Earlier text: ADDRESS TO THE YOUNGINJUSTICE, established by law, and decreed by judges, is more malignant than any other. While we behold the effects of natural depravity in the atrocious crimes of others; we should be humbled by recollecting, that the principles of them all are in our hearts also, and liable every moment to abuse. We ought, therefore, to be thankful to the Lord for merciful restraints; earnest in seeking renewing grace; watchful over ourselves; and patient under the effects of our fallen nature in others. We may see, in our children, the wickedness of the world in embryo: their dislike to religion, their ingenuity at inventing lies, their pride, obstinacy, vanity, envy, and anger, are rank weeds, which, if neglected, will overspread their minds, and prevent the growth of every good thing. It is our duty, therefore, to bestow much pains on their education; and, above all, to pray for converting grace to make them new creatures.—But, though the poison of a serpent is within us, we may prevent, in great measure, its breaking forth to the injury of others. When the Saviour's instructions, reasonings, and persuasions, are duly regarded, the very serpent becomes harmless and gentle like the dove. But those who refuse to hear Him that speaks to them in strains of heavenly wisdom, must perish miserably and eternally; nor can all nature furnish images adequately to represent their dreadful doom. Though the righteous are not “glad at calamities,” yet they must rejoice to see the cause of God triumphant, and men on every side convinced that there is a reward for the righteous, and “a God that judgeth in the earth.”—Scott. Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. The great inquiry which Solomon prosecutes in this book, is, What is that good which the sons of men should do? Chap. ii, 3. What is the true way to true happiness, the certain means to attain our great end? He had in vain sought it among those things which most men are eager in pursuit of, but here, at length, he has found it, by the help of that discovery which God anciently made to man (Job xxviii. 28). That serious godliness is the only way to true happiness; Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter, the return entered upon the writ of inquiry, the result of this diligent search; you shall have all I have been driving at in two words. He does not say, Do you hear it, but Let us hear it; for preachers must themselves be hearers of that word which they preach to others; must hear it as from God; those are teachers by the halves, who teach others, and not themselves; Rom. ii, 21. Every word of God is pure and precious, but some words are worthy of more special remark, as this here; the Masorites begin it with a capital letter, as that Deut. vi, 4. Solomon himself puts a nota bene before it, demanding attention in these words, Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. Observe here, 1. The summary of religion. Setting aside all matters of doubtful disputation, to be religious, is, to fear God and keep his commandments. (1.) The root of religion is the fear of God reigning in the heart; a reverence of his majesty, a deference to his authority, and a dread of his wrath. Fear God, worship God, give him the honor due to his name, in all the instances of true devotion, inward and outward. See Rev. xiv, 7. (2.) The rule of religion is the law of God revealed in the Scriptures. Our fear toward God must be taught by his commandments (Isa. xxix, 13), and those we must keep, and carefully observe. Wherever the fear of God is uppermost in the heart, there will be a respect to all his commandments, and care to keep them. In vain do we pretend to fear God, if we do not make conscience of our duty to him. 2. The vast importance of it: This is the whole duty of man; it is all his business, and all his blessedness; our whole duty is summed up in this, and our whole comfort is bound up in this. It is the concern of every man, and ought to be his chief and continual care; it is the common concern of all men, of their whole time. It is nothing to a man whether he be rich or poor, high or low, but it is the main matter, it is all to a man, to fear God, and do as he bids him. 3. A powerful inducement to this, v. 14. We shall see of what vast consequence it is to us, that we be religious, if we consider the account we must every one of us shortly give of ourselves to God; thence he argued against a voluptuous and vicious life (chap. xi, 9), and here for a religious life. God shall bring every work into judgment. Note, (1.) There is a judgment to come, in which every man's eternal state will be finally determined. (2.) God himself will be the Judge, not only because he has a right to judge, but because he is perfectly fit for it; infinitely wise and just. (3.) Every work will then be brought into judgment, will be inquired into, and called over again. It will be a day21 to bring to remembrance every thing done in the body. (4.) The great thing to be then judged of concerning every work, is, whether it be good or evil, conformable to the will of God, or a violation of it. (5.) Even secret things, both good and evil, will be brought to light, and brought to account, in the judgment of the great day (Rom. ii, 16); there is no good work, no bad work, hid, but shall then be made manifest. (6.) In consideration of the judgment to come, and the strictness of that judgment, it highly concerns us now to be very strict in our walkings with God, that we may give up our account with joy,—Henry. Metrical Version of Psalm XXII.
