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A SECOND TENDENCY. PRACTICAL PREACHING.

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I had a second powerful tendency which helped to get me into trouble, and so became an occasion of unhappy feeling, namely, a practical tendency. This was bred in me. It was a family peculiarity; it ran in the blood. My father had it. Religion with him was goodness of heart and goodness of life; fearing God and working righteousness; loving God and keeping His commandments. And his belief and life were one. I never knew a more conscientious or godly man. And I never knew a man who could more truly have uttered the words of the Psalmist: "Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty; neither do I exercise myself in great matters, or in things too high for me. Surely I have behaved and quieted myself as a child that is weaned of its mother; my soul is even as a weaned child." What God had left mysterious, he was willing should remain so; he found sufficient to meet his wants and to occupy his thoughts in what He had clearly revealed. He never troubled either himself or his children with those incomprehensible subjects on which many people are so prone to speculate and dogmatize. He read but few books, and those which he read he carefully compared with the sacred Scriptures. The Bible was his only authority, and by it he tested both books and preachers, receiving nothing but what he saw and felt to be in harmony with its spirit and teachings. He liked Bunyan, especially his Pilgrim's Progress; and he liked Wesley; but he liked the Bible best. There were no bounds to his love and reverence for the Scriptures. He regarded them as the perfection of all wisdom, the true and perfect unfolding of the mind and will of God. He read them every morning on his knees, before the rest of the family were up. Whatever might be the calls of business, he spent a full hour in this exercise. He read them every noon to his family. He read them at night before retiring to rest. He read them with a sincere desire to learn God's will, and with earnest prayer for Divine help to enable him to do it. He read them till all the plainer and more practical portions were safely lodged in his memory, and deeply engraven on his heart. He read them till their teachings became a part of his very nature, and shone forth in his character in all the beauty of holiness. He was a thorough Christian. The oracles of God were the rule both of his faith and conduct. They leavened his whole soul. They mingled with all his conversation. They were his only counsellors and his chief comforters. They were his law, his politics, his philosophy, his morals. They were his treasure and his song. And he received their teachings in their simple, obvious, common-sense meaning. He had quite a distaste for commentaries, because they would not allow the Scriptures to speak forth their own solemn meaning in their own plain, artless way. He hated the notes to Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress for the same reason. He could understand the Bible, but he could not understand the explanations of it given by theologians. He would not study theology. He would study the Bible and Christ; he would study precepts and promises, exhortations and warnings, examples and historics; but not theology. And he never bothered us with theology. There was no theology in his conversation. There was none in his prayers. He never used theological terms. In all he said on religious matters, whether to God or man, he used the simplest Bible terms. He seldom talked much to his children about religion; he taught us more by his deeds and spirit than by words; but when he did say anything to us on the subject, it was the pure, unadulterated Word of God. The idea of making us theologians, in the ordinary sense of the word, never entered into his head. He wished us to think and feel and act like Christians, and that was all; and the end of all his counsels and labors was to furnish us unto every good word and work. If he had written a system of divinity, he would have left out most of the things which many put into such books, and put in many which most leave out. It would have been a book to help people to live right and feel right, and not to dream, or speculate, or wrangle. If he had been a preacher, he would have filled his sermons with the living words of Moses and the Prophets, of Christ and His Apostles, and pressed them on the consciences of his hearers with all his might. He would often have "reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come," but never troubled his hearers with human theories of Christian doctrines. The drift and scope of his sermons to the ungodly would have been, "Cease to do evil; learn to do well." "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon." "Repeat and be converted, every one of you, that your sins may he blotted out." The substance of his sermons to believers would have been, "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." "Ye are not your own; ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God with your bodies and your spirits, which are His." "For ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, such as silver and gold, from your evil way of life received by tradition from your fathers; but with the precious blood of Christ; who gave Himself for you, that He might redeem you from all iniquity, and purify you unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." "Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh, reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting. And let us not be weary in well-doing; for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially to those who are of the household of faith." He would have spoken of the love of God, and of the death of Christ, and of all the great moving facts and doctrines of the Gospel; but, like the sacred writers, he would have turned them all to practical account. His aim in everything would have been to bring men into subjection to God's will, and into full conformity with the teachings and character of Christ.

