
 of union. Pastor and people will stand on com- 
 mon ground. He will get at hearts. He will 
 learn the difficulties that beset common minds. 
 He will strike out ideas. New trains of thought 
 will be suggested to him. He will be continu- 
 ally taking new stand-points. He will know the 
 needs, the redundancies and the deficiencies, of 
 his people. He will learn their spiritual and intel- 
 lectual peculiarities, and where the most effective 
 blows are to be struck. The energies of the 
 Church will be brought out and developed. It 
 will be a power instead of a weight, a hive in- 
 stead of a sepulchre, a vineyard of the Lord 
 instead of a valley of dry bones. 
 
 Instead of one preacher, there will be fifty 
 preachers. Every pastor will be the leader of a 
 host, and every church a magazine of weapons 
 mighty through God to the pulling down of 
 strongholds. 
 
76 ORDINANCES. 
 
 The benefit of some such arrangement to cler- 
 gymen, and — shice whatever benefits the pastor 
 benefits the people — to the people, would be m- 
 calculable. Not only would it give him a broader 
 sweep, but a clearer vision. It is in the nature 
 of things impossible that a man should write three 
 sermons a week, year in and year out, without 
 a deterioration in the quality both of his sermons 
 and of his mind ; not that his last sermons grow 
 worse than his first, but worse than they would 
 have been if he wrote fewer of them. The 
 reason of this is not, as many suppose, that he 
 writes himself empty, that the fountain runs dry, 
 that he has nothing to say, and, being forced to 
 say something, must utter platitudes. On the 
 contrary, I suspect that ministers scarcely ever 
 catch up with their note-books. There is a great 
 deal of wickedness in the world, and a great deal 
 of holiness in the Bible. It is the business of 
 the minister to bring the two into contact; to 
 transfix man's falsehood with God's truth ; to 
 dissipate the mists of sin and stupidity with the 
 clear shinino; of the Sun of Righteousness ; to 
 stab every brazen-faced vice with the sword of 
 the Spirit ; to bring the lamp of the word to 
 bear upon all the hidden things of darkness, and 
 reveal their loathsomeness. Whether this can be 
 done with or without observation, it is equally 
 his duty to it. We must reason of righteousness, 
 temperance, and judgment to come, whether Fe- 
 
ORDINANCES. 77 
 
 lix scoff or tremble ; and until there remains on 
 earth no sin to be rebuked, no ignorance to be 
 taught, no soul to be saved, the minister will 
 hardly lack themes. 
 
 But to their successful treatment time is neces- 
 sary ; — time to compare, to infer, to illustrate, 
 and to present ; time to observe and collate facts, 
 and to deduce conclusions ; time to investigate 
 the past, to comprehend the present, and to shape 
 the future. Can any minister, who at all appre- 
 ciates his calling, save time enough from his 
 family, social, and parochial duties to bring all 
 his forces to bear on the elucidation of three, or 
 even two, separate subjects every week, in suth 
 a manner that the presentation of his views shall 
 be in every case the very best that it is possible 
 for him to make ? This is, I think, what every 
 minister should aim at, what every people have 
 a right to expect, and what they should endeavor 
 by every means in their power to help him do. 
 If the same amount of study, research, and 
 thought that is spread over three sermons were 
 concentrated on one, the one subject would be so 
 much better managed, the one truth would be 
 presented with so much more deftness, point, and 
 pungency, that the Gospel would seem to star-t 
 up into new life. The very consciousness that he 
 could give his whole thought and strength to one 
 thing, would deepen the one and increase the 
 other. He could throw himself into it unreserv- 
 
78 ORDINANCES. 
 
 edly, distracted by no misgivings as to what was 
 to become of the second sermon. There would 
 be a unity of design, a skill in execution, and a 
 completeness of effect, which would not only give 
 him pleasure in the present, but would nerve him 
 to new exertions in the future, — while his other 
 duties, having a reasonable time allotted to their 
 performance, would refresh instead of wearying 
 him, — would return him to his study eager to 
 grapple with his theme, instead of hurried, ner- 
 vous, conscious of being unable to do anything as 
 it should be done, and worried by that conscious- 
 ness into still greater inability. 
 
 To the people, also, it seems to me that, apart 
 from every other consideration, one sermon would 
 do just as much good as two. A thorough expo- 
 sition of one doctrine will o-ive them food enough 
 for thought, — a forcible inculcation of one duty 
 will give them opportunity enough for practice 
 until the next Sunday comes. In fact, the im- 
 pression of one sermon is likely to be deeper 
 than that of two. If it is good, it may be better 
 left to work its own way undisturbed. If it is 
 poor, the second will probably be poorer. A 
 good sermon following close upon the heels of 
 a good sermon, distracts the attention, annuls the 
 effects of the first, and prevents a practical appli- 
 cation of either. A poor sermon following a 
 good one, acts like damp air on an electrical 
 machine. 
 
ORDINANCES. 79 
 
 " But is going to church too much one of the 
 crying sins of the age ? " It has been asked. 
 Is it not a waste of ammunition to fire away at 
 what is at most only an error of judgment, and 
 th.it in the right direction, when so many grievous 
 sins spring up in deadly luxuriance around us ? 
 Very true, church-going is not a crying sin, and, 
 if it sto[)ped with itself, might well be let alone ; 
 but when one has a headache, you put mustard- 
 poultices on his feet. Why do you do it ? His 
 feet are well enough ; it is his head that is dis- 
 ordered. Why not poultice that ? Because you 
 know that the best way, or at least one of the 
 ways, to get at his head, is through his feet. 
 The head and the feet and the limbs are not 
 separate individualities, but members of one body ; 
 and whether one member suffer, all the members 
 suffer with it ; or one member be honored, all the 
 members rejoice with it. If the feet are too 
 swift, whether to evil or to good, it is not the 
 feet only that presently falter, but the whole head 
 is sick and the wdiole heart faint. So also is 
 Christ. Ye are the body of Christ, and members 
 in particular. Wrong in one may produce wrong, 
 either the same or different, in another ; and even 
 error may produce wrong. Consumption in one 
 generation gives asthma to the next. The moth- 
 er's scrofula distorts the child's spine. The 
 drunkard's blear eyes come out in the son's blood- 
 less lips. Is it not possible that there may be 
 
80 ORDINANCES. 
 
 a closer connection than you think between your 
 multiplication of new moons and sacrifices, and 
 the mournful companies that are going down to 
 the chamber of death ? If they be not the " cry- 
 ing sin," may they not be one of the causes that 
 produce it? Or, if they do not actually produce 
 it, do they tend to prevent its immediate removal ? 
 No crime is so small that we can afford to commit 
 it, no mistake so slight that we can afford to make 
 it. A single misplaced figure in the calculation 
 sends a ship plunging upon the pitiless rocks, and 
 the waters sweep over it forever. 
 
 That people sin is no reason why we should go 
 on blundering. Our brother's faults are no excuse 
 for our foibles. Because men cheat each other, 
 shall we lie in bed in the morning ? Shall we 
 pursue a coui'se of action not the best, because it 
 is not the worst? 
 
 Man's chief end is to glorify God. But there 
 are two ways of glorifying him ; one is to worship 
 him, the other is to work with and for him. In 
 the one, we meet to call upon his name, to praise 
 his excellences, to discover his will ; in the 
 other, we strive, or ought to strive, to get his 
 Gospel into the heart, and bring it out in the life, 
 of Smith the merchant, and Brown the farmer, 
 and Jones the pickpocket, and Jenkins the poli- 
 tician. If a great sin stands in the way of Christ, 
 and prevents his advance, by all means slay the 
 great sin ; but if a little error retards his ap- 
 
ORDINANCES. 81 
 
 proacli, do not hesitate to remove that, even if the 
 sin be not slain. Whatsoever thy hand finds to 
 do, do it with thy miglit. 
 
 I do not consider that those who stop at home 
 in the morning because it is cloudy, in the after- 
 noon because it is warm, in the evenino; because 
 it is foggy, — who saunter lazily, or ride aimlessly, 
 or read indiscriminately, or doze listlessly through 
 the Sabbath hours, — have solved the problem. 
 While I do not desire to see the Sabbath become 
 a Jewish rite on the one hand, neither do I desire 
 to see it become a German holiday on the other, 
 but a Christian festival. It should be a day of 
 rest ; but indolence and negligence are not rest ; 
 nor is a mere ceasino; from labor the hiMiest kind 
 of rest. 
 
 The Sabbath was made for us. Let us neither 
 abuse nor neglect, but use it. Let it be the 
 servant of our souls ; not the slave either of our 
 prejudice or our folly. I claim and desire no lib- 
 erty but that wherewith Christ hath made us free. 
 That I want in largest measure. 
 
 O for the tender, loving, considerate spirit of 
 Christ, who, by a new consecration, gave the 
 Sabbath doubly to man, — to be alike the ser- 
 vant of his humblest needs and his highest aspi- 
 rations ! 
 
 4* 
 
IV. 
 
 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 OTWITHSTANDING the high esti- 
 mation in which we hold pubKc wor- 
 ship, we keep back a large part of the 
 ^br-^CTT-^J^ communitj from joining in public 
 worship. While with one hand we unduly press 
 men hito the Church, with the other we unjustly 
 shut them out. This must be wrong. Any sys- 
 tem must be wrong which prevents the poor from 
 hearing the Gospel. When the disciples of John 
 would know from Christ's own lips whether he 
 was indeed the Messiah, the Deliverer, he gave 
 them certain signs whereby they should be able 
 to judge for themselves. One of these signs was 
 " the poor have the Gospel preached unto them." 
 If that was a criterion in the days of Christ, I 
 know no reason why it should not be a criterion 
 now. But if it is, there are many churches whose 
 creed may be profoundly orthodox, yet whose 
 practice in this respect would not entitle them to 
 be called Christian churches. 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 83 
 
 Magnificent church edifices are not objection- 
 able, if rightly come by. Nothing is too rich, too 
 beautiful, too grand, for the temple of the Most 
 High ; but if, when these structures are built, 
 they are accessible only to the rich, they are not 
 the temples of the Lord, but the temples of the 
 money that built them. I do not see how they 
 can be anything but an abomination to the Lord. 
 A majority of Christians profess to believe that 
 tlie ordinances of the Sabbath day are an especial 
 and paramount " means of gi'ace." If, then, Chris- 
 tians build costly churches, and cause that " every 
 door is barred with gold, and opens but to golden 
 keys," what are they doing but practically and 
 effectually, on their own showing, shutting poor 
 people out fi'om the means of grace? Combin- 
 ing the doctrines and the customs of some church- 
 es, we can but arrive at the conclusion, that it is 
 easier for a camel to go through the eye of a 
 needle than for a poor man to enter into the king- 
 dom of Heaven. Why should we send money to 
 convert tlic heathen abroad, and shut church-doors 
 in the faces of poor Christians at home ? We do 
 it. Pew-rents in several — I think in many — of 
 the churches in our laro;e cities are such as to ren- 
 der it impossible, not only for the impoverished, 
 but wellnigh impossible for any but the rich, to 
 obtain seats. A mechanic, moving into the city 
 from a country village, with a family to support, a 
 clerk with a salary of a thousand dollars, a young 
 
84 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 mercliant strugii'Hno' for existence, cannot take a 
 pew and go to church with his family. And if he 
 stays at home, and gradually loses the distinctive- 
 ness of Sunday, — if his children grow up without 
 any church home, or any of the influences and 
 associations that often do, and always should, clus- 
 ter around a church home, — am I my brother's 
 keeper ? 
 
 How must these things look to those who are 
 thus shut out ? The industrious and respectable 
 mechanic, who has been trained under religious 
 influences, though he has not wholly yielded to 
 them, and who, coming from tlie social and home- 
 like country into the city, naturally seeks among 
 the first requisites a place wdiere his family may 
 weekly worship according to tlieir w^ont, — what 
 does he think, how does he feel, as he turns away 
 from one and anotlier church because the expense 
 will not permit him to enter ? The poverty- 
 stricken, squalid, houseless, friendless poor, — do 
 such customs tend to induce the belief in their 
 hearts that Christianity is the common blessing of 
 all mankind ? How lono; shall the rio;ht hand 
 baffle the left ? How long shall we declare that 
 the Gospel is to be the redemption of all, that the 
 good tidings of great joy shall be to all people, 
 and then stall up the very place where that Gos- 
 pel is dis^^ensed, the very place where those good 
 tidings are proclaimed, as closely and exclusively 
 as if salvation were the prerogative of moneyed 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 85 
 
 men ? How long will it take to " convert " Bos- 
 ton, New York, Baltimore, at this rate ? 
 
 I hav^e heard of churches where the pews are 
 locked, and only their owners are suffered to enter 
 tliem. May they stay locked to all Christian men ! 
 O my soul, come not thou into their secrets ! 
 Unto such assemblies, mine honor, be not thou 
 united ! These pew-owners, it must be conclud- 
 ed, expect to get into heaven through a private 
 entrance. They have made a gravel-path outside 
 the strait and narrow way, along which they 
 may walk with stretched-forth necks and wanton 
 eyes, walking and mincing as they go, and so be 
 happily apart from vulgar travellers toward the 
 celestial city. There is a postern-gate remote 
 from the thronged portals, which opens only to 
 their touch. They have rented beforehand the 
 stateliest of the many mansions, and will meet 
 only their own set in the golden streets. Is it 
 religion or is it travesty ? 
 
 I suppose there must be some justification, some 
 cause, for this thing. If there is, I wish it could 
 be brought forward. I am utterly at a loss even 
 to conjecture it. To me it looks eminently and 
 only unchristian, — directly and sharply opposed 
 to the whole spirit of the Gospel. 
 
 It is said that provision is made for the poor, 
 that chapels are built in which they are invited 
 to worship without any expense. But, God be 
 thanked ! the great majority of honest, hard-work- 
 
86 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 ing Northerners have too much dignity and self- 
 respect to accept ahns. They have a sensitiveness 
 as delicate as that of the millionnaire. They will 
 not live upon his charity any more willingly than 
 he will live upon theirs. And this feeling — call it 
 pride, or what you will — is both a beneficial and 
 an honorable one. It is a bulwark against evil, 
 and he intends mischief who would do anything 
 to pull it down. A great majority of these peo- 
 ple would choose to stay away from church alto- 
 gether, rather than become the recipients of char- 
 ity ; and who can blame them ? Moreover, even 
 if they were willing to go to the churches pro- 
 vided for them, the defect would not be remedied. 
 We do not want — the world does not want — 
 one church for the rich and one for the poor. We 
 want a church where the rich and the poor meet 
 together ; the Lord is the Maker of them all. In 
 other respects there may, and often must, be dis- 
 tinctions ; but here every man stands, a naked 
 soul before God. Christ died for all alike. Heaven 
 beckons to all. Alas ! is not Hell from beneath 
 moved for all to meet them at their coming ? In 
 this matter, neither circumcision availeth anything 
 nor uncircumcision ; but whosoever is athirst, let 
 him come and drink freely, without money and 
 without price. Learning, leisure, wit, wealth, may 
 be the boon of the few, but the Gospel is the legacy 
 of humanity. Christianity cannot be broken into 
 grades by earthly distinctions without detriment. 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 87 
 
 At the feast of the Passover, the master and the 
 slave alike pariook : is Christianity more exclu- 
 sive than Judaism ? Is the salvation of the world 
 a less powerful solvent than the salvation of the 
 first-born of the families of Israel ? If Christ 
 could wash the feet of his disciples, cannot those 
 disciples tolerate each other's presence ? 
 
 I believe in the very utmost levelling, the thor- 
 ough radical democracy of the Bible. The only 
 degrees it knows are degrees of holiness. Among 
 them that are born of women, there may be none 
 greater than John the Baptist ; yet he that is 
 least in the kingdom of Heaven is greater than 
 he. I do not believe religion will be aggressive 
 in any community when it is not allowed free 
 course to run and be glorified. 
 
 Our system — the system of building churches, 
 and selling or renting the pews — is selfish even 
 in its appearance. The idea of personal proper- 
 ty is prominent. Surely every church ought to 
 beacon to every wayfarer. Surely there should 
 be no self intruding into social worship. As it is 
 now, if a stranger moves into your parish, you 
 cannot invite him to your church, and your 
 church hospitalities, without laying yourself open 
 to the suspicion of catering for your own inter- 
 ests. You want to help out your society ; you 
 want his money to pay the expenses of the parish. 
 Your hands may be ever so clean, but they will 
 not look clean to a wicked and perverse generation. 
 
88 church-sittings: 
 
 Wliy cannot the whole matter of church taxes 
 be abohshed, and the church rest entirely upon 
 free-will offerings ? Why not let every man be 
 accountable to God alone for what he shall do to 
 — shall I use that common phrase ? — " support 
 the Gospel " ? No ; for wrong words, even if 
 they do not spring from wrong ideas, tend to 
 originate and perpetuate them. People do not 
 support the Gospel ; the Gospel supports them. 
 The Gospel will live, whether they do or do not 
 pay their five or. fifty or five hundred dollars to 
 uphold it. The Gospel will live, whether they 
 attack, neglect, or cherish it ; but without the 
 , Gospel, the good tidings, there is for them no life, 
 " neither in this world, neither in the world to 
 come." Our work is, not to support the Gospel, 
 but to spread the Gospel and drive it home. The 
 Gospel is no pauper, but a king. We are not to 
 dole out to it a fitful pittance, but march under its 
 banners, conquering and to conquer. 
 
 1 would have the whole matter of church-rates 
 taken out of mercantile, and put upon missionary 
 ground. A Christian comnuuiity has built a costly 
 church. If that costly cluu'ch is open only to those 
 who can afford to buy a pew in it, it would much 
 better have been a pine shanty, or even a canvas 
 tent. If the mission of a church is to be subordi- 
 nate to its architecture, then architecture is a de- 
 vice of the Adversary. Let a comnumity build a 
 church, and then throw its doors wide open to 
 
CUUR CH-SITTINGS. 89 
 
 everybody, — yes, to everybody, native and for- 
 eign, black and while, beggar, brigand, pick- 
 pocket, — the worse the better, — and then archi- 
 tecture may become the handmaiden of the Lord. 
 Make your church beautiful, if so you may better 
 express your love to God, — your appreciation of, 
 and your gratitude for, the beauty which he has 
 lavished ; make it attractive, if so you may better 
 lure outcasts into the fold : but let not ostentation 
 or rivalry or ambition reign where only devotion 
 should dwell ; for so you shall have no cherubim, 
 with outstretched wings, hovering over the mercy- 
 seat, but only a golden calf. 
 
 Do you say that the by-w^ay people will not 
 come to church, even if there is one ? Do you 
 get the church ready, do you open the doors, then 
 go out into the highways and hedges and compel 
 them to come in ; meet them at the porch-door 
 wdth smiles, and warm words, and hearty hand- 
 shakings ; give them good seats, not in a corner 
 by themselves, but among your own friends, with 
 your own family, or by your own self; show, if 
 possible, a little interest in them during the week ; 
 and, if they still continue stiff-necked and rebel- 
 lious, think how much harder must be the work 
 of the missionaries, who go thousands of miles to 
 meet the heathen in their strongholds, than yours, 
 who find your heathen under the droppings of 
 your own sanctuary ! 
 
 And if the outcasts do not come, there is an- 
 
90 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 other class who will, — the poor who live, not by 
 shifts, but by honest and persistent industry, — men 
 and women whose days are given over to severe 
 and unintermitting toil ; who have money scarcely 
 beyond the utmost needs of life ; whose ingenuity 
 expends itself in making a cent do the work of a 
 dime, and a dime the work of a dollar ; the men 
 and women who cannot incur the expense of 
 church-sittings, yet who pre-eminently need the 
 comfort and strength of church-service. These 
 people ought to be in the church. They need the 
 church, and the church needs them. They ought 
 to be in it, not as mendicants, not by patronage or 
 permission, but as children of one Father, disciples 
 of one Christ, members of one flock bound to- 
 gether by a common need and a common hope. 
 They ought to stand, rich and poor, on one level, 
 interchanging friendly greetings, conversant with 
 each other's views and fears and feelings, — joint 
 students of the Bible, joint servants of the Lord. 
 It is not necessary nor possible nor desirable tliat 
 all should move on one social plane. Tastes and 
 occupations must decide that. But if religion is 
 not strono; enouo;h to rise above social distinctions, 
 to create friendliness between different classes, to 
 make the rich kindly and genial to the poor, and 
 not patronizing or scornful, — to make the poor 
 trustful and serviceable toward the rich, and not 
 servile or haughty, — so that each class shall be 
 reckoned the friend of the others, — so that he 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS, 91 
 
 that is greatest and he that is least shall alike be 
 the servant of all, — tlien religion has not done 
 the work which it was appointed to do. With a 
 church free, — free, not with inferences and con- 
 ditions that encroach upon self-respect, but abso- 
 lutely free, — I feel sure that many, many more 
 of these classes would find their way into the 
 courts of the sanctuary, and that it would be 
 much more a sanctuary than it is now. 
 
 But how shall the church be paid for ? The 
 warmest missionary feeling does not pay a debt 
 which is represented by coin. Veiy well. A 
 community that is able to build a church, and sell 
 pews, is able to build a church without selling the 
 pews. If you are rich enough to build a church 
 for yourself, you are rich enough to build it for 
 your neighbors. If you are able to own a pew, 
 you are able to give it away. I do not mean that 
 you can do both, but you can do one as well as 
 the other. Churches are now built mainly by 
 voluntary contributions. Let them still be built 
 by voluntary contributions ; only, when they are 
 built, let them be churches, and not ecclesiastical 
 drawing-rooms. Make your church as fine as 
 you will, only not too fine to be trodden by dusty 
 feet. Let it be just as good as you can afford to 
 give away in the name of the Lord, and no better; 
 for, beyond this, sin lieth at the door. 
 
 But, besides the original outlay, come the con- 
 tmuous expenses of preaching, and all the minor 
 
92 CHUR CH-SITTINGS. 
 
 details. What of these ? I would have every 
 one of jou, upon the first day of the week, lay by 
 him m store as God hath prospered him. Let the 
 " contribution-box " be carried around on Sunday, 
 and every man decide for himself and between 
 himself and God alone. Then the rich man may 
 give of his abundance, and the poor man of his 
 poverty, and both out of the love of their hearts. 
 Then the poor man may feel that he is doing his 
 part toward bearing the good tidings to a sor- 
 rowful world ; and if he cannot bring a lamb 
 witliuut blemish, nor yet a turtle-dove, nor two 
 young pigeons, his tenth part of an ephah of fine 
 flour shall be a shi-offering holy and acceptable 
 to God. 
 
 Would this give but a precarious support to a 
 pastor ? Not so precarious as that of his Master, 
 who had not where to lay his head, — not so pre- 
 carious as that of Elijah, for whom the ravens were 
 butcher and baker, and whose drink was the brook 
 by the way, — not so precarious even as it is now. 
 The minister would not only have just as much 
 money as he now has, but it would not come to 
 him, as it too often does, grinding, grating, scrap- 
 ing out of rusty purses, with a noise of friction that 
 puts every nerve to the torture ; it would leap out 
 warm from the heart, shining with a love-light 
 brighter than any gleam of gold, and so have to 
 him a worth that no mere money can represent. 
 As ministers receive tlieir salaries now, it is nei- 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 93 
 
 ther one thing nor anotlier. It is not a tax which 
 people must pay or go to prison, and it is not a 
 gift which blesseth him that gives and him that 
 takes. It has neither the inexorableness of the 
 one, nor the spontaneity of the other. It has free- 
 will enough to admit of grumbling, and not enough 
 to excite gratitude. It is a miserable half-and-half 
 thing, all that I have ever seen of it. I do not 
 mean that every man of a parish makes his " min- 
 ister's tax " a disagreeable matter ; but there is 
 more or less — generally more — disagreeableness 
 to contend with in every parish. The very term 
 " minister's tax " is harsh. It does state exactly 
 what many people mean. It is not a free-will 
 offering to help spread the Gospel. It is not a 
 man's part to support the government. It is sim- 
 ply and solely the minister's tax ; and it is not, and 
 never will be, pleasant to have a man take you 
 by the throat, and exclaim, " Pay me that thou 
 owest." It is far too often that this sum is paid 
 as if it were a personal charity to the minister. A 
 grumbles because he is called on to subscribe thir- 
 ty-five, while B, who is worth twice as much as 
 he, only pays thirty, and C " signs off" from the 
 parish, and pays nothing at all, and it is a burden 
 everywhere. By having a system of free offerings, 
 all this would be abrogated. Every man would 
 be his own guide, and antagonisms would be 
 soothed away. He that pays, pays unto the Lord, 
 and he that pays not, unto the Lord he doth not 
 
94 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 pay It, and liimself is the only judge. He knows 
 his own circumstances better than anotlier, and 
 upon each returning Sabbath he gives as God has 
 prospered him. He is not mulcted in a fine, but 
 to the Saviour who died for him he brino-s a thank- 
 
 o 
 
 offering, grateful. It is the helping hand which 
 Jesus permits him to reach forth to save the world. 
 It is the effort he can make to cause that Christ 
 shall not have died in vain. 
 
 Why appeal to the lower part of man's nature, 
 when there is a higher open to appeal ? Why 
 insist that that shall be only a duty which might 
 just as well be a delight ? All men are generous, 
 if you but approach them generously ; or rather 
 all men have a capacity for generosity, and, if it be 
 not developed, it ought to be gently and genially 
 educated into development. If it do not unfold* 
 in the kindly sunshine, there is surely no good in 
 trying to split it open with a hammer. Men will 
 sometimes pay the " minister's tax " loath, but the 
 Gospel suffers more harm than it receives good 
 from their money. " Of every man that giveth 
 it willingly witli his heart, ye shall take my offer- 
 ing," commanded Jehovah to Moses. What was 
 the result ? " They spake unto Moses, saying. 
 The people bring much more than enough for 
 
 the service of the work And Moses gave 
 
 commandment, .... saying, Let neither man nor 
 woman make any more work for the offering of 
 the sanctuary For the stuff they had was 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 95 
 
 sufficient, and too muchy Just so I believe it 
 would be if we would have more faith in God 
 and in the better parts of human nature, and less 
 dependence on taxes and securities. Ministers 
 would not only have a '' support " for the body, 
 but for the heart and soul, and, perhaps not at 
 first, but after the whole system was in full play, 
 there would be large surplusages to be disposed 
 of. And whatsoever shall seem good to thee and 
 to thy brethren to do with the rest of the silver 
 and gold, that do after the will of your God. 
 
 Another objection urged against church com- 
 munism is, that it destroys the sweet and tender 
 associations which cluster around the family pew. 
 But does it of necessity ? Things in general have 
 a wonderful tendency to fall into grooves. In a 
 certain part of Massachusetts there are commons 
 extending some eight miles. As you approach 
 them from the city a sign-board entreats, " Don't 
 rut the roads." Seeing that travellers have the 
 whole pasture-land before them, one would sup- 
 pose it to be easy to comply with this request ; 
 but, in spite of broad commons and supplicating 
 sign-board, right along in the same track goes 
 carriage after carriage, wearing deeper and deeper 
 ruts into the sandy soil, till it is already become 
 harder for a light wagon to get oif the track than 
 it seems to be for many steam-carriages. Would 
 not the same principle obtain in churches ? AVould 
 not families naturally fall into the same places? 
 
96 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 and, especially if they wished to do It, would they 
 not find it easy of accomijlishment ? Are there not 
 in our cha})els and vestries at evening meetings 
 certain seats w^liere you always expect to find 
 certain people? Do you not know precisely where 
 to look for Deacon Smith and his wife ? Are not 
 'Squire Jones and his family always here, and Dr. 
 Brown and his sister always there, or tliereabouts, 
 and all without any quarrelling or luhhyiiig ? And 
 if, instead of chapel and occasional meetings, it 
 w£re church and reo-ular service, would not the 
 tendency be still stronger ? I rather think affairs 
 would arrange themselves so that a family which 
 would fill a pew would be allowed to occupy a 
 pew just as regularly as if it had a quitclaim deed 
 to it ; and, of course, the longer a family occupies 
 one pew, the stronger becomes its claim to it. Is 
 not this enough for association ? It surely will 
 not be said that ownership is necessary. Nobody 
 will maintain that a pair of lovers -can have no 
 tender reminiscences of moonlit walks by summer 
 seas because they do not hold the ocean in fee 
 simple. 
 
 But supposing it were true that associations 
 would be somewhat disturbed, or even forestalled, 
 would that be really a conclusive fact? The 
 church Is pre-eminently for social worship. The 
 associations appropriate to it belong to the great 
 family of Christ. There, God is our Father, Jesus 
 our elder brother, and all who love him and all 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 97 
 
 who seek him are his children. All kinship of the 
 flesh ou^ht to he subordinate to this kinship of 
 spirit. At the family altar you offer your family 
 worship. By the very act of going to church 
 your family yields, for the time, its family life, 
 throwino; it into the commonwealth, and becomino; 
 a part of the great congregation^ and the great 
 congregation becomes, or should become, one in 
 Christ Jesus our Lord. What, then, have any 
 one's personal associations to do against the utmost 
 freedom of admittance ? Between memories and 
 a blank, one would of course choose memories ; 
 but between my memories and my brother's life 
 is there any room for choice? Shall the poor 
 man's children, for whom Christ died, be ex- 
 cluded from the sanctuary, that your children 
 may look back in their maturity to some particular 
 place in it with a soft sadness and love ? Shall 
 the doors be closed to his children, that the walls 
 may be more attractive to yours ? Shall the poor 
 man be shut out of the church, that the rich man 
 may be shut into a pew ? 
 
 If churches were filled under the present man- 
 agement, the principle would remain the same, 
 though the practice would lose the most superflu- 
 ous of its odious features. It would still be invidi- 
 ous for the rich to enjoy a Gospel which was not 
 available to the poor. But the offset would be 
 that a rich man's soul is worth just as much as a 
 poor man's soul ; and whether you pay for a pow 
 
 5 G 
 
98 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 five hundred dollars or nothing, a church can be 
 no more than filled, and, having filled all, the duty 
 would be to build others. But how many churches 
 are there where full ranks are the rule, and vacan- 
 cies the exception, — where, morning or evening, 
 there is no opportunity to say, " And yet there is 
 room " ? 
 
 A man, poor in money, but rich in mental and 
 moral treasures, tried to obtain a seat for himself 
 and his family in one of the Boston churches, — 
 one to which he was drawn by the peculiar adap- 
 tation of the pastor's preaching to his own spiritual 
 wants. He was willing to take the lowest seat in 
 the synagogue ; but even that he found, upon in- 
 quiry, to be utterly beyond his means. So he goes 
 roaming about the city, now at this church, now at 
 that, now at none, belonging nowhere, nowhere at 
 home. I went one afternoon to the one at whose 
 door he had knocked in vain. I judged at least 
 one half the seats to be empty. Do you think I 
 did not long to go up into that pulpit and preach 
 a sermon at which both the ears of every one that 
 heard it should tingle ? Woe unto you. Scribes 
 and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye shut up the 
 kingdom of Heaven against men ; for ye neither 
 go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are 
 entering to go in. 
 
 A courteous and Christian writer, quoting cer- 
 tain remarks regarding pew-locking in the first 
 part of this article, while putting in a gentle and 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 99 
 
 partial defence of the custom, thinks the remarks 
 are too sweeping, and that there is in them noth- 
 ing of the sweet spirit of the Gospel. Perhaps 
 not, but the Gospel has other spirits than the sweet 
 one ; and I submit that, when one stands face to 
 face with a custom which openly and systemati- 
 cally causes that the poor have not the Gospel 
 preached unto them, it is no time for the exercise 
 or the display of such a spirit. It was not the 
 sweet spirit of the Gospel which the Pharisees 
 heard in Christ's indignant thunders. It was 
 rather the strong, yet such a strong as brings forth 
 sweetness. Nay, I may almost say it was the sweet 
 spirit, but revealing itself in another guise. It was 
 the same Divine love and pity that shone in his 
 tenderest words, — love for the poor, the ignorant, 
 the oppressed, — which fired his lips against those 
 who misled and oppressed them. And when, now, 
 after the Gospel has had free course to run and be 
 glorified for these eighteen hundred years, whole 
 communities name themselves with Christ's name, 
 and then, in order to receive the benefits of that 
 Gospel whose own proof of its divinity is that it is 
 to be preached unto the poor, form themselves into 
 a close corporation which none can enter but by 
 payment of a fee that is entirely beyond the means 
 of a large majority of the people, it seems to me a 
 spectacle that w^ould have received the severest 
 denunciations of Christ, and should receive the 
 severest reprobation of Christians. 
 
100 CHUR CH-SITTINGS. 
 
 To the law and to the testimony. If the Bible 
 sanctions this practice, it is right. If the Bible 
 discourages it, it is wrong. But if it is not direct- 
 ly opposed to all the tendencies of Bible teachings, 
 then Bible teachings are not plain enough to be 
 understood by a common mind. If it is opposed 
 to the Bible, then the men who advocate and up- 
 hold it are bound to show cause for their action. 
 The burden of proof lies with them, and not with 
 those who point out the discrepancy. Slavery is 
 the mother of abominations. It is not for the 
 assailants of slavery to stay their hands out of re- 
 gard to the possible virtue of many slaveholders. 
 It is for the virtuous slaveholders to come forth 
 and demonstrate their virtue. I will not say that 
 the people who lock pews and monopolize preach- 
 ing are not Christians. Sanctification is a grad- 
 ual process, and a man may be sanctified to the 
 degree of going to church himself, and not to the 
 degree of going out into the highways and alleys 
 and inviting his brother to come to church. But 
 a general view cannot take in individual virtues, 
 and the general view shows the great majority 
 without a church-home, or any means to provide 
 one, and the small minority sitting in state in their 
 splendid waste-places ; this is not Christianity, but 
 thoughtlessness, selfishness, stupidity, pride, mak- 
 ing a great gap between the supply and demand 
 of the bread of life ; and this wickedness, as disas- 
 trous in its reflex as in its direct influence, and the 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 101 
 
 people who, professing to be guided by the teach* 
 ings of Christ, cherish or permit this wickedness, 
 cannot fail to receive, in this respect, the unquali- 
 fied censure of those who believe that " inasmuch 
 as ye did it not to the least of these, my brethren, 
 ye did it not to me." 
 
 When it is asked, " If I am able to do thus 
 and so, if I am able to hire a $ 5,000 man and a 
 $300 pew to hear him in, have I not a perfect 
 right to do it, — just as much as I have a right to 
 send my children to expensive schools beyond my 
 neighbor's reach ? " No, I answer emphatically, 
 you have no such riglit, if there is any truth in 
 the Bible, — if a Christ ever lived and died. You 
 have a right, but it is a pagan right, a legal right, 
 a right under the code of Justinian, not under the 
 code of Jesus. Under the Law, every man looketh 
 to the things of his own ; but under the Gospel, to 
 the things of his neighbor. There needed no cru- 
 cified Saviour to tell us that we might secure for 
 ourselves the best things possible. We should have 
 known that without the cross. But Christ died, 
 the just for the unjust, and placed us forever under 
 the most solemn bonds to love our neighbor as 
 ourselves. Where our tastes conflict with our 
 neighbor's life, we have no riglit to indulge them. 
 Unless the world is to be saved by some other 
 foolishness than that of preaching, we have no 
 right to keep preaching away from the world. If 
 you think the Gospel is not necessary to men, or 
 
102 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 if you think church services are not the best way, 
 or not a good way, to present the Gospel to men, 
 that is another question. But if you think church 
 services, at least at present, are pre-eminently the 
 " means of grace," — so pre-eminently that those 
 who are brought to Christ from beyond the limits of 
 church influences are rare and remarkable excep- 
 tions, — then you have no right to indulge in church 
 luxuries whose effect is to remove from your broth- 
 er church necessities. You shall not spread for 
 yourself a feast of fat things, while Christ's little 
 ones all around you are famishing for bread. 
 
 It is said that a free-church system is impracti- 
 cable. What does impracticable mean ? Every- 
 thing is impracticable till it is put in practice. I 
 am told that there are already several churches 
 conducted on this plan. A slight sketch of the 
 origin and history of such a church might be more 
 useful than a great deal of theoretical talk. But 
 the success or failure of any single enterprise of 
 this nature does not settle the question, any more 
 than the success or failure of any one attempt at 
 congregational singing settles the question of cho- 
 ral or congregational music. So many circum- 
 stances come in to complicate matters, that one 
 needs laroje induction. 
 
 The experiment may be tried in bad faith, in a 
 manner so hasty, injudicious, and half-and-half, 
 that no good result shall follow. Begin without 
 harmony, understanding, sagacity, confidence, en- 
 
CHURCh-SiTTINGS. 103 
 
 thuslasm, or tact, and of course it will fail. Any- 
 thing would fail under such circumstances. Grasp 
 it so that you can have purchase before a failure 
 shall be considered final. Let people be interest- 
 ed. Let them feel the matter to be of as great 
 importance as if they had embarked in it their 
 whole fortune. Let them be determined to suc- 
 ceed. The Hindoos and Siamese are not made to 
 pay " minister's tax," nor pew-rent ; and if it is 
 possible to send a free Gospel all around the globe, 
 shall it be easily considered impossible to dispense 
 it to the heathen and the half-Christianized — and 
 these two classes very nearly exhaust the popula- 
 tion — at our own doors ? Let the children of 
 light be as wise in their generation as the children 
 of this world, let Christian men organize as saga- 
 ciously for Christ as politicians organize for poli- 
 tics, let it be felt to be as essential to bring people 
 to church on Sunday as it is to bring voters to 
 the polls on election-day, and many an impracti- 
 cability would pass into an accomplishment. 
 
 To give money to build a church in a pov- 
 erty-stricken locality, to support it by contribu- 
 tions, and occasional attendance from neighboring 
 churches, and make it a kind of pet charity, may 
 be a Christian deed ; but it is not establishing, and 
 scarcely is it trying, the free-church system. To 
 retain personal possession of the pews in a church, 
 and all the appurtenances of church-ownership, 
 while saying that the church is glad to have all 
 
104 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 come who choose, is not a fair, adequate, and hon- 
 orable experiment of the free-church system ; and 
 unless the experiment is fairly tried, it is not tried 
 at all. To drag along after an idea, is not t^ test 
 its practicability. Gather into your hand all the 
 elements, and give it a body and an arena, and 
 then it may prove its powers. Let there be dis- 
 cussions, deliberations, votes, and whatever legal 
 formalities may be necessary to furnish a firm foun- 
 dation. If a church is to be formed, or one al- 
 ready existing as a monopoly is to be thrown open 
 to all, let it be done intelligently. Let its position 
 be first clearly seen, and then clearly shown, its 
 plans and purposes laid before the public, and all 
 
 — families, individuals, transient visitors, residents 
 
 — invited to form, for the time, one church. It is 
 true, as has been alleged, that this would bring in 
 a great number who would not be the poor and 
 devout, but mere curiosity-seekers. But this, so 
 far from being an objection, is an inducement. 
 Nothing innocent is an objection which brings 
 responsible beings into a church. That alone is 
 objectionable which keeps them out. If the church 
 is what it ought to be, it will ignore a man's mo- 
 tives in coming. No matter what he came for, 
 satisfied that it has him there, let it go to work 
 and improve the time. Does the Spirit of God act 
 only upon those who decorously pray for him ? Do 
 regeneration and sanctification come only to those 
 who deliberately seek them in their careless days ? 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 105 
 
 Paul had a worse motive than curiosity in going to 
 Damascus. He was breathing out threatenings 
 and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, but 
 suddenly there shined round about him a light 
 from Heaven. The motives which take a man to 
 tlie house of God lie between himself and his 
 Malver. The only facts which concern us are by 
 any honorable means to get him there, and then 
 build him up in the nurture and admonition of the 
 Lord. If he be worldly, indifferent, attracted only 
 by novelty or a name, drifting, unprincipled, so 
 much the more is his casual presence in the church 
 to be desired. If he will not go from principle, 
 how fortunate that he will go from whim ! There, 
 truth has him at an advantage, and may hope to 
 conquer the evil spirit. The opportunity may 
 never come again, but this once you have drawn 
 him out of his fortifications. You can force him 
 to do battle on your own ground. It may be that, 
 in the midst of his carelessness and curiosity, sud- 
 denly a light from Heaven shall shine round about 
 him. And he which converteth a sinner from the 
 error of his ways — whether he be a citizen or a 
 stranger — saves a soul from death. 
 
 Do you say that this filling of churches with a 
 flitting audience will still preclude the poor from 
 attendance on the sanctuary ? Fly swiftly round, 
 ye wheels of time, and bring the happy day when 
 there are not churches enough for the people who 
 wish to worship ! 
 
106 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 How terrible would be our dally walks, if our 
 streets were filled with the 
 
 " Friendless bodies of unburied men " ! 
 
 How dreadful to o;o on our errands of business 
 
 CD 
 
 or pleasure, if at every step we were forced to 
 touch, witli shuddering feet, the lifeless taberna- 
 cles of departed souls, — stumbling here against a 
 prostrate body, turning aside to avoid another 
 there, looking down upon them lying in heaps 
 under our parlor windows, and, in spite of every 
 effort, brought continually in contact with crum- 
 bling clay ! We take good care that this shall not 
 happen. We make no question here of wealth 
 or poverty. A man may be ever so poor, but 
 once let the breath leave his body, and he is im- 
 mediately taken care of. Once ceasing to be a 
 man, and becoming a thing, church and state 
 both come in ; solemn rites are said, prayer and 
 psalm and funeral hymn are not wanting. De- 
 cently, reverently, — whether the past has known 
 the rags of a pauper or the purple of a king, — 
 the carbon and hydrogen and phosphorus that have 
 been honored with the presence of a soul are laid 
 back in the bosom of the great mother, — earth to 
 earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 
 
 But a decaying body is not so pernicious as a 
 decaying soul. The soul that has lost its principle 
 of life, not only passes on to its own destruction, 
 but it taints whatever it touches. The souls that 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS, 107 
 
 go to and fro in the market-places, nnsanctified, 
 unholy, unloving, thinking of no beauty, caring 
 for no purity, havmg no hope and without God in 
 the world, — are not only eating away their own 
 life, but they are corroding society. An evil soul 
 is not only an evil substance, but an evil influ- 
 ence. It preys upon itself, and upon all around 
 it. It is a missionary, as much more successful 
 than ordained evangelists, as the line of its oper- 
 ations lies with, and not against, the current. It 
 pollutes the earth, and vitiates the air. It is at 
 once the nucleus and stimulus of evil. When it 
 shall have fled, wailing, from the body which it has 
 degraded, you will bestir yourself, giving to the 
 suffering slave an attention which you denied to 
 the far more deeply suff'ering master. But why 
 can you not open to souls your church, as well as 
 to bodies your churchyards ? You will have your 
 dead buried out of your sight. Be equally faithful 
 to have the sin-smitten soul buried with Christ in 
 baptism, to rise with him in newness of life. 
 
 I am loath to leave this subject. I am so sure 
 that nothing will come of what I have said. The 
 thing which has been is that which shall be. One 
 little boat cleaves the ocean-wave, but the ocean 
 closes again, and there is no change. Yet I pray 
 you do not pass carelessly by. If what I have 
 said is not well said, do you say it better. If it 
 is not truly said, utter you the truth. If this is 
 not a good way to bring the Gospel to the poor. 
 
108 CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 show a good way. If it is not the best, show a 
 better. It is not a matter that can be let alone 
 safely, — either for the world or for yourself. We 
 are each his brother's keeper, and we shall sure- 
 ly be inquired of one day concerning the trust. 
 We can hardly yet render a satisfactory account. 
 What I see is church edifices half filled, church 
 organizations half torpid, and cities eager and 
 crowded ; the Gospel not reaching the tenth part 
 of the people, and the people every one of them 
 going on inexorably into life, going down inevita- 
 bly to death. What I want to see is every church 
 made the glowing centre of all moral, intellectual, 
 and social life ; a city of refuge for all who are in 
 any trouble of mind, body, or estate ; a city of re- 
 joicing for all who are rich and increased in goods, 
 and have need of nothing ; the dread and rebuke 
 of unrepentant evil-doers, the counsellor and com- 
 forter of repentant ; the dispenser of solace, the 
 promoter of joy, the home of the homeless, the 
 friend of the friendless ; warm in love, wise in 
 action, quick in sympathy, sagacious in council ; 
 the house of God, the very gate of heaven. To 
 bring about this most Christian end, I know no 
 better means than that thou shouldst keep the feast 
 unto the Lord thy God with a tribute of a free-will 
 offering of thine hand, which thou shalt give unto 
 the Lord thy God, according as the Lord thy God 
 hath blessed thee ; and thou shalt rejoice before the 
 Lord thy God, thou, and thy son, and thy daughter, 
 
CHURCH-SITTINGS. 
 
 109 
 
 and thy man-servant, and thy maid-servant, and 
 the Levite that is within thy gates, and the stranger, 
 and the fatherless, and the widow that are among 
 you, in the place which the Lord thy God hath 
 chosen to place his name there. 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 l^^^j^HEN a new thing is to be introduced 
 to the pubhc, machinery must be used. 
 
 i>\^, \fj| A missionary, going to preach Christ 
 *^f5^1^ among a people that never heard of 
 him, must probably have recourse to measures 
 which he would not need to employ with a nomi- 
 nally Christian people. The latter know all that 
 it is necessary to know about Christianity. What 
 they need is to learn Christianity itself. They 
 are to be led to church and to religion by the true 
 service of the one and the inherent excellence of 
 the other. There is very little use in exhorting 
 them to go to church, and there is no use at all 
 in upbraiding them after they get there for not 
 going. The first is like repairing a deranged 
 clock by setting the pendulum a-going with your 
 finger. It makes a few oscillations and stops, for 
 the trouble lies above among the wheels. By 
 outside influences you may induce a feeble swing 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. Ill 
 
 between house and cliurcli, but you will never 
 make a vigorous vibration till you go in among 
 the cords and cogs and put the vital mechanism 
 in order. Nor is clerical remonstrance any more 
 effective tJian lay effort. It is not objectionable 
 on the ground of lawfulness, but of expediency. 
 I have not an overweening admiration of that 
 bland serenity which never speaks a severe word. 
 As a freak of nature it is curious and pleasant to 
 contemplate, especially where circumstances are 
 so arranged that there is no call for severity ; but 
 as things usually are, a good plain rebuke, rare 
 but thorough, not fringing off into sullenness and 
 pouting, but sharp at the edges and solid in the 
 middle and well set in sunshine, clears the air 
 and accomplishes purposes ; yet in the pulpit it 
 does not accomplish the purpose desired, because 
 the people who feel it are the people who do not 
 deserve it, and because it has not generally a good 
 basis. It is not surprising if ministers often feel 
 moved to administer it, nor that they often do 
 administer it. But it will not effect much, for 
 it is not striking at the root of the matter. Lions, 
 it is well known, do not write history, and conse- 
 quently do not make any great figure in history. 
 In our ecclesiastical dramas the congregations 
 play the part of the lions, and the clergy are the 
 historians. The minister has " centralization," 
 the habit of writing and speaking, and the pulpit. 
 The congregation is heterogeneous, unorganized, 
 
112 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 unaccustomed to making periods. The minister 
 has presented his story very fully, and no doubt 
 very truly ; but we have seldom, if ever, been 
 called to look at the truth from the " congregation 
 side." But why should a minister think himself 
 justified in complaining of his small audience, any 
 more than a lawyer of his few clients, or a physi- 
 cian of his few patients, or a shop-keeper of his 
 few patrons ? There may be especial obstacles in 
 especial cases, but, as a general thing, if a doctor 
 is skilful, people find it out, and employ him. If 
 the grocer has good coffee and spices, he will have 
 good customers. But if the minister fails of hear- 
 ers, it is because people are cold and dead. Per- 
 haps so, but is it not his own hand that killed 
 them ? Men want spiritual food much more than 
 they want sugar and coffee ; and if a minister can 
 discover and provide the thing which they need, 
 why must we suppose that they would not follow 
 natural laws and apply to him ? Why are people 
 in the one case simply acting after their kind, and 
 in the other case giving themselves over to the 
 god of this world ? Because the doctor and the 
 lawyer have to do with this world's interests, 
 while the minister treats only of spiritual things. 
 But spiritual things belong to the world as much 
 as physical things, nay, more. GodHness is as 
 profitable for the life that now is, as for that which 
 is to come. Ministers often plant themselves on 
 the fact that they preach the Gospel, as if that 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 113 
 
 were the conclusion of the whole matter. Au- 
 diences may be small, faith feeble, thermometers 
 low, but they preach the Gospel whether men 
 will hear or forbear. But it is not the Gospel 
 that men go to church to get. They have at 
 home as much Gospel as there is. What they 
 need in church is to have the Gospel explained, 
 applied, enforced. The Gospel may be in a way 
 preached without any real explanation, applica- 
 tion, or impression. The mere fact that a man 
 preaches the Gospel, is not conclusive as to the 
 nature of the work which he is doino;. Men 
 ought to be aroused, stimulated, impelled. Their 
 attention must be commanded, if not by duties, 
 then by devices. But this is " sensation" preach- 
 ing. Well, all preaching is sensation preaching. 
 You cannot sit still and hear a man talk for 
 half an hour or an hour without some kind of a 
 sensation. The only question is as to what kind. 
 Shall it be a sensation of interest, or indifference ? 
 Of resolution, or weariness ? Of repentance, or 
 disgust ? There is much unnecessary alarm in 
 this respect, — unnecessary, if one looks at it from 
 the pewsy however it may seem from the pulpit. 
 A correspondent of the Congregationalist, in the 
 early part of the war, was troubled because a 
 daily journal advertised a series of sermons on the 
 Military Heroes of the Bible, to be concluded by 
 one on " Jesus, the Captain of our Salvation." I 
 must confess I cannot see the smallest objection, 
 
114 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 either to preaching the sermons, or announcing 
 that you are going to do so. I should think that 
 very apt and excellent discourses might be written 
 on that theme. There are military heroes in the 
 Bible, — witness Abraham, Joshua, David, — and 
 there are valuable lessons for us in their career 
 and character. At that juncture of affairs, the 
 lessons afforded by the military portion of their 
 lives were peculiarly apposite. We have Scrip- 
 tural authority for calling Christ the Captain of 
 our salvation, and the term has now for us a 
 stronger meaning than ever before. All military 
 character and experience are invested with new 
 interest. Why not, then, strike while the iron is 
 hot ? I should think it was just the thing to do. 
 If ministers find that they can induce people to 
 come to church by adopting some such " cry," 
 they are surely justified in doing it. Would they 
 be justified in not doing it ? True, the intelligent, 
 devout Christian may not need any such stimu- 
 lant, and, if he have a cultivated mind and delicate 
 taste, may rather dislike it. But the intelligent, 
 devout Christian is not to be taken into the ac- 
 count here, because he knows the way to the 
 Saviour, He is in the right road, and may be left 
 to himself. Christ came not to call the righteous, 
 but sinners, to repentance. It is the worldly, the 
 careless, the frivolous, the reckless, who need to 
 be lured to God ; and if their weakness and wick- 
 edness can be touched by catch-words, let us use 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 115 
 
 them. Paul was a thoroughly orthodox and a tol- 
 erably able and successful preacher, and he tells 
 us his manner of working : " Unto the Jews I 
 became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews ; to 
 them that are under the law, as under the law, 
 that I might gain them that are under the law ; 
 to them that are without law, as without law, that 
 I mio'ht gain them that are without law. To the 
 zceak became I as weaJc^ that I might gain the weak; 
 1 am 7nade all things to all men^ that I might by all 
 means save some^ " Even as I please all men 
 in all things. " If the services of the sanctuary 
 are helps to heaven, if men are more likely to be 
 led to Christ by going to church than by staying 
 away, we can hardly be too eager to gather them 
 in ; and to seize our military fever at its height, 
 and make it an instrument of moral improvement, 
 was a clever stratagem, a tripping of Satan in his 
 own net, which should call forth admiration rather 
 than censure. And if it is right to do it, it is right 
 to say you are going to do it, and to say it in 
 the most public manner. It would be very de- 
 lightful if everybody belonged to some church, 
 and walked in all its ordinances blameless. We 
 should then need only the notice from the pulpit, 
 and each man would wend his orderly way to his 
 own church ; but while there are so many who 
 flit from place to place, perhaps to church, per- 
 haps to concert, possibly to club, we will not only 
 make them a feast of fat thino-s in our church- 
 
116 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 es, but we will go out into the highways and 
 hedges with our invitations, and compel them to 
 come in, that the house may be full. When every 
 man has his own plot of ground in Zion, and can 
 sit under his own vine and fig-tree, we will all 
 stay at home and cultivate our own farms with 
 gladness and singleness of heart ; but while the 
 sad earth spreads out her waste places, blessed are 
 ye that sow beside all waters. 
 
 It is objected, that all this savors of the theatre, 
 and conceals the pure word of God with a mere- 
 tricious glow. But it is ricrht to learn even of an 
 enemy. You may go to a theatre night after 
 night, and find it filled with attentive crowds ; 
 while in the same city the churches yawn with 
 empty pews. May not the secret of this large 
 audience and this rapt attention be seized by the 
 children of light ? Is there not something in 
 the mastery which the actor obtains over the 
 assembly — something apart from the nature of 
 the entertainment — of which the minister may 
 legitimately possess himself, and which, if he be 
 wise in his generation, he may use with more than 
 an actor's power ? A clergyman of eminent parts 
 and position went once into a newsboy's theatre 
 for the express purpose of seeing " how it was 
 done " ; and, said he, " I learned more about 
 preaching there than I ever did at a meeting. I 
 was a good deal more insighted into human nature 
 when I came out than when I went in." So far 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 117 
 
 as a theatre understands and ap2:)lies natural laws, 
 let our churches Tdc theatrical. 
 
 Yet, "What are we coming to?" ask good 
 men despondingly, in view of such innovations. 
 Would that one could reassure them by answering, 
 " Nothing in particular." From a laj point of 
 view, it seems impossible to believe that the mis- 
 chief which lies in this direction is worthy to be 
 compared to the mischief which lies in the oppo- 
 site direction. The prejudice against " sensation 
 preachers " appears much more unreasonable than 
 any success which they may have attained. Let 
 the " Reverend Graphic " alone. He is doing a 
 good w^ork. He that is not against us is on our 
 part. The point is to cast out devils. If he suc- 
 ceeds in that, let us not forbid him, though he 
 followeth not us. There is no man that can cast 
 out devils in Christ's name that can lightly speak 
 evil of him. Is this a begging of the question ? 
 But can it be proved that the Reverend Graphic 
 really accomplishes less good than the Reverend 
 Prosy ? May be he cannot cast out your partic- 
 ular devil ; may be not mine ; but their name is 
 Legion, and it shall go hard but some wdll get a 
 wound. What seems rhodomontade in a quiet 
 •country village, may seem chaste and correct 
 discourse in a fast and furious city. What seems 
 rough to the cultivated hearer, may be but natu- 
 ral to the uncultivated. What would be startling 
 and incongruous to you, might only tempt the 
 
118 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 palled appetite of another. If an angel from 
 heaven preach any other than Ihe true Gospel, 
 let him be accursed ; but if he preach the true 
 Gospel, let him have free course, whether he 
 preach it with drums beating and colors flying, 
 or with the still, small voice. Let all things be 
 done decently and in order, and, as far as possible, 
 with elegance ; but there are, it may be, so many 
 kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is 
 without signification. If a little engineering, a lit- 
 tle stir, a little show, a little craft (of the Pauline 
 kind), a little melodramatism, can draw men to the 
 courts of the Lord, let no one shrink from the sac- 
 rifice of his own tastes, if by any means — hy any 
 means — he may save some. What said Paul ? 
 Some m his day preached Christ even of envy and 
 strife, to say nothing of " sensation " and vain- 
 glory ; some of contention, not sincerely, supposing 
 to add affliction to his bonds. What then ? Not- 
 withstanding, every way, whether in pretence or 
 in truth, Christ was preached; "And I therein 
 do rejoice," cried the glorious, great-hearted man, 
 "yea, and will rejoice." 
 
 The fear of anything unusual, or not conformed 
 to the canons of correct taste, sometimes goes so 
 far that one might almost think an attractive 
 pulpit were presumptive evidence of an heretical 
 pulpit. To enliven and adorn it is to depreciate 
 it. Men admire, in a minister, agreeable manners, 
 a cultivated voice, apt and elegant language, rich 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 119 
 
 and forcible illustration, and are immediately re- 
 minded of " one that hath a pleasant voice, and 
 can play well on an instrument." How many 
 and many times have I heard that quoted by 
 clergy and laity, and almost invariably misquoted. 
 One would suppose, from its application, that 
 God's people in old time turned away from the 
 true prophet, who spoke somewhat roughly, to 
 listen to the false prophet with the pleasant voice 
 and the skilful hand. On the contrary, it was the 
 true prophet who spoke sweetly. The Lord said 
 unto Ezekiel, " Thou art unto them as a very 
 lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and 
 can play well on an insti-ument." Instead of 
 making against these accomplishments, it makes 
 strongly in their favor. The man whom the Lord 
 made a watchman unto the house of Israel went 
 out on his errand, not only fired with the zeal of 
 the prophet, but clothed with the graces of the 
 orator. He ate the roU as he was commanded, 
 but it was in his mouth as honey for sweetness. 
 True, neither the roll nor the honey turned a 
 rebelKous people from the error of its ways. Men 
 heard the lovely song and the pleasant voice, but 
 gave no heed to its teachings. Yet a prophet was 
 among them, as they presently came to know. It 
 is not to be supposed that in our days, any more 
 than in Ezekiel's, a pastor's skill or culture can 
 redeem his people. Even though a Paul plant, 
 even though an ApoUos water, God must give 
 
120 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 the increase. But if Paul understands tlie chem- 
 istry of soils, and the nature of seeds, if lie draws 
 a straight furrow and liolds a steady hand, if he ob- 
 serves times and seasons, making hay while the sun 
 shines, and mendmg tools on rainy days, his fields 
 will be much more likely to yield increase, and 
 will be far finer to look at when they have in- 
 creased, than if he contents Inmself with scatter- 
 ing seed, hit or miss, and pays no regard to con- 
 ditions. 
 
