As regards London, the statistics of Unitarianism are easy of collection. In their register we have thenames of fifteen places of worship, where Holy Scripture is the only rule of faith, and difference of opinion is no bar to Christian communion. In reality Unitarians are stronger than they seem, as in their congregations you will find many persons of influence, of social weight, of literary celebrity. For instance, Sir Charles Lyell and Lord Amberley are, I believe, among the regular attendants at Mr. Martineau’s chapel in Portland Street. At that chapel for many years Charles Dickens was a regular hearer. The late Lady Byron, one of the most eminent women of her day, worshipped in Essex Street Chapel, when Mr. Madge preached there. In London the Unitarians support a domestic mission, a Sunday-school association, an auxiliary school association, and a London district Unitarian society.
It is not often that Unitarianism is aggressive, or that it seeks the heathen in our streets perishing for lack of knowledge. Apparently it dwells rather on the past than the present, and prefers the select and scholarly few to the unlettered many. Most Unitarian preachers lack popular power; hence it is that their places of worship are rarely filled, and that they seemtacitly to assume that such is the natural and necessary condition of their denomination. It is with them as it used to be with the old orthodox Dissenters in well endowed places of worship some thirty or forty years ago. Of them, I well remember one in a leading seaport in the eastern counties. I don’t believe there was such another heavy and dreary place in all East Anglia, certainly there never was such a preacher; more learned, more solemn, more dull, more calculated in a respectable way to send good people to sleep, or to freeze up the hot blood and marrow of his youthful hearers. Once and but once there was a sensation in that chapel. It was a cold evening in the very depth of winter. There was ice in the pulpit, and ice in the pew. The very lamps seemed as if it was impossible for them to burn, as the preacher in his heaviest manner discoursed of themes on which seraphs might love to dwell. All at once rushed in a boy, exclaiming “Fire, fire!” The effect was electric—in a moment that sleepy audience was startled into life, every head was raised and every ear intent. Happily the alarm was a false one, but for once people were awake, and kept so till the sermon was done. It is the aim of Mr. Applebee in the same way to rouse up the Unitarians, and in a certainsense he has succeeded. He has now been preaching some eighteen months in London, in the old chapel on Stoke Newington Green, where, for many years, Mrs. Barbauld was a regular attendant, and where long the pulpit was filled by no less a distinguished personage than Burke and George the Third’s Dr. Price; the result is that the chapel is now well filled. It is true it is not a very large one; nevertheless, till Mr. Applebee’s advent, it was considerably larger than the congregation. Before Mr. Applebee came to town he had produced a similar effect at Devonport; when he settled there he had to preach to a very small congregation, but he drew people around him, and ere he left a larger chapel had to be built. I take it a great deal of his popularity is due to his orthodox training. It is a fact not merely that Unitarianism ever recruits itself from the ranks of orthodoxy, but that it is indebted to the same source for its ablest, or rather most effective ministers.
In the morning Mr. Applebee preaches at Stoke Newington; in the evening he preaches at 245, Mile End. It seems as if in that teeming district no amount of religious agency may be ignored or despised. In the morning of the Sabbath as you walk there, you could scarce fancy you were in a Christian land. Itis true, church bells are ringing and the public-houses are shut up, and well-clad hundreds may be seen on their way to their respective places of worship, and possibly you may meet a crowd of two or three hundred earnest men in humble life singing revival hymns as they wend their way to the East London Theatre, where Mr. Booth teaches of heaven and happiness to those who know little of one or the other; nevertheless, the district has a desolate, God-forsaken appearance. There are butchers’ shops full of people, pie-shops doing a roaring trade, photographers all alive, as they always are, on a Sunday. If you want apples or oranges, boots or shoes, ready-made clothes, articles for the toilette or the drawing-room, newspapers of all sorts—you can get them anywhere in abundance in the district; and as you look up the narrow courts and streets on your left, you will see in the dirty, eager crowds around ample evidence of Sabbath desecration. I heard a well-known preacher the other day say it was easy to worship God in Devonshire. Equally true is it that it is not easy to worship Him in Mile End or Whitechapel. The Unitarians assume that a large number of intelligent persons abstain from attending a religious service on Sundays in the most part “because the doctrinesusually taught” are “adverse to reason and the plain teaching of Jesus Christ.” Under this impression they have opened the place in Mile End. In a prospectus widely circulated in the district, they publish a statement of their creed as follows: 1. That “there is but one God, one undivided Deity, and one Mediator between God and man—the man Christ Jesus.” 2. That “the life and teachings of Jesus Christ are the purest, the divinest, and truest;” His death consecrating His testimony and completing the devotion of His life; his resurrection and ascension forming the pledge and symbol of their own. 3. “That sin inevitably brings its own punishment, and that all who break God’s laws must suffer the penalty in consequence;” at the same time they “reject the idea with abhorrence that God will punish men eternally for any sins they may have committed or may commit.” Such is the formula of doctrine, on which as a basis the Unitarian Mission at Mile End has been established, and to a certain extent with some measure of success. It is charged generally against Unitarians that they have no positive dogma. The Unitarianism of Mr. Applebee has no such drawback. He has a definite creed, which, whether you believe it or not, at any rate you can understand. In theeyes of many working men, that is of the class to whom he preaches at Mile End, he has also the additional advantage of being well known in the political arena. As a lecturer on behalf of advanced principles in many of our large towns he has produced a very great effect. I confess I have not yet overcome the horror I felt when I saw at the last election how night after night he spoke at Northampton on behalf of Mr. Bradlaugh’s candidature. Surely a secularist can have no claim as such on the sympathies of a Christian minister. Yet at Northampton Mr. Applebee laboured as if the success of Mr. Bradlaugh were the triumph of Gospel truth, and as if in the pages of theNational Reformerthe working men, to whom it especially appeals, might learn the way to life eternal. But Mr. Applebee is by no means alone. In Stamford Street Chapel and in Islington you have what I believe the Unitarians would consider still more favourable specimens of aggressive Unitarianism.
Tertullian wrote in his apology, or rather in his appeal, to the heathen persecutors on behalf of the Christians of his age, “We are but a people of yesterday, and yet we have filled every place belonging to you—cities, islands, castles, towns, assemblies, your very camps, your tribes, companies, palaces, senates, forum. We leave you your temples only. We can count your armies; our numbers in a single province will be greater.” The language was boastful, but it was founded on fact. Wesleyan orators might indulge in a similar rhetorical flourish. In 1729 John Wesley returned to Oxford, intending to reside there permanently as a tutor. He found that his brother Charles, then a student at Christ Church, had, during his absence, and chiefly through his influence, acquired views and feelings corresponding with his own, and had prevailed on two or threeyoung men to unite with him in receiving the Lord’s Supper weekly, and in cultivating strict morality in their conduct, and regularity in their demeanour. “Here is a new set of Methodists sprung up,” said one. The name took at once, and was thenceforth applied derisively to the little band. To this company John Wesley united himself; and of it his ardour and his wonderful talent of organization and for ruling his fellows soon made him the head. In the world’s history a hundred and thirty years is but a little while; the fathers and founders of Wesleyan Methodism have as it were but recently passed away. There may be some living now whose little eyes saw Wesley’s body carried to the grave in 1791, or whose young ears heard the last public utterances of the dying saint. And now it appears from the recently-published returns of the Conference that the total number of members, not mere attendants, at Wesleyan places of worship, is in Great Britain at the present time 342,380, being an increase of 5310; and there are upon trial besides for Church membership 24,926 candidates. A people which have thus grown, which have thus become a power in the State, to whom Dr. Pusey has appealed for aid, surely are well worth a study.