My eldest brother was a minister, and this was the character of his preaching. His favorite books were Baxter's works and the Bible. His favorite minister was William Dawson, one of the most practical, earnest, and common-sense preachers that ever occupied a pulpit. Like his father, he kept scrupulously to the simple teachings of the Scriptures, and he was once charged with unsoundness in the faith, because he would not be wise above what was revealed, nor preach more than the Gospel committed to him by Christ.

It was the same with myself. I looked on Christianity, from the first, as a means of enlightening and regenerating mankind, and changing them into the likeness of Christ and of God. In other words, I regarded it as a grand instrument appointed by God, for making bad men into good men, and good men always better, thus fitting them for all the duties of life, and all the blessedness they were created to enjoy. And I considered that the great business of a Christian minister was to use it for those great ends. And I think so still.

The Bible is the most practical book under heaven, and I cannot conceive how any one can read it carefully, with a mind unbiased by prejudice or evil feeling, without perceiving that its great object is to bring men to fear and love God, and to make them perfect in every good work to do His will. How any one can study Christianity without perceiving that its design is to bring men into harmony with God, both in heart and action, and to make them steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, is a mystery to me. Antinomianism is Antichrist. The preaching which tends to lessen men's sense of duty, or to reconcile people to a selfish, idle, or useless life, is contrary both to Christianity and common sense. And all interpretations of Scripture which favor the doctrine that men have nothing to do but to believe and trust in Christ, are madness or impiety. The impression which God seeks to make on our minds from the beginning of Genesis to the end of Revelation is, that if we would have His favor and blessing, we must do His will. The whole Bible is one great lesson of piety and virtue, of love and beneficence. Christ is "the Author of eternal salvation to those" only "who obey Him." Those who obey Him not He will punish with everlasting destruction. Christ and His Apostles agree that, if we would see God and have eternal life, we must be "holy as God is holy," "merciful as our Father in heaven is merciful," "righteous as Christ was righteous;"—that God, who is love, and Christ, who is God, must dwell in us, live in us, work in us;—that carnal, sinful self must die, and "grace reign in us through righteousness unto eternal life."

I know what can be said about doctrines; but there are no doctrines in the Scriptures at variance with the principle that "God will render to every man according to his deeds—that to them who by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory, honor, and immortality, He will give eternal life; and that to them who are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, He will recompense indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish." Nay, the doctrines of Scripture are employed throughout as motives and inducements to righteousness. This is their use. The truth is taught us that it may make us free from sin, and sanctify both our hearts and lives to God. The Word of God, the doctrine of Christ, is sown in our hearts as seed in the ground, that it may bring forth in our lives "the fruits of righteousness." The office of faith in Christ and His doctrine is, to "work by love," to make us "new creatures," and so bring us to keep God's commandments. The blindest man on earth is not more blind than the man who can read the Scriptures without perceiving that their object is to make men "perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works."

As I had never been placed for instruction under any Antinomian theologian, and had never been taught at home, either by word or deed, to wrest the Scriptures from their plain and simple meaning, I naturally became a thoroughly practical preacher. I took practical texts: I preached practical sermons. The first text from which I preached was, "Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well with them, for they shall eat the fruit of their doings. Wo unto the wicked, it shall be ill with him; for the reward of his hands shall be given him." The second was, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." The third was, "Ye are not your own; ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God with your bodies and spirits, which are God's." And the fourth was, "These shall go away into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into life eternal." The following were among my principal texts and subjects for many years: "Occupy till I come." "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." "Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit." "He that showeth mercy with cheerfulness." "Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father which is in heaven is merciful." "He that winneth souls is wise." "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." The Good Samaritan. The Prodigal Son. The Barren Fig-tree. The Hatefulness and Wickedness of Lukewarmness. The Woman that did what she could. The Christian's Race. The Good Steward. The duty of Christians to strive with one heart and one mind for the faith of the Gospel. The example of Christ. "Give no occasion to the adversary to preach reproachfully." "And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." "Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord." "For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation: to every one that believeth: to the Jew first, and also to the Greek." "I must work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work." "For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through His poverty might be rich." "As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith." "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting." "Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one, in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself lest thou also be tempted." "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." "Feed My sheep." "Feed My lambs." "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." "Remember the poor." "Freely ye have received; freely give." "It is more blessed to give than to receive." I had quite a multitude of such subjects.

