PEIHGETOIT Hii^, APR 1884 THEOLOGICAL MumKtk Dlvlslon.^,SS30 Section „jVVr5*S' No, THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE, BY THE REV. FRANCIS WHARTON, D. D., LL. D. RECTOR OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCH, BROOKLINE, MASS. ^m BOSTON: E. P. BUTTON AND COMPANY, ©Hrcjj 3PubUst)ers. 1867. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. riverside, cambridge: ;T'£R£Otyp£d and printsd bt h. 0. houghton and company. PREFATORY NOTE. The following pages include the substance of a series of sermons delivered in the usual parochial service at Brookline. My object, for the purposes of the pulpit, was to notice the practical inferences to be drawn from the Silence of Scripture, in some of those instances in which this Silence is most marked. Although Dr. Wordsworth speaks the common opinion of most com- mentators when he tells us that the Silence of God's Word is itself inspired, yet the subject is one which has been comparatively unexplored.^ In the course of my investigations of the extent and teachings of this Si- lence, particularly in the New Testament records, the materials in my hands so expanded as to adapt them to the press rather than the pulpit. I have concluded, 1 The only instances in which the subject, so far as my reading in- forms me, is distinctively considered, are to be found in the sections on the " Omissions in Scripture," contained in Archbishop Whately's Essays, and in his Cautions for the Times ; in Canon Miller's Lecture on the Silence of Scriptures, delivered before the London Young Men's Christian Association, in 1858; and in the Rev. Robert Hall's re- markable sermon On (he Glory of God in Concealing. IV PREFATORY NOTE. therefore, to place them in the present channel ; and I earnestly pray that this, the consideration of the Si- lences of the Divine Text, may make, to all in whose hands these pages full, those utterances which are re- vealed not only more distinct, but more precious, as containing God's sole and exclusive message to man. F. W. Brookline, February 25, 1867. mti^ets Eorlr, iDf)0 fjajSt tm^e^ all l^olg ^orijituroi to fie iDxitttn far aux teaming : jarant tf)at toe mag in iut^ iaiit l^car tf)em, realf, marfe, Irarn, antr intoartrlg IrifleiSt ti^em, tf)at, fin patience antr comfort of Cl^g ?^oXm ^X^ortr, toe mag embrace, anU eber l)aXis fajSt ti)t l^ope of eberla^tinjs life, tD!)icib Cnbou I)a^t Qibtn u^ in our ^afaiour Sle^itij Cl^riiSt. MiO. APR ;884 TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. THE CREATION OF THE WORLD. PAOX Antecedent probability of reserve in Divine revelation i Hence the Silence of revelation has its particular teaching, and is itself inspired 2 This silence considered in reference to the creation of the world 3 Curiosity felt by men in the details of creation 3 A revelation constructed by man would seek to gratify this curiosity 3 On the other hand, the details given by Scripture are few and meagre 3 They leave almost every thing, except the Divine authorship, undetermined 4 Reasons for this silence 5 1. A premature revelation of science would not be likely to be accepted as a revelation of religious truth 5 2. If accepted, it would paralyze the intellectual energies, and weaken faith and humility 7 3. A perfect revelation of science would not meet the spir- itual wants of man 8 CHAPTER II. THE ORIGIN OF EVIL. Probability that a man-made religion would attempt a solution of the origin of evil lo VIU TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAOB Silence of Scripture on this point lo This silence analogous to the silence of Nature 1 1 Nature gives no clew to this great mystery 13 Lessons to be learned from it 13 1. Limitedness of our faculties 13 2. Existence of a spirit of evil 15 His nature 15 The restraints on his power 15 His ultimate overthrow 16 CHAPTER III. DIVINATION. Divination a chief feature in man-made religions 18 The universality of the superstitions it appeals to 19 Christianity the sole religious system that does not recognize this 21 Lessons to be derived from this 21 1. Absolute dependence on God 21 2. Benefits of this veiling of the future 22 Our blindness to the future is the parent of energy, fortitude, and patience 22 Without it we could but illy bear disasters, bereave- ments, or future shocks 23-25 Christ bore for us the foreknowledge of sorrow 26 Christ the Averter 27 CHAPTER IV. LITURGY. No form of liturgy prescribed in the New Testament 28 Such an omission unprecedented in ecclesiastical history 28 Causes of this omission 29 Not as connected with disapprobation of a liturgy 29 A liturgy used by our Lord 29 And adopted by the early Church 29 And most fitted for public worship 29 TABLE OF CONTENTS. IX PAQK 1. But as based on the truth that prayer is not maris me- chanical repetition of Gocfs precepts but man's volutttary . response to Gocfs revealed Word 30 Formularies become mechanical just to the very extent to which they are regarded as arbitrarily imposed 30 Prayer, to be acceptable to God, must be the action of individual intellect and heart 30 2. Liturgical liberty essential to church universalization. . 