 Again, people who are in search of a minister 
 recount their list of requisites, and are met by the 
 sarcastic advice to repair to heaven for their prod- 
 igy, or by a disquisition on the unreasonableness 
 of people who expect all the gifts and graces for 
 eight hundi'ed dollars a year. But the people are 
 not always so unreasonable as is supposed. They 
 sometimes make great demands, because they do 
 not understand what it is that they want. Girls 
 talk in heroic verse of the virtues which their 
 suitors must possess ; but by and by they marry 
 men who are not taller by the breadth of my nail 
 than any of their contemporaries, and live happy 
 ever after. They have precisely the strength and 
 support and companionship which they need, and 
 never discover that the superlative qualities which 
 they demanded exist in the positive degree, or 
 discover it only to make merry over their own 
 girlish folly. They are not troubled, because they 
 are suited, and that is better than ideal Bayards. 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS 121 
 
 Just so people tallc of clerical perfections ; they 
 know that they want something which they have 
 not, and they get at it as near as they can. But let 
 a man go among them, never heeding their fine 
 words, but with skill to discern their real needs 
 and power to supply them, and their phantom of 
 perfection quickly fades away before the face of the 
 mere man, who breaks for them, not in word only 
 but in truth, the bread of life. He who gives them 
 what they need may dispense with many of the 
 things they talk about. A very warm friend and 
 parishioner of one of the most popular preachers in 
 the country, admitted that he scarcely ever heard 
 a sermon from his pastor in which there was not 
 something to offend the taste. But the fire of his 
 nature consumed all minor defects. His people 
 passed over all the dross, and treasured the fine 
 gold. Arbutlmot was a man of pleasing manners 
 and agreeable exterior. Abernethy was, in popular 
 parlance, "a bear"; but the "lovely song" of the 
 one did not turn his science and skill into dilettan- 
 teism, nor did the gruff rudeness of the other give 
 him in his anterooms one crowd the less. It is 
 not true that people are more unreasonable re- 
 garding their minister than they are regarding 
 other classes of servants. They do not expect 
 the village doctor to manage the complicated and 
 difficult cases ; but they do expect him to take 
 their children comfortably through the mumps and 
 measles. They do not go to the " Cheap Cash 
 
122 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 Store " for silks and broadcloth, but they expect 
 to find there good sheeting at a fair price. They 
 do not complain if their lawyer is not paid three 
 thousand dollars as a retaining fee, but they will 
 not long employ him if there are flaws in his title- 
 deeds. In point of fact, people bear deficiencies 
 in their pastor with far more patience than in any 
 other case that I recollect, except, perhaps, that 
 of teachers. It is partly because they do not 
 know any better. They do not know what a good 
 minister or a good teacher is, and might do, and 
 they plod on ; but of the fact, I thmk there can 
 be no question. A doctor and a lawyer are much 
 more dependent on their professional skill than the 
 minister. People do not apply to the former on 
 the strength of their being excellent men, genial, 
 benevolent, kind-hearted; but the latter is re- 
 tained, respected, and defended against outside 
 detractors, on that very plea. 
 
 Attractiveness is not the prerogative of deprav- 
 ity. The beauty of holiness is winsome. Very 
 few have so distorted their nature by sin as not 
 to be able to see the loveliness of religion. Also, 
 the word of God is positive, aggressive, radical. 
 A minister, then, has to present that which is 
 beautiful to a race which, however degraded, has 
 still an appreciation of the beautiful, and that 
 which is calculated to arouse thought, to a race 
 capable of thinking. Besides this, the minister 
 has other advantages. He holds the key of all 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 123 
 
 hearts in his hand. His position allows him, with- 
 out the faintest suggestion of impertinence, to 
 inquire into the secret hopes, fears, and feelings 
 of his people. If he does this with tenderness 
 and tact, he will not only not be repulsed, but his 
 face will seem to them, as it w^ere, the face of an 
 angel. He will bind them to himself by everlast- 
 ing cords. In every family circle he will be the 
 honored and thrice welcome visitor, the sharer of 
 intimate interests, a revered, a confidential, I had 
 almost said, a sacred friend. The opportunity is 
 before him. Nothing lacks but himself. If he 
 have but the innate wisdom, he may fling repub- 
 Hcanism to the winds, and become such an auto- 
 crat as never Eastern despot dreamed of being. 
 Moreover, he has his pulpit. His people have 
 voluntarily made him their leader. They have 
 put themselves in the attitude of learners, listen- 
 ers, followers. The iron is ready before him ; 
 there needs but the arm to smite, strong and sure. 
 In country villages he has still other advantages. 
 The people have few, if any, concerts, lectures, 
 addresses, wherewithal to amuse themselves. 
 Books and pictures are scarce, and time to con- 
 sult them, limited. The minister, therefore, rep- 
 resents other departments as well as his own. He 
 is not only Paul, but Cicero and Socrates. He 
 is religion, and also literature and the fine arts. 
 His people look to him for guidance in most things 
 that do not pertain to their own employments. 
 
124 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 What right, then, has a sermon to be dull, or a 
 mmister to lose his audience ? If, with all his 
 advantages, he does not command his people, 
 whose fault is it ? He may, indeed, require time. 
 It may take months, perhaps years, for his har- 
 vest to ripen ; but if, wdien sun and shower 
 have done their work, the seed still remains in 
 the ground and there is no fruit, it is possibly not 
 wholly the fault of the ground, but of the farmer 
 who did not till it aright. 
 
 I think it is as much a minister's duty to make 
 sermons interesting as it is to make sermons. A 
 sermon that does not interest an audience is noth- 
 ing to them. I do not say that it must please 
 them, but it must fix them. If a man cannot do 
 that, then, so far as preaching is essential, he 
 ought not to be a minister. The truths with 
 which he has to deal are the most important in 
 the world, and, if he cannot present them forcibly 
 enough to secure attention, he should make way 
 for some one who can. I am not advocating ex- 
 travagance either of word or gesture. Fury and 
 pounding and shouting and starting may startle, 
 but they excite mere animal attention. You can 
 stop a canary-bird's song by hallooing at him. 
 One of the ablest ministers I know — a man 
 whose church is filled every Sunday — is a quiet 
 man. His voice seems not to be raised above the 
 tones of common conversation. He stands in 
 his pulpit a gentleman, dignified, affable, cour- 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 125 
 
 teous. Sometimes his words are roses, and some- 
 times they are cannon-balls. If roses, they have 
 the fragrance of June ; if cannon-balls, they speed 
 straight to the mark. In both cases the charac- 
 teristic of the attention he secures is not so much 
 excitement as fixedness : if this attention depends 
 at all upon his manner, it is manner so impalpable 
 that you see nothing but the man and the matter 
 in their apparently spontaneous expression. 
 
 I hardly know how to say what I wish to say 
 in words that shall, on the one hand, do justice to 
 the unquestionable importance of the subject, and, 
 on the other hand, not do injustice to the real 
 excellence against which no word should be 
 spoken. It is at the best an ungracious task to 
 speak of fault or flaw, and the greater the excel- 
 lence in which the .flaw is found, the more unwel- 
 come the duty of pointing it out. But I am the 
 more emboldened to speak, because I am confi- 
 dent that, as the people often do wrong ignorantly, 
 because they have never been warned by their 
 pastor, so the pastor often fails to reach the people 
 from the sheer ignorance of the road. Confident 
 also that the dearest wish of the pastor is to save 
 his people from their sins, I feel sure that many 
 will gladly listen to statements which, whatever 
 may be their intrinsic worth, have at least the 
 value of being honest testimony. 
 
 My testimony is this : so far. as the real exigen- 
 cies of life are concerned, so far as people get any 
 
126 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 help for the week-days from Sunday's sermon, a 
 man might just as well have gone up into the pul- 
 pit and talked in the Old Frisic through the half- 
 hour, as to have preached nine out of ten of all the 
 sermons that I ever heard. They may be excel- 
 lent theological essays, but they are slender helps 
 to right living. In truth, I do not see how it is pos- 
 sible for men who are alive and in the world, and 
 see men and women all around them full of faults, 
 full of virtues, full of weaknesses and meannesses 
 and capacities and peculiarities, and then have 
 a chance to speak, and not say anything about 
 it all. How can a living man have free course 
 for half an hour, and not come in contact with any 
 one either to help or to hurt ? How can a man 
 fire into a crowd for half an hour, and hit nobody ? 
 It must be that the minister does not stand on the 
 same plane with his people. They are congre- 
 gated on the earth. He is groping or charging 
 among the clouds. Like the soldiers at Bunker 
 Hill, he fires over their heads, and, like their offi- 
 cer, one feels moved to cry out, " Shin 'em, boys, 
 shin 'em ! " The people are groaning and trav- 
 ailing in pain, they are bewildered in the laby- 
 rinths of life, they are overwhelmed in the tide of 
 worldliness and ignorance and selfishness and pas- 
 sion, and their minister comes to them with his 
 emasculated abstractions. The people crave 
 bread, and they get — theology. But scorn the- 
 ology, the science of sciences, the central truth ? 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 127 
 
 Nay^ verily. Absorb in your seminaries as much 
 science as you can, but do not transmit it to us 
 raw science. Assimilate and transmute it into 
 the sincere milk of the word, that we may grow 
 thereby. What we, the people want, is not the- 
 ology theological, but theology vital. We do not 
 care for oxygen and nitrogen ; we want air. 
 
 Preach doctrinal sermons, not skeletons, but 
 living organisms, clothed with nerve and sinew 
 and muscle. Preach practical sermons, but let 
 them smell of the soil. There is no gulf between 
 the two. Doctrine and practice are not two 
 things, but two parts of the same thing, — root 
 and fruit of one tree. There is no doctrine that 
 has not man's welfare for its end ; there is no 
 practice that bears on any other object. Juice 
 will not be found in the doctrinal sermons of him 
 whose practical sermons are sapless. How did 
 Christ preach the Gospel ? He forbade family 
 quarrels. He warned his hearers against the evil 
 practices of the Scribes and Pharisees. He bade 
 no one dare to come up to the temple to worship 
 until he had paid his just debts. He not only 
 enjoined upon them not to commit adultery, but 
 told them what the first step in adultery was, that 
 they might shun it. He talked to them about 
 their families, and their lawsuits, and their habit 
 of borrowing. He told them how they should 
 accost people in the street ; what they should give 
 away and how they should give it ; how they 
 
128 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 should pray and how they should keep fast-day. 
 He told them just how religion bore upon their 
 business and their associations. He bade them 
 not to backbite or slander. He warned them 
 against preachers who came preaching false doc- 
 trine. Common things he discussed in common 
 language, enlivening his discourse with pungent 
 questioning, illustrating it by numerous stories, 
 and garnishing it with vivid and beautiful pictures 
 drawn from the summer fields and humble homes 
 around liim. Through it all rang the tender un- 
 dertone of love, — pity for the suffering, strength 
 for the weak, trust and comfort for the poor. 
 O, no wonder the people were astonished at his 
 doctrines, and that when he came down from the 
 mountain great multitudes followed him ! A writ- 
 er in the Congregationalist says that a clergyman 
 once preached on the text, " Thou shalt not 
 steal," and on Monday morning the streets were 
 fiill of people carrying home books and tools 
 which they had borrowed. As soon as they were 
 told what to do, they did it. But so rare is it to 
 hear a sermon that gives one any definite thing to 
 do, or points out any special fault to correct, that an 
 audience sometimes looks with something like sus- 
 picion on such a sermon when it does come. They 
 do not exactly know what to make of it. They 
 are not quite sure it is religion at all, but rather 
 think it is morality; and, as Unitarians are sup- 
 posed to be given over to morality, the minister 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 120 
 
 needs to have years and experience, or his creed 
 may be called in question. Ministers have so 
 narrowed the prerogatives of the Gospel that the 
 people do not know how broad is its domain. The 
 pastor is the educator of his people. Not only their 
 religion, but their morals, their manners, their 
 habits, their politics, are his province. Whatever 
 may be the impression to the contrary, they will 
 not be restive under his rule if he but hold the 
 sceptre wisely. If he but have moral strength, he 
 will surely have moral force. Trouble is the re- 
 sult of undue assumption. Position will not give 
 him force, but it will do much to utilize it. Sug- 
 gestions and inculcations that would be resented 
 from a layman are received respectfully from a 
 clergyman. What would be meddlesome inter- 
 ference in the former, is duty in the latter ; and if 
 the duty be deftly done, people will recognize it. 
 If a man takes hold of his work by the blade in- 
 stead of by the handle, he must expect to cut his 
 fingers, and if he was born blind and cannot tell 
 which is which, he ought not to choose an occupa- 
 tion that requires edge-tools. 
 
 I know a man who, in the midst of a communi- 
 ty hostile to his views, preaches to a church many 
 of whose members are his political opponents. 
 He lays down his principles in plain terms, and 
 inculcates them with gi'eat earnestness, yet with 
 so much grace, tact, and courtesy that even those 
 whose convictions do not yield to his arguments 
 
 6* I 
 
130 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 have a profound respect for his character, and a 
 warm affection for himself. Undoubtedly a peo- 
 ple may become, by a long course of false or fee- 
 ble teaching, so depraved that they will not bear 
 the true light ; but surely the greater part of 
 the churches of New England, in the nineteenth 
 century, will bear all the light which a minister 
 can throw upon them. And at the worst, it is 
 better to be thrust out of the synagogue for speak- 
 ing the truth, than to keep one's place within by 
 suppressing it. 
 
 This tact is no less necessary to the minister 
 out of the pulpit than in it. The position of a 
 minister has a tendency to isolate him, in a meas- 
 ure, from lay humanity. M. Robert Haudin tells 
 us, that dipping his hands into water enabled him 
 to plunge them, without injury, into masses of 
 molten metal. The water changes into a vapor, 
 which interposes between the skin and the fiery 
 mass, and there is no real contact. So we have 
 seen ministers walking about among their people ; 
 life throbs and glows and seethes and rages around 
 them, but they are enveloped in an impalpable, 
 professional atmosphere of their own creating. 
 They hear the dash of the waves ; they see un- 
 happy souls struggling in their pitiless embrace, 
 and O how gladly, how eagerly would they reach 
 out a hand to save ! but the impalpable atmos- 
 phere rolls between, and they cannot come nigh 
 them. 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 131 
 
 It is not so in other professions. The lawyer 
 must possess himself of the facts of the case before 
 he undertakes its charge ; or the reputation and 
 purse, both of himself and his client, will be en- 
 dangered. The doctor must know the symptoms, 
 the delicate sensations, the sharp pains and the 
 dull aches of his case, or his prescriptions are at 
 fault, and his patient dies out of his hands. Client 
 and patient are well aware of this, and need little 
 coaxing to unburden themselves of facts and feel- 
 ings. But that part of a man which comes under 
 the minister's jurisdiction is neither purse nor 
 pulse ; it is only the soul, — the immortal princi- 
 ple which underlies, overtops, and permeates this 
 life, and all future life ; and men are chary of it. 
 Partly from indifference, the result of wilful short- 
 sightedness and ignorance ; partly from a natural 
 timidity and disinclination to bring to light the 
 hidden things of the heart ; partly from actual 
 inability to embody shadowy, half-defined, and not 
 half-understood ideas in words, — men are back- 
 ward in reveahng the symptoms of their diseased 
 souls to him who would gladly help them to a cure. 
 The spiritual physician must feel his way along. 
 He must walk by sympathy, not by sight or sound. 
 He needs a sixth sense to interpret to his heart 
 what his eyes and ears have brought to his brain. 
 He must not content himself with taking a bird's- 
 eye view of the surface of things ; he must drop 
 his line into the deeps and shallows to find out 
 
132 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 whitlier the currents tend, where the undertow 
 lurks, and where the eddies play. He must be on 
 the alert to find out what those influences are 
 which make the cheek flush and the heart throb ; 
 and having found them, he must know when to use 
 them, and when to refrain from using them. He 
 should study to insert the right word in the right 
 place ; to have the power of putting himself, in a 
 moment, in the position of the person whom he 
 wishes to benefit. In fact, I consider this power 
 indispensable in a minister. If he has it not, he 
 has mistaken his calling. It is not possible to be a 
 good pastor, and I do not believe it is possible to 
 be a good preacher, without it. A man may write 
 disquisitions, full of sound doctrine, right reasoning, 
 careful learning, instructive to the reader, and per- 
 haps also to the hearer, valuable contributions to 
 the ecclesiastical literature of his age ; but he can- 
 not thrill along the heart-strings of his people one 
 day in the week, if he rides over them rough-shod 
 the six remaining days. 
 
 To illustrate, in part, what I mean : I once 
 knew a minister — one of the excellent of the earth, 
 humble, devoted, and untiring, willing to spend 
 and be spent in the service of the Lord — who 
 used to strike out after this fashion. He would 
 make a call ; have the whole family assembled, 
 from the father down to the little girl nine years 
 old, and, beginning at the head, pounce upon each 
 in turn, put to them individually the most point- 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 133 
 
 blank questions, express to them in a most decided 
 manner, and with the utmost freedom, his opinion 
 of their character and prospects, give a httle 
 wholesale advise, pointed with a warning, finish 
 off with a prayer, then mount his horse and ride 
 away. But can any man of common sense sup- 
 pose that it will do any good to talk to a father of 
 his sins in the listening presence of three or four 
 half-grown up children ? If a man is beginning to 
 think upon his ways, if he has compunctions of 
 conscience, if he has doubts or fears or hopes 
 which his pastor's hand may do much to remove 
 or strengthen, is this a good opportunity to bring 
 them forward ? Will he be likely to converse 
 freely, — to show the wounded place whereon the 
 balm of Gilead should be laid ? Will a sensitive, 
 shrinking, timid girl be disposed to lay bare her 
 secret heart in the presence of her meriy, romp- 
 ing, careless brothers ? Will she unveil to half a 
 dozen pairs of eyes, the hidden thoughts which are 
 scarcely revealed to her own ? How can a minis- 
 ter be so blind, so ignorant of human nature, as to 
 expect to accomplish anything in this way ? 
 
 I know another case, where a girl of sixteen 
 was propounded for admission to the church. Her 
 pastor visited her a few days before the appointed 
 Sabbath. Several members of her own family and 
 several visitors were assembled in the parlor. The 
 talk was light and discursive. He sat on one 
 side of the room, she on the other. Presently 
 
134 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 there came a lull in the conversation, of which he 
 took advantage. Turning to her he began, in that 
 peculiar tone which, if never heard, cannot be 
 imagined, and, if once heard, need never be de- 
 scribed, "You are about to take a very important 
 step." 
 
 Of course, this remark, being dropped suddenly 
 into the current of conversation, had the effect of 
 a breakwater. Everything was in confusion for 
 a moment. The visitors did not know what it 
 meant. The family, who did, could not, in pohte- 
 ness, rush to the rescue, while the silent victim 
 certainly did not look as if she were capable of tak- 
 ing any step at all. 
 
 Now this good man, and many other good men, 
 would not " needlessly set foot upon a worm," yet 
 day after day they walk, all unconsciously, over 
 quivering nerves. 
 
 Ministers are apt to forget that, to every heart, 
 its own experiences are new and fresh. They 
 know that as in water face answereth to face, so 
 doth the heart of man to man. They have seen 
 the same doubts agitating, the same fears terrify- 
 ing, the same contradictions perplexing, the same 
 hopes dawning, the same promises comforting, the 
 same faith glowing, for ten, twenty, thirty years. 
 They have acquired a professional familiarity with 
 spiritual phenomena, and they forget that these are 
 inwoven with the innermost life of individuals, — 
 that to bring them suddenly into the day is exqui- 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 135 
 
 site torture. It is true that the two-edged sword 
 of Divine truth does sometimes cleave its way 
 down into the heart so deep, so unerring, that the 
 stricken soul seems for a time to lose consciousness 
 of all external things, and cries aloud, " Lord, save 
 or I perish ! " The world recedes ! The sinner 
 stands face to face with his sin, and it is too dread- 
 ful for him ! In such a case, circumstances are 
 little heeded. But oftener the Spirit descends 
 gently, like the dew of Hermon, softening the 
 parched soil and preparing it for heavenly seed. 
 Then, whoever would work in this garden of the 
 Lord should have a skilful hand, a delicate touch. 
 A¥ithout it, he breaks the bruised reed. He 
 wounds when he sought only to heal. He meets 
 silence and apparent coldness, where he would fain 
 find warmth and confidence. He marvels that the 
 ways of Zion mourn, that few come to her solemn 
 feasts. 
 
 But do not always think, 
 
 " Because the song hath ceased, 
 The soul of song hath fled." 
 
 True, the harp is still ; and it may be because 
 music has died out of its chords ; — but may it not 
 also be because your untutored fingers have no 
 power to wake its tone ? 
 
 Again ; what weapons do ministers furnish their 
 young people against infidelity ? How many of 
 their church-members are ready to give a satisfac- 
 tory answer to the Cappadocians and Bithynians 
 
136 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 who might ask them a reason of the hope that is 
 in them ? How many women who have grown 
 tip in a Christian congregation can show any but 
 the most superficial cause why they are Congrega- 
 tionahsts and not Episcopahans ? How many men 
 can tell where truth and falsehood meet in " Es- 
 says and Reviews," or Renan's ''Life of Jesus"? 
 Essays and Reviews? I should be glad if boys 
 and girls generally could repeat the Ten Com- 
 mandments in order, or know what part of the Bi- 
 ble is prose and what is poetry. Do you say that 
 belongs to parents ? Say it to the parents, then. 
 Sermons are preached to fathers and mothers, in 
 which they are admonished to bring up their chil- 
 dren in the nurture and admonition of the Lord ; 
 but from which a young mother could not gather 
 a single hint to guide her in managing her baby. 
 It is the eager desire of parents to do that yery 
 thing, and they would gladly welcome instruction ; 
 but to be good for anything, it must be definite. 
 It must be like, in kind, to certain papers on that 
 topic by the Rev. John Todd, printed in the Con- 
 gregationalist. You may not agree with every- 
 thing he says, but the man who sets one thinking 
 and observing for one's self, is more helpful than 
 he who never excites thought enough for agree- 
 ment or disagreement. 
 
 I spoke of " Essays and Reviews." They are a 
 foreign growth, but they scatter seed, and there is 
 plenty of ground ready to receive it. It will surely 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 137 
 
 spring up, and bear fruit, unless supplanted by a 
 better crop. " Spiritualism " sprang from our own 
 soil, and gi-ew up like Jonah's gourd. For a time, 
 scarcely a community existed in which some un- 
 easy table could not be found. I have heard a 
 doctor of divinity, in preaching against it, use 
 arguments which seemed to satisfy himself, and 
 which perhaps might satisfy any one who knew 
 nothing about the matter, but which a man, who 
 had given a particle of honest attention to real oc- 
 currences, might sweep away with one pen-stroke. 
 The absurdity of the refutation was only equalled 
 by the absurdity of the thing refuted. I do not 
 say the great mass of sermons, but a great mass 
 of sermons, are like the bodies of which we some- 
 times read, which, exhumed after having been a 
 long time dead, preserve the form and fulness of 
 hfe, but, brought out into the light of day and 
 touched by vital air, crumble at once into ashes 
 and nothingness. It is better not to touch these 
 things than to touch them weakly : but men need 
 to be clad in the whole armor of God. 
 
 Besides the quality of preaching, there is surely 
 an abundant room for improvement in the man- 
 ner. The number of good readers, good elocu- 
 tionists, good orators, among ministers, is surpris- 
 ingly small. Not only are the 3"oung men, fresh 
 from theological schools, in a crude state, but the 
 strong probability is, that they will never ripen. 
 They may grow in grace and in the knowledge of 
 
138 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Their views 
 may broaden, their sympathies deepen. Their 
 certainties may waver into hypotheses, and their 
 doubts change into behef. They may grow char- 
 itable, tolerant, catholic, genial. And they may 
 not ; for there are those who, if they deepen at all, 
 deepen only in the one rut wherein they started, — 
 men whose weaknesses and errors time petrifies 
 instead of removing. But, often, while the man 
 and the minister goes on from strength to strength, 
 the orator preserves a masterly inactivity. He 
 does not purpose to do otherwise. Some, as I have 
 intimated, frown down any attempt to adorn and 
 beautify their oratory. They call it extolling the 
 little at the expense of the great. It is toying, 
 trifling, frivolity. It is frittering away on shadows 
 what should be spent on substance. So they scorn 
 ''rhetoric." Grace of style, smoothness of diction, 
 correctness of pronunciation, beauty of modulation, 
 sweetness of voice, ease of manner, appropriate- 
 ness of gesture, — what are these where souls are 
 to be saved ? It is Unitarianism. It is Lyceum- 
 izing the Church. Your Orthodox minister is not 
 going to be caught, nor to catch you, by such 
 chaff. He proclaims from his pulpit that he does 
 not expect or endeavor to charm you by elo- 
 quence. He does not aim to be "popular." He 
 does not seek to please you by figures of speech 
 and poetical periods and smooth doctrine. Let 
 others cater to your tastes : he gives you the 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 139 
 
 word of God. If you do not like his preaching, 
 it is because your natural heart revolts against the 
 unadulterated Gospel ; it is because you want to 
 be amused and entertained, rather than warned 
 and instructed. 
 
 But, while righteousness, temperance, and judg- 
 ment to come are not to be abandoned on account 
 of any reluctance to accept them, or any prefer- 
 ence for something else, there are other things 
 which ought not to be neglected. These things 
 ought ye to have done, and not to have left the 
 others undone. Anything that attracts men ought 
 not to be considered unworthy of the minister's 
 notice. If certain qualities will induce men to 
 listen to the tnith, he ought to cultivate such qual- 
 ities, if by any means he may. save some. He 
 should be content with nothing lower than the 
 highest. If men, for the sake of gaining the 
 applause of their fellows, will labor to make them- 
 selves attractive, shall not he, so much the more, 
 for the sake of gaining souls ? Let it be remem- 
 bered, that to be popular is not to be shallow, that 
 to be interesting is not to be weak, that to be 
 nice is not to be finical, that rhetoric is not incom- 
 patible with religion. If a man has a message 
 from God, let him not fear to clothe it in language 
 too beautiful, or to present it in a manner too win- 
 ning. Let him not disguise it, and make it repul- 
 sive. The Gospel is sometimes presented so un- 
 couthly or so indifferently or so unfeelingly that 
 
140 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 men are repelled rather than drawn ; and the 
 minister who repels them will talk of the opposi- 
 tion of the natural heart, and sincerely believe that 
 it is his plainness of speech, his fearless utterance 
 of the truth, or fearless rebuke of sin, that is dis- 
 tasteful. It is well for a minister to be so simple 
 that- the most ignorant can understand him, so 
 well educated that the most learned can respect 
 him, so refined that the most fastidious need not 
 be offended. It is not required that he shall know 
 more about everything than any one else ; but he 
 ought either to be great in his own line, or respect- 
 able in all. If a geologist knows more about 
 geology than any other man living, he will have 
 the respect of the community, even if he is not 
 well versed in literature ; but if he is only a me- 
 diocre geologist, he needs to have a good deal of 
 other knowledge to keep him afloat. Just so with 
 ministers. Very few are so great in their special 
 department that they can aflPord to be small in 
 others. Very few wield a logic so powerful that 
 rhetoric can give no further strength. Genius 
 itself is improved by culture, but ordinary endow- 
 ments are nothing without it. Everything that 
 might increase influence should receive close atten- 
 tion, not to the neglect, but to the greater effect- 
 iveness, of w^eightier matters. 
 
 Many a sermon, which evidently might do good, 
 is spoiled by being badly delivered. Words are 
 mumbled. Sentences are hurried through. Em- 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 141 
 
 pliasis is set at defiance. Our finest hymns are 
 ruthlessly murdered. Some hymns are bad enough 
 of themselves, but good and bad are ground in the 
 same mill, and come out alike, sheer doggerel. 
 We shall not soon forget the impression produced 
 by such a reading of the line 
 
 " Faith, set upon a world to come." 
 
 Instead of making a slight pause after " Faith," as 
 the sense required, and bringing out the true idea 
 of Faith, with steadfast eye fixed upon a future 
 world, the minister rather scanned the verse, bring- 
 ing the pause after " upon " and the emphasis 
 upon it, thus : 
 
 " Faith set upon — a world to come/' 
 
 as if faith were a hare set upon by a pack of 
 hounds. It really needed reflection to select the 
 real meaning from the possible ones into which 
 the barbarous accents of this excellent man had 
 translated it. 
 
 It is rather worse to disfigure hymns in this 
 way than sermons. The sermon is a man's own, 
 and his own reputation alone suffers ; but the au- 
 thor of the unfortunate hymn is dead, or absent, 
 and cannot help himself. On the other hand, 
 however, the sermon is to instruct, admonish, and 
 enlighten the people ; and if, by carelessness or 
 wilfulness, it is badly written or badly spoken, it is 
 not the man's reputation alone that suffers, but the 
 welfare of the people, which is of infinitely more 
 
142 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 importance. The most excellent way is for a man 
 to learn to read before he begins to preach, — then 
 he can read anything. If, unfortunately, he has 
 already begun to preach without knowing how to 
 read, " it is never too late to mend." 
 
 A great many sermons are preached in a lifeless, 
 professional tone, as if the minister were preach- 
 ing because it is his business, not because he has 
 something to say. He receives so much money, 
 and gives so much sermon in return. For value 
 received he promises to pay, and he is paying, — 
 like the honest man he is. He does not love you, 
 his hearer, but he does not hate you ; in fact, he 
 is not thinking about you at all. He is not think- 
 ing about anything in particular. He has nothing 
 in view. He has written a sermon, and is there to 
 preach it ; the rest is none of his business. If you 
 listen to it, or like it, or do not, it is all one to him. 
 Ministers may not often feel so ; but it often looks 
 as if they did. There is no mark by which you 
 shall judge that they heartily believe what they 
 are saying, or heartily wish you to believe it, or 
 think it to be of paramount importance that you 
 should believe it, or that their hearts are in the 
 thing at all. If this is not a fault, it is a great 
 misfortune. A man must be himself, but he may 
 make improvements. He cannot change, but he 
 can work up his raw material. Some naturally 
 have more action and animation than others ; but 
 if ministers asked women to marry them with no 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. M.3 
 
 more apparent earnestness than many of them 
 preach the Gospel, priestly celibacy would not be 
 a peculiarity of the Romish Church. Action need 
 not be violent or vulgar, and quietude need not 
 become monotonous and tiresome. 
 
 Some ministers are so unfortunate as to have 
 contracted an indignant, vituperative way of 
 preaching. They launch the denunciations of 
 the Gospel at our heads with an air that seems to 
 say, '' Good enough for you ! " They look upon 
 gentle words, winning persuasions, encouragement, 
 and consolation askant, as " smooth doctrine." 
 Objurgation is their forte. Fire and brimstone are 
 more available with them than the milk and honey 
 of the promised land. It is a thousand pities. 
 Nothing hardens people like continued fault-find- 
 ing. If their minister always rebukes them for sin 
 as if he were angry with them, they will be flinty 
 to his touch ; but if they see his heart melting with 
 compassion and sorrow and tenderness for them, 
 even while he abhors their sin, there is not one 
 in twenty that can withstand it. 
 
 I wish, too, our clergymen would look a little 
 more carefully to their language and pronuncia- 
 tion. In these things they should be an ensample 
 to their flock. " If gold ruste, what shuld iren 
 do ? " Yet they often help to vitiate rather than 
 preserve or purify the good old well of English 
 undefiled. How often is " taught him " trans- 
 formed and deformed into " taught 'im." " And 
 
144 
 
 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 Invariable, Treasure, 
 
 Hope, 
 
 Therefore, 
 
 Occasionally, Measure, 
 
 Whole, 
 
 Often, 
 
 Superintend, Vital, 
 
 Coat, 
 
 Rise, (noun,) 
 
 Innumerable, Testimony, 
 
 Soon, 
 
 Humor, 
 
 Extraordinary, Consumed, 
 
 Worldly, 
 
 View, — 
 
 words which I have far 
 
 oftener 
 
 heard mispro- 
 
 yet" does duty as " an' jit." " Made use of" 
 would hardly be recognized if spelt as it is sound- 
 ed, — " may juice of." " Blessed union " is flat- 
 tened out into " blessy junion." How many min- 
 isters are there who, at first sight, will correctly 
 pronounce 
 
 Invariable, 
 
 Occasionall;^ 
 
 Superintend 
 
 Innumerabl( 
 
 Extraordina 
 
 words whi 
 
 nounced than pronounced in the pulpit. How 
 can we go right, if our leaders do not lead in the 
 right way ? 
 
 Was an Orthodox minister ever known to use the 
 word " wife " in the pulpit ? From the manner in 
 which he steers around it, one might suppose that 
 its utterance was under a ban. Your " consort," 
 " companion," the " partner of your joys," or 
 " sorrows," or " bosom," is recognized, but nobody 
 ever prays for your " wife." Why is it not just 
 as well to say that Mr. A. will preach in the after- 
 noon, as in the " after part of the day " ? Why 
 not say that the man whose life you are sketching 
 was married at such an age, rather than that he 
 " entered into the married relation " ? Why shall 
 we not hear in the pulpit our own tongue in which 
 we were born ? If dignity cannot stand Anglo- 
 Saxon, so much the worse for dignity. Good, 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 145 
 
 simple, common, honest, racy, idiomatic words and 
 phrases are not only the strongest, but often the 
 most eloquent. The cumbrous euphuisms of a 
 pulpit patois are neither pleasant to the taste, nor 
 good for food. Doubtless many sermons which 
 seem dry would be found to be really succulent 
 if they could only be translated (though others, 
 indeed, might suffer from such a process) ; but they 
 are given in a language and in tones which no one 
 ever hears at his table, or in his parlor, or in a rail- 
 way car ; and it Is difficult to believe that a person 
 who has anything to say would talk In such a fash- 
 ion. Paul was as argumentative, as abstract, as 
 learned, as theological, as any one need be, but his 
 words were concrete and cleaving. I do not al- 
 ways understand him, but I feel confident that he 
 understood himself. The line of his arguments 
 sometimes seems to run zigzag, but you can see 
 that he is in deadly earnest. He was so interested 
 that he became interesting. Sympathy makes up 
 for sense. Through all these eighteen hundred 
 years his dead lips speak with a fire and fervor, 
 his silent voice rings out with a clearness and 
 power, that many a living voice and living lips 
 do not attain. 
 
 It is a mistake to suppose that sermons on every- 
 day life in e very-day language require less study 
 and thought than others. They require more. 
 When you come down to matters which every one 
 touches at some point, every one is plaintiff, de- 
 7 J 
 
146 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 fendant, advocate, and judge. A clergyman can 
 write the learned lore of the schoolmen, and we 
 are so little interested and know so little what he 
 is aiming at, that he has things pretty much his 
 own way. A man may build iis a pantheon or a 
 pagoda, and we cannot swear that it is not the one 
 nor the other. But if he undertakes to build us a 
 house to live in, we shall know whether he suc- 
 ceeds, and he must hit the nail on the head, 
 or he will bruise his hands, besides driving the 
 nail awry. Nor does the use of common lan- 
 guage mean the use of vulgar language. Collo- 
 quialisms sometimes will illustrate truth, but they 
 should be used only in a state of fusion. To go 
 out of one's way to use them, is to abuse them. 
 Vulgarity is always inadmissible. No fancied 
 benefit can atone for the employment of such 
 words and phrases as " scamp," " turn up your 
 nose," etc., which I have heard used in Orthodox 
 pulpits. A minister should be the last to coun- 
 tenance terms which are unbecoming in a gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 Do these things seem trivial ? But God, in or- 
 daining his priesthood, would not be ministered 
 unto by a man who had a flat nose. How much 
 less shall one serve in his sanctuary with unclean 
 hps ! 
 
 I am afraid that I may seem to be making out 
 the people to be a kind of injured innocent, and 
 the pastor an ogre preying upon it. Not so. The 
 
A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 147 
 
 people have faults and to spare. With the wisest 
 manipulation, there will doubtless always be some 
 fault. But a people is not all fault. That is 
 the point I wish to bring into prominence. If I 
 have made it too prominent, it will only balance 
 undue depression, and the average altitude will 
 not be far wrong. 
 
 It may be said, also, Why seek to bring people 
 to church, if church services are so deficient ? 
 Why? Because half a loaf is better than no 
 bread. Because God commands us not to forsake 
 the assembling; of ourselves tocrether. Because 
 experience shows that a community without a 
 church is very likely to become a community 
 without God. Because you always expect a 
 church-going people to be more respectable, vir- 
 tuous, and benevolent than one that is not, and 
 you are seldom disappointed. But w^hen you look 
 at the other side, so appalling is the extent of 
 practical heathendom, so shallow is the depth 
 of practical Christianity, that it almost seems as 
 if everything still remains to be done. We are 
 as good as we are, because our ministers are so 
 good ; we are as bad as we are, because they 
 are no better. Like people, like priest. A people 
 must be as low as its lowest; it can be no higher 
 than its hio;hest. 
 
 I have not drawn any fanciful picture of paro- 
 chial bliss. It is from ministers themselves that 1 
 have learned what ministers may be. It is in the 
 
148 A VIEW FROM THE PEWS. 
 
 light of the pulpit that pulpit shadows deepen. If 
 I had not known the influence which ministers 
 may exert over people, if I had not known the 
 love and respect which people may feel towards 
 ministers, I should not have dreamed what that 
 influence and that deference may be. I have 
 mentioned no defect which has not fallen under 
 my own observation. I have painted no grace 
 which is not from the life. If the standard is set 
 too high, it is not my hand that bore it. I have 
 but pointed to its folds, floating far up in the clear, 
 pure air, not without a hope that the sight may do 
 somewhat towards inspiring the fervent battle-cry, 
 " Forward ! All forward ! " 
 
VL 
 
 PRAYER-MEETINGS. 
 
 HEN they that feared the Lord spake 
 often one to another, and the Lord 
 hearkened and heard it." But if the 
 Lord hearkens to everything that is 
 said at our prayer-meetings, and if, beneath the 
 words, he discovers the underlying motive and 
 feelincr, I sometimes fear that his book of remem- 
 brance will receive its largest accession of names 
 from other quarters. 
 
 Prayer-meetings, — meetings for prayer, — yet 
 how little real praying, — for that matter, how 
 little praying of any kind. By way of illustration, 
 let me mention one instance. At the instigation 
 of certain missionaries, a prayer-meeting was to be 
 held a short time ago, for several nights in suc- 
 cession, simultaneously throughout Christendom. 
 At one of these meetings, which lasted three 
 hours, there were two, possibly three prayers ; 
 not more. The rest of the time was consumed 
 
150 PR A YER-MEE TINGS 
 
 in talking. It was said that no one was to oc- 
 cupy more than ten minutes. When a man has 
 but ten minutes to' talk, it is obvious he ought to 
 talk fast and concisely, and not waste time in apol- 
 ogies, — if he has anything to say; if he has not, 
 he ought not to speak at all. The first speaker at 
 this meeting was at least five minutes in really 
 beginning, and then he became so entangled 
 in his metaphors and similes, that he did not 
 clear himself for half an hour. In a parlor, this 
 would have been a gross impertinence. What 
 was it in a chapel ? No matter how well he might 
 have talked, no matter if he had spoken with the 
 tongues of men and of angels, every well-bred per- 
 son must have felt tliat he was thrustino; himself 
 in where lie did not belong, that he was occupying 
 time which was due to other people. The second 
 man, who had evidently been " reading up " for the 
 occasion, brought out, for another half-hour, the 
 biography of two good men, whose memoirs are 
 in every one's hands, and if they were not, there 
 was no appropriateness in supplying the deficiency 
 on such an occasion. A third occupied himself 
 in mourning over the low state of piety in the 
 Church. And so it went on for three hours, — a 
 prayer-meeting for the conversion of the heathen, 
 and not one tenth of the time devoted to praying, 
 and the heathen left out altogether. Many Chris- 
 tian hearts may have been edified, but it certainly 
 seems to me that the world can be converted in a 
 far more economical way than that. 
 
PRA YER-MEETINGS. 151 
 
 This was, perhaps, an extreme case, but is it 
 exceptional to have a prayer-meeting made the 
 vehicle of crude reflection, shallow emotion, su- 
 perficial experience, monotonous exhortations, vain 
 babbhngs, — much of self, little of God, — much 
 of vain repetition, little of soul- wrestling, — too 
 much of the Pharisee in the temple, too little of 
 Jacob at Penuel ? 
 
 Would it not be well if church-members, in- 
 stead of lamenting that the ways of Zion mourn, 
 and few come to her solemn feasts, would seriously- 
 set themselves to inquiring whether the feasts 
 are worth coming to. If, when we invite people 
 to a feast of fat things full of marrow, of wines on 
 the lees well refined, we furnish forth our tables 
 with dry bones and brackish water, ought we to 
 complain if they are shy of accepting our hospi- 
 tality ? Were a man ever so fond of bread, he 
 would hardly relish a meal of stones ; how much 
 less when his appetite has become so vitiated that 
 he has lost his desire for the bread of life, and 
 needs to be lured by all innocent devices ! 
 
 It is not the want of cultivation and education 
 that makes the empty benches at our prayer- 
 meetings. True, there are solecisms, rhetorical 
 redundancies, awkwardness of posture, and un- 
 couthness of gesture, which are not sweet to 
 eye or ear ; nor am I of the number who believe 
 it sacrilege to take exception to anything that 
 occurs in religious meetings. The ark was holy 
 
152 PRAYER-MEETINGS 
 
 unto the Lord, so that Uzzah, putting forth a 
 presumptuous hand to it, was smitten for his error 
 and died ; but the ark went up from Kirjath-jearim 
 in an ox-cart. 
 
 So long as men are influenced by extraneous 
 things, we ought to make extraneous things ap- 
 propriate. Our best is not too good for the Lord's 
 service. He does not want the poor and the lame 
 and the sick for an offering, but the firstlings of 
 the flock, without spot or blemish. The old 
 woman's principle was correct, though we may 
 perhaps demur at her application of it, when she 
 poured the contents of her molasses jug into hei 
 terrified pastor's tea-cup, with the affectionate dec- 
 laration, " can't be too sweet for the minister ! " It 
 is absurd to suppose that, because a man is religious, 
 he need not be intelligent, — that piety is to be a 
 shield for ignorance, — that any kind of grammar 
 will do for a prayer. Of course it is better to 
 pray blunderingly than not to pray at all ; but 
 better than either is it to pray without blunders. 
 This world's language, in its most cultivated state, 
 is not too good for the courts of heaven. 
 
 I make these remarks, first, because there are 
 men who seem rather to glory in their ignorance, 
 who speak of their want of " book-learning " as 
 a praiseworthy thing, who boast that they have 
 none of the graces of oratory, and who go on 
 hammering out their disconnected sentences with a 
 self-complacence at once ridiculous and disgusting. 
 
PRAYER-MEETINGS. 153 
 
 Of all forms of pride, this is the most intolerable. 
 Pride of birth, pride of wealth, pride of beauty, 
 have some excuse in the intrinsic value of the 
 thing possessed ; but pride of ignorance and stu- 
 pidity and vulgarity lias no shadow of palliation. 
 An icrnorant man unconscious of his io-norance is 
 a pitiable object. An ignorant man conscious of 
 his ignorance, striving every day to remove it, and 
 modest in the consciousness, commands not only 
 sympathy, but respect. An ignorant man, glory- 
 incr in his imiorance, is a nuisance that ouo;ht to 
 be abated. We admire sense and energy and 
 worth that have struggled up to prominence and 
 influence, though the garment be coarse and the 
 dialect harsh ; but it is not the coarseness and 
 harshness that -we. respect, but the manhood that 
 we discern in spite of them. Much as we value 
 the man with them, we should value him still 
 more without them. The energy that quarried 
 the marble was wonderful ; if it could have pol- 
 ished it too, it would have been still more won- 
 derful ; but it would be ineffable stupidity for a 
 rickety beer-cask to waddle up beside the marble 
 shaft, and claim fellowship on the score of a 
 common ugliness. A diamond in the rough is a 
 treasure for a king's ransom ; but the rough 
 without the diamond is mere rubbish ; and even 
 the diamond must be cut into brilliancy before it 
 is worthy to be set in the king's diadem. 
 
 Above all things, let us not bring our ignorance 
 7* 
 
154 PRA YER-MEETINGS. 
 
 as a sacrifice unto the Lord, well pleasing. No 
 thought can be too beautiful, no language too 
 chaste, for his service. When we speak directly 
 to him, his glory often overshadows us so that we 
 can only bow our heads in reverence, and humbly 
 say, " Lord be merciful to me a sinner " ; and 
 even when we look away from him, and would 
 fain speak of his excellences, his grandeur, and 
 might, and majesty, his loving-kindness and ten- 
 der mercj^ beam upon us with such refulgence 
 that we can only exclaim, " The Lord, he is the 
 God ; the Lord, he is the God." But when 
 we are moved to speech, earth and sea and sky 
 can furnish nothing too rare and precious to 
 adorn it. 
 
 The ark went up in an ox-cart ; but it was no 
 battered, disjointed, rattling vehicle. It was a 
 " new cart." Christ rode Into Jerusalem on an 
 ass, but it was a fresh young animal, whereon 
 never man sat. Let us take to God the strongest 
 and the fairest and the best, and continually strive 
 to make the best better. 
 
 I have said thus much, secondly, because so 
 many draw a line around all religious services, 
 and consider everything within it as without the 
 pale of legitimate criticism ; but when one speaks 
 of a wicked man digging a ditch, which shall 
 fall on his own head, can one help reflecting 
 what a remarkable ditch it must be, even if it 
 was found in a prayer ? When a man uses the 
 
PRA YER-MEETINGS. 155 
 
 same verb fifteen times in three minutes, can one 
 help wishing he would leave it out twelve or thir- 
 teen times ? But if you should say so, you have, 
 doubtless, many excellent friends, who would 
 look upon you with a kind of holy horror, as a 
 modified species of heathen. There are men 
 who seem to think it irreverent to address the 
 Deity in natural tones, and pitch their voices in 
 prayer on a most unearthly key. There are 
 others who seem to lose their breath in pronoun- 
 cino; the name of the Lord : but these thino;s must 
 never be noticed. Everything that happens '* in 
 meetino; " must be taken without wincino^. This 
 seems to me unwise and uncandid, — uncandid, 
 because little absurdities do occur ; why should 
 we not frankly admit it ? Is not our religion 
 strong enough to bear it ? Unwise, because it helps 
 men cherish little foibles, which hinder their use- 
 fulness, which they ought to get rid of, and which 
 a very little kindness in others, and pains on their 
 own part, would enable them to remove. We 
 have the treasure in earthen vessels, and earthen 
 vessels are liable to mould in the damp, and to 
 crack in the frost, and to have bits nicked out 
 from unexplained causes. If we refuse to have 
 them examined and cared for because they contain 
 a sacred treasure, we may find, to our sorrow, that 
 a part of the treasure has escaped through a treach- 
 erous hole in the bottom of the jar. 
 
 Suppose David had found the ark in a dilapi- 
 
156 PRA YER-MEETINGS. 
 
 dated old cart, and had called out his thirty thou- 
 sand chosen men with harps and psalteries and 
 timhrels and cornets and cymbals, to give it a tri- 
 umphal entry into the city ; would there not, very 
 likely, have been men here and there who would 
 have discovered and announced that the paint was 
 worn dingy, that the shafts were broken, that the 
 tire was springing from the wheel, and the linch- 
 pin was coming out? And if David had tried to 
 silence them by saying, " Hold ye your peace ! 
 it is the ark of the Lord," would they not have 
 justly replied : " Not so. It is not the ark of the 
 Lord. It is nothing but an old cart ; but because 
 it does carry the ark of the Lord, it should be the 
 very best that the land can furnish. Go to, let us 
 cast aside the miserable thing, and build a better, 
 even a worthier." 
 
 To ridicule the honest efforts of shrinking mod- 
 esty requires 9 weak head and a bad heart. He 
 who can feel, not to say express, a sentiment ap- 
 proaching to mockery at the mistakes whicli sen- 
 sitiveness and ao;itation will often make, has a 
 coarse-fibred as well as a depraved mind. The 
 finest natures often make the worst figures in 
 public. Real delicacy feels a sympathy with the 
 embarrassment so strong, and a respect for the 
 courage so profound, as to preclude every other 
 emotion ; but these feelings are not called out 
 by the objectionable habits into which men fall 
 through carelessness or ignorance. 
 
PRAYER-MEETINGS. 157 
 
 Still, as I was about to saj, these things are only 
 circumstances ; they are not essences. They do 
 in no wise account for the leanness that often pre- 
 sides at our spiritual feasts. The bodily presence 
 may be weak, and the speech contemptible ; but if 
 the fire of Divine Love be kindled in the heart, 
 there will flash through all disguises an eloquence 
 which is not of the earth, earthy ; which is of the 
 Lord from heaven. The faltering words of a 
 hesitating soul trembling between fear of man and 
 love of God have often cloven the armor of a self- 
 ish, worldly nature, piercing even to the dividing 
 asunder of soul and spirit. The angel of the Lord 
 lays the live coal alike upon the lips of learned 
 and unlearned, and speeds them on heavenly 
 errands. 
 
 There are in prayer-meetings more serious 
 defects than these, — defects which admit of no 
 palliation, — defects which every one ought to 
 deprecate, condemn, and, as far as possible, root 
 out. I mean the mockery of holy things ; the 
 cant which, under the name of piety, wearies the 
 Lord with its words ; the Pharisaism which would 
 pass for Christianity ; the Avholesale slander which 
 covers itself with the mantle of religious zeal ; the 
 censoriousness which assumes the crarb of faithful- 
 ness ; the heartlessness which handles the denun- 
 ciations of God as a child handles its playthings. 
 Such displays are not common. Shame that they 
 should ever occur ! Shame that the way to 
 
158 PRA YER-MEETINGS. 
 
 heaven should ever be turned into a way to 
 death ! 
 
 Not so bad as this, yet radically wrong, both as 
 a fact and as a sign, are the paucity of thought 
 and the shallowness of feeling so commonly ex- 
 hibited at prayer-meetings. Our exhortations 
 and prayers are too often the result of an outward 
 necessity, not of an inward prompting. We 
 speak, not because our hearts burn within us, — 
 not because we feel that, if we should hold our 
 peace, the very stones would cry out, — but be- 
 cause the meeting must be kept up. Instead of 
 definiteness, conciseness, and pith, — " infinite 
 riches in a little room," — we have abstractions 
 and dilutions and doublings and painful egotisms. 
 It is routine and duty and treadmill. This must 
 be, just so long as our lives furnish nothing higher. 
 If we put God out of our thoughts on Monday 
 and Tuesday, we cannot have any new thought of 
 God wherewith to strengthen our brother's soul 
 on Tuesday evening. No harvest can spring up 
 where no seed is sown. You cannot be warm and 
 filled because you are bidden to be. You cannot 
 feel interested simply because you ought to feel 
 so. You cannot have something to say because 
 you are called upon to say something. A thought 
 must be wrought out in your soul before it can 
 pass through your lips. We can gather ourselves 
 together and multiply words, but unless we are 
 charged with love to God and love to man, heart 
 
PRAYER-MEETINGS. 159 
 
 meets heart to little purpose ; brain flashes no light 
 on brain. 
 
 It is not that worshippers are to be startled 
 into attention and interest bv news, novelty, ec- 
 centricities, conceits, and far-fetched combinations, 
 nor that prayer-meetings are to be turned into 
 exchanges, where people are to meet in order to 
 tell or to hear some new thing. It is the grand old 
 truths that the world wants perversely to forget, 
 and of which it needs to be forever reminded, 
 but in love, not hate or scorn or pride. It is the 
 same old carol words chanted by Moses when time 
 was young, — harped for all ages by Israel's shep- 
 herd-king, — swelling in fuller strains as the heav- 
 enly host gathered over the hills of Judaea, — that 
 man needs to have forever sung to him in new 
 notes and chords and concords, that shall witch 
 back his flagging interest, and charm away his 
 indifference " ere he is aware." 
 
 What we want is more of the spirit of Christ 
 in our hearts. Our chapels can never become the 
 gate of heaven till there is more of heaven in our- 
 selves. " The kingdom of God is within you." 
 The life of the prayer-meeting depends on the life 
 of the shop, the office, the farm, the dairy, the 
 kitchen, the closet. 
 
 This meagreness of life is often painfully indi- 
 cated by the avidity with which unusual incidents 
 are seized and spun out and wrought into moral 
 reflections and practical applications. An immense 
 
160 PR A YER-MEE TINGS. 
 
 quantity of nondescript rhetoric is evolved in the 
 attempt to " improve " a " providence." Un- 
 doubtedly there is such a thing as a providence, 
 and there is such a thing as improving it ; but 
 providences are always happening, and we are 
 not always improving them when we think we 
 are. 
 
 Providences (as the word is colloquially used) 
 are always happening. To the man whose eyes the 
 Lord hath opened, no day passes without bringing 
 fresh proof of God's love or wisdom or power ; but 
 many of us walk with blind eyes and deaf ears 
 to the beauty that breathes and the music that 
 rings all along our daily paths. Only when w^e 
 receive a great shock, when something breaks in 
 upon the selfish, stolid monotone of our lives and 
 forces our notice, are we startled into wonder, 
 admiration, and awe, and exclaim, " Surely the 
 Lord is in this place, and I knevv^ it not." Then, 
 wath honest purpose, with, no doubt, sincere de- 
 sire to learn and to teach the lesson which it bears, 
 we begin to expound and warn and infer and ad- 
 monish, till the theme is " done to death." Waked 
 suddenly from our slothful inertia, we lay about 
 us right and left with eager but awkward strokes. 
 By as much as we have been remiss before, by so 
 much we now overdo. This is, indeed, better 
 than the inertia. Agitation, be it ever so violent 
 and irregular, is better than stagnation. But 
 better than either is the quiet, healthful flow of 
 
PRA YER-MEETINGS. 161 
 
 the life-giving river rolling through green meadows 
 and purple vineyards to the peaceful sea. Our 
 hves should be more equable. If our religion 
 permeated all the root-fibres and branch-tendrils 
 of our souls, it would bud and blossom in perpet- 
 ual spring ; whereas it too often lies long dormant, 
 and then shoots up into spasmodic and short-lived 
 growth. If God were to us an own familiar friend 
 in whom we trusted ; if we could learn to look 
 with serious, yet not sad eyes, upon the eternal 
 side of all living, and entwine the practical, the 
 present, the homely, and the humble with the 
 grand, the unseen and eternal ; if we could look 
 upon the shop, the field, the kitchen, the parlor, 
 not simply as the servants of the body, but as the 
 ministers of the soul, — we should not need to 
 fasten upon any one incident to furnish the staple 
 for our prayer-meetings ; we should be embar- 
 rassed only by the multitude which from all sides 
 would call upon our souls to praise the name of 
 the Lord. We should be continually improving 
 providences, — speaking often one to another of 
 the wonderful works of God. 
 
 On a certain Sabbath morning, several years 
 ago, an earthquake set one of our New England 
 cities a-trembling for a few minutes, and then went 
 on its way ; but throughout the day, and I know 
 not how lono; after, the relio-ious services were 
 saturated with earthquake. It was served up in 
 the pulpit and the Sabbath school and the prayer- 
 
162 PRA YER-MEETINGS. 
 
 meeting, by clergy and laity, till one could not 
 help feeling that the good people handled the poor 
 earthquake a great deal more severely than the 
 earthquake handled them. Do not misunderstand 
 me. Do not suppose that I object to drawing 
 moral lessons from physical or other occurrences. 
 Object ? It is the very thing which I think we 
 ought to do, — only we ought to do a great deal 
 more of it — and a great deal less ; more in some 
 directions, less, relatively, in others ; more on or- 
 dinary, less, relatively, on extraordinary occasions. 
 From every such occurrence it is meet, right, and 
 our bounden duty, to draw all the good it has to 
 give ; but having pumped it dry, what is the use 
 of jerking the handle up and down, especially 
 when thousands of living springs are welling 
 through the verdure under our feet, and all around 
 us ? 
 
 It is, indeed, but natural that rare events should 
 excite more attention than common ones. Al- 
 though an earthquake no more exhibits and illus- 
 trates God's power and presence than the daily 
 returning sun, yet it will, from its very infre- 
 quence, produce a deeper and more solemn im- 
 pression of his power. This is all right. It is not 
 that one event goes too deep, but that the many 
 do not go deep enough. The one impression need 
 not be diminished, but the other needs to be in- 
 creased. We shall never attain the measure of 
 the stature of the fulness of Christ till we get into 
 
PRA YER-MEETINGS. 163 
 
 equilibrium, till we better understand the relations 
 of things. We need to remember that God num- 
 bers the hairs of our heads, and watches the young 
 sparrows as they %, and calls the stars by name, 
 and showers new mercies every morning, and fresh 
 blessings every evening. If we will but assign to 
 these e very-day events their true place In the 
 Divine economy, we shall not exhaust ourselves 
 and others with convulsive efforts to wrench from 
 some startling and unusual event the lesson which 
 every sunrise would gladly teach. He who can 
 express the strength-giving juice from all fruits, 
 need not cling to the dry rind of any. If we 
 would see God's providence, his vrise and careful 
 and benevolent foresight, as displayed wherever we 
 choose to look, we should not harp upon any sin- 
 gle exhibition of It. But we forget the undulations 
 which make the landscape so rich, so varied, and 
 so beautiful, and notice only the mountains that 
 lift their hoar heads to the clouds. Thereby we 
 lose much ; for though the mountains are grand, 
 and speak grand words, — of passion soothed into 
 repose, and strength ministering to humanity, and 
 vigor waiting upon beauty, — yet the mountains 
 are few and far, accessible only to Individuals, 
 and require toilsome journeylngs and waitings 
 and watchings ; while the hills swell everywhere, 
 clothed with greenness and crowned with flowers. 
 The thunder-cloud sweeps over the sky, and flings 
 its impetuous abundance to the earth, that drinks 
 
1 64 PRA YER'MEETINGS. 
 
 it In with tliirstj lips ; but the life that wakes in 
 maple-buds, and pierces the brown soil in tender 
 herbage, and breathes in the first sweet scents of 
 snowdrop and hyacinth and arbutus, is the child 
 of gentle spring showers and silent summer dews. 
 
 We have all heard of- the man who was grate- 
 fully narrating the mercy of God in preserving 
 him unhurt when his horse stumbled and threw 
 him upon the rocks. " But I," said his friend, 
 " have still greater reason to be thankful ; for my 
 horse did not stumble at all." 
 
 This is the key to the whole matter. This is 
 the way to make life fruitful of gratitude. Thus 
 not only will deep call unto deep, but we shall see 
 the loving-kindness of the Lord in the day-time, 
 and in the nio;ht his sono; shall be with us. When 
 we go to the house of God, it will be with the 
 multitude, with the voice of joy and praise. Seven 
 men shall no longer, in leanness of soul, lay hold 
 of one theme ; but every man shall see the Lord 
 under his own vine and fio;-tree, and his mouth 
 shall be filled with lauo^hter and his tongue with 
 singing, till out of the abundance of his heart he 
 cannot choose but speak. 
 
 The quality of our moral reflections is often 
 defective, as well as the quantity. When death 
 wrenches a vigorous young soul from its palpitat- 
 ing body ; or when a gray head lies down peace- 
 fully in the grave ; or when the little children go 
 up to Jesus from mothers' arms that would fain 
 
PR A YER-MEE TINGS. 1 65 
 
 press tliem forever to mothers' hearts, God speaks. 
 He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. But what 
 is the messao^e ? A good deacon rises in the 
 prayer-meeting and reminds the young people of 
 the uncertainty of life, — warns them that youth 
 may be cut down as well as age, — and exhorts 
 them to be prepared. All true and right, but not 
 to the point ; because the young people have heard 
 their mothers say that their friend's death was the 
 result of a cold caught by carelessly sitting on the 
 door-step with bare shoulders, through a damp 
 summer evening, and they resolve — that it is an 
 imprudent and dangerous indulgence, and that 
 they will avoid it. It admonishes them less of the 
 uncertainty of life, than of the danger of damp 
 evenings. It was a mysterious Providence that 
 smote down the strong man, blotting out his sun 
 from heaven at its zenith, and shrouding his 
 hearth-stone in darkness ; but not so very mys- 
 terious to the strong men who stand around his 
 bier and remember that warm August day, four 
 weeks ago, when he went home tired, heated, and 
 hungry, ate an inordinate quantity of heavy food 
 and unripe fruit, and drank large draughts of cold 
 water, thereby throwing upon his system a bur- 
 den which, in its exhausted state, it could not 
 bear; and they resolve — to be temperate. The 
 lesson to them is less of the uncertainty of life 
 than of the necessity of prudence and moderation. 
 ^yhen the little baby lies in its tiny coffin with 
 
1 66 PR^^ YER-MEETINGS. 
 
 strange, wan cheeks, and unbabylike, thin hands, 
 the tender-hearted mothers bend over it and weep 
 with those that weep ; but they mentally resolve 
 not to keep their own babies shut up in the close 
 air of the nursery, as this baby was, and not to 
 nauseate them with food when they are already 
 suffering from surfeit. And the mothers and the 
 strong men and the young people are right, though 
 the good deacons are not wrong. They are right, 
 because a very large proportion of deaths are un- 
 timely, and the lesson which they ought to teach 
 is less of the uncertainty of life than of the cer- 
 tainty of law, — the inexorable sequence of effect 
 and cause, — the fixedness of our organization, — 
 the absolute impossibility of sinning against our 
 constitution without suffering the penalty. This 
 is a lesson which should be learned, and this the 
 time when hearts are often most ready to learn it. 
 They have begun to point the moral themselves ; 
 if their leader has a sharper eye and a stronger 
 hand than theirs, let him complete the work. 
 Where they are slow to learn, let him be swift to 
 teach. But would it not be considered rather 
 below the dignity of the occasion to derive such a 
 conclusion from such an event ? Is it below the 
 dignity of the occasion ? Has God, or has he not, 
 given our health and our life in large measure to 
 our own keeping ? Is it according to his eternal 
 purpose that babies and young men and maidens 
 shall die, or that they shall do the world's work, 
 
PRA YER-MEETINGS. ] G7 
 
 and go down to the grave like a shock of corn in 
 its season, fully ripe ? Does he intend that we 
 shall violate the laws of our being, either through 
 ignorance or carelessness, and then resign ourselves 
 piously to the dispensations of Providence ? is it 
 a dispensation of Providence ? Is it not rather a 
 dispensation of improvidence ? 
 