In an exhaustive work by Mr. Pierce we have, as it were, the inner life of Wesleyan Methodism, methodically arranged and placed in chronological order. “The attempt,” says the Rev. G. Osborn, D.D., in his Introductory Preface, “is made in honesty and candour; and has required a large amount of labour on the part of the compiler, which, however, his love and admiration of the system have made, if not absolutely pleasant, yet far less irksome than under other circumstances it would have been.” We must, in fairness, add that Mr. Pierce has certainly exhausted his theme, and his non-Wesleyan readers. A catechism of 800 large pages of small type is more trying than even that of the Assembly of Divines. Surely it was possible to do what Mr. Pierce has done in a more readable form. Still, however, his work is invaluable as a cyclopædia of Wesleyan faith, and organization, and practice.
Mr. Wesley had originally no intention of seceding from the Church of England. Dr. Stevens, in his very interesting work, has shown how, step by step, he was forced into secession, and was compelled, by the force of circumstances—the irresistible logic of events—to abandon his very strong Church principles. In this respect Conference has rigidly adheredto Wesley’s teaching. “What we are,” it stated in 1824, “as a religious body we have become both in doctrine and discipline by the leadings of the providence of God. But for the special invitation of the Holy Spirit that great work of which we are all the subjects, and which bears upon it marks so unequivocal of an eminent work of God, could not have existed. In that form of discipline and government which it has assumed it was adapted to no preconceived plan of man. Our venerable founder kept only one end in view—the diffusion of Scriptural authority through the land, and the preservation of all who had believed through grace in the simplicity of the Gospel. This guiding principle he steadily followed, and to that he surrendered cautiously but faithfully whatever in his preconceived opinions he discovered to be contrary to the indications of Him whose the work was, and to whom he had yielded up himself implicitly as His servant and instrument. In the further growth of the societies the same guidance of Providential circumstances, the same signs of the times, led to that full provision for the direction of the societies, and for their being supplied with all the ordinances of the Christian Church, and to that more perfect pastoral care which the number of themembers and the vastness of the congregations (collected not out of the spoils of other churches, but out of the world which lieth in wickedness) imperatively required.” Thus, practically abhorring the name of Dissent, Methodists became Dissenters themselves, and certainly as a sect put forth, as the above extract teaches, the strongest claims to a Divine origin and sanction.
In 1784 Conference had a legal habitation and a name. All power was then placed in its hands as regards the Wesleyans. “The duration of the yearly assembly of Conference shall not be less than five days nor more than three weeks.” It has to fill up vacancies by death, elect a President and Secretary, expel or receive preachers—who must, however, have been in connexion with it as preachers for twelve months,—and regulate all the affairs of the body. Appointments of preachers are limited for three years. According to the original rule, no person could be a member of the Methodist Society unless he met in class. If he neglected to do so for three weeks in succession (if not prevented by sickness, distance, or unavoidable business), he was considered by such neglect to exclude himself. Consequently, the meeting in class is still made a fundamental conditionof membership, and is indeed the only gate of admission into society. Once a quarter each of these classes is visited by one of the travelling preachers, for the purpose of ascertaining the spiritual state of every member, and giving to each a ticket or printed badge of membership, by the production of which he is admitted to any of the more private means of grace. The preachers are instructed to give notes to none till they are recommended by a leader with whom they have met at least two months on trial. If in the opinion of a leader any reasonable objection exists to the character and conduct of any person who is on trial, such may be stated, and, if established to the satisfaction of the meeting, the ticket may be withheld. No backslider after gross sin may be readmitted till after three months. All members are expected to meet in the classes belonging to their respective circuits, and all persons acting as local preachers, class-leaders, stewards, conductors of prayer-meetings, or sustaining any other office in the body, are expected to belong to the circuits in which they reside. In order to avoid conformity to the world, it is forbidden to teach children dancing, to dress according to the fashion of the day, to drink spirits, to smoke tobacco, or take snuff, to indulge inevil conversation or strife. Music, and such-like diversions, are also interdicted. In the Conference of 1836 similar injunctions were repeated, as it observed with sincere regret in some quarters “a disposition to indulge in and encourage amusements which it cannot regard as harmless or allowable.” The strict observance of the Sabbath is enforced. On that day members are not to employ a barber, or to trade, or go to a feast, or engage in any military exercise. In 1848, convinced of the great and growing importance of a careful observance of the Lord’s day to the Church of Christ and the nation at large, the Conference appointed a committee to watch over the general interests of the Sabbath, to observe the course of events in reference to it, to collect such information as may serve the cause of Sabbath observance, to correspond with persons engaged in similar designs, and to report from year to year the result of their inquiries, with such suggestions as they may think proper to offer. The duty of family worship is strongly recommended. The power of expulsion is conferred only on preachers, who have ever appointed leaders, chosen stewards, and admitted members. No one is to belong to the society who is guilty of smuggling or bribery at elections.
For the support of their ministers most careful provision has been made. The direct means by which funds are raised is that of weekly and quarterly collections in the classes, and quarterly collections in all the chapels. It is expected that every member, in accordance with the original rule of Mr. Wesley, should contribute at least one penny per week and one shilling per quarter.
I have spoken of the class meetings. Band Societies are the same, except that they are divided into smaller companies and are on a stricter plan as to the faithful interchange of mutual reproof and advice. The questions proposed to every one before he is admitted are such as these: Have you forgiveness of your sins? Have you peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ? Have you the witness of God’s Spirit with your own that you are a child of God? Is the love of God shed abroad in your heart? Has no sin, outward or inward, dominion over you? Do you desire to be told of all your faults? Do you desire that every one of us should tell you from time to time whatever we fear—whatever we hear concerning you—that in doing this we should cut to the quick and search your heart to the bottom? And so on. Again, at everymeeting it is to be asked, “What known sins have you committed since our last meeting? What temptations have you met with? How were you delivered? What have you thought, said, or done of which you doubt whether it be sin or not?” To the members of these bands the minutest injunctions are given. Amongst other things, they are to “pawn nothing—no, not to save life.”
Society Meetings were instituted by Mr. Wesley immediately after the formation of the first Methodist Society, and were regarded by him of great importance in a spiritual point of view. All preachers were to hold them on the Lord’s day; only those members who had tickets were to be admitted. On these occasions the society is to be closely and affectionately addressed by the preacher on those important subjects which relate to personal and domestic religion. A Methodist love-feast is a meeting at which none are present but the members of the society, and such as have obtained special permission from the minister. The meeting begins with singing and prayer, after which the stewards, or other officials of the society, distribute to each person a portion of bread or cake, and then a little water. A collection is then made for the poor. Liberty is then given to all to relatetheir religious experience in accordance with the words of the Psalmist—“Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will tell what He hath done for my soul.” This service is usually held once a quarter, continues about two hours, and is concluded with prayer. The times for holding public prayer-meetings are not fixed by any established rule of the connexion, but are left to the discretion of the superintendent of the circuit, who usually appoints such times as may be most convenient to the people of the district. Prayer-meetings are generally held on Sunday mornings and week-days. Missionary prayer-meetings are held once a month, and meetings in private houses for prayer are strongly recommended. Quarterly days of fasting and humiliation are also held. The religious services known as Watch Nights are usually celebrated on the New Year’s-eve, but they are not always confined to the close of the year, for it is the custom of some places to hold them quarterly. On the first Sunday afternoon in the New Year, a solemn service is held entitled the Renewing of the Covenant. It generally commences at two and closes at five. None but members or those who have obtained special permission from the preacher may be present.