32 The Church to comprehend all phases of nationality and culture and temperament, and to adapt itself to each 33 Liturgical flexibility in Primitive Church 34 Importance of such flexibility now 35 Prayer always to be individual 36 Revelation is of God: Prayer, of Man 36 CHAPTER V. CREEDS. Creeds and catechisms necessarily used in the apostolic teach- ing 37 Their omission only to be accounted for by Divine direction. . 38 Reasons to be supposed for such omission 38 I. Such a compendium would supersede the present Scriptures 38 (a.) Patient induction would be no longer exercised. . 38 Analogy between Scriptures and Nature 39 Neither in themselves systematic 40 Both must be studied to draw out systematic truth 41 Wide and varied field of induction presented by Scripture 41 Important moral and mental qualities exercised in this induction 42 (b.) Such a compendium would make man the omnis- cient reflection of an omniscient God 43 (c.) By such a process spiritual assimilation would be destroyed 43 X TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAOB 2. Such a compendium would imperil church universaliz- ation 44 Christ Himself universal 45 Universal relations of Scripture .... 46 Adaptation to various temperaments 46 Representativeness of the several inspired teachers. . 46 Illustrated by St. Paul and St. John 47 Converging roads of access to the cross 48 Illustrated by predestinarian controversy 48 Doctrine of conversion 49 I. Objections to this position. 1. That this leads to universal license 50 Answer. (a.) The only escape of heresy is in vitiating the text. 50 {d.) The objection applies with equal strength to arti- cles and creeds 5 ^ {c.) Doctrinal formularies often open new points of departure 5^ {(/.) There is an especial promise of grace attached to the reading of Scripture 52 {e.) Religious indifferentism apt to be produced by an alleged infallible church test 53 2. That by this position creeds are superseded 54 Answer. {a.) The creed thereby acquires its true force, as man's response to God, as revelation is God's utter- ance to man 54 [b.) A creed is a protest against error 56 {c.) Creeds and articles become thus the tests of indi- vidual membership in the church 57 No one not accepting has a right to remain in the church that imposes them 58 II. Practical consequences of this truth that all doctrine is to be verified fi-om Scripture. 1. Devout care in reading the sacred text 59 Rules for such study 59, 60 2. Toleration of those who differ on points which the sa- cred text does not determine 60, 61 TABLE OF CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER VI. THE VIRGIN MARY. PAGE Silence of Scripture on whatever would draw our thoughts from the worship of Christ 64 This peculiarly the case as to the Virgin Mary 64 Others employed as missionaries — she never 65 Others invested with supernatural power — she never 66 Others spoken of as counselors — she never 66 Cause of this silence to be found in the fact that God screens from us whatever would draw us from the great central truth of revelation — God manifest in the flesh 68 1. The nature of this truth 68 Christ the one perfect and universal Man ... 69 As such He is the sole Mediator for all, whatever be their temperaments, or rank, or nation 70 2. The danger to this truth, from the imwillingness of the natural heart to adtnit in the Godhead those qualities of sympathy arui of tenderness toxuard man which are essen- tial to a true belief in the incarnation of Christ 7 1 Illustration of this tendency in the Church of Rome, which, from divesting Christ of his perfect and all- sjnmpathizing Humanity, has proceeded to set up human mediators in His place 75 3. The lessons of Christ's Humanity as thus brought be- fore us 75 {a.) His oblation and satisfaction 76 {b.) His elevation of humanity 76 (<:.) His intercession as Man 77 {d.) The union of His people with Him in glory 77 Application of this doctrine to our practical life 78 CHAPTER VII. THE lord's personal APPEARANCE, AND ITS RELATIONS. The tendency to commemorate the appearance of a departed friend, almost universal 80 Silence on this topic in the sacred narratives 81 am TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAOX This silence not to be attributed to want of affection 82 Nor to want of circumstantiality 82 Nor to scantiness of personal association 83 But to the divine purpose to withdraw us from the local- ization and materialization of God ift epoch, or image, or shrine 86 Express warnings against this tendency 86 I. The deep-seatedness of this tendency 87 (a.) As to epochs and anniversaries 87 (d.) As to relics and images 88 (Ti Der an dem nachsten Morgen mir zuerst Entgegen kommt mit einem Liebeszeichen." Wallenstein's Tod, II. 3. 