By Editor
1 Why, O my God, hast thou forsaken me?
Why, why so far the help thou mightest send?
Why, as I raise my agonizing plea,
Does not, O Lord, thy listening ear attend? 2 Through all the day, to Heaven I raise my cry,
But my petition finds no answer there;
No night in gloom and silence passes by,
That is not burdened with my weary prayer. 3 But thou art holy, all thy works are just,
Thou who inhabitest thy people's praise; 4 In thee our fathers put their constant trust,
And thou didst save them in their evil days. 5 They cried to thee, and sure deliverance came,
They trusted and were never left to fall. 6 But I'm a worm, denied the human name,
Cast out of men, reproached, despised, by all. 7 They laugh to scorn whene'er they see me nigh,
They curl the lip and shake the head in taunt, 8 He trusted in the Lord, they mocking cry,
Now let him save him in his hour of want. 9 But thou art he who from my earliest day,
Didst to my frame thy quickening power accord,
As helpless on my mother's breasts I lay,
Thou mad'st me hope in thy sure mercy, Lord. 10 Yea, from my birth have I been wholly thine,
Thou art my God from life's most secret spring; 11 Be not far off; for troubles round me twine,
And none are near the needed help to bring. 12 Wild bulls unnumbered have compassed me round,
Dread bulls of Bashan, fierce, and bold and strong, 13 They gaped upon me, bowing to the ground,
Like ravening lions, roaring loud and long. 14 I am like water poured upon the earth;
My aching bones are from their sockets pressed;
My heart, like wax upon the glowing hearth,
Melts down within my fearful, fainting breast. 15 Like withering potsherds is my strength decayed,
Fast to my jaws my tongue in sorrow cleaves,
Heavy thy hand is on my spirit laid,
The dust of death at last my soul receives. 16 Vile crowds of evil men inclosed me fast;
My hands and feet they pierced with cruel smart; 17 On my gaunt form their haughty looks they cast, 18 And 'mong themselves, by lot, my garments part. 19 But, O my Lord, be not thou far away;
Make haste to help me, O my horn of power! 20 Give not my soul unto the sword a prey,
Let not the dog my darling one devour. 21 Save, for thou canst, e'en from the lion's jaws;
For when the unicorns hard at me thrust,
Thou then did'st hear me and maintain my cause,
And bid me never thy strong arm distrust. 22 Unto my brethren, I'll declare thy name,
The people all shall hear the praise I bring. 23 O ye that fear the Lord, his praise proclaim,
Ye seed of Jacob of his goodness sing.
Ye hosts of Israel, fear before the Lord, 24 For he his mercy hath not turned aside,
Nor the affliction of the poor abhorred,
Nor hid his face, but heard him when he cried. 25 Among thy saints I will thy name adore,
With them that fear thee, I my vows will pay, 26 The meek shall eat and never hunger more,
Who seek, shall praise thee through eternal day. 27 The willing world shall at thy feet attend,
Nations and kindreds bow before thy throne, 28 The kingdom is the Lord's and ne'er shall end,
And o'er the nations he is king alone. 29 The rich and great shall on thy bounty thrive,
The poor and needy bless thee for thine aid,
For none has power to keep his soul alive;
They trust in the provision thou hast made. 30 A seed shall serve him, whom the Lord shall own,
A generation by his goodness won. 31 They shall thy righteousness to all make known,
And tell their children what the Lord hath done.