 I know there are many cases where death comes 
 prematurely and unaccountably, but there are 
 more cases than we heed where it comes prema- 
 turely and accountably ; and the very fact that 
 there are sorrows which no foresight can prevent 
 is an additional reason why we should guard against 
 unnecessary sorrow. 
 
 I know that the innocent often suffer from the 
 transgressions of the guilty. When a young man 
 dies from his over-bold deed, his mother, who would 
 have given her life to save him, goes down to her 
 grave mourning. When a reckless engineer drives 
 his engine headlong to destruction, — when an ill- 
 built factory crumbles to shapeless ruin, — the 
 guilty and the guiltless, the responsible and the 
 irresponsible, perish in a common death, and their 
 mourneVs go about the streets. Healing balm for 
 their stricken spirits, — oil and wine, and tender- 
 est ministrations. But the question comes back, 
 What is the whole lesson to be derived for all from 
 every death ? And in each case, what is the 
 -whole lesson to be derived from this man's deatli ? 
 What is the moral which this event chiefly 
 points ? 
 
168 PR A YER-MEE TINGS. 
 
 For it cannot be said that, even when death 
 is self-invoked, prudence, carefuhiess, caution, is 
 the only lesson taught. Every soul that parts the 
 veil between this and the unseen world, no matter 
 under what circumstances, lets in a ray of light 
 from that world, which our heavy eyes often fail 
 to see ; and wdioever strikes off the scales so that 
 we can take in the heavenly vision does God ser- 
 vice by bringing heaven to earth. 
 
 But what I mean is this : if there is a right and 
 a wrong in this matter ; if there is a sm, the wages 
 of which is death ; that is, if death be the direct 
 result of culpable carelessness or ignorance, we 
 ought not to let the lesson which it directly 
 teaches go unlearned, and point out only the one 
 which it teaches indirectly ; we ought not to 
 confine ourselves to one aspect of the case, — the 
 uncertainty of life and the certainty of death, — 
 and warn and admonish from that stand-point only. 
 When a man dies, let us see whether it be not an 
 admonition for us to live. It may say, "Set thine 
 house in order, for thou shalt die " ; and it may 
 say, "Set thine house in order or thou shalt 
 die." 
 
 We make a mistake. We do not appreciate 
 life. We do not rise to the height of its dignity. 
 We exalt death and degrade life, when we should 
 exalt life and degrade death. Death is a penalty, 
 — " the mark of our shame, the seal of our sor- 
 row," — the deep dishonor of our race, — the yoke 
 
PR A YER-MEE TINGS. 1 69 
 
 under wliicli we must all bend our captive heads. 
 In death itself, there can be nothing noble, for 
 death is involuntary and inevitable. Death passes 
 upon all, for that all have sinned. Death is re- 
 pulsive. It works woe to strength and beauty. 
 It changes the likeness of God into dust and 
 desolation. 
 
 But life is glorious. Life is the time to serve 
 the Lord. Life is fruitful of great deeds. Life 
 carves the soul into Divine symmetry, if we will 
 but grasp it nobly. Life is the battle-ground ; 
 the hosts of sin are marshalled on the one side, 
 the hosts 'of holiness on the other ; man can 
 choose on which side he will serve, and there 
 is no greater victory than the victory over sin. 
 From the beginning to the end of life, the stal- 
 wart arm can always find a sturdy foe ; and every 
 blow struck is a blow for suiFering humanity, and 
 for the Christ that died to redeem it ; and every 
 blow struck is sure to be successful. 
 
 What is death to this ? Death is only an inci- 
 dent ; life is the essence. Death is passive ; life 
 is active. Death is shrinking ; life is aggressive. 
 Death is but for a moment ; life is forever. Death 
 is the blot of time ; life is the radiance of eternity. 
 
 When we talk about preparation for death, then, 
 what do we mean ? Is there any way of prepar- 
 ing for doath except living rightly ? Since death 
 is not a thing to be done, but to be endured ; not 
 heaven, but the passage into heaven ; not the 
 
170 PRA YER-MEETINGS. 
 
 judgment, but an antecedent of the judgment ; 
 not even a putting off, but a falling off, — while 
 all the good and all the glory are to be got from 
 life, — shall we not bend all our forces to living? 
 Since it is not a poetic fancy, but an eternal truth, 
 that 
 
 " There is no death, — what seems so is transition " 
 
 from corruptible to incorruption, from mortal to im- 
 mortality, — shall we not cry out with the tranced 
 poet and the rapt Christian : 
 
 « O Life, O Beyond, 
 Thou art strange, thou art sweet ! " 
 
 Blessed be God for giving us the boon of a life 
 so flooded with glory that its light stretches across 
 the very valley of the shadow of death, to where 
 the shining ones stand on the other side to receive 
 the eager soul, — for the boon of a life so heroic 
 that it ennobles even death, throwing its mantle 
 over that ghastly Terror, and so wrapping it in 
 the folds of love and faith and courage and con- 
 stancy, and all the grand, sweet virtues of mar- 
 tyrdom, that men rush to its embrace as a friend, 
 and Death, disarmed of his sting, and conquered 
 by Almighty power, 
 
 " Kisses them into slumbers like a bride." 
 
 " The present, the present, is all thou hast for 
 thy sure possessing." We know that we can 
 serve the Lord to-day, but we know not what 
 shall be on the morrow. The possible grave hid- 
 
PR A YER-MEE TINGS. 171 
 
 den in its mysterious folds may be, for one, 
 shrouded in thick darkness ; for another, haloed 
 with light ; but to all it is indistinct. • This we 
 know, that if we serve the Lord to-day, whether 
 by worshipping him in the great congregation, or 
 by giving a cup of cold water to one of his little 
 ones, he will not fail us. 
 
 Christ, laid hold of in faith to-day, will sustain 
 us In the overflowing of the waters to-morrow. 
 Though now, in the full flush of youth and health 
 and strength, every nerve instinct with vitality, 
 w^e cannot look at death without pain and shud- 
 dering, let us not fear. Dying grace will come 
 with dying. God, who hath so loved us, will not 
 leave us then. A father does not caress his child 
 through the long summer day, to abandon him at 
 nightfall. Darkness may veil him from the little 
 one's sight, or slumber lull him to temporary for- 
 getfulness ; but his loving-kindness wraps his child 
 about in the still hours, and a fatherly presence 
 is in the house for good. More loving than this, 
 an eye that never slumbers, and to which no dark- 
 ness is a veil, watches over us in all our weary 
 wanderings, and will surely not lose sight of us 
 when the dark river heaves its cold billows at our 
 feet. More than this, as a father precedes his 
 frightened child along rocky ways, removing all 
 obstructions, encouraging him with friendly words, 
 and holding out sustaining arms in the gloom, so 
 God came from Teman, the Holy One from Mount 
 
172 PRAYER-MEETIJSroX 
 
 Paran, and passed through the valley of shadows, 
 wresting from death his sting, from the grave his 
 victory, making the crooked places straight, and 
 the rough places plain, that we, his weak, fearfiil, 
 trembling children, may come off, not unharmed 
 only, but conquerors and more than conquerors, — 
 may have, not only a ^fe deliverance, but a tri- 
 umphant entrance into the city of our God, to go 
 no more out forever. O love of Christ, which 
 passe-th knowledge ! Unutterable love, from which 
 neither principalities, nor powers, nor things pres- 
 ent, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, 
 nor any other creature, shall be able to separate 
 us ! Shall we fear to trust it ? Shall we, through 
 fear of death, be all oiir lifetime subject to bond- 
 age ? Nay, rather let us walk joyfully before him 
 till the end come, and then lie down as joyfully in 
 the arms of everlasting love ; for so he giveth his 
 beloved sleep. 
 
 Again, there are too many meetings, — not too 
 many, perhaps, in the aggregate, but they are 
 not equally distributed, and there are too many in 
 spots. In sparsely-settled vill^es circumstances 
 may prevent the evil, but in many of our large 
 cities gregariousness is rampant. The clergyman 
 in a city church on last Sunday morning gave out 
 the following notices : " Morning Union Prayer- 
 meeting every morning at nine, and Evening 
 at five o'clock. Church prayer-meeting on Mon- 
 day evening. Stated prayer-meeting on Tuesday 
 
PRAYER-MEETINGS. 173 
 
 evening. Church meeting on Wednesday even- 
 ing, and lecture on Thursday evening." 
 
 To the mental vigor, moral power, and general 
 effectiveness of the pastor, if he attends all or half 
 the meetincrs, such a round of services must be 
 ruinous. No resources can supply so continuous 
 a demand. He must offer to his people the dry 
 rind of other men's grapes, instead of the richness 
 of his own purple vintage. Thought and feel- 
 ing are wrought up by palpable endeavor to the 
 proper pitch, instead of coming down by simple 
 force of gravity from a cataractic height of in- 
 ward life so vast, that every drop of water weighs 
 a pound, — not because it is hurled hard, but be- 
 cause it cannot help it. Christian individuality is 
 endangered by this prevailing tendency to associ- 
 ation. The type of character is less strong, vig- 
 orous, independent, than it should be. Religion 
 is more conventional and less personal. It fastens 
 on to the tongue, but does not strike in. Temp- 
 tation comes to a man alone ; so come strength 
 and firmness and integrity. Through the unex- 
 plored solitudes of the heart the whisper of the 
 tempter steals, and the still, small voice of con- 
 science speaks. There the battle is fought and — 
 lost to sin and shame and sorrow, or won for truth 
 and right and God ; and where the battle-ground 
 is, there should the man be at home. The way 
 to keep a foe from a disputed territory is to over^ 
 run it with your own armies. If you would not 
 
174 PRAYER-MEETINGS. 
 
 have the Devil inarch into your own heart, and 
 stake it off and take possession, you must pre-empt 
 the ground yourself in the name of the Most High 
 God. Satan is a great coward. He dares not 
 attack us in the broad day, when we are surround- 
 ed by the good, and hedged in by good influences, 
 but he steals upon our aloneness, — if it may be, 
 unawares. Let him find that we have been there 
 before him, — that Christ is lodged in every most 
 hidden depth of the soul, and every remotest 
 wilderness, — that every avenue is barred, every 
 pass guarded, every barricade bristling with guns, 
 — and he will call off his force with slight attack. 
 Resist the Devil and he will flee from you. 
 
 It is not in the woods, surrounded by its mates, 
 sheltered from the full fury of the storuk, and de- 
 prived of the full glory of the sun, that the tree 
 attains its grandest growth. It is alone in the 
 fields that its real might and majesty are seen ; 
 for there the North wind sweeps down in un- 
 checked madness, and every root thrusts out its 
 fibrous fingers in unrelaxing grasp upon the stur- 
 dy soil, and every slender twig exerts its utmost 
 strength to wrench itself from the icy embrace. 
 
 There are people who seem to find the one 
 Mediator between God and man, the man Christ 
 Jesus, insufficient. They can have no communion 
 with God unless there is a corporation between 
 him and them. They cannot find any house of 
 God unless there is a multitude going up with 
 
PRAYER-MEETINGS. 175 
 
 them. They are not easy until they have all 
 things common. They seem not to have any, or 
 at least they have a very feeble, conception of a 
 rivulet whose course can be marked only by the 
 deeper tint of violets, and the fresher green of the 
 upspringing grass. Unless they see the foaming, 
 and hear the roaring, they do not believe there 
 is any water there. By active piety, they under- 
 stand a readiness to take part in prayer-meetings 
 and exhortations. The more a man talks, the bet- 
 ter and brighter Christian he is. They cannot 
 conceive how any one who has tasted and seen 
 that the Lord is gracious, can prefer to stay at 
 home of an evening, rather than go to the chapel 
 or vestry. They are omnivorous and voracious. 
 Any kind of a meeting, so that it is a meeting, 
 suits them. They are shy about waiting upon the 
 Lord alone. Whenever they present themselves 
 to him, they seem to want a retinue. Such piety 
 is suspicious. 
 
 Association is a very good thing in its place, 
 but when it destroys or diminishes the sense of 
 personal responsibility ; when it substitutes the 
 temporary enthusiasm arising from contiguity of 
 place, for the serene and steady flame of love 
 towards God ; when it hides individual weakness 
 with collective strength in cases where the former 
 will, in the long run, not only ruin the individual, 
 but the mass, — then association is a very poor 
 thing, or, which amounts to the same, a good 
 
176 PRAYER-MEETINGS. 
 
 thing out of place. Its evil effects are contin- 
 ually seen. How often do we hear of Eastern 
 church-members leaving their homes, settling in 
 the West, and then forgetting their principles, 
 neglecting their duties, and living without God and 
 without hope in the world. Yet the moral almost 
 invariably drawn is, that churches must be estab-- 
 lished, and ministers sent there, in order to prevent 
 such grievous relapses, — which is a very different 
 moral from what I should draw. Undoubtedly the 
 men ought to go, and the churches ought to be 
 formed ; but I do not infer it from such facts. I 
 infer that our mode of operation needs to be over- 
 hauled at the East, rather than established at the 
 West. I should say that the trouble arose from 
 what happened before the man left his old home, 
 rather than from what happened after he reached 
 the new. His course there is the natural result 
 of his course here. He withers like the mown 
 grass, and for the same reason ; because he is 
 severed from the source of nourishment. Shall 
 we not then supply the nourishment again ? Not 
 at all. Such nourishment is factitious. " All my 
 springs are in Thee ! " The ordinances of rehg- 
 ion are but pipes for the better conveyance of the 
 water of life to thirsty souls. He mistook them 
 for the fountain itself, and when they were sev- 
 ered, instead of repairing directly to that, he 
 faded as a leaf, — he died of thirst. 
 
 There is no reason why a man who has once 
 
PBA YER-MEETINGS. 177 
 
 been born into grace should not go on growing in 
 it, — whatever his circumstances may be. A man 
 who owns a Bible has the very best of facilities 
 for learnincr God's will, thoucrh he has not all. 
 But the trouble is, men do not accustom them- 
 selves to standing alone at home, and consequently 
 they are weak in the knees when they go abroad. 
 They band together, and sway together, and hold 
 each other doubtfully up. All well enough if it 
 were possible to stay together always, and man's 
 chief end were to keep his feet ; but since cii'- 
 cumstances necessitate frequent separations, and 
 it is the duty of every individual to attain and 
 exert the greatest strength possible to him, this 
 dependence on others proves to be poor prepara- 
 tion for the coming coSntest. It relaxes the mus- 
 cles that should be tensely tightened, and the 
 nerves that should be firmly strung. So, when 
 the man goes off into the wilderness by himself, 
 he shivers and shakes and falls. To remedy this 
 defect by multiplying churches, is like trying to 
 strengthen a baby's legs by tying them up in 
 splinters. They will not give way while the splin- 
 ters are on, but the moment the splinters are 
 removed, down they fall as weak as before. This 
 is not the way mothers do. They strengthen the 
 weak hands and confirm the feeble knees with 
 generous supplies of wholesome, nutritious food. 
 They teach and guide, and leave the little feet to 
 totter on alone at the risk of a few falls. 
 
 8* L 
 
178 PRAYER-MEETINGS. 
 
 A faith that lays hold on God, and strikes 
 its roots into God, and derives its sustenance 
 from God, may be shaken, but cannot be sun- 
 dered. A faith that faints and dies must have 
 had its source this side of God, and needs not to 
 be renewed, but to be thrown off, to make room 
 for a better. Every young Christian should be 
 trained to stand, and walk, and fight alone. Out 
 of weakness he should be made so strong that his 
 single arm can subdue kingdoms, stop the mouths 
 of lions, and turn to flight the armies of aliens. 
 It should be an established fact that a man is to 
 be just as active and efficient a Christian single- 
 handed in the midst of a wicked and perverse 
 generation, as if he stood in the assemblies of 
 saints. The Church militant is not precisely like 
 the World militant ; for vvdiereas, in the latter, 
 superior numbers will conquer inferior, in the 
 former, one can chase a thousand, and two put 
 ten thousand to flight, — and yet they are, per- 
 haps, not so different after all, for in both it is 
 quality, not quantity, that wins the day. A regi- 
 ment of well-trained soldiers will disperse a mob 
 of angry thousands, and one valiant, able-bodied, 
 well-armed Christian is more than a match for the 
 snares of the crowded city or the squatter's wil- 
 derness. 
 
 I have no faith in a religion that cannot stand 
 fire. Of what earthly use is it, in a world where 
 temptations are the order of the day, where your 
 
PRAYER-MEETINGS. 179 
 
 adversary, the Devil, walketh about like a roaring 
 lion, seeking whom he may devour ? If a man 
 cannot be a good Christian without the counte- 
 nance of associates, he will not be much of a 
 Christian with. Understand, this does in no wise 
 militate against the ordinances of religion, any 
 more than Abraham Lincoln's present position 
 indicates that colleges are useless, and splitting 
 rails is the royal road to greatness. When a man 
 neglects an opportunity to avail himself of such 
 helps to learning as a college affords, the chances 
 are ninety-nine in a hundred that he has no desire 
 to learn. The Church is the Christian's college. 
 If he can, he will gladly improve its advantages. 
 If he cannot, he will by no means sink into stu- 
 pidity and sloth, but rub along as best he may, 
 and come out strong in the end. Too many 
 undergraduates make that the end which should 
 be the means, and when they come to be weighed 
 in the balance, they are found wanting. They 
 have not strength to resist unto blood, striving 
 against sin. 
 
 We- shall be judged singly, and not in squads. 
 The Church and the World must appear before 
 God by individuals, and every man give an ac- 
 count of himself. If thou art wise, thou art wise 
 for thyself. If thou scomest, thou alone shalt 
 bear it. 
 
VII. 
 
 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE, 
 
 HE ministry of the word at the present 
 clay, in the pulpit, in the prayer-meet- 
 ing, in private conversation, and in 
 % our rehgious hterature, fails to make 
 all the impression of which the truth is capable, — 
 fails to bring men up to the mark for'the prize of 
 their high calling, — fails to v^aeld most effectively 
 the two-edged sword of Divine power, — nay, 
 sometimes blunts its edge and destroys its temper, 
 because of the subjectivity to w^hich it appeals for 
 tests of Christian character. " Am I, are you, is 
 he, a Christian ? " is the anxious question that 
 arises in every hoping, trembling, awakened 
 heart, — hoping and trembling for itself or for 
 the weal of some dearer life than its own. How 
 shall an answer be obtained ? How ^s it ob- 
 tained ? The inquirer is urged to observe the 
 state of his mind as to the plan of salvation, — his 
 views of his character in the sight of God, — his 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 181 
 
 clear exercise of faith in Christ, — his sense of 
 pardon and acceptance, — his reception of Christ 
 as the only redemption, etc., — all orthodox and 
 therefore unobjectionable, — all subjective, and 
 therefore, in a measure, useless ; for the weak- 
 ness of man is that he can in no wise thread 
 the labyrinth of his own mind ; and the misery 
 of man is that, though his heart is deceitful and 
 desperately wicked, all the light that travels to 
 his soul must pass through it. Even if we could 
 take out of man all his sin, whether original or 
 acquired, — leaving him just as he is, only pure, 
 — still he would be ignorant of the workings of 
 his own mind. He would know effects, but 
 would be little skilled in causes. The how and 
 the why and the wherefore would be, for the 
 greater part, h sealed book to him. How much 
 more, when the heart has become warped and 
 clouded and untuned by sin, so that when we 
 demand just judgment, we receive the verdict 
 of prejudice and inclination and passion ; when 
 we look through it, we see but dimly ; when we 
 strike it, it gives an uncertain sound. 
 
 How many of us know from what our ideas are 
 derived, whence our conclusions are drawn, or 
 whither our opinions tend ? I am brave : is it 
 because I came of a race of mountaineers, or be- 
 cause I have never been in circumstances of real 
 danger, or because I am surrounded by ample 
 protection, or because I have never met the pre- 
 
182 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 cise object suited to call forth my peculiar latent 
 cowardice ? I am moved to indignation by the 
 corruption that pervades our land ; is it the innate 
 nobility of my soul, or the Puritan church spire 
 whose shadow fell athwart the path of my young 
 years, or a sordid, fixed, yet perhaps vague con- 
 viction, that, in the long run, honesty is the best 
 policy, or the dull delight of a half-unconscious 
 revenge for the disappointment of my youthful 
 hopes of political prominence, — any or all of 
 these ? The emotion in a man's mind may be 
 love to God and repentance unto salvation, or it 
 may be the influence of an earnest, faithful, be- 
 loved minister's mind upon his own, or it may be 
 that his heart, softened by the tears of some recent 
 affliction, can more readily receive the impress of 
 the Saviour's footsteps, or it may be the magnetism 
 of cognate life, or it may be all combined. The 
 workings of the mind are, from its very nature, 
 complex and hard to be understood ; but when the 
 element of sin is thrown into the calculation, who 
 can make the crooked paths straight and the rough 
 places plain ? "Is thy servant a dog that he 
 should do this thing?" cried the astonished and 
 indignant Hazael : for looking into his own heart 
 he did not see ambition, avarice, tyranny, oppres- 
 sion, cruelty, treachery, murder, — couchant \\or\s 
 in covert lairs, biding their time ; yet they were 
 there, and the prophet's eye, divinely keen, pen- 
 etrated their lurking-places, and an hour came 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 183 
 
 when they rose in their strength and wrought a 
 fell work. 
 
 Deeply and sadly impressed with the deceitful- 
 ness of this uncertain heart, another prophet cries 
 out, " Who shall know it ? " and from the heaven 
 of heavens comes the calm response, " I the Lord 
 search the heart," — implying, as plainly as words 
 can imply anything, that only the Lord is sufficient 
 for these things. Yet, be it remembered, through 
 this abyss of wickedness which no line of ours can 
 fathom, must the beams of the Sun of Righteous- 
 ness shine upon us. Surely, then, it cannot be 
 wise to trust so largely to its representations. It 
 cannot be wise to make so much account of the 
 interpretations of an organ which has so often 
 played us false that it has, in a measure, lost the 
 power of truth-telling, — nay, even of discerning 
 between truth and falsehood ; for it is not only a 
 deceiving, but a deceived heart, that turns us aside 
 so that we cannot deliver our souls, or say whether 
 or not there is a lie in our rio-ht hands. 
 
 Real self-examination being, then, so difficult — 
 not to say impossible — for many, for most peo- 
 ple, that they can make little headway in it, 
 a great deal of the advice which inculcates it 
 must be misplaced and injudicious. The self- 
 examination which does amount to anything is 
 generally incidental and involuntary. Ordinari- 
 ly, set a man down to put himself, in cold blood, 
 through a course of self-examination, and he is out 
 
184 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 at sea without compass or star or sun. His 
 thoughts go flying off in a tangent towards all 
 quarters of the globe. The last thing in the 
 world that he can concentrate himself on, is him- 
 self. Some are conscious of this ; some are not ; 
 but that does not affect the result. A boy sincerely 
 believes that he has been studying his lesson, when 
 he has only been poring over his book ; but his 
 lesson is no more learned than if he knew he had 
 been idling all the while. 
 
 Frames of mind, by which we set so much store 
 in making up an inventory of Christian posses- 
 sions, are comparatively of small value. A large 
 proportion of the copious extracts from private 
 diaries, which enter so largely into our religious 
 memoirs, are not only tiresome and useless, but 
 positively pernicious. As a general thing, they 
 would better never have been written ; but to dra^ 
 them into print is a harm to the world. Morbid 
 anatomists may find pleasure in it, and nerveless 
 organisms may feel no pain ; but a healthy, sensi- 
 tive soul can be only shocked. They prove noth- 
 ing, — nothing, at least, which they were designed 
 to prove ; for frames of mind are largely dependenll^ 
 on frames of body. Given a feeling of desponden- 
 cy ; it may be a sense of sin that overwhelms the 
 soul, or it may be the dyspepsia. Digestion is a 
 great aid to devotion. Serenity is tlie natural 
 concomitant of a well-ordered dinner ; while a 
 man who is suffering the horrors of clammy bread, 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE, 185 
 
 or an unmasticated dumpling, or a midnight mince- 
 pie, can hardly help viewing himself as altogether 
 vile, — and will not be far out of the way, either. 
 If we feel called upon to w^-ite out in our journals 
 a description of our raptures and our despondencies, 
 we should prefix to every one the bill of fare for 
 the day, the hour of rising and retiring, the amount 
 and quality of exercise taken and w^ork performed. 
 Thus the recital may be of service to physiology, 
 and, since physiology, like every other true science, 
 is the handmaid of religion, — to religion. This 
 is not, as some seem to suppose, making religion 
 wait upon the appetite, degrading it into a mere 
 camp-follower of the stomach, and projecting into 
 our theology a gross materialism. It is, on the 
 contrary, a thrusting back of the material, which 
 is always insolently attempting to encroach upon 
 the spiritual. It is branding the criminal, that all 
 men may see and shun him, or defend themselves 
 against him. It is the soul saying to the body : 
 " Hitherto you have rioted w^ith impunity, but you 
 shall go no further. You have masked your evil 
 deeds under a penitential sorrow, and, through 
 ignorance or negligence, you have escaped scot- 
 free. You have indulged your inclinations, and I 
 have paid the penalty. You have run up the 
 score, and I have footed the bills. Now we will 
 have a settlement and a readjustment. I w^ill 
 condescend to your weaknesses, but I w^ill not be 
 responsible for them. They must be my sorrow. 
 
186 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 but they shall not be my sin, — least of all, my 
 glory." 
 
 Such transcripts are, I think, injurious for two 
 reasons ; first, they emit a flavor of vanity and 
 hypocrisy. If it was a strictly private diary, its 
 privacy should still be respected. If it was not 
 strictly private, its value as a faithful transcriber — 
 which is its sole value — is gone. Secondly, they 
 often raise a false standard. They are apt to be held 
 up for our example, and young people are taught 
 to believe that they ought to have a similar expe- 
 rience. The probability is that they ought to have 
 no such thing. One man's feelings are no sort 
 of criterion for another man's feelings. Hold up 
 God in his thousand-fold manifestations, and duty 
 in its thousand forms, and let every man originate 
 his own feelino;s. Love to God and faith in Christ 
 are called forth by something outside of us, not 
 by anything within us. Looking unto Jesus, not 
 looking unto ourselves, is the true way to grow in 
 grace. 
 
 Plant divine truth, loosen the soil around it, 
 water it, and weed it, and let it alone. Do not be 
 continually digging up the seed to see if it has 
 sprouted. 
 
 It was human weakness endowed with heavenly 
 wisdom that cried, " Search me, O God, and know 
 my heart ; try me, and know my thoughts, and 
 see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead 
 me in the way everlasting." 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 187 
 
 In morals — in anything except mathematics — 
 there can be no mathematical certainty. The full 
 assurance of faith is — the full assurance of faith^ 
 not of positive, demonstrable knowledge ; and faith 
 is the substance of things hoped for^ the evidence 
 of things not seen. 
 
 It is said that, outside of mathematics, every 
 statement is but the balance of probabilities. If 
 this is true of matter, cognizable by the senses and 
 with balances external to us so that we can exam- 
 ine them, how much more is it true of mind, 
 wherein is no lens to annihilate distance or to 
 magnify minuteness. The mind's eye unassisted 
 must examine the whole. "With naked arms we 
 go down into the soul's arena to wrestle with her 
 concerning fate. Vaguely we question her of her 
 conditions. 
 
 To ask a sick man what is the matter with him, 
 and to rely upon his answer, would be the stupid- 
 ity of a quack. The man of science questions him 
 of his symptoms, it is true, and the patient de- 
 scribes them with what accuracy he may. Some- 
 times clearly, sometimes perforce obscurely ; but 
 in all cases the object is that he, the doctor, may 
 judge, from the patient's feelings and from his own 
 observations, what the real state of the case is ; he 
 knows that certain sensations which the sick man 
 describes refer to sources of which the sufferer is 
 ignorant. But in all spiritual diseases the sick 
 man is his own physician. No man, no being 
 
188 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 save the Omniscient, knows the motives of his 
 conduct, the conditions under which these motives 
 became his, the particular points, in short, which 
 make him different from other men. 
 
 And still the question remains unanswered. Still 
 the 
 
 " point I long to know, — 
 
 Oft it causes anxious thought, — 
 Do I love the Lord or no 1 
 Am I his or am I not 1 " 
 
 And still it will remain unanswered till we look for 
 it in the direction of " how do I live ? " as well as, 
 and rather than, in the direction of " how do I 
 feel ? " 
 
 Men grope for something tangible. Reaching 
 out after their feelings while their feelings elude 
 their grasp, or yield only to mislead and deceive, 
 longing for a real consciousness, a full assurance, 
 which they do not find because the test of charac- 
 ter does not come within the scope of their certain 
 knowledge of themselves, they set up other tests. 
 The minister says, truly, Scripturally, and often 
 eloquently : " You must repent of your sins, and 
 forsake them. You must take up the cross and 
 follow Christ. You must deny all ungodliness, 
 and every worldly lust, and live soberly, right- 
 eously, and godly. You must fear God and keep 
 his commandments, and walk circumspectly before 
 him." And the weary, heavy-laden, sin-sick heart 
 says : '' Yes, I will do all this. I will repent of my 
 sins and turn to Jesus. I will take up my cross 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 189 
 
 and join the church. I will be baptized bj the 
 minister, or confirmed by the bishop. I will go 
 to church, to the Sabbath school, to the prayer- 
 meeting, and the conference. I will take part 
 whenever I am called upon. I will speak to the 
 unconverted, warning them of their danger, and 
 trying to lead them to Jesus. I will maintain 
 family and private prayer." All right things to 
 do, only they are not Christianity, but a part of it. 
 Unless complemented by other weights, we have 
 a false balance, which is an abomination to the 
 Lord. 
 
 To preach the Gospel is, as I understand it, first 
 to explain it, secondly to enforce its obligations. 
 The first is theology theoretical ; the second is 
 theology practical. They dovetail into each other. 
 The first without the second is useless ; the sec- 
 ond without the first is inconsequent, — besides 
 being weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable. They 
 react upon each other. The first makes the sec- 
 ond intelhgent ; the second info?rms the first with 
 vitality. The first alone is a dead faith ; the sec- 
 ond alone is a dead morality, — both fit only to be 
 cast out and to be trodden under foot of men. An 
 enlightened brain will regulate the heart, and a 
 devout heart will interpret many hard sayings to 
 the baffled brain. Seeking to learn God is grander 
 than the possession of all other knowledge ; and 
 there is no commentary upon the Holy Scriptures 
 like a holy life. 
 
190 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 Now when the obh'gatlons of the Gospel are en- 
 forced, -I would have the tests of character brought 
 down into the pews, scattered along the benches of 
 the chapel, disseminated through memoirs and all 
 religious literature, in a manner that can be com- 
 prehended and applied by learned and unlearn- 
 ed, and which learned and unlearned alike need. 
 Thus : "Which of you who profess to be Christ's 
 disciples has this day, for his sake, manifested or 
 felt any interest in his little ones ? Which of you, 
 for the welfare or happiness of any human being, 
 or of any creature dependent on your care and 
 tenderness, or coming into any sort of relation with 
 you, has made — or has entertained the wish or 
 design, if opportunity offered, to make — any 
 sacrifice of time, inclination, money, or courtesy ? 
 
 If you wish to know whether you are a Chris- 
 tian, inquire of yourself whether, in and for the 
 love of God, you seek to make happy those about 
 you by smiles and pleasant sayings ? Is it a matter 
 of concernment, when you sit down to your break- 
 fast, to say a bright word of sympathy or endear- 
 ment or playfulness or cheer to your wife, your 
 son, your daughter? Do you give Tommy a pre- 
 liminary toss as you place him in his high chair, 
 or do you praise Kitty's first awkward attempt to 
 smooth her own hair ? Do you notice the little 
 arrangements that have been made for your com- 
 fort and convenience ? Do you compliment the 
 cook on the nice coffee, or the light buckwheat 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 191 
 
 cakes, or the beautifully brown toast which she sets 
 before you, — particularly if the cook bea$;s your 
 own name ? When the cat puts up her soft paw 
 to remind you that she is there, does your hand 
 slide down to rub her fur, and thus make her hap- 
 pier for your thought of her, — or, if a law of the 
 Medes and Persians forbids her the dining-room, 
 do you throw her a bit of bread to console her ex- 
 ile ? Is the faithful dog rewarded by his share, 
 not only of food, but of favoritism ? If you have 
 yourself an unconquerable aversion to cats and 
 dogs, do you still see to it that their lives are not 
 a burden to them ? If you meet a child crying in 
 the street, do you endeavor to console him ? Do 
 you ever buy a penny's worth of candy for the 
 ragged boy who is looking at it with eager eyes 
 through the shop-window on Christmas eve ? Do 
 you take pains now and then to speak a cheery 
 word to the widow whose only son has gone on a 
 long sea- voyage ? As your sons and daughters ap- 
 proach maturity, does their obedience and affection 
 increase or diminish ? Do they go out from your 
 house as from a prison or from a home, — with 
 eacrer feet indeed, but with a tender linQ-erino; at 
 
 o ' OCT 
 
 the last ? When you come into the house, do you 
 bring sunshine with you ? If there is a cloud on 
 your brow, do your family seem more anxious to 
 dissipate it, or to get out of your way ? If your 
 sons see you on the other side of the street, do they 
 run over to join you, or do they turn down an alle^ 
 
192 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 to avoid you, or keep on their own side till they 
 are obliged to cross ? Do the clerks in your ware- 
 house, the carpenters who are building your house, 
 the Irishmen who are laying your pipes, the plough- 
 nsan who is furrowing your land, the gardener who 
 is pruning your trees, like to have you pass by, for 
 the pleasantness of your manner in commending 
 their labor, or the courteousness with which you 
 listen to their complaints or requests, or the quiet 
 consideration with which you suggest alterations 
 and improvements ? Do mothers like to have 
 their sons work on your farm during the summer 
 months, and do the boys like to come ? In short, 
 are you a comfortably person to live with ? Are 
 you pleasant to have about ? 
 
 We often have In the columns of religious news- 
 papers sketches of eminent Christians. I read one 
 lately of a farmer's wife who used to delight in 
 prayer-meetings, celebrated her children's birth- 
 days by prayer, and spent whole days in praying. 
 All these are favorable signs, but before I pro- 
 nounce her an eminent Christian, I should like 
 to know whether, previous to her withdrawal from 
 the family circle to pray all day, she made any 
 provision for the extra la^bor that her absence 
 would devolve on others, or whether Bridget had 
 to skim the milk and wash the pans, besides her 
 cooking, sweeping, and dusting, or whether the 
 work was let go till the next day ; and if so, 
 whether the next day went smoothly. I should 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 193 
 
 like to know whether, when a Httle restless, chub- 
 by hand upset the gravy-boat on the clean table- 
 cloth, she bound herself over to keep the peace, — 
 whether in her house cleanliness was made sub- 
 servient to comfort, or comfort to cleanliness, — 
 whether she ever laid down her sewing and took 
 into her arms the half-sick and wholly cross, fret- 
 ful, and miserable four-year-old boy, to charm 
 away his unhaj)piness with a fairy story, or any 
 kind of story, or song, or simple talk, — whether 
 she gave her heretical neighbor credit for as much 
 candor, sincerity, truthfulness, earnestness, and 
 unselfishness in his religion as he developed and 
 she recognized in his character of citizen, neighbor, 
 and father, — wdiether the delicious green-pea soup 
 that she sent in to the sick woman next door was 
 the result of an extra amount made for the pur- 
 pose, or whether the Irish girl dined per force, 
 that day, off cold boiled pork and potatoes, — 
 whether she was generally ready to step into the 
 wagon when it came to the door on Sunday morn- 
 ings, or whether she provoked her husband to 
 wrath by keeping them all waiting. 
 
 " The world is wide, these things are small." 
 
 But it was a pebble's edge that ordained the 
 course of two mighty rivers, — 
 
 " One to long darkness and the frozen tide, 
 One to the Peaceful Sea." 
 
 The trouble is, that, when you present things in 
 
 9 M 
 
194 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 this light, so many people look upon it as a sabsti- 
 tution of morality for religion, — works for faith. 
 It is nothing of the sort. It is bringing one along- 
 side the other, in which position only are they of 
 any use in the world. The black knight swore 
 that the shield was gold ; the white knight as 
 stoutly maintained that it was silver ; but they 
 shivered their lances for a half-truth, — for it was 
 gold on one side and silver on the other. It is true 
 that mere morality does not make a perfect man, for 
 we are justified by faith ; but wilt thou not also 
 know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead, 
 and, of the two, by far the worse off? for good 
 works may benefit others, though they have no 
 beneficial reflex influence, but a dead faith cheer- 
 eth the heart of neither God nor man. Faith and 
 works are like the two blades of a pair of scissors. 
 They must be riveted together in order to accom- 
 plish anything for their possessor. Separated, one 
 is worth as much as the other, — both good for 
 nothing. Truth is many-sided, though always in- 
 tegral. God alone can see its sublime integrity, — 
 we contemplate it in phases. From too long gaz- 
 ing on one, we forget another, and our religion 
 becomes one-sided. " Just as if works were any- 
 thing ! " a young girl was overheard to say, coming 
 out of a prayer-meeting. " Just as if ploughing 
 and hoeing and planting and weeding are any- 
 thing ! " the farmer might as well say ; " it is rain 
 from heaven and dew and sunshine that I want." 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 195 
 
 Very true, but rain and dew and sunshine may- 
 fall on the plain a thousand years, and never once 
 shall his fields wave their silken tassels to the 
 breeze, or his barns overflow with garnered grain. 
 The sunshine floods in vain the soil that is not pre- 
 pared to receive it. No rain can germinate the 
 seed that has never been planted. That the one 
 is vain without the other, is no truer than that the 
 other is vain without the one. Paul presented 
 one side of the shield to the Roman disciples, and 
 they shut their eyes to the other, — wresting his 
 words to their own destruction. But James, just 
 as truly inspired as Paul, held up to view the side 
 which they ignored, and, with a sturdy common 
 sense that scarcely needed any higher wisdom, 
 rounded their theory to completion. " What doth 
 it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath 
 faith, and have not works ? can faith save him ? 
 If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of 
 daily food, and one of you say unto them. Depart 
 in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; notwithstand- 
 ing ye give them not those things which are need- 
 ful to the body ; what doth it profit ? Even so 
 faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. 
 Yea, a man may say. Thou hast faith, and I have 
 works ; show me thy faith without thy works, and 
 
 I will show thee my faith by my works By 
 
 works was faith made perfect By works a 
 
 man is justified, and not by faith only." *' Be- 
 lieve in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou ^halt be 
 
196 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 saved," said Paul, presenting that phase of the 
 truth that was best fitted to those whom he ad- 
 dressed. " The devils also believe and tremble," 
 follows up James, throwing himself once more 
 into the breach, aEid driving back the formalism, 
 selfishness, and malice that would march under 
 the banner of Paul's succinct words. 
 
 So the Bible balances itself, — repentance unto 
 salvation bringing forth fruits meet for repentance. 
 It is ours to keep the balance true, but we do not 
 do it. I cannot, of course, speak of the Church 
 as a whole, but, so far as it has fallen under my 
 observation, I should say that its religion was 
 ahead of its morality, — that church-members, as 
 a class, perform their distinctively religious duties 
 better than the duties which are not distinctively 
 religious ; while it seems to me to be of the first 
 importance that the morality of the Church should 
 keep pace with its religion, — that its duties in 
 the world, as citizens — merchants, farmers, law- 
 yers, mechanics — should be as scrupulously per- 
 formed as its duties to itself. If the Church were 
 true to her divine calling, the gates of hell should 
 not prevail against her. It is because she is false 
 to her trust that her chariot-wheels drive heavily. 
 
 Every now and then, some sharp-sighted, keen- 
 scented hound sniffs a heresy, and anon the hunts- 
 man puts the bugle to his lips, and all the faithful 
 are summoned to hunt down the game ; but as I 
 read history I find that in every age the world has 
 
TUh PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 197 
 
 been growing heretical, and that, while some of its 
 heresies were heresies indeed, others have been the 
 peaceable fruits of righteousness, so that the cry- 
 has ceased to inspire terror. The name is no long- 
 er formidable. The manner in which Paul wor- 
 shipped the God of his fathers was heresy to the 
 tithe-paying, stiff-necked, hard-hearted Jews, and 
 Tertullus, arraigning him before Felix, with self- 
 complacent eloquence could find no meeter charac- 
 terization than that ''pestilent fellow," the "ring- 
 leader of the sect of the Nazarenes." To the 
 pampered ecclesiastics of the sixteenth century, 
 the right of private judgment was a most damnable 
 heresy ; and even Sir Thomas More, a man of 
 clean hands and a pure heart, who himself dared 
 to die for a principle, could earnestly advocate that 
 Tyndale be burnt at the stake for the well-being 
 of Christ and the Church. For eighteen hundred 
 years, the Devil has been crying "Wolf!" and 
 there have never been found wanting a great mul- 
 titude of foolish, and a small sprinkling of wise 
 men, who, untaught by the past, would leave their 
 pleasant firesides and rush pell-mell to the rescue ; 
 but when the confusion is over, and we come at 
 length to the conclusion that we have been im- 
 posed upon, and that the death-dealing wolf was 
 nothing but a harmless little ewe-lamb, and return, 
 somewhat crestfallen, to our homes, we find that 
 our crests must fall lower yet, — that we are the 
 victims of a double deception, — that while we 
 
198 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 were flourishing our shillalahs, and wrenching our 
 arms with random blows, right and left, at nothing, 
 Satan has walked in at the back door, and helped 
 himself, — helped himself to our probity, our cour- 
 tesy, our self-command, our uprightness and honor 
 and manhood. 
 
 Brethren, these things ought not so to be. "We 
 have been stunned long enough with the cry of 
 ' Gospel, Gospel ! ' we want Gospel manners," — 
 and what Erasmus wanted, we want to-day. Half 
 of the heresies would die out of themselves, if let 
 alone, and a holy life is the best bulwark against 
 them all. The worst heresies that I know of — 
 those that lay hold of the strength of the Church, 
 that tie her hands, and paralyze her tongue, and 
 poison her atmosphere — are lying and stealing 
 and avarice and selfishness. It is they which eat 
 out the heart of Christianity, making that which 
 should be the temple of the Lord, wherein all who 
 desire to behold his beauty shall inquire, a sepul- 
 chre full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness. 
 
 Of a surety the Church has a work to do, and 
 how shall she be straitened till it be accomplished ! 
 All who hinder the completion of the work, all 
 who weaken the power of the Church, are fight- 
 ing against God. But the weakeners of her 
 power are from within, not from without. She 
 gets a few pricks and scratches from her foes, 
 but she receives her severest wounds in the house 
 of her friends. Freedom and slavery, activity 
 
THh PROOF OF YOJR LOVE. 199 
 
 and stagnation, the Bible and priestcraft, drew 
 their swords on the soil of Spain three hun- 
 dred years ago ; kingly power and monkish des- 
 potism combined to crush out the young truth 
 with a success to which three centuries of degra- 
 dation bear sorrowful witness. But it is not so 
 with us. Our fathers fought the battle, and won 
 the victory, before we were born, and we enter 
 into their labors. Now, the Church has only to 
 arise and shine. The puny adversaries that attack 
 her now are not worthy to be compared with the 
 giants that were on the earth in those days. If 
 she had on the whole armor of God, all the isms 
 that hurtle against her would make no more im- 
 pression than a child's dimpled fingers on the 
 granite shaft of Bunker Hill. She herself fur- 
 nishes her enemies with their most effective weap- 
 ons. The batterino;-rams of Satan would thunder 
 at her gates in vain, if traitors within did not sap 
 the walls. She would not only hold her own, but 
 she would carry the war into the enemy's camp, — 
 aggressive, energetic, victorious, — if her rank and 
 file were trusty. If you believe Unitarianism or 
 Parkerism or Spiritualism to be not of God, show 
 by your purer and more benevolent life, by your 
 greater truthfulness, your sweeter temper, your 
 larger charity, and your stricter honesty, that the 
 word of God has freer course to run and be glori- 
 fied in your creed than in the other. You may be 
 slow of speech and slow of tongue, but nothing 
 
200 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 can withstand the logic of a manly, blameless, be- 
 neficent life. Heresies can be lived down a thou- 
 sand times more effectually than they can be 
 hunted down. Let every one be able to give a 
 reason for the hope that is in him, and then let 
 him show out of a good conversation his works 
 with meekness of wisdom. 
 
 It cannot be too deeply impressed on our minds 
 that it is the good people that do the mischief. If 
 villany could only be confined to villains, we should 
 not find it so hard to set the world right. When 
 a highway robber plunders a man, or a notorious 
 liar tells a lie, or a confirmed miser passes by on 
 the other side of suffering, want, and unhappiriess, 
 we do not feel that Christ has been struck at. 
 There is harm done ; sin is committed ; but Chris- 
 tianity is not impeached. Rather her hands are 
 strengthened. We feel more deeply the need 
 of some such influence to restrain us from evil. 
 It is the sober, loyal, industrious, Sabbath-keep- 
 ing, sound-principled, respectable church-member 
 whose weaknesses and wickednesses spring up and 
 bear fruit an hundred-fold. Every cliurch-member 
 who indulges in dishonesty, petulance, niggardli- 
 ness, falsehood, wilful ignorance, quarrelsomeness, 
 or selfishness, is an active missionary of the Devil, 
 and a missionary laboring with every advantage. 
 
 When light is suddenly let in upon the life of a 
 blood-stained pirate, the world shudders, — catch- 
 ing a glimpse at the abyss into which man, left of 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 201 
 
 his Maker, may fall, and crime becomes more hate- 
 ful than before. But when a statesman, covered 
 with years and honors, or a clergyman, who has 
 long broken the bread of life to his people, goes 
 over to wroncT-doino;, or to wrong-sufferino- moral- 
 ity and religion are stabbed ; for not only will 
 multitudes be led to go and do likewise, but other 
 multitudes, standing afar oflp, will attribute to Chris- 
 tianity the weakness of its professors, and so the 
 Son of God is crucified afresh, and put to an open 
 shame. When Satan comes with horns and hoof, 
 unmitigated and hideous, we are shocked, and flee 
 from him ; but when he puts on his robes of light, 
 we take him to our hearths and hearts — the dear, 
 benevolent, large-brained one — and entertain him 
 sumptuously unawares. 
 
 This ought not to be so, but it is so. Men ought 
 to judge justly, but they will not. Because a 
 church-member is obstinate, stiff-necked, and rebel- 
 lious, men ought not to think that the spirit which 
 the Gospel inculcates is not gentle and easy to be 
 entreated, but they do. The sin of doing it is 
 theirs, but the sin of giving them occasion to do it 
 is ours, and no small sin is it, — if any sin can be 
 small, — either in its extent or its consequences. 
 Practical infidelity in the Church sows theoretical 
 infidelity broadcast over the world, — the hideous 
 dragon's teeth spring up into strong-armed men 
 against the law and the Gospel. 
 
 It would seem as if this truth would be patent to 
 
 9* 
 
202 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 the most unthinking ; but if it is, why is there so 
 much defect in our holiest things ? If we know 
 that, while there is a sense in which every sin of 
 the " unregenerate " is a preacher of Christianity, 
 there is no sense in which the sins of the " regen- 
 erate " are not a grievous and deadly wound, — if 
 we know that, while every sin committed by the 
 confessedly unprincipled throws into greater relief 
 the purity of the Gospel, and increases our sense 
 of its need, every sin committed by the professedly 
 principled tends to dii'ectly the opposite, — how is 
 it that we who profess to have taken Christ into our 
 hearts, and to follow those sacred feet through all 
 our way, can, not simply fall into sin, but walk 
 into it in broad daylight, with both eyes open, and 
 stay in it and revel there ? How can we forget 
 that the shadow of our sin falls athwart religion, 
 and dims the light that should shine upon those 
 that sit in darkness ? With what force would not 
 the minister's words fall upon the ears of the un- 
 repentant, if he could point to his church and say, 
 " Behold Israelites indeed, in whom is no guile ! " 
 I remember reading a sketch of a young girl 
 who, for a long time, resisted almost sullenly the 
 advances of her Sabbath-school teacher and friends, 
 seemed proof against the influence of the Gospel, 
 and, indeed, doubted its genuineness and authentici- 
 ty. Years afterward, when she had been brought 
 under its. power, it was ascertained that the stum- 
 bling-block in her way had been the selfishness 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 203 
 
 and worldliness of an aunt who professed the reh'g- 
 ion of Christ, but whose hfe was not conformed to 
 its principles. So the young girl judged — not 
 alone from hardness of heart, but naturally and 
 logically — that religion was an imposture. Her 
 reasoning was quite correct, only her premises 
 were not true, though they had sufficiently the 
 appearance of truth to deceive an older and wiser 
 head than hers. By their fruits ye shall know — 
 then-L By the fruits which religion shows in one 
 man, we know the power of religion in one man. 
 But she, and many others with her, make the 
 mistake of translating Christ to mean, by their 
 fruits ye shall know ^7, that is religion. Now, if 
 we were in the habit of taking enlarged views, of 
 judging justly, of deducing universal conclusions 
 only from universal premises, there would be less 
 responsibility on individual Christians. The his- 
 tory of Christianity, in its inception and progress, 
 proves its divine origin and its perfect adequacy ; 
 but nineteen men out of twenty never take a com- 
 prehensive view of anything. They know little 
 or nothing of the working or the spread of Chris- 
 tianity. They judge it from what they see of it 
 in their grocer and butcher and shoemaker, and 
 others with whom they have dealings. True, 
 they can and ought to judge it from their Bibles ; 
 but the question is not what they ought to do, 
 but what they do, and as long as they form their 
 opinions from the grocer's life, the grocer is under 
 
204 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 double bonds to give a true rendering of its prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 Here is a member of an Orthodox church " in 
 good and regular standing." His place at church 
 is seldom vacant. His attendance on prayer- 
 meetings is prompt and constant. He lifts up his 
 voice in prayer and exhortation, tells what the 
 Lord has done for him, would on no account walk 
 or ride on Sunday, except from necessity, scarcely 
 even from mercy, has an acute sense of moral re- 
 sponsibility, and professes to desire to speak and 
 write only what will be for the glory of God and 
 the good of souls. Near by lives a woman, a wid- 
 owed wife, who, in the abandonment of her sor- 
 row, has neglected to perform a usual courtesy 
 towards him, — which omission, by vigorous eifort, 
 may be twisted into a culpable indiflPerence to re- 
 ligion, but which has really no more connection 
 with religion than has the rising of the sun or the 
 fallincr of the dew. There are several things which 
 he can do. He can say, " This woman is crushed 
 by grief and overwhelmed by cares to which she is 
 unaccustomed. It would be unworthy in me at 
 such a time to notice so slight a matter." Or he 
 might say, " This is too important a thing to be 
 allowed to pass silently. I will ascertain whether 
 my suspicions be correct, and if so, I will, at a fit- 
 ting time, gently advise, and suggest whether duty 
 do not point out a different course." Not so. 
 He does what looks very much like soothing his 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 205 
 
 wounded and inordinate self-love with the idea of 
 doing God service, assumes the worst possible mo- 
 tives for the trivial act, so turning a sorrowful, 
 momentary forgetfulness towards himself into 3 
 deliberate sin against God, and smites with crue"i 
 reproaches, harder in her condition to bear than 
 blows, one whom God has already sorely smitten. 
 
 Here is another man who is not a Christian. 
 He scarcely believes in moral accountability. Hfo 
 seldom goes to meeting unless there is a prospect 
 of unusually fine singing. He generally stops at 
 home on Sunday, writes letters, reads the news- 
 papers, has a jovial dinner, drives a span of fine 
 horses, smokes half a dozen cigars or so, and loun- 
 ges generally. He is too gentlemanly to swear, 
 unless he is very much excited. He drinks wine, 
 but seldom loses in it his self-control, — becomes 
 animated, but not boisterous. He is waited on one 
 day by a man of noble character, but wanting in 
 what we Yankees call " faculty." This man's af- 
 fairs are entangled beyond his own power to extri- 
 cate them. An able but unscrupulous person is 
 attempting, with every prospect of success, to wrest 
 from him his little property, and he, being acciden- 
 tally thrown in with my pleasant pagan friend, 
 apphes to him for counsel. My friend is not a 
 lawyer. His profession, which is active and ex- 
 acting, removes him entirely from that sphere of 
 life ; but he is clear-headed,' — a man of great 
 practical sagacity, great common-sense. ' He is 
 
206 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 moved bj the calamity that threatens an innocent, 
 brave, though " incapable " man. He knows that 
 a lawyer's fee would exhaust a large portion of the 
 poor man's estate. He sees the direction in which 
 steps ought to be taken. He leaves his own busi- 
 ness to his own hurt. He takes up the cause of 
 the poor man, heads off his opponent, clears away 
 the rubbish, works through a whole summer till 
 the poor man's rights are triumphantly established, 
 and his small property restored to him beyond 
 danger of alienation, and then goes home without 
 one cent of fee, with no reward save the gratitude 
 of the man and his family who have been saved 
 from penury, and takes up again the broken thread 
 of his own business. 
 
 In the light of the Divine precept, " Bear ye 
 one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of 
 Christ," which of these men went down to his 
 house justified ? 
 
 We, who are large-minded and wise, are not 
 deceived in this thing. We know that, though 
 religion may adorn and illuminate a one-story 
 house, it can never make it a two-story house. 
 We know that the first man was essentially nar- 
 row-minded and petty, and that religion may have 
 expanded him, though it had not made him great. 
 We know that the leaven of love may have been 
 in his heart, though it had not yet leavened the 
 whole lump ; that his short-comings may not 
 have been because the good work was not begun 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 207 
 
 in him, but because it was not finished, and that 
 this particular short-coming was in a quarter that 
 the Gospel had not reached ; that he was not ne- 
 cessarily, nor even probably, utterly hypocritical 
 in his prayers, praises, and professions, because he 
 had showed himself in this respect utterly selfish ; 
 that religion is not an imposition because here it 
 had left him in the lurch. We know, too, that 
 the second man started in advance. He was or- 
 ganized with a larger heart. He had by nature 
 what the other will hardly attain by grace, and, 
 even with that advantage, his generosity would 
 never have attained so rich a growth had it not 
 struck root in a soil mellowed through no in- 
 tervention of his, by the culture of eighteen cen- 
 turies, and opened in the reflected beams of the 
 Sun of Righteousness, which shines alike upon the 
 evil and the good. We know that his natural 
 kindliness has been fostered by the genial atmos- 
 phere that wrapped him about unconscious, and 
 that it would have borne still fairer fruit had he 
 but suffered the dews of Divine love to penetrate 
 to the roots. We know all this, and are in no 
 danger of deeming religion a deception on the one 
 side or a superfluity on the other. 
 
 But your clerk, who is an observant, though 
 necessarily from his years an inexperienced young 
 man, does not think of all this. He sees only the 
 expressed premise, and he judges therefrom. He 
 sees the irreligious man fulfilling the law of -Christ, 
 
208 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 and the relio-Ious man breaking it. He sees the 
 one performing an act which commands his high- 
 est admiration, and the other guilty of a meanness 
 which excites his severest contempt ; nor does 
 the rehgious indifference of the one, or the rehg- 
 ious zeal of the other, seem to be at all affected 
 by it, or in any way related to it. What shall he 
 infer ? What will he probably, or at any rate, 
 what is there danger that he will infer ? 
 
 I am aware that I am not on the highest ground, 
 but it is not low. To lead an upright life because 
 our neio;hbors are lookino; at us, is less noble than 
 to do it because God wills it. The latter is a suf- 
 ficient reason for the practice of every virtue ; yet 
 if the former, from its constant presence and defi- 
 niteness, will stir us up by way of remembrance, 
 when the latter is momentarily forgotten, we 
 need not despise it from the heights of our lofti- 
 ness. If, beyond this, we are incited by the desire 
 to benefit our brother, to guide him to the right 
 way by keeping our Own light burning brightly, 
 to win him to the 'Gospel by showing him into 
 how fair a shape the Gospel has carved our own 
 lives, — then, indeed, though we be not on the 
 highest ground, we are but little lower than the 
 angels. 
 
 Every one who subscribes with his hand unto 
 the Lord ought to understand — and if he does not 
 understand, his spiritual teachers should instruct 
 him — that on his Mondays and Tuesdays and 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 209 
 
 Wednesdays and Thursdays and Fridays and Sat- 
 urdays, on the market-days and quarter-days and 
 holidays and baking-days and washing-days and 
 sweeping-days, on the spring sales and the win- 
 ter's sledding", on the fall sewino; and the summer 
 picnics, on the morning prayers and the evening 
 parties, should be inscribed, Holiness unto the 
 Lord ! 
 
 Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not 
 defile himself with the king's meat and wine, 
 thinking that pulse was better, and they tried him 
 for ten days with pulse. If at the end of that time 
 he had exhibited shrunken cheeks, thin lips, cav- 
 ernous eyes, and a general leanness in his bones, 
 it would have furnished but a poor argument in 
 favor of his vegetarian diet ; but when, at the end 
 of ten days, his countenance appeared fairer and 
 fatter in flesh than all the children which did eat 
 the portion of the king's meat, there was no more 
 trouble about it. He had his pulse and welcome. 
 His looks were an argument which nothing could 
 gainsay or resist. 
 
 So, when the presidents and princes, moved with 
 envy because Daniel had been preferred above 
 them, sought to find occasion against him concern- 
 ing the kingdom, they could find none occasion nor 
 fault ; forasmuch as he was faithful, neither was 
 there any eorror or fault found in him : and in de- 
 spair they exclaimed, " We shall not find any 
 occasion against this Daniel, except we find it 
 
210 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 against him concerning the law of his God." 
 Daniel's courageous devotion would never have 
 been handed down for the world's admiration and 
 imitation, if the presidents and princes could have 
 discovered a flaw in Daniel's account-book, an 
 attempt to embezzle the funds, a neglect of the 
 material interests of the kingdom, or a conspiracy 
 against the king's life. 
 
 The religion that the world is dying for is not a 
 treasure, valued and cherished, indeed, but cher- 
 ished under a glass case in the best room, carefully 
 dusted, and visible only on days of high festival. 
 We want a religion that is an atmosphere, wrap- 
 ping us about above and below ; going down into 
 the lungs in deep-drawn inspirations, to purify and 
 energize ; filtering into the blood, to tint and 
 quicken ; spreading out in the skin, to protect 
 and adorn ; piercing noisome cellars to dispel the 
 noxious, death-dealing vapors ; mounting into the 
 parlors and bed-rooms and kitchens, to keep them 
 sweet and healthful ; permeating and interpene- 
 trating all things ; a savor of life unto life. 
 