20 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. tension gives, it is one which Christianity, solitary in this respect among all religions appealing to Divine sanc- tion, most expressly disclaims. It avails itself of no such curiosity j it appeals to no such superstitious yearnings, tremendous as is the power to be thus invoked. It gives no mechanism by which the future may be forecast. It appoints no oracular priesthood. And not only this, but it pronounces the future destinies of the individual to be impenetrable to the human eye. " I returned, and saw that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all. For man also knoweth not his time." " We know not what shall be on the morrow." And again : " There shall be two in the field : the one shall be taken and the other left. Watch, therefore, for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come." "Go to, now," so speaks St. James, "ye who say. To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year ; whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow." Strange utterances these, at a period when every religion had its oracles ; and when, as if on the eve of some great convulsion, voices of Di- vination, mixed with the cries of demoniac possession, seemed to issue from the whole surface of the moral world.^ And stranger still the silence which Chris- tianity, when all other religious systems provided oracle and shrine, preserved on this whole question of the in- 1 Archbishop Trench, in his Treatise on Miracles, (p. 162,) says: — " If there was anything that marked the period of the Lord's coming in the flesh, it was the wreck and confusion of man's spiritual life. The whole period was the hour and power of darkness ; of a darkness which then, immediately before the dawn of a new day, was the thickest." DIVINATION. 2 1 dividual future, standing with finger on the lip, as if to say, " As to this I have no voice, neither shalt thou.'* In view of the prevalence of Divination in those days ; in view of the immense power it exercised over the sen- sibilities and fears of men ; in view of the fact that in the popular mind, oracle and shrine were indispensable to religious faith,^ — the silence of the Apostles on this point, — their stern dissociation of themselves and their 1 Juvenal, in his sixth satire, speaks at large of divination as an essen- tial ftature of all religious rites. After specifj-ing several cases, the fol- lowing summary is given : — " The curse is universal : high and low Are mad alike the future hour to know. The rich consult a Babylonian seer, Skilled in the mysteries of either sphere ; Or a gray -headed priest, hired by the state, To watch the lightning, and to expiate. The middle sort, a quack, at whose command They lift the forehead, and make bare the hand. The poor apply to humbler cheats, still found Beside the circus wall, or city mound; While she, whose neck no golden trinket bears, To the dry ditch, or dolphin's tower, repairs. And anxiously inquires which she shall choose. The tapster, or old clothes-man ? Which refuse ? " Gifford's Translation, lines 83&-60. The reference to Judaism is much weakened by Mr. Giflford. I give the original : — " Cum dedit ille locum, cophino fenoque relicto Arcanam Judaea tremens mendicat in aurem , Interpres legiun Solymarum et magna sacerdos Arboris ac summi fida intemuntia coeli — " It will be seen by this that the claim to divination was prominently put forth by the Jews at Rome. No impostor would have neglected so powerful an element of fascina- tion ; but by the Apostles it was not only disclaimed but denounced. In St. Paul's case, one of the most violent persecutions he encountered was from his having silenced an oracle of Divination out of which the owners obtained " much gain." — Acts xvi. 16. 22 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. work from any such power, is accountable in no other way than by the direction of the Most High. The utterances which human wisdom could not have averted, must have been silenced by Divine. But it is with the lessons of this, the silencing of Divination, that we have to do ; and the first is, that we find in Christianity alone a true revelation of the real relations of man to God, so far as the disposal of the future is concerned. In His hand are contained results, leaving duties alone to us. The oars of Providence are muffled. We know not our hour ; and hence we are to labor as if we were to live forever, and trust as if we were to die to-night. Our eyes are blinded to the future wherever we have freedom of action ; they are open to the future only when that freedom of action is refused. We can foresee an eclipse a thousand years hence, but we cannot avert it ; we could avert a con- flagration by which our own home may be burned to-night, but we cannot foresee it. On the one side, consciousness of mighty powers of perception in things not concerning self ; on the other side, the necessity of trust, faith, and resignation in all that concerns self j — these are the spiritual truths we here learn. Nor is the subject without moral lessons of almost equal moment. There could be no courage in the en- durance of difficulties ; no energy in surmounting them ; no wise care of emergencies ; none of that sagacious industry which provides against each of the several chances of loss ; none of that heroism which derives its dignity and manliness from its battle against opposition which is often as unexpected as it is defiant. The highest type of moral greatness, in fact, is built up and developed by the very endurance and comprehensive- THE FUTURE : WHY VEILED. 