USE OF THE TONGUE.

And indeed we have need to ponder Consistency when we come to "the unruly member." It is not often, perhaps, that the risks of the tongue are specially present in a bachelor's life in lodgings. But they are not absent there. Friends come in, and we will suppose that you and they are waited upon at your meal. What does the servant hear? Much talk about other and absent persons? Unkind or flippant criticisms? Idle, frivolous words? Very likely not, thank God; for we do want to remember our Lord. But let us take heed. Nothing is more conspicuously inconsistent in the Christian than needless, unloving discussion of the characters and lives of others; nothing is more keenly noticed when overheard; nothing more breaks the spell of influence for God.

"Quisquis amat dictis absentum rodere vitam, Hanc mensam vetitam noverit esse sibi."[11]

[11] POSSIDONIUS: De Vita Augustini, c. 22.

Such was the memento which St Augustine had inscribed upon his dining-table. He found it necessary to remind the Bishops (coepiscopi) whom he entertained not to misuse their ordained tongues. And the Pastors of the nineteenth century need it still, quite as much as it was needed in the fifth.

"SET A WATCH."

It is impossible, of course, to lay down exhaustive rules for the Christian guidance of conversation in detail. It is quite certain that the Gospel does not prescribe, or intend, that we should never speak except about things spiritual, or even except about our special duties in the Ministry. But it is quite certain too that the Gospel does prescribe inexorably the utmost watchfulness and self-discipline in the matter of the tongue, for all who name the Name of Christ. "For every idle word that men shall speak they shall give account" [Matt. xii. 36.]; "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but such as is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers" [Eph. iv. 29.]; "If any man among you seem to be devout ([Greek: threskos]), and bridleth not his tongue, that man's devoutness ([Greek: threkeia]) is vain" [Jas. i. 26.]; "Set a watch, O Lord, before my lips." [Ps. cxli. 3.]

LIFE IN A CLERGY-HOUSE.

I may say a few words in this connexion about the peculiar call for care and consistency where a group of young Clergymen live together in a "clergy-house."

*ITS OPPORTUNITIES AND NEEDS.

It seems to me that such groups must in the nature of the case be either means of the greatest good in the mutual intercourse of their members, or just the opposite. As sure as corruptio optimi est pessima, so sure it is that the young Clergyman who is not consistent in temper, word, and habit, is the most unhelpful specimen of the young man; just because of the discord between his ministerial character and his personal. And if, say, three or four young servants of God (by profession) domicile together and are not consistent, I am afraid they will positively and actively draw one another, without in the least meaning to do so, away from the mind of Christ and the walk with God. Do they allow themselves to engage in trivial foolish, unkind talk? Do they so valiantly determine "not to be goody-goody" as tacitly to avoid all open-hearted, loving, reverent conversation about their Lord and His truth? Are they much fonder of endless argument than of the Word of God and prayer? Do their united devotions tend to be formal and perfunctory? Do they (I come back to that point again) "bridle not their tongues" about the absent, about those over them, about those who differ from them? Then they are doing each other harm, at a rapid rate, by their collocation. On the other hand, are they each for himself living close to their Master and Friend in the secret chamber and in the inner heart? Are they walking humbly and gladly with their God, much in prayer, and having the Scriptures often open? And are they considering one another, to provoke unto love and to good works? Are they remembering generally and habitually the sacredness of the duty of mutual influence and example, in personal habits, and otherwise? Are they determined each for himself to help his brethren in all things pure, and just, and lovable, and of good report, and to strengthen them to endure hardness, and not to be ashamed of the blessed Name? Then they are blessing one another in Christ, as few men otherwise can do. But personal, individual consistency is the absolute requisite to this; each man must follow the Lord for himself in faith and fear.

THE DUTY OF EXAMPLE.