 We want a religion that softens the step, and 
 tones the voice to melody, and fills the eye with 
 sunshine, and checks the impatient exclamation 
 and the harsh rebuke ; a religion that is polite, 
 deferential to superiors, courteous to inferiors, and 
 considerate of friends ; a religion that goes into 
 the family, and keeps the husband from being 
 spiteful when the dinner is late, and keeps the din- 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 211 
 
 ner from being late, — keeps the wife from fretting 
 when the husband tracks tlie newlj washed floor 
 with his muddy boots, and makes the husband 
 mindful of the scraper and the door-mat, — keeps 
 the mother patient when the baby is cross, and 
 keeps the baby pleasant, — amuses the children as 
 w^ell as instructs them, — wins as well as governs, 
 — cares for the servants, besides paying them 
 promptly, — projects the honey-moon into the har- 
 vest-moon, and makes the happy home like the 
 Eastern ficr-tree, bearino; in its bosom at once the 
 beauty of the tender blossom and the glory of the 
 ripened fruit ; a religion that looks after the appren- 
 tice in the shop, and the clerk behind the counter, 
 and the student in the office, with a fatherly care 
 and a motherly love, — setting the solitary in fam- 
 ilies, introducing them to pleasant and wholesome 
 society, that their lonely feet may not be led into 
 temptation, forgiving occasional lapses while striv- 
 ing to prevent them, and to supply, so far as may 
 be, the place of the natural guardians by a vigi- 
 lance that attracts without annoying. 
 
 We want a religion that shall intei-pose contin- 
 ually between the ruts and gullies and rocks of the 
 highway of life, and the sensitive souls that are 
 travellincr over them. 
 
 We want a religion that bears heavily, not only 
 on the " exceeding sinfulness of sin," but on the 
 exceeding rascality of lying and stealing, — a re- 
 ligion that banishes short measures from the conn- 
 
212 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE, 
 
 ters, small baskets from the stalls, pebbles from the 
 cotton-bags, clay from paper, sand from sugar, 
 chicory from coffee, otter from butter, flour from 
 cream of tartar, beet-juice fr'om vinegar, alum from 
 bread, strychnine from wine, water from milk-cans, 
 and buttons from the contribution-box. The re- 
 ligion that is to save the world will not put all the 
 big strawberries at the top, and all the bad ones 
 at the bottom. It will sell raisins on stems, instead 
 of stems without raisins. It will not offer more 
 baskets of foreign wines than the vineyards ever 
 produced bottles, and more barrels of Genesee flour 
 than all the wheat-fields of New York grow and 
 all her mills grind. It will not make one half of 
 a pair of shoes of good leather, and the other of 
 poor leather, so that the first shall redound to the 
 maker's credit, and the second to his cash ; nor, if 
 the shoes have been promised on Thursday morn- 
 ing, will it let Thursday morning spin out till Sat- 
 urday night. It will not put Jouvin's stamp on 
 Jenkins's kid Hoves ; nor make Paris bonnets in 
 the back room of a Boston milliner's shop ; nor let 
 a piece of velvet, that professes to measure twelve 
 yards, come to an untimely end in the tenth ; or a 
 spool of sewing-silk, that vouches for twenty yards, 
 be nipped in the bud at fourteen and a half; nor 
 the cotton-thread spool break, to the yard-stick, fifty 
 of the two hundred yards of promise that was given 
 to the eye ; nor yard-wide cloth measure less than 
 thirty-six inches from selvage to selvage ; nor 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 213 
 
 all-wool delaines and all-linen handkerchiefs be 
 ' amalgamated with clandestine cotton ; nor water- 
 proof cloaks be soaked through in an hour; nor 
 coats made of old woollen rags pressed together be 
 sold to an unsuspecting public for legal broadcloth. 
 It does not put bricks at five dollars per thousand 
 into chimneys which it contracted to build of seven- 
 dollar materials ; nor smuggle white pine into 
 floors that have paid for hard pine ; nor leave 
 yawning cracks in closets where boards ought to 
 join ; nor daub ceilings that ought to. be smoothly 
 plastered ; nor make wandow-blinds with slats that 
 cannot stand the wind, and paint that cannot stand 
 the sun, and fastenings that may be looked at, but 
 are on no account to be touched. It does not send 
 the little boy, who has come for the daily quart of 
 milk, into the barn-yard to see the calf, and seize 
 the opportunity to skim off the cream ; nor does 
 it surround stale butter w^ith fresh, and sell the 
 whole for good ; nor pass off the slack-baked bread 
 upon the stable-boy ; nor dust the pepper ; nor 
 " deacon " the apples. It does not put cotton 
 gathering-threads into the skirt, to succumb on 
 the slightest provocation ; nor content itself with 
 fastening seams at the beginning and the end, 
 trusting to Providence for the security of the in- 
 termediate stao;es. 
 
 The religion that is to sanctify the world pays 
 its debts. It does not borrow money with little or 
 no prospect of repayment, but concealing or gloss- 
 
214 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 ing over the fact. It does not consider that forty 
 cents returned for one hundred cents given is ac- 
 cording to Gospel, though it may be according to 
 law. It looks upon a man who has failed in trade, 
 and who continues to live in luxury, as a thief. It 
 looks upon a man who promises to pay fifty dollars 
 on demand with interest, and who neglects to pay 
 it on demand with or without interest, as a liar. 
 
 I believe more sin has been committed by non- 
 payment or tardy payment of debts than by any 
 heresy that the world ever heard of. The indiffer- 
 ence of some professing Christians on this subject 
 is astonishing. It would seem as if they did not 
 recognize any moral obligation whatever in respect 
 of their debts. There are, of course, many differ- 
 ent classes of non-paying debtors. There are, 
 doubtless, men who take advantage of " the times " 
 to cheat. Under cover of money pressure they 
 stop payment to their creditors when the state of 
 their business does not demand it. They trust 
 that their individual short-comings will be attribut- 
 ed to the universal panic ; and the money which 
 of right belongs to their clerks, or other employes 
 or creditors, is devoted to that interesting tonsorial 
 operation known as " shaving notes." There are 
 others who seem to " fail " systernatically. It is a 
 regular, periodical part of their business arrange- 
 ment, and by long practice they attain a " strange 
 alacrity in sinking." Of such I do not speak. 
 The Spirit of the Lord can probably touch the 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 215 
 
 men who have turned their consciences into a com- 
 mercial barometer, a bank-note detector, and who 
 worship a golden calf; but they certainly present 
 a very discouraging field for human effort. Nor 
 do I refer to those who nobly struggle and bravely 
 fall, — who, in their counting-rooms and over their 
 ledgers, make as heroic a stand and as manly a 
 fight as any Leonidas at Thermopylae, and who 
 fall at last, not through weakness or fear or treach- 
 ery, but overpowered by the inexorable " logic of 
 events." I refer now to you, who are a member, 
 in good and regular standing, of the first or the 
 fiftieth Congregational Church in Boston, or else- 
 where, — you who are liberal in your expenditures, 
 generous in your gifts, kind, genial, popular, and 
 well beloved. You are an excellent man in a gen- 
 eral way, but I have somewhat against you. The 
 hire of the laborer which is of you kept back by 
 fraud, crieth. By fraud ? Yes, by fraud. It is 
 a harsh word, but an honest. You take your fam- 
 ily out to a sleigh-ride, and have never paid the 
 man who mended the sleigh after it was broken in 
 your previous ride. You have no account with 
 him. It was a mere trifle, — a trifle to you, and 
 perhaps a trifle to him ; but the trifle is his, not 
 yours, and you retain it unjustly and unrighteous- 
 ly. He does not like to ask you for the sum, it is 
 so small, and you told him you had not the change 
 at the time, but you would make it all right. Why 
 do you not make it all right ? 
 
216 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 Why do you not, madam, pay the man who has 
 been giving your daughter French and German 
 lessons now these two quarters? He is an exile, 
 a nobleman, a man of education and refinement 
 (though that does not affect the f^act of your in- 
 debtedness). He cannot bring himself to ask you 
 for the money which is justly his due. But his 
 wife and his little boys are to be provided for. 
 His pupils are few, and he can with difficulty make 
 both ends meet even when every link is in the 
 chain ; but when your link is missing, the case is 
 indeed discouraging. Why do you not pay him ? 
 You have not the money by you? But you have 
 everything you need, and a great many things that 
 you do not need. If you cannot afford to pay 
 him, why did you engage him ? Can he afford to 
 give lessons that you cannot afford to buy ? Sell 
 your watch, sell your bracelets, and pay him. 
 Pay him now, if you pay at all. It is his. From 
 the moment the money was due him it was his, 
 and every moment since that time you have been 
 retaining another's property, and you are an ex- 
 tortioner and unjust. It is no matter whether you 
 know that he stands in need of it or not, — or evea 
 whether he does stand in need of it. That is none 
 of your business. You did not engage to pay him 
 so much if he needed it ; but so much. No per- 
 son is so rich that he does not want to be paid 
 what is due him, and when it is due. You have 
 no risht to assume that your creditor is richer than 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 217 
 
 you, or beyond want, and therefore you need not 
 be particular about promptness. You do not know 
 the actual state of the case, and if you did it is 
 nothing to the purpose. Pay what you owe. Did 
 you forget it ? Then go at once and make every- 
 thmg square, beg his pardon, and pray to the Lord, 
 if perhaps the selfish thoughtlessness of your heart 
 may be forgiven you. 
 
 You, high-spirited friend, who are always a vic- 
 tim to the " laws of trade," you are the man. 
 You fancy yourself to be one of those lofty souls 
 who soar above the sordid many. You have no 
 accumulative faculty. You are perpetually in pe- 
 cuniary trouble, simply because you have a proud 
 disdain, a sublime incapacity, for accounts. Your 
 generous indifference is the seal of your genius. 
 Do you know that you are intolerably mean ? 
 Your grand scorn of money brings you into straits, 
 to get out of which you do things which the nar- 
 row-souled, calculating Yankee neighbor, whom 
 you despise, would blush to think of. This is one 
 thing you did. When your friend asked you to get 
 his fifty-dollar check cashed for him at the bank, 
 you did so ; but returned him only forty-five dollars, 
 remarking, in your careless, off-hand, jovial way, 
 that you had " retained a V for commission fee." 
 Here is another thing you did, — borrowed a dollar 
 of your seamstress to pay a little bill that was pre- 
 sented when she was by, and never returned it, — 
 and never will ; and you do not call yourself .mean I 
 
 10 
 
218 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 That generosity which is generous to itself and 
 its family, and forgetful of or unjust to others, is 
 of a very suspicious and exasperating character. 
 One man would like summer drives and holiday 
 journeys as well as another. He would like to 
 dress his children prettily, and give them toys at 
 Christmas, and lighten his wife's labors, and re- 
 lieve the poor, as well as another ; and it cannot 
 be pleasant to him to see the other doing all these 
 fine things, and know the while that that other 
 owes him money which he neglects to pay, and 
 which, paid, would furnish him with more than 
 one of these comforts which he is -now forced to 
 deny himself. And though a sparkling wit, a 
 bright smile, and a ready sympathy may hide or 
 veil the meanness, the meanness is none the less 
 there. Selfishness will not take the trouble to be 
 careful about little things, to deny itself pleasant 
 things, to think of unattractive things, to plan 
 about commonplace things, and so it rides gayly 
 over its own duties, and wickedly lays on others' 
 shoulders the burden which itself will not move 
 ■vvith so much as. one of its fingers. Such high- 
 mindedness " smells to heaven." 
 
 Men and brethren, pay your little debts. If 
 you will cheat, cheat sublimely, like Fowler and 
 Floyd, but do not attempt to ride two horses at 
 once, by sustaining on one side the character of a 
 high-minded Christian citizen, and on the other 
 that of a petty purloiner. 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 219 
 
 There is another sm, near of kin to the forego- 
 ing, which ought to lie more heavily than it does 
 on the conscience of the Church, — not that the 
 Church monopolizes the guilt, but she is stained 
 by it, and deeply stained. I mean the non-fulfil- 
 ment of engagements. You can scarcely offer a 
 grosser insult to a person than to accuse him of 
 falsehood, yet the chances that he will tell a false- 
 hood are fearfully large. Not that society in general 
 is wholly addicted to manufacturing stories " out of 
 whole cloth." A very large proportion will ad- 
 here to facts with tolerable closeness in detailing 
 their observation or experience ; but the number 
 of whom, in making business arrangements, it can 
 be said that their word is as good as their bond, 
 is very small, — if their bond is good enough to 
 be taken without a surety. It might be more 
 gracious, and perhaps more correct, to put it a lit- 
 tle differently, and say that the number of those 
 whose word is not as good as their bond is very 
 large. 
 
 It is strange that the interests of men, apart 
 from moral considei*ations, should not make them 
 more careful to keep their engagements. In some 
 acceptations it is absolutely essential, and in all it 
 must be profitable. The merchant, the railroad 
 conductor, the expressman, the postmaster, would 
 soon find their occupation gone, if they allowed it 
 such " loose ends " as many others do. For ex- 
 ample, your new house is to be ready for you 
 
\./ 
 
 220 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 by Thanksgiving ; but if you get into it by New 
 Year's, you will do well. It is true, unexpect- 
 ed hinderances arise. Contino-encies which the 
 builder could not foresee have prevented its com- 
 pletion, and he is not at fault. But the wonder 
 is that unexpected contingencies arise with such a 
 remarkable regularity that one scarcely expects 
 his house to be done at the time agreed upon. 
 Again, your little boy is anxiously waiting his 
 first pair of boots. By special contract they are 
 to be sent home on Wednesday, so that his half- 
 holiday may be made glorious. But the half- 
 holiday drags drearily by in old shoes, and when 
 the boots will come home " God and the shoe- 
 maker alone know," as a little boy once despair- 
 ingly said, in such a case. Your little daughter's 
 cloak: is to be finished on Friday, to make sure of 
 her having it for Sunday. Saturday morning you 
 call and beg the dress-maker to report progress. 
 It will be ready for you in the afternoon. At 
 seven P. M. you call again, and by waiting two 
 hours in your carriage, on a frosty night, you get 
 it to bring home, with the seams yet rough, and 
 the cape half sewed. The artist who furnishes 
 the illustrations for your monthly magazine sol- 
 emnly affirms that he will have them completed 
 in time for a seasonable issue. By dogging him 
 morning, noon, and night, you get your magazine 
 out a week after the proper time, and after your 
 table is loaded with letters informing you that the 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 221 
 
 writer's Februaiy number has not been received, 
 and begging to know why. You are going down 
 to the annual meeting of the Tract Society to re- 
 port the proceedings for your paper. You meet a 
 friend who says he is going, and offers to report 
 for you. That is the last you hear of him, and 
 your paper goes to press without the report. A 
 load of coal is to be brought on Tuesday, and it 
 comes on Thursday. Your " country cousins " 
 are to visit you " the first of next week," and you 
 are kept at home from a pleasant party by their 
 coming down upon you on Friday. Your friend 
 is to call for you at half past six, and he comes 
 lounging along at seven. 
 
 This is all wrong. A good business character 
 and a good Christian character require that we 
 should meet our engagements. Unnecessary fail- 
 ure is alike unthrifty and sinful. If we are so 
 unfortunately constituted that we cannot recollect 
 our promises, we ought not to make them. Say 
 frankly, " I will do it if I do not forget ; but the 
 chances are that I shall foro-et." Then make an 
 effort to remember. A great deal of our memory, 
 bad and good, has its seat in the heart. Love thy 
 neighbor as thyself, and thou wilt not forget thy 
 neighbor's parcel any sooner than thine own. It 
 is selfishness that miaws holes in our memories. 
 We will not take the trouble to try to remem- 
 ber, and so we cause our friends great incon- 
 venience, and injure our own souls. But many 
 
222 THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 
 
 forget tlieir own affairs with great regularity. 
 They are as great a trouble to themselves as 
 they are to others. To such, one can only recom- 
 mend constant effort to overcome an inconvenient 
 habit, and constant scrupulousness in making en- 
 gagements. Let them always make it clearly 
 understood that they are not to be depended 
 on, and so avoid the appearance of evil. Let 
 tradesmen promise less recklessly. If they have 
 already engaged to finish by Saturday as much 
 work as they can finish, let them not engage to do 
 more. It is both a wrong and a bad policy. If 
 they state their inabihty, the work may go to a 
 rival establishment ; but if they deceive, somebody 
 will be, not only disappointed, but exasperated, and 
 they will have a poor chance of a second job from 
 the same quarter. Extraordinary skill in work- 
 manship can stand such strains awhile, but the 
 conscience suffers irremediably. If a carpenter 
 does not know that, so far as his plans are con- 
 cerned, he can begin a barn on the first of March, 
 let him not engage to begin it then. If it is con- 
 tingent on the completion of another job, let him 
 mention such contingency. The carpenter may 
 lose money, but the man will gain manhood. 
 If it is doubtful whether the tailor can finish the 
 coat in season, let him state the doubt. His 
 neighbor may get the job, but he will keep his 
 word. 
 
 Let the world do as it may, the Church should 
 
THE PROOF OF YOUR LOVE. 223 
 
 free its skirts from sucli sins. If pecuniary inter- 
 ests are not strong enough to keep us in the right 
 path, rehgious interests should be. All these 
 things come within the scope of religion. The 
 Christian name should be a tower of strength. It 
 should stand for probity, integrity, truth, and 
 honor. But the matter rests with us. 
 
 Religion will do for us just what we will it to 
 do, and let it do. If we are content to be 
 furbished for Sundays with an additional coating 
 of respectability ; if, when our names are en- 
 rolled on the church lists, we consider ourselves 
 booked for heaven, with nothing further to do 
 than show our tickets at the stations ; if we look 
 upon religion as something to be adopted, and 
 whose adoption keeps us from going to balls and 
 theatres, reading immoral books, driving and walk- 
 ing on Sunday, and using profane language, then 
 religion will do this for us, and nothing more. 
 But if we stop here, we come sadly short of the 
 glory of God. Stop here we shall, unless we 
 press wdth determined purpose towards the mark 
 for the prize of a higher calling. Religion will 
 not come down into our lives, purifying, refining, 
 softening, elevating, making every day beautiful, 
 every house the gate of heaven, every body a 
 living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto (lod, 
 unless we bring it down. 
 
VIII. 
 
 CONTROVERSIES, 
 
 T is not religion that gets into religious 
 newspapers now and then, and looks 
 and acts so much like slander, spite, 
 hatred, envy, malice, and all uncharita- 
 bleness, that, if we did not know, we should cer- 
 tainly christen it by such names ; nor is it religion 
 that creeps into the churches, and sows seeds of 
 dissension, which spring up and bear fruit a thou- 
 sand-fold, in ex parte councils, seceding cliques, 
 angry minorities, insolent majorities, degrading 
 rivalries, heart-burnings, and jealousies. Exam- 
 ining some issues of the " religious press," and 
 observing the charges and refutations, the crim- 
 inations and recriminations of religious men and 
 religious bodies, one feels constrained to cry out 
 imploringly : 
 
 " Let dogs delig^ht to hark and bite, 
 For God hath made them so ; 
 Let bears and lions growl and fight, 
 For 't is their nature, too : 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 225 
 
 " But children, you should never let 
 Your angry passions rise ; 
 Your little hands were never made 
 To tear each other's eyes." 
 
 The acerbity and violence of religious contro- 
 versies, both in respect of doctrine and of fact, 
 are proverbial, and no wonder ; but should it be 
 so ? Is the thing inevitable ? Is it essential to 
 the preservation of the truth in its purity ? Stag- 
 nant waters are indeed apt to be muddy, but does 
 stirring them up with a pole, necessarily cleanse 
 them? Is it any excuse to allege that religion 
 is of paramount importance, and therefore men 
 ought to understand it right, and therefore, if they 
 will not comprehend it by fair means, they shall 
 by foul, and therefore we will 
 
 " Prove our doctrines Orthodox 
 By apostolic blows and knocks " 1 
 
 Shall a man take his theology as the homesick 
 alligator at the Aquarial Gardens was forced to 
 take his food, — by having it rammed down his 
 throat ? We should scarcely attempt to proselyte 
 our Universalist neighbors by going to the school- 
 house where they are assembled to worship, and 
 breaking the windows. We know very well that 
 those are not the kind of stones in which men 
 look to find sermons. Nor do we consider the 
 Mohammedan method of propagating religion, by 
 fire and sword, as altogether unexceptionable ; 
 yet there are words harder than stone, fiercer than 
 
 10* o 
 
226 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 fire, sharper than a sword, — and we too often 
 use them with unsparing hand, instead of putting 
 on the breastplate of love, and walking in wisdom 
 towards them that are without. 
 
 The worst feature of religious controversies is 
 the undignified, unmanly, and unchristian per- 
 sonalities in which opponents sometimes indulge. 
 Very angry small boys, being afraid to attack the 
 big boys who have roused their indignation, will 
 occasionally take refuge in distance, and find con- 
 solation in " making faces " at the enemy. So 
 we, being unhappily debarred from the privilege 
 of burning our antagonists at the stake, stretch- 
 ing them on the rack, or breaking them on the 
 wheel, betake ourselves to the newspapers, and 
 call names. What good does it do anybody ? 
 We are like children, pounding the stone that 
 made us stumble and fall. Our fists tingle and 
 redden and smart, but the stone bears it with 
 great equanimity. It does not require genius, 
 or wit, or character, or eminent piety, to make and 
 string epithets, though it does require all these to 
 apply them in all cases justly. A bhnd fit of anger 
 will manufacture them in unlimited quantity, and 
 anger is not careful to ascertain whether they fit 
 or not. Personalities, so far from strengthening 
 a cause, almost invariably indicate and increase 
 weakness. Luther did not thrust the table-cloth 
 in the face of his opponent till he had exhausted 
 his arguments. It was the Epicureans and Stoics, 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 227 
 
 standing on the crumbling ruins of an effete su- 
 perstition, that rudely asked, " What will this 
 hahhler say?" but Paul's address to the gay Atlie- 
 nians was a model of high-bred courtesy. His 
 feet were on the Rock of Ages, and he could 
 afford to maintain intact 
 
 " The grand old name of gentleman." 
 
 Nay, even Michael the archangel, when, contend- 
 ing with the Devil, he disputed about the body of 
 Moses, durst not bring a railing accusation, though, 
 if the character of the parties concerned would 
 ever justify it, that would certainly seem to have 
 been the time. In one respect, at least, religious 
 controversialists would do well to copy pohtical. 
 Parliamentary courtesy confines itself to acts. It 
 forbids inquiry into motives. A Kepresentative 
 in Congress, who would not hesitate to accuse his 
 colleague of constructive treason, would by no 
 means yield to the temptation of asserting or in- 
 timating that he had inaugurated a measure, or 
 introduced a bill, or advocated a reform, for the 
 sake of making himself popular at home, and se- 
 curing %^otes at the next election. But theological 
 and ecclesiastical courtesy is less scrupulous, and 
 many disputants rush in where statesmen fear to 
 tread. Motives are attributed with a lavish gener- 
 osity. Facts are asserted to have been suppressed, 
 quotations garbled, insignificant and impromptu 
 or)inions lifted into undue and deceptive^ promi- 
 
228 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 nence, for the sake of making out a case. Yet it 
 can easily be seen that the rule of parliamentary 
 courtesy is based on common-sense grounds, — 
 has its foundations in human nature. We must 
 be ignorant of motives in a great degree. We 
 cannot know, however strongly we may suspect, 
 or however logically we may infer, the reason 
 why a man goes to the right instead of the left. 
 The probabilities are generally so arranged that 
 we can judge with sufficient accuracy for all ordi- 
 nary purposes ; and as things go, we are forced 
 in our daily life to act with reference to motives 
 whose existence we can only assume. Yet when 
 we come to the point, so inexplicable is the human 
 heart, so intricate are its workings, and so momen- 
 tous the issues involved, that etiquette does well 
 to step in and diminish the mischief which Chris- 
 tianity is not allowed to prevent. Surely polite- 
 ness should not be suffered to do for statesmen 
 more than Christianity does for Christians. 
 
 I see no irreverence, but rather an appreciation 
 of the truest, noblest, and holiest meaning of a 
 most ill-used word, in the often quoted lines of 
 the old dramatist Dekker, who, speaking of Christ, 
 
 says: 
 
 " The best of men 
 That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer : 
 A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, 
 The first true gentleman that ever breathed." 
 
 In many of the accusations, concerning both 
 motive anl action, which we bring against our 
 
CONTROVERSIES, 229 
 
 brethren, I do not tliink we can be at heart sin- 
 cere. The allegations are so grievous, that, if we 
 believed them as thoroughly as our statements in- 
 dicate, and as we perhaps think we do, we could 
 hardly help putting on sackcloth and sitting in 
 ashes. 
 
 There is a peculiar liberty wherewith members 
 of Concrress make themselves free. In their de- 
 liberations you shall hear such words as liar, inur- 
 derer, incendiary, assassin, applied with a frequen- 
 cy, pointedness, and enthusiasm very terrifying to 
 Northerners, who have been accustomed to under- 
 stand the word murderer to mean one who has 
 killed a man with malice aforethought ; assassin, 
 one who has murdered in the dark ; liar, one who 
 tells lies ; incendiary, one who sets buildings on 
 fire. If, however, you bring these wordy war- 
 riors to the point, you will find that their words 
 have a certain derived, political, Pickwickian 
 sense, entirely beyond the scope of unpolitical 
 understandings, and are used merely to illustrate 
 an argument, to enforce a principle, and quite 
 probably simply to adorn a tale. Your contempt- 
 ible scoundrel, your black-hearted traitor, is a 
 quiet, respectable man, — a colonel, a lawyer, 
 perhaps even an ex-Governor, — a man who 
 is thought a good deal of by his neighbors and 
 townsmen, whose wife dotes on him, who goes out 
 in broad daylight, unarmed, fearless of pohcemen, 
 and next whom you have yourself sat at dinner> 
 
230 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 chatting agreeably, without a suspicion that his 
 vile soul was insecurely linked to one questionable 
 virtue, and indissolubly riveted to a thousand fear- 
 ful crimes. 
 
 So we sometimes see religious newspapers charg- 
 ing each other with acts which should exclude the 
 perpetrators from the fraternity of honest men ; 
 or, through the medium of religious newspapers, 
 one church, or one fraction of a church, or one 
 ecclesiastical body, or one member of it, accuses 
 another of an act, or a course of action, which, in 
 sober truth, amounts to nothing more or less than 
 obvious, persistent deception, dishonesty, trickery. 
 Though we do not, like our Congressional contem- 
 poraries, speak the names of these various sins and 
 crimes, we just as really attribute them to our breth- 
 ren. Translate out of the language of the church 
 into the language of the world, — substitute in- 
 voices, notes, and stocks for platforms, resolutions, 
 and contributions, — and you have as fine a list 
 of state-prison offences as is often seen outside of 
 a court-room. 
 
 Can such be correct transcripts of facts ? Is it 
 true that a church, or any body corporate, whose 
 very existence as such is professedly to cultivate 
 and disseminate the principles of sound morality 
 and true religion, does fall so far short of the faith 
 delivered to the saints, — does so far forget its 
 origin, and pervert its aims, — as to violate com- 
 mon law and common honesty, and persist in its 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 231 
 
 violation, deliberately, against repeated remon- 
 strances, by slieer force ? Yet we see no convul- 
 sion in the community. Nothing intimates that a 
 great grief is fallen upon Israel. Everybody eats, 
 drinks, and sleeps as usual. The pulpits still stand, 
 and the law and the Gospel are appealed to from 
 that vantage-ground. The sacramental cup Is 
 still raised to devout lips. The gray heads of the 
 culprits still go in and out among the people with 
 no diminishing of honor. No odium is attached to 
 their persons ; no stigma to their names. What 
 a state of thinojs does this arsue ! A whole church 
 plunges into darkness, and the 
 
 " majestic heaven 
 Shines not the less for that one vanished star." 
 
 Can we wonder that the world will not let itself 
 be converted ? To what should it be converted 
 if it were willing ? Would it be an advance for 
 a community that sends its thieves to prison when 
 it catches them, to merge itself in a community that 
 is content to print a few columns of expose on the 
 subject ? If the stream where you wish to drink 
 is muddy, you wiU scarcely find clear waters by 
 descending. You want to go up, not down ; up 
 on the liigh lands, where threads of crystal cleave 
 the gray old rocks, and gather purity from the 
 earth's deep bosom and the sky's clear blue. 
 
 If it is not so, if the acts only appear dishonest 
 because we are looking at one side, why do we 
 not say so, or why do we say anything about it ? 
 
232 CONTROVERSIES. \ 
 
 Every man is to be held Innocent till he is proved | 
 guilty. If there is any stand-point from which we \ 
 can view our opponent's position, and find it not , 
 dishonest, we ought to mention it. We have no J 
 right to look at him from a stand-point, and hold ] 
 him up to view as a criminal, and ignore another, i 
 from which he may be seen as simply mistaken, 
 or deceived, or blameless. Still less have we \ 
 a right to take innocent facts and construct upon I 
 them a guilty hypothesis to suit our foregone con- \ 
 elusion. A right to do it ? It is sin. It is more ■ 
 than murder. It may rob a man of what is more j 
 precious to him than his life. It attempts to take i 
 away from a man what, taken, would leave him j 
 stripped of his manhood, and a man's manhood ' 
 is worth more to him and his friends than his bone i 
 and muscle. I just now heard one Christian man ' 
 say that he did not believe another Christian man 
 would do a certain thing. He had asserted that \ 
 he would do It. He had Induced others to change 
 their course of action by the assertion. He would • 
 defraud scores of people by not doing It. He \ 
 had given, as was confessed, no slightest sign \ 
 that he would not do It. The time appointed 
 for the fulfilment of his engagement was far 
 off. He was a man who, though cordially dis- 
 liked by some, was as cordially loved by others, 
 — a man who stood high In the esteem of Intel- 
 lectual men and eminent Christians. A neglect : 
 to perform his promise would make him what the i 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 233 
 
 4 
 
 world calls a rogue, a swindler, a rascal. Yet 
 lightly, able to assign no single reason, a Christian 
 man could and did imply all this against him. He 
 probably did not mean all this, but his words 
 meant it, and so any uninterested and casual 
 listener could hardly help understanding them to 
 mean. 
 
 A little Incident fell under my notice a few days 
 ago, which may be worth recording, not on its own 
 account, but as an illustration of the way things 
 happen. 
 
 Two women were chatting together of pies, 
 puddings, and preserves, as is the manner of 
 women, and presently fell to comparing notes as 
 to tomatoes, — both were fond of them, — " ex- 
 cellent preserves," — " How much sugar do you 
 use ? " " After all, I like them best raw, sliced, 
 with pepper and vinegar." " Why /never heard 
 of any one's eating them that way." " O, it's very 
 common. Did you have any difficulty in planting 
 them ? " " No, we put them right in with the 
 corn, and had enough for ourselves and all the 
 neighbors." And so on till the topic was exhaust- 
 ed, and then, after a short pause, one of them re- 
 marked, " There 's one thing I don't like, and that 
 is tomatoes ! " The second woman looked up in 
 astonishment, evidently hesitating whether to let 
 it pass or not, but*finally, curiosity prevailing over 
 politeness, she quietly asked, " Pray, what have 
 we just been talking about ? " *' Why, citrons, 
 
234 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 have n't we ? " " /have n't ; you said tomatoes." 
 " Well, I meant citrons, and was thinking of 
 citrons all the time," — and so it passed off with a 
 laugh. 
 
 This slight incident vividly impressed on my 
 mind the danger in which we all are of beincr 
 held responsible for opinions which we never 
 entertained, and of attributing to others false- 
 hoods of which they are entirely innocent. The 
 case in question was one of no importance in 
 itself; but such mistakes are just as likely to be 
 made in cases where passions, prejudices, and in- 
 terests are concerned ; and when the little discov- 
 ery that is to set things right does not happen to 
 be made, one will believe, to his dying day, that 
 the other told a downright lie, and the other will 
 believe just as long, and just as sincerely, that 
 one has circulated a slander. A great many peo- 
 ple would never in this world be convinced that 
 such a mistake could arise — if passions were en- 
 listed on either side. Yet, undoubtedly, a great 
 many of those remarkable things which nobody 
 can explain come about in just as guiltless a way 
 as this. Misunderstandino; is so common a cause 
 of quarrel, that the very word has come to signify 
 a quarrel ; but misunderstanding is not the only 
 cause of misunderstandings. Misstatements make 
 trouble, and are not so easily detected. A little 
 girl, being asked how many chickens she had, 
 answered promptly, " A hundred hens and a hun- 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 235 
 
 dred chickens." Apart from a certain balance 
 and finish of the numbers which do not generally 
 belong to things in this world, and the undue 
 proportion between parents and offspring, which 
 gave an air of intrinsic improbability to the state- 
 ment, it would have passed muster very well ; 
 certainly nothing was further from her design 
 than to tell a lie ; but the hens and chickens 
 that came at call were countless to a child, and 
 hundred was a number expressive to a child's 
 mind of infinity, — so the two infinites were 
 brought together, and a very pretty falsehood set 
 going. Have you never yourself begun a sen- 
 tence, and before you got through forgotten what 
 you were talking about, and, with your mind a 
 thousand miles off, finished it quite at random, 
 and, of course, with utter disregard of truth ? 
 But you are not an habitual liar. You have a 
 very firm behef that you would not tell one wil- 
 ful lie. There are very, very few who have 
 not demonstrated human fallibility with their own 
 mouths. What large-hearted charity, then, should 
 we exercise towards others ! What generous mar- 
 gin should we leave for mistakes and whimsical 
 mental action ! How positive the proof, how over- 
 whelming the presumptive evidence, before we 
 can be prepared to believe evil of men, — espe- 
 cially if we have known them upright ! 
 
 There was great excitement among the children 
 of Israel when the news came that the tribes be- 
 
236 CONTROVERSIES, 
 
 yond Jordan had built an altar and set up for them- 
 selves. It was a secession which could not be tol- 
 erated. God had ordained one altar, and there all 
 offerings must be brought. They remembered 
 how the whole nation had suffered for the sin of 
 one man, when Achan had coveted the accursed 
 thing, and how much more should the defection of 
 two and a half tribes draw down upon them the 
 Divine displeasure ? No, it must not be allowed. 
 The whole cono;regation of the children of Israel 
 gathered themselves together at Shiloh, to go up to 
 war against them. Before proceeding to extremi- 
 ties, however, they appointed a committee, chosen 
 from the first families of the nation, to prepare and 
 present a remonstrance to avert, if possible, the 
 shedding of blood, and bring back the wanderers 
 to the worship of the true God. The delegation 
 departed, came to their brethren, and laid the 
 case before them in terms of spirited and indig- 
 nant remonstrance. " What trespass is this that 
 ye have committed against the God of Israel," 
 urge these Protestants, "• to turn away this day 
 from following the Lord, in that ye have builded 
 you an altar, that ye might rebel this day 
 against the Lord ? " They bring up the mischief 
 that followed the sin of Baal-peor. They insist on 
 the essential oneness of the nation, and the impos- 
 sibility of one part's sinning without all parts suf- 
 fering in consequence. They refer to Achan as 
 example and warning. They offer, in case their 
 
CONTR VERSIES. 237 
 
 brethren are dissatisfied witli their bargain, to gi^'e 
 them possessions among themselves, even at this 
 late day. It is an admirable address. It lacks 
 only one thing. That, however, chances to be 
 the thing on which everything else hinges, name- 
 ly, an inquiry into the facts. The only ground of 
 their action is rumor. " The children of Israel 
 heard say''^ so and so, and, instead of sending to 
 investigate the rumors, assumed the rumors to be 
 true, and sent to punish the sin. It is a wonder, 
 indeed, that they did not fight first, and despatch 
 their messengers afterwards. As it was, this con- 
 ference finished the matter. One word from the 
 supposed offenders quashed the whole proceedings. 
 They repelled the charge with the most impetuous 
 eagerne-ss, and declared that they abhorred such a 
 sin as much as anybody. " The Lord God of gods, 
 the Lord God of gods, he knoweth, and Israel he 
 shall know ; if it be in rebellion, or if in transgres- 
 sion against the Lord, (save us not this day,) that 
 we have built us an altar to turn from followins: 
 the Lord, let the Lord himself require it." They 
 go on to show that, so far from desiring to separate 
 themselves from their brethren, and turn away 
 from the worship of the true God, they have built 
 the altar expressly to keep him and them in remem- 
 brance, to " be a witness between us and you, and 
 our generations after us, that your children may 
 not say to our children in time to come. Ye have 
 no part in the Lord " ; for this altar, the pattern 
 
238 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 of the true altar, should be a perpetual witness 
 of their unity. 
 
 The committee were extremely delighted that 
 the mountain had not brought forth even a mouse. 
 Probably they were too simple even to feel a little 
 crestfallen, as we should almost think they would ; 
 and the children of Israel seem to have received 
 with unmitigated satisfaction the tidings that they 
 had made much ado about nothing, and to have 
 disbanded their forces, and blessed God, and gone 
 home in a very satisfactory frame of mind. 
 
 " And the children of Reuben and the children 
 of Gad called the altar Ed ; for it shall be a wit- 
 ness between us that the Lord is God." 
 
 Guilt, sin, crime, are things so terrible, that we 
 can hardly be too cautious how we ascribe them 
 either to individuals or to corporations. These 
 thino-s are not done in a corner. Smithville and 
 Joneston would each, perhaps, give scarcely more 
 than a vote apiece, if it were to divide its votes 
 equally among the Presidential candidates for the 
 coming election, and whether the Presbyterian 
 Church of Smithville overpowers, overreaches, and 
 swallows up the Congregational Church of Jones- 
 ton, or whether Joneston carries the day over 
 Smithville, is, as a business matter, of little im- 
 portance to the people of the United States ; but 
 we are, or profess to be, the body of Christ, and 
 members in particular. We form ourselves into 
 churches expressly to cultivate and propagate 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 239 
 
 the religion whose rule is love. If we cannot 
 keep ourselves together without wrangling, how 
 can we bind up the world with us in the bundle 
 of life ? How can we strike hands against the 
 enemy, if we fall out and chide and fight among 
 ourselves ? If our religion has not vitality enough 
 to allow us to disagree peacefully, how can it have 
 enough to be aggressive ? What inducement 
 shall the world have to adopt it, if it cannot keep 
 the churches sweet ? 
 
 When we combat a man's opinions, let us be 
 sure that we combat his opinions, and not a 
 garbled mockery of them. We cannot be too 
 careful against misrepresentations. Few things 
 are more exasperating than to see one's views 
 caricatured, and then held up for judgment, and 
 few things are more common in the discussion of 
 opinions. Our Arminian friend alleges that the 
 Calvinist denies free agency, — an absurdity at 
 which the Calvinist would laugh, if it did not in- 
 volve consequences too serious for laughter ; but 
 our Calvinist friend affirms that the Unitarian be- 
 lieves Christ to be a mere man, — an assertion 
 which shocks the pious Unitarian almost as much 
 as it does the pious Trinitarian. You think too 
 many novels will destroy the mind's balance, and 
 your friend replies, " Ah ! you don't believe In 
 cultivating the imagination," — as if you do not 
 approve of raising hay unless you lay your whole 
 farm down to grass. You defend novels, belie v- 
 
240 CONTROVERSIES, 
 
 ing tliem capable of being vehicles of truth, and 
 most potent preachers of righteousness, and are 
 surprised to hear yourself quoted by the inveterate 
 and wholesale devourer of " yellow-covered liter- 
 ature " in defence of his course. You recom- 
 mend travelling to the hollow-eyed student, and 
 are gravely informed that a rolling stone gathers 
 no moss. You hint to your peripatetic friend, 
 that a little closer acquaintance with the philos- 
 ophers would aid him in his profession, and you 
 are met with 
 
 " All work and no play- 
 Makes Jack a dull boy." 
 
 The feehngs awakened are such as would be 
 aroused, if, while you were endeavoring to make 
 parents feel the necessity of pure air, warmer 
 clothing, simpler food, and healthier and more 
 obedient habits for their children, some one should 
 take your boy, and shave his head, and slit his 
 ears, and paint his rosy cheeks blue, and put rings 
 in his nose, and take him around the neighborhood 
 as a specimen of the result of your system of phys- 
 iology. " Here is Mr. Such-a-one's boy ! This 
 is the kind of child his method turns out. This is 
 the system, fellow-citizens, that he wants us to 
 adopt. Can't we do better than this with our 
 present one ? " Do you think you should feel that 
 you had been quite fairly dealt by? But thoughts, 
 opinions, sentiments, are the children of the brain 
 and the heart ; should not their integrity be just 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 241 
 
 as scrupulously respected ? Besides, if you un- 
 dertake to maletreat a child, lie can scream and 
 writhe and kick, and give you a deal of trouble ; 
 but a thought, a sentence, lies passive under your 
 pen-point. You can mar and mutilate and mur- 
 der, and send it out to the world, and silence is its 
 only protest. 
 
 All such misrepresentations must have origi- 
 nated somewhere, and it is difficult to believe 
 tJiat they all arose from sheer misapprehension. 
 While many who repeat them doubtless believe 
 them sincerely, it seems hardly possible but that 
 some have repeated them who do not believe them. 
 Unquestionably many of our Southern brethren 
 really fear that the triumph of Republican princi- 
 ples will inaugurate fire and sword and general 
 ruin ; but is it possible that those who have stood 
 nearest to the Republican party, and had every 
 opportunity to inform themselves of its character, 
 have fallen into such a delusion from want of sim- 
 ple apprehension ? We do not severely blame 
 the masses for not knowing, for such knowledge 
 is with them subordinate, but we do blame the 
 politicians, for it is their business to know. So in 
 theology ; the shoemaker, and the tailor, and the 
 milHner, do not generally — and it is not essential 
 that they should — investigate for themselves the 
 doctrines of the different sects. They derive their 
 impressions largely from their theological teach- 
 ers, and if their impressions are wrong, they are 
 11 p 
 
242 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 scarcely to be blamed. It is the ministers, who 
 are expected to be conversant with such things, — 
 the speakers and writers, who ought to know 
 whereof they affirm before they affirm it, — with 
 whom the blame chiefly rests. It is no fault in a 
 clergyman not to be aware that a gridiron is not a 
 toasting-fork ; nor is it necessarily a fault in his 
 cook to think Universalists and infidels the same 
 thing. Neither is responsible for the knowledge 
 that belongs to the other's department, but igno- 
 rance in his own is a folly and shame to him. 
 Worse still is it to palm off his ignorance upon 
 others for wisdom. It is not only folly, but sin. 
 Educated men have, in the first place, no right to 
 be so narrow-minded. You excuse it in those 
 whose horizon has been limited ; but colleges are 
 built, and tutors appointed, and boys introduced 
 to the wise men of old days and new, for the ex- 
 press purpose of taking broad views, — of becom- 
 ing liberal, catholic, comprehensive. If, however, 
 notwithstanding all this, they are narrow-minded, 
 let them, if possible, keep it to themselves. Do 
 not let them preach their narrowness to others, 
 calling it orthodoxy or piety. It is bad enough 
 for a man to pluck out his eyes. It is worse for 
 him to pretend that he can see, to a man born 
 blind, and so lead him with himself into the ditch. 
 Language is often ambiguous. Misunderstand- 
 ing is often honest. Clear undei^tanding is some- 
 times next to impossible. With the utmost care, 
 
CONTR VERSIES. 243 
 
 and with conscientious intent, we do not always 
 arrive at the undisguised idea. If a man wishes to 
 be stupid, he has every opportunity. If he chooses 
 to beheve that his opponent maintains that black 
 is white, it is altogether probable that he will be 
 able to believe so. But language is not so ambig- 
 uous but that, if we try with sincere purpose and 
 fixed attention to get at what a man means, we 
 shall in the main succeed, — at least enough for 
 all practical purposes. Intelligence is more un- 
 der the control of the will than many suspect. 
 Will to see clearly. Determine to understand 
 quickly and correctly. Make a point of appre- 
 hending other people's views. Be sure you are 
 right before you go ahead. But if we are more 
 intent on proving our own zeal, displaying our own 
 keenness, building up our own cause, than we are 
 at getting at the truth, we shall do harm, — and 
 be verily guilty, not only concerning our brother, 
 but concerning ourselves and God. 
 
 I do not mean to decry religious, theological, or 
 ecclesiastical controversies. They are important 
 elucidators of the truth. In the present state of 
 religious knowledge, and probably for hundreds 
 of years to come, a church without controversy 
 wiU be a church without vitality. It is by sharp 
 collision that the sparks of truth are struck out. 
 Let us deal heavy blows and a good many of them, 
 only let us bring down our sledge-hammers on the 
 anvil where lies the truth that is to be shaped, and 
 
244 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 not aim them at each other's skulls, — which is 
 neither pleasmg to God nor edifying to man, nor 
 favorable to the elimination of truth. 
 
 Let us also give more latitude to the brains of 
 our brethren. We are very apt to attribute dif- 
 ference of opinion to the wrong source. We allot 
 to the heart the responsibility that belongs only to 
 the head. If a man thinks It is right to do what 
 we think it Is wrong to do, we call It self-indul- 
 gence. If he refrains from doing what we allow 
 ourselves to do, we call it austerity. A good 
 many of the rank and file of che Orthodox army, 
 not to say a leader here and there, will hardly 
 admit that Unlversallsts and Unitarians have the 
 glory of God and the welfare of man just as much 
 at heart as have the Orthodox. There are still 
 extant many Congregatlonallsts who can by no 
 means reconcile cards and piety. Christ has some 
 very little ones who think dancing not quite so 
 atrocious as murder in the first degree ; and there 
 are who believe that he that doubteth any of the 
 Five Points or the Thhty-nlne Articles Is about 
 as good as damned. Hear what the Apostle 
 Paul saith : — 
 
 " Who art thou that judgest another man's ser- 
 vant ? To his own master he standeth or falleth. 
 Yea, he shall be holden up ; for God is able to 
 make him stand 
 
 " But why dost thou judge thy brother ? Or 
 why dost thou set at naught thy brother? For 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 245 
 
 we shall all stand before the judgment-seat of 
 
 Christ So, then, every one of us shall give 
 
 account of himself to God. Let us not, there- 
 fore, judge one another any more." 
 
 The Apostle cannot mean that we are to form 
 no opinion of our neighbor, for it is not in the na- 
 ture of things that a man should walk in and out 
 before a community ten, twenty, thirty years, 
 without leaving an impression. 
 
 What, then, does he mean ? 
 
 If we turn to the fourteenth chapter of Romans 
 we shall find that he is talking about difference of 
 opinion in minor matters. One believes that the 
 ritual. Mosaic law is still m force, and he is accord- 
 ingly observant of days and meats. Another be- 
 lieves it to be abrogated, and considers all days 
 alike, and all meats clean ; but the Apostle, with 
 characteristic liberahty, defends both sides. " If 
 you think it is wrong to eat meat, eat it not, 
 only do not call him who does eat, a pagan. If 
 you think it is right to eat it, eat, but do not call 
 him who abstains a stickler. Look somewhat be- 
 hind deeds to motives, and know that in certain 
 regards the truest piety is consistent with opposite 
 beliefs and actions." 
 
 We need Paul's large-hearted wisdom quite as 
 much as did those old Romans. 
 
 Shibboleth is a very good test-word, if you only 
 want to find out whether a man is an Ephraimite ; 
 but it does not help to distinguish between Jew 
 and Gentile. 
 
246 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou 
 shalt be saved," is the simple and succinct theory 
 of the Christian religion. " Pure religion and 
 undefiled before God and the Father is this, to 
 visit the fatherless and the widow in their affliction, 
 and to keep himself unspotted from the world," 
 are the two lines of its practice, — charity and pu- 
 rity. Eighteen hundred years ago a voice was 
 heard crying in the wilderness of Judeea, " Bring 
 forth fruits worthy of repentance " ; and when the 
 people, ignorant, asked, " What shall we do ? " 
 the voice replied, " He that hath tw^o coats, let 
 him impart to him that hath none ; and he that 
 hath meat, let him do likewise." And the publi- 
 cans said, " What shall we do ? " And the voice 
 replied, " Exact no more than that which is ap- 
 pomted you." And the soldiers asked, ''What 
 shall we do ? " And the reply was, " Do vio- 
 lence to no man, neither accuse any falsely ; and 
 be content with your wages." So everywhere 
 throughout the New Testament, shades of doc- 
 trine, forms of worship, are of less account than 
 the deeds of every-day life. In the twelfth chap- 
 ter of Romans we have a beautiful presentation of 
 the sacrifice which is pleasing in the sight of God. 
 There is a sketch, limned by a Divine hand, of a 
 true Christian community. Yet w^e greatly fear 
 that it is a study, and not a portrait. 
 
 Theology, the science of God, is a sublime and 
 infinite thing. Earth serves for a beginning, but 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 247 
 
 eternity can give no end. Yet with incredible 
 self-confidence we lay down our propositions, 
 affirm our belief therein, and drag up our breth- 
 ren to the mark. Now God has revealed to us 
 certain great facts and principles — quite enough 
 for our guidance in this world, quite enough for 
 our entrance into a happier — in letters of living 
 light, which all may read ; but after all, great is 
 the mystery of godliness. The Bible is the per- 
 fect work of an Infinite Being ; but we bring to 
 it the imperfect strength of finite minds. We 
 may study facts and draw inferences, but the- 
 ological science is not susceptible of mathematical 
 demonstration. He who brings to the investi2;a- 
 tion humility, thirst for knowledge, love to God 
 and man, will eventually find the hidden truth, 
 the pearl of great price ; and he who brings 
 haughtiness, a belief full-formed, a prejudiced 
 mind, and seeks only confirmation, will also find 
 what he seeks, — confirmation. Truth will "not 
 unsought be won," nor will she be wooed by proxy. 
 It would have been just as easy for God to reveal 
 everything, as to reveal a part, — to reveal it be- 
 yond the possibility of misconception, as to reveal 
 it as it is. As it is, the best men in all ages have 
 differed regarding some of its teachings ; and this 
 fact indicates that tlie Bible is a part of the 
 machinery of God's .moral government. By the 
 way in which we receive and study it shall our 
 disposition towards him, in part, be judged. Let 
 
248 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 us, therefore, be charitable towards those who 
 differ from us. Original structure, education, 
 surroundings, give to every mind its own indi- 
 viduaHty. Through its own peculiar atmosphere 
 God shines upon every heart. To one, clouds 
 and darkness are round about Him; to another, 
 He dwells " never but in unapproached light." 
 
 All young people who do their own thinking, or 
 any considerable part of it, are liable to be more or 
 less troubled with doubts. They pass through an 
 attack of heresies almost as regularly as through 
 the measles ; in fact, the one bears about the same 
 relation to the soul that the other does to the body ; 
 neither being dangerous, if well treated, both ca- 
 pable of causing the greatest injury if carelessly or 
 ignorantly managed. 
 
 There are two kinds of doubters among the 
 young ; one the bright, active, " smart fellow," 
 who wishes it to be distinctly understood that he 
 is not going to believe that two and two make 
 four simply because his father did. He insists on 
 a demonstration of it to his own satisfaction, and, 
 if you cannot demonstrate it to him, and there is 
 evidence that two and two make five, he will be- 
 lieve that two and two make five, notwithstanding 
 the arithmetics. For that matter, the very fact 
 that all arithmetics have hitherto made and main- 
 tained this assertion, is rather a reason to him why 
 he should not believe it, — at least, it gives him a 
 lively desire not to believe it. He wishes the world 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 249 
 
 and posterity to be aware that his is an original 
 mind, looking at things as they are, and not at 
 thincrs as '' old fogies " see them. His doubts are 
 consequently brought forward promiscuously, pub- 
 licly, on the slightest provocation. It gratifies 
 him to have an opportunity — or to make one — 
 to show the investigating, independent, fearless 
 turn of his mind. Noi that he is not a very fine 
 young person. He may be really promising and 
 superior. It is a more hopeful sign in a young man 
 to be too stirring, than too stagnant. It is natural 
 for old men to err on the side of conservatism, for 
 young, on the side of radicalism ; and it is unnat- 
 ural for them to change places. When college, or 
 contact with men and affairs, has taken the conceit 
 out of our young friend, and the furnace of afilic- 
 tion has purified him, and time has enlarged his 
 vision and matured his judgment, he will be an 
 excellent citizen, one of the pillars of the Church, 
 — if he is but decently well manipulated. 
 
 The second doubter is quieter, graver, more reti- 
 cent. You may live a year with him, and not 
 discover that he does not go along your highway, 
 but strikes out into little by-paths of his own. His 
 differences from your opinion are modestly and 
 hesitatingly spoken, generally unpremeditated, or 
 divulged by accident, or perhaps timidly suggested 
 to you in half-way hints, with a vague hope that 
 you may come to the rescue. They almost sadden 
 him. It is a sacrifice to him to be obliged to go 
 11* 
 
250 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 contrary to the traditions of the elders. He wishes 
 that he could believe implicitly everything which 
 he has been taught. His doubts are real diffi- 
 culties. 
 
 In both these cases, it is of the utmost impor- 
 tance, though for different reasons, that the per- 
 son or persons to whom such doubts are expressed, 
 should not seem nor be shocked, nor startled, nor 
 surprised. In the first place, it is just wliat the 
 first young person wants. Nothing would please 
 him better than to thow a shell into the orthodox 
 camp, and see it burst and scatter the orthodox 
 in all directions. Nothing will take the wind out 
 of his sails more effectually, than to have you 
 go up to his tremendous shell and turn it over, 
 and roll it about playfully, and demonstrate that, 
 after all, it is only a harmless football, — you 
 have seen scores of them in your day, — in fact, 
 patronized them yourself, when you were young. 
 Finding that he does not make a sensation will 
 presently cure him of trying to make sensations, 
 and the desire to make them will die out alto- 
 gether before long. 
 
 It is absolutely essential, however, that you re- 
 ceive the second young person with an unruffled 
 deportment. You are not to be shocked, first, 
 because if you are, you will repulse him, and 
 secondly, because there really is nothing shock- 
 ing about it. The Christian religion is full of 
 mysteries. The Bible is a quarry of truth, in 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 251 
 
 wliich men have been digging for centuries, and 
 have brought up many a massive block, most of 
 which are, as yet, but blocks, irregular and un- 
 couth. Comparatively few have been carved into 
 shapely statues, that can delight the eye and sat- 
 isfy the soul. One looks farther into the future 
 than another. You see the Apollo hidden in the 
 marble, but your young friend sees only a jagged 
 fragment ; and there is nothing that need surprise 
 you in his limited vision. To be shocked, and to 
 let him see that you think him on the high road 
 to Infidelity and Atheism because he cannot look 
 upon this, that, and the other as you do, — because 
 he cannot reconcile seeming discrepancies, nor 
 prevent their troubling him, — is the sure way to 
 drive him headlong into the very slough of Infi- 
 delity. He knows that he is sincerely seeking the 
 truth. He knows that he is not only willmg, but 
 anxious, to believe in the Bible ; and to have you 
 start back in horror at his explorations, and hint 
 of rationalism and free-thinking and shipwreck, 
 not only disgusts him, but has a strong tendency 
 to throw discredit on a Bible which cannot stand 
 the test of sound reasoning and careful inquiry ; 
 tnd so his mole-hills are magnified into mountains 
 of difficulty. To be sure, it is you that are weak 
 in the faith, not the Bible ; but he, as well as 
 many who are older and wiser than he, is very apt 
 to confound a cause with its supporters, and to 
 make the weakness of the latter an indication of 
 
252 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 the weakness of the former. He will, perhaps, 
 never again mention the subject to you, but, kept 
 back in the recesses of his own mind, it will loom 
 up a hideous monster, while, if you had brought 
 it out into the light, it would have roared him as 
 gently as a sucking dove. 
 
 The true way is to receive him kindly, and draw 
 out his thoughts freely and fully. If he has diffi- 
 culties which you can explain thoroughly, explain 
 them, but do not attempt to do so unless, before 
 you begin, you are quite sure that you can finish. 
 An explanation that does not explain, is a thousand 
 times worse than none ; while few things will give 
 him more confidence in himself and you and the 
 Bible than for you frankly to say, *' That point is 
 indeed hard to be understood. I do not fully com- 
 prehend it myself, but it does not trouble me. I 
 have put it aside as one of those things that we 
 know not now, but shall know hereafter." Lay 
 it down at the outset that nobody is responsible for 
 the Bible. Nobody is under bonds to make its 
 different parts adjust themselves. It is God's book, 
 and its harmony is his aifair, not ours. Our busi- 
 ness is to study and practise it. If any one chooses 
 to harmonize Geology and Genesis, or the Law 
 and the Gospel, very well. It will doubtless do 
 much good in the way of removing stumbhng- 
 blocks, and, as a missionary work, is well worth 
 while. But to do it for the Bible's sake, is ab- 
 surd, — and there is a great deal of that sort of 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 253 
 
 tiling done. One would think that the Bible Avas 
 gotten up hj a conspiracy of Christians, who felt 
 bound to sustain it, and that if all its crooked pla- 
 ces were not made straight, it would go by the 
 board. Do not you fall into this mistake with 
 your ingenuous and doubting friend. Let him 
 see that you, for one, believe in the Bible thor- 
 oughly, — believe in its Divine origin and self-sus- 
 taining power, and that it will go on a year or two 
 longer, even if you cannot put everything right. 
 Your confidence will be contamous. He will in- 
 stinctively feel that a cause which gives its friends 
 so little anxiety, must have an inward strength. 
 Teach him also how to take his reckonings, by 
 showing him that our opinions generally are but 
 the balance of probabihties, and that we believe 
 the Bible, notwithstanding its obscurities and ap- 
 parent discrepancies, just as we believe a great 
 many other things, because it is far easier to 
 believe than to disbelieve ; but do not for a mo- 
 ment suppose that you are advancing the cause 
 of truth by denying that it is beset with difficul- 
 ties, or by ridiculing or repelling those who cannot 
 fail to discern them. 
 
 I do not admit that it is of no consequence what 
 a man's behef is, if he is only sincere in it. So far 
 as a man's belief affects his character and conduct, 
 it is of the utmost importance that he believe 
 right, as I shall presently attempt to show ; and a 
 belief that does not affect the character and con- 
 
254 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 duct needs to be looked into at once. There is a 
 definite boundary-line between truth and false- 
 hood, and he who stops short of it, or goes beyond 
 it, is in danger. Particularly in matters that di- 
 rectly pertain to our eternal well-being should we 
 see to it that we do not build on the sand; but 
 this does not justify us in breaking our neighbor's 
 windows, or calling our neighbor hard names every 
 time we see him at the front door, even if he has 
 cjiosen a sand rather than a rock foundation ; and 
 especially is this true if, as is often the case, we 
 have never seen his underpinning, but only know 
 it by hearsay, or inferentially. 
 
 Moreover, it is unquestionably true that the 
 reason why many of us have no doubts, is because 
 we have no thoughts. We hold the truth in our 
 hands. We call it ours. We toss it playfully 
 hither and thither. It is to us an heirloom trans- 
 mitted with the family name ; but we have never 
 penetrated the crust of words, to the idea that lives 
 and glows and throbs beneath ; while our doubt- 
 ing, wavering brother, on whom we look coldly 
 and distrustfully, more earnest and searching than 
 we, has rent off the casings, and the iron has en- 
 tered into his soul, fierce, burning, scarifying. 
 Shall we scorn ? Shall we not rather reverence ? 
 