23 ness which this struggle against the unforeseen imparts. It has been said that Washington and William of Or- ange became great generals by defeats ; to these they owed the majesty which disappointment could not shock ; the training of mind and nerve which neglected nothing, and presumed on nothing ; the habit of asso- ciating the triumph of right with the far future, and not with the present's verdict ; and the largeness of intellect which could plan for success comprehensively, and when success at last came, receive it with tranquil and un- dated brow. And so it is with us in the battles of life. Whatever greatness may belong to our moral powers will be largely traceable to the difficulties which this, the future's darkness, heaps in our path. But it is mainly with our affections that this question concerns itself; and living as we do in this world of wrongs and griefs, it is hard to see how our affections could grow, were not the future mercifully hid. Ob- serve how it would be with our wrongs. It would be a weary and unbounteous Vv^orld in which men should al- ways foresee the alienations and ingratitudes of the days to come ! It would be a world in which there would be little of that unselfish trust ; that hoping against hope ; that readiness to try once more and forgive ; that long patience with the erring, which are among the most beautiful features in this our fallen state. All would be either horror at the certain crime, or selfish partnership in the assured success. And so with the griefs of life. I do not know how we could bear these if we saw them ahead. Most men who have reached mature years have known what it is to meet with some stunning blow on the hearth and heart ; what would it have been if this blow had been 24 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. foreseen ? It may have been in some matter of busi- ness economy, when, without any moral wrong, the whole fabric of prosperit}^ may be suddenly swept away. It may be such a case as that of the late Mr. Wilder, whose history has recently been so effectively told ; and in which almost a lifetime of honorable business suc- cess, and of noble hospitalit}^, and of large beneficence, was suddenly, and sharply, and finally terminated by a bankruptcy as undeserved as it was irremediable. But how would that noble hospitality have become a grief and a shame, and that liberal hand have been para- lyzed, had the ruin of final years been foreseen ? Mac- beth, as soon as the event on which depended his pre- dicted overthrow ceased to be improbable, — when the woods approached the castle, and he not born of woman appeared, — cried out in despair that his resolution was palled, and his manhood gone. And so others less guilty than Macbeth would speak, if the disasters of the future were to each of us foretold. And so with bereavements. There may be some who can recall some sharp, unwarned affliction which to have foreseen would have been to the heart an agony beyond its capacity to endure. It was the stunning qualities that belonged to the blow's suddenness that made it tolerable ; it was the ether of unexpectedness which enabled the sufierer to sustain a pain which otherwise would have been beyond his strength. And it is one of God's tenderest providences, that often this oblivion to the coming shock continues, to those to whom it would be greatest, when with those less near the eye is opened, so that the heart that would be other- wise crushed, is able cheerfully to persevere in its min- istry of love. Hoping with hope and against hope, such CHRIST LIFTING THE VEIL. 25 is the philosophy written on this veil by which the future is shut off. I do not know how we could bear it were it otherwise. I do not know where would be the brightness left to life were this veil withdrawn. To those who ever followed a child to the grave, — what years of hope, of delight, of the sweetest pleasure that earth affords, would have been lost ; with what leaden skies would those years have been overhung, could that death have been foreseen ! How would it have been possible to have looked on that childish face without the bitterest of pangs! And the future — how with that ? Who is there that may not in a few months be summoned to that sternest and most awful of scenes, — the parting with our most loved ? To whom may not soon be assigned the solitary house where no longer is heard the voice at once most familiar and most cherished ? And what a stupor would fall over us were this revealed ; how would each step forward be only a step into deeper gloom ; how would the fountain of affection pour forth not love, but bitterness, and horror, and despair. It is in mercy that God con- ceals as well as reveals. It is to make this life a true period of probation, in which grow not only the noblest virtues, but the most refining affections of heart, that the future is thus covered by a veil. Yet there was One before whose eye this veil was lifted ; One who, in assuming humanity's griefs, took not humanity's blindness, but united grief's dread an- ticipation with its present pang. From the outset of His public ministry the desertion and horror of its close stood out fully before His Divine eye. " I have a bap tism," so He spoke almost at the outset, " to be baptized with ; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished." 