—Ed. WALKING WITH GOD.
By L. E. Miller
How inspiring, how heavenly is the thought that we poor, weak, and unworthy mortals may walk with God. In our daily life and conversation, amid its toils and temptations, we may have the testimony of the Spirit that our ways please the Lord. Then we are walking with God. We are walking with God when we keep his commandments, and have the faith of Jesus. Enoch walked with God, though he lived in the midst of a wicked people, and was translated to those beautiful mansions above. So we, in these last days, amid a crooked and perverse generation, may shine as lights in the world, and walk with God. When our lives are hid with Christ, then, indeed, are we walking with God, and have a clear title to those glorious mansions which Jesus has gone to prepare for those who love his appearing. We have the tried gold, the eyesalve, and the white raiment. Language, at the best, can give but a faint idea of the union with Christ our beloved, which the child of God enjoys from day to day, while he is walking with God. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God, adopted into his family, and thereby know that they are of the household of faith. Ah, how this poor world recedes from our sight, and Heaven, sweet Heaven, grows more bright and attractive. Oh! that beautiful land of rest! That blessed abode of peace, and love! Weary pilgrims, lift up your heads and rejoice, for your redemption draweth nigh. There, in that blessed land, they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat, for the Lamb that is in the midst of them shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. “Oh! ’twere sweet to toil in sadness,
Oh! ’twere well the cross to bear,
If at last in joy and gladness,
We may rest forever there.”
GO TO GOD.
By Geo. W. Parker
LET this be our way. Seek not to find ease among men, but peace with God. He knows the language of his children, and will not mistake it. Yea, though there be weakness, he has promised strength; he will bear with infirmities, for he is all-powerful, and will give the most strength when we feel the greatest weakness. Are we passing through afflictions? let it prove a refiner’s fire to purify us for a heavenly home. In the refining of choice metals the object of the refiner is to bring them up to a higher standard of purity and worth, and they are heated until they receive the likeness, and reflect the image of the refiner. Therefore let us reflect the image of the heavenly, for we must be purified to walk the streets of transparent gold in the city of God. The Jerusalem above is free, the mother of us all, out of which will come the children of God, the redeemed of the earth out of every nation, kindred, tongue, and people, to take possession of their inheritance, the earth made new. And to fit us for this, “afflictions are as needful as consolations.” For without the one we could not estimate the value of the other. The word of God gives proof of the assertion; for Jonah’s whale teaches a good lesson as well as Pisgah’s top. And a man may sometimes learn as much from being a night or a day in the deep as from being forty days in the mount. Thus we see Jonah come out of the whale cured of rebellion. And we see Moses go up into the mount with “meekness,” and “come down” and break the tables with “indignation.” We also see three chosen disciples attending their Master in the mount and “falling asleep there.” And what a lesson does this convey to our minds? If you meet with no opposition, no troubles, no scorn, no afflictions, and are not coming up “through much tribulation,” then you are indeed asleep. And as Christ called his sleeping disciples in the mount the “third time,” so now in these last days he would arouse your sleeping energies by the third-call of his angel. And let us use the means and privileges God has given us; and to ourselves apply this language used by the Saviour to his sleeping disciples, Mark xiv, 42, “Rise up, let us go; lo, he that betrayeth me is at hand.” In all your distresses, in all your moanings, go to him; pour out your tears to him. Not only fire, but even water, where it wants a vent, will break upward. These drop not only into our own lap, but they will fall on his, and he hath a bottle to put them in, if ye empty them there; they shall return in wine of strong consolation. It is well for you to be clothed in sackcloth while you tarry in the wilderness. Prosperity might forever cast down your soul. I WAS ASTONISHED.