 For him who speaks flippantly of commonly held 
 beliefs, — who carelessly flings out doubts, and 
 affects indifference or contempt of them, — for the 
 sake of an appearance of greater independence and 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 255 
 
 free-thinking, but who is equally a stranger to 
 conscientious belief and conscientious doubt, one 
 has small sympathy, — yet pity even for him. 
 But for the serious mind, struggling in mists and 
 darkness, thouojh the darkness be his own sins 
 rising up like a cloud between his soul and God, 
 we cannot have too great a liberality, too warm 
 a tenderness. We cannot roll the cloud away, 
 but we can give him a helping hand ; or, if he 
 refuse the proffered hand, we can still pray to 
 Him to whom the darkness and the light are both 
 alike. 
 
 Particularly let us be careful how we bandy epi- 
 thets. Let us beware that we give no opprobrious 
 name to one who, loving God, and striving con- 
 tinually to serve him, is overwhelmed by a host of 
 Satan's legions, — cast down, but not destroyed. 
 Far more justly should we reproach him who, pro- 
 fessing to sit in the full glory of the holy of ho- 
 lies, has only reproach and contumely for those 
 who are still groping in the valley of the shadow 
 of death. 
 
 Standing on the hill-top, bathed in the full splen- 
 dor of God the Creator, of Christ the Sufferer 
 and the Saviour, of the Holy Spirit, the Mediator 
 and Intercessor, our souls are wafted up into the 
 region of faith and rapture, and we shout, exult- 
 ant, " Lord, I believe ! " but down in the valley, 
 among the dry, dead bones, delving in the deep 
 recesses of our own hearts, awed by the evil that 
 
256 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 broods, gloomy and shadowy, over the world, our 
 highest effort is to cry, with tear-streaming eyes 
 and quivering lips, ''Help thou mine unbelief! " 
 
 It is unspeakably pleasant to know that, amid 
 all the clash and clangor, one clear song of victory 
 pours continually up to God. With a thousand 
 hesitations and blunders, with all the bickering of 
 evil passions, there is a steady progress towards 
 the heights of Christian concord. 
 
 " It does move though," was the indignant pro- 
 test of Galileo's unconquered and unconquerable 
 conviction, when Gahleo's timorous lips had weak- 
 ly renounced the new-born truth. Ignorance 
 would have remanded the woi?ld back to its 
 pristine immobility, and swept the sun around 
 it as aforetime ; but the elastic and invincible 
 truth sprang up from beneath the weight of 
 priestcraft and tyranny, and asserted itself in 
 unshorn strength. 
 
 The world does move. All along the road, in 
 the World and in the Church, are way-marks of 
 its progress. Old hypotheses that were the husks 
 of truths or refuges of errors, old hatred that a 
 closer acquaintance has cast oif, old inventions that 
 were but the first essays of genius, scattered broad- 
 cast, mark its grand, triumphal march. Retro- 
 gressions there are, and weary wanderings in 
 wildernesses, and many a sluggish halt, but the 
 Lord has spoken to the children of men, and they 
 go forward. 
 
CONTR VERSIES. 257 
 
 Some thirty or forty years before a star guided 
 the wise men to the cradle of the baby- Christ, there 
 was living in Rome a gay, generous young gen- 
 tleman, whose name is still held in pleasant re- 
 membrance. Possessed of an ample fortune, a 
 part of the year was spent in town, and a part in 
 the retirement of his Sabine farm ; but whether 
 amid the gayeties of the metropolis, or by the 
 murmur of the Bandusian spring, or at the fre- 
 quented baths of Baiae on the shore of the many- 
 sounding sea, his wit, his education, his accom- 
 plishments, and his elegance drew around him 
 the most fashionable, intellectual, and cultivated 
 society of Italy ; and to this day he keeps his place 
 in the front rank of lyric poets. 
 
 Yet this scholar and gentleman, so polished, so 
 refined, on the occasion of the departure to Greece 
 of a gentleman whom he perhaps justly disliked, 
 published a poem in which he begged the winds 
 to remember to lash the sides of his foe's ship with 
 frightful waves, to snap his ropes and break his 
 oars, and hide with cloud every friendly star. He 
 gloats over the fruitless toil of that foe's sailors, the 
 deadly pallor of his face, and his unmanly wail- 
 ings and prayers for succor, and closes by vowing 
 a thank-offering to the gods, if the man shall per- 
 ish shipwrecked on a hostile shore ! And nobody 
 seems to have taken exception to it. Suppose 
 Longfellow, or Lowell, or Whittier, should write 
 such a poem to a political or personal enemy, 
 
258 CONTROVERSIES. 
 
 what measure would tliey receive from " our best 
 society"? 
 
 Sixteen hundred years later, Milton, a man 
 whose fame no words can illustrate, in his po- 
 litical controversies indulged in a fierceness and 
 coarseness of invective, which are banished now 
 to the very purlieus of civilization. In his answer 
 to Salmasius, epithets of opprobrium and scorn are 
 heaped up page after page. " So little," he says, 
 " do we fear, you slug you, any war or danger 
 through your silly rhetoric." " You, in the mean 
 time, you silly loggerhead, deserve to have your 
 bones well thrashed with a fool's staff." " Meddle 
 with your own matters, you runagate, and be 
 ashamed of your actions, since the Church is 
 ashamed of you." " Speak out, you wretch, and 
 never mince the matter." " And when they have 
 been an (Edipus to you, by my consent you shall 
 be a Sphinx to them in good earnest, and throw 
 yourself headlong from some precipice or other, 
 and break your neck." " I am weary of mention- 
 ing your lies, and ashamed of them." " You im- 
 pudent liar, what mortal ever heard this whimsy 
 before you invented it?" "You rascal, was it 
 not for this that you, a renegade grammarian, were 
 so forward to intermeddle ? " "I think that the 
 best course you can take will be, for this long book 
 that you have writ, to take a halter and make 
 one long letter of yourself" And this silly log- 
 gerhead, and runagate, and rascal, and liar, was 
 
CONTROVERSIES. 259 
 
 no malefactor, but Salmasius of Leyden, generally 
 accounted the first scholar of his age. We have 
 sharp political and theological controversies now, 
 but nothing equal to this. The world does move. 
 What was Piccadilly then, is Billingsgate now. 
 The leaven has worked, refining our language, 
 softening our manners, and, may we not say ? 
 elevating our hearts. 
 
IX. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 YOUNG lady once remarked, that 
 she should like to be a Christian, but 
 she did not think she could give up 
 balls. 
 
 This is an indication of the reason why many do 
 not set about becoming Christians. They draw a 
 line. On one side is rehgion ; on the other side 
 happiness. If they take religion, they take safety 
 for the next world, but a cheerless kind of happi- 
 ness for the remainder of this. If they take hap- 
 piness, they take a gay, pleasant, agreeable life 
 for this world, but run a risk for the next. A 
 bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and 
 they, naturally enough, decide to make sure of 
 this life at any rate, and sufficient unto the next 
 life are the evils thereof. They do not know much 
 about that future w^orld, but they do know the 
 present. They will keep what they get, and get 
 what they can ; and in a measure they are right. 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 261 
 
 Certain present happiness is better than uncertain 
 future happiness. It stands to reason that the 
 present, actual world, the world we were born into, 
 the world we are now living in, is the world with 
 which we are chiefly concerned. The future 
 world will have its own conditions, its own duties ; 
 but they will not devolve upon us till we get 
 through with this. It is our business to do the 
 duties of this world, and it is our right to enjoy 
 its pleasures. I, for one, should very much mis- 
 trust any man who should put heaven's work in 
 place of earth's work ; or who should promise 
 happiness in the next world only at the sacrifice 
 of happiness in this. 
 
 But it is not so. These people make a mistake. 
 The beauty of true, Evangelical, Gospel religion 
 — of Christ-religion — is that it is a religion for 
 this world, — this busy, gay, social, active, living, 
 present world. Not that it is confined to this. 
 By no means. It lights up the dim aisles of the 
 past and of the future, revealing to us all we know 
 of the glory that has been, and promising us a 
 glory yet to be revealed, such as eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, nor heart of man conceived. Glo- 
 rious things it speaks to us for our comfort ; — of a 
 golden city, clear as crystal, unto which the kings 
 of the earth shall bring their glory and their hon- 
 or ; of many mansions prepared for us therein by 
 the Lord of light ; of a life into which shall no 
 more enter anything that defileth, nor any sorrow, 
 
262 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 or crying, or pain, or death. All this it promises 
 us for an incitement, and the loss of all this for a 
 warning ; yet its present, its great, I had almost 
 said its chief value, is not in the future, but in 
 what it is doing for us every day. It is of inesti- 
 mable price in this life, as well as in that which is 
 to come. It is good for us in this world, even if 
 there were no other. The virtues which it enjoins 
 fit us not only for heaven, but for earth. They 
 are not only pure, but profitable. They are due 
 not only to Chi'istianity, but to humanity. What- 
 ever a man ought to do because he is a Chris- 
 tian, he ought to do because he is a man. What- 
 ever wrongs his Christianity wrongs his manhood. 
 Everything that is unchristian is impolitic. Sin is 
 not only sinful. But it does not pay. Any act that 
 transgresses God's moral law is a poor business 
 calculation. Whatever increases a man's value 
 in the Church, increases his value in the World. 
 The better the Christian, the better the citizen. 
 In proportion as bankers and brokers and mer- 
 chants become true Christians, will business be put 
 on a sure footing. Christian principles are the 
 best possible basis for a business character. 
 
 So with the happiness of religion. It will take 
 us to heaven, but we shall not have to wait till we 
 get to heaven before we get any pleasure out of it. 
 It pays as it goes. It is a comfort and a blessing 
 all the way along. It is the one pleasure that 
 never fails, that brings no after-pains. If it dis- 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 263 
 
 places old joys, it brings in new and better ones to 
 fill their places. It is the very fountain of happi- 
 ness, — not only spreading out into a placid lake 
 at our journey's end, — a sea of glass mingled 
 with fire, whereon they that have gotten the vic- 
 tory shall stand with the harps of God, — but all 
 the way through the wilderness its waters break 
 out, and its streams in the desert, so that even the 
 parched ground becomes a pool, and the thirsty 
 land springs of water. It is eminently and pre- 
 eminently the religion of now. 
 
 But all this cannot, of course, be known by those 
 who have not tasted that the Lord is gracious. 
 They cannot forget those things that are behind, 
 because they do not see in their true light tlie 
 things which are before, and there is no beauty for 
 them to desire. In all such cases two courses may 
 be pursued. We may say, " You then love amuse- 
 ment better than life. You will sacrifice heaven 
 to an evening's enjoyment. You will barter an 
 eternity of bliss for a lifetime of uncertain and cer- 
 tainly fleeting pleasures. You will take gayety in 
 exchange for your soul. Here is the choice : here, 
 worldly pleasures ; there, heavenly. Choose this 
 day whether you will serve the god of this world, 
 or the God of all worlds." 
 
 This may be the wise course, but I do not think 
 it is. The opportunity of choice is of no vahie 
 unless we are acquainted with the character of 
 th® things to be chosen. Solomon's wisdom and 
 
264 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 Enoch's goodness would be of small service when 
 your little boy comes to you with his hands behind 
 him, and says, " Which will you have, the right, 
 or the left ? " In asking a person to choose be- 
 tween earthly and heavenly pleasures, you ask him 
 to choose between what he knows and what he 
 does not know. You ask him to give up some- 
 thing which he knows he likes, for something which 
 he not only does not know that he likes, but rather 
 thinks he does not like. Is it altogether to be 
 expected that he will do it ? It is of no use to 
 say that worldly pleasures, so called, are not real 
 pleasures ; because it is not true. They are real. 
 There is pleasure in dancing, gambhng, and horse- 
 racing, — in fine clothes, theatres, and wine sup- 
 pers. Every one who has tried it knows there is 
 pleasure in it, and when you say there is not, you 
 contradict the facts of his consciousness. Think a 
 moment, — if there were no pleasure in it, why do 
 so many do it ? Nobody ever cut off his hand for 
 the pleasure of the thing. Nobody ever drank a 
 friend's health in assafoetida. True such life does 
 not bring the highest kind of happiness, but neither 
 do ripe pears, nor tight roofs, nor well-tilled farms, 
 nor well-ordered houses ; yet we do not despise 
 them on that account, much less condemn them. 
 A great deal that goes to make life comfortable 
 springs from inferior sources. We cannot afford 
 to slight the brook that ripples through our garden, 
 because it was not born amid the snow-crested 
 
AAIU:bEMEXTS. 265 
 
 summits of the Rocky Mountains. True such pleas- 
 ures may be dearly paid for in wasted time, ruined 
 health, and shattered souls ; but footing up bills is 
 a quite different matter from ininning up bills. It 
 does not come till afterwards, and may be very 
 disagreeable without preventing the other from 
 being just the opposite. Moreover, there are 
 many worldly pleasures which are not offset by 
 palpable, immediate disadvantages, and many more 
 that have no disadvantages to affect them, — being 
 not only harmless, but in their place useful. The 
 man who has a pleasant home, a lucrative busi- 
 ness, and the respect of his fellows, and who thinks 
 he is enjoying himself, will hardly credit you when 
 you inform him that he is not. Knowing nothing 
 of that higher happiness which you hold up to 
 him, and not having yet weighed his own in the 
 balance to find it wanting, it is not entirely illogi- 
 cal that he should be contented as he is. 
 
 The trouble is, that you have precipitated the 
 issue. Issues are always to be avoided, notwith- 
 standing the fact that many, brought face to face 
 with such issues, do choose the right to their ever- 
 lasting joy ; but laws are instituted for the pro- 
 tection of the weak, not of the strong. The feast 
 which the Lord blessed was given to the poor, the 
 maimed, the lame, and the blind. The test, the 
 trial which strengthens one man, will kill another. 
 Through thy knowledge shall thy weak brother 
 perish for whom Christ died ? When ye sin so 
 
 12 
 
266 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 against thy brethren, and wound their weak con- 
 science, ye sin against Christ. A wise parent will 
 not plunge his child into a hand-to-hand conflict 
 with disobedience, if he can help it. If the child 
 is peevish and unhappy, and tending to insubordi- 
 nation, he will not immediately launch a com- 
 mand, though the command itself may be reason- 
 able, and eminently fit to be obeyed. He will 
 endeavor to soothe, to lead the troubled mind away 
 from its troubles ; and when placidity is restored, 
 and the little face is clothed with sunshine, the 
 command will be cheerfully obeyed. Civilians, 
 whose knowledge of battles is derived from Sallust 
 and Gibbon, will be rampant for war, when expe- 
 rienced generals, who have seen fighting, who have 
 been in the trenches, and heard the balls whistling 
 around them, will be strenuous advocates of pacific 
 measures. But though an issue is to be shunned, 
 it is not to be shirked. By just as much as it is 
 to be avoided, by just so much is it to be bravely 
 met when it is unavoidable. 
 
 The old proverb says, " The Devil is old, and 
 therefore knows many things," and if there is 
 any one thing which he knows better than any 
 other, it is human nature. Concerning God and 
 the indwelling life and might of righteousness, he 
 is short-sighted ; but how to mix truth and false- 
 hood in such proportions that man shall accept 
 it, how to combine truth enough to lull suspicion 
 with falsehood enough to destroy the soul, he 
 
.U^USEMEXTS. 267 
 
 knows to a charm. He is as well acquainted with 
 the laws of mind as we, and understands their 
 bearings, and how to use them for his o\^ti pur- 
 poses, a great deal better than we. He knows that, 
 if men could clearly see what life with religion in 
 it is, they would choose it rather than life without 
 religion ; but this they cannot do, because religion 
 is of such a nature that one must possess it him- 
 self in order to get at any adequate conception of 
 its worth. He knows further, that if he can get 
 men to think they see the two, and to make choice 
 upon such vision, it will be a strong point gained. 
 To this end he holds up a nondescript article, — 
 something that has no existence in heaven, but is 
 of the earth, earthy, and of the Devil, devilish ; 
 something that is cold and negative and repulsive. 
 That he calls religion, and asks them to choose 
 that instead of their warm, sensuous, and real, if 
 short-lived pleasures ; knowing all the while — the 
 cunning schemer — that they will do nothing of 
 the sort. " Choose religion," he says, " religion 
 that will destroy all your pleasures, and give you 
 up body and soul to church-going, and psalm-sing- 
 ing, and prayer-meetings, and tract-societies, and 
 general solemnity." For this is undoubtedly what 
 rehgion means to a vast multitude of people, and 
 this invitation, recollect, he addresses to men who 
 have not yet got hold of the secret life which dwells 
 in church and psalm, wherever they are vital, and 
 to whom, therefore, psalms and hymns are but 
 
268 AMUSEMEIS^TS. 
 
 sounding brass and tinkling cymbals. But little 
 cares he whether they understand the terms of the 
 bargain or not. Little cares he whether they know 
 what they reject or not, so long as he knows jvhat 
 they accept. It is his aim to get them to turn 
 away from God and cling to himself, and it is not 
 in his nature to hold back, from conscientious scru- 
 ples, when a little deception would serve his pur- 
 pose. If he can make his proposal through the 
 lips of some worthy and devout man, so that his 
 victims shall not for a moment suspect that there 
 is any cheating going on, so much the better. 
 
 There is another, and I think a more excellent 
 way. Remembering that the person whom you 
 are addressing is, as yet, totally unacquainted with 
 the joys of religion, and knows it chiefly, if not 
 wholly, by its duties and immunities, and even that 
 but partially, — remembering also that a true idea 
 is the very best lever with which to pry up a false 
 idea, — would it not be better to dwell less upon the 
 pleasures that are to be given up, and more upon 
 those that are to be acquired, — to insist not so 
 much that the longino; soul shall abandon the leeks 
 and onions of Egypt, as to set before him the milk 
 and honey of the promised land ? Why not say to 
 the gay girl who finds the ball-room an obstacle in 
 the way to Christ, " Leave that question alone. Do 
 not trouble yourself about it. Let it settle itself. 
 The point now is to give your heart to God. You 
 acknowledge that you owe allegiance to him. All 
 
AMUSEMENTS. ' 269 
 
 that any Christian wants, or has any right to want 
 of you, is that you should pay what you owe. In 
 order to do this, look not upon the world which 
 you fear to leave, hut the God to whom you 
 wish to go, — a God ready to pardon, forgiving 
 iniquity, transgression, and sin, though he will by 
 no means clear the guilty, -^ a God who is clothed 
 with majesty, yet whose name is love, — a King 
 omnipotent, yet a Father all-compassionate, — on 
 whose side ranging yourself, you will be on the side 
 of goodness, truth, right, against wickedness, false- 
 hood, and oj^pression, — whose presence is fulness 
 of joy, at whose right hand are pleasures forever- 
 more, — whom having not seen we love, in whom 
 only believing we rejoice with joy unspeakable 
 and full of glory, and whom when we see we 
 shall be like, changed into the same image from 
 glory to glory." 
 
 From glory to glory, — such are the Christian's 
 stepping-stones. Show them to those whose feet 
 are almost gone. Show them that the religion of 
 the Bible is not a religion of gloom and coldness 
 and forlorn hopes and last resources, — a religion 
 to be chosen as the least of two evils, — a rehgion 
 for poor people and consumptive people and mel- 
 ancholy people, for sea-voyages and steam-car- 
 riages and thunder-storms ; but a rehgion full, rich, 
 vigorous, rounding itself to the most exuberant 
 nature, adapted to the most active life, capable of 
 filling the warmest heart, — a religion whose key- 
 
270 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 note is love, whose banner over us is love, whose 
 precept is to rejoice evermore. Demonstrate to 
 them that there is not only righteousness, but peace 
 and joy, in the Holy Ghost. Set Christ before 
 them, the chief among ten thousand, the one alto- 
 gether lovely. Bid them lay hold of his goodness, 
 clothe themselves in his strength, his beautiful 
 garments of purity and holiness and benevolence 
 and beneficence, and be called by his new name. 
 Shall we, then, leave out of sight the sacrifices 
 which God requires ? Shall we hide the cross 
 beneath the crown till we have got people se- 
 curely into the Church, and then turn upon them 
 and bid them relinquish their former pleasures 
 upon pain of an evil name and public disfavor, and 
 so lay ourselves open to a prosecution for obtain- 
 ing converts under false pretences ? Or shall they 
 indeed continue their dissipations and unworthy 
 amusements as things with which God is w^ell 
 pleased ? Shall they serve God and mammon ? 
 Nay, verily. Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, 
 and him only shalt thou serve. But having once 
 put a soul en rai^port with its Maker, — having, as 
 far as in us lay, restored the broken links of the 
 chain that bound it to the Father, — we leave it to 
 make the reconciliation complete, the consecration 
 entire. Specific duty is a matter between every 
 soul and its God. If a man has really become a 
 child of God, God's will will henceforth be the rul- 
 ing principle of his life. He will desire nothing so 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 271 
 
 mucli as to find out what God wishes him to do, 
 and then to do it. Loving God whom he hath not 
 seen, he will love his brother whom he hath seen. 
 He will no longer seek only his own, but his neigh- 
 bor's good. Self will be deposed from the first 
 place in his heart, and God will reign supreme. 
 The dethroned monarch may set on foot many a 
 rebellion, and the kingdom may, for a long time, 
 have but little quiet, but the end will surely be 
 peace, and he shall come whose right it is to reign. 
 Balls and operas and gaming-houses, all the pleas- 
 ures which the Christian world agrees in con- 
 demning, and all the pleasures wdiich some con- 
 demn, and some connive at, and some justify, will 
 appear before him in new lights as the sun of right- 
 eousness arises. He may not at first see every- 
 thing in its real aspect. The glamour falls but 
 slowly from his eyes, arid men appear to him but 
 as trees walking. He will need thought and read- 
 ing and prayer, and the constant exercise of his 
 reason. Christian counsel may cast away some of 
 the stumbling-blocks from his path, but his own 
 hand chiefly must lay the axe at the root of the 
 trees ; and never fear but that he will eventually 
 make straight in the desert of his soul a highway 
 for the Son of God. 
 
 As for w^orldly pleasures, they will adjust them- 
 selves. Those which come between him and God 
 it will be no sacrifice to relinquish, for he will have 
 lost all relish for them. Those that do not thus 
 
272 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 interfere, he need not relinquish at all. If he finds 
 that certain exercises leave him listless, indisposed 
 to action, unable to cope with the adversary, he 
 will instinctively shun them. Others that recre- 
 ate him from, and fit him for, the severer duties 
 of life, he will continue, — doing God service by 
 strengthening his soul for work. He will fall off 
 naturally fi:om wrong amusements ; he will not be 
 torn reluctantly away from them. Whatever 
 force is to be exerted will be exerted by his own 
 free will, not by any external power. From 
 what he sees to be deleterious, it will be a joy 
 to shake himself fi-ee. He is not to do anything 
 because it would be consistent, or refi'ain from 
 doing anything because it would be inconsistent. 
 The greatest villain in the world may lead a per- 
 fectly consistent life. It is absurd to do some- 
 thing to-day, because we did or said something 
 last year. We are older to-day than we were 
 last year, and our views should be broader. Last 
 year we may have been wrong. Let us to-day 
 be right. Let the dead bury their dead ; let us 
 be concerned only to follow Jesus. We are to 
 stop away from the gaming-table, not because we 
 are church-members, but because we are men. 
 If it is not harmfiil for men to gamble, it is not 
 harmful for church-members. If it does not harm 
 a girl to go to balls before she joins the church, 
 it does not harm her afterwards. If dancing is 
 good for her womanhood, it is good for her Chris- 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 273 
 
 tianitj. TliB Bible forbids to the Christian no 
 pleasure which is beneficial to the human being. 
 Christianity is simply the very highest state of 
 manhood. Indulgences that are injurious are in- 
 jurious because they keep a man below his proper 
 level, not because he has signed a certain paper or 
 made a certain agreement. Drunkenness is wrong 
 because it debases the image of God, not because 
 it violates a pledge. Lust and avarice would en- 
 foul the soul if Christ had never died. 
 
 In a most thoughtful, elegant, and Christian 
 book, I lately read, " The sober Christian may 
 possibly feel a shock in finding Novalis describe 
 his faith as a foe to art, to science, even to en- 
 joyment; yet does not his own daily experience 
 prove that the holding of the one thing needful 
 involves the letting go of many things lovely and 
 desirable, and that in thought as well as in action 
 he must go on ' ever narrowing his w^ay, avoiding 
 
 mucyr' 
 
 To all which I say emphatically, no ! The hold- 
 ing of the one thing needful does not Involve the 
 letting go of anything really lovely and desirable. 
 It not only makes it more lovely and more de- 
 sirable, but more worthy of love and desire, and 
 therefore more worthy to be retained. Every 
 pleasure, every pursuit, which w^as simply inno- 
 cent, puts on a new nature when the soul is fired 
 with religious fervor, and guided by religious prin- 
 ciple, and becomes religious. Christianity acts 
 
 12* E 
 
274 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 upon the occupations and recreations of life like a 
 magnet upon iron-filings. Its strong current pours 
 over the shapeless, incoherent dust, and sweeps the 
 particles to their polar spheres. There is no longer 
 listlessness and chaos. Every atom knows its 
 place, and bends in unhesitating obedience to this 
 new motive power ; so order is evoked from dis- 
 order. But pleasures, in becoming duties, do not 
 cease to be pleasures. Eating and drinking to the 
 glory of God is not only more beneficial, but more 
 delightful, than eating and drinking to gluttony 
 and drunkenness. Ambition, saturated with be- 
 nevolence, and consecrated to God, not only brings 
 forth fruit just as nutritive and just as plenteous, 
 but a richer and more delicious fruit. Wisdom's 
 ways are ways not only of profit, but of pleasant- 
 ness. Religion organizes and symmetrizes life, but 
 cramps nothing, annihilates nothing. 
 
 So it is impossible to believe with the same au- 
 thor, that " the rule of Christ is not only exclusive, 
 but restrictive, and .... we need not look far into 
 either literature or art to see to how many of their 
 happiest energies this rule opposes itself." I be- 
 lieve that the rule of Christ, so far from opposing a 
 single happy energy of literature or art, strength- 
 ens, .mobilizes, purifies, and vivifies them all. 
 There is not a faculty, nor a power of the human 
 soul, which is not utilized by being brought under 
 the control of religion. They find their true 
 sphere and scope only when Christ takes the lead, 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 275 
 
 and trains all the faculties to heavenly purposes. 
 The servants of sin never develop their inborn 
 power till they become the servants of righteous- 
 ness. We need to rid ourselves of the idea that 
 Christianity is something extrinsic, — an after- 
 thought put in after the man v^as finished, — a kind 
 of free pass to heaven. We need to bear always 
 in mind that it is rather the completion of an other- 
 wise imperfect organization. It is the restoration 
 of man to his original integrity. Without it he is 
 only half made up. Religion does not naturalize a 
 foreigner, but reinstate an heir. It does not take 
 a man out of his hereditary place, and introduce 
 him to one that is higher indeed, and safer, but 
 unnatural. Religion is a rebinding of the soul to 
 God, from whom it had cut loose. It is a restora- 
 tion of the soul to its primal proximity to the Di- 
 vine. There has been a fall. God made man 
 upright. The Devil cast him down, he consenting. 
 Christ seeks to set him once more erect, and when 
 man, leaning on that strong arm, begins to lift 
 himself out of the sloughs of sin, it is not a hand 
 or a foot or a faculty that is lifted, but the whole 
 man. Reason, judgment, imagination, wit, all 
 gather themselves up from the miry clay, and be- 
 gin to v/ash their robes and make them white in 
 the blood of the Lamb. Everything that was no- 
 ble is still farther ennobled. Everything that was 
 ignoble enters upon a process of disintegration and 
 destruction. A religion that should repress the 
 
276 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 energies of the soul would, from that circumstance 
 alone, be suspicious. Religion broadens, height- 
 ens, deepens. It enlarges the domains of joy, 
 and contracts the realms of sorrow. It robs grief 
 of its sting, and gives zest and flavor to happiness. 
 It turns calmness into dehght, and content becomes 
 exultation. Singing, writing, painting, planning, 
 whatever ministered to ambition, pride, avarice, or 
 any of the numerous retinue of selfishness, are 
 wrenched away from the usurper, and marshalled, 
 with acclamation, into the service of Christ. The 
 author, further on, uses most just, judicious, and 
 wise words in illustration of this, though they seem 
 to contradict her former statements. " Such a life 
 will seem less spiritual only because it has grown 
 more natural ; the soul moves in an atmosphere 
 which of itself brings it into contact with all great 
 and enduring things, and it has only to draw in its 
 breath to be filled and satisfied. I know not how 
 to describe the grandeur and simplicity of the state 
 that is no longer self-bounded, self-referring ; how 
 great a thing to such a freed and rejoicing spirit 
 the life in Christ Jesus seems." 
 
 Nor can we believe that " the print of the Mas- 
 ter's footsteps, if tracked with any degree of faith- 
 fulness, will [necessarily] carry his own far out of 
 the path of pleasure and distinction, and leave him 
 amid scenes and among objects in which, save for 
 this powerful attraction, he would have found 
 nothing to delight in or to desire." God is not the 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 277 
 
 God of the poor, the ignorant, the obscure, any 
 more than he is of the rich, the learned, the dis- 
 tinguished. Christians are harder on this class 
 than is Christ. We can follow his footsteps to the 
 house of the Pharisee as well as of the publican. 
 Paul, the gentleman, the scholar, the aristocrat, 
 was not one whit behind the very chiefest of the 
 fishermen. The adaptation of Christianity to the 
 poor is brought out in the Bible with great force, 
 because that phase of it is the one most likely to 
 be hidden, and needs therefore to be held up to 
 continual prominence. But including the lowly is 
 not excluding the lofty. They that have riches 
 shall enter hardly, but they shall enter — through 
 Christ. We cannot serve God and mammon, but 
 we shall not serve God by giving up to mammon 
 the kingdom wherewith we have been intrusted, 
 and running away into the shelter of a monastery, 
 or a nunnery, or a clique. " Occupy till I come," 
 was his command. We must keep in the world, 
 overcoming it, not overcome by it, — turning to 
 Christ's service all pleasure, all distinction, all in- 
 tellect, all wealth, — despoiling mammon of his 
 treasures and adorning with them the temple of 
 God. That which has been is not that which 
 shall be. Behold, the former things are come to 
 pass, and new things do I declare. The pomp 
 and riches and glory of this world have been used 
 to illustrate the reign of Satan, but another day 
 shall dawn, to whose light the Gentiles shall come, 
 
278 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 and kings to the brightness of its rising, — he shall 
 come whose right it is to reign. Glorious in his 
 apparel, travelHng in the greatness of his strength, 
 all that is beautiful and grand and mighty shall go 
 out to meet him. All the kingdoms of the earth 
 shall swell his triumphal train, yea, even the earth 
 herself shall be a crown of glory in the hand of 
 the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of our 
 God. 
 
 That, therefore, is but a flimsy and suspicious 
 kind of religion that works from without, inward ; 
 that keeps a man away from sinful pleasures, but 
 does not keep him from wanting to go ; that sub- 
 stitutes external restraints for internal promptings. 
 It is probably better that a man should stop away 
 from the gambling-houses because he is a church- 
 member, than not to stop away at all. It is better 
 that a woman should remain at home and go to 
 bed at a seasonable hour, from fear of being called 
 inconsistent, than that she should spend the night 
 in dancing and wine-sipping. But if they look 
 after the forbidden fruit with longing eyes, and 
 wish the Church did not forbid them to pluck it, 
 their religion cannot be anything worth mention- 
 ing. It certainly cannot be very comfortable. 
 So far as its requirements are concerned, they 
 might as well go as wish to go. Christ wants vol- 
 untary contribution, not forced taxation. I heard 
 of a man once, who, when reproached for going 
 to a pic-nic soon after his wife died, excused him- 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 279 
 
 self by saying that he asked his wife's mother if 
 she had any objection, and she said she had n't ! 
 Such love is not worth much In the wear and 
 tear of life. 
 
 Therefore, also, the sacrifices which Christian- 
 ity requires at the hands of its adherents are few 
 and small. Literally speaking, it requires none, 
 since It demands nothing that the noblest man- 
 hood does not demand ; but even in the ordi- 
 nary acceptation of the term, Its sacrifices are not 
 worthy to be compared with Its privileges. The 
 followers of Christ sometimes make requisitions 
 which Christ himself does not. In blindness of 
 mind they call that common and unclean which 
 God hath cleansed, and insist that it be cast out 
 and trodden under foot. An old lady, speaking 
 of a merry young girl who had lately joined the 
 church, said : " Yes, I think she is a Christian. 
 I think there is a change, but Betsey will be 
 Betsey." Of course she will. Did ^Christ ever 
 require her to be anybody else ? But we, pruri- 
 ent meddlers, rushing in where angels fear to 
 tread, — we Insist that the gay Betseys shall be 
 transformed into sedate Susans, which Is just as 
 unnatural, un scriptural, and impossible as that the 
 sedate Susans shall effervesce into gay Betseys. 
 A great deal of the trouble arises fi'om a miscon- 
 ception of the nature and ends of amusements. 
 There are those who think them a gross waste, if 
 not a misuse, of time. There are many more who 
 
280 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 think anything like framing, planning, and arrang- 
 ing for amusements to be a frivolous occupation, 
 unworthy of a Christian, and indicative of a shal- 
 low, worldly mind. It takes away the • attention 
 from serious and important things, and fixes it on 
 those which are short-lived and trivial. So the 
 case was stated in a discourse by a learned, elo- 
 quent, and exemplary man, from none more than 
 from whom should one expect sound reasoning 
 and Gospel truth. He took, as he had a right to 
 take, high ground. He looked upon the question 
 of amusements in its relations to sin, — to man as 
 a sinner. " Here is a world lying in sin," was his 
 argument, — " estranged from God, and under his 
 wrath and curse. What mockery to God for 
 Christians to be planning amusements for such a 
 world ! " But this view of the subject, solemn as 
 it is, is far-reaching and comprehensive. It em- 
 braces, not the amusements only, but the occupa- 
 tions of life. ^ It is whether the attention of Chris- 
 tians shall be given to any other matters than those 
 which pertain directly to the salvation of sinners. 
 It is whether Christian men shall give their time 
 and money to the construction of an ocean tele- 
 graph, while yet the day is far distant that shall 
 echo from pole to pole the glad tidings of a Sav- 
 iour's love. It is whether men shall build rail- 
 roads and steamboats, while millions upon millions 
 are rushing down the broad way that leads to de- 
 struction. It is whether they shall erect pubhc 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 281 
 
 baths, providing for the cleanhness of the body, 
 while the soul is a sepulchre full of dead men's 
 bones and all uncleanness. It is whether they 
 shall feed the hungry and clothe the naked, while 
 so many are perishing for want of the heavenly 
 manna and the robe of Christ's righteousness. It 
 is, in short, whether men shall buy and sell and 
 get gain, so long as any remain out of the ark of 
 Christ. 
 
 It is useless to say that these, and other such 
 schemes and occupations, have in view the health, 
 life, or convenience of man, and are therefore es- 
 sential, or at least useful and important. That 
 is the very assertion made by those who believe 
 it to be a Christian duty to provide amusements, 
 and places the question at once on a different 
 basis. They put amusements on precisely the 
 same plane as professions and occupations. They 
 say, and justly, that we must take men as they are, 
 not as they might be, or as w^e should think best to 
 have them. He who would benefit his kind must 
 proceed on the premises God has given, not on 
 hypothetical ones of his own. He must take Into 
 account that " all men are born babies," and for 
 the most part stay babies all their lives, in a great- 
 er or less degree. The child is not only the father 
 of the man, but he Is the man in large measure. 
 The earth is one great school-house, and men and 
 women are the boys and girls, grown up Indeed, 
 but boys and girls still. Sometimes they are im- 
 
282 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 proveraents on their juvenile selves. The passions 
 have come more under control ; the gentler affec- 
 tions have been cultivated ; the mind has been 
 nourished and trained ; but too often a flimsy cov- 
 ering of false . politeness is thrown over radical 
 defects. Mokanna's silver veil is used to hide 
 features too hideous to be plainly revealed,»but 
 which often show through in spite of Mokanna. 
 Self-will has become obstinacy ; zeal has become 
 bigotry ; lazy shirking has become positive chi- 
 canery. The average man is no better than he 
 should be. 
 
 This is not a flattering picture. I would gladly 
 be proved to be in the wrong, for the sake of be- 
 lieving that it is not a true one. But calling a 
 man an angel does not make him an angel ; and 
 whether we do or do not believe in total depravity, 
 we do not, as a general thing, lend our neighbor a 
 hundred dollars without taking his note for it. A 
 very able political newspaper remarks : " We have 
 nothing to say of Original Sin as a theologic dog- 
 ma ; but in politics it is as solid as the multiplica- 
 tion-table." The first step in curing disease is to 
 find out what the disease is. The first point in 
 solving a problem is to have it correctly stated. 
 Here we all agree that the disease is sin ; the 
 problem is to evolve from moral chaos a world of 
 symmetry and beauty. 
 
 An old writer says, that he considers nothing 
 human to be foreign to himself. If a heathen 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 283 
 
 could saj this, so much more ought we to say it. 
 "Whatever concerns humanity concerns vis all. 
 Man is a triune being. He has a physical, intel- 
 lectual, and moral nature. These are truisms, 
 but it seems necessary that they should be stated, 
 because we are apt to forget tliem, or to act as if 
 we did not know them. Man's physical nature 
 just as much needs to be provided for as his in- 
 tellectual nature, and his intellectual as his moral 
 nature, and vice versa. Each has its inalienable 
 rights. No one is to be subordinated or sacrificed 
 to the other. The claim of no one is paramount. 
 It is just as wicked to cheat the body out of its 
 just dues as it is to cheat the soul, and the soul as 
 the body. The body has just as good claims to 
 consideration as the mind, and the mind as the 
 heart, and the heart as either of the others. The 
 body is just as necessary to the soul as the soul to 
 the body. Neither can exist in its present state 
 without the other. Both can exist separate, but it 
 will be no longer the same personality. The seces- 
 sion of either dissolves the union. The secession 
 of both does nothing more. 
 
 This compUcates matters. If a man existed 
 in a state of pure intellect, he could be far more 
 easily managed. It would be a comparatively sim- 
 ple thing to minister to the mind diseased, if it 
 were not so mixed up with the body. But man 
 does not exist in a state of pure intellect, but of 
 intellect, and carbon, lime, and water. You cannot 
 
284 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 lay your hand on a susceptibility of his soul that is 
 not, or may not be, influenced by the susceptibili- 
 ties of his body. All the emotions of his body so 
 bear on the emotions of his soul, that it is often 
 difficult to tell what is body and what is soul. 
 He, then, who provides for the fullest symmet- 
 rical development of every bodily power, is so far 
 fulfilhng the chief end of man, according to the 
 Westminster Catechism, though he that stops there 
 stops short of the glory of God. It is, therefore, 
 no more mockery to God to plan amusements, than 
 to plan employments, because the former have, 
 though perhaps a humbler, yet certainly just as 
 important a place in the Divine economy. The 
 nature and extent of man's amusements have just 
 •as much bearing on his immortal nature, as the 
 nature and extent of his work. Amusements are 
 just as necessary to his spiritual development as 
 work or worship. Right amusements are just as 
 beneficial to him as wrong amusements are delete- 
 rious. They do not directly tend to repentance or 
 growth in grace, neither does work ; but as God is 
 uniformly to be found in the way of duty, recrea- 
 tion being duty, he may be truly and acceptably 
 served in recreation. 
 
 The question narrows itself down to this. To 
 give attention to so-called secular pursuits is wrong, 
 or it is not. If it is, the habits of the Christian 
 world must undergo a vast change. If it is not, 
 amusements, in their selection and arrangement, 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 285 
 
 are entitled to tlie same kind of interest and atten- 
 tion as occupations. 
 
 A religious newspaper tells a story of a young 
 man who " became anxious about his soul. He 
 resolved to call on a- minister and ask his counsel. 
 .... He found the minister standing in animated, 
 not to say light conversation, with a couple of 
 visitors, and arranging with them a visit to a gen- 
 tleman in the country, who had a private ninepin- 
 alley. The impression on the mind of the young 
 man was very unhappy ; he could not open his 
 mind to the minister, and he retired without hav- 
 ing derived any benefit from the interview. He, 
 erelong, became a careless, and, in the end, an 
 abandoned sinner." 
 
 Moral of the religious new^spaper : " Things in 
 themselves harmless are to be avoided, if they 
 cause others to offend." 
 
 Moral of ordinary observers : ministers must not 
 engage in animated, particularly in light conversa- 
 tion, and must not visit gentlemen who keep bowl- 
 ing-alleys. 
 
 But do you really mean, religious newspaper, 
 that ministers are to be uniformly grave and seri- 
 ous ? Does it not occur to you that the clergymen 
 who are never light must be extremely heavy ? Is 
 not the gravity of a man who is always grave nearly 
 as worthless as the levity of a man who is always 
 light ? Did not the Rev. Rowland Hill say that 
 the man who is not a fool half the time is a fool 
 
286 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 all the time ? Is not too much nutritlveness just 
 as bad a quality of food as too little, and did you 
 never hear of people eating sawdust to restore the 
 balance ? What kind of a picture would that be 
 which was all shadows, and no lights, and what 
 kind of people are they who would blot out the 
 lights of the landscapes ? It is the Edmund 
 Sparklers of society, you may be sure, who w^ant 
 men *' with no nonsense about them." Did you 
 ever hear a high-souled, whole-hearted, clear- 
 brained, large-minded, cultivated Christian object 
 to " animated conversation," not to say ninepins ? 
 And wdiat kind of conversation would you 
 recommend between a minister and his chance 
 visitors ? Shall he inchoate a treatise on politi- 
 cal economy ? Shall he entertain them with 
 the differential calculus ? Shall he chat of fixed 
 fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute ? Do you 
 not very well know that, if you should make a 
 friendly call upon your pastor, and he should 
 take you up in this way, you would be exceeding- 
 ly tired ? Do you not, you who have so much to 
 do with ministers, — do you not know that many 
 v^ho are the very salt of the earth, first in every 
 good word and w^ork, are the many-sided men, — 
 the men who touch life at many points, — the men 
 of quick sympathies, who joy with the joyous, and 
 sorrow^ with the sorrowful, — who neither laugh 
 nor weep from a sense of duty, but because they 
 cannot help it ? Are you not now thinking of 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 287 
 
 individuals, tender of heart, strong of will, sound 
 of mind, pure of purpose, who are as full of mirth 
 as a nut is of meat ? and would you have them 
 abate one jot or tittle of that beautiful radiance 
 that gleams over the sui'face of their lives, and 
 lights up the dark paths around them, and so 
 makes " a sunshine in a shady place," because — 
 Because what ? Put the case as strongly as you 
 can. Bring in St. Paul, as you certainly wall. '* If 
 meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no 
 meat while the world standeth, lest I make my 
 brother to offend." Grant them to be parallel 
 cases, — which they are not, for if St. Paul did 
 deny himself the meat which had been offered to 
 idols, he could get plenty more which had not, 
 whereas our ministers are warned off from the 
 whole thing, — but granting them to be parallel, 
 — suppose by abstaining you make a great many 
 more to offend than you do by partaking, what 
 then ? If a minister is himself, changing his 
 moods according to his occupations, " from grave 
 to gay, from lively to severe," he may, and prob- 
 ably will, run counter to some men's ideal of a 
 minister, and so lose influence in certain quarters. 
 But, on the other hand, if he puts a restraint on 
 himself, checks the natural flow of his spirits, and 
 flats out into a dead level of (falsely so called) 
 dignity, he will, it seems to me, run counter to a 
 great many more ideals, and lose a great deal 
 more influence. He will practically give in to 
 
288 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 the notion — I cannot dignify it with any higher 
 name — that when men become ministers they 
 cease to be men. They turn into a kind of or- 
 ganic abstraction, a peripatetic sermon, — some- 
 thing that may lawfully eat, drink, and sleep, but 
 not clap, jest, or vote. But why ministers should 
 unman themselves any more than doctors, or law- 
 yers, or farmers, it is difficult to perceive. If 
 it is right for lawyers to enjoy a joke, and to 
 make one if they can, why is it not right for min- 
 isters ? Every man is responsible for all the good 
 "w^hich he is capable of doing, — no more, no less. 
 A lawyer is bound to fulfil every duty which de- 
 volves upon him. Angels can no more. The 
 greatest good is to be done by employing every 
 faculty in doing to its utmost relative extent. 
 God gave us none that is superfluous, none that 
 must be lopped off before we can serve him ac- 
 ceptably. He does not demand the sacrifice of 
 any, but the consecration of every power. If we 
 find people maintaining the contrary, we ought to 
 disabuse them of so mischievous an idea, — not 
 shape our course as if it were a correct one. We 
 do not accept the rules of action which a worldly 
 man adopts for himself; why should we those 
 which he adopts for others ? If he is not trust- 
 worthy to guide his own life, he certamly is not 
 trustworthy to guide ours. What absurdity is it 
 for me to check my natural and innocent gayety, 
 because a man who has never begun to shape his 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 289 
 
 own life by Gospel precepts, and has never im- 
 bibed the Gospel spirit, sets up the idea that such 
 gayety is inconsistent with religion ? 'Why is my 
 liberty judged of another man's conscience, espe- 
 cially when that conscience is an unenlightened 
 one ? If we do not give a man credence when 
 he justifies his own course, why should we when 
 he condemns ours ? What kind of a rule is that 
 wdiich works only one way ? What kind of evi- 
 dence is that which is invalid against one man, 
 but valid against another ? 
 
 It is partly the fault of the Christian world, that 
 the young man referred to went away disappoint- 
 ed. " Public opinion " should not be allowed to 
 fall into such an error as that sprightly conver- 
 sation should seem to be incompatible with the 
 warmest piety. If the young man had been 
 properly educated, he would have known that 
 the minister could sympathize with his sadness 
 none the less for having just sympathized with 
 gladness. Nay, he w^ould have considered it 
 rather an indication of real sympathy. It is a 
 little sentimental, but a very true saying, that 
 
 " Hearts that vibrate sweetest pleasure 
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe." 
 
 The soul that easily lays hold on joy lays easily 
 
 hold on sorrow. Though the minister was not 
 
 one to whom he could open his mind, it was not 
 
 owing to the " animated conversation," nor to the 
 
 bowling-alley, whatever he may have thought. 
 
290 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 The minister may have been a frivolous, impious 
 man, a cumberer of the ground, a blind guide, a 
 shepherd whose sheep looked up and were not 
 fed ; but that did not indicate it. The greatest 
 gravity of demeanor may coexist with the weakest 
 character and the pettiest ends ; and of all fri- 
 volity, solemn frivolity is the most repulsive. It 
 not only pains, but exasperates. One is not only 
 annoyed by the littleness, but indignant at the 
 deception. Good sense is a good thing, and good 
 nonsense is a good thing, but nonsense setting up 
 to be sense is outrageous. 
 
 What punishment is severe enough for him 
 who would curtail " animated conversation " ? 
 Who of us that has been dragged through weary 
 hours of " stale, flat, and unprofitable " common- 
 placeness would not have welcomed the advent of 
 any one, man or woman, who could have stirred 
 ■us up with a little animation, even though it 
 had been transferred bodily from the rhymes and 
 chimes of Mother Goose ? Who of us that has 
 ever known the genial glow and happiness which 
 a royal mind brings when, leaving its cares, which 
 never are burdens, leaving its matters of state, 
 leaving all the insignia of its royalty, it comes 
 into the drawing-room of daily life, and draws 
 around it all grace and gladness, and sportive 
 fancy, and happy love, and wild winsomeness, by 
 a spontaneous outgush of the same blessed and 
 blessing qualities, — who that has ever basked in 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 291 
 
 the sunshine of such a presence, but must feel an 
 uprising of wrath against that prurient piety which 
 dares so much as lay a finger on the hem of its 
 beautiful garments ? 
 
 O the mischief that is done by this wanton, 
 wilful, wicked endeavor to curtail the sources of 
 happiness which our Creator has given us ! to dig 
 up and destroy the fair growths whose roots go 
 deep down into our nature ! It is a Sisyphean task. 
 It never can be done ; for it is a crime against na- 
 ture, and nature breaks out in perpetual protest. 
 Its evil effects are everywhere visible. Young 
 people, unnaturally restrained, grow stunted and 
 narrow, or burst out into a license which is but 
 the travesty of liberty. The Word of God is 
 brought to bear on objects which do not come 
 within its range. The anathemas which are per- 
 tinent only to guilt are launched on innocence, 
 and moral distinctions are subverted. Look at 
 dancing, — one of the most healthful, the most 
 civil, the most delightful, and the most beautiful of 
 amusements, — singularly adapted to the vitality, 
 activity, and high spirits of the young, and greatly 
 conducive to ease of manner, grace of carriage, 
 and suavity of address ; yet put under ban by 
 whole communities, on the most frivolous pre- 
 texts. Some honestly think it wrong. Why ? 
 Not in its essence, — nobody thinks it is wrong 
 in itself, — but because ''it leads to dissipation." 
 But it does not lead to dissipation. It leads away 
 
292 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 from dissipation. There is wliist, — a game that 
 can find employment for the closest attention, the 
 minutest observation, the strongest memory, and 
 the soundest reasoning, yet of so wide a sweep 
 that it can interest and delight a child of ten. 
 Whole communities look upon this, too, as a 
 snare of the Devil to entrap souls. Why ? Not 
 because it is wrong of itself, but "it leads to 
 gambling." But it does not lead to gambling. 
 It leads away from gambling. Let a family of 
 children have an hour, or two, or three, in the 
 evening, devoted to social amusement, and if they 
 have all been working during the day, as they 
 ought, this is none too much. Suppose them to 
 engage in dancing. Some one goes to the piano, 
 and the ' rest — father, mother, and all — take the 
 floor. Occasionally their young friends are in- 
 vited in to spend the evening, or such portion of 
 it as they are allowed before sleep. Occasionally 
 they spend the evening out, generally accompa- 
 nied by father or mother, or both. Perhaps the 
 little ones sit down with their parents to a game 
 of whist, — the very youngest very eager to play 
 his very best, that he may have a chance to play 
 again. The evenings are varied ; sometimes it is 
 checkers, or backgammon, or blind man's buff, or 
 singing, or reading aloud, but every evening has 
 in its bosom something pleasant for the children 
 to look forward to, and back upon. The home is 
 a little community, with its round of happiness as 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 293 
 
 well as of tasks ; will dissipation be likely to in- 
 vade such a home ? The haunts of vice are the 
 haunts of restlessness, uneasiness, unhappiness ; 
 what attractions have they for one who can find 
 all their pleasures without their pains around his 
 own hearth-stone ? Examine statistics, and see 
 how many of the patrons and victims of gambling- 
 saloons were accustomed in their youth to play 
 cards around the evening table, and to dance be- 
 fore the evening fire, with fathers and mothers 
 who loved them and prayed for them and watched 
 ^ over them. 
 
 Christians are verily guilty in this matter. Mul- 
 titudes believe and avow that dancing is not wrong, 
 but they will not countenance it because many do 
 think it wrong, and the many who do think it 
 wrong think it not wrong in itself, but dangerous 
 in its associations and tendencies. It is an amuse- 
 ment in which the World indulges, and therefore 
 the Church must give it up. Absurd ! Let Chris- 
 tian families adopt it, not covertly, apologetically, 
 as many do, but honestly and openly, and its as- 
 sociations will very soon come round right. An 
 innocent thing will not long be held disreputable 
 after reputable people have taken it up. No mat- 
 ter if the World does talk about a " dancing 
 Church" and a "card-playing Christian." The 
 World does not decide questions of right and wrong 
 for the Church, nor shall the World monopohze the 
 best of anything. Let the World understand that 
 
294 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 tlie Church is not to be fended off from any occu- 
 pation or amusement that she judges wholesome, 
 because the World chooses to hoist the red flag 
 of disease. Let the Church do a thinoj because it 
 is right, not because the World will pat it on the 
 shoulder, and say, " Good child, good child." Let 
 the Church abstain from an act because it is wrong, 
 not because, if she does it, the World will say, 
 " Behold, thou art become as one of us." It is 
 disgraceful bondage, — an insult to Christ. His 
 cause does not want the patronage of the World. 
 If it cannot stand on its own intrinsic value, let 
 it fall at once. Moreover, the Christianity that 
 can be distinguished from worldliness only by its 
 acceptance or rejection of dancing, is a very in- 
 significant article. Let your light so shine before 
 men, that they, seeing your good works, may 
 glorify your Father which is in heaven. Be so 
 humble, so devout, so sincere, so honest, so help- 
 ful, so faithful a Christian, that the World, the 
 flesh, and the Devil shall say, " Dancing cannot be 
 wrong, for he dances." You can hardly read your 
 title clear to mansions in the skies, you can have 
 hardly begun to live the Divine life, if men say, 
 " He cannot be much of a Christian, for he 
 dances." 
 
 I acknowledge that the amusements in question 
 have dangerous tendencies, but I should like to 
 know if there is anything in the world that has 
 not. They lead to dissipation and gambling; so 
 
AMUSEMENTS, 295 
 
 eating leads to dyspepsia, and drinking leads to 
 drunkenness, and a great many things lead to a 
 great many others. But because men have been 
 drowned in the sea, shall we never step into a 
 bath-tub ? Because a house is burned down, shall 
 we never build a fire in the kitchen-stove ? Be- 
 cause some people tell lies, shall other people not 
 talk at all ? Because one man has the heart-burn, 
 and another delirium tremens, shall there be no 
 more cakes and coffee? Nay, verily. This is 
 not God's way of procedure. He gave Adam and 
 Eve permission and desire to eat freely of every 
 tree in the garden, with one exception, and that 
 exception was within easy reach. He might have 
 saved them and us from sin and suffering by pla- 
 cing all fruit beyond their reach, but he chose not. 
 With a full knowledge that his gift would be 
 abused, he yet did not witlihold it. In like man- 
 ner, he has given us all things richly to enjoy. 
 We may abuse them, turning enjoymient into a 
 sin, but that is not the fault of the giver or of the 
 gift. The remedy for the abuse of a thing is not 
 to destroy it, but to use it. Destruction should 
 be reserved only for what is in itself wicked or 
 useless. The remedy for dyspepsia is pure air, 
 wholesome food, thorough mastication and saliva- 
 tion, regular and sufficient exercise, steady occu- 
 pation, and ease of mind, — not starvation. Star- 
 vation is indeed a remedy, but it is a fearfully 
 expensive one, and the dwarfed and misshapen 
 
296 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 natures of many of our young people, and old' 
 people too, show how fatally injudicious is the 
 policy pursued in their cultivation. Amusements 
 they must have, — pure, wholesome, lawful, grace- 
 ful if you will ; but if you will not, then impure, 
 ruinous, disgraceful. 
 
 There is great disagreement of opinion and 
 practice in the churches. There are many com- 
 munities in which dancing is as innocent as kite- 
 flying, and a great deal more common. There 
 are many Christian families in which whist is an 
 acknowledged and ordinary recreation. This fact 
 should have its influence. It should lead those 
 who disapprove to be modest. When any num- 
 ber of men, whose intelligence is respectable, and 
 whose Christian character is unexceptionable, do 
 something of which you disapprove, but which 
 even you do not regard as a sin in itself, it becomes 
 you to be measured in your disapproval. Because 
 your friend is as good and as sensible as you, it 
 does not follow that he is in the right and you in 
 the wrong ; but it does follow that there is so 
 much basis for his differing opinion, that he need 
 not be a knave or a fool for holding it. Because 
 a dozen churches allow dancing, it does not follow 
 that it is right, and your church must go to dan- 
 cing forthwith ; but it does follow that the oppo- 
 sition to your views is sufficiently respectable to 
 suggest the possibility that you may be wrong; 
 and there is a possibility, at least, that such oppo- 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 297 
 
 sition is founded on a need of nature, and not on 
 total depravity. And another thing follows : when 
 whole communities in a city hold such opinions, 
 sporadic cases in villages should be treated with 
 at least respect. It is hardly fair to hunt a man 
 down for believing, in a country church, what 
 scores and scores believe and practise in a city 
 church, without the smallest remark, or even no- 
 tice, from anybody. When there are two sides 
 to a thing, and a man tells you he thinks it is 
 right to take that side, you have nothing further 
 to do. You may give him your own views as 
 forcibly as you please, you may strive to enlighten 
 his conscience by every means in your power, but 
 you may not attempt to coerce him by any of 
 those petty persecutions which you have so well 
 at command. You can do it. If you are both by 
 birth and education narrow-minded, it is not at 
 all improbable that you will do it, and a good deal 
 of mischief into the bargain ; but it will be the 
 old Adam in you, and not the new, that will get 
 the commission. 
 
 Let no man despise amusements. It is a subject 
 which demands the most careful consideration. 
 It should be just as truly a part of the Church 
 economy as the sacraments. Mistakes here keep 
 people out of the Church, and wound weak con- 
 sciences, and confuse weak brains, and prevent 
 growth of grace in the Church. Let our Christian- 
 ity be comprehensive, symmetrical, well-developed. 
 
 13* 
 
298 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 Let our young people bring all their bounding 
 spirits, all the dew and freshness and gladness 
 of their youth, to the Lord, — assuredly knowing 
 that they are made in the very image of God ; 
 that their mirthfulness came from him just as 
 much as their memories ; that the ringing laugh 
 and the merry song, in their proper place, are ac- 
 ceptable to him, as well as the broken and contrite 
 heart, and the fervent and effectual prayer, in its 
 place. The Church wants all the elasticity, and 
 cheerfulness, and sprightliness, and wdt, and humor, 
 that there is in the world, whether it belongs to 
 the young people or the old, and will find plenty 
 of work for it to do. God is not the God of the 
 dead, but of the living ; not of the sorrowful only, 
 but of the rejoicing. Feasting and fasting can 
 and should be done alike to his glory. Jesus was 
 present not only at the tomb in Bethany, but at 
 the marriage in Cana. I know no reason why he 
 should not be present at merry-makings now, as 
 well as eighteen hundred years ago. He is the 
 same yesterday and to-day and forever. He does 
 not afflict the children of men because he likes to 
 do it. He rejoices in all innocent happiness. The 
 boy need not abate one jot or tittle of his love for 
 play, because of his love for God. The sudden 
 upspringing of the one, does not necessitate the 
 decrease of the other. The Christian ought, all 
 other things befeig equal, to be in school the 
 closest student ; on the play-ground, the hardest 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 299 
 
 player ; in the workshop, the nicest workman ; 
 behind the counter, the most valuable clerk ; in 
 the battle, the sturdiest fighter. Whatsoever 
 things are true, whatsoever things are honest, 
 whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are 
 pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever 
 things are of good report, — all, all belong to 
 Christianity. 
 
 Christ spoke the simple, literal truth, when he 
 said that his yoke was easy, and his burden light. 
 When the followers of Christ had to follow him to 
 the rack, the stake, and the scaffold, to stripes, 
 to the mouths of lions, to trials of cruel mockings 
 and scourgings, to bonds and imprisonment, there 
 was reason to speak of sacrifices. But, reluctant 
 as we may be to confess it, the lines have fallen to 
 us in pleasant places. The cup which our Father 
 hath given us is sweet, as well as healthful, and 
 it is no mysterious and hidden love which says, 
 " Drink ye all of it." 
 
X. 
 
 GOD'S WAY. 
 
 ND seeing the multitudes, he went up 
 
 into a mountain : and when he was set, 
 
 his disciples came unto him. And he 
 
 opened his mouth, and taught them, 
 
 saying, 
 
 '^Blessed " 
 
 *' Blessed^^'' — fit beginning of the first recorded 
 public discourse of Him whose life on earth was 
 the blessing of the world. 
 