I did not however confine myself to these. I did my best to declare the whole counsel of God. I kept back nothing that seemed likely to be useful to my hearers. I spoke on the love of God—on the condescension of Christ—of His unparalleled love in giving Himself a sacrifice for our salvation. I spoke of His sufferings and death—of His resurrection and mediation—of His sympathy with our sorrows—of His coming to judgment. I spoke of the miseries of sin—of the pleasures of religion—of the joys of heaven—of the pains of hell—of providence, and of trust in God. In short, I preached on every great doctrine of revelation as I had opportunity. I revered all God's truth, and I preached on every part of it with fidelity. But I treated everything in a practical way. I used every subject as a means or motive to holiness and usefulness. And this, I believe, was right. The Apostles did so—Christ did so—and they are the Christian minister's examples.

I had a partiality for practical books. As I have already said, among my favorite English authors were Hooker, and Baxter, and Barrow, and Howe, and Jeremy Taylor, and Penn, and Tillotson, and Law. Baxter stood first, and my favorite books were his Christian Directory, his Life of Faith, his Crucifixion of the World by the Cross of Christ, and his Directions for Settled Peace of Conscience. But, in truth, it is hard to say which of his works I did not regard as favorites. I liked his Catholic Theology, his Aphorisms on Justification, his Confessions, and even his Latin Methodus Theologiæ. I read him everlastingly. I read Law and Barrow too, till I almost knew many of their works by heart. I studied Penn from beginning to end. And I never got tired of reading Hooker. I regarded his Ecclesiastical Polity as one of the richest, sweetest, wisest, saintliest books under heaven.

My favorite French authors were Massillon, Fenelon, Flechier, Bourdaloue and Saurin, all practical preachers. Massillon moved me most. I have read him now at intervals for more than forty years, and I read him still with undiminished profit and delight. He is the greatest of all preachers; the most eloquent, the most powerful; and his works abound with the grandest, the profoundest, the most impressive and overpowering views of truth and duty.

Among the Fathers I liked Lactantius and Chrysostom best, not only for the superiority of their style, but for the common sense and practical character of their sentiments.

My favorite Methodist author, when I first began my Christian career, was Benson. His sermons were full of fervor and power. I felt less interest in Wesley at first. I was incapable of duly appreciating his works. As I grew older, and got more sense, my estimate both of his character and writings rose, and now I like him better, and esteem him more highly, than at any former period of my life. And I like his latest writings best.

I liked Fletcher very much, partly on account of the good, kind Christian feeling that pervaded his writings, and partly on account of his able and unanswerable defence of the enlightened and scriptural views of Wesley, as set forth in the Minutes of 1771.

Among the later Dissenting writers, Robert Hall was my favorite. I liked many things in the writings of John Angell James; but there were other things, especially in his Anxious Inquirer, that appeared to savor more of mysticism than of Christianity, and that seemed better calculated to perplex and embarrass young disciples of Christ, than to afford them guidance and comfort.

There were many other good authors whom I read and prized, but most of the above I read till their thoughts and feelings became, to a great extent, my own; and the effect of all was to strengthen the already strong practical tendency of my mind.