Baptism is regarded by the Methodists as a dedicatory act on the part of Christian parents. The Sacrament is their most solemn and sacred festival. In the bread and wine they see no mystical efficacy, but a significant emblem of the body and blood of Christ; but they do not make it the test of Church membership. Originally the Wesleyans went to their parish church for the purpose of celebrating it, and it was not till after Wesley’s death that the body received the Sacrament in their own chapels, and from their own ministers.
On the Sabbath morning public worship is usually commenced by the reading of the Church of England service in a more or less abridged form. The Conference has appointed that, where this is not done, the lessons for the day, as appointed by the Calendar, should be read. A hymn is then sung from a hymn-book compiled by Charles Wesley, and subsequently much enlarged. Extemporaneous prayer follows; then another hymn; then, unless the Church service has been previously used, the reading of portions of the Scriptures; then an extemporaneous sermon, and the worship is concluded with singing and prayer. With the exception of the Church service, the same order is observed in the evening.
Among Wesleyan institutions must be placed first and foremost pastoral instruction. Catechumen classes for the instruction and edification of the young are held by catechists. Sunday-schools were next established; then day and infant schools. In 1843 steps were taken for the establishment of the Wesleyan normal schools in Westminster. This led in 1856 to the establishment of the Westminster Training College. Other schools, such as those at Sheffield, Taunton, and Dublin exist for the children of such as can pay for a good education for their children. The Kingswood and Woodhouse Grove Schools are supported by the denomination for the free training of the children of preachers. Then steps were taken for the establishment of the Wesleyan Theological Institution at Richmond and Didsbury. In 1866 it was resolved to have one at Headingley for training missionaries. The responsibility of recommending candidates for the ministry originally rested upon the superintendent. He proposes him to the quarterly meeting. The candidate is then recommended to the ensuing annual district meeting, and they recommend him to Conference, who decide. The candidate must previously have been a local preacher. After a certain time of trial the candidate is ordainedor admitted into full connexion, after a private examination by the President and a few senior ministers whom he may select. The ordination is by imposition of hands. No travelling preacher can marry during the term of his probation without violating the rules and rendering himself liable to be dismissed from his itinerancy. There are besides, assistants and superintendent preachers. Every preacher shall be considered as a supernumerary for four years after he has desisted from travelling, and shall afterwards be deemed superannuated. No person is eligible to be a local preacher unless he be a regularly accredited member of society, and meet in class. He has to undergo an examination of a private nature.
It would take far more space than I have at command to continue the subject. The Wesleyans have a Stationary Committee to draw up a plan for stationing ministers; a Committee to guard their privileges; a Committee to look after and support worn-out preachers; another to consider the case of the widows; another for the maintenance of the children of ministers; another for the Home Mission and what is called the Contingent Fund. In 1862 Juvenile Home and Foreign Missionary Societies were established.The General Wesleyan Missionary Society, as it is now known, dates from 1817.
The chapels are, of course, the property of the denomination, and the same may be said of the preachers’ dwelling-houses. There is a Chapel Loan Fund, a Connexional Relief and Extension Fund, a Wesleyan Chapel Committee, and a Metropolitan Committee for the same purpose, which, since 1862, has granted 11,625l.to nineteen chapels in the metropolitan districts, which cost altogether 89,499l., and gave accommodation to more than 17,000 hearers.
The Methodist Book Establishment consists of the President and ex-President, the members of the London Book Committee, thirty-nine travelling preachers, and the representatives of the Irish Conference. There is also a Wesleyan Tract Society.
Such is Methodism on paper; of Methodism in practice we can only sayCircumspice. In London there are 132 Wesleyan, 54 Primitive Methodist, 52 United Methodist Free Church, 9 Reformed Wesleyan, and 13 Methodist New Connexion Chapels.
Methodism has one special institution. Its love-feasts are old—old as Apostolic times. Its classmeetings are the confessional in its simplest and most unobjectionable type, but in the institution of the watch-night it boldly struck out a new path for itself. In publicly setting apart the last fleeting moments of the old year and the first of the new to penitence, and special prayer, and stirring appeal, and fresh resolve, it has set an example which other sects are preparing to follow. In the Church of England the Methodist plan is being extensively carried out. On last New Year’s-eve there were midnight services in the churches in all parts of London. Especially have the Ritualists availed themselves of the opportunity. Dr. Cumming chose the occasion for preaching a sermon to young men, and Mr. Spurgeon’s great congregation met, as usual, to see the old year out and the new year in. But after all, the Methodist services were the most numerous. In the metropolitan district they advertised services on watch-night at no less than seventy-three chapels, and there were other smaller ones at which watch-services were held, though they were not advertised. At first sight there seem to be many obvious objections to midnight meetings. They keep people up late; they keep them out in the streets late; they interfere with the routine of business and the prescribed order of domestic life; they cause delicate people to wake up next morningwith an aching brow and a fevered frame. To others they bring catarrh, disorder of the mucous membrane, cold, necessitating as a remedy water-gruel and cough mixtures. Obviously, however, these are minor considerations. It may be asked: Is not the soul, that never dies, of more value than the body, which to-morrow may be dust and ashes? The life that now is—what is it compared with the life that is to come?