By Dolphius Smith
FIRST, When a few years ago I was traveling as a Sunday School Missionary, at one time in company with a D. D., Superintendent of S. S. Missions for the State of ———, well known to many readers of the REVIEW, I unburdened to him my mind, being under conviction of present truth, saying, I feel convicted that according to the Scriptures the seventh day is the true Sabbath, he made the following reply: “Bro. Smith, other men have, like you, been troubled about this matter, but by letting their convictions rest, and not acting upon them, they have in time worn off.” (1) How would it sound to give such advice to the sinner, trembling under the wrath of God, and driven almost to despair? Will not such shepherds be found in the great day, with the blood of souls upon their garments? SECOND, Recently when in the company of a number of Methodist divines, well known in this State, the conversation turned upon the Sabbath. Every argument was used on their part to destroy the sanctity of the seventh day. I turned the tide of evidence they had accumulated, against the first day, claiming that it would apply as well to the first, as to the seventh day. This they admitted, and replied as follows: “We do not believe that the first day of the week is holy time, but simply a convenient day set apart by Christian nations, in which to worship God.” In astonishment I remarked, I was not so taught in my youth, when a member of the M. E. church, but I was instructed to regard it as most sacred time, the holy Sabbath. “We know,” said they, “that in former years it was so taught, but it was an error.” Truly, thought I, in the days of its ignorance the church enjoyed more spirituality than since it has rejected the light of the true Sabbath. Verily, “Babylon is fallen, is fallen,” and the time is come “when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers having itching ears. And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.” 2 Tim. iv, 3, 4. Being forewarned of God by the Testimonies, the time will come when I shall not be astonished to see these same divines (unless they turn to the truth), join hand in hand with the “beast” and the “false prophet,” in persecuting “the remnant of her [the church’s] seed, which keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ.” GOD'S ANVIL.
By Julius Sturm
PAIN's furnace-heat within me quivers,
God's breath upon the flames doth blow,
And all my heart in anguish shivers,
And trembles at the fiery glow:
And yet I whisper—As God will,
And, in his hottest fire, hold still. He comes and lays my heart, all heated,
On his hard anvil, minded so
Into his own fair shape to beat it
With his great hammer, blow on blow.
And yet I whisper—As God will,
And at his heaviest blows, hold still. He takes my softened heart and beats it,
And sparks fly off at every blow;
He turns it o'er and o'er, and heats it,
And lets it cool, and makes it glow;
And yet I whisper—As God will,
And, in his mighty hand, hold still. Why should I murmur? for the sorrow
Thus only longer lived will be;
Its end may come and will to-morrow,
When God has done his work in me;
So I say, trusting—As God will,
And trusting to the end, hold still. He kindles for my profit, purely,
Affliction's glowing, fiery brand,
For all his heaviest blows are surely
Inflicted by a master hand:
So I say, praying—As God will,
And hope in him, and suffer still. “FOR JESUS’ SAKE.”
By S. H. Marshall
This is my birthday. I am just seventy two years old on this the holy Sabbath, June 6. Some serious reflections arise. Why God should suffer me to live, even so many years, and an unprofitable servant. I thank God, and call upon him to help me, that through his grace, I may live better the few days I have to stay, and be able to say, “For Jesus’ sake.” The thought strikes my mind, Why for Jesus’ sake? Because he is worthy; he is able to save all that come unto him; he has paid the debt—has shed his blood, to make an atonement for our sins: and we, through him, can come to the Father. Then we should do all for his sake. He is in the heavenly sanctuary, pleading for us, unworthy creatures as we are. May we love him for what he has done for us poor sinners. May I overcome all my evil besetments, and finally live with him, and all the saints in the kingdom. Whiteside Co., Ill., June 6, 1868. A LONG JOURNEY FOR A BIBLE.