 In following those sacred feet over the hills of 
 Judaea, we see that their constant errand was one 
 of love. It was not alone that great, mysterious 
 love wherewith he loved us before the world was, 
 but the steadfast, human love, the love of the 
 man-Christ, the tendern'^ss which displayed itself 
 constantly in every-day life, — which no coldness 
 could chill, no stupidity tire, no perversity lessen, 
 — a tenderness which it should be our strongest 
 purpose to imitate, as it is our highest privilege to 
 share- 
 
GOD'S WAY. 301 
 
 And the common people heard him gladly. 
 Great multitudes followed him. Populous Galilee, 
 stranger Decapolis, Jerusalem, queen city of Ju- 
 daea, and the Pagan countries that lay beyond 
 Jordan, poured out their ipyriads to listen to the 
 words of one who spake as never man spake. 
 From lanes and alleys, from the purlieus of pov- 
 erty and vice, from the Ann Streets, the Five 
 Points, the St. Giles's of Palestine they came, the 
 poor, famishing people, overborne in the great 
 world-battle, over-weary with laboring up the Dif- 
 ficult hills ; the obscure, ignorant, sad-eyed people, 
 with whom life had been but a losing game, who, 
 through weakness and wickedness had made little 
 headway, — they came flocking around this new 
 light whose soft shining had glimmered down even 
 to them. They brought their sick to this wonderful 
 Jesus, whom a vague rumor called the Christ, and 
 he healed them. They brought their little chil- 
 dren, and he laid loving hands upon their drooping 
 heads, and blessed them. Strange words of cheer 
 fell upon their sorrowful hearts, — tender, consol- 
 ing, hopeful, helpful words. " That ye may be 
 the children of your Father which is in heaven." 
 Poor and miserable and blind and naked, — de- 
 spised of the great ones of the earth, domineered 
 over by the chief priests and Pharisees, could they 
 be the children of the Lord of heaven ? How 
 sweetly on their anxious, care-worn hearts fall the 
 affectionate words, " Take no thought for the mor- 
 
302 GOnS WAY. 
 
 row. Your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye 
 have need of all these things." There are strong 
 men standing before him, faint with the burden 
 and heat of the day, and his loving heart bids 
 them " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are 
 heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." There is 
 comfort and help for all. None are sent empty 
 away. None are so insignificant that he passes 
 them by. No service is so lowly that he will not 
 glorify it. Only a cup of cold water to the least 
 of these little ones shall have its reward, — shall be 
 laid to the account of the Kinp; of kings. None 
 are so great, so rich, so renowned, that he bids 
 them trust to their greatness, their riches, their 
 renown. When they come to him in trouble, he 
 takes them just as readily to the arms of his lov- 
 ing-kindness. The outcast, loathsome leper feels 
 a wild hope leap up in his heart, yet dares not ask 
 the boon he craves, but, bowing, humbly worships 
 the omnipotent Teacher. "Lord, if thou wilt, 
 thou canst make me clean." " I will ; be thou 
 clean," is the instant response, and at one gentle 
 touch the leper arises a new man. The ruler 
 turns to Jesus, if perhaps his young daughter, 
 lying already dead, may be restored to his arms, 
 and Jesus takes the cold hand in his, and life 
 pulses once more through the veins. Mind and 
 body claim alike his care. A man of sorrows and 
 acquainted with grief, he bears in his own the 
 sorrow and the griefs of all other hearts. He says 
 
GOD'S WAY. 303 
 
 to the palsied cripple, " Son, be of good cheer," — 
 to the long-suffering woman, "Daughter, be of 
 good comfort." 
 
 He never brake the bruised reed, nor quenched 
 the smoking flax. When his disciples, small in 
 wisdom, small as yet in faith, were terrified at his 
 miraculous approach, he did not even chide them 
 that their long intercourse with him had not given 
 them more confidence. He remembered that they 
 were dust, and hastened to reassure them. " Be 
 of good cheer. It is I, be not afraid." He knew 
 tliat the truth must be admitted little by little. 
 "All men cannot receive this saying." Even in 
 the hour of parting he repressed the throbbing of 
 his full heart in compassion for their weakness. 
 " I have many things to say to you, but ye cannot 
 bear them now." Where men saw nothing to 
 pity, he pitied. The disciples never dreamed that 
 it concerned them whether the multitudes who 
 hung upon their master's words were hungry or 
 not, but the Master had compassion on them be- 
 cause they had nothing to eat, and he would not 
 send them away fasting. Importunity did not vex 
 him. The blind men clamored so loudly and per- 
 sistently, that the crowd around were shocked at 
 the indecorum; but Jesus had compassion on them, 
 and touched their eyes. Hatred did not inflame 
 him. Even while pronouncing the death-doom of 
 the wicked city which had killed his prophets, 
 stoned his messengers, and should yet crucify him- 
 
304 GOUS WAY. 
 
 self, he wept over it, yearning with more than 
 motherly love. Treachery could not alienate him. 
 For Peter's shameful weakness, desertion, and 
 denial there was only the earnest question, " Lov- 
 est thou me ? " Trouble could not move him to 
 selfishness. In the last hours, when his soul was 
 exceeding sorrowful, even unto death, and his 
 human heart craved human sympathy and found 
 it not, — even then his gentle reproach sighed it- 
 self into tender excusing, — " The spirit indeed is 
 willing, but the flesh is weak." And notwith- 
 standing all coldness, indifference, misunderstand- 
 ing, betrayal, his last bequest was love. " Lo, I 
 am with you alway, even unto the end of the 
 world," — and while lie blessed them, he was part- 
 ed from them, and carried up into heaven. 
 
 Well might the common people hear him glad- 
 ly, — him who made the lowliest among them 
 kings and priests unto God. Well might they 
 stand around him, a living breastwork against the 
 hostile Pharisees. Well might they come unto 
 him, and seek him, and stay him, that he should 
 not depart from them. Well might they spread 
 their garments in the way, and ring out his trium- 
 phant 'entry into the Beautiful City, " Hosanna 
 to the Son of David ! blessed is he that cometh in 
 the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest ! " 
 
 I see no reason why Christianity should not be 
 advanced in the world in precisely the same ratio 
 as Christian teachers follow the example of Christ : 
 
GOUS WAY. 305 
 
 and by Christian teachers I mean those who are 
 Christians at all ; for every man is set to be a 
 preacher of Christ, apart from any laying on of 
 hands. Christ's mission, indeed, was not of conso- 
 lation alone. It was of denunciation also. He 
 was a savor of death unto death, as well as of life 
 unto life. But salvation was the end, not destruc- 
 tion. Destruction was in full play already. He 
 came to seek and to save. Glad tidings of great 
 joy to all people, — Glory to God in the highest, 
 and on earth peace, good-will to men, — was the 
 birth-song of the Messiah. And it is to be ob- 
 served that his severest wrath was visited, not 
 upon the people, however vile, but upon the lead- 
 ers, the respectable Scribes and Pharisees, the 
 honorable men who dishonored the land ; teachers 
 who perverted the right ways of the Lord ; shep- 
 herds whose hungry sheep looked up and were not 
 fed ; dogs in the manger, who would neither go 
 into the kingdom of heaven themselves nor suffer 
 others to go in. On them fell the weight of h\^ 
 woes. For the people, blind, misled, ignorant, ful 
 of petty interest, petty ambitions, petty schemes 
 incapable of broad views, barren of high aspira- 
 tions, treading the narrow circle of their narrow 
 lives with scarcely a look beyond, — for them 
 there was instruction, sympathy, encouragement ; 
 a pointing to something higher, — to a future rest 
 for the weary, to many mansions for the homeless ; 
 words that should lead them, but not too rapidly 
 
306 GOUS WAY 
 
 or too suddenly, to the serene uplands that suburb 
 the Heavenly City. " O earth, earth, earth, hear 
 the word of the Lord." " Comfort ye, comfort ye 
 my people, saith your God." 
 
 In all lives there is an under-current of sadness. 
 In many lives there is more of shadow than of sun. 
 The burden presses heavily. There are few homes 
 in which disease and death have not made sad in- 
 roads. There are few hearts which do not bear 
 the foot-prints of disappointment, — none which do 
 not need the glad tidings of great joy, — the " Be 
 of good cheer " wath which Christ so often saluted 
 the suffering believer when he was on earth. It 
 is not that the Bible should be expurgated, — that 
 milk and w^ater should be substituted for meat, — 
 but that the people should be comforted in sorrow 
 and calmed in trouble, — that Christ should be 
 shown. Saviour, Deliverer, Redeemer from sin and 
 suffering, — that faint emotions should be recog- 
 nized, feeble efforts encouraged, little leanings to 
 good made the most of, knottiest points reserved 
 for dexterous fingers, — that it should not be so 
 continually dinged into men's ears that they are 
 corrupt, as it should be whispered that Christ is 
 holy. Is this preaching " smooth doctrine " ? 
 Well, what of it ? Did not Christ come on pur- 
 pose to make things smooth for us ? The world 
 is surely rough enough. It bristles with thorns ; 
 its brambles are continually rasping us. All along 
 these four thousand years the way is tracked with 
 
GOUS WAY. 307 
 
 bloody feet. Let us have the smooth, sweet doc- 
 trines of the Gospel, oil of joy, and balm of conso- 
 lation, grapes of Beulah, and honey of Canaan ; 
 for it is not the will of your Father which is in 
 heaven, that one of these little ones should perish. 
 Smooth doctrine! Is it not Christ's own doctrine? 
 And if it was not too smooth for the Jews, is it 
 too smooth for us ? Is the American populace any 
 viler than the Hebrew populace ? Yet for one 
 word of rebuke to them the Master spoke a hun- 
 dred of counsel and comfort. It was not " Shame 
 upon your pride ! " but " Blessed are the poor in 
 spirit \ " — not " Your cruelty is odious," but 
 " Blessed are the merciful ! " And who does not 
 know that people are a thousand times more likely 
 to be lured to virtue than shamed from vice ? 
 
 Now, of all times, let us learn what that mean- 
 eth, " I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." A 
 sound of battle is in the land, and there is sorrow 
 on the sea. The people may come up never so 
 bravely to the crisis, conscious of its magnitude, 
 and fired with sacred fury. But no enthusiasm of 
 victory, no heroism of sacrifice, can dazzle out the 
 agony. Aching hearts go up to the house of the 
 Lord on every Sabbath day, hearts wrung with the 
 pain of parting, heavy with fearful foreboding, — 
 anxious, sad, unrestful. It is not that they regret 
 their offering. They would not keep back theii 
 precious things from the altar; but when the smoke 
 of sacrifice is gone up, and they sit silent in theii 
 
308 GOUS WAY. 
 
 desolate homes, all the waves and the billows of 
 sorrow rush over them. 
 
 O, if they could only see Jesus standing with 
 outstretched arms ! If they could only hear the 
 Divine voice: "Let not your heart be troubled, 
 neither let it be afraid." "My peace I give unto 
 you." " I will not leave you comfortless." " In 
 the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good 
 cheer ; I have overcome the world." 
 
 " Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your 
 God." Fathers and mothers, whose sons have 
 gone to battle, whose sharpest pang at parting was 
 lest it might be forever, who would have given up 
 your beloved joyfully at your country's call had 
 you but been assured that their eternal happiness 
 was secure, — take comfort. 
 
 To the soul, time and space are not. The body 
 knows them well, as foes to be killed, or friends to 
 be enjoyed, advantages to be secured, or difficulties 
 to be surmounted. But the soul cares for none of 
 these things. With one bound she overleaps them 
 all, and stands in the storied past, or the mystical 
 future. She wanders, at her own sweet will, 
 amonor the delio;hts of Eden, or of the Millennium. 
 The eye looks admiringly upon the soft gleam of 
 the evening star in the glowing West, and anon 
 the soul is there. The eye reads of the great 
 white throne, and the soul bows before it. In 
 all her motions she is impetuous. Thought, will, 
 hope, despair, passion, require but a moment for 
 
GOD'S WAY. 309 
 
 the intensest action. A decision is instantaneous. 
 A life-long purpose is formed while the pendulum 
 swings once. Gratitude, love, and adoration 
 may flood the heart at one throb, and fertilize it 
 forever. The young hero who has just come back, 
 pale and still, to the home he left " burning with 
 high hope," went away from us in a moment. One 
 moment the fatal bullet crashed in to the lair of 
 life ; the next, the startled soul sped out into the 
 great unknown. But before him to God went a 
 prayer. From the already paling lips burst forth 
 one sudden — who shall say unheard — cry, '' My 
 God ! " 
 
 " My God ! " What hope and love and trust, 
 what awe and shock and terror have not those 
 words embodied ! When calamity comes sudden- 
 ly, and the soul is hurled from her routine, how 
 quickly her earthliness and selfishness, even such 
 as is innocent, fall off from her, and she turns, 
 strong and straight, to her Maker ! In these 
 eventful moments there needs no argument to 
 prove, no inducement to persuade. Instinctively 
 she recognizes her Author. True as the rivulet 
 to the ocean, this life flows on toward the Infinite 
 life. Repentance and love and faith unfeigned 
 may be all compacted in a heart-beat. It has be,en 
 quaintly said of a sailor to whom death came in a 
 misstep among the shrouds : 
 
 " Betwixt the mast-head and the ground 
 God's mercy sought, is mercy found." 
 
310 GOUS WAY. 
 
 In her every-day life the soul is dainty and co- 
 quettish. She treads coyly. She advances with 
 retrogressions. Never so trivial a fear, or whim, 
 or fancy, shall suffice to keep her back from God ; 
 but In the awful presence of a great fact, or a haz- 
 ardous future, she rends away instantly all affecta- 
 tions, and lays hold on God with a strong, unre- 
 laxlng grapple ; and God, be sure, will not wrench 
 off the hand that chngs to him. The soul that 
 flies to him in fear, and the soul that nestles to him 
 in love, shall alike find protection and consola- 
 tion. It may be only at the close of a long life, 
 that the claims, or the attractiveness, or the 
 power of God is felt. Wrong, wrong ! Yet, so 
 good is God, so long-suffering, so rich in mercy, 
 that even then he forgiveth iniquity, transgression, 
 and sin. Even at the eleventh hour his hand is 
 not shortened, nor his ear deaf; for his mercy en- 
 dureth forever. Let none despair for his loved 
 ones. The same love is around them now that has 
 been around them from the first moment that saw 
 them cradled in your arms. Commit your care 
 unto God, for he careth for you and for them. 
 Pray for them, be instant in season and out of sea- 
 son, and trust in God. Their hearts are tender 
 when they think of you, and God is very near a 
 heart that loves. The solemn exigencies of the 
 hour are messages from him. The danger that 
 impends and confronts is his agent for good ; and 
 as your boy walks his night-watch, or lies down 
 
GOD'S WAY. 311 
 
 beneath the stars, or rises up for the mevitable 
 conflict and the possible death, be sure the fa- 
 therly God, whom you worship, is not far off. 
 Never to your ear may come his murmur of peni- 
 tence and prayer. His soul may sigh itself out 
 amid the smoke and thunder of battle. But Christ 
 walks among the wounded and the dying, pouring 
 in oil and wine, healing the broken in heart, and 
 binding up their wounds. He hears their confes- 
 sion and petition or ever it be breathed, and long 
 may be the bliss though short the shrift. Trust 
 in God. 
 
 " My God ! " it is the human heart bearing in- 
 voluntary witness to the fatherliness of the Father. 
 The brave boy, full of vigorous life, met death at 
 the onset. The young heart that was so warm 
 and true, that left behind, with thoughtful tender- 
 ness, its love and blessing, and last good-by, went 
 not to an unknown God. How it had throbbed 
 before, we do not know ; but if, in that last, wild 
 pulse, it claimed sonship and redemption, who shall 
 say that, through Infinite love, it found not recog- 
 nition ? 
 
 And this God is our God for ever and ever. 
 He wdll be our guide even unto death. We can 
 never begin too early to love him. We do not 
 know that now is ever too late. 
 
 The Old Testament has sometimes fallen into 
 disrepute, because of the sternness and severity 
 wdiich it displays. The God of the Old Testa- 
 
312 GOns WAY. 
 
 ment has been thought by some to be an aveng- 
 ing God, — strict to mark miquity, — visiting 
 transgression and sin with his wrath and curse, 
 ordaining wars of extirpation, — reveahng power 
 indeed, and inspiring awe, but not awakening 
 love, or exciting any of those warm emotions that 
 fill and flood the soul in that New Testament 
 wherein Christ records his behests. It is true 
 that law is prominent in the Old, and Gospel in 
 the New Testament. Sinai is not Calvary. Yet, 
 scattered up and down those sacred pages are 
 countless and unfailing tokens of the loving-kind- 
 ness of the Father. The way is rocky and rough, 
 as needs must be, but fairest flowers spring all 
 along, and their fragrance pours on the air a per- 
 petual sweetness. From Genesis to Malachi, as 
 well as from Matthew to the final Revelation, wit- 
 ness after witness testifies that God is gracious and 
 long-sufiering, slow to anger, and of great mercy. 
 The Father and the Son are one, and their name 
 is love. 
 
 We can see it in God's treatment of Elijah. 
 There seems to have been a time in the life of that 
 wise and pious prophet, when he was utterly dis- 
 couraged and dispirited. He had shown himself 
 faithful and fearless. He had dared to beard the 
 lion in his den. He had dared to prophesy evil 
 to the atrocious Ahab. Face to face, at peril 
 of his life, he hurled back Ahab's accusation, and 
 declared, " I have not troubled Israel, but thou 
 
GOUS WAY. 313 
 
 and tliy father's house." He had dared, pubUcly, 
 before the king and the people, to slay four hun- 
 dred and fifty of the prophets of Baal. Then his 
 courage failed him. The moment he found that 
 Jezebel was on his track, he lost heart and hope. 
 She was a woman whose ability was equalled only 
 by her wickedness ; and when a woman gives her 
 mind to iniquity, she can generally do a great deal 
 more in that Hne than a man. So, when he heard 
 the oath that Jezebel had sworn against him, he 
 immediately arose and went for his life ; and reach- 
 ing the wilderness, he sat down under a juniper- 
 tree, and in bitterness of soul requested for himself 
 that he might die. If God saw and spoke and 
 acted like a man, Elijah would most likely have 
 received a severe reprimand. " What is this ? " 
 an earthly Master would have said. " Why 
 this sudden eclipse of faith ? Whence this cul- 
 pable and monstrous ingratitude ? What ground 
 have I ever given you for distrust ? Have I not 
 always protected you ? Has a single hair of your 
 head been harmed? When Israel was famishincr 
 
 o 
 
 and panting through the long years of drought, 
 did I not feed you daily, pressing even the birds 
 of the air into your service ? Did I not restore a 
 dead child to life at your prayer, and send down 
 fire to consume your burnt-offering ? Have I 
 ever deserted you at a pinch ? Have I not al- 
 ways honored you before the people ? And now, 
 through fear of one wicked woman, you are ready 
 
 14 
 
814 GOUS WAY. 
 
 to die ! Die, then, since you are weak enough to 
 desire it ! Leave my service, if you have so little 
 faith. I will choose a worthier man to be my 
 servant." 
 
 God did not so. Our Father in heaven knew 
 his fainting prophet's frame, and remembered 
 that he was but dust. Elijah was, doubtless, 
 over-weary from his headlong fright and flight. 
 In the days of excitement that had preceded, 
 probably his meals had been irregular, liis sleep 
 broken, and his health, in consequence, had be- 
 come impaired. He had left his servant behind, 
 and, unaccustomed himself to minister to his own 
 personal wants, he doubtless experienced grave 
 annoyance from that source. Uncertain of what 
 lay before him, faint, perhaps, from lack of food, 
 and weary with his rapid journey, the doors of 
 his soul were wide open to the demons of de- 
 spair, and Satan is always ready to enter in and 
 take possession. His body acted on his soul, 
 his soul reacted on his body, and altogether he 
 was in a very melancholy way. But God knew 
 all about it, and what did he do ? Chide him 
 and punish him, and so break the bruised reed ? 
 No ; the first thing the angel did was to prepare 
 him a nice warm supper, and make him eat. 
 Blessed forerunner of those truly Christian min- 
 isters who make straight through the yearning 
 stomachs of starving men a highway for the re- 
 ligion of Christ ! And after Elijah had still fur- 
 
GOUS WAY. 815 
 
 ther been refreshed by sleep, the gentle touch of 
 the angel awoke him once more, and the heavenly- 
 voice compassionately bade him eat because the 
 journey is too great. Not a syllable of chiding. 
 He was not yet strong enough to receive it. But 
 hiding in a cave among the mountains, the word 
 of the Lord came to him, " What doest thou here, 
 Elijah ? " Even then the reproach is more in the 
 accents than in the words. Lightning, and earth- 
 quake, and great, strong wind, were not hurled 
 against him, but the still, small voice melted into 
 his soul. More than this, his sympathizing Lord 
 gave him also EHsha for a disciple, companion, sub- 
 stitute, and successor, and comforted him with the 
 assurance that he was not the sole survivor of 
 God's worshippers, but that seven thousand were 
 left in Israel who had not bowed the knee to Baal. 
 We hear no more of Elijah's want of faith. God's 
 metho'd with him was successful. When after- 
 wards he was commanded to go down to Ahab, 
 he went straightway, and boldly charged him with 
 having wrought evil in the sight of the Lord. 
 Kings, or queens, or soldiers seem thenceforth to 
 have had no terrors for him ; and having fought a 
 good fight, the chariot of fire and the horses of 
 fire bore him to the heavenly city. 
 
 The story of Jonah is one at which people are 
 somewhat inclined to look askance. But, in judg- 
 ing of all narratives, you do not fasten upon one 
 incident to the exclusion of the rest. You look 
 
316 GOUS WAY. 
 
 upon the whole, and upon its bearings. Of all 
 the books of the Old Testament, one we can least 
 spare is Jonah. It is at once most human and most 
 divine. It teaches, in the most gentle, delicate, and 
 exquisite manner, a lesson which every one sorely 
 needs, and it shows to us God, the God of the Old 
 Testament, the God of Sinai, the God of justice, 
 a God of fatherly tenderness, compassion, forbear- 
 ance, — caring, loving, forgiving. We cannot give 
 up Jonah for an improbability. We believe thou- 
 sands of them every day. A generation that is 
 credulous of BHtz, Anderson, and Houdin need 
 not be incredulous of the Bible. If the skill of the 
 created can give the lie to our senses, surely we 
 need not try to shorten the hand of the Creator. 
 
 God chose Jonah to carry his message to Nin- 
 eveh, — Jonah, an insubordinate, cowardly, nar- 
 row-minded, short-sighted, testy, hot-tempered, 
 cruel, impulsive, insolent man, — not at all the 
 person we should have suggested for such an em- 
 bassy. But if Jonah had not been Jonah, where 
 would our lesson be ? 
 
 God commanded Jonah to go to Nineveh. He 
 straightway arose, and started for Tarshish. God 
 told him to go one way, and he went another. 
 When, however, shipwreck and ruin stared him in 
 the face, a gleam of light shone out in his char- 
 acter. Frankness, courage, and something that 
 looks like disinterested benevolence, appeared in 
 his confession and direction : " I know that for my 
 
OOUS WAY. 317 
 
 sake this great tempest is upon you. Take me up, 
 and cast me forth into the sea ; so shall the sea 
 be calm unto you." When the generous-hearted 
 sailors, after vainly striving to prevent so dreadful 
 a fate, had reluctantly, and with many protests and 
 prayers, sacrificed him, — one for many, — when 
 the waters compassed him about, and he went 
 down to the bottoms of the mountains, — his dor- 
 mant faith awoke, and he remembered the Lord. 
 With perverse ignorance, he had thought to escape 
 from that Divine presence by going to Tarshish ; 
 but when the earth with her bars was about him 
 forever, he looked again toward the holy temple, 
 — and looked not in vain. God graciously ac- 
 cepted his repentance, and started him once more 
 on his jouiTiey. 
 
 Up and down the streets of Nineveh walks the 
 prophet, tolling the death-knell of the city. " Yet 
 forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown." 
 To that exceeding great city, full of silver and 
 gold and pleasant furniture, full of gayety and 
 wealth and fashion and splendor, that solemn 
 voice must have come like the trump of the arch- 
 angel. " Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be 
 overthrown.*' All the beauty and glory shall be 
 swept away. For all the merchandise of gold, 
 and silver, and precious stones, and pearls, and 
 purple, and silk, and scarlet, — for the voice of harp- 
 ers and musicians, and of pipers and trumpeters, 
 for the voice of the bride o;room and of the bride, 
 
318 GOUS WAY. 
 
 for the maiden behind her lattice, and the little chil- 
 dren playing in the streets, — there shall be the 
 abomination of desolation. No wonder the stoutest 
 heart quailed, and the boldest cheek blanched. 
 
 But things took a turn upon which Jonah had 
 not calculated. The people believed God. A 
 national fast was proclaimed, and most sacredly 
 and solemnly kept. From the king on the throne 
 to the baby in the cradle, — yes, even to the horse 
 in the stable, and the ox in his stall, — the nation 
 clothed itself in sackcloth, and cried mightily unto 
 God, and God heard their cry, and did not do the 
 evil which he had threatened. 
 
 What was the effect upon Jonah ? There came 
 One after him, who wept over the approaching 
 destruction of a great city. " O Jerusalem, Je- 
 rusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest 
 them which are sent unto thee, how often would I 
 have gathered thy children together, as a hen gath- 
 ereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would 
 not ! " Nineveh had not stoned her prophet. 
 She heeded his words, and humbled herself before 
 his God. Yet he took it as a personal grievance 
 that she was not to be destroyed. It was nothing 
 to him that a whole population was not to be sudden- 
 ly cut off from sweet life, — nothing to him that, 
 where sin had abounded, grace should much more 
 abound. His own reputation loomed up before him 
 larger than the life of a million souls. His proph- 
 ecy would not come true, and nothing was of any 
 
GOnS WAY. 319 
 
 account compared with that. " Just as I said ! '* 
 exclaims Jonah. " I knew God was gracious, 
 and kind, and merciful, and would not do what 
 he threatened. That was why I went to Tar- 
 shish. And now here I am, disgraced, and I 
 might as well die as live." O bold, bad man! 
 How dared he speak thus to the Most High God ? 
 How could he speak thus to the most loving 
 Saviour? How wrest even infinite tenderness 
 into bitter and insolent reproach ? Why did not 
 God smite him on the spot? But there is no 
 thunderbolt, — only the gentle rebuke, " Doest 
 thou well to be angry ? " And Jonah, moody and 
 sullen, takes up his station outside the city, to see 
 if perhaps, after all, it may not be destroyed, and 
 himself honored ; but even while sitting there, 
 nursing his evil passions, the great God conde- 
 scends to reason with him. A gourd springs up, 
 sheltering him from the Southern sun, and his 
 selfishness is exceeding glad. A blight destroys 
 it, the sun beats upon his unprotected head once 
 more, and he swings back again to the opposite 
 extreme, and declares life not worth the living. 
 
 "Doest thou well to be angry for the gourd?" 
 asks God, slow to anger. 
 
 " I do well to be angry, even unto death," is 
 the fierce and passionate reply. 
 
 And then comes the application, — the lesson. 
 " Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which 
 thou hast not labored, neither madest it grow; 
 
320 GOD'S WAY. 
 
 and should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, 
 wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons 
 that cannot discern between their right hand and 
 their left hand, and also much cattle ? " 
 
 Ah ! Jonah, the lesson was not for you alone, 
 but for heady, reckless, selfish, obstinate human 
 nature everywhere. 
 
 If God were as strict to mark iniquity as man, 
 where should we appear ? We often speak of His 
 justice, but God's justice is better than man's 
 mercy. Not a sparrow falleth to the ground with- 
 out his notice. The little dimpled arras of the 
 Ninevite babies, stretching blindly out to him, 
 took hold of his strength, and held back the blow. 
 Nay, more than this, his loving kindness heard the 
 bleating of the sheep, and the low of the uncon- 
 scious kine, and for 
 
 " The young lambs bleating in the meadows. 
 The young birds chirping in the nest, 
 The young favvns playing with the shadows, 
 The young flowers blooming toward the west," 
 
 he repented him of the evil, and spared the city. 
 In old time, a test question was, " Are you will- 
 ing to be damned for the glory of God?" One 
 rather inclines to ask some of our modern sons of 
 thunder, " Are you willing that men should be saved 
 for the glory of God ? " It is difficult to believe 
 that all will eventually be redeemed to holiness 
 and happiness. So far as the Bible goes, if any 
 one thing is therein clearly taught, both directly 
 
GOD'S WAY, 321 
 
 and by implication, it seems to be that there is a 
 limit to probation. But the more clearly this is 
 seen to be a fact, the more terrible does it become ; 
 and when I hear the tone which is sometimes 
 adopted in speaking of, and with, those who hold 
 opposite opinions, I wish to ask, " Are you willing^ 
 my Orthodox brother, that the world should be 
 saved? If, when you come to the gate of heav- 
 en, you should find the sacred portals flung wide 
 open to all, would you not feel a little disappoint- 
 ed ? Would your heart give one great bound of 
 sudden and unlooked-for joy, or would your first 
 thought be, " Well, well ! here is a pretty di- 
 lemma ! Everybody pressing in, and what is to 
 become of my arguments and positions ? " I sup- 
 pose we are willing that men should go to heaven, 
 but we wish them to go our way. So far as one 
 may judge from appearances, if they will not go 
 our way, some will not feel much satisfaction at 
 seeing them there at all. We should be more 
 disconcerted at the sudden discomfiture of our 
 system, than we should be rejoiced at the acces- 
 sion of unlooked-for happiness. Jonah thought 
 himself extremely orthodox. Armed with a special 
 command, he felt quite secure in launching his de- 
 nunciations right and left; and it did not in the 
 least agree with his idea of the way things ought 
 to be done, to have God strike in, and baffle all his 
 calculations. 
 
 Blessed be God that he does strike in. Jonahs 
 14* u 
 
322 GOD'S WAY. 
 
 may fret and fume and pout and sulk, but he 
 will do of his own good pleasure. They cannot 
 hold him back from mercy, though that mercy dash 
 their theories to pieces. They cannot monopolize 
 truth, and force all purchasers to their stall. They 
 cannot barricade heaven, and refuse admittance 
 to all whose passports are not vised at their office. 
 They may hew out turnpikes, and say to the Most 
 High, "This is the way, walk ye in it"; but He 
 that sitteth in the heavens is not confined by our 
 boundary-lines. His path is in the great waters. 
 His footsteps are not known. Are God's people 
 willing in the day of his power ? 
 
 O that men would praise the Lord for his good- 
 ness., and speak and practise his loving-kindness! 
 As the mantle of Elijah fell upon Elisha, so may 
 the mantle of God's charity fall upon us, — mak- 
 ing us more gentle, and considerate, and kind, and 
 thoughtful, and loving, — that we may win back 
 the wanderer, instead of driving him farther on 
 in the by-ways of sin, — console the downcast, 
 instead of adding to his despondency by harshness, 
 — and in all things follow Him whose feet are 
 beautiful upon the mountains, and whose messen- 
 gers are anointed to preach good tidings unto the 
 meek, to bind up the broken-hearted, to comfort 
 all that mourn, to give unto them beauty for ashes, 
 the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise 
 for the spirit of heaviness. 
 
XI, 
 
 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 )E observed, not long since, a man 
 endeavoring to drive a load of wood 
 into a neighboring yard. The team 
 consisted of a horse and a pair of 
 oxen. The yard was up-hill, the load was heavy, 
 the horse balky, and the man furious ; so, instead 
 of " a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogeth- 
 er," they gave each a separate jerk in his own 
 viirection. The man passed from passion to pro- 
 fanity, the horse dashed right and left, the load 
 grew palpably heavier, and the yard more and 
 more up-hill. Meanwhile, the patient oxen were 
 the chief sufferers. They pulled with all their 
 might whenever they had a chance, but the wil- 
 ful, selfish horse backed and twisted and pawed, 
 and prevented their exertions ; and though all the 
 drawing that was done was done by them, the long, 
 fierce whip, in the hands of the enraged and indis- 
 criminate driver, came down on the back of horse 
 
324 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 and ox alike. It was a great pity. The task was 
 not intolerable. One strong, steady, continuous 
 effort would have accomplished it ; but the selfish- 
 ness of one member of the firm, and the injudi- 
 ciousness of another, spoiled the whole. So the 
 man shouted, and the whip cracked, and there 
 was a great irritation, and the work was not done, 
 after all. 
 
 Then through the din and discord came softly 
 stealing the sweet words of Paul : " Bear ye one 
 another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." 
 
 "Bear ye one another's burdens." The way is 
 long, and a troop passes over it continually. There 
 is no point where we cannot find lamentation and 
 weeping and great mourning. There are weary 
 feet, feeble knees, bending shoulders, aching hearts. 
 There are broken hopes, disappointed ambition, 
 frustrated plans, mortified pride, wounded vanity, 
 slighted love, delayed success, detected guilt, mis- 
 placed confidence, shallow affection, loneliness, 
 poverty, shame, desolation, disease, death. All 
 these we can pass by with a sneer, with indiffer- 
 ence, or contempt, or disgust, and so make the 
 burden heavier. It is in our power, if we will, or 
 if we are not careful to will otherwise, to give an 
 added bitterness to the cup that already overflows. 
 We can stand still, and keep back the helping 
 hand, the encouraging smile, the reassuring tone, 
 and thus make up-hill work for the struggling saint 
 or the returning sinner. We can go further, and, 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 325 
 
 by wanton neglect or a perverse rejection of our 
 own duties, add to those of our neighbor. The 
 burden which of rio;ht belongs to us, w^e can throw 
 upon our brother's shoulders, already overladen. 
 
 But on the other hand lies a glorious possibil- 
 ity. We can so walk that the road shall resound 
 with songs and thanksgiving. We can strengthen 
 the weak and confirm the feeble. We can offer 
 sympathy to the sorrowful, balm to the wounded, 
 comfort to the afflicted. We may draw back 
 shuddering from the sin, but we can hold out help 
 and hope to the sinner. If there is a palpable 
 germ of good, we can develop it, and if there is 
 not, we can dig for it. We can be on the watch 
 to discover whose burden bears heavily, and bend 
 our own necks to it. We can forbid the great 
 question of our life to be, " How shall I get on 
 best ? " and ask instead, " How can I best speed 
 others on the w^ay ? " 
 
 How might this valley of the shadow of death 
 become the pleasant land of Beulah ! Our bur- 
 dens would become light while we were striving 
 to lighten others. The chilled traveller saved his 
 own life in sa^^ng that of the perishing man, but 
 his fellow-traveller passed on, and w^as punished. 
 In the sorrows of others we forget our own. In 
 helping others we help ourselves. By keeping 
 our shoulders pertinaciously to our wheel, we shall 
 not any more than get out of the mire, while, if we 
 give a lift, here and there, when our brother is 
 
326 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 stuck fast, we shall get to the end just as soon, and 
 have a pleasant journey besides. 
 
 " The law of Christ." There are many points 
 of doctrine hard to be understood. The Chris- 
 tian religion has mysteries which even the angels 
 desire to look into, and which we cannot fathom. 
 Through all our life we shall grope in the outer 
 courts of many a truth, contenting ourselves per- 
 force with the substance of things hoped for, the 
 evidence of things not seen. But this law of 
 Christ is one which we can fully know and 
 promptly do. Simple, definite, explicit, he who 
 runs may read, and he who runs the fastest may 
 read the best. We need never be at a loss 
 whether or not we are the children of God. We 
 need not be over-anxious lest our calling and elec- 
 tion be not sure. The test is always at hand. The 
 law came from Sinai with thunderings and light- 
 nings and earthquakes ; but the law comes from 
 Christ in a still, small voice, and love is its fulfil- 
 ment. Its precept is, " Whatsoever ye would 
 that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." 
 Judging ourselves by this rule, the best of us are 
 none too good, and the most of us are intolerable 
 — to our fellow-sinners ; — not intolerable to the 
 long-suffering Father, not intolerable to the dear 
 Redeemer, who knoweth our frame, who remem- 
 bereth that we are dust, and so bears with us, and 
 lets us live on, if perchance the earthly dust may 
 one day " wear celestial glory." 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 327 
 
 Christian brethren, of whatever name, or sect, 
 or nation, this is the seal of your apostleship. 
 This is the essence of your creed. Do you ful- 
 fil the law of Christ by bearing one another's 
 burdens ? 
 
 When we Ipok at what Christianity has done 
 for the world, we thank God and take courage. 
 "When we look at what has not been done, at what 
 remains to be done, we are ready to lose heart, 
 and cry out, " Who is sufficient for these things? " 
 When we see the nations that have been reclaimed 
 from idolatry to the living God, the temples that 
 have been reared to his worship, the houses that 
 have been opened for the fatherless and widow, 
 the diseased in body and mind, the afflicted and 
 distressed of whatever name and nation, — when 
 we see the kindly spirit of that tender religion that 
 seeketh not its own, springing up around us in 
 deeds of charity and love, — we can almost beheve 
 that our eyes have seen the salvation of the Lord 
 But we turn the leaf, and another picture darkens 
 before us. It is not that a great multitude do not 
 go up to the house of the Lord, but that greater 
 multitudes press down to the chambers of death. 
 The charities well up sweetly still, but they well 
 up in a desert, and the breath of the Simoon 
 sweeps over them, and burning sand lies heaped 
 around them, hot, arid, life -forbidding. The 
 leaven is so little, and the lump so great, that 
 faith can scarcely look forward to the time when 
 
328 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 the whole shall be leavened. It Is eighteen hun- 
 dred years since the song of peace on earth, good- 
 will to men, rang down from the skies of Judaea, 
 and yet the tu-ed earth finds no peace. For eigh- 
 teen hundred years the religion of Christ, which, 
 whether true or false, is conceded to be the best 
 religion ever revealed by God, or devised by man, 
 has been preached and prayed and sung and lived, 
 and yet it has hardly begun to take hold of the 
 life of the world. Not to mention the tribes of 
 men who have never heard the name of Christ, 
 nor the nations to whom the story of his birth and 
 life and death seem but an idle tale, nor those 
 who have adopted it but to wrest it to the destruc- 
 tion of judgment, reason, intellect, and manhood, 
 we have but to look at our own country, state, 
 town, chm-ch, heart, and we need not trouble our- 
 selves about abstractions of total depravity, for we 
 shall find on our hands more of the concrete arti- 
 cle — total or otherwise — than we can readily 
 manage. We are like a wide-reaching, thinly- 
 settled country, over which a great army marches 
 in victorious career. The old standards go down 
 before it, and new ones are run up ; but after the 
 army is passed, there is not very much difference. 
 A new banner streams on the air, but matters in 
 general go on very mucli as they did before. 
 
 One of the points, and in truth the most com- 
 mon one, in which we come short of the glory of 
 God, and of the duty which Christ enjoins, is a 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 329 
 
 want of consideration for others. In a general 
 way we doubtless desire to make other people 
 happy, and to walk by the golden rule ; but we 
 make a rather bungling performance of it. The 
 trouble lies in our application of the theory. The 
 Bible says, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- 
 self"; we agree to it all, point out to our children 
 the beautiful spirit of the Bible, and then go 
 away, and do not love our neighbor as we do our- 
 selves. We would not, perhaps, actually cheat 
 him in a bargain, any more than we would cheat 
 ourselves. We would not burn his house, any 
 sooner than we would our own. We would 
 make just as strenuous efforts to save his property 
 if it were endangered. We do him a good turn 
 when we can just as well as not, and even when 
 .it is positively inconvenient. But walking home 
 from church with a vivid recollection of what you 
 saw in the choir during the singing of the last 
 hymn, you say, ''What a bold, affected girl that 
 Miss Smith is ! The effect of her fine contralto 
 voice is quite spoiled by her airs during singing." 
 You would be very much displeased to have Mr. 
 Smith say so about your daughter. '' But," you 
 answer, " if my daughter is affected, I expect peo- 
 ple to say so, whether I like it or not. It might 
 reach her ears, and cure her of her affectation. I 
 would not go around decrying her to every one, 
 but I consider it no harm to say to you what I 
 think about her." 
 
330 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 Perhaps not. There is scarcely more than a 
 show of amiabihtj, and not even a show of reason, 
 in the dogma that one must never speak of a per^ 
 son unless one can say something good about him. 
 It is quite right, and often edifying, to discuss 
 people's faults and follies in the proper time and 
 spirit, and with the proper persons. It resolves 
 moral indistinctnesses, helps us to clearer views, 
 shows us how such and such things appear to 
 the eyes of our friends, and gives us thereby en- 
 couragement and warning to guide our own con- 
 duct; but in this very place there is great danger 
 lest we do not leave a broad enough margin. We 
 do not give elbow-room to modifying circumstan- 
 ces and to contrary possibilities. We take a view 
 from our own stand-point, and pronounce judg- 
 ment as if there were no other. Miss Smith, so 
 far from being bold or affected, is in truth timid 
 to a fault. It is positive torture to her to stand in 
 that quartette-choir, confronting the congregation. 
 It is only by the most earnest appeals that she 
 has been induced to do it. The very boldness 
 and affectation which you notice is only her na- 
 tive shyness, trying to hide itself, and overshooting 
 the mark. 
 
 A mother, observing that the fruit-dish was pre- 
 maturely empty, said to her little daughter, " Why, 
 Lizzy, what has become of all the apples ? Have 
 you eaten them?" "No," answered Lizzy, "I 
 haven't eaten one." Lizzy's mother had seen 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 831 
 
 her eating more than one, and she was somewhat 
 shocked at what she thought was Lizzy's false- 
 hood ; but Lizzy persisted that she " had n't eaten 
 one." After a great deal of questioning, it came 
 out that Lizzy meant that there was one apple 
 which she had not eaten, but her little stammer- 
 ing tongue found a difficulty in conveying the 
 idea. 
 
 "I don't beheve Mrs. S. is very much of a 
 lady," said one, of a new neighbor. " She was 
 talkincr so loud this mornino; that I heard her 
 plainly as I went by the house, till I got clear up 
 to the corner." After Mrs. S. had been in town 
 awhile, it transpired that her mother, who lived 
 with her, was very deaf, and the loud words were 
 probably addressed to her. 
 
 A poor old woman who was never sensitive 
 about her poverty, age, or ailments, used to cause 
 much mirth in the minds of certain young people, 
 because, though she pretended to be very lame 
 from rheumatism, and seemed to walk with great 
 difficulty when she first arose, yet, no sooner 
 was she a few rods from the house, and partially 
 out of sight, than she stepped off as sprightly as 
 need be. The young people have now grown up 
 into rheumatism themselves, and have ascertained 
 from doleful experience that it was the nature of 
 rheumatism, and not of " Aunt Harriet," which 
 made her aged limbs stiff and unwieldy after long 
 inaction, and gradually recover suppleness by ex- 
 ercise. 
 
332 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 You hear of a woman lecturing, or otherwise 
 breaking through the ordinary routine of her sex, 
 and you wrap the robes of your womanhood more 
 closely around you, and congratulate yourself on 
 your feminine delicacy, reserve, and modesty 
 (that perhaps could not lecture if it tried), and 
 deprecate female ambition, and discontent with 
 one's allotted sphere, and neglect of appropriate 
 duties, — while, if you could look into the lecturer's 
 heart, you would see very likely no dream of fame, 
 but of flannel petticoats for her little ones,* peace 
 and rest of mind for an invalid husband, plenty 
 for an aged and infirm mother, help for a strug- 
 gling brother, salvation for a beloved sister. You 
 would see, perhaps, a delicacy and modesty as 
 much greater than yours, as the intellect is strong- 
 er ; battling with want and discouragement and ad- 
 verse fate ; neglecting no duty, but forced by the 
 pressure of many ; sighing for no broader arena 
 than the household hearth, on which, alas ! the 
 fire burns dim and low ; rising at last, weak in- 
 deed, but strong in the righteousness of its pur- 
 pose ; conscious of being about to exile itself 
 from the circle of sympathies in which it would 
 delight to share, yet marching bravely to battle, 
 though the most brilHant success must be defeat, 
 — a martyr without the crown. O women ! 
 when a woman goes out from among you, be 
 sure there is a cause. Be sure that, whatever of 
 * See Mrs. Southworth's Autobiography. 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 333 
 
 vanity or weakness there may be in her charac- 
 ter, her womanhood is stronger than it all. Be 
 sure she is di'awn or driven by a power whose 
 might you do not see, and cannot measure. Be 
 sure there are Hons in the way with which she 
 has grappled in a death-struggle, and by all the 
 gentleness and tenderness and love of your own 
 sheltered womanhood, by all your hope of future 
 good for the little ones who cluster about your 
 knee, and whose future paths you cannot trace 
 nor know what Fate may have in store for them, 
 deal gently, which is only justly, with these and 
 such as these. 
 
 " The crowd, they only see the crown, 
 They only hear the hymn, 
 They mark not that the cheek is pale, 
 And that the eye is dim." 
 
 We go home from our shops and offices and 
 fields comfortable and tidy and well-to-do. On 
 our way we pass by our neighbor's house. The 
 fences are down, and the clapboards hanging, the 
 blinds broken, the panels loose, the paint worn 
 dingy, the door-step fallen in, the garden over- 
 grown with weeds, over-trampled by cows, over- 
 rooted by pigs ; and we condemn, in no measured 
 terms, the thriftless, shiftless, lazy owner, who 
 hangs around the tavern and the grocery, while 
 his health and house are going to ruin ; but we 
 do not see the thriftless, fretful, complaining wife, 
 whose whining voice, continued fault-finding, un- 
 
334 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 washed floors, and ill-cooked food liave under- 
 mined his strength, taken away all hope from his 
 heart and all spring from his life. Or, we pour 
 out the vials of our wrath upon her, knowing noth- 
 ing of the invalid and half imbecile mother who 
 gave her child all the mind she had, and wore out 
 the remnant of her own weary life in a madhouse, 
 leaving her daughter to the untender mercies of 
 an ignorant, drunken father, without prop for her 
 weakness, or culture for any strength she might 
 possess. No, we know nothing of all this. We 
 can know nothing of it. All we see is the sin, 
 without the temptation ; the fault, without the 
 palliation ; the weakness, without the cause ; the 
 appearance, without the reality. We cannot tell 
 the difference between simple preoccupation and 
 haughtiness. A shrinking constitutional sensitive- 
 ness may look precisely like vanity. Bashfulness 
 masks itself under affectation. Misunderstanding 
 blunders into apparent untruthfulness. Shyness 
 protects itself behind the breastplate of pride. 
 Deep emotion blinds our eyes with the flash and 
 sparkle of levity. Lifa is a masquerade. Men 
 and women come and go in dominos, sometimes 
 of settled purpose, sometimes involuntarily, some- 
 times unconsciously. 
 
 Two inferences may be drawn ; one, that, since 
 we cannot know all the premises, we shall be 
 guiltless, even if we do arrive at wrong conclu- 
 sions ; the other, that, since we do not know all 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 335 
 
 the premises, we should leave large margin for 
 the unknown. Which of the two inferences we 
 act upon will depend on whether our object is to 
 justify ourselves or arrive at truth. 
 
 The persons towards whom we most need to exer- 
 cise considerateness, are those with whom we come 
 oftenest and most closely in contact ; while the 
 tendency is the other way. We are tolerably 
 polite and considerate towards those whom we 
 see only occasionally; and too apt to be thought- 
 less of the feelings, comfort, antecedents, and sur- 
 roundings of those who sit by our own firesides. 
 
 There is a class of persons in our land, who, if 
 common report be true, have appropriated to them- 
 selves an undue share of Adam's transgression. 
 They not only fall into divers temptations una- 
 wares, but " have a strange alacrity in sinking." 
 Like poor Edmund Sparkler, if there is any pos- 
 sibility of a mistake's being made, they are sure 
 to make it. They do not, like the rest of the 
 world, occasionally do a foolish thing, but they 
 never " deviate into sense." 
 
 Editors of religious newspapers, city missiona- 
 ries, evangelical preachers, and benevolent men 
 generally, may be somewhat incredulous as to the 
 existence of such a class ; but when I say that I 
 refer to our Irish female servants, I am sure that 
 American mistresses will rise en masse^ and declare 
 that, so far from exaggerating, the half has not 
 been told. Cannot every housekeeper who reads 
 
336 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 these words recall Bridgets and Ellens and Marys 
 by the dozen, whose moral memories were exceed- 
 ingly treacherous on the score of collars and stock- 
 ings, who persisted in mopping the kitchen floor 
 with the dish-towel, or spicing the apple pies with 
 pepper, or plunging the knives into hot water? 
 Any lingering remains of scepticism may be dis- 
 sipated by observing with what fatal facility the 
 kitchen dynasties are overthrown, — the O'Fla- 
 hertys, the O'Mulligans, and the O'Bradys strut- 
 ting their little hour upon the stage, in brilliant 
 and rapid succession, and then seen no more. 
 
 The inefficiency of servants has been made the 
 topic of female conversation till it has become 
 proverbial, and no wonder. It is, perhaps, the 
 greatest evil with which the American house- 
 keeper has to contend. Nerves, temper, health 
 itself, are worn out in the unceasing conflict with 
 blundering heads and awkward hands ; and after 
 Mrs. Jones has borne the burden and heat of the 
 day, she is surely entitled to whatever crumb of 
 comfort she can find in the fact that Mrs. Smith 
 is fighting, inch by inch, in the same good cause. 
 Mr. Jones may be somewhat tired of hearing the 
 changes rung on this one theme, but it is a safety- 
 valve which he will do well to think twice before 
 closing, either by petulance or ridicule. 
 
 To deny the existence or extent of the evil, is 
 useless. That there is a great wrong, or a great 
 many little wrongs, somewhere, is an obvious fact. 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 337 
 
 To charge home these wrongs to their authors 
 would be, however, a difficult task. Many wo- 
 men consider themselves innocent martyrs to 
 Irish incapacity, and would be shocked at the 
 slightest insinuation of blame on their own part. 
 Nevertheless, in many cases, the mistress is more 
 at fault than the servant. 
 
 Under the old Jewish Theocracy, the rights of 
 servants were recognized, their family membership 
 acknowledged, and their comforts cared for. How 
 much of this is true in our day ? We complain 
 that our servants render us mere eye-service, but 
 do we deserve any other ? Do we seek to estab- 
 lish any other relation than that of employer and 
 Employed ? Do we remember that God hath 
 made us of one blood, — that they are our broth- 
 ers and sisters, influenced like ourselves by love 
 and fear and hope, travelling with us to one judg- 
 ment-seat, to be judged by one Lord, who was 
 crucified alike for them and for us ? Do we re- 
 member that by so much as we are superior to 
 them in position, education, and character, by so 
 much is their welfare in our care while our sphere 
 intersects theirs, — that we are just as truly, if not 
 just as far, responsible for them as for our chil- 
 dren ? We believe in the efficacy of prayer, yet 
 many gather morning and evening in the pleas- 
 ant parlor, and commend themselves, their wives, 
 and their little ones to the care of the Heavenly 
 Father, and pray for the prosperity of Zion and 
 15 ' V 
 
338 THE LAW OF CHRIST, 
 
 the coming of Christ's kingdom, while " the girl " 
 plods on her wearisome way in the kitchen, be- 
 yond hearing, perhaps beyond thought. I know 
 that the priests are said sometimes to forbid at- 
 tendance on family worship; but let us at least 
 ascertain that this is the case with our own par- 
 ticular servants, before we refuse or neglect to cast 
 around them the shelter of our daily prayer. 
 
 Again, do we on the Sabbath day remember the 
 commandment. Thou shalt do no work, thou, nor 
 thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant ? Do we 
 so arrange their duties that they can attend church 
 at least half the day ? We may believe that their 
 faith is corrupt, but it is better than none. Not 
 even a Romish priest so bars the doors of heaven 
 that a humble, penitent soul cannot enter. Even if 
 it were otherwise, we have no right to appropriate 
 the time which God has given them for holy time. 
 As far as in us lies, we should see that they keep 
 the Sabbath holy, but at any rate we ought to be 
 sure that they have a Sabbath to keep holy. 
 
 We complain of the gregarious habits of our 
 servants. We dole out the weekly or semiweekly 
 leave of absence, and wonder they can be so in- 
 considerate as to ask an occasional extra evening. 
 We look suspiciously on their visitors, and some- 
 times go so far as to forbid them to receive their 
 friends. It is true that they often do have a 
 remarkable number of dead relatives, whose fu- 
 neral rites they are called on to perform, and 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 339 
 
 of burly " cousins " with filthy pipes and a rich 
 brogue, — nor is it agreeable to h^ve a "wake" 
 in the kitchen every night. If our kitchen- 
 girls were only cooking-machines; patented by 
 " Wheeler and Wilson," wholesale restrictions 
 would do very well. But as they are endowed 
 with throbbing, yearning, hungry human hearts, 
 the Gordian knot is not to be slashed in that way. 
 Even people, with all the aid of books, music, 
 games, family joys, and common interests, find 
 an evening now and then hang heavily on their 
 hands. How, then, can we condemn an ignorant 
 girl, barren of mental resources, with small pleas- 
 ure in the past, and small hope for the future, to a 
 dreary, desolate solitude ? " The pity of it, lago, 
 the pity of it." There is a golden mean between 
 solitude and dissipation. A servant might give 
 you the names and residences of half a dozen of 
 her friends. If their character is good, let her 
 receive their visits as often as their mistresses will 
 allow them to come. She should understand, in 
 this and in other matters, that you are acting for 
 her interests as well as your own. This involves 
 some trouble, to be sure, but it is in the end far 
 less trouble to take the bull by the horns, than 
 to be forever tossed on those horns. 
 
 If we wush our children to be happy at home, 
 we try to make home attractive. Does the same 
 principle obtain with servants ? Do we ever 
 think of making a home at all for them ? Is a 
 
340 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 room made pleasant for their reception ? A few 
 yards of straw^ matting, a few rolls of ninepenny 
 paper, a cotton table-cover, one or two engrav- 
 ings, a cheap vase, a whole looking-glass, a plain 
 rocking-chair, a pair of white curtains, do not 
 cost much, — the price of a fall bonnet will pay 
 for them all, — yet what a change would they 
 work in most "girls' rooms." When we complain 
 that our servants loiter over their work, dragging 
 through twelve hours what might as well be done 
 in six, we should do well to consider whether 
 we offer them any inducement to finish it earlier. 
 Have they anything pleasant to look forward to, 
 or must they simply sit down among the pots and 
 kettles over which they have been working all 
 day ? If they can read, do we take any pains to 
 provide them with books or papers suited to their 
 capacity, and thus incite them to despatch ? If 
 they cannot read, do we encourage them to learn, 
 or offer to teach them ? If their work is well 
 done, do we notice it, or do we confine our super- 
 intendence to reproving them when it is ill done ? 
 Before we accuse them of want of neatness, 
 have we furnished them with facilities for being 
 neat ? If we should recommend with voice and 
 water and towels and a temperate atmosphere 
 daily or weekly batlis ; if we should notice or sug- 
 gest a becoming arrangement of the hair, or the 
 improving effect of a collar ; if we should advise 
 in the choice of a dress ; in short, if we should 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 341 
 
 feel and show an interest in them as belonging to 
 the same great family, I think we should be repaid 
 a hundred fold. 
 
 The subject is one of greater importance than 
 we are apt to suppose. The Irish form no incon- 
 siderable part of our population, and a very large 
 majority of the house-servants of New England 
 belong to this soundly-abused class. They are 
 in our families, mingling more or less with our 
 children. They have a mighty, though indirect 
 and silent power. If we do not influence them 
 for good, they will surely influence us for evil. 
 Surely they can be made a blessing both to us 
 and to themselves. That they are here in such 
 numbers, is a fact not without significance. They 
 have an open-heartedness which is fascinating, — 
 strong affections which are proof against neglect 
 and abuse, — vivacity, versatility, sprightliness, 
 wit, humor, and a certain eloquence, a graphic 
 power of language, which goes down to the depth 
 of our hearts, bringing up laughter and tears. 
 They are capable of noble deeds, of heroic lives ; 
 but they come to us diamonds in the rough, with 
 all their poverty, ignorance, and superstition cling- 
 ing around them. Yet the Lord will surely re- 
 quire them at our hand, in the day when he shall 
 make up his jewels. 
 
 Therefore should our lives be to them a con- 
 stant gospel. Our superior education and refine- 
 ment, and, more than all, our religion, should 
 
342 THE LAW OF CHRIST, 
 
 bring forth fruit in forbearance, benevolence, 
 kindness, gentleness, and love. 
 
 Considerateness is indispensable, if the family 
 wheels are to go smoothly. Without it there 
 will be constant creaking. Yet a man will work 
 all day, and come home and give all his money 
 to his wife, and pride himself on her judgment 
 in using it, and rejoice in her handsome dress 
 and comfortable appointments, who will yet con- 
 stantly annoy her by leaving a door open. A 
 woman will devote herself to her husband with 
 unwearied self-sacrifice in the way of consulting 
 his tastes, keeping his clothes in order, tending 
 him when he is sick, with a great deal more than 
 the assiduity of a slave, and yet spoil everything, 
 and throw him into a periodic fever, by having 
 dinner ten or fifteen minutes late. It is on tli£se 
 little things that happiness hinges. Very few 
 women run away from their husbands ; very fcAV 
 men poison their wives, — few, that is, compared 
 with those that do not, though a good many have 
 been trying their hand at it in these latter days. 
 •It is the little foxes that get together and gnaw 
 and gnaw till the beautiful vine that went up sd 
 bravely to meet the sun lies an unsightly wreck. 
 Even one little fox can do a great deal of mischief, 
 if he only keeps at it. 
 
 When a man and woman dwell in the same 
 house, are called by the same name, and have 
 the same interests, they seem to think that the 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 343 
 
 laws of nature come to an end. Causes no longer 
 produce effects, nor do effects flow from causes. 
 Water will run up-hill, and chimneys will not 
 smoke, though the flues be deranged, and corn 
 will grow without being planted. They are no 
 longer acquaintances and friends and human be- 
 ings, with tastes that can be offended, and feelings 
 that can be outraged, and sensitiveness that must 
 be respected, and whims that are to be managed. 
 They are a moral anomaly. They are lovers, 
 and love is a self-made and self-perpetuating affair, 
 with which they have nothing to do except to 
 draw on it for every occasion. So, while the nov- 
 elty lasts, and their oneness is something pretty 
 to look at, and delightful to think of, and inex- 
 pressibly sweet in its freshness, tliey are thoughtful 
 and polite ; but when that is well over, and the 
 real wear and tear comes, and they need all the 
 love they can possibly marshal to keep life fi'om 
 degenerating into "What shall we eat, what shall 
 we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed ? " 
 then they become careless about the small, sweet 
 courtesies, let all the little pores through which 
 love should filter be stopped up, and, passing 
 through the valley of Baca, there are no wells. 
 
 It has sometimes seemed to me that, after all, 
 there is not very much love between husbands and 
 wives. I suppose that remark will be received 
 with a howl of execration, and I hurry to compro- 
 mise and conciliate by saying that undoubtedly 
 
344 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 there is a great deal, only it lies below the surface. 
 I am quite sure, however, that if men and women 
 showed to each other no more attention and ten- 
 derness and interest before marriage than some 
 of them do after, they would not have been mar- 
 ried at all. Before marriage, it would be cold- 
 ness, and would result in separation ; afterwards, 
 it is dormant love, and all right. Man is not, 
 however, generally supposed to be a hibernating 
 animal, and the ingenuous mind detects an incon- 
 sistency. As his hunger and thirst, his relish for 
 books and business and society and honors and 
 money, remain in active operation, it is difficult to 
 see why his love should go into winter-quarters. 
 