Last year’s eve I was one of a crowd that found their way to the ancient head-quarters of Wesleyanism—the fine old chapel which, it is to be hoped, will not be improved off the face of the earth, in the City Road. It was an unpleasant night to tear one’s self away from one’s study fire or the friendly circle. The rain was heavy, the streets were a mass of mud, and the melancholy lamps, which are the disgrace of such a metropolis as London, did little more than make the darkness visible. Over all the City a Stygian gloom prevailed, except where the light blazed forth from the gin-palaces, which seemed, as I passed, to be doing a roaring trade, and to be filled with sots but too happy to find an excuse for the glass. Occasionally also a cigar shop threw out a little ray of light on the pavement and across the street, and nowand then from an upper window the lamps gleamed, and you heard the click of billiards. So still was the traffic that even the beggars had gone home. Here and there an omnibus, here and there a cab crawling for the last time, for the new Act was to come into operation the next day—here and there a policeman, here and there a belated clerk, here and there an unfortunate—such were all you saw as you paced along the deserted City that night. You could almost fancy its inhabitants had fled as if an enemy were on its way, or as if the plague ran riot in its streets. A little after ten the scene began to change. Doors were opened by heads of families doubtful as to the state of the weather. Up area steps creeped ancient males and females to do what they had done years and years before. Children, young men and women, fathers and mothers, masters and servants, got out into the streets. I followed them, and was soon seated in the chapel in the City Road. All round me were monuments of Wesleyan worthies. It were a task too long to describe their virtues or record their memories here. Up in that pulpit Wesley preached, and there the imprint of his genius yet survives. It is hard to realize what a power Wesleyanism is. I did not expect to see many; in reality the commodiouschapel was well filled. The service began at half-past ten, but it was not till long past that hour that the congregation had entirely assembled. It seemed to me this was a great mistake. For half an hour or so the opening and shutting of doors and the entrance of hearers interfered much with the comfort of those who had already come. Under these circumstances the service was trying to all taking part in it. Neither preacher nor hearer had a fair chance. In reality the attraction of the night was the sermon of the pastor of the place, the Rev. M. C. Osborn, and he did not begin till his pulpit had been occupied by an assistant for an hour. After it was all over it puzzled me to perceive what had been gained by the preliminary service and the assistant’s sermon. The assistant was a young man, and it was the sort of a sermon a properly trained young man would preach. The subject was the barren figtree, a striking subject treated with all the tediousness of commonplace. It was clear the preacher had read more than he felt, or he would not have spoken of the responsibility of a figtree, or bothered himself with the threefold sense which cropped up under his three divisions—first, as to the figtree, then as to the state of the Jews to whom Christ told his parable, and then as to its applicability at thepresent time. His great virtues were fluency, perfect coolness and self-possession, and a distinct and powerful utterance. When he came to the terrible climax, when he spoke of the condemnation which awaited the finally impenitent, when he repeated how there could be no hope for such as they, how for them there was agony of which no tongue could tell the horror, or no imagination conceive, there was no pathos in his tones, no tear trembling in his eye, no sign of sensibility in his heart. The Saviour wept over Jerusalem as He saw the coming fate of the city that had mocked at His warnings, that had stoned the prophets, that was to crucify Himself. It did not seem to me that the sermon produced much effect. When it has been the writer’s privilege to converse with Wesleyans they have contrasted their warmth with the coldness of the services of other denominations; but in Episcopalian church or Independent or Baptist chapel—nay, at a Quaker’s meeting—such a service as that preliminary to Mr. Osborn’s appearance might have been held without causing any sensation on account of its extra warmth and fire. It was plain, and simple, and orthodox, and when it was over the people seemed to feel that the proper thing had been said, and that was all.
Mr. Osborn next entered the pulpit, while the people were singing with well-trained voices and without the help of an organ one of the well-known Wesleyan hymns. His appearance excites confidence. As he stood up there seemed in his face something of the fatherly feeling of a real, not a conventional bishop. A lay brother engaged in prayer. In spite of its boisterous tone and stentorianOhsandandsit was deep, and heartfelt, and impressive, and invoked the responses which custom permits in a Wesleyan chapel alone. Then came a short sermon from Mr. Osborn, from the text in Jeremiah which tells how “the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” In his hands the text suggested three thoughts—1. There are special seasons for men to become religious. 2. There is a possibility of letting such seasons pass away unimproved. 3. A time will come when the consciousness of such neglected seasons will awaken in the mind bitter memory and unavailing regret. The sermon was in its way wonderfully ripe and full. To every man living under the Gospel is salvation offered. To some that offer is made in youth, or by the preaching of the Gospel, or by providential dispensations, or by revivals of religion occurring in their neighbourhood. But God never coercesany one, nor interferes with man’s free will. Human law proceeds upon the supposition of man’s perfect ability to control his actions, and God does the same. The grace of God is resistible, as the Bible shows in the case of the Antediluvians, of Pharaoh, and Jerusalem; but too late people who resist that grace will remember it, and that remembrance will form the most bitter ingredient in their lot. As it is, when people are going wrong, they refuse to think. The preacher then dwelt on the last words—not saved. Most powerfully did he carry out that meaning as he pictured the shipwrecked mariner who sees the sail that was to have saved him pass out of sight; or as the besieged army behold the succour that was to have rescued them cut off; or as the criminal left for execution hears there is no reprieve for him; or as that poor woman with her babe and little ones, who found the other night (alluding to a tragedy which had just occurred) the fire-escape failed to reach them, and fell a sacrifice to the devouring flames. But whilst there was life there was hope; and then the preacher appealed to all on that last night of the old year to accept God’s offer of life, and to cast themselves at His feet. For about ten minutes every head was bowed in silent prayer. In thatgreat assembly I saw no wandering eye; and then, just after the clock had struck twelve, all rose to sing—
“Come let us anew our journey pursue;”
“Come let us anew our journey pursue;”
and after a short prayer by the preacher for blessings during the coming year, the service closed, and out I went into the streets, suddenly as it were wakened up into life—while church bells rang out the old 1869, and rang ina.d.1870.
Modern Christianity, it is often said, has little in common with that of apostolic times: I fear it is equally true that the Quakerism of to-day has little in common with the heroic Quakerism of an earlier day. It was in 1646, during the prevalence of civil and religious commotions, that George Fox commenced his labours as minister of the Gospel, being then in the twenty-third year of his age. It was a hard time of it he and his disciples had; no men ever fared worse and for less provocation given, at the hands of arbitrary powers, than did the Quakers. Baxter thus describes them:—“They made the light which every man hath within him to be his sufficient rule, and consequently the Scripture and ministry were set light by. They spake much for the dwelling and working of the Spirit in us, but little of justification and the pardon of sin and ourreconciliation with God through Jesus Christ. They pretend their dependence on the Spirit’s conduct against set times of prayer and against sacraments, and against undue esteem of Scripture and ministry. They will not have the Scriptures called the Word of God. Their principal zeal lieth in railing at the ministers as hirelings, deceivers, false prophets, &c., and in refusing to swear before a magistrate, or to put off their hat to any, or to sayyouinstead ofthouorthee, which are their words to all. At first they did use to fall into wailings and tremblings at their meetings, and pretend to be intently acted on by the Spirit, but now that is ceased. They only meet, and he that pretendeth to be moved by the Spirit speaketh, and sometimes they say nothing but sit an hour or more in silence and then depart.” The most fiery, the most untameable of men were the old Quakers, now a Friend is the sleekest and fattest of men; lives in a style of the utmost comfort, and wears the best of everything; there are no such homes of luxury, no such lives of ease as amongst the Quakers. It is no wonder they are a long-lived race. They mingle little with the world, and find a peace which often the worldlings miss. As a religious organization they are becoming weaker every day; they have afew chapels in various parts of London, but as the old worshippers die off no new ones appear. At their last annual meeting Mr. R. Barclay, who referred with satisfaction to the fact that all over the land, Sunday by Sunday, 1100 Friends were engaged in teaching 1400 children and 3000 adults, regretted to find that no other Church had declined so much either in this country or in America since 1720. In the United States 13,000 seats were closed in the meeting-houses between 1850 and 1860. “If,” said he, “other Churches had declined as we have done, Christianity must have died out.” As regards the metropolis they seem to be in a little better condition; the last statistics of membership show an increase of 95 in the year, the whole number being 6608 males, 7286 females; total, 13,894; the births exactly balanced the deaths. There were 121 new members from convincement and 61 resignations, against 31 disownments there were 19 reinstated. The habitual attenders at the places of worship are 3803, being an increase of 145. It was remarked by a senior Friend that the resignations were fewer and the convincements more than in any year since accounts had been kept; Mr. Tallack gave it as his opinion that the Society was never more healthy,not even in the first years of its existence; J. Grubb believed that there was a considerable change for the better, both as regards public and private prayer. It is to be hoped such may turn out to be the case. The great characteristic testimony of the Friends, particularly against ecclesiastical pretensions on the one side and against religious forms on the other, is as much requisite now as ever; there is, as one of their official documents remarks, “a strong tendency in the human mind to substitute the form of religion for the power, and to satisfy the conscience by a cold compliance with exterior performances while the heart remains unchanged. And inasmuch as the baptism of the Holy Ghost and the communion of the body and blood of Christ, of which water baptism, and bread and wine, are admitted to be only signs, are not dependent on those outward ceremonies or necessarily connected with them, and are declared in Holy Scripture to be effectual to the salvation of the soul, which the signs are not, Friends have always believed it to be their place and duty to hold forth to the world a clear and decided testimony to the living substance—the spiritual work of Christ in the soul and a blessed communion with him there.” Practically, in the promotion of temperance andeducation, in the improvement of prisons and prison discipline, in the advocacy of universal peace and freedom, in philanthropy and charity, the Friends have ever led the way. For such ends they have freely sacrificed money and time, and energy and life itself; nor do they forget those of their own household, as it were; every poor Friend who may be unable to earn a livelihood usually receives aid from his brother members to the extent of 20l.to 40l.per annum (administered privately in general), according to age or infirmity. When the poorer Friends are out of a situation they are often helped to obtain employment by various arrangements under free registries, and by the aid of private inquiries for vacancies. In addition it may be remarked that a large number of charitable bequests and special funds have been bequeathed for the local or general benefit of the members of this religious community. The City of London owes much to Quakers, who in time past by their industry and self-denial laid the foundations of many of its noblest charities and its most princely mercantile establishments.