26 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. Even in the glory of the Mount of Transfiguration, when, in communion with His celestial visitants, " they spake," so it is recorded, " of the decease which He was to accomplish at Jerusalem." Then, as the event drew nigh, He went forth to meet it with a full knowledge of its approach. " Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and the Son of man shall be betrayed unto the Chief Priests and Scribes, and they shall condemn Him to death, and shall deliver Him to the Gentiles, to mock, and to scourge, and to crucify Him." And when the last sharp blow was about to fall, " Jesus, knowing all things that were to come upon Him, went forth." He stood alone, therefore, in bearing the full burden of human affliction, for He bore its anticipation as well as its shock. It brings the loveliness and grandeur of His character more fully before us when we recollect that thus fore- seeing He shrank not back, neither turned with averted eye from those whom He knew would desert and betray Him ; would scoff Him, and nail Him to the tree. He drew not back, but calmly went forward to the cross. He reproached not, but blessed, and healed, and pleaded, yet not for Himself but for them. There is something in this combination of tenderness, of pre- science, of power, which in itself proclaims the Divine, and leads us to kneel and cry, " All hail unto Thee, O Christ, despised and rejected of men, bearing for us the foreseen cross." And as we thus gaze and worship, other features in the Master appear. He was chastised for our iniquities ; the burden of our sins was upon Him ; and this He bore that we might be saved. It was the fuller cup that He took, leaving the lesser to us ; He sheltered us from a storm which was greater than we could bear, sustaining its full shock. The doctrine CHRIST THE AVERTER. 27 of His substituted sacrifice for us, therefore, ripens to its fulness as we view His life and passion in this light : it was a finished work, a full mantle ; a robe whose protection from the judgments we deserve is complete. Tremble not, then, O believer, who takest refuge in Him, in a loving and living faith, for the salvation of the Lord is sure. And in all your sufferings and griefs, and be- reavements and fears, lean on Him in perfect trust, knowing that more than this He bore for the love of you, and that there is no pang you can bear which He cannot Himself feel, as your just and merciful High-priest. But what will it be to be left to bear alone, unsheltered, and unsoothed, the full storms of those eternal pains where the despair of a certain future of wretchedness is joined to the remorse for an abused past ! CHAPTER IV. LITURGY. LORD, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples ; " and in answer to this petition our blessed Lord set forth a prayer, which, precious and obligatory as it is, must constitute, from its very brevity, but a small fraction of the petitions offered on occasions of stated public worship. And the omission is most remarkable. History gives no other example of the in- stitution of a religious communion whose founders did not include in its articles a directory for public worship. And yet so far from such being the case with Christian- ity, our Lord, in His reply to His disciples, leaves the whole mode and material of public worship undeter- mined ; and His Apostles exercised with equal scru- pulousness the same reserv^e. There is no form of prayer set forth in the New Testament except the Lord's Prayer ; and while we have frequent mention of prayers being offered, of the breaking of bread, and of baptism, the only two prayers of the Apostles which are recorded in words, had reference to such extraordi- nary occasions as make them unsuitable for the usual purposes of worship.^ To what, then, is this remark- able and evidently designed omission of a settled form 1 Acts L 24; iv. 24. LITURGY : WHY NOT DIVINELY PRESCRIBED. 