W V PREACHERS AND CHURCHES ABROAD ITH a large crowd, on a Sunday afternoon, in 1860, I stood at the door of Westminster Abbey, and awaited admission. In due time the doors were opened. The services were dignified and impressive. The prayers and scripture lessons were intoned by a large choir of men and boys. An instructive sermon was preached by Canon Wordsworth on the use of music in religion, from the text, "What doest thou here, Elijah?" As the preacher spoke of the oratorio of the Messiah, and of its composer, Handel, "whose mortal remains," he said "lie near this spot," I felt the charm of the place. On other Sundays the same summer I attended divine service in different places according to the forms of the Church of England. The congregations were large, and the services devout and edifying. It especially pleased me at vespers, in different churches on successive Sundays, to hear the same hymn sung at the close of the service by the whole congregation: "Glory to Thee, my God, this night." Of the great preachers in London, I heard Spurgeon and Cumming. The former was advertised to preach a charity sermon for the benefit of a hospital, and I went to St. James Hall, expecting to hear something of the connection between Christianity and the amelioration of the maladies of the world. But the preacher made no reference to the subject. His sermon was a simple exhortation, fervid, solemn, with nothing striking but an apostrophe to lost spirits, inquiring if indecision and procrastination were not the causes of their ruin. Mr. Spurgeon is not a brilliant genius, nor profound thinker, but has a happy faculty of illustrating truth from familiar objects, after the manner of our Lord's parables. His voice is of remarkable compass and power. He is a thorough Englishman, self-complacent, self-assured. It was lamentable to see that he shared in the suspicion and prejudice against France, which marks the English mind. The "volunteer movement" was then absorbing public attention. Fears were expressed in Parliament of an invasion from France. While the question was being discussed, whether the reliance for defense should be upon land fortifications, or a larger navy, the organization of volunteer companies was proposed; bounties were offered to them by the government, and there was a general furor for the movement. In company with other distinguished clergymen Mr. Spurgeon applauded the movement, and gave his influence to foster among his countrymen an injurious prejudice against a sister nation. I was agreeably disappointed in Dr. John Cumming. Having known of him chiefly by his discourses on Prophecy, and by his calculations of what was to come to pass in 1864, I had conceived of him as a presumptuous man, with more zeal then knowledge, with more assurance than judgment. This conception was soon removed as I saw nothing of pretension or extravagance in the preacher, but that grace was poured into his lips. Instead of a discourse upon the Apocalypse or the Papacy, the reputed staples of his sermons, he spoke from the text, "God is Love." The preacher has a clear and silvery voice. He enriched the theme with fine illustrations from the fields of nature, and from facts in human history, and awakened a thrill of joy in every hearer that "This God is our God forever and ever." In reading the Scriptures, Dr. Cumming expounded the fifteenth chapter of the Acts, and made an application of the principles there laid down by the apostles, to the questions that now divide the household of faith. He expressed the largest charity and liberality. "In unessential matters, in questions of form and ceremony, the Bible," he said, "is magnificantly latitudinarian. It is the presence of the queen that makes the palace. It is the presence of a bishop that makes Episcopacy, of a presbyter that makes Presbyterianism, of a congregation that makes Congregationalism. But it is the presence of Christ that makes Christianity; and where any number of Christ's people are, there is a church. The clergy are no more the church than the officers of an army are the army. The soldiers are the army, and the people are the church." At Bedford I visited the places made memorable in the life of the author of the "Pilgrim's Progress," and attended divine service in the large Bunyan Chapel where the catholic principles of its founder prevail in the practice of open communion. In this place I also attended the chapel which bears the name of John Howard the Philanthropist, of which he was one of the founders. In these services there was hardly anything different from those of a staid New England church. At Edinburgh I saw an imposing assemblage of eminent men from different parts of Scotland, and from England, Ireland, and Holland, who had come together to celebrate the third centennial of the establishment of the Reformation in Scotland. Thomas Guthrie, the prince of preachers in that part of the world, gave the opening sermon from the text, "The Truth shall make you free." As he arose, his bland and genial manner recalled Henry Clay to my mind, though he has not the grace and fascination of our great orator. His thoughts were noble and inspiring, a brilliant defense of freedom, and of the high and holy place that belongs to it in the religion of Christ. At Manchester I attended Cavendish Chapel and was impressed with the reverent and hearty worship of the congregation, and with the impassioned eloquence of the preacher, Joseph Parker, who bore the marks of an original and independent thinker, with somewhat of self-assurance in his delivery. Subsequently, he came to his great fame in the "City Temple," London. Again going abroad in 1881, I was happy to attend public worship in other temples, and hear other preachers. Among Jews and Roman Catholics, in the Greek Church, in the Church of England, in the Catholic Apostolic Church which cherishes the memory of Edward Irving, and in churches of other denominations, I counted it a pleasure to share in their devotions and observe their ceremonies. In Scotland, at Glasgow, I visited the ancient cathedral and admired its windows "so richly dight;" I also visited the plain Iron Church, in which Thomas Chalmers had preached. In Stirling, I walked the aisles of Grey Friars, and stood by the graves of the Covenanters. In Edinburgh as I stood in St. Gile's, the spirit of John Knox passed before me, and I heard the trumpet blast of that voice which overturned the altars of superstition, and filled Scotland with schools and a people famous for intelligence and sturdy vigor. In London I joined an eager crowd that thronged the doorways of St. Margaret's, Westminster, where Canon Farrar was preacher. It was Trinity Sunday. The congregation seemed to consist of intellectual and cultured people. Members of Parliament and men of prominence in public affairs are regular attendants. The theme of discourse was the practical use of the doctrine of the Trinity as an assurance of the divine love. The Athanasian creed was chanted. The preacher spoke with disapproval of its anathemas, and proclaimed the love of God for all mankind with ardor and vigor, and he enforced the lesson that if God so loves us, we ought to love one another, and not live in alien and separated classes, but in mutual sympathy as children of a common Father. Pride, hauteur, and exclusiveness on the part of the favorites of birth or fortune received rebuke. The preacher evinced the broad range of his mind, affluence of learning, and the larger hope, which give him an honored place among religious teachers. In the afternoon of the same day I enjoyed a song service at St. Andrew's, with boys' voices, that were well trained. In the evening I went to hear an original and independent preacher, who, after an honored service in the Church of England, withdrew to a position of his own. Rev. Stopford Brooke is one of the most accomplished literary men of the time. His "Primer of English Literature" is a marvel of condensation and just criticism. We owe to his skilful pen the "Life of Frederick W. Robertson," the gifted preacher of Brighton. He was for several years one of the Queen's favorite chaplains. From the convictions of his own mind it has seemed to Mr. Brooke that the Church of England stands in the interest of an aristocratic theory, and in opposition to religious progress and the advancement of human society. He regards it as having systematized exclusiveness and caste among Christians, and placed Non-conformists. under a social ban. He has found it so in his own experience, Church people, so called, having ostracised him and his family. Strong, however, in manhood, and self-reliant, he goes his own way. He repudiates the authority of creeds, nor does he recognize an ultimate authority in the Bible, but in the reason and conscience, which he deems the divine in man. He discussed the themes with vigor, but with extreme views, without the careful discrimination it requires. His opinions seem somewhat unsettled, but we respect him as a man of sincere convictions, ardent in the pursuit of truth, fearless and bold in virtue's cause. His moral sense appears in his trenchant lines: JUSTICE "Two men went out one summer night, No care had they or aim, And drank and drank; 'Ere we go home,' |