Long, long ago the wise men came from the East,and from the east of England has come to us a man wise, in the opinion of his friends, in the best wisdom. It is of Mr. Jonathan Grubb I write, who has been living in Sudbury for many years, and who for the last twelve or fourteen has almost entirely devoted himself to missionary work in various parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland. I think as a temperance lecturer he first came before the public. It was the sin of drunkenness which first led him to lecturing. He had seen the evils of intemperance; he had seen what poverty, what wretchedness and crime were its results; and much and deeply moved thereby he mounted the platform, which more or less ever since has been familiar with his name. While in Cornwall on one occasion he found an opportunity of talking on something else—on that common salvation without which, in the opinion of pious people, temperance itself is of little worth. The opportunity was one of great spiritual benefit, and ever since he has been engaged in what is called by the denomination to which he belongs—the denomination whose energetic and untiring philanthropy has been honoured all the world over—the denomination which, from the days of George Fox, has ever borne a silent protest against the frivolities of fashion and the vanities of life—public preaching. In the opinion of those excellent people an ordinary minister is not a public preacher at all. They reserve that title exclusively for one who, like Mr. Grubb, goes out into the world, as it were, collects the crowds by the wayside, on the seashore, in the crowded street, and there, to those for whose souls few care, who otherwise would perish for lack of knowledge, proclaims that Gospel which tells how, for such as they, pardon can be secured and life and immortality brought to light. In our day no Friend is more extensively engaged in this work than Mr. Grubb. In all parts of Suffolk his labours have been many. In various districts of the metropolis he has been similarly engaged. He has also spent much time in Ireland—where he has been listened to and aided by Roman Catholic and Protestant alike. It was only on one occasion that he has ever been prevented from preaching by the intrusion of a mob, and that was (tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askalon) in no less ancient and respectable a borough than that of Bury St. Edmunds. In the filthiest and most depraved districts of London, in the very heart of Roman Catholic Ireland, he has never been interfered with at all. Of course some of this success is due to Mr. Grubb himself. With hisone aim to tell how sinners may be saved, he has been remarkably successful in avoiding collision with class feelings and sectarian animosities. His manner is also eminently kind and gentle; but after all does not his experience also show, what we have long believed, that honest, simple, faithful preaching is never exercised in vain? It may be also said that some of Mr. Grubb’s qualifications are hereditary. By birth he is an Irishman (he comes from Tipperary), and his mother was an eminent Quakeress, and extensively useful in her day. It was a sermon from her that was the instrument, humanly speaking, in the conversion of one of the most respected of our open-air preachers in London at the present day. We take much from those to whom we owe our being. Why should we not also inherit some of their excellences? The question may be asked though not answered here.
But to return to Mr. Grubb. The last time I heard him he had a truly magnificent congregation at the Agricultural Hall, Islington. Mr. Thain Davidson’s well meant effort to attract outsiders, and to keep up a large Sunday-afternoon service, now that the novelty of the thing has passed away, seems as successful as ever. He and his people havelately moved into the new hall, a most commodious building, and right well do they fill it. It will be much to be regretted if this scheme fall through for want of funds. It appears much good has resulted from it. Not a week passes but cases occur in which it has been shown how awakening have been the addresses delivered. A service that only lasts an hour is a desideratum. No one could have listened to Mr. Grubb without feeling how his kind of address is pre-eminently adapted to encourage and stimulate the religious life, to arrest the attention of the impenitent, and to touch especially the hearts of the young. Mr. Grubb takes no text, preaches no formal sermon, aims at no rhetorical flight, does not strike you as being very intellectual, or very original, or very learned. It may be that he is all three—it certainly is not for me to say that he is not—but whether he be so or not, it is clear that he judges and judges rightly that, at the Agricultural Hall on a Sunday afternoon what is wanted is not the glare of the rhetorician, not the learning of the divine, not the elaborate argument of the trained logician, not the fancy of the poet, not the dramatic action of the elocutionist, but the tender beseeching of one who, saved by Divine mercy himself,and assured of all its fulness and omnipotence, would force a similar boon on all around. It was thus he preached on Sunday afternoon. He seemed to speak out of the depth of a holy love, in language very simple, abounding with the commonest, and, as some might think, most worn of Scripture quotations, yet with a pathos that, as it came from the heart, at once reached the hearts of all his hearers. A more homely or plainer-looking man than Mr. Grubb you don’t often see. As he stood there, with his sunburnt, honest face, with his suit of sober black and grey, with his rustic air, you felt that his power (for there was not a single unattentive hearer) was such as a Whitefield or a Wesley wielded, and which has never been exerted in our world in vain. Man’s fallen state, his need of pardon, his need of pardon now, the danger of delay, the duty of all instantly to receive the proffered grace—such were his themes. He told them he had stood by the death-bed of a woman who had believed that there was no mercy for such a wicked old sinner as she was, and had heard her song of joy as she passed from the poverty and sorrow of earth to the wealth and joy of heaven. Yes, for all there was mercy, and that all there present might attain it was his prayer; and as thus hespoke, light came to his eye and animation to his voice, and, with uplifted arm and flowing utterance, he gave you his idea of the true evangelist—the man always needed in our land—and it is to be feared, in spite of all our boasted Christianity, never more than now. But it is not for me to say what are Mr. Grubb’s peculiar qualifications for his work. What they are may be best gathered from his abundant labours. In his own denomination it is well known how numerous are his efforts and how great his successes. He is a fitting representative of active and spiritual Quakerism. Men say that body is not what it was; that it is losing its power; that it has little hold upon the people; that it makes no converts. It may be so, but if it has many such ministers as Mr. Grubb in its midst, as much as any it is fitted with a living ministry which will go out into the highways and hedges and bring back to the fold those who have wandered far away. His appeal is not to the high and mighty, to the rich, the learned, or the great, but to the poorest of the poor. Mr. Grubb’s mission is evidently a special one. Amongst fallen women, in districts where ragged-schools and churches are required, in corners of our land where no regular means of grace exist, he findsspecial charm and need. It is pleasant to see him supported by the good men and true of his own denomination and others. It is evident that at the Agricultural Hall—perhaps all the better for its not being professedly such—we have the true idea of an Evangelical Alliance, an alliance for Christian work rather than of Christian creed, an alliance practical, not speculative, not in form and dogma, but in life and love.