29 either for worship or the administration of the sacra- ments to be traced ? And first, clearly not to disapprobatmi of a liturgical form. If such disapprobation, on so important a point, were to be expressed, it would be expressed distinctly ; and besides this, the silence strikes deeper : it reaches to the order of all worship, of whatever type. And if the test of presumption is to be resorted to, the pre- sumptions all are that liturgical worship was at least not discountenanced by our Lord. He certainly wor- shiped according to the liturgy in use in the Jewish Church. He showed that there was no principle against liturgical worship, by setting forth at least one form of prayer, — a prayer which, as in the plural number, implies that its first scope is that of joint, as distinguished from individual, use. He attached peculiar efficacy to prayers in which His people " shall agree together touching something they shall ask in His name ; " and this agreement requires some sort of joint prior preparation. And again, liturgies sprang up in the Primitive Church at a period so early as to raise an almost irresistible presumption that liturgical worship of some kind was common under the directions of the Apostles themselves. And then, how essential, we may well argue, must have been a grave, settled, common worship, to communities so uninstructed and so heterogeneous, as those which made up the early Church. If now a liturgy is one of the most effective instruments of Christian education ; if it brings up the young, by their holiest memories, in the true faith ; if it is the only adequate method of introducing to us ki due order the Christian Year in its spiritual fulness and pow- er ; if now, when prepared with devout comprehensive- 30 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. ness, it is a more effective agent of spirituality than is an extemporaneous system, in which all depends on the gifts, the culture, the doctrine, or the tone of the minister for the time being ; if now one man's liberty in public prayer is often every body else's enthrallment, and the only true liberty is a common form agreed to by all ; — if thus, even with ourselves, orthodoxy, spirituality, and liberty unite so largely in recommending some sort of a liturgy, how eminently must this have been the case in the early Church, where the people were compara- tively untutored, and where on public worship, religious instruction so largely depended. In view, then, of the individual usages of the Lord and his Apostles, in view of the practice of the early Church, in view of the wants of that Church, we have no right to connect the omis- sion, in the New Testament, of liturgical presumption with any thing like a disapprobation of a liturgical form. What, then, does so remarkable an omission teach ? And first, we may find an answer in the truth that prayer is not man's mechanical repetition of God's pre- scripts^ but man's voluntary response to GocTs revealed word. Formularies of aJl kinds become mechanical just in proportion as they are arbitrarily imposed. How dully, for instance, do the forms of our common-law courts sound to the officers compelled by law to repeat them, and how vivid and momentous they are to those not under such constraint, but who are individually con- cerned in their application. How sharply does the ar- raignment of a prisoner, and the swearing of a jury, cut into the consciousness of the prisoner himself; yet how smoothly do the same forms float over the attention of crier and clerk. I do not say that this tells against a liturgy ; because a liturgy, in a Protestant communion, liturgy: why not divinely prescribed. 31 is taken not as divinely prescribed, but as the choice of the worshiper himself. But I do say that this passive- ness on the worshiper's part is apt to rise just in propor- tion as a liturgy is supposed to be verbally prescribed and limited by the express direction of God. Hence the tendency in the Romish Church, which claims this au- thority, to turn its prayers into formulas used largely in an unknown tongue, and designated by their first words, and packed up, as it were, and labelled in this way, and attached to beads, recited as if by title. A missionary who penetrated into Tartary a few years since, mentions a habit he there observed in the native priests, of attach- ing particular prayers to the spokes of a wheel, and then, on giving the latter a whirl, supposing their de- votions were properly offered. Devout as are many metnbers of the Romish Church, the idea that their prayers are made up by an infallible authority, and that they are complete in themselves by God's own fiat, tends very often to the notion that with them human participation has nothing to do, and that they are to be offered up, as far as possible, unalloyed by human choice or human thought. It is a vicarious worship ; if the priest does not intercede for the worshiper, the prayer does. And the silence of our Lord on this point, while it strengthens the reasons for a liturgy in public worship, by enhancing the responsibility of the exercises in which we thus engage, unites with the express utter- ances of Scripture in warning us how thoroughly we must throw our choice, our judgment, our consciousness, our affections, into the petitions we offer to His throne. " God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must wor- ship Him in spirit and in truth." " Use not vain rep- etitions, as the heathen do." " Pray without ceasing." 