 Women are less at fault in this matter than men. 
 Their love does not generally become torpid so 
 soon as that of men, and when it does, it is more 
 easily awakened. This is attributable partly to 
 nature, and partly to circumstance, as well as to 
 some other things. Men are more selfish than 
 women. The sphere in which they move has a 
 tendency to make them so. The woman forgets 
 herself in the little lives around her. She is occu- 
 pied with the care of those who, but for her care, 
 would die. She is in the midst of ignorant, inno- 
 cent, unthinking little souls, who take no thought 
 not only for the morrow, but for the to-day. They 
 know nothing, and care nothing, about their own 
 welfare ; and the mother's heart embraces them 
 all, and lives in them all. The man is surrounded 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 345 
 
 by men, strong, active, eager, keen, — all looking 
 out for Number One. He must look out for 
 Number One also, or Number One will not be 
 looked out for. Other people have their hands 
 full with their own interests. So he contracts a 
 habit of making self prominent. It is true that 
 wife and children are comprised in that self, but 
 often in a latent way. If misfortune or disgrace 
 meet him, the thought of wife and child makes 
 it tenfold bitter; but ordinarily, as he occupies 
 himself with his business from day to day, these 
 home thoughts do not suggest themselves. He 
 would probably be just as diligent in business, just 
 as anxious to succeed, even if there were no home 
 circle dependent on him. 
 
 Therefore, when he comes home at night, the 
 day's habit comes with him. He will be likely to 
 forget the changed atmosphere, and will go on 
 looking out for the comfort, as he has been all day 
 looking out for the interest, of Number One. If 
 he remembers the change, he will remember it in 
 the way of reflecting that he has been hard at 
 work all day for his family, and now he wishes to 
 be waited upon and to take his ease. He expects 
 to be harried in his business, and lays out for it ; 
 but when he gets home, he desires peace and 
 quiet, and to have everything suit him. He con- 
 siders himself the Sir Oracle of the concern, and 
 when he opes his mouth, he does not want any 
 little, dogs to bark in opposition. 
 
 15* 
 
348 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 This is the way he has a tendency to look at it, 
 nor does it necessarily imply that he is totally de- 
 praved ; yet there is another side. 
 
 In point of real trial to temper, nerves, and 
 patience, there is no comparison to be made be- 
 tween a woman's duties and a man's. As I sit, I 
 hear the click of a shoemaker's hammer. From 
 morninsc till nicrht it seems never at rest. The 
 shoemaker leads a laborious life, but how steadfast 
 and calm ! He drives the peg, and he knows it 
 will go in. He made so many shoes yesterday, he 
 will make so many to-day. At just such a time 
 he will go home to dinner, with just such an amount 
 of work accomplished. But his wife, busy in her 
 kitchen, has a baby who is governed by no laws, 
 and upsets all her calculations. If he sleeps 
 through the morning, she will spring through her 
 washing and ironing and boiling and baking ; but 
 if he awakes, as he probably will at the most crit- 
 ical moment, everything has to give way. It is of 
 no use to plan, for a chubby fist knocks down all 
 her arrangements. Her baby is the most despotic 
 of' all tyrants ; he has not the slightest -regard for 
 public opinion. It is of no manner of importance 
 to him whether the fire goes out, and the room 
 is swept, or not. If he wishes to be rocked, 
 he must be, regardless of consequences. Then 
 very likely there are three or four more little ones 
 who must be washed and dressed and fed, besides 
 having dress and food prepared for them. If they 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 347 
 
 are all in the soundest health, they need constant 
 watchfulness ; for children are unlike pegs. They 
 will not go where they belong. They are constant- 
 ly making little lunges right and left, and getting 
 into mischief. Pluck them out of the sugar-firkin, 
 and they tumble straightway into the molasses-jug. 
 If there is a cistern on the premises, they will be 
 sure to plunge in sooner or later ; and if there is 
 no cistern, it shall go hard but they will find 
 a tub of water, somewhere, large enough to sit 
 down in. Scissors and knives — everything that 
 has an edge to it — draw them as if they were 
 made of steel. A perverse prompting moves them 
 to pound everything that can be hurt by pounding, 
 and scratch and cut and tear according to the re- 
 spective sensibilities of the object. So it goes, 
 even when they are well ; but when, besides this, 
 we think of the great army of measles, and scarlet- 
 fever, and chicken-pox, and mumps, and colic, and 
 cholera infantum, and inoculation, and teething, 
 that lie in wait for the young immortal and his 
 mother, the prospect is appalling; for the brunt 
 of it all comes on the mother. What is true of the 
 shoemaker and his wife is true of the blacksmith 
 and his wife, and the tailor and his wife. I know 
 that there are occupations which are more complex, 
 and demand the exercise of all the powers. But 
 the merchant and the lawyer, however absorbing 
 and perplexing may be their avocations, have to 
 do'with grown-up people. The merchant's clerks 
 
348 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 are often quite as gentlemanlike and well educated 
 as himself. His brother merchants are acute and 
 self-involved, but reasonable. The lawyer's client 
 may be ignorant and stubborn, but he is an ac- 
 countable being, and swayed by a homely, but 
 powerful logic ; but the wife is the mistress of ser- 
 vants inexperienced, even when well disposed, and 
 the mother of terrible infants. Let a man try 
 to work with such tools, and such encumbrances, 
 and see how he succeeds. 
 
 It is true that a man's responsibilities are, in one 
 sense, greater. If he makes a misstep, he brings 
 down with him partner, clerks, wife, and children, 
 sometimes shaking even church and society; while 
 the woman may let this, that, and the other duty 
 slip, and the sky does not fall. But on the other 
 hand, it is the greatness of the matter at stake 
 which supports the man, and its littleness that 
 disheartens the woman. She has the same round 
 
 — perpetually changing, yet perpetually the same 
 
 — of little cares and duties, which cannot be dis- 
 pensed with, yet which never seem to amount to 
 anything. It is all very well to cajole her with 
 " fashioning the young mind," and " training the 
 hand that is to guide the world," and " modelling 
 the greatness of the next age," but it is a long 
 way to the next age, and when the future states- 
 man comes crying to his mother with Spalding's 
 Prepared Glue cleaving to his face and hair and 
 clean apron, and his fingers bleeding from the cuts 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 349 
 
 of the broken bottle, it is difficult to perceive that 
 
 " The spirit that there lies sleeping novr 
 May rise like a giant, and make men bow, 
 As to one heaven-chosen amongst his peers." 
 
 How, then, can a man who professes to be a 
 Christian come home from his office, or shop, or 
 field, to his nervous, hurried, anxious, care-worn 
 wife, and harshly or coldly ask why dinner is n't 
 ready, or what in the world she lets those children 
 make such a noise for ? Women are often exhort- 
 ed to meet their husbands with a smile ; but what 
 manner of value has a smile on the lips, if there 
 be not a smile at the heart ; and what manner of 
 man is he who wishes his wife to crush back all 
 her tears into her own bosom, and put on a mask 
 for him? Is marriage to be a keeping up of ap- 
 pearances ? Can love be retained only by a mas- 
 querade ? Is a husband something that must be 
 daintily fed, and gingerly managed, from whom 
 the thorns must be hidden, and for whom the roses 
 must blow, and, if they will not blow, wax flowers 
 must be manufactured ? Surely not. At the ba- 
 sis of true marriage is truth. It is life, and not 
 dilettanteism, that glows on the household hearth. 
 If a man has manhood, he wants his wife just as 
 she is, — whims, sorrows, vexations, and all. He 
 does not want to be deceived by a papier-mache 
 image, gotten up for the occasion. If things have 
 gone smoothly, and she meets him with a smile, it 
 is very charming. But if Johnny is threatened 
 
350 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 with croup, and the baby is cross, and Bridget has 
 given notice of leaving next day, he is not selfish 
 enough to expect her to forget all this, or to wish 
 her to gloss it over and deceive him by pretending 
 to be happy when she is not. There are many 
 times when it will be better for him, and better for 
 her, that he should open his arms and let her have 
 " a good cry," and even if he is a little sentimental 
 and babyish, it will not cause any permanent harm. 
 This will soothe and calm her irritated nerves, and 
 they will talk it over, and so love will bridge the 
 chasm, and tunnel the mountain, and chain the 
 lions ; for the heart that loveth is not only willing, 
 but able. And the wifely tenderness will be made 
 so strong and grateful, that when the husband 
 comes home next day, in his turn irritated, de- 
 pressed, and savage, as "real good" husbands can 
 be, she will not heed his moodiness and surliness, 
 but will knead him, and mould him, and make him 
 over, so deftly that he will not know he has been 
 touched, till he finds himself sitting clothed and 
 in his right mind. 
 
 Waiting in a milliner's shop the other day, I no- 
 ticed a nice little woman standing before one of 
 the counters, and a nice little baby, two or three 
 years old, perched upon it in front. The eager 
 mother was trying on, first one, and then another, 
 of the little pink and blue and white marvels of 
 hats, unable to decide which set off her darling's 
 blue eyes and fat cheeks best. It was a very pret- 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 351 
 
 ty sight. Her whole heart was in the work just 
 as much as General Scott's is in his, and the air 
 with which she would pick out the broad bows, 
 and give the hat a little pull and knock, and then 
 stand off to get the effect, bespoke an indescribable 
 self-satisfaction, or rather baby-satisfaction, — and 
 there, through all the pretty panorama of motherly 
 love of baby, and womanly love of bonnets, stood 
 her tall husband, looking as cross as could be. 
 Presently she held up one of the hats before him, 
 and said, half deprecatingly, '' It 's three and a 
 half!" And the moody fellow only answered, 
 " Get what vou 're a mind to, Z don't care ! " and 
 put his hands in his pockets, and sauntered to the 
 door. 
 
 If that man a year or two before his marriage 
 had been allowed to go into the same shop with 
 that woman, how different would have been his 
 demeanor ! How ignorantly interested he would 
 have been in every detail, how sweetly silly in his 
 suggestions, how slavishly acquiescent in hers I 
 *' I don't care," indeed ! A refusal graciously 
 and Christianly given might have carried more 
 happiness than this surly permission. 
 
 A short time after, I happened to hear another 
 of the exemplary little wives with whom the 
 country is full say to her husband, " Charley, had 
 I better wear my rubbers ? " And the man had 
 the depravity to look up from his newspaper and 
 growl, '' You know what the weather is, and you 
 
352 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 know what kind of shoes you Ve got. What is 
 the use of asking me ? " But such a question be- 
 fore marriage would not have been referred back 
 in that way. It is reasonable to conjecture that 
 his reply would have expressed some fond, but en- 
 tirely unnecessary alarm, supplemented by his own 
 drawing on of the rubbers with a half playful, 
 half tender remark about " the little feet," — if 
 he did not descend into the lower depth of " foot- 
 sey tootsey." I remember the dark eyes, the 
 shining, abundant curls, the pure complexion, the 
 graceful figure, the sprightly fancy, the vivacity 
 and wit and kindness and generosity, — the count- 
 less charms and virtues of a brilliant and beautiful 
 girl. She married a man of ability, education, 
 wealth, and position. Shortly after her marriage, 
 — only a little while, — a time that could scarcely 
 be measured by years, — a gentleman who had 
 known her in her glad maidenhood visited her ; 
 and as he came out from the stately house, with all 
 its luxurious appurtenances, he sighed gloomily^ to 
 himself : 
 
 " They 've made her a grave too cold and damp 
 For a soul so vparm and true." 
 
 It is not poverty, or riches, or ease, or hardship, 
 or health, or sickness, that makes women sad or 
 glad. 
 
 It is neither desirable nor difficult to multiply 
 examples. I only mention these because they are 
 additional illustrations of the statement that men, 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. B53 
 
 a very large proportion of men, are much less care- 
 ful to please their wives than they were to please 
 their sweethearts ; and also because I have one 
 more remark to make on the same subject. The 
 remark is exclusively for men. No woman need 
 read this article any further. If men are not 
 guilty, what I shall say will do them no hurt. If 
 they are guilty, I do not suppose it will do them 
 much good ; but there are some things that will 
 not rest till they are said. 
 
 The remark is this : Leaving out of view all 
 question of religion, or chivalry, or decency, and 
 looking from the lowest stand-point, it remains a 
 fact that love, as well as honesty, is the best pol- 
 icy. If men were wise, they would see that 
 the surest way to gain even their selfish ends is 
 kindness. If a man's object is his own, and not 
 his wife's happiness, the best way to get it is to do 
 just what he would do if his wife's happiness were 
 the object. In this case, as in many, perhaps in 
 all others, utter selfishness and utter benevolence 
 are at one in the means they employ. That is, 
 the thing which will do the most good, on the 
 whole, to others, will do the most good to one's 
 self. A wife will keep her husband's house, and 
 train his children, if he is indifferent, or thoufiht- 
 less, or unkind ; she will perhaps love him too, 
 for women have a way of worshipping the temple 
 where their idol dwelt, long after the idol has 
 fallen, face downward, on the threshold, — an 
 
354 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 unfortunate habit, I cannot help thinking, for if a 
 man feels that his wife will love him whether or 
 no, he will naturally be less careful to make him- 
 self lovely. If he could be brought to under- 
 stand that his wife's affection depends upon his 
 behavior, and that, when he falls away from grace, 
 she will fall away from love, he would take more 
 pains to be agreeable. But, as I was saying, 
 such love and service are not the love and ser- 
 vice which love and consideration will bring out. 
 Do not men know that to a woman love is a 
 despot ? For her love's sake there are no paths 
 so crooked that she will not make them straight, 
 — no places so rough that she will not make them 
 plain, — no heights she will not level, no tides she 
 will not stem, no perils she will not brave. In 
 her love she is strong, wise, brave, patient, untir- 
 ing, ingenious, — I had almost said, invincible. 
 Nor are women, as a general thing, exacting. 
 They do not demand constant or foolish petting. 
 Only let a woman be sure that she is precious to 
 her husband, — not useful, not valuable, not con- 
 venient simply, but lovely and beloved ; let her be 
 the recipient of his polite and hearty attentions ; 
 let her feel that her care and love are noticed and 
 appreciated and returned ; let her opinion be 
 asked, her approval sought, and her judgment re- 
 spected in matters of which she is cognizant ; in 
 short, let her only be loved, honored, and cher- 
 ished, in fulfilment of the marriage vow, and she 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 355 
 
 will be to her husband and her children and to 
 society a well-spring of pleasure. She will bear 
 pain and toil and anxiety, for her husband's love 
 is to her a tower and a fortress. Shielded and 
 sheltered therein, adversity will have lost its sting. 
 She may suffer, but sympathy will dull the edge 
 of her sorrow. A house with love in it — and by 
 love I mean love expressed in words and looks and 
 deeds, for I have not one spark of faith in the love 
 that never crops out — is to a house without love 
 as a person to a machine. The one is life, the 
 other is mechanism. The unloved woman may 
 have bread just as light, a house just as tidy, as the 
 other, but the latter has a spring about her, a joy- 
 ousness, an aggressive and penetrating and pervad- 
 ing brightness, to which the former is a stranger. 
 The deep happiness at her heart shines out in her 
 face. She is a ray of sunlight in the house. She 
 gleams all over it. It is airy and gay and graceful 
 and warm and welcoming with her presence. She 
 is full of devices and plots and sweet surprises for 
 her husband and her family. She has never done 
 with the romance and poetry of life. She is her- 
 self a lyric poem, setting, herself to all pure and 
 gracious melodies. Humble household ways and 
 duties have for her a golden significance. The 
 prize makes the calling high, and the end dignifies 
 the mean^. Her home is a paradise, not* sinless, 
 nor painless, but still a paradise ; for " love is 
 heaven, and heaven is love." 
 
356 THE LAW OF CHRIST. 
 
 Why will men not see the priceless jewel that 
 can be their sure possessing ? How can a man be 
 willing to bind to himself a body of death, — to 
 walk through the dreary years with a heavy- 
 hearted, duty-bound, care-burdened, disappointed 
 woman, to whom life has become a monotonous 
 round of uninteresting necessities, when, by a time- 
 ly thoughtfulness, a little attention, a little love 
 lovingly expressed, he might secure the constant, 
 healing, beautiful ministrations of 
 
 " a spirit, bright 
 
 With something of an angel light " ? 
 
 It is madness to let slip away a love so rich in 
 blessing, so easily retained, so capable of bound- 
 less broadening and deepening and strengthen- 
 ing, — yet men continually do it. Reaching 
 out after wealth, they grasp pebbles, and trample 
 under their feet the " mountain of light." Look- 
 ing for ease, they push aside the downy couch, and 
 lay their cheeks upon a pillow set with thorns. 
 Unutterably blind, they will not see the angel that 
 folds its white wings by their fireside, and with in- 
 sane presumption they brush roughly against their 
 heavenly visitant, or with equally insane indiffer- 
 ence turn coldly away from it, till the pure robes are 
 defiled, the white wings droop, and the sad angel 
 fades away forever. O the phantoms of dead joys 
 that flit' through unhaunted houses ! O the hopes 
 that lie buried under still lighted hearthstones ! O 
 the murdered possibilities strewn thick along the 
 
THE LAW OF CHRIST. 357 
 
 ways, over the lowlands and the uplands of life, — 
 stark corses to which no Messiah shall ever say, 
 " Arise ! " Through all the land you shall scarce- 
 ly find a house in which there is not one dead. 
 There is no speech nor language ; their voice is 
 not heard ; but the shore is sorrowful with the 
 wreck of brave barques ; the sea is dark with 
 ships that started proudly, — every banner stream- 
 ing from the mast-head, every sail spread to catch 
 the smallest gale, — but that lie now dismantled 
 and becalmed in the dead sea of Sargossa, or float 
 listlessly down the unreckoning tide, or rush wildly 
 over the rocks to swift destruction. 
 
XII. 
 
 PRAYING. 
 
 'RAYING is one of those things about 
 which it seems useless to argue. Noth- 
 ing is easier than to make out a case 
 against its necessity, or benefit, or rea- 
 sonableness. Any one can say that, if God indeed 
 arranged matters before the foundation of the 
 world, he will not be turned aside by the wishes 
 of people who very often do not know what 
 it is that they wish, and who consequently make 
 the most unreasonable requests ; and any one can 
 answer back, that in this original arrangement 
 allowance might have been made for praying, 
 — that our prayers may be as truly a part of 
 the gearing of the universe as events, and that 
 consequently, so far from being useless, they are 
 essential. But this is not the strong point. It is 
 enough to say, and to know, that God has com- 
 manded it. Though we should see no resulting 
 good, we should submit to, and have faith in, a 
 
PRAYING. 359 
 
 " Thus saith tlie Lord." Furthermore, we all, 
 whether we do or do not believe that prayer ef- 
 fects any outward results, do implicitly believe 
 that its reflex influence is beneficial. We know 
 that the state of mind and heart which sincere 
 prayer produces, is favorable to love and hope 
 and faith and humility and benevolence, and all 
 virtue. It cannot be supposed that God would 
 lure us to prayer by false pretences, — hold out 
 answer to prayer as the main inducement to 
 prayer, — while in fact the prayer has no bear- 
 ing whatever on the object prayed for; that we 
 should have it or not, just the same, whether we 
 did or did not pray for it, and although we do 
 derive benefit from it, it is an entirely different 
 benefit from the one held out to us. The idea is 
 monstrous. It is an insult to the purity and in- 
 tegrity of the Deity. How could He w^ho forbids 
 us to do evil that good may come, do it himself? 
 Would it be consonant to his character to lead us 
 to the performance of a duty by a falsehood, while 
 the truth, if known, would make the duty absurd ? 
 If any one thing is plainly taught in the Bible, 
 it is that prayer will be answered. Nor is the 
 argument less strong, even if we reject the in- 
 spiration of the Bible. So long as we admit that 
 prayer has a beneficent reflex influence, we are 
 constrained to admit that human nature is so con- 
 structed that an act which is a continual and stu- 
 pendous absurdity is a continual and stupendous 
 
360 PRAYING. 
 
 refiner, strengthener, purifier, — which is of itself 
 as great an absurdity, to say the least, as any faith 
 in answer to prayer. The Bible and our own 
 inner life harmonize in inculcating the duty of 
 prayer. 
 
 Secondly, there is a wide diversity of opinion as 
 to the things we should pray for. Many think 
 that spiritual good is the only legitimate object of 
 prayer. Others admit the actual, physical needs 
 of life, sustenance, and shelter, but are rather 
 shocked at the idea of asking for pleasures, or 
 going into particulars of any kind ; but neither the 
 precepts nor example of the Bible, nor the nature 
 of God nor of prayer, justify this. God is as infi- 
 nite in small matters as he is in great. It is a false 
 and assumed dignity which despises the little things 
 of life. True dignity can be sportive without be- 
 ing frivolous. We think the sparrows in our fields 
 and the hairs in our heads to be very small mat- 
 ters, quite too insignificant to occupy the time and 
 attention of Him who made the heavens and the 
 earth ; yet He numbers the one, and notices the 
 other, nor for that do the worlds wheel any the 
 less grandly down their appointed paths, nor is the 
 music of the spheres jarred by one clang of discord. 
 In a deeper and truer sense than the old Pagan 
 knew, God in a thousand ways declares, " I think 
 nothing human to be foreign to me." Therefore 
 let us come boldly unto the throne of grace, that 
 we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in 
 
PRAYING. 361 
 
 time of need, — whether the need be of the heart, 
 or head, or arm, or purse. 
 
 Yet I have observed that, v^^hen we pray for some 
 special temporal object, God often seems to answer 
 the prayer in the letter, but not in the spirit. For 
 instance, you pray that you may succeed in busi- 
 ness and amass wealth, and you do ; but your heart 
 becomes hardened thereby, and your business is a 
 millstone about your neck. You have set your 
 heart on your boy's getting through college with 
 the highest honors, and he does, but broken in 
 health, and fit only for an untimely grave. You 
 pray for strength and opportunity to accomplish 
 a certain journey, and they are given you, but 
 it turns out that tlie journey would better never 
 have been made. If God were man, we should 
 say we were overreached. He keeps his word in 
 the letter, but breaks it in the spirit. We wish to 
 make the journey, but it is for a certain purpose. 
 God gives us the journey which we ask for, but de- 
 feats the purpose which we assume that he knows. 
 But God is divinely upright, and there must be 
 something behind what we see. J infer that God, 
 seeing things as we do not see them, answers our 
 prayers sometimes by giving us not what we ask 
 for, but what is best for us, — which we all admit 
 is a complete fulfilment of the compact, — and 
 sometimes by giving us the very things we ask for, 
 to our own immediate disadvantage or discomfit- 
 ure, in order to show us that we would better leave 
 
 16 
 
362 PRAYING. 
 
 these things to him. What is best for us in a tem- 
 poral point of view, we do not know, and therefore 
 I think he would rather have us lean on him, and 
 trust in him, not setting our hearts on this, that, 
 and the other thing; and though, in our weariness 
 and heaviness and heart-soreness, he is not dis- 
 pleased that we cry out sorrowfully to him, " If it 
 be possible, let this cup pass from me," yet he will 
 fold us more tenderly in the arms of his loving- 
 kindness if we meekly add, " Nevertheless, not 
 as I will, but as thou wilt." 
 
 Praying is a duty, because God has commanded 
 it. More than this, it is a privilege, because God 
 has permitted it. Sometimes, by too long looking 
 at the duty, we forget the privilege. It is better 
 to do a rio;ht thino; because we are forced to do it, 
 than not to do it at all ; but better still is it to do 
 it because we like it. The law was our school- 
 master, but in the Gospel 
 
 " Joy is duty, and love is law." 
 
 We have our stated seasons for prayer, and then 
 we stop. Morning and evening we bow the knee 
 before God, and the thing is done. We feel happy 
 because our duty is performed, and it 2S, and the 
 resultant happiness is natural and right. But 
 prayer means a great deal more than this. There 
 are no set hours during which the Lord holds 
 court, and hears cases. His ear is always atten- 
 tive. His hand is ever ready. His mercies are 
 
PRAYING. 363 
 
 not only new every morning and fresh every 
 evening, but noon and night overflow with them. 
 Hour calls unto hour to bear witness to the 
 goodness of the Lord in the land of the living ; 
 and 
 
 " Hourly as new mercies fall, 
 Let hourly thanks arise." 
 
 We need to cultivate a praying spirit. We 
 want the morning orison and the evening thanks- 
 giving, but we want more. The communication 
 between heaven and earth should be always open. 
 Prayer should be a state as well as an act. It 
 should be natural, spontaneous, involuntary. It 
 should be 
 
 " The Christian's vital breath, 
 The Christian's native air." 
 
 It is well to have a time specially appropriated to 
 prayer; but if that is all, the supply cannot answer 
 the demand. After your morning prayer, you 
 feel strengthened, refreshed, at peace Avith God 
 and man, — ready for life's work ; but it will not 
 last. Virtue cannot be bottled up and kept on 
 hand ready for future emergencies. The fibre lasts, 
 but the pungency disappears. By the time you 
 want to use it, it is good for nothing. Prayer in 
 the morning is good for just what it is worth, — 
 that is, it begins the day Avell ; but it needs to be 
 continually renewed. You pray in the morning 
 for patience to meet all the trials of the day ; and 
 the little bov sucro-ested to his flither that he should 
 
364 PRAYING. 
 
 save time by saying grace over the pork-barrel. 
 One is about as sensible as the other, — both good 
 as far as they go, but God gives us grace by piece- 
 meal. He enjoins us to pray without ceasing. 
 We ought to be in so constant communication with 
 him, that whenever a slight trial comes, whether 
 of faith, or patience, or love, and whenever a little 
 blessing flutters its white wings softly over our 
 heads, we shall immediately, naturally, without 
 preamble, or circumlocution, or hesitation, or stop- 
 page, lift up our hearts to God. Thus only can 
 we obtain all things which God prepares for us. 
 He has opened for us the fountain of the water 
 of life. If we draw only at intervals, even 
 though they be regular, we shall often walk 
 athirst. We should keep the little rills always 
 trickling thence into our hearts, that so there 
 shall be in us a well of water springing up into 
 everlastino; life. 
 
 God might have made us differently, but he did 
 not. He might have made our bodies so that one 
 whiflp of fresh air in the bemnnino- should sustain us 
 through life, or we might have taken oxygen as 
 we do food, three times a day ; and he might have 
 formed our hearts and minds so that a daily, or 
 w^eekly, or yearly recourse to him should be all- 
 sufficient for our wants ; but he chose to make us 
 so that we need to lean on his arm continually, 
 and it is because, when we go out into the fore- 
 front of the battle, where we most need it, wo 
 
PRAYING. 365 
 
 thrust aside that sustaining arm, that we so often 
 faint and fall. "After my prayers, my mind 
 seems touched with humility and love ; but the 
 impression decays so soon ! " said one of the 
 Church's holy ones. One should form the habit 
 of prayer, that all good impressions may be per- 
 manent. 
 
 I see in sundry religious writings a kind of talk 
 which is to me entirely incomprehensible. Good 
 and pious men lament their coldness and want of 
 interest in prayer, — their inability to commune 
 with God. They say that they pray with their 
 lips, and their hearts will not pray. They seek 
 God and do not find him. They have no sense 
 of his presence. They call themselves dead, and 
 hard, and insensible, and their praying gives them 
 no relief. These people, too, are sometimes the 
 great ones of the earth, giants in intellect, saints 
 of whom the world is not worthy ; and it may 
 seem presumptuous in a humbler individual to sit 
 in judgment upon them. Yet a healthy infant is 
 as good a judge of some things as a dyspeptic phi- 
 losopher, and I venture to say that this state of 
 heart and mind is morbid. I do not believe that 
 a healthy mind — one that has never been over- 
 laid, or undermined, or interjected witli cant — 
 one that has been left to its own natural workings 
 and the Spirit of God — one that has drawn its 
 inspiration and instruction from the Bible, and not 
 from the traditions of men — would ever fall into 
 
366 PRAYING. 
 
 any such miserable condition. Just apply com- 
 mon sense to it, for prayer is a common-sense 
 thing, just as much as eating and drinking. What 
 is prayer? Request, thanksgiving, confession of 
 sins, expression of repentance, and love and adora- 
 tion of God. Is prayer anything else than this ? 
 But I see here no opportunity for coldness, or 
 deadness. It would seem to be the very simplest 
 thino; in the world. You have done somethino; 
 wrong, and you wish you had not, and you deter- 
 mine to do so no more. Why not go to God and 
 say so ? You have had a pleasant day ; every- 
 thing has gone well. Why not thank God for it, 
 just as naturally as you thank the friend who 
 sends you the first pansy from his garden ? You 
 see the young Spring standing by the water- 
 courses, and breathing over the meadows, and 
 your soul is filled with admiration of God's great- 
 ness, and love of his goodness, and that is prayer. 
 Where are the deadness, and hardness, and insen- 
 sibility', and all those villanous frames of mind to 
 come in ? If one goes to God in a straightforward 
 wa}', I cannot conceive what there is to make an 
 ado about. God has emphatically and repeatedly 
 declared that if we seek him he will be found of 
 us, and I beheve it. I believe it just as he said 
 it, — without quirk or quibble. But if w^e go 
 seekino- frames of mind instead of him, we shall 
 likely enough find neither what we seek nor what 
 we do not. "• I have not enjoyed communion wdth 
 
PRAYING. 367 
 
 God," says a man whose memoir has perhaps 
 been more extensively circulated than any other, 
 "or else there would not be such strangeness 
 in my heart towards the world to come." But 
 how can our hearts ever be anything but strange 
 towards the world to come? "We have never 
 been there. We never saw any one that had 
 been there. We have no reason to suppose that 
 we have ever been in a world very much like 
 it. God has told us very little about it, and what 
 he has told us only makes it the more strange. 
 He has expressly tried to satisfy us for our slender 
 knowledge, by promising that what we know not 
 now, we shall know hereafter. Of all things in 
 the universe with which we might be expected 
 to be familiar, the next world is the last ; and here 
 is a good man inferring that he cannot have had 
 communion with God, because his heart feels 
 strange towards this unseen and vaguely-described 
 world. 
 
 But why should the fact of our communion 
 with God depend upon any such inference, or 
 any inference at all ? You know whether you 
 are talking with your friend or not. You do 
 not need any results to enlighten you as to the 
 fact. If he is over sea, you are uncertain, because 
 he may be beyond your reach. Even while you 
 are writing, he " may sleep full many a fathom 
 deep"; but the God we worship in very deed 
 dwells ^^ith men forever. He is not talking, or 
 
368 PRAYING. 
 
 pursuing, or in a journey, or peradventure sleep- 
 eth and must be awaked, before he can bear 
 us. He sees us while we are yet a great way 
 off, and has compassion upon us, and comes out 
 to meet us. 
 
 It is true that we do not always feel alike about 
 praying. Sometimes the heart overflows. We 
 see in some special way how God has crowned our 
 year with his goodness, and made our paths drop 
 fatness ; or we catch a sudden glimpse of some 
 hidden sin, and are appalled ; or we covet ear- 
 nestly some good gift, and the tongue is loosened. 
 The heart burns with love, and the eyes grow dim 
 with happy tears. The soul must pour itself out 
 before God, and would fain dwell in his presence 
 forever. At other times we are not moved to 
 special emotion. We know that we love God, 
 and we are grateful in a general way, but we have 
 not a vivid sense of anything in particular. This 
 may be the result of sin, but not necessarily. 
 The fondest husband in the world is not always 
 meditating on his wife's perfections, nor admiring 
 her gentle grace. He is away from her a great 
 part of the day. He is not thinking of her all the 
 time when he is with her, and when he is think- 
 ing of her, he is not always thinking of her sweet 
 eyes and her dear face ; but he loves her straight 
 through, and she knows it, and is content. 
 
 It is evident that, when this is the case, we can- 
 not pray as we should when the case is different. 
 
PRAYING. 369 
 
 The mouth may speak abundantly out of the 
 abundance of the lieart ; but when, for any reason, 
 it is weak, languid, or listless, the mouth should 
 not multiply w^ords. The idea that a prayer must 
 be of any set length in order to be acceptable, 
 is preposterous. Be not deceived. God is not 
 mocked. Not the length, but the depth, of a 
 prayer is the measure of its efficacy. Be sincere. 
 Be in earnest. Be natural in your prayers as in 
 your life. If one has nothing in particular to say, 
 it is not necessary to wrap himself in generalities, 
 for the sake of filling up the time. God wants 
 no such lip-service. Not to such prayers are his 
 eyes open and his ears attent. We may indeed 
 continue all night in prayer to God, and his ear 
 does not wax heavy. But if our burdened hearts 
 can only send up the passionate cry, " Lord, have 
 mercy on me a sinner 1 " we shall go down to our 
 house just as truly justified, nay, if we do but 
 touch the hem of his garment, we shall be made 
 whole. 
 
 I once read of a young negro's being overheard, 
 at his private devotions, to count out his gratitude 
 on this wise : " O Lord, me tank de for food and 
 raiment, for victuals and clothing, but not for de 
 shoe-buckles, for me bought dem wid me own 
 money." Such a prayer would doubtless be 
 heard, and such gratitude accepted by the Lord ; 
 for the one was earnest, and the other sincere. 
 Though the premises and the conclusion may 
 
 16* . X 
 
370 PRAYING. 
 
 have been wrong, the reasoning was correct. If 
 the Lord really did not help him to the shoe- 
 buckles, there certainly was no occasion for 
 thanks in that direction ; and in this one respect 
 his prayer furnishes an example for all. It was 
 discriminating. It meant something, and he 
 knew what. There was no vague, indefinite 
 thanksgiving for equally vague and indefinite 
 blessings ; no pro2:)er, well-ordered words, that 
 meant everything in general and nothing in par- 
 ticular. The negro boy wished to have a distinct 
 understanding on the subject. He was entirely 
 willing to give unto God the things that were 
 God's ; but he wished to have Caesar's things 
 rendered unto Caesar quite as scrupulously, nor 
 did his justice to himself in the least imply nig- 
 gardhness towards God. We can adopt his wis- 
 dom without adopting his theology. 
 
 We render gratitude to God for his mercies, 
 which are " new every morning, and fresh every 
 evening." AVhen we enter upon the duty of 
 thanksgiving, we thank him in a general v/ay 
 for many things. If pressed to make out a list 
 of what it is for which we are thankful, we might 
 answer glibly, " health and plenty, peace and 
 prosperity." But do we know what these are ? 
 Do we know what national disease and famine 
 and war and adversity are ? If we really are 
 grateful to God for health, shall we turn away 
 from his temples, and immediately proceed to de- 
 
PRAYING. 371 
 
 stroy it by over-work, over-play, over-eating, or 
 over-anxiety ? If we indeed thank him for plenty, 
 shall we shut our hearts to the cry of the poor and 
 needy, which comes to us from near and far, the 
 cry of those who lack bread for the body or the 
 soul ? Shall we show how highly we value peace, 
 by sitting at ease around our comfortable fires, 
 wdiile the right struggles without in the grasp of 
 strong and vigilant foes ? Shall we set up pros- 
 perity to be our god, sacrificing to it our noblest 
 principles, our sacred honor ? Shall we not rather 
 invest our talents ? Shall we not prove our wor- 
 thiness to receive a blessing by the use we make, 
 and the care we take, of those already given. It 
 is the good and faithful servant, who has been 
 faithful over few things, that shall be made ruler 
 over many things. 
 
 In our enumeration of our special blessings, the 
 gleam of shoe-buckles is very apt to discover itself. 
 Our plenty and peace and prosperity are the 
 result of our own industry and prudence and 
 wisdom. It is our own hand that has gotten us 
 the victory. We attribute some remote first cause 
 to the Lord, but we take the lion's share of the 
 credit to ourselves. We look abroad upon our 
 vast possessions, the mighty fabric of empire 
 which has sprung up in a night, and exultantly 
 say, — " Is not this great Babylon, that / have 
 built, by the might of my power, and for the 
 honor of my majesty?'' But whence came the 
 
372 PRAYING. 
 
 skill that planned, and the arm that wrought? 
 Who set the rock in its place ? Who formed 
 the mountains, and hollowed out the sea ? Who 
 sunk the iron in its bed, and planted the forests 
 where they grow ? Who pierced the coasts, and 
 poured the rivers from his hand? Nay, who 
 keeps the air in perpetual equipoise, — just so 
 much of this ingredient, just so much of that? 
 A little less density, a little less heat, a little 
 less moisture, and all life would be suddenly 
 extinct. 
 
 The shoe-buckles may have been bought with 
 our own money, but the coin has the Divine 
 image and superscription ; therefore it should be 
 rendered unto God as one of the things that are 
 his. 
 
 In praying for blessings, our innermost sincerity 
 should be tested. We pray for greater light ; do 
 we make the most of the light we already have ? 
 We pray for opportunities to do good ; do we 
 improve the opportunities that constantly present 
 themselves ? We pray for our daily bread ; are 
 we doing our utmost to earn it ? We pray for 
 peace ; do we follow the things that make for 
 peace ? We pray that Christ's kingdom may 
 come ; are we straining every nerve to bring 
 it ? What folly — to call it by no harsher name 
 — is it to implore God to add still further to a 
 blessing of which we already possess more than 
 we use ! To ask him to help us while we are 
 
'PRAYING. 373 
 
 not doing all we can to help ourselves ! To ask 
 him to allay discords which we are careless in 
 fomenting ! To ask him to purify our hearts, and 
 then let evil spirits come in and riot there ! In 
 short, to ask him to do the work which belongs 
 to ourselves, or to give gifts of which we have 
 already sho^vn ourselves unappreciative and un- 
 worthy ! 
 
 No ! Let us not on the one side weary the Lord 
 with our words ; and let us not on the other side 
 dishonor him with slavish fear. He is the Lord 
 God strong and mighty ; he is also the Lord 
 God merciful and gracious. He is a jealous 
 God ; but he is our dearest friend. Eye hath 
 not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered 
 into the heart of man, such love as that wherewith 
 God loves us ; and he behaves towards us as if 
 he loved us. He not only once sent his Son to 
 die for the world because he loved it, but he con- 
 tinually watches over it for the same reason. He 
 wants men to pray to him because he loves them. 
 He does not drag them by violence into his pres- 
 ence, thrust them down upon their knees, com- 
 mand them to pray, to feel, to adore, to have such 
 and such emotions on peril of his wrath. He opens 
 his^ arms to them. " Come, my children, you are 
 weak and weary. The way before you is long. 
 Come, rest with me awhile, and get strength. 
 Come for a little peace and patience and joy. 
 I have enough of everything you need. I can 
 
S74 PRAYING. 
 
 ^ve you all you want. ' Come unto me, all ye 
 that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give 
 you rest.' " And suppose we do come after a 
 hard day's work, exhausted, void of emotion, al- 
 most of desire, will God be angry if we only 
 whisper a good-night prayer ? Is a mother an- 
 gry with her baby who falls asleep in her arms 
 in the middle of her lullaby? And does not 
 God who made us know our frame, and remem- 
 ber that we are dust ? And if he is not strict 
 to mark our iniquities, wdll he be strict to mark 
 our weaknesses ? Oh ! let us be simple and sin- 
 cere. Prayer should not be made a complicated, 
 uncertain, difficult, and elaborate thing. It is too 
 precious, too delightful, too heart-healing, to be 
 turned into a bugbear. 
 
 Old or young, happy or wretched, strong or 
 w^eak, draw nigh unto God, and he will draw nigh 
 unto you. Never mind good people's diaries. 
 Come boldly unto the throne of grace, and find 
 grace to help. Hear his loving-kindness : " Fear 
 thou not, for I am with thee ; be not dismayed, 
 for I am thy God : I will strengthen thee ; yea, I 
 will help thee. And the Lord thy God will hold 
 thy right hand, saying unto thee. Fear not ; I will 
 help thee. When the poor and needy seek water, 
 and there is none, and their tongue faileth for 
 thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of 
 Israel wull not forsake them." 
 
XIII. 
 
 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 HARLES SUMNER, a man who 
 
 makes the name of Senator Illustrious ; 
 who has been truer to the Republic 
 than she has been to herself, inasmuch 
 as, while she has sometimes faltered in the way, 
 suffering herself to be overborne by wicked coun- 
 sels to her own misdoing, he has known no waver- 
 ing in his allegiance, but has always been " true 
 to truth and brave for truth"; who, free from 
 the vulgar ambition of place, is fired with the no- 
 ble ambition of power, but of power based only on 
 what is excellent in himself, and bearing only on 
 what is excellent in others ; who has approved the 
 majesty of right as well as the calm steadfastness 
 of genius, by returning, after years of enforced 
 absence, to the battle-ground, and taking up the 
 sword on the same spot where rage and cowardice 
 and wounded iniqiilty had wrested it from his 
 grasp ; who, deserving well of the Republic for 
 
376 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 services faithfully rendered, and sufferings heroi- 
 cally borne, deserves not less for this, that he has 
 brought down into the arena of politics the culture 
 of the scholar, tlie courtesy of the gentleman, and 
 the catholicity of the Christian, demonstrating 
 thereby that a nation's work needs not to be done 
 with unwashen hands, but that the most devoted 
 patriotism may consist with the widest learning, 
 the truest refinement, and the purest morality, — 
 Charles Sumner, referring, in a recent speech be- 
 fore a popular assembly, to the aggressions of the 
 slave power upon the rights of man, said : " For- 
 giving those who trespass against us, I know not 
 if we should forgive those who trespass against 
 others. Forgiving those who trespass against us, 
 I know not if we should forgive those who trespass 
 against the Republic. Forgiving those who tres- 
 pass against us, I know not if we should forgive 
 those who trespass against God." 
 
 The duty of forgiveness is inculcated in the 
 Bible with no more distinctness than is the fact 
 asserted that certain conditions must precede it. 
 This part we are very apt to forget in theory, and 
 though it will hardly be conceded that men in gen- 
 eral are too ready to forgive injuries, and therefore 
 need to have the conditions clearly defined, yet all 
 theoretical flaws produce more or less mischief 
 in practice. The particular harm occasioned by 
 this oversight is, that a certain indiscriminate and 
 wholesale forgiveness is enjoined, against which 
 
FORGIVENESS. 377 
 
 liealtliy minds revolt ; tlie result is that they, with 
 equal indiscrimination, reject the whole. Conse- 
 quently, to many, forgiveness is synonymous with 
 meanness and cowardice. It is attributed either 
 to a want of spirit enough to feel an insult, or of 
 courage enough to resent it ; undoubtedly, a good 
 deal of w^hat passes for forgiveness and amiability 
 is only this ; but this is not forgiveness any more 
 than the hide of the rhinoceros, or the horns of the 
 deer, are forgiveness ; and by as much as forgive- 
 ness is a noble, manly, and Christian virtue, by 
 so much should its character be understood and 
 rescued from the imputation of being milk and 
 water. 
 
 When the sun goes down behind the hills to- 
 night, the listening ears of angels, and the always 
 open ear of Christ, w^ill hear thousands and thou- 
 sands of sweet child- voices lisping, " Forgive us 
 our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass 
 against us," and as the little night-gowned babies 
 kneel by mothers' knees, and rest in mothers' 
 arms, and smile in happy sleep, it will seem as if 
 no being ever could be so cruel as to trespass 
 against their innocence, and that even the pure 
 eye of the Son of God, looking into those little 
 hearts, w^ill scarcely find any trespass tliere ; but 
 when the white-robed cherubs get up in the morn- 
 ing, the angelhood ebbs, and humanity sets in 
 strong. They are no longer a choir of shining 
 ones, but a troop of Johnnys and Susys and 
 
378 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 Franks, who do not like to be washed, and see no 
 beauty in smooth hair, and have a special aversion 
 to old frocks when new ones are hanging in the 
 closet, and a special knack at setting each other by 
 the ears whenever opportunity does or does not 
 offer. Consequently, the differences that arise are 
 numberless, and armed interference on the part of 
 parents becomes a continually recurring necessity. 
 Here the matter begins. In the nursery the bat- 
 tles of life are fought, the perplexities of life are 
 encountered, the drama of life is enacted. Here 
 the great moral principles that should guide and 
 harmonize life are brought into play and strength- 
 ened for future use, or (alas ! too often) stretched 
 and strained and ruined. Here the theory of for- 
 giveness in all its ramifications needs to be thor- 
 oughly understood and correctly applied, or incal- 
 culable confusion will arise in a thousand forming 
 minds. Mary will not pull Willie's hair if her 
 mother bids her not, though it seems to her that 
 {'t would be no more than strict poetic justice in 
 return for his pulhng hers ; nor will the verse 
 that she is made to repeat about rendering evil for 
 evil, make all the crooked places straight before 
 oer. Harry cannot see why grown-up men put 
 into jail those who rob them of their property, 
 while he is expected to forgive and forget Bob's 
 running away with his ball. Nor do we, his father 
 and mother, see quite clearly through the whole 
 subject ourselves. An injury has been done or 
 
FORGIVENESS. 879 
 
 attempted against us. We feel that we must for- 
 give, because it is right and Scriptural and Chris- 
 tian to do so : yet we cannot feel towards the 
 offender just as we did before, because it is not 
 natural or possible to feel so ; and we compromise 
 between ought and zs, and say, " We will forgive, 
 but we never can forget." 
 
 But look into this matter a little. We want 
 no compromise with wrong or right. If anything 
 is right, do it wholly, — if wrong, do it not at all. 
 At all events let us know where we are. If it is 
 not possible to forgive and forget, it is not our 
 duty to do it ; for God never did and never will 
 require us to do what it is not possible for us 
 to do. Ability is the limit of duty. If it is our 
 duty to do it, we can do it, and we must do it, 
 and — we will do it ! 
 
 The New Testament draws a parallel between 
 man's forgiveness of his brother, and God's for- 
 giveness of man. If ye forgive not men their 
 trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your 
 trespasses. Even as Christ forgave you, so also 
 do ye. There must, therefore, be a similarity be- 
 tween the two acts. How, then, does God forgive 
 us ? The Bible furnishes plenty of answers. 
 
 " If my people, which are called by my name, 
 shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my 
 face, and turn from their wicked ways : then will 
 I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and 
 will heal their land." 
 
380 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 " It may be that the house of Judah will hear 
 all the evil which I purpose to do unto them ; that 
 they may return every man from his evil way ; 
 that I may forgive their iniquity and their sin." 
 
 " Take heed to yourselves. If thy brother 
 trespass against thee, rebuke him ; and if he re- 
 pent, forgive him. And if he trespass against thee 
 seven times in a day, and seven times a day turn 
 again to thee, saying, I repent ; thou shalt forgive 
 him." 
 
 This is the point : repentance must precede for- 
 giveness. God does not forgive wicked men till 
 they humble themselves, and seek his face, and 
 turn from their wicked ways ; and we may be sure 
 he does not require us to do differently, for his 
 ways are equal. He does not even leave us to 
 infer this. He says directly, " If thy brother tres- 
 pass" — what? '-'- Rebuke Jihn.''^ And then adds: 
 "i/ he repent, forgive him." This is unneces- 
 sary, if we are to forgive him whether he repent 
 or not. If a man wilfully or wantonly injure ns, 
 by word or deed, in mind, body, or estate, we are 
 in no wise bound to treat him, or to feel towards 
 him, as we should if he had not injured us. We 
 are not only not bound to do so, but we are bound 
 not to do so. It is, generally, not possible, and if 
 it were possible, it is not desirable. We shame 
 the dignity of right, when we allow right to be 
 sinned against with impunity. We encourage 
 evil-doing when we receive the evil-doer with 
 
FORGIVENESS. 381 
 
 open arms. We set a premium on slander when 
 we welcome the slanderer to our hearths and 
 hearts. Until he repents and brings forth fruits 
 of confession and retraction, meet for repentance, 
 we ought to stand aloof fi'om him, — holding our- 
 selves too high and pure for a friendship with 
 anything unclean. Is not this the doctrine of 
 the Bible? 
 
 Here comes in a danger on the other side. We 
 are to stand aloof, but for the right's sake, not for 
 the sake of malice, or revenge, or pride. We 
 may feel and say, " I am better than thou," but 
 not in a Pharisaical spirit. We see that the act is 
 mean, and we despise it, and we cannot help re- 
 joicing, and it is right that we should rejoice, in 
 the consciousness that we are above doing it ; yet 
 he who is versed in the lore of human hearts will 
 hardly indulge greatly in such self-gratulation. 
 He knows how often freedom from special sin may 
 be owing to freedom from special temptation, and 
 his feeling will be less of exultation than of active 
 gratitude to God, who has kept him from the 'hor- 
 rible pit and miry clay. Though we cannot look 
 upon the sin but with abhorrence, nor receive the 
 sinner without protest, we should be scrupulously 
 careful not to let the injury rankle and fester in 
 our souls. A wound is terribly hard to heal when 
 the proud flesh gets into it. We cannot look upon 
 our offending brother with the love of compla- 
 cency, but we can and ought to cherish the love 
 
382 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 of benevolence. We can pity him, for sin and 
 crime are the worst calamities that can befall a 
 man. We can pray for him, that his eyes may be 
 opened, — not simply to see his sin against us, but 
 to see his sin. We can watch for opportunities to 
 do him good, if so be he may be shamed into 
 repentance ; and when the opportunity comes, we 
 can improve it. Here, again, we have God for 
 an example. This is the attitude in which the 
 Bible represents him, — "a God ready to pardon, 
 gracious and merciful," "good and ready to for- 
 give, and plenteous in mercy unto all them that 
 call upon him." Everywhere He stands waiting, 
 longing to forgive, watching the first symptoms of 
 repentance, seeing the returning sinner when he is 
 yet a great way off, going out to meet him, and 
 not only receiving him as a son, but feasting him 
 as an honored guest, and dearly beloved. Is this 
 our attitude ? This is what it should be. For 
 the right's sake we should be unswerving, but for 
 the sinner's sake, for our own soul's sake, for 
 Christ's sake, we should not be punctilious. When 
 repentance comes, we should forgive freely, fully, 
 entirely, — like God, who abundantly pardons. 
 Let us have no half-way measures, for so shall 
 we be verily guilty concerning our brother. The 
 word " forget " need give no trouble. We are to 
 forget as God forgets when he says, " I will for- 
 give their iniquity, and I will remember their sin 
 no more." It is not an absolute, intellectual for- 
 
FORGIVENESS. 383 
 
 getfiilness, for that Is not a part of his nature. 
 Nor can it mean so to us, for we are made in the 
 ima^e of God. Even if absolute intellectual for- 
 giveness is ever possible to us, it does not come 
 within the scope of our will. We cannot for- 
 get because we are willing to forget, nor because 
 we wish to forget. The very effort would only 
 fix the fact more firmly in our minds and mem- 
 ories. Alas ! alas ! how many know this too sadly 
 well ! How gladly, if we could, would we erase 
 the little memories from our hearts ! How happy, 
 if, "in the silent hour of inward thought," no 
 remembered sin, long long ago committed and 
 repented of, no folly, no weakness, no shame, no 
 pain, should rise from a long-forgotten grave 
 to haunt, perhaps to reproach ! But memory is 
 the avenger of conscience, and no repentance can 
 stay her hand. Not even the abounding love of 
 Christ can wrest the sting from this worse than 
 death, — the victory from these relentless graves. 
 Christ may be glorified thereby, and we rejoice in 
 that ; but we must be forever abased. Man and 
 God may forgive, but the soul is its own sternest 
 janitor, and cannot forget. 
 
 The forgetfulness wherewith God forgets the 
 sins of his repentant children is of the heart, not 
 of the head. It is such foro-etfulness as the mothei 
 bestows upon the little one who weeps out hii 
 sorrow on her bosom. Remembering the act, she 
 remembers it without a vestio;e of ano-er or dls 
 
384 ~^ FORGIVENESS. 
 
 pleasure. She remembers it only to help more 
 generously and to love more deeply. So should 
 we forgive and forget the trespasses of those who 
 trespass against us. 
 
 Looking at it in this light, forgiveness is no pas- 
 sive, negative stolidity, the despicable birthright 
 of ignoble souls, but an active, positive, and most 
 Godlike duty, demanding for its accomplishment 
 the exercise of man's noblest qualities, — those 
 that separate him from the beast, and make him 
 but little lower than the angels, — nay, rather, that 
 place him higher than the angels, — allying man 
 to Him who is above all principality, and power, 
 and might, and dominion, and every name that is 
 named, not only in this world, but in that which 
 is to come. 
 
 Looking at it thus, the bravest boy may not fear 
 lest his reputation suffer by its exercise. So far 
 from indicating a mean spirit, it presupposes a 
 spirit not only manly, but, since it is in the image 
 of God, divine. A mean spirit may feel an insult, 
 a grovelling spirit may resent it, but only a lofty 
 spirit can forgive. 
 
 Looking at it in this light, we shall not find it 
 hard to conduct ourselves justly, as well as Chris- 
 tianly, towards those who have trespassed against 
 others, or against the Republic, or against God. 
 Rightly esteeming the blow struck at the least of 
 Christ's little ones to be a blow struck at our- 
 selves, — rightly feeling those injuries most sensi- 
 
FORGIVENESS. 385 
 
 bly which do not affect our own persons, — rightly 
 shuddering through every nerve when the Repub- 
 lic is endangered by treacherous friends, and the 
 hurt of the Church is slightly healed, — we will 
 not be implacable when God forgives. When 
 those men, North or South, who have sinned 
 against human rights ; who have sought to place 
 chains upon the necks of freemen, or who have 
 not sought to remove the chains from the necks 
 of the enslaved ; who, in the pursuit of their un- 
 righteous ends, have desolated homes, destroyed 
 life, and publicly perverted justice ; who have 
 trampled upon the Constitution that would not 
 be wrested to their evil purposes ; who have 
 counted the blood that was shed for freedom of 
 .httle worth ; who have sinned most deeply in this, 
 that they have sought to poison the fountains of 
 virtue ; who have wrought ill to the Republic 
 most in this, that they have not assaulted her 
 from without, but have laid hold of her strength 
 within, — pouring into her veins the turbid flow 
 of vile self-seeking, instead of the vigorous pulse 
 of universal right, hastening her on thereby to 
 premature senility and decay ; who have even 
 gone into the sanctuary, and laid unholy hands 
 upon the ark of the covenant, making the word 
 of God of none effect by their traditions ; who 
 have uncovered the nakedness of the land that 
 gave them birth, causing her name to become a 
 by-word, a reproach, and a hissing among the 
 17 Y 
 
386 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 nations ; — when even these shall bethink them- 
 selves, and repent, and make supplication unto the 
 Lord, saying, " We have sinned, and have done 
 perversely, we have committed wickedness " ; and 
 so return unto the Lord with all their heart, and 
 with all their soul, then will we too, remember- 
 ing the plague of our own hearts, join our voices 
 with theirs to the Lord God of Israel, crying, 
 " Hear thou their prayer and their supplication 
 in heaven thy dwelling-place, and maintain their 
 cause, and forgive thy people that have sinned 
 against thee, and all their transgressions where- 
 in they have transgressed against thee ; for they 
 be thy people." 
 
 Thus, in all times of our adversity and in all 
 times of our prosperity, in the hour of death and 
 in the day of judgment, shall we be able to say 
 without rebuke, " Forgive us our trespasses, as 
 we forgive those who trespass against us." 
 
XIV, 
 
 ERROR. 
 
 T is no matter what a man believes, pro- 
 vided he is sincere in his behef, — is 
 a somewhat common affirmation. It 
 comes chiefly from those who seem to 
 think that liberality consists in having no boun- 
 dary lines, that there is no such thing as religious 
 truth, and that, though convictions must be toler- 
 ated among the masses on account of the shallow- 
 ness of their minds, and the narrowness of their 
 views, yet the true condition of the highest hu- 
 manity is a vast and barren negation ; or it comes 
 from those who are too indifferent or indolent to 
 search among the foundations of faith, and, either 
 too blind to recognize, or too disingenuous to con- 
 fess such indifference and indolence, endeavor to 
 satisfy and excuse themselves by believing that the 
 object is insignificant and the pursuit unworthy ; 
 or from men of warm hearts, and acute, but not 
 large observation, who see in every sect benevo- 
 
388 ERROR. 
 
 lent, virtuous, and Christian individuals, and who 
 can in no other way reconcile discrepancies of 
 faith and uniformity of practice. 
 
 " No matter what a man believes, if he is only 
 sincere ! " rejoin those whose business and pleas- 
 ure it is to contend earnestly for the faith once 
 delivered to the saints. "But if a man is awa- 
 kened at night by the cry that his house is on fire, 
 and refuses to rise and flee because he believes the 
 alarm to be false, will his belief save him from the 
 flames ? Will he not just as surely perish as if he 
 did not so believe ? A man eats poison thinking 
 it to be food, but shall he not surely die ? His 
 belief is sincere, but it does not save him from 
 death." 
 
 And this is called refutation. The error is sup- 
 posed to be disproved, — shown to be absurd. 
 
 This is not refutation, — not a sound, thorough, 
 logical, satisfactory refutation. The cases are not 
 parallel. If the cases are parallel, and it is a 
 refutation, the matter stands thus : As the death 
 of the body inevitably results from a wrong belief 
 in the one case, so the death of the soul inevitably 
 results from a wrong belief in the other case. 
 It follows that every Universalist and Unitarian 
 and Roman Catholic will be forever lost ; for they 
 believe to be false certain statements which we 
 hold to be fundamental truths. It follow^s also, 
 that every pagan, every idiot, every baby, from 
 simple lack of belief in the Gospel, whether he 
 
ERROR. 389 
 
 has ever heard of the Gospel or not, whether he 
 has abihty to understand its conditions and meet 
 its requirements or not, will be lost, — as the un- 
 conscious invalid or the sleeping child would be 
 lost in the burning house. In fact, the illustra- 
 tion is of the most superficial kind. On the face 
 of it, for a moment, it may appear to be accurate, 
 but it does not stand the test of the slio-htest ex- 
 amination. It leaves the real difficulty untouched, 
 and i1^ assumes what is not true, and so creates a 
 new difficulty, and is an obscuration rather than 
 an illustration. It assumes that moral law is like 
 physical law. Doubtless, in the eyes of God, 
 moral law is just as exactly defined, its causes and 
 effects are just as accurately determined, its logical 
 connections are just as rigorously established, as 
 are those of material law ; but not to our eyes. 
 "We are not wise overmuch in material law. We 
 know cause and effect to but a limited extent. A 
 thousand modifications come in between our data 
 and our conclusions, and greatly affect the result. 
 But moral law, so far as it falls within our scope, 
 does not pretend to anything like the accuracy of 
 material law. Motives, inducements, temptations, 
 education, — a thousand circumstances of which 
 one mind only is cognizant, — are to be taken 
 into the account. In material law result is ev- 
 erything ; motive nothing. A man may burn his 
 house or poison his friend from carelessness or 
 mistaken love, but the house burns and the friend 
 
390 ERROR. 
 
 dies as surely as if malice had directed the deed. 
 In the moral world, the result is of less account 
 than the motive, or rather the direct and apparent 
 result is not the real and final result. The actor, 
 not the act, is the important point. God did not 
 forbid Adam to eat the apple because he wished 
 to save the apple, but because he wished to try 
 Adam. Jordan had no medicinal virtue above 
 Abana and Pharpar. 
 