What virtue there is in an if. Without going as far back as the Book of Genesis, and thinking what a different thing life would have been if the mother of us all had not plucked and eaten
“The fruitOf that forbidden tree whose mortal tasteBrought death into the world and all our woe,”
“The fruitOf that forbidden tree whose mortal tasteBrought death into the world and all our woe,”
it is very obvious much depends upon the ifs. If Sir Robert Peel had encouraged the advances of Disraeli, how different would have been the state of politics in this country. If Louis Philippe had shot Louis Napoleon when he had the power to do so, the Orleanists might have been the rulers of France. If old George III. had had brains as well as self-esteem and a stubborn will, what untold horrors might have been averted from England and Ireland. If Balthazar Gerard had not fired his pistol at Williamthe Silent, Belgium at this time would have been as intensely Protestant as it is now intensely Catholic. If John Wesley had perished in the fire at Epworth Parsonage, where would have been the Methodist Revival of the last century? And if Wesley himself had not broken from the little band who met in Fetter Lane, what sect in England would have equalled in numbers or usefulness that of the Moravians? Now, in this teeming London they have but one place of worship, and that but very indifferently filled. It does not even present the usual appearance of a place of worship, and thus attract notice; the stranger passes it by. Yet it is a place of surpassing interest, one of the hallowed spots of London, where sinners have wept, where souls have rejoiced, where the power and presence of God have been marvellously displayed. Let us go there; we pass along a passage till we come into a very old-fashioned meeting-house. There we shall find plenty of room. There are two hundred communicants, and at certain times they are all present, but they are scattered far and wide, and in general the place has a very deserted look. The benches—there are no pews—are most uncommonly hard to sit on. There are galleries, and in one of them there is anorgan. The place is neat and clean. The service itself calls for no especial notice. It is much like that of other denominations. The liturgy is exclusively that of the Moravians. The preaching is such as you may hear elsewhere. Attached to the place is a skeleton Sunday-school. There is light about the place, but it is not very powerful. It suggests more that of the setting than of the rising sun. I confess I see no reason why this should be the case, why the Moravianism, so powerful in many places, so blessed in missionary efforts, should be so powerless here. Moravianism is older than Lutheranism. It has an apostolical descent more genuine than that of the English or the Romish Church. Pre-eminently it may claim to have followed the leadings of Providence. Nowhere is there a trace of the gradual elaboration of any plan dictated by human wisdom. The leading men in the Ancient Unity, the emigrant founders of Herrnhut, Count Zinzendorf himself, and those of his fellow-labourers who were instrumental in introducing the Church into England, were all led gradually and by a way which they knew not to results they had not contemplated. As an anonymous writer, one of their body, remarks, “What a striking proof is here afforded of thewisdom and faithfulness of God! Surely it well becomes the members of a community which has been so undeservedly favoured to inquire whether they, as individuals and collectively, have faithfully improved the privileges bestowed upon them.”
But about the chapel. Turn to Baxter’s Diary, and we find the place mentioned there. He writes: “On January the 24th, 1672–3, I began a Tuesday Lecture at Mr. Turner’s church in New Street, near Fetter Lane, with great convenience and God’s encouraging blessing.” It is, writes Mr. Orme, that between Nevill’s Court and New Street, now occupied by the Moravians. It appears to have existed, though perhaps in a different form, before the Fire of London. Turner, who was the first minister, was a very active man during the Plague. He was ejected from Sunbury, in Middlesex, and continued to preach in Fetter Lane till towards the end of the reign of Charles II., when he removed to Leather Lane. Baxter carried on the morning week-day lecture till the 24th of August, 1682. The church which then met in it was under the care of Mr. Lobb, whose predecessors had been Dr. Thomas Goodwin and Thankful Owen. This church still exists, but on the opposite side of the way, under the care ofthe Rev. J. Spurgeon. The Moravians came into possession of the building in 1740. They had previously met in Fetter Lane, but in a smaller room. The present chapel was then known as the Great Meeting-house, or Bradbury’s Meeting-house. Tradition says that the place was once used as a saw-pit, and as a place of asylum when the State Church was busy at the work in which it has ever been untiring, no matter how remiss in other matters—that of enforcing its rights real or fancied, and disregarding those of other men. Tradition also says that the place was built, for the same reason, with two modes of egress, that the good men in the pulpit might have an additional chance of safety. It was in the meeting that Emmanuel Swedenborg was for a time accustomed to worship. It was in the old place that Whitefield and Wesley attended, and where, as Southey writes, “they encouraged each other in excesses of devotion which, if they found the mind sane, were not likely long to leave it so,” but of which Wesley writes in very different language. Let us hear what he says. “About three in the morning, as we were continuing instant in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to theground. As soon as we were recovered a little from that awe and amazement we broke out with one voice, ‘We praise Thee, O God! we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord.’” “It was a Pentecostal season indeed,” wrote Whitefield. Let me add that it was there, and not in the present meeting, that Wesley stood up and read from a written paper such of their doctrines as he contemned, especially that of there being no degrees of faith short of perfect assurance. He had learnt much from the Moravians. They had found him a mere Ritualist, they had left him a converted man, but he had outgrown his teachers, the mild and loving and placid Germans of Fetter Lane. “I have borne with you long,” said he at the end of his discourse, “hoping you would turn; but, as I find you more and more confirmed in the errors of your ways, nothing now remains but that I should give you up to God. You that are of the same judgment, follow me.” When he had thus spoken he withdrew. This breach was never healed, and from that day to this Moravianism has never in this country, and especially in London, recovered from the blow.
It may also be said that the impulse given to the religious life of England by the Moravians hastended naturally to their decrease. Their speciality was to preach the atonement made for sin by the blood of Jesus, and happiness in communion with Him. In the dark days, when they came over, this doctrine was far less commonly believed than now, and in proportion as it has been preached by Churchmen and Dissenters has there been a decline of Moravian influence. In reality, what they came here to do has been done by others who had learned how to do it from them. All Evangelical sects teach now what they teach, and even where they now break fresh ground it is found those whom they have influenced prefer to take part with churches of a more native origin or British character. As regards London the position of their chapel is very much against them. An out-of-the-way situation is as undesirable in a spiritual, as in a commercial point of view. In their church government they are Episcopalian, and meet at certain great occasions in synod. At one time they much favoured the lot, but now that is rarely used, and their marriages are not arranged by it as was formerly the case. A bishop is an elder appointed by the synod to ordain ministers of the church. The latter are sent to a congregation, but it exercises a veto. The congregationis ruled by a committee chosen by the communicants. They claim not to be Dissenters; it was the opinion of Archbishop Potter they were not. They trace their pedigree from Zinzendorf to Huss, from Huss to the Greek monks, Theodorus and Cyril, who in the ninth century introduced Christianity into Moravia and Bohemia. But after all they chiefly glory in the fact of preaching, to use one of their own hymns—
“That whoe’er believeth in Christ’s redemptionMay find free grace and a complete exemptionFrom serving sin.”