Two men came one night to Mr. Ellis, the missionary of Madagascar. They had walked a hundred miles out of their way to visit him. “Have you the Bible?” asked Mr. Ellis. “We have seen it, and heard it read,” one man said: “but we have only some of the words of David, and they do not belong to us—they belong to the whole family.” “Have you the words of David with you now?” asked Mr. Ellis. They looked at each other, and would not give answer. Perhaps, they were afraid; but Mr. Ellis spoke kindly to them. Then one of the men put his hand into his bosom and took out what seemed to be a roll of cloth. He unrolled it, and after taking off some wrappers, behold, there were a few old, torn, dingy leaves of the Psalms, which had been read, passed around, lent, and re-read, until they were almost worn out. Tears came to Mr. Ellis’s eyes when he saw them. “Have you ever seen the words of Jesus, or John, or Paul, or Peter?” asked the missionary. “Yes,” they said, “we have seen and heard them; but we never owned them.” Mr. Ellis then went and brought out a Testament with the book of Psalms bound up with it, and showed it to them. “Now,” said he, “if you will give me your few words of David, I will give you all his words, all the words of Jesus, and John, and Paul, and Peter besides.” The men were amazed and delighted; but they wanted to see if the words of David were the same in Mr. Ellis’s book; and when they found they were, and thousands more of the same sort, their joy knew no bounds. They willingly gave up their poor, tattered leaves, seized the volume, bade the missionary good-by, and started off upon their long journey home, rejoicing like one who has found a great spoil. Did not these poor men prize the Bible? And had not they found a treasure? THE WARFARE AND THE VICTORY.
By John Q. Foy
“Wherefore the rather, brethren, give diligence to make your calling and election sure.” 2 Pet. i, 10. While contemplating the heavenly inheritance and feasting our minds upon the rich glories of the kingdom of God, we become enraptured with the thought, and are forced to make the inquiry: Shall all this be mine to enjoy? Shall I be among that unspeakably happy company that will be saved in the kingdom of immortal glory? And although the thought of coming short seems unendurable, yet we can hardly bring ourselves to really expect that blessings of such magnitude and infinite worth should ever be bestowed upon us; but upon further consideration of the foundation upon which our hopes are based, we conclude that not only is there a bare possibility of a full realization of all these blessings, but that we may, with confidence and certainty, answer these questions in the affirmative. True, there is something to be done on our part; there is a battle to be fought, a victory to be achieved, an enemy to be conquered; but, unlike those who engage in the battles of this world, or those warfares by which nations conquer or are conquered, where the issue is uncertain, and which are even lost to those who engage in them most zealously; those who enlist all their energies in the warfare for eternal life, no matter how weak, or how fearful the odds against which they may have to contend, may be sure of success. This idea, at first thought, may seem like presumption, but is tenable from the ample provision made in the glorious plan of salvation, as revealed in the word of God, and evident to every one who is fully established in the truth that God is such a being as his word declares him to be. Of the almost numberless promises which we find in the Bible, there are many that bear directly upon, and clearly sustain this position; nor do the conditions upon which these promises are based in any way militate against it. Indeed, the complying with these conditions, constitutes the very warfare above mentioned. It is true that in this warfare we are not only opposed by the great enemy of man, with whom we cannot, in our own strength, cope successfully, but our own natural desires and propensities are directly at variance with our efforts in this direction. Sinful in our very natures, we have so long followed the bent of our own depraved minds as to render it utterly impossible for us, independent of any other aid, to do that which is right. “Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then may ye also do good, that are accustomed to do evil.” Jer. xiii, 23. Unless aided by the Spirit of God all our efforts would be vain; and, indeed, without its influence upon our hearts, we should have no inclination to engage in this work. Realizing this to be true, we are prepared to appreciate the infinite compassion and condescension of God in permitting his spirit to strive with us; and, oh! the dangers of grieving it from our hearts by neglecting to heed its gentle monitions; for should it take its everlasting flight, hopeless, and terrible beyond description, would be our case. The Lord is “long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish,” and while in our blindness and ignorance, we sin, he graciously condescends to bear with us, and, in tones of love and pity, says, “Return unto me, and I will return unto you;” but to presume upon his mercy, and reject, or neglect to walk in the light that shines upon our pathway, is dangerous indeed. By the grace of God alone we are what we are. Have we made any attainments toward perfection—any progress in the heavenly journey? Are we any better than the vilest hypocrite, or the most hardened criminal? We owe all to the grace of God. Even the worldling who may, in point of external morality, be better than his fellows, is indebted to the grace of God being brought to bear, either