I spoke just above of the sacredness of the duty of example. It is a theme on which I entreat my younger Brethren very often to reflect, with self-scrutiny before their Master: I may be wrong, but I cannot help thinking that here is a duty which is decidedly less remembered now, among young Christian men, than it was in other days. With exceptions many and bright, I yet fear that there is a decline in this matter as a rule. That unhappy individualism which is the bane of our day, and which is the fatal enemy of all true and healthy individuality, breathes its malaria through even earnest Christian circles. In the formation or allowance of personal habits, in particular, it is sadly common to see young Christian men practically quite forgetful of the power and responsibility of example. I do not think that this was quite so common twenty or thirty years ago. Not that I wish to take up the futile part of a mere laudator temporis acti; I believe that the phenomenon has its reasons, its law so to speak, in the peculiar conditions of our day. But then the Christian man is never to be the slave of the conditions of his day, while he is to "serve his own generation by the will of God." [Acts xiii. 36.] So I appeal most urgently to my reader, if he should chance to need the friendly call, to awake to a renewed attention to the responsibility of example, and to watch accordingly over consistency in everything.

"FOR THEIR SAKES."

With the humblest reverence may I quote in this connexion the words of our blessed Lord in the High Priestly Prayer? "For their sakes I sanctify Myself." So said JESUS CHRIST. [John xvii. 19.] Perfectly holy personally, He was yet always deliberately hallowing Himself, separating Himself, to the Father's will and work, "for their sakes"; because of His relations with His disciples. Shall not we sinners, at whatever interval, yet really, "follow His steps" in this also? "For their sakes," for the sake of our brethren in the Ministry, for the sake of our servants, for the sake of our neighbour of all sorts and kinds, let us "sanctify ourselves" in a daily, willing separation from the way of self to the will of God, diligently seeking the expression of that will in His holy Word. It is the duty of every Christian. It is par excellence the duty of every Christian Minister, from the oldest Archbishop to the youngest Deacon. To take Orders is to renounce all ideas of a selfishly private life. Our whole life henceforth is "for their sakes"; even in those parts of it which must, from another point of view, be most jealously protected from officialism, and lived as if for the time no one existed but the man and his God. We are emphatically now "their bondmen for Jesus' sake." [2 Cor. iv. 5.] "Others" have now an indefeasible right not only to our ministry of Ordinances, and to our preaching, and our visiting, but to the example of our habits, of our lives.

MANNER.

Following up the same line of remark, let me say a word about our duty to others in the matter of manner. It is sometimes, surely, forgotten by Christian men that they have no right to be careless of their manner. Many an excellent and otherwise consistent Clergyman seems to assume that, whether with his brethren or with his parish neighbours, his manner may take care of itself, if he only "does not mean it." But well-meaning is a poor substitute for well-doing; especially that otiose sort of well-meaning which only means not meaning ill.

*"NOBLESSE OBLIGE."

Christians have no business with so poor and thin a phantom of virtue. They are not at liberty not to think about a kindly courtesy of address, and a manly deference towards elders, and watchful "honour" given to woman [1 Pet. iii. 7.], and a manifested (as well as felt) sympathy of heart with all who ask it. They are forbidden by the whole will and rights of their Master to be loud and "casual" in intercourse; to be moody and uncertain; to be difficult to please, easy to offend; to think it a small thing to speak the word to others which may wound, even lightly, with any wound but the really "faithful" one of a loving caution or reproof in Christ. No one is to be so independent in one aspect as the Christian man, and particularly the Christian Minister. Few men have so strong a vantage-ground for independence as the Clergyman of the English national Church. But it is the sort of independence which carries also the deepest obligation, the strongest sort of noblesse oblige. It is "for their sakes." And so the same man is bound to be also the most accessible, the most attentive, the most courteous and sympathetic. Avoiding carefully, of course, all affectation and unreality, he is to take care that a Christian reality within does show itself in a Christian manner without. "Let your moderation, your oblivion of self, be known unto all men." [Phil. iv. 5.] Let it be seen and felt, in your rooms, in your parish, in your church.

TEMPER.