But no book did so much to make me a practical preacher as the Bible. It is practical throughout—intensely practical, and nothing else but practical. The moment it introduces man to our notice, it presents him as subject to God's law, and represents his life and blessedness as depending entirely on his obedience. God is presented from the first as an avenger of sin, and as a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him. In His address to Cain He sets forth the whole principle of His government: 'If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? But if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door.' Enoch is translated because he walked with God. The world is destroyed because of its wickedness, and Noah is saved because of his righteousness. Abraham is blessed because he observes the statutes and judgments of God, and because he is ready to make the greatest sacrifices out of respect to His commands. The sum of the whole revelation given to the Jews is, "Behold I set before you life and death, a blessing and a curse. Obey, and all conceivable blessings shall be your portion: disobey, and all imaginable curses shall fall on you." The history of the Jews is an everlasting story of obedience and prosperity, of disobedience and adversity. The history of individuals is the same. The just live; the wicked die. The good are honored; the bad are put to shame. The Psalms, the Proverbs, and the Prophets are all lessons of righteousness. Righteousness exalteth nations; sin brings them down to destruction. And Jesus and Paul, and Peter and James, and Jude and John, have all one aim, to bless men by turning them away from their iniquities, and by urging them to perpetual advancement in holiness. All the histories, all the biographies, all the prophecies, all the parables, all the preaching, all the praying, all the writing, all the reasoning, all the things the Book contains, have just one object, to make men good, and urge them to grow continually better. All the doctrines are practical, and are used as motives to purity, love and beneficence. All the promises are given to support and cheer people in the faithful discharge of their duty. All the warnings are to keep men from idleness, selfishness and sin. The Church and all its ministries; the Scriptures and all their revelations; Providence and all its dispensations; nature and all her operations, are all presented as means and motives to a life of holy love and usefulness. The Bible has nothing, is nothing, but laws and lessons, aiming at the illumination, the sanctification, the moral and spiritual perfection of mankind.

Idleness and selfishness are the greatest of all heresies, and love and beneficence the perfection of all religion. No doctrine can be falser or more anti-christian than the doctrine that a man may sow one thing and reap another; that he may sow tares and reap wheat; or sow cockle and reap barley—that he can grow thistles and reap figs, or plant thorns and gather grapes. 'He that doeth good is of God;' 'he that committeth sin is of the devil.' 'By this we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren.' 'By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.' 'Ye know that every one that doeth righteousness, or lives to do good, is born of God.' 'By their fruits ye shall know them.' Good trees will bring forth good fruit, bad trees will bring forth bad fruit. 'Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit shall be hewn down and cast into the fire.'

But to give all the practical passages the Bible contains you must quote the substance, the soul, the bulk of the whole Book. It is all of a piece. It has one aim and one tendency from beginning to end, to kill sin and foster righteousness, to crush selfishness and develop philanthropy. It consists of a multitude of parts, written in different ages, by a great variety of authors, in a great variety of styles, but it has one spirit, the spirit of truth and righteousness. And the last oracles it contains are like the first: 'Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord; they rest from their labors, and their works follow them.' 'Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have a right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city.'

Under the influence of this most rational, common-sense, practical Book, what could I do but become a thoroughly practical preacher? What could I do but drink in its blessed, god-like lessons, and make it the great business of my life to teach them and preach them to my hearers, and urge them on their consciences as the governing principles of their hearts and lives?

The book of nature preaches the same practical Gospel as the Bible. There is not a creature on earth that is not required to work. Birds, beasts and insects must all labor, or die. The birds must build their nests, and gather supplies of food for themselves and their young, or they would all perish. The cattle must graze, or browse, or burrow, or dive, or lack their needed supplies of food. The beaver must build its dam, and the wolf must dig its hole, and both must labor for their daily food. The bee must gather her wax, and build her cell, and fetch home her honey, or starve. The ant must build her palace and look out for food both for herself and her family. The spider must spin her thread, and weave her web, and watch all day for her prey. All seek their food from God, and obtain it at his hands as the reward of their industry.

Every organ in man's body has to work, or the body, with all its organs, would die. The lungs must be continually breathing, and the heart incessantly beating, and the blood perpetually running its mysterious round, or the whole frame would perish. And the hands must work, and the feet must walk, and the eyes must look, and the ears must listen, and the tongue must talk. And the jaws must grind our food, and the stomach digest it, and the liver and the spleen, and the brain and the bowels, and the nerves and the glands must all co-operate, or we hasten to the dust.