directly or indirectly, upon his nature. By this grace, through the influence of the Holy Spirit, there are begotten within us good desires; and by carefully and cheerfully yielding to this faithful monitor, these desires will increase and strengthen, until we are thoroughly transformed by the renewing of our minds, and are prepared to prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God, and for the society of saints and angels in his glorious kingdom. God has not undertaken a work and left it incomplete. The plan of salvation is a perfect success. The efforts of Satan to thwart this plan were futile, and if in the end there is a failure in our case, we alone shall be to blame. We have a whole Saviour, and ours may be a full salvation. To bring our wills in subjection to the will of God; to bear the cross after Christ; to endure the trials which may be necessary to fit us for the kingdom, with patience and resignation, may, and will, require an effort on our part, but there is no need of a failure. Jesus trod the rugged way before us, and was tempted in all points like as we are. He overcame; why may not we? To say that we cannot, to say even that there is a possibility of a failure, after that we have done all we can do, is to limit the power of the Holy One of Israel, and to charge the Son of God with practicing deception upon the human family. Judging from our apparent indifference in these things, one would naturally conclude either that we had but little regard for our best, our eternal interest, or that we were rather incredulous with regard to God’s promises. That the former is not the case is shown by the zeal we manifest in securing to ourselves the ordinary blessings of this life; and while the latter, in some cases, is doubtless true, it seems utterly inexcusable, not to say criminal, in those who have once tasted the good word of God and the powers of the world to come. That many of us who profess to believe present truth are not as zealously engaged as we ought to be; that we have but little sense of the value of eternal things, is too true, and furnishes evidence of the blindness and depravity of the human heart. At times we may be aroused by the Spirit of God, to a sense of our danger, and make some efforts, and perhaps gain a victory; but the great enemy, taking advantage of our lack of confidence in the promises of God, or of our want of zeal in the matter, soon gets the ascendancy, and we are again brought into bondage by his cruel power; and thus we continue rising and falling. And what is the effect? Are we gaining ground? are we growing stronger? or are we, as the almost certain result of being so often wounded, becoming weaker and weaker, and less prepared to resist his attacks? It is our privilege to maintain a victory, and to go on from strength to strength. It is also to be feared that some who have enlisted in this war, have not fully made up their minds to go through, cost what it may; have not taken into account the trials and hardships they will have to undergo; the foes to be conquered, the crosses to be borne. Such are not really expecting to overcome, but are hoping that the way will be made easy, and that they, after all, may gain Heaven without making any sacrifice. But they deceive themselves, and will be disappointed. Only those who count the cost, and consecrate themselves unreservedly to God, can be sure of Heaven. What though our way lie through fiery trials? What though friends forsake us, and the storm-clouds of adversity may lower above, and the deep waters almost overwhelm us? Shall we faint beneath these light afflictions which are but for a moment, and which will, if patiently borne, work out for us, “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory?” The dross must be consumed, the gold refined; and who shall say that these things are not the greatest blessings that our Heavenly Father can confer upon us? In this, as in almost every other enterprise, determination is the synonym for success; while to be faint-hearted, to be wavering and undecided, is to be defeated. “Behold the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy that it cannot hear.” Isa. lix, 1. It is yet our privilege to confess our sins, and to draw near to God, and the promise is, that he will draw near to us. We may draw fresh supplies of grace from the sanctuary daily. We may have his Spirit to witness with our spirit that we are the children of God; “And” says Paul, “if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.” Rom. viii, 17. God has taken great pains to save us; a great price has been paid for our redemption; but we, as rational, intelligent beings, are to decide our own destiny. Life and death are placed before us. We may choose which we will. Choosing the former, we gain everything; while if the latter be our choice, our loss is equally great. However successful the great enemy may be in closing our eyes to this fact, or in blunting our sensibilities so that we shall fail to appreciate it, however much we may underrate the plan of salvation, and the inestimable blessings in reserve for the overcomer, it is a solemn truth that the fate of those who finally find themselves shut out of the kingdom of God—lost, irrecoverably lost—will be awful and agonizing beyond description. On the other hand the reward of those who shall overcome, who have willingly, cheerfully borne the cross after Christ, who “have not counted their lives dear unto themselves,” to whom it may be said, They have done what they could, will be equally joyous and glorious. “Fear not little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Luke xii, 32. JOHN Q. FOY.