 The reason of this is evident. If moral law 
 were rigidly defined, if the details of our faith and 
 practice were verbally laid down, if God had 
 made us so that we could guide our lives with 
 mathematical accuracy, we should have been little 
 better than machines. There would have been 
 no margin for individual endeavor, no elbow- 
 room for love. It seems as if the Bible was 
 made with set purpose to give full sway to our 
 faith and forbearance, our zeal and trust and 
 candor. God could have revealed every article 
 of belief to us with such clearness, that we could 
 no more doubt than we doubt that two and two 
 make four, — that fire and strychnine are fatal 
 to life. It would have been just as easy for him 
 to reveal everything beyond question, as to re- 
 veal it as he has. His revelation is such that 
 scores of sects have sprung up, each taking the 
 Bible as its basis, and each understanding it difier- 
 ently. One thinks baptism by immersion is the 
 only real baptism, and one thinks sprinkling is 
 
ERROR, 391 
 
 equally Scriptural. One sees universal salvation 
 taught there, and one the final sorrow of the 
 impenitent. One finds God in Christ, and one 
 finds him only in the Father. No one of these 
 sects can be pronounced to be without real and 
 earnest Christians in its bosom. And did not God 
 purposely leave his golden truths somewhat under- 
 ground, that, by the eagerness and assiduity with 
 which we dig for them, and by the courtesy and 
 kindness which we show to others encracred in the 
 same pursuit, we may at once develop a healthy, 
 vigorous, and refined spiritual life, and prove how 
 highly we prize these manifestations of his will ? 
 If we care to take only such truth as lies on the 
 surface, if we do not care to seek the hidden 
 things of God, our love cannot be very warm, 
 our devotion not very hearty. If at every turn in 
 life God stood by us, pointing out, " This is the 
 way, walk ye in it," we could give only a simple 
 obedience ; but if our eagerness to reach him is 
 strong enough to make us pause and ponder, ex- 
 amine the different roads, take observations, bridge 
 ravines, and cut down the underbrush, we have 
 opportunity to show the strength of our attach- 
 ment and the depth of our desire. 
 
 Bearing in mind still that, if the illustration in 
 question be pertinent, it follows that the point 
 believed is all-important, and the sincerity of be- 
 lief, and its causes, conditions, and other circum- 
 stances, of no account whatever, it is worth while 
 
392 ERROR. 
 
 to look at our own practice in such cases of moral 
 judgment as fall within our jurisdiction. 
 
 John Brown undoubtedly believed that he was 
 doing a just, and right, and humane thing when 
 he disturbed the peace of the country. But he 
 suffered the penalty in spite of his belief. So far 
 the example applies. But though the law does 
 not, the world does, accept his belief in extenua- 
 tion of his guilt. He died a felon's death, and but 
 for his beUef would have been a felon. Civil 
 law doomed him to the gallows ; moral law has 
 crowned him forever with the wreath of martyr- 
 dom. Now God governs us by moral, not by 
 civil law. Civil law is the endeavor of very de- 
 ficient, very imperfect, and very sinful beings to 
 do the best they can, — to compass justice as far 
 as possible. It is very bulky and cumbrous. It 
 takes cognizance only of coarse and palpable trans- 
 gressions. It is hedged about by rules. It is "a 
 creature of statutes and precedents. It only ap- 
 proximates justice. By complicated machinery, 
 by close and elaborate reasoning, by circuitous 
 and involved processes, it only succeeds in beat- 
 ing back the great waves of depravity. It just 
 manages to prevent anarchy and maintain society. 
 But moral law is the instrument and the pre- 
 rogative of Omnipotence. It is delicate, direct, 
 penetrating, instantaneous, infallible. It has no 
 statutes of limitation. It is self-adjusting, self- 
 executing. It does not, like civil law, stop short 
 
ERROR. 893 
 
 at the life. It pierces into the souh It discerns 
 the thoughts and intents of the heart. It gives to 
 every circumstance its just weight. It permeates 
 everywhere. It embraces everything. It is ade- 
 quate, exact, perfect. 
 
 We may not know the sentence of Divine Jus- 
 tice upon that brave old man whose deeds and 
 death rincp in a thousand sono;s, but is there in the 
 whole Christian Church one who believes that his 
 soul went to God burdened with the guilt of mur- 
 der and insurrection ? Yet if sincerity of behef 
 and the circumstances which induced it are of no 
 account, his acts were murder and rebellion. 
 
 There are thousands at the South who believe 
 that they are engaged in a war of right against 
 wrong, of liberty against slavery, of independence 
 against servihty. They are really engaged in 
 treason. If the sincerity of a man's belief has no 
 effect upon a man's charactei* and fate, then every 
 Secessionist is individually guilty of the most ter- 
 rible crime which a citizen and the most heinous 
 sin which a man can commit. There is not in the 
 rebel ranks one Christian. All their prayer is 
 mockery. All their virtue is hypocrisy. Every 
 man is a wretch. Every woman is a monster. 
 Do we believe this ? We believe nothlns; of the 
 sort. We believe that there are good and true 
 men and women among our bitter foes. They 
 have been misled by wicked men. They have 
 been deceived by false statements. -They have 
 
 17* 
 
894 ERROR. 
 
 been blinded from their youth. They cherish a 
 false faith. But beneath all the integuments of 
 falsehood, we discern the royal humanity. Nay, 
 even the civil law, awkward, unwieldy, and clumsy 
 as it is, takes cognizance of these facts, and when 
 the rank and file lay down their arms they will 
 find mercy, because they did it ignorantly through 
 unbelief. 
 
 So the civil law permits a man to go free who has 
 killed his neighbor, if it be shown that he supposed 
 himself to be doing it in self-defence, even thouo;h 
 in reality he were not attacked. Military law 
 does not condemn a sentinel who shoots one of his 
 own men under the supposition that he is a rebel 
 and a spy. If civil and military law, which must, 
 from the nature of things, be full of imperfection, 
 and must especially be able to inform themselves 
 but very inadequately regarding the modifying 
 circumstances, — if they allow themselves to be 
 influenced by these, is i-t reasonable to suppose 
 that the moral law, administered by a Lawgiver 
 and Judge who has made the law absolutely per- 
 fect, and who knows thoroughly what is in the 
 heart of man, who judges not by the faltering ac- 
 count which we are able to frame and render, but 
 by the accurate knowledge which he possesses of 
 every thought and motive and purpose, more ac- 
 curate than that of our own hearts, — is it reason- 
 able to suppose that such a one will take into 
 account only the simple fact of belief, and that the 
 
ERROR. 395 
 
 man will lose or save his soul according as lie re- 
 jects or receives this or that article of our creed ? 
 
 Is it then true, that sincerity of belief, and not 
 correctness of belief, is the point to be attained ? 
 Not at all. Because a thing is not black, it does 
 not necessarily follow that it is white. The asser- 
 tion in question is not wholly without foundation. 
 It is the caricature, the exaggeration, of a truth ; 
 and it is not to be turned aside with a specious re- 
 mark. It is not surprising that such an opinion 
 should have gained credence, when we see hum- 
 ble and devout Christians in every sect, and works 
 of love and mercy wrought under every creed. 
 But there is a fallacy, though it would appear to 
 be not easy to point it out. 
 
 The assertion is, in the first place, irreverent. 
 It assumes that truths which God has thought fit 
 to bring within our reach are not worth grasping, 
 — that the souls which he made can be nourished 
 just as well by falsehood as by truth. It puts the 
 type and the thing typified on the same ground. 
 The apple which Eve ate was of no consequence, 
 but the sin which it symbolized is of terrible mo- 
 ment. The brazen sei-pent was only a molten 
 image, but he who hung upon the cross was the 
 Lord of glory. Yet the assertion reduces both to 
 the same level of intrinsic insignificance. 
 
 It is unreasonable. It breaks in upon the anal- 
 ogy which obtains throughout nature. Falsehood 
 is always deleterious. Falsehood, rested upon, 
 
896 ERRUu. 
 
 and trusted in, as ultimate truth, even in the nat- 
 ural sciences, works derangement, and tends to 
 chaos. Surely, spiritual matters are quite as im- 
 portant as scientific. If, in them, a shght error in 
 the premises expands to grievous error in the con- 
 clusion, can it be supposed that spiritual error is 
 harmless ? It is true that error may not inevita- 
 bly be fatal in the spiritual, any more than in the 
 scientific world; but as, in the latter, content with 
 and rest in it effectually bar progress in truth, so 
 in the former. In both, wrong is too serious a 
 matter to be tampered with. The possible con- 
 sequences of wrong opinions are too wide-spread, 
 too destructive, to allow any laxity in pursuit of 
 truth, any indifference to the reception of false- 
 hood. The vertex of an angle rests on a point, 
 but the lines that subtend it may stretch far be- 
 yond our vision. Nothing is sure but what is 
 right, and the possibility of wrong demands as 
 great a vigilance as the certainty of wrong. So 
 likewise does the possibility of evil consequences. 
 
 So much for the assertion itself. A glance at 
 the appearances which induce it. 
 
 Every creed is to be judged by itself, and by its 
 tendencies. The first I leave out of view, as not 
 germane to this subject. Every sect must be sup- 
 posed to have examined its own creed before it 
 accepted it. Nobody believes that to be true 
 which he judges to be false ; but as in point of 
 fact only one of two antagonistic statements can 
 
ERROR. 397 
 
 be true, and as the adherents of each sincerely 
 beheve their doctrine to be true, Scriptural, and 
 inherently reasonable, we come to the very point 
 where people say that it is no matter w^hat a man 
 believes if he is sincere, and where the refuters 
 aforementioned join issue ; and where it is per- 
 tinent to bring forward the tendencies of a creed 
 to disprove the assertion. Looking at individual 
 members of individual churches, and observing 
 their patience of hope, and their labor of love, it 
 may indeed seem that differences of faith are 
 immaterial ; but a creed is to be judged not by 
 the life of a single individual who professes it, but 
 by the effect wdiich it has on the masses. One 
 honest and devout man is a Roman Catholic, and 
 w^orshlps the Virgin Mary; but if you find that 
 the tendencies of the Catholic creed are to ham- 
 per the mind and enervate the heart, — if, in 
 countries Avhere Cathohcism has free course to 
 run and be glorified, you see science stifled by 
 superstition, literature languishing, the liberal arts 
 neglected, progress prevented, — if on every hand 
 you see ignorance, servility, and sloth, — wdn'le, 
 in countries under the influence of a different 
 creed, you see a different state of things, — you 
 must judge that creed to be a false one, and 
 you must see that it is of importance that a man 
 believe right. So If you see that one faith seems 
 to chill and benumb the heart ; if it fi^eezes the 
 genial current of the soul ; if it closes the avenues 
 
398 ERROR. 
 
 of love and hope and benevolence ; if it makes 
 its votaries proud and disdainful and heedless ; if 
 it works works of selfishness and frivolity and 
 isolation and self-laudation ; or if it makes men 
 careless of tlieir duties, and thoughtless of God ; 
 or if it culminates in a superstitious rejection of 
 all creeds, substituting no creed of its own, but 
 only the ghost of a dead negation ; if it exalts 
 man above all that is called God ; if it puts the 
 works on a level with the worker; if it invests 
 stocks and stones with Divine attributes ; if it in- 
 vests divinity with infernal attributes ; if it deifies 
 lust and hatred and malice and pride and re- 
 venge ; — then you must infer not only that the 
 creed is false, but that belief or disbelief regard- 
 ing it is a matter of the highest importance. 
 You see that it does bear fruit, and because its 
 fruit- as well as its nature is evil, it is evil. Two 
 or three individuals, or two or three thousand, 
 may stem the current of their creed, and preserve 
 their integrity. 
 
 *' Like the white swan down the troubled stream, 
 Whose ruffling pinions have the power to fling 
 Aside the turbid drops that darkly gleam, 
 And mar the freshness of her snowy wing," 
 
 they may be warm in spite of a cold faith, pure 
 in spite of a vile one, or true in spite of a false 
 one. But a faith was given for the many, and 
 the faith that is most firm and sustaining and 
 ennobling and tender and true is the true faith, 
 
ERROR. 399 
 
 and such a faith is worth fighting for. Nor do I 
 mean to say that there are any who can live just 
 as well under a false as under a true creed, but 
 only that some will not be so wholly shipwrecked 
 as others. No man can bow to an idol, and be as 
 noble a man as if he worshipped the living God. 
 Between God and the man who adores him, 
 there is a perpetual ebb and flow. New every 
 morning, and fresh every evening, this tidal wave 
 bears up our mortal adoration to the skies, and 
 sweeps down the Divine effluence into our hearts. 
 But the pagan hurtles his soul against a rock, and 
 all is dumb and hard and cold. Truth will not 
 be discarded with impunity. If a man's life be 
 pure with a false faith, it would be dazzling with 
 a true one. You cannot have falsehood without 
 friction, and if the chariot-wheels run well in 
 spite of friction, what speed would they not attain 
 if the friction were removed ! 
 
 The very assertion that it is no matter what a 
 man believes, if he is only sincere, gives us a 
 glimpse of the frightful gulf fixed in some minds 
 between belief and practice. It indicates a divorce 
 between religion and life, between faith and works, 
 of which one cannot think without dismay. No 
 matter what a man believes, if he is sincere ? If 
 a man is indeed sincere, will he not work himself 
 practically right ? If any man will do His will, he 
 shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God. 
 Thus alone is sincerity of belief valuable. A sin- 
 
400 ERROR. 
 
 cere belief that does not bear on the life, or that 
 bears it down, is little worth; while if a man is 
 indeed searching for truth, if he goes to the Source 
 of light for light, if he applies to the Fountain of 
 wisdom, he shall receive wisdom and light and 
 truth. No man asks his Heavenly Father for 
 bread, and receives a stone. He may go for a 
 stone. He may be seeking, not for what is true, 
 but for what will build up his opinions, strengthen 
 liis party, and give him the victory ; and he will 
 probably get what he is after. But the man who 
 seeks to know what is the will of God concerning 
 him, will be sure to succeed. His sincere belief 
 will act on his life, and his life will react on his 
 belief. So far as he is sincere, he will follow on 
 to know the Lord, and as he goes he will see 
 that, though the landmarks are not removed, and 
 though every one saith, I am of Paul, and I of 
 Apollos, and I of Cephas, and I of Christ, yet 
 Christ is not divided. Neither Paul, nor Luther, 
 nor Servetus, nor Wesley, was crucified for us ; 
 but the ultimate, the momentous, the essential 
 fact stands, that there is one Lord, one faith, one 
 baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above 
 all, and through all, aiid in alh those whose life is 
 hid with Christ in God. 
 
XV, 
 
 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 guage 
 
 .T is not possible to be too familiar 
 with the spirit or the letter of the 
 Bible, nor are people often too much 
 addicted to the use of Scripture lan- 
 but it is of great importance that it 
 be used understandingly. A passage of Scrip- 
 ture, aptly quoted, has often more pith, point, 
 power, than anything else could have ; but, inapt, 
 it recoils both on him who employs it and on the 
 cause which it was intended to further. Some of 
 the expressions of self-abasement to be met with in 
 prayers, exhortations, and religious books, though 
 transferred bodily from the Bible, are injudicious 
 and disagreeable. It is not uncommon to hear 
 good men call themselves " worms of the dust," 
 but the impression produced is unpleasant. You 
 feel that the statement is not just. Look at man's 
 body only, brimful of hinges, balls, sockets, tubes, 
 cells, bags, and strings, with its more than two hun- 
 
402 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 dred beautiful ivory bones, everything ingeniously 
 contrived so as to combine the greatest lightness 
 with the greatest speed, strength, durability, and 
 beauty, — a set of complex and delicate machin- 
 ery, doing its own oiling and repairing, working 
 without friction, and of which the most admired 
 inventions of man are but a clumsy imitation. 
 Then look at the worm that disfigures your gar- 
 den-walk after a shower, — a long, raw, writhing, 
 disgusting little fellow, without a bone in his body, 
 — no limbs, no eyes, no lungs to speak of, and 
 not so much of a head but that he can spare it 
 with the smallest possible inconvenience. Cut 
 him in pieces, and he plasters up the ends and 
 makes himself answer. Head or tail, it is all 
 one to him, or all two, or all three, as the case 
 may be ; the only difference being that, whereas 
 he was one before, he is now a mob. And a 
 man calls himself such a one as this ! When, in 
 addition, you consider that marvellous and awful 
 Thing, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
 whose substance no man knows, which we cannot 
 define, and can describe only by saying what 
 it does, — it thinks, it loves, it hopes, it suffers, 
 it reasons, it remembers, — that Living Principle 
 which sits inscrutable, in solitary state, behind all 
 nerve and muscle and blood and brain, without 
 which nerve and muscle and blood and brain are 
 but so many particles of dust, — what has a man 
 in common with a worm ? 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 403 
 
 Do you say that his sinfulness is so great that 
 he is an abomination in God's sight ? Then you 
 slander the worm ; for he is not an abomination to 
 his Maker. I suppose a worm is, in its way, just 
 as pleasing to God as an archangel ; that is, the 
 worm is just as exactly what God meant before- 
 hand a worm should be, as an archangel is. It 
 just as truly fulfils the end for which it was cre- 
 ated. In its own little sphere — the hole which 
 it has bored in the ground — it is like everything 
 else which God has made, '' good." It cannot sin. 
 It never violated law. It never disregarded con- 
 science, nor forgot God ; nor has it ever passed, 
 or shall it pass, away from its Maker's notice. 
 There is, in that respect, no comparison to be made 
 between it and a human beino;. 
 
 Do you say, that, although man is so fearfully 
 and wonderfully made, yet, compared with God, 
 he is but as the worm to man? But " God cre- 
 ated man in his own image, in the image of God 
 created he him." " Know ye not that ye are the 
 temple of God, and that the spirit of God dwelleth 
 in you? If any man defile the temple of God, 
 him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God is 
 holy, which temple ye are." When Deity became 
 incarnate, he took not upon him the nature of 
 worms, but of man ; and shall man, the only being 
 created in the image of God, the being honored 
 above all other created beino;s in lendino; his like- 
 ness to God manifest in the flesh, and furthermoi'e 
 
404 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 and forever elevated and sanctified thereby, — 
 shall he voluntarily debase himself to the level of 
 a creature with not a thousandth part of his phys- 
 ical, nor a millionth part of his mental faculties, 
 nor any of his divine privileges ? This is not 
 honoring God. God is never honored by vilifying 
 his works. An artist is not honored by decrying 
 his pictures. A machinist is not honored by 
 treating lightly the engine which he has built. 
 God is great, yet man is but little lower than the 
 angels. God is great, yet in nothing that we 
 know greater than in this, that the man whom 
 he has made in his own image, chained down to 
 one little world and a few years of time, can, by 
 his own wonderful, God-given powers, sweep the 
 broad heavens, pierce the deep earth, grasp the in 
 finite past, penetrate the infinite future, and be the 
 discoverer and the historian of worlds in number- 
 less ages before he was born, and boundless space 
 where he has never been. Man, man only is made 
 after the likeness of God ; man only is bought with 
 a price ; therefore glorify God in your body and 
 in your spirit, which are God's. 
 
 Probably the phrase in question is generally 
 used without thought, without discrimination, al- 
 most without meaning. It is found in the Bible, 
 and, assuming that anything found there must 
 always be available, it is pressed into service.. But 
 it should be remembered that the Bible is the 
 revelation of God to man through an Eastern na- 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 405 
 
 tion ; and that Eastern nations, with their warmer 
 imaginations and fiercer passions, have a style far 
 more highly colored than ours. Phrases which are 
 every-day language with them, would be senseless 
 extravagance with us. Phrases which express 
 our Ideas, emotions, and sentiments quite ade- 
 quately, would be bald, dry, and tame to them. 
 Of course, the revelation of God Is tinged by the 
 medium through which It passes. That Is, the 
 earthly part of the Bible, Its physical nature, its 
 body, that part of It which Is not divine. Is He- 
 brew, Oriental, — not French, nor Celtic, nor 
 Anglo-Saxon ; just as Christ was a Jew, and not 
 a Spaniard or a Russian. Consequently, the 
 Bible has' the fervor, the luxuriance, the hyper- 
 bole, the warm, poetical, profusely-Illustrated style 
 which characterizes the literature and the life of 
 the East. This should be borne In mind in 
 understanding, quoting, and applying it. It is 
 necessary In order to avoid misapplication, and a 
 savor of hypocrisy, or at least insincerity. For 
 example, " The Lord Is my rock," would but 111 
 personify God's protective benevolence to a sailor, 
 to whom rocks are the monsters of the deep, — a 
 fear and a dread ; but the dweller In a war-like 
 country, where the rock-ribbed hills are fortified 
 posts, surmounted with towers, bristhng with sol- 
 diers, and a refuge against all enemies, would feel 
 the full force of the Psalmist's exultant song: 
 " The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my 
 
406 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 deliverer ; the God of my rock ; in him will I 
 trust : he Is my shield, and the horn of my salva- 
 tion, my liigli tower, and my refuge, my Saviour ; 
 thou savest me from violence." So a dweller In 
 sunny lands, wdio Is forced to make toilsome 
 journeys over long, low, level, monotonous tracts, 
 would naturally represent the loving-kindness of 
 God as the shadow of a great rock in a weary 
 land. 
 
 It was natural for Job, born and bred In the 
 land of Uz, his children cut off suddenly and 
 simultaneously, in the prime of life, his great 
 wealth gone, his reputation threatened, if not 
 actually destroyed, his person the prey of a foul 
 and loathsome disease, in his bitterness and deso- 
 lation and fierce self-disgust to say to corruption, 
 "Thou art my father; to the worm, Thou art 
 my mother, and my sister." It was not unnat- 
 ural that David — an outcast from his country 
 and king ; getting his bread by downright lying ; 
 feigning madness, scrabbling on the doors, and 
 letting his spittle fall down upon his beard, to 
 save himself from the sword of Achish ; hunted 
 by a half-crazy, but strong and savage king, 
 from post to post ; hiding in mountain, and wil- 
 derness, and dens, and caves, and every available 
 lurking-place ; the jest of servile courtiers ; the 
 captain of a rabble of malecontents and distressed 
 debtors — should exclaim in despondency, " I am 
 a worm, and no man ; a reproach of men, and 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 407 
 
 despised of the people."' But for an intelligent 
 New-Englander of good habits, good principles, 
 good conduct, good health ; familiar with abstract 
 ideas, and unaccustomed to metaphor ; who un- 
 derstands the difference between moral and nat- 
 ural ability ; calls his cliildren George and Jane, 
 and not " the Son of my Sorrow," or " the De- 
 light of the Lord," — for him calmly to pronounce 
 himself a worm, is not consistent, to say the least. 
 His conduct and bearing do not indicate that deep, 
 prostrating, overwhelming sense of unworthiness 
 which his words imply. He is coherent, method- 
 ical, self-possessed, — listens attentively to others, 
 shakes hands and exchanges salutations with his 
 friends afterwards, and is extremely cheerful, com- 
 fortable, and contented — for a worm. If he felt 
 as he spoke, would this be so ? What did Job do ? 
 He sat down among the ashes, and scraped him- 
 self with a bit of broken earthenware, in a grief so 
 distressing, so profound, and so appalling, that for 
 seven days and nights his fi'iends dared not speak 
 a word unto him. It should be a grief akin to 
 this that should stir our cool blood to such violent 
 speech. On the contrary, as far as I have ob- 
 served, it is done with entire complacency, and 
 the inference can but be that the man speaks not 
 because he feels, but because he does not feel. 
 We suspect the sincerity of his humility. A man 
 nmst have a pretty good opinion of himself in 
 private, to risk the defamation of his character in 
 
408 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 public. You do not hear a miserly Christian call- 
 ing himself stingy in the prayer-meeting, nor will 
 an UHtrustworthy church-member calmly accuse 
 himself of lying, or a gossiping sister affirm that 
 she is a common tattler and mischief-maker. But 
 a man may confess himself in general terms a 
 worm, without meaning anything in particular ; 
 and at the same time soothe his conscience, and 
 perhaps really believe that he is devoutly and 
 sincerely humble, or, at any rate, not suspect the 
 contrary. Let, however, his partner in the shop, 
 or his political friend or rival, intimate to him in 
 a secular and special way that he is a little weak 
 in mind, or morally unsound, and he will soon dis- 
 cover that, unlike worms, he has bright eyes, well- 
 defined lungs and tongue, not to say fists and feet. 
 
 God requires no morbid humiliation, even when 
 sincere. Job was undoubtedly sincere, yet the 
 Lord answered him out of the whirlwind, " Who 
 is this that darkeneth counsel by words without 
 knowledge ? Gird up now thy loins like a 
 man ! " 
 
 But every idle word that men shall speak — idle 
 words of humility or idle words of pride — they 
 shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. 
 
 True humility does not require a man to rate 
 himself at other than his real value. It never en- 
 joins upon him to sink below, any more than it 
 permits him to rise above, his proper level. If 
 humility consists, as Jeremy Taylor says, in hav- 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 409 
 
 ing a real mean and low opinion of one's self, then 
 was he not hnmble who asserted himself to be the 
 Light of the world. The sincerest humility does 
 not prevent a man from recognizing what is honor- 
 able in his character, any more than it prevents 
 him from ignoring what is dishonorable. It will 
 not make a man accuse himself of sins of which 
 he is not guilty, any more than it will make him 
 attribute to himself virtues which he does not pos- 
 sess. This is readily seen in matters which are 
 cognizable by the senses, and can be testified to in 
 a court of justice ; but it is not always clearly seen 
 in points more metaphysical. No honest man, 
 however sorry for sin, confesses himself a thief; 
 but repentant Christiailfe frequently rise in prayer- 
 meetings, and lament that they are dead in tres- 
 passes and sins. Yet it is not possible that they 
 are so. Dead ? The very fact that they say it 
 — always supposing them to be sincere, and not 
 hypocrites — shows that they are not. " Dead 
 men tell no tales." Dead men — I mean, as they 
 do, men spiritually dead — do not speak at all. 
 They do not think about their sins. They do not 
 know that they have committed any ; and if they 
 aid, they would not care. They do evil just as 
 wilimgly as good. They are entirely indifferent to 
 the character and the claims of God. eTust so loner 
 as a man feels that he is a sinner, just so long he 
 may know that he is alive, — perhaps not very 
 keenly, and watchfully, and jubilantly alive, but 
 
 18 
 
410 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 alive enough to have consciousness. He may not 
 be in a healthy state : his head may be sick, and 
 his heart faint, but he still lives. Whatever else 
 is true of him, it is not true tliat he is dead. To 
 be dead is to be without life, without warmth, 
 without feeling, or reason, or desire, or despair, or 
 hope, or fear, or purpose ; and it is wrong for a man, 
 who has enough of any or all of these to be aware 
 of his condition, to call himself dead. St. Paul 
 tells the Ephesians that they we7'e dead in tres- 
 passes and sins ; but they knew nothing about it till 
 God had quickened them. A knowledge of past 
 death may come with resurrection ; but in death 
 itself there is no remembrance, no consciousness. 
 
 Nor is it at all certain that the Church is as cold 
 and dead as its members are apt to say in prayer- 
 meetings. They who assert it are beyond their 
 depth. Men know very little of the lives, still less 
 of the hearts, of their brothers and sisters, and they 
 are generally incompetent to pass judgment. The 
 brother who seems to you altogether too much given 
 up to the pursuit of worldly profit, to the accumula- 
 tion of property, may be cherishing in his inmost 
 heart, and planning in his eager brain, and shaping 
 with his skilful hand, some darling scheme, which 
 shall redound a thousand-fold to the glory of Christ 
 and the Church. The gay girl who seems to you to 
 have far too much of the butterfly for life's serious- 
 ness, may be doing her work just as conscientiously 
 as the Apostle Paul did his. How do you know 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 411 
 
 that there is not a method in her gayetj? How- 
 do you know that she does not believe it to be her 
 Christian duty and Divine mission, as well as inno- 
 cent pleasure, to throw what little sunshme she 
 may on the severe outlmes and sombre coloring of 
 life ? " Be sober, be vigilant," rings in your ears, 
 but the voice that sings through her soul say&, "Re- 
 joice evermore" ; and both are divine. May it not 
 be that the supposed miser, wdio earns your disap- 
 probation and contempt, has not one quarter of the 
 income which you lay to his account, or has four 
 times the expenditure ? What do you know of the 
 poor relations, the distant dependents, the obscure 
 charities, the inherited debts, the hampering ties, 
 that hold him back ? You think your brother 
 who goes to sleep in church must have grown 
 lukewarm ; but suppose you had gone to the 
 marshes to make hay, for three, or four, or five 
 days past, getting up at two o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, driving your team half a dozen miles, mowing, 
 raking, cocking, spreading, loadmg hay till night- 
 fall, up to your knees in water half the time, — or 
 suppose you had been carrying that hay to mar- 
 ket, twenty miles away, driving your team on foot 
 over the frozen ground, — or suppose you had been 
 harassed by the complications of your business, by 
 fears of bankruptcy, and a consequent sacrifice of 
 your reputation for sagacity, not to say honor, — 
 or suppose that in any way the perplexities of life 
 had been unusually aggressive, as they sometimes 
 
412 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 are, — would it be the most unnatural thing in the 
 world if, when you had put them away from you 
 on the first day of the week, and were sitting 
 tranquilly in a quiet room, you should fall asleep ? 
 It is not necessarily religious indifference. It may 
 be bodily fatigue. The spirit may be wiUing, and 
 the flesh only weak. I trust I shall not be consid- 
 ered as justifying or excusing avarice, frivolity, or 
 criminal mdifference. Undoubtedly peoj)le some- 
 times get more tired than they have any right to 
 do. They fret over their business more than a 
 Christian should. A man with a grand benevo- 
 lence ill view may neglect many small benevo- 
 lences to which it is equally his duty to attend. 
 But what I wish is simply to suggest that things 
 are not always what they seem, and it is Chris- 
 tian charity, sometimes, to give human nature 
 the benefit of the doubt. The flesh may inno- 
 cently, nay, perhaps virtuously, be weak. In aU 
 matters which He beneath the surface, God alone 
 is judge. If a church steals, and slanders, and lies, 
 and backbites, not episodically, by an individual 
 here and there, as very likely most churches do, 
 but right on, steadily, without let or hinderance, 
 we cannot help supposing it to be cold ; but so 
 long as it behaves properly, so long as its moraL 
 are piu'e, we cannot say that its heart is not warm. 
 Not that morality is all that there is of religion, — 
 not that good morals are the whole duty of man. 
 It is perhaps possible to be quite right in our 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 413 
 
 relations to man, and quite wrong in our rela- 
 tions to God ; but our relations to God lie be- 
 tween ourselves and God, and beyond the range 
 of others' vision. You may infer that the Church, 
 is cold, but you do not know it, and it is often in- 
 ferred from only a partial consideration of facts ; 
 and when you rise in your place and affirm your in- 
 ference as a fact, you are, with the most innocent, 
 and probably the most laudable intentions, slan- 
 dering the Church. Some who hear you know it. 
 They know that they are neither cold nor stupid. 
 They feel the love of Christ shed abroad in their 
 hearts. They have constant communion with him. 
 They draw their life from him, and with them 
 your sweeping assertion goes for nothing, or for 
 something very different from what you intend. 
 There are others who will take your words as true. 
 They will believe and lament that they are cold 
 and dead ; yet, should you ask them whether 
 they are interested in the spread of the Gospel, 
 whether they desire for their children, above all 
 things, love to God, whether they value for them- 
 selves God's approval more than any other good, 
 whether they endeavor to be honest towards 
 all, whether they really try to do their best, 
 wliether they are sincerely repentant for sin, 
 whether they pray every day for pardon and sus- 
 tenance, — they will answer you unhesitatingly, 
 heartily, and truly, 2/es. Perhaps they do not 
 join in public worship so often as you think they 
 
41 4 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 ought. Perhaps they do not pray in the syna- 
 gogues with much fluency and unction. Perhaps 
 they do not organize benevolent societies so heart- 
 ily, or sustain them so wisely, as might be desired ; 
 but what of it? Those things are not religion. 
 They may be only a screen to conceal its ab- 
 sence. It may be that they have different views 
 from yours as to the propriety or desirableness 
 of such measures, or they may not have exec- 
 utive ability, or there may be no leading mind 
 among them to direct their piety into these chan- 
 nels. Let a man who knows how to guide men 
 go among them, and it is quite possible that your 
 cold, dead church will show at once that the 
 sap was coursing there ; for leaf, and bud, and 
 blossom, and ripening fruit, will attest its living 
 and life-giving presence. I think the apparent 
 coldness of the churches is often the result of 
 mismanagement on the part of leaders. They do 
 not take hold of things by the handle. They 
 do not get any purchase. They shoot wide of 
 the mark. They never get at the root of the 
 matter. Their want of tact and skill may not be 
 their fault ; and it is unfortunate that the same 
 incapacity which prevents them from doing the 
 w^ork prevents them also from seeing that it is 
 not necessarily the fault of others. 
 
 I never can resist the temptation to take up thfe 
 cudii^el in behalf of those who have not what 
 George Stephenson called the " gift of the gab." 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 415 
 
 It seems to me, sometimes, that nobody in the 
 world is so misunderstood and maligned as they. 
 Strange that a man always fluent, and ever ready 
 to take part in exhortation and prayer, will ac- 
 quire in a month a reputation for active piety 
 which a man just as pure of life, but without his 
 gifts, will acquire only after the lapse of years. 
 It is quite right in judging a man to be a warm- 
 hearted Christian so far as he talks like one, 
 because talking is one kind of action, — one of 
 the fruits by which we know the Christian, and 
 a fruit which comes to maturity sooner than any 
 other, and will of course receive earliest recogni- 
 tion ; but it is wrong to go beyond this, and judge 
 a man to be cold-hearted because he lacks this 
 power of expression. It does not materially alter 
 the case if he says so himself. Grind it into a 
 school-boy that he is stupid, and he will think 
 he is stupid. Christians of whom the world was 
 not worthy have been so belabored, so often 
 told that they were lukewarm and backward 
 and worldly by those who ought to have known 
 better, so sincerely and lugubriously bemoaned 
 over by those who did not know better, that 
 they came to believe it themselves, against the 
 facts. They hear a person speak warmly, elo- 
 quently, and impressively of religion. They can- 
 not speak so themselves. If they have been 
 brought up to consider that the dlfFerence is owing 
 to the other person's superior piety, the probability 
 is that they will accept the statement. 
 
416 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Mrs. Stowe says that her Dr. Hopkins " in 
 general viewed himself on the discouraging side, 
 and had berated and snubbed himself all his life as 
 a most flagitious and evil-disposed individual, — a 
 person to be narrowly watched, and capable of 
 breaking at any moment into the most flagrant 
 iniquity " ; and what Mrs. Stowe said playfully 
 of a romance-hero may be said in earnest of many 
 a living Christian. Many honestly seem to be- 
 lieve it to be a Christian duty to have a " real 
 mean and low opinion of themselves." There 
 would be a defect in their orthodoxy if this were 
 not the case. They have read the memoirs of 
 Brainerd, and Martyn, and Page, and Payson, 
 and David, and Paul, and they think, if these emi- 
 nently holy men felt such an abhorrence of them- 
 selves, how much more should common people, 
 who are in no wise eminent for holiness ; and 
 having decided, or rather falling into the opinion, 
 that they ought to feel as deeply and deplore as 
 heartily as these men did, it is not hard for them 
 to believe that they do thus feel, and can sincerely 
 thus deplore ; and consequently they fall to de- 
 nouncing themselves in the most emphatic terms. 
 If one should say to them at the close of a sum- 
 mer's day that he did not think he had committed 
 any sin through that day, that he believed God was 
 pleased with him, that he had done nothing that 
 day of which he need repent, they would be almost 
 as much shocked as if he had poured out a volley 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 417 
 
 of oaths. But is sucli a thing beyond the limits 
 of possibiHty ? Is God, indeed, so hard a master 
 that Christians of five, ten, twenty years' standing 
 cannot pass a day without falling under his wrath 
 and curse ? Or is Christianity so feeble a power, 
 that, after eighteen hundred years of effort, it can- 
 not bring the human heart and the human life 
 into closer hannony with the Divine ? It is not 
 to be supposed. I put the Brainerds and the 
 Martyns out of view. They were men, and no 
 inward divine impulse kept them from recording 
 morbid feelings or false views. Their sorrows 
 were almost entirely for intangible sins, — sins 
 which lay within their own hearts, and of which 
 nobody but themselves and God could judge. 
 Therefore they ought never to have been spread 
 before the world. It is the relation between 
 crime and penalty, between sin and sorrow, 
 w^hich it behooves men to know. The law is not 
 magnified by publishing the punishment, and with- 
 holding the crime for which the punishment was 
 inflicted. To outward observers, the sorrow of 
 these men was out of all proportion to their sin ; 
 because the sin was of such a nature that no out- 
 ward observer could judge of its magnitude. But 
 with the Bible people the case is clearer. When 
 St. Paul declared himself to be the chief of sin- 
 ners, he gave his reasons for it, — reasons intelli- 
 gible to every one. It was because he had been 
 a blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious. We 
 
 18* AA 
 
418 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 are distinctly told how he went through Judaea 
 and Samaria, making havoc of the Church, enter- 
 ing into every house, haling men and women, 
 and committing them to prison. It was this 
 persecution of the Church of God that loomed 
 up ever behind him, — the great sin of his life, — 
 that made him in his own eyes unworthy to be 
 called an Apostle. But I think no one can read 
 St. Paul's writings with the same candor which 
 he brings to other books, without seeing that, when 
 Paul speaks of his sins, he is thinking of what he 
 was before that great light shone upon him near 
 Damascus. We are not left in doubt as to his 
 views of his subsequent character. " By the 
 grace of God I am what I am." "I labored 
 more abundantly than they all." Very little self- 
 denunciation will be found in Paul when he had 
 ceased to be Saul. David expresses the most vile 
 opinion of himself: "Behold, I was shapen in 
 iniquity ; and in sin did my mother conceive me." 
 Well he miglit, after the commission of a crime 
 whose greatness was only paralleled by its mean- 
 ness ; but take the Psalms through, and David 
 seems to have been extremely well satisfied with 
 himself. He even throws himself back on his in- 
 tegrity. He prays to be judged according to his 
 righteousness. "My defence," he says, "is of 
 God, which savetli the upright in hearth " The 
 Lord rewarded me according to my righteousness ; 
 according to the cleanness of my hands hath he 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 419 
 
 recompensed me." The fact is, Paul and David, 
 especially Paul, were men of gi^and good sense. 
 The sins that they talked about were sins that 
 you can get hold of. And when they had re- 
 pented of them, and were forgiven, they let the 
 matter rest. They did not quarrel with generah- 
 ties. They were not continually on the lookout 
 against themselves. They embraced Christ joy- 
 fully, fought the Devil within and without man- 
 fully, till they had finished their course. 
 
 Christ's religion is an efficient agent. His 
 blood cleanseth from all sin. When he told the 
 woman to go and sin no more, he did not tell 
 her to do what she had not moral, natural, and 
 every kind of ability to do. When he bade his 
 disciples to be perfect, he meant so. It is, it must 
 be, just as possible for a Christian to go on day 
 after day without offending God, as it is for a son 
 to go on without offending his father. It is not 
 pride and vainglory to assert this. It is a rob- 
 bing of God to deny it. If religion cannot do 
 this, certainly religion is not what it claims to be. 
 Christ came to save this people from their sins. 
 Is his arm shortened that he cannot save ? O ye 
 of little faith, wherefore do ye doubt ? God is 
 not a hard master. He claims to reap only where 
 he has sowed. He comes to gather in only the 
 harvest that he has strewed. His yoke is easy, 
 his burden is light. When he forgives, he for- 
 gives wholly, and forever. At any moment we 
 
420 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 may begin T^ath a clean record. All the past is 
 cancelled. He will never again bring it up against 
 us. We need never again bring it up against our- 
 selves, —never at all, except, as Paul did, to mag- 
 nify the grace of God. Once pronounced " not 
 guilty " through faith, we shall never be prose- 
 cuted on the same indictment. We are pure and 
 clean in the blood of the everlasting: covenant. 
 The Christ that is within us will so work to will 
 and to do God's good pleasure, that every day 
 and hour and moment may be bright with the 
 Father's smiles, and ring with his "Well done, 
 good and faithful servant ! " 
 
 It may be suggested that it is rather late to 
 discover that men are apt to think of themselves 
 less highly than they ought to think. The ten- 
 dency has been generally supposed to lie in the 
 opposite direction ; and so it may. That is, the 
 assertion may be true of human nature general- 
 ly, and yet untrue applied to certain opinions of 
 a certain class comprised in a certain other class. 
 Church-members are but a small part of the world, 
 and the church-members who have been bred to 
 this way of thinking may be in small ratio to all 
 the church-members in the world, though they 
 are numerous in certain localities. Moreover, 
 all the people who hold this language towards 
 themselves do not probably rate themselves so 
 low as their words indicate. It is a great mis- 
 take to. suppose that, because a man is not a liar, 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KXOWLEDGE. 421 
 
 he always speaks the troth. Yery few people 
 get into the inside of words. Expressions of 
 self-abasement do not necessarily imply self-abase- 
 ment. A great deal will be gained when men 
 shall have learned to say exactly what they mean, 
 when they profess to mean what they say. Meu 
 can confess that they are great sinners, and not 
 feel very uncomfortable about it, — in fact, take 
 considerable satisfaction in it. It seems, some- 
 how, as if one had set one's self right. It 
 takes off the edge of all censure. I have heard a 
 good many public confessions of s?n that bore no 
 signs of humiliation. Of course, no one can tell 
 what is in a man's heart ; but the words and the 
 manner did not correspond. For a sinner is a 
 thousand removes from a rascal. You can avow 
 yourself a sinner witliout forfeiting your posi- 
 tion in church or society, and without exciting 
 suspicion in your own heart. And just here is 
 one of the evils arising from this wrong way of 
 thinking and speaking. A legion of little vices 
 may escape unnoticed under cover of a general 
 confession, or even sense, of unworthiness. In la- 
 menting over generalities, we pass over specialties. 
 We confess sins, but forget faults. But there is 
 no such thino; as abstract sins. There is no such 
 thins; as transo-resslncr God's law without doincr 
 something. Sinning is being selfish, stealing, 
 cheating, telling lies, slandering people, dawdling 
 away time, eating what is known to be injurious, 
 
422 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 making yourself unnecessarily disagreeable, taking 
 advantage of your position to make out your own 
 case, and not giving your opponent any chance 
 for a hearing. Sin is all manner of meanness. 
 Now if, wlien people make a public confession of 
 sin, they would confess their sins as Paul did, it 
 might be of service. This is sometimes done in 
 what are called " re^dvals," and it is generally ac- 
 companied by unmistakable signs of contrition, and 
 followed by sincere, and often successful, efforts 
 at reformation. I would suggest, therefore, that, 
 when church -members lament that they are dead 
 in trespasses and sins they specify the particular 
 sins in which they died. So their death may serve 
 as a warning to others. 
 
 But granting, as of course every one does, that 
 Christians ought not to express emotions which 
 they do not feel, it may be questioned whether 
 good taste would allow them to make their own 
 righteousness prominent. But if good taste allows 
 men publicly to vilify themselves, I do not see why 
 it should not allow them publicly to justify them- 
 selves, — especially as their sins are their own 
 fault, and their graces are the gift of God. It is 
 not an individual, not even human nature, but the 
 plan of salvation, that is on trial. Human nature 
 is granted on all sides to be totally or partially de- 
 praved. Calvinists and Socinians agree in this, 
 that a child left to himself bringeth his mother to 
 shame. The point to be decided is, whether, when 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 423 
 
 religion is brought to bear upon human nature, it 
 is strong enough to rectify human nature. There 
 are generally many present at prayer-meetings who 
 have not turned their feet unto the testimonies of 
 God. If lamentation and reproaches be upper- 
 most there, will not these people say: " Of what 
 use is this religion that they talk so much about ? 
 According to their own showing, it does not 
 seem to make them good, and we are not any 
 worse than bad. We may as well wait a little 
 longer." 
 
 St. Paul again stands us in good stead. He 
 does not like to speak of himself. He is pro- 
 fuse of apologies when it becomes necessary. As 
 a gentleman, he shrinks from displaying a per- 
 sonal prominence ; but since the truth requires it, 
 he comes out in full force. His native modesty 
 cannot help holding back a little, but he clenches 
 the fact thoroughly before he leaves it. He who 
 had not thought himself meet to be called an 
 Apostle, because he persecuted the Church of God, 
 now declares himself not a whit behind the very 
 chiefest Apostles. " I speak as a fool," he de- 
 clares, half indignant at being forced into such a 
 positimi ; " but I will say the truth," interposes his 
 sturdy conscience. " I am become a fool in glo- 
 rying," he repeats uneasily, ** but ye have com- 
 pelled me : for I ought to have been commended 
 of you ; for in nothing am I behind the very 
 chiefest Apostles. As the truth of Christ is in me, 
 
424 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 no man shall stop me of this boasting." Why 
 does he do this? Because they sought a proof 
 of Christ speaking in him. When they mistrusted 
 him he asserted himself, and this self-assertion was 
 honoring God. He assumed to be the accredited 
 ambassador of Christ, and it behooved him to 
 show that the grace which was bestowed upon him 
 was not in vain. " I labored more abundantly 
 than they all ; yet not I, but the grace of God 
 which was with me." So should we fill ourselves 
 with Christ, that we be not tormented with a per- 
 petual self-consciousness. When one feels that 
 any part of his own history or experience is ne- 
 cessary to vindicate truth, and glorify God, he 
 should declare it boldly, honestly, intelligibly, 
 definitely, as Paul did; not restrained on the one 
 side by a false delicacy, nor puffed up on the 
 other by a presumptuous, ignorant conceit of self- 
 riorhteousness. And when the interests of truth 
 do not require this, he should hold his peace. For 
 my part, I cannot conceive how a person who has 
 any consciousness of sin or of sinfulness can ever 
 talk about it. 
 
 But take things at their worst. Suppose a 
 church is cold, what is the good of saying so ? 
 Few things so lower the mercury at a prayer- 
 meeting as the doleful periods of a doleful man, 
 — " church cold and stupid," " ways of Zion 
 mourn," " few come to her solemn feasts," " left 
 her first love," " sluggish and worldly." The 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. ^"16 
 
 very thought of it is chilling. Suppose you are 
 cold, is melancholy the only resource ? What 
 does a man do when he is cold ? He bestirs 
 himself, goes to the fire, rubs his hands, stamps 
 his feet, chops wood, walks briskly, till vigor- 
 ous blood leaps along his veins, and every finger- 
 end tingles. Go ye and do likewise. The very 
 fact that few are present makes it the more 
 necessary that the meeting should be interesting 
 and inviting, in order that those few may come the 
 next time, and pei'haps bring a few more with 
 them. The worldliness of the church is very 
 indifferent fare to those who attend its gatherings. 
 If they are to have nothing better to feed on than 
 their own husks, they might as well stay at home ; 
 and they probably will. No. If you are cold, 
 or the church is cold, do not mention it. You 
 will only freeze the harder. Begin and do some- 
 thing to get warm. Read the Bible. Pray 
 more. Pray definitely. Do not pray so much 
 for things in general. Do not repent of your 
 worldliness, but repent that you dropped a three- 
 cent-piece into the contribution-box when your 
 income would have allowed a dime, and be sure 
 to put in seventeen cents the next time. Choose 
 some person to pray for, for a limited time, and 
 then choose another, and be on the lookout for a 
 chance to influence those persons in other wavs. 
 Organize a missionary society, or a Sunday-school 
 class. Think of something pleasant, or soothing, 
 
426 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 or encouraging, or warning, to say to stray souls. 
 Find out the old people, and the poor people, and 
 the blind people, and the drunken people, and the 
 suspicious people, and the sorrowful people, and 
 get hold of them. Tell stories to the children, 
 make the overtasked man laugh, smuggle thoughts 
 into empty heads, and reflections into careless 
 hearts, and do not go about shivering. There are 
 a thousand ways to get warm, and remember that 
 heat always seeks an equihbrium. If you are 
 cold you will cool others, and if you are warm you 
 w411 set others aglow. If you have been guilty of 
 public sins, confess them, and see to it that you 
 forsake them. If you feel called upon to illus- 
 trate the loving-kindness, the boundless mercy of 
 Christ by a relation of any part of your private 
 liistory, do it modestly and quietly. Remem- 
 ber that at best you speak as a fool, and that 
 your only plea can be Paul's, " Yet as a fool re- 
 ceive me." 
 
 And whether you confess open or hidden tres- 
 passes, and whenever you speak of a state of heart 
 opposed to God, be sure you do it in the past 
 tense. Why ? Because at the time you speak, 
 you have, of course, stopped sinning. If you 
 have not, why are you talking ? Do you mean 
 to confess sins in wdiich you still indulge ? By no 
 means. It is he that confesseth and forsaketh his 
 sins that shall find mercy. You ivere a thief, you 
 were a drunkcird, you did shave notes, you did 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 427 
 
 backbite your superiors, but you do it no longer. 
 When you are thoroughly warmed, you can, if 
 you choose, say that you were cold. After God 
 has quickened you, you may thankfully admit that 
 you were dead in trespasses and sins. But when 
 you address your brethren, be guileless. You can 
 be. Forgiveness is entire. However wicked you 
 may have been, begin at once to be good, and if 
 you do not wholly succeed at the first trial, be as 
 good as you can be. Extol the goodness of God. 
 Men are far more easily moved to virtue by a 
 good example, than repelled from vice by a bad. 
 They are far more apt to emulate the good, than 
 to shun the evil. Look on the encouraging side 
 of things. Point out the hopeful signs. Exalt 
 man's capabilities ; in so doing you exalt God, his 
 maker. Magnify his office ; to God is all the 
 glory. Take him at his highest, and he will press 
 on to grander heights. Draw him from the front, 
 as Eastern shepherds draw their flocks, and do 
 not always drive him from behind. "Allure to 
 brighter worlds, and lead the way." If you must 
 record your sorrow, record at the same time your 
 joy. Let God's abundant mercy overshine and 
 dazzle away your guilt. Let every tear be rain- 
 bowed in smiles. Let every " Alas ! Master," 
 have its " Hallelujah ! " Be full of gratitude, and 
 trust, and love, and life. Be helpful, and hopeful, 
 and lusty, and cheery. So shall not only your soul 
 be filled with a joy that no man can take from 
 
428 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 you, but tlie cold church around you will insensi- 
 bly and surely melt away in this new light and 
 warmth which you diffuse, and where it stiffened, 
 a new temple shall arise whose Holy of Holies will 
 enshrine the sacred fire forever. 
 
 Besides these words of self-depreciation, there 
 are words of comfort spoken so without knowledge 
 that they irritate rather than console. Their com- 
 fort is founded on measurements. Good people 
 see men unhappy, and they undertake to demon- 
 strate that such unliappiness is unreasonable and 
 ungrateful, because there are so many more happy 
 circumstances in life than there are unhappy ones. 
 " Reckon up your blessings," they say, " see how 
 greatly they outnumber your annoyances, and 
 cease to be annoyed. Count the gifts that have 
 been bestowed upon you, and be ashamed that you 
 are so distressed because one or two things go 
 wrong." 
 
 This may be unanswerable in point of fact, but 
 men and women, especially women, will never be 
 happy because it is proved in a syllogism that 
 they ought to be happy. The theory may look 
 well on paper, and trip smoothly from the tongue, 
 but the moment it is set to work, it will get out 
 of gear. 
 
 For evil and good are not commensurate. Their 
 power bears no proportion to their bulk. A little 
 evil may, from the nature of things, not from the 
 ingratitude of man, neutralize a great good. It 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 429 
 
 may be demonstrably true, that by far the greater 
 number of circumstances that surround a man are 
 pleasant, yet one unpleasant one shall invalidate 
 them all, — not because he perversely refuses to 
 recognize the pleasure, but because the pain is 
 more penetrative and more diffasive. A man has 
 a faithful wife, noble children, honor, and health, 
 and wealth, — but one wayward son, whose life is 
 a constant shame and terror, embitters this para- 
 dise. He has more power to make miserable than 
 all the rest have to make happy. He poisons 
 the very fountain of happiness. Even a much 
 smaller evil may work oblivion of good. A severe 
 attack of toothache will make a man for a time 
 indifferent to every advantage. One little tooth 
 is ridiculous, when compared with houses and 
 lands and influences, but one little tooth disturbed 
 will assert its claims with a pertinacity that insures 
 more attention than ambition or love can secure. 
 A single spot on a coat spoils the coat, though 
 not one twentieth as large. An unseen worm 
 bores an insignificant hole in the ship's side, — in- 
 significant compared with the uninjured portion, — 
 but the defect is stronger than the strength, and 
 overpowers it; and the grand and stately ship 
 goes staggering down into the black waters. So 
 in character, a man may be loyal, benevolent, and 
 intelligent, yet so peevish, fi-etful, or suspicious, 
 that his society is disagreeable, or he may be so 
 self-conceited as to forfeit respect, or so uncleanly 
 
430 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 and uncouth as to be justly outlawed. One evil 
 expands itself, and usurps the place of much good. 
 One vice swallows up a thousand virtues. 
 
 There is a Divine recoo-nition of this fact in the 
 Apostle James's assertion, " For whosoever shall 
 keep the whole law, and jet offend in one point, 
 he is guilty of all." 
 
 Therefore, all comfort based on the ratio of 
 good and evil is futile. It is founded on a fal- 
 lacy, and when the waves of sorrow dash against 
 it, its fall is certain. It will do tolerably so 
 long as we are not in trouble, but when trouble 
 comes, it is nothing, and worse than nothing, 
 and vanity — not to say exasperation. You get 
 small relief from the man who says, " You have 
 a felon on your hand, to be sure, but you have 
 money and fame and troops of friends, and you 
 ought not to mind it." Nor is it any comfort 
 to compare your trouble with somebody else's 
 greater. A pin does not prick you any more 
 gently and agreeably because your neighbor has 
 had his arm cut off. The two hundred dollars' 
 rent which your tenant cheats you out of, is just 
 as much a loss to you as if your friend had not 
 been cheated out of bis whole fortune. You may 
 be glad that you are not in his place, but it does 
 not make your place any pleasanter. 
 
 Sorrow is to be recognized as sorrow. Nothing 
 is gained by arguing it out of the way. It is pre- 
 supposing and fostering an unmanly weakness, to 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 431 
 
 assume that a man cannot bear whatever burden 
 God imposes upon him, but must be cajoled into 
 the belief that it is not much of a burden, before 
 he will undertake it. A man loses his property. 
 It is true that he has wife and children, health and 
 honor left, and these are much ; but the loss of 
 property is a great loss. Money commands time 
 and space. Money brings beauty and elegance 
 and comfort and culture. Money means eyes 
 to the blind, and feet to the lame, and warmth 
 to the chilled, and clothes to the naked, and hope 
 to the despairing, and strength to the weak ; 
 and the man who loses this has met with a se- 
 vere loss. 
 
 But the comfort lies not veiy much in pointing 
 out what he has left, — for he had all those before 
 he lost anything, — but in remembering that God, 
 in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our 
 ways, appoints to every man his lot, and all things 
 — pain, sickness, weariness, poverty, length of 
 days, riches, and honor — all things work together 
 for good to them that love God. He could, if he 
 had chosen, make every man great and rich and 
 powerful. That he has not done this, proves that 
 he did not will to do it. We feel that, if we were 
 rich, or eloquent, or self-possessed, we could do a 
 great deal more good than we can now, but our 
 very weaknesses may, and should, become " nim- 
 ble servitors to do His will." The chosen path is 
 barred to our eao;er feet. One obstacle stands in 
 
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432 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 the way of success. A single circumstance, small 
 but not slight, forces us from the life that we like 
 to the one we do not like. One drop of sour spoils 
 the whole cup of sweet. But it is of the Lord, 
 and he means us only good. Fortitude may be as 
 heroic 'as courage. Patience is as sublime as 
 strength. " They also serve who only stand and 
 wait." " Knowledge by suffering entereth." In 
 the immovable shadow of a great sorrow, or in the 
 flickering shade of many little sorrows, all virtue 
 may flourish. The utmost grandeur of character 
 may be attained by uncomplaining, not stoical, 
 submission to the Divine will. Alone with sor- 
 row, alone with trial, man communes with his 
 Maker, and finds his grace sufficient. From the 
 grave of a dead hope we may rise to newness of 
 life. From a disappointed ambition we may work 
 out a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory. There is no strength like the strength 
 of him who has breasted his disappointments 
 and overcome them, — whose feet are planted 
 upon the wrecks of his own plans, and whose 
 eyes are lifted unto the hills, whence help com- 
 eth. 
 
 We are told by naturalists that the tones of birds 
 seem to indicate a certain degree of discontent ; 
 that " the almost uninterrupted song of caged birds 
 proves their singing to be no certain evidence of 
 happiness. It is well known that, when an old bird 
 from our own fields is caught and caged, he will 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 433 
 
 continue his tunefulness long after all others of the 
 same species, who enjoy their freedom, have be- 
 come silent." 
 
 This is a not inapt illustration of the workings 
 of the human soul. Some of the finest produc- 
 tions of genius have been born of a grief that tra- 
 vailed in anguish, waiting deliverance. It was 
 " in the narrow chamber of his neglected old age," 
 hiding from a hostile king, shut out from the light 
 of the happy sun, that the eyes of Milton opened 
 upon the glories of Paradise, and there burst from 
 his tranced lips " a sevenfold chorus of hallelujahs 
 and harping symphonies." Still, with a grand 
 organ-roll, the echoes of that solemn song sweep 
 down the corridors of time, nor shall any age be 
 found so base as to close its ear to that Heav- 
 enly Muse which erst did soar above the Aonian 
 Mount. 
 
 Cowper's life was one long pang. The cloud 
 hovered over his infancy, deepened and darkened 
 above his manhood, and settled around his dying 
 bed with an impenetrable gloom. Occasional rifts 
 show how brilliant was the light beyond, but never 
 its silver lining was turned towards him ; and 
 Death came, no King of Terrors, but a divine 
 messenger, at whose word 
 
 " Heaven opened wide 
 Her ever-during gates." 
 
 Now in a million hearts the songs that warbled 
 
 19 BB 
 
434 WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 up from this breaking heart awake an answering 
 thrill, and the prayer of all sighing souls is voiced 
 in that mournful lyre, 
 
 •' for a closer walk with God, 
 A calm and heavenly frame, 
 A light to shine upon the road 
 That leads me to the Lamb ! '* 
 
 Thus it has been, and thus it shall be under the 
 sun. It is the crushed grape that gives out the 
 blood-red wine. It is the suffering soul that 
 breathes the sweetest melodies. That Holy Life 
 which eighteen hundred years ago lit up forever- 
 more this valley of shadows, was exceeding sor- 
 rowful, even unto death. The Blessed One trod 
 the wine-press alone. From an agony into which 
 mortal eyes may never look rang out the new 
 song of peace on earth, good-will to men. Ever 
 since, as ever before, the voice of humanity is a 
 loud and bitter cry. Genius smites his harp to 
 relieve the unsatisfied want of his soul. His verse 
 is tremulous with gathered tears. 
 
 Fear not, Httle flock. It is your Father's good 
 pleasure to give you the kingdom. Somewhere, 
 and at some time, the redeemed soul shall realize 
 its loftiest conception, — nay, rather, the truth 
 shall transcend his idea ; for eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the 
 heart of man, the things which God hath pre- 
 pared for them that love him. The white blos- 
 soms of hope shall then ripen to purple fruit- 
 
WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 435 
 
 age, and the full soul shall bask in the glory 
 of her God. 
 
 " The poet now hath entered in 
 The place of rest which is not sin. 
 
 " And while he rests, his songs, in troops, 
 Walk up and down our earthly slopes, 
 Companioned by diviner hopes. 
 
 " ' Glory to God — to God ! ' he saith : 
 Knowledge by suffering entereth ; 
 And life is perfected by Death ! " 
 
 Cambridge : Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co