“That whoe’er believeth in Christ’s redemptionMay find free grace and a complete exemptionFrom serving sin.”
If the reader be told that there exists in this enlightened age a sect who believe that the day of judgment is passed, that it took place nearly a hundred years ago, that the Christian dispensation is at an end, that Emmanuel Swedenborg daily visited the spiritual world, and made acquaintance with its inhabitants, that he was directly appointed by God to describe to men the scenery of heaven and hell, and the world of spirits, and the lives of their inhabitants, and that through him the Lord Jesus Christ makes his second advent for the institution of a new Church described in the Apocalypse under the figure of the New Jerusalem, at once you exclaim, this is “one of the things no fellah can understand.” Nevertheless, such actually is the fact—nay more, it may be observed, that the number of Swedenborgians is on the increase; that they have a hundred chapels in England,and a larger number in America, and that this sect, while it has excited the rude laugh of ignorant folly, has attracted to itself some of the greatest intellects of the day. Emerson claims for Swedenborg that he was a “colossal soul;” and Mr. Kingsley speaks of him, though not very correctly, as a “sound and severe and scientific labourer, to whom our modern physical science is most deeply indebted.” The Swedenborgians, says Theodore Parker, have a calm and religious beauty in their lives, which is much to be admired. I should fancy the artist Blake was a Swedenborgian. Amongst the active Swedenborgians of the past I find such names as John Flaxman, sculptor; William Sharpe, engraver; the Rev. Joseph Gilpin, curate to Fletcher of Madely; and James Hindmarsh, one of Wesley’s preachers; Charles Augustus Tulk, a friend of Joseph Hume, and M.P. for Sudbury in 1821; Samuel Crompton, the inventor of the spinning-mule, of whom it was truly remarked by his biographer, “Few men, perhaps, have ever conferred so great a benefit on their country and reaped so little profit for themselves.” In our time Swedenborgianism was represented in Parliament by Mr. Richard Malins, now Sir Richard, and a Vice-Chancellor. Mr. Hiram Power, the American sculptor,is a zealous missionary of the Swedenborgian faith. The chief of the living Swedenborgian literati in this country are Dr. Garth Wilkinson, and the Rev. Augustus Clissold, formerly of Exeter College, Oxford. Other well-known names in connexion with the sect are Mr. Isaac Pitman and Mr. George Hartly Grindon.
The Society shows signs of life. In Islington there is a college for the education of young men for the ministry. Mr. W. White, no friendly witness,—he was driven from the community on the question of spiritualism,—writes on the testimony of Her Majesty’s inspectors:—“There are no better schools of their class in England than those maintained by the Swedenborgians of Manchester and Salford, in which about fourteen hundred children are educated.” The Swedenborgians have besides a national missionary institution, with a very limited income, and two societies for the production of tracts, one in London and the other in Manchester. The London Missionary and Tract Society of the New Church had in 1865 an income of 209l., and circulated 32,000 tracts. The Manchester New Jerusalem Tract Society had the same year an income of 154l., and circulated 100,000 tracts; their chief society is that for printingand publishing the writings of Emmanuel Swedenborg, established in London in the year 1810. “For half a century,” writes Mr. White, “this society was the happy meeting place of all who had any lively interest in Swedenborg, whether citizens of Hindmarsh’s New Jerusalem, or Churchmen like Clowes, or Quakers like Harrison, or unattached like Tulk.” In 1845 the Swedenborg Association was formed in London to promote the sale of Swedenborg’s writings, which were translated by Dr. Wilkinson, the Rev. Augustus Clissold, and Mr. Strull. In 1854 it was thought advisable that the Society should establish a book depôt of its own. Accordingly the Rev. Augustus Clissold subscribed 3000l.for the purchase of suitable premises. A house was taken in Bloomsbury Street. In 1865 there were 3016 volumes disposed of, valued at 217l., and the income of the Society from subscriptions and donations was in that year 205l.The operations of the Society are not, however, confined to its sales. Swedenborg’s works are kept in print, and often are given away to libraries and to persons of eminence at home and abroad. It does not appear that Swedenborg’s writings have ever been very popular. The first volume of the “Arcana Cœlestia” was published in 1749, and was completedin 1756, in eight quartos. The book fell stillborn from the press. In his “Spiritual Diary” Swedenborg describes the fact, and thus accounts for it:—“I have received letters informing me that not more than four copies have been sold in the space of two months. I communicated this to the angels. They were surprised, but they said it must be left to the Lord’s providence; that His providence is of such a nature that it compels no one; and that it is not fitting others should read the ‘Arcana Cœlestia’ before those who are in the faith.”
I hasten on to finish what I have to say as to the Swedenborg organization. There are many of his admirers who believe that the attempt to form a separate sect was not a wise one; certainly Swedenborg himself did nothing of the kind. Fletcher of Madely, who read “Heaven and Hell,” and used to declare that he regarded Swedenborg’s writings “as a magnificent feast set out with many dainties, but that he had not an appetite for every dish,” when asked why he did not preach the new doctrines, candidly confessed, “Because my congregation is not in a fit state to receive them;” and so, in the opinion of many, people might be Swedenborgians, as members of other churches, without setting up a new denomination.Such was the opinion of the chief apostle of Swedenborgianism in England, the Rev. John Clowes, for the extraordinary term of sixty-two years rector of St. John’s, Manchester. A complaint was laid before his Bishop, Dr. Porteus, charging him with the denial of the Trinity and the Atonement, and with holding heretical opinions. The Bishop summoned him to Chester, “read to him the several charges, heard patiently his reply to each, made his remarks (which discovered plainly that he was by no means dissatisfied or displeased with his opinions), and dismissed him with a friendly caution to be on his guard against his adversaries, who seemed disposed to do him mischief.” And no wonder. Swedenborg took almost as great liberties with the Pentateuch as Bishop Colenso himself.
Robert Hindmarsh, a printer, in Clerkenwell Close, the founder of the sect of “the New Church signified by New Jerusalem in the Revelation,” was not of the same way of thinking as Clowes or Fletcher. In 1783 he held meetings at his own house; he had an audience of two. In 1784 he was joined by others; chambers were rented in New Court, Middle Temple, under the title of “The Theosophical Society, institutedfor the purpose of promoting the heavenly doctrine of the New Jerusalem, by translating, printing, and publishing the Theological Writings of Emmanuel Swedenborg.” Meetings were held on Sundays and Thursdays, at which portions of Swedenborg’s writings were read and discussed. In 1787 a chapel was opened at Great Eastcheap. In 1797 Proud came to Cross Street, Hatton Garden, a place built expressly for him; and very large congregations for some years attended on his ministry. In time the chapel became deserted, the preacher ceased to draw. In 1812 it was sold to the managers of the Caledonian Asylum, and then for a time Irving blazed in it, the comet of a season; and then once more it came back to the Swedenborgians; and now, at any rate of a Sunday night, it is a sad, lonely spot. Proud was succeeded by Noble, an engraver, who commenced his ministry in 1819, and continued it till 1853, when he closed it by his death in his seventy-fifth year. One of the blessings promised in the Old Testament to those who keep the Commandments seems to be pre-eminently enjoyed by the Swedenborgians, and that is length of days. Swedenborg himself lived to be eighty-four.