Madison Co., N. Y. THE MORALITY AND RELIGION OF NEW YORK.
The following is an extract from a letter to a Chicago paper, giving a description of N. Y. City. Most of the preachers of the day tell us we are near the millennium. The United States is probably the most Christian of all the so-called Christian countries. Look at this description of the religious means in New York, and tell us what hope there is of the conversion of that city! If the whole world should become as much Christianized as the metropolis of our Christian land, what a millennium there would be! Truly, iniquity abounds in the churches, as well as out of them. Lord, “spare thy people!” The wickedness of New York no one pretends to deny. It is a city of moral filth and spiritual decay. You learn that a fine house in a good location is to let at a very low rent, for the simple reason that next door is a brothel. New York is horrible in the indulgence of the basest of appetites. Tens of thousands of men who go that road alone into the company of women, and as many women to whom dress and pleasure mean corruption. The aristocracy of New York is not an aristocracy of wealth, but of self-indulgence. The ambition of the young bloods is not to have plenty of money, but23 to riot, with money or without, in gilded sinks of iniquity. And these gentlemen of the metropolis, whose blood grows fouler every day, are as well pleased with themselves as the proudest lords of the proudest aristocracy in the world. Nowhere can you see faces baser and more insolent than you may see in Fifth avenue. The unceasing scramble for gain, and horrid squabble of half-mad scramblers, fill the whole stage of life in New York. Selfishness is the law, and success the gospel, of the millions whose noise fills the day here, as it were, with the groan of an earth-demon. Nobody cares, nobody hears, if any voice is raised but the voice of the market, and the song of pleasure. I speak, of course, with a reservation as regards the voice which may come direct from kind Heaven, through some inspired man or some signal event. Such a voice these hucksters and harlots would undoubtedly hear; but, alas! who is inspired of all the talkers, pious and profane, in the Babylon of our land? New York has no great preacher. Beecher, on the Brooklyn side, draws crowded houses year in and year out; but he is not a great moral power. His decided inclination to comedy has no redeeming background of tragic earnestness: hence the hearers of Mr. Beecher are entertained, but are not convinced. The fullness and charm of Mr. Beecher’s sensibilities undoubtedly edify his disciples, and please the crowd, as fine sentiments on the stage please the crowd. But they do not convict and convert. Mr. Beecher is essentially a weak man, because he plays with the truths of religion. People go to be entertained. And they go away merely entertained, because the great pulpit performer does not deal in downright, consistent, and powerful intellectual convictions, but in changing, inconsistent, and practically feeble imaginations. The dreams of Mr. Beecher’s soul are profoundly radical and heretical. The theology which he professes to teach, is strictly orthodox. To avoid getting into trouble, Mr. Beecher attempts to discard logic and theology in favor of piety and religion. The result is that Mr. Beecher builds on shifting sands. He involves himself in a kind of intellectual dishonesty, which is fatal to his power. He plays fast and loose with truths of absolute importance, until he becomes a player merely. If he could pass his nights for a while, watching through the streets, with the leprous victims of sin, until a grand, grim earnestness became the supreme impulse of his soul, and then could sift, and weigh, and utter, the soundest truths in a terrible honesty of clear conviction, his weakness would become strength. Instead of this, he puts his soul into a novel, and sells the novel for thirty thousand dollars to the Ledger. Theodore Tilton, the much-praised and much-abused editor of the Independent, is throwing away his chance precisely as Mr. Beecher does. He is playing