And so it is through every department of nature. All things are full of labor. The vegetable world serves the animal world, and the animal world serves the vegetable world, and the mineral and meteorological worlds serve them both. And the branches of the tree shed their leaves to feed the roots, and the roots collect moisture and nutriment from the soil to feed the branches and the leaves. And the clouds let fall their showers, and the sun sheds down his warmth and light, and the more mysterious powers of nature exert their secret influences, and all things are thus kept right. And the winds keep ever in motion, bearing away the surplus cold of one region to temper the excessive heat of another, and carrying back the surplus heat of the warmer climes, to soften the rigors of the colder ones. And so throughout the universe. There is not an idle orb in the whole heavens, nor is there an idle atom on earth. The sun the moon and the stars are in eternal motion, and are evermore exerting their wondrous influences for the good of the whole universe. And the streams are ever flowing, and the sea is ever toiling. The great things and the small, the seen and the unseen, the conscious and the unconscious, are all at work, helping themselves, and serving each other, and contributing with one consent to the welfare of the great mysterious whole. Nature's laws are so framed that idleness is everywhere punished, and honest industry everywhere rewarded. Everywhere obedience is life, and disobedience death. Salvation by works is the principle of the Divine Government throughout the universe, among all the creatures of God.

My favorite preachers were William Dawson, David Stoner and James Parsons, all eloquent and earnest men, and all decidedly practical. I never missed an opportunity of hearing them if they came within five or six miles of the place where I lived. And many of their sermons which I heard more than forty years ago are still fresh in my memory, and continue to exert a happy influence on my heart.

William Dawson was a local preacher, a farmer. He was a large, broad-chested, big-headed, strong built man—one of the finest specimens of a well-made, thoroughly developed Englishman I ever saw. And he was full of life. There was not a sluggish atom in his whole body, nor a slow-going faculty in his whole soul. He had eyes like fire; and his face was the most expressive I ever looked upon. And his voice was loud as the fall of mighty waters. And it was wonderfully flexible, and full of music. And he always spoke in natural tones. There was nothing like cant or monotony in his utterance. Yet he would raise his voice to such a pitch at times that you could hear him half a mile away. He was the most perfect actor I ever saw, because he was not an actor at all, but awful, absolute reality. And he was a man of wonderful intelligence and good sense. And he was well read. His mind was full to overflowing of the soundest religious knowledge. And his good sound sense had no perceptible admixture of nonsense. Every sentence answered to your best ideas of the right, the true, the holy, the divine. His grammar, his logic, and his rhetoric were perfect, and all nature seemed to stand by to supply him with apt, and striking, and touching illustrations. And his soul was full of feeling. He seemed to sympathize with every form of humanity, from the helpless babe to tottering age, and to be one with them in all their joys and sorrows, and in all their hopes and fears. And now he would cry with the crying child, and then he would wail with the afflicted mother. All that is great, all that is tender, all that is terrible—all nature, with all that is human, and much that was divine, seemed incarnated in him. He was the most wonderful embodiment of all that goes to make a great, a mighty, a complete man, and a good, an able, and an all-powerful preacher, it ever was my privilege to see. As a matter of course, his prayers, his sermons, and his public speeches were irresistible. Sinners trembled, and fell on their knees praying and howling. Saints shouted, and lost themselves in transports. His congregations were always crowded, and the dense, mixed masses of men and women, good and evil, old and young, all were moved by him like the sea by a strong wind. All understood him: all felt him; and all were awed and bowed as by the power of God. His sermons were always practical. Whether he spake to the saint or the sinner, he went directly to the conscience. And all that he said you saw. Sin stared you full in the face and looked unspeakably sinful; it rose and stood before you a monster group of all imaginable horrors and abominations. The sinner shook, he shrank, he writhed at the sight, in mortal agony. God, as Dawson pictured Him, was terrible in majesty and infinite in glory. Jesus was the perfection of tenderness, of love, and power, and almighty to save. Thousands were converted under him. His influence pervaded the whole country, and was everywhere a check on evil, and a power for good. The effect of his ministry on me, on my imagination, my mind and my heart, was living and powerful to the last degree, and I remember his sermons, and feel his power, to the present day, and he will dwell in my memory, to be loved and honored, as long as I live.

David Stoner was a travelling preacher. He lived in the same village as William Dawson, and was a member of his class. He was a disciple of Dawson in every respect, but in no respect a servile imitator. He was a man and not a slave. And he had much of Dawson's sense, and much of Dawson's power, though little or nothing of Dawson's natural dramatic manner. He was a fountain pouring forth a perpetual stream of truth and holy influence. The two were one in love, and light, and power, but in manner they differed as much as any two powerful preachers I ever knew. Both live in my soul, and speak with my voice, and write with my pen. Both had an influence in determining both the method of my preaching and the manner of my life in my early days.