From the Wesleyans the Swedenborgians got theidea of a conference which was to govern the new Church. As represented in conference, the Swedenborgians form a congregation of 3605 members, divided into fifty-five societies. In London there are four societies, containing, says Mr. White, 566 members. In 1807 one was held, at which they decreed no one should act as minister who had not received their ordination, and recommended all who would enter the New Jerusalem to receive baptism at their hands. Since 1815, conferences have been held regularly in various towns. Conference has for its organ theIntellectual Repository and New Jerusalem Magazine.
The faith of the new Church is briefly this:—
“That there is one eternal, self-existent God, who is Infinite Love and Wisdom, the Creator and Sustainer of all things.“In the fulness of time and for the redemption of man, He took upon Him human nature by birth of a virgin, and became God manifest in the flesh in the person of Jesus Christ, in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.“The Lord Jesus Christ is the one only true object of Christian faith and worship, and in Him is centred the Divine Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The divinity of the Father being the soul of the Son, and the humanity of the Son being the body of theFather, whence proceeds the Holy Spirit to regenerate and save mankind.“The Lord became our Redeemer by subduing the infernal hosts, and glorifying His humanity, without which no man could have been saved, and by which all men are capable of being saved by belief in Him; such belief implying a faithful obedience to the Divine laws, as the means of receiving the gifts of salvation.“The Sacred Scripture is the Word of God, and contains within its external or literal sense an internal or spiritual sense, being thus Divine.“On the death of the natural body, man rises again in a spiritual body, and according to the quality of his life here, lives in happiness or in misery hereafter.“Now is the time of the Lord’s second coming, not in person, but in the power and great glory of His Holy Word, to establish a new and permanent Church, testified in the Revelation by the holy city—New Jerusalem descending from God out of heaven.”
“That there is one eternal, self-existent God, who is Infinite Love and Wisdom, the Creator and Sustainer of all things.
“In the fulness of time and for the redemption of man, He took upon Him human nature by birth of a virgin, and became God manifest in the flesh in the person of Jesus Christ, in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.
“The Lord Jesus Christ is the one only true object of Christian faith and worship, and in Him is centred the Divine Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The divinity of the Father being the soul of the Son, and the humanity of the Son being the body of theFather, whence proceeds the Holy Spirit to regenerate and save mankind.
“The Lord became our Redeemer by subduing the infernal hosts, and glorifying His humanity, without which no man could have been saved, and by which all men are capable of being saved by belief in Him; such belief implying a faithful obedience to the Divine laws, as the means of receiving the gifts of salvation.
“The Sacred Scripture is the Word of God, and contains within its external or literal sense an internal or spiritual sense, being thus Divine.
“On the death of the natural body, man rises again in a spiritual body, and according to the quality of his life here, lives in happiness or in misery hereafter.
“Now is the time of the Lord’s second coming, not in person, but in the power and great glory of His Holy Word, to establish a new and permanent Church, testified in the Revelation by the holy city—New Jerusalem descending from God out of heaven.”
As a philosophy Swedenborgianism is the exact opposite of Materialism. Everything in nature, Swedenborg tells us, exists first in spirit. “We are created by the Lord, so that during our life in the body we may converse with spirits and angels, as indeed was the habit of the people of the most ancient times.” During his worldly life “he (man) is notseen in spirit, because he is immersed in nature.” God is in everything—is the life of everything. In heaven all is love—in hell all is selfishness. There is besides a spiritual world.
There are four Swedenborgian congregations in London. The principal one is that in Argyle Square, King’s Cross, at which preaches the Rev. Dr. Bayley—a tall, pleasant gentleman, in the prime of life. Outside, the place presents the appearance of a well-built, superior sort of chapel; inside, the massive pillars give it almost a cathedral appearance. It holds about 700 people; there are no galleries, and it is generally well filled. The people have a respectable appearance, and some of them have arrived at the dignity of “carriage folk.” The preacher is attentively listened to, and if passages of Scripture are referred to in the course of the sermon, there is at once an appeal to innumerable Bibles. There is service twice a day; and in the afternoon there is a conversation class, at which the Sunday-school teachers meet and take tea together. In the course of the week there is a theological class; and then, in connexion with the chapel, there are societies of a friendly and philanthropic character; there is also a lending library, and a day as well as a Sunday school.At either school the average attendance is the same—about three hundred.
At the far end, as you enter, there are two desks or pulpits, one for the minister and another for the assistant reader. The minister is in the one on the right-hand side. Between them is the communion-table. Both the minister and the assistant are dressed alike, in white robes—typical, we may suppose, of the doctrine and the life.
The service begins with a hymn, followed by certain passages from the Bible, in which all the congregation join, with the help of an efficient organ and choir. Then the minister reads, while the congregation kneel, a prayer of confession and supplication, ending with a prayer to “our Father who art in theheavens.” Then the congregation stand while the minister reads the Ten Commandments or the Beatitudes. Again passages from the Psalms are sung, and there is another prayer, varied according to its being the first, or second, or third, or fourth Sunday—a variation deserving to be imitated if ever we have a reformed Book of Common Prayer. In these prayers there is a scrupulous avoidance of evangelical formulas. Of course we hear nothing of the blood of Christ to wash away the stain of sin;and if terms are used common to other denominations, they are carefully toned down. Instead, praise and adoration are offered “for the establishment of a church upon earth as the means of raising us to heaven, and may it be increasingly receptive of those exalted principles which constitute Thy spiritual Zion; and may it speedily advance to that glorious state which is the subject of prophetic promise. Grant that the holy city, New Jerusalem, descending from Thee out of heaven, may be more and more extensively welcomed; and that all who are enabled to perceive its heavenly nature may show forth the knowledge of Thy truth by a life in agreement with its dictates.” Hymns, more philosophical than theological, are sung, and sacred anthems. No reference is made to other churches, or to other bodies of Christians. Amongst the special services we find Christ is thanked for His victory over thehells. God is, we are told, one in essence and in person; and in Him is the Divine Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The partaker of “the Holy Supper,” as it is called, is required “to acknowledge that the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ is the only God of heaven, and that His humanity is divine.” In the Marriage Service we are told, “Love truly conjugal is theunion of two minds, which is a spiritual union, and all spiritual union descends from heaven. Hence love truly conjugal comes from heaven, and its origin, from the marriage of goodness and truth there.” But while we have been looking through the liturgy, the preacher has read a short prayer, and has commenced his sermon, the text of which, you may be sure, is taken from the Old Testament. Let us listen. I have said it is sure to be taken from the Old Testament. The reason is, Swedenborg rejects the Acts of the Apostles, and the Epistles, or, rather, declares that they have no “internal sense.”