at piety and religion—and very finely and nobly too—when the time demands a thing much finer and nobler than any play, the most earnest work with the most honest ideas. “No Theology in the Independent,” says Mr. Tilton. This simply means, no definiteness in the religious ideas of the Independent. The rule is broken constantly and deliberately by the more orthodox contributors. Thus an article on the personality and power of the Devil, in a recent issue, was as definite and as orthodox as anything ever said on the subject. But Mr. Tilton takes no such ground. He could not take it. He is heart and soul a free and rationalistic believer. He avoids the logical conclusions of his own principles, the logical development of his own ideas, by turning his back on theology. But his “no theology” practically means, in presence of the current insensibility to spiritual sentiments, “no God.” The atheism of the market and of society is too much for this emasculated religion. Nothing less than clear, intense, strong, and well-reasoned convictions can touch the masses, high or low. Mr. Tilton, instead of making the Independent a religious power, confronting the irreligion and atheism of the time, makes it simply a pleasant religious newspaper. Instead of dealing great blows at the falseness and vice of the age, through the clear utterance of honest religious convictions, Mr. Tilton fills his stage with sham orthodoxies in the rear, and in front represents good sentiments and politics. Dr. Chapin has never broken out of the limits of well-paid duty. He has sold sermons and lectures, as Beecher and all the rest do; never has he preached the gospel to the poor. His trick of rhetoric is a fine one; his spirit is always elevated; he drives a fair bargain with hearers; but he never attempts to go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in. If you turn to Dr. Spring, in Fifth Avenue, behold a magnificent brick church, that and nothing more, as far as the New York masses are concerned. Turn to Dr. Adams, in Madison avenue, and you have a conventicle of aristocratic Presbyterianism, as elegant and happy a conventicle as you can wish to see, and a pulpit in which the suaviter in modo gives the Holy Ghost the most inoffensive and delightful manner. Under the richly-decorated ceiling of the Madison avenue conventicle, you may even see lust in clean raiment smiling generously upon the smiling parson. We improve upon the method of Paul, who made men tremble; we charm them with the agreeable manners, and fine eloquence, fine though cheap, of our scented and gloved apostles. What the Episcopal churches are, as a rule, in respect of speaking directly and with force to the people, need not be told. In New York, they are little better than religious theatres. It is the thing with all fashionable people to attend an Episcopal church. And the wide spread of unreality and formalism in religion builds up these churches amazingly. They are thronged by young men whose god is enthroned in the organ loft, if, in fact, they look for a divinity any further than to the gay girl in the next pew. At present, universal demoralization goes unchecked; corruption hangs out her signal on every hand; every species of infidelity runs riot. Make use of me, my God!
Let me not be forgot;
A broken vessel cast aside—
One whom thou needest not. I am thy creature, Lord,
And made by hands divine;
And I am part, however mean,
Of this great world of thine. Thou usest all thy works—
The weakest things that be;
Each has a service of his own,
For all things wait on thee. Thou usest the high stars,
The tiny drops of dew,
The giant peak, and little hill;
My God, oh, use me too! Thou usest tree and flower,
The rivers vast and small;
The eagles great, the little bird
That sings upon the wall. Thou usest the wide sea,
The little hidden lake,
The pine upon the Alpine cliff,
The lily in the brake, The huge rock in the vale,
The sand grain by the sea,
The thunder of the rolling cloud,
The murmur of the lea. All things do serve thee here—
All creatures, great and small;
And oh! my God, make use of me,
The weakest of them all.