James Parsons was a Congregationalist. His character, and the character of his preaching, may be learned from his published sermons. But, strange to say, the sermons published by himself, are not near so good, nor do they convey half so good an idea of his power, as those reported by short-hand writers and published by others. He was more, and better, and mightier in the pulpit, before a large and living congregation, than in his closet alone. My remembrance of these three great and godly men, and powerful Christian ministers, is a rich and eternal treasure. I can never come near them, but I may follow them, as I did in the days of my youth, "Afar off."

Whether the strong practical tendency of my mind did not carry me too far sometimes, and make my preaching somewhat one-sided, I cannot say. I may not be considered qualified to judge. I have, however, an opinion on the subject. My impression is, that my method of preaching was thoroughly scriptural and evangelical. And it was, I believe, the kind of preaching which the Church and the world particularly needed. It was, too, the kind of preaching to which I believe I was specially called, and for which I was specially fitted. It was the only kind in which I felt myself perfectly at home. And the effects were good. Sinners were converted. Unbelievers were convinced. And believers were improved and comforted. They were led to read and study the Scriptures more, and to read and study them with greater pleasure, and to greater profit. They became more enamoured of Christianity, more zealous for its spread, and more able in its defence.

And the societies among which I labored always prospered, and those among which I labored most prospered most abundantly. My labors proved especially useful to the young. My classes were crowded with thoughtful, earnest, inquiring youths. And those who fell under my influence became, as a rule, intelligent, devoted, and useful characters. Not a few of them continue laborious and exemplary Christians, and able and successful ministers, to the present day. I meet with good and useful people almost everywhere, many of whom are in the ministry, who acknowledge me as their spiritual father, and consider themselves indebted to my former ministry, and to my early writings, both for their standing and usefulness in the Church, and for their success and happiness in life.

One would suppose that a method of preaching which was followed by such happy results, should have been encouraged. And so it was by the great mass of the people. They heard me gladly. They came in crowds wherever I was announced to preach, and filled the largest chapels to their utmost capacity. They drank in my words with eagerness, and made no secret of the place I occupied in their affection and esteem. But many of my brethren in the ministry regarded me with great disquietude. They thought my preaching grievously defective. "It failed," they said, "to give due prominence to the distinctive features of the gospel economy." "It is good," they would say, "as far as it goes; but it does not go far enough. It is too vague, too general. His sermons are beautiful and good in their way, but they are not the Gospel. They are true; but they are not the whole truth. There is not enough of Christ in them. We find fault with them, not for what they contain, but for what they do not contain. True, they make mention of the great facts and doctrines of Christianity, but they do not make enough of them; they do not dwell on them as their constant theme." They made many such complaints. They charged me with winning from my hearers, for a partial and defective view of the Gospel, the love and reverence which were due only to a very different view. They called me a legalist, a work-monger, and other offensive names. They charged me too with spoiling the people, with giving them a distaste for ordinary kinds of preaching, and making it hard for other preachers to follow me. The complaints they whispered in the ears of their friends soon found their way to mine. I endeavored to justify myself by appeals to Scripture, to Wesley, and to other authorities. It would have been better perhaps if I had kept silent and gone quietly on with my work. But some of my friends thought otherwise. They wished to be furnished with answers to my traducers, and so constrained me to speak. My defence only led to renewed and more violent attacks. My opponents could not think well of my style of preaching, without thinking ill of their own. They could not acknowledge my method to be evangelical, without confessing their own to be grievously defective, and to have expected them to do that would have been the extreme of folly. They could do no other therefore than regard me as a dangerous man, and do what they could to bring my preaching and sentiments into suspicion, and prepare the way for my exclusion from the ministry. This was the second cause of the unhappy feeling which took possession of my mind.

A few quotations from a Journal written about this time may be of use and interest here.

Modern Skepticism: A Journey Through the Land of Doubt and Back Again

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