32 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. " Pray with the understanding." " Men ought always to pray and not to faint." And then the Lord's silence on this point seems to add : " Listening and answering are mine ; praying, yours. See then that prayer indeed be yours. Choose the words ; choose them gravely and ably ; choose them as individuals in personal prayer ; choose them, it may be, as a Church, for congregational prayer ; but choose them as yours ; and with all your powers of attention and supplication, approach the throne." And then, a second reason for this omission may be found in the universality of the Church. It would have been easy to have framed a single liturgy which would have satisfied the wants of the first disciples ; but very soon, as the Church expanded, a system so narrow would have been a great impediment to growth. For, no- tice the varied elements which the Church was destined to comprehend. Almost at the outset are gathered to- gether " Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judaea, and Cappa- docia, in Pontus, and Asia ; Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and Proselytes, Cretes and Arabians," — nations embracing almost every peculiar- ity of language and of blood. And then, when the Church began to take organic shape, how varied were the phases of civilization which she was to meet and absorb. On this very question of worship, remember how the Latin intellect tended to comprehensive gen- eralization ; the Greek, to refined individualization ; the Oriental, to mystic contemplation. And then, even in our own time, after so many centuries of religious and commercial assimilation, how prominently do these LITURGY : WHY NOT DIVINELY PRESCRIBED. 33 contrasts of race start out, not merely between the in- habitants of distinct countries, but between those of dis- tinct races living on the same soil. An eminent clergy- man of the North of Ireland tells us that, during the Crimean war, he had occasion to see successively a com- pany of Irish soldiers, a company of English soldiers, and a company of Scottish soldiers, parting with their friends. " The parting of the English was undemon- strative but hearty and deep ; it was an attempted cheer ending in gushing tears, which they neither encouraged or discouraged. The Scottish women waved their hands, and had then to turn away to bur}' and hide their faces and the rolling tears. The Irish let it all out in unre- strained bursts, and loud and affecting wails." ^ Such are the variations of national temperament in the ex- pression of emotion ; and in individual temperament the variations, if more subtile and numerous, would be .scarcely less marked. " There are so many kinds of voices in the world," so speaks St. Paul, " and none of them without signification." ^ The gospel dispensation does not force these voices into one key and tone, but draws each to itself, according as each is best able to utter its prayer and praise. So it is that our blessed Lord left no liturgical form except one prayer, which is in the nature rather of a com mon base of worship than a universal structure ; and so it is that the Primitive Church, at the earliest period to which history takes us, possessed a series of litur- gies, each more or less free, and each adapted to the use of specific provinces or districts. There were diver- 1 The Ulster Revival^ etc., a pamphlet by the Rev. Jas. McCosh, LL. D. 1859. 2 1 Cor. xiv. 10. 8 34 THE SILENCE OF SCRIPTURE. sities of order ; there were varieties of expression ; there were openings for non-liturgical prayer ; there was a liberty which would have been inconsistent with a divinely prescribed liturg}', and which was at the same time essential to a Catholic Church which was to embrace all nations and tongues.-^ For men of all varieties of temperament were to join in that wor- ship : men, some of whom would find their most nat- ural expression in symbolism ; men, also, of passionate temperament and coarse temper, to whom the rude and 1 The Chmstian Remembrancer, a paper very far opposed to liturgical liberalism, thus fairly states the case with the early Church : — " It does not seem as if, at first, any thing more than the simple outlines of a ritual were given, fixing the few essential parts, and leaving the rest free. The very diversities of order in the Liturgies is a sign of this, still more the variations of expression, and, so far as Ave can judge from history and extant remains, those variations were greater in the early than in the later ages. The object of the requests, the evils to be depre- cated, the persons for whom intercession should be made, Avere in the main fixed ; beyond this it was left to the discretion and prayerful spirit of the Bishop of each church to choose the expression, to enlarge the subjects, to extend and contrast the fulness of his pra^-ers. Hence we read in St. Justin Martyr, that the celebrant praj^ed and gave thanks 6