Obviously this takes for granted the Clergyman's recognition of the call to "rule his spirit." [Prov. xvi. 32.] The temptation not to do so is very different for different men. One man finds temper and patience sorely tried by things which do not even attract the attention of another. But very few men indeed, in the actual experiences of pastoral life, whether in town or country, quite escape for long together the stings which irritate and inflame. But they must learn how to meet them in peace and patience, unless they would take one of the most certain ways to dishonour their Master and discredit their message. The world has some very true instincts about the power of the Gospel, as it ought to be, as it claims to be. And one of them is that a Christian as such is a man who ought always to keep his temper. The Christian Clergyman is most certainly, at least in an ironical sense, "expected" never to be personally vexed and hot. Will it be so? Will he take ignorant rudeness pleasantly, should it cross his way? Will he meet opposition patiently, however firmly? Will he show that he remembers the text, "The bondservant of the Lord must not strive"? [2 Tim. ii. 24.]

THE REV. C. SIMEON.

That text was the watchword of a great man of God, the Rev. Charles Simeon, in the early and exquisitely trying experiences of his long ministry (1782-1836) at Trinity Church, Cambridge. The parishioners shut their house-doors in his face, and locked their pew-doors against those who came to hear him. Every form of irritating parochial obstruction was employed. And the young Clergyman had by nature a very short temper, and a very fearless spirit. But he had found peace through the blood of the Cross a few years before, and the interests of his Saviour were become all in all to him. So his first thought was, what would best commend Jesus Christ to the angry people? And the words seemed to sound constantly in his soul, by way of answer, "The servant of the Lord must not strive." Never was tried patience more beautifully made perfect. He was always giving way, and always going on. He carefully ascertained that it was illegal to lock the pew-doors; but he did not take the law of those who locked them. His soul was kept in peace; and by degrees, as might be expected, a calmness which clearly was not cowardice but consistency won a victory whose effects are felt to this day through the whole Church of England in the results of Simeon's mighty influence.[12]

[12] I may be permitted to refer to my brief sketch of Mr Simeon's Life: Charles Simeon (Methuen, 1892), ch. iv.

THE SECRET OF PEACE.

How shall we, in our measure, whenever called to it, "not strive," but "let our oblivion of self be known unto all men"—in the cottage, in the villa, in the vestry? There is only one way. It is by abiding in the Secret of the Presence, in the "pavilion" where "the strife of tongues" may be heard indeed, but cannot, no, cannot, set the hearer on fire. We must claim on our knees, very often, our Master's power to keep the soul which He has made, and which longs to manifest Him

"In faith, in meekness, love, In every beauteous grace, From glory thus to glory changed As we behold His face."

POWER OF A CONSISTENT LIFE.

I have inevitably touched only some parts of the great subject of personal ministerial Consistency. More will be said later. But the treatment on paper, at almost any length, must be incomplete at the best; many an important side of the subject will need to be omitted. My aim has been, and will be, to speak of those sides most, if not only, which are in special danger of neglect at the present day; and this means of course the passing by of some large topics.

PAINS AND MEANS.

But contributions, however fragmentary, to the study of Consistency will not be in vain. "A Minister's life is the life of his ministry," says some one of other days with pithy force. "Happy those labourers of the Church," says blessed Quesnel, the Jansenist (on Mark vi. 33), "the sweet odour of whose lives draws the people to Jesus Christ." We all recognize the beauty and truth of such sayings. We all admit the fitness and duty of Consistency. But we must also recollect that in order to our consistency there is needed more than an abstract approbation; we must attend, we must reflect, we must examine ourselves, we must discipline ourselves, as those who aim at an object at once lovely and necessary. Above all, we must "order our steps in our Lord's Word," [Ps. cxix. 133.] and we must maintain a living communion of spirit with our Lord Himself, who is not only our Exemplar, our Law, and our King, but also our Secret, our Strength, our Life.



CHAPTER V.

THE DAILY WALK WITH OTHERS (ii.).

If Jesus Christ thou serve, take heed, Whate'er the hour may be; His brethren are obliged indeed By their nobility.

In the present chapter I follow the general principles of the last into some further details. And I place before me as a sort of motto those twice-repeated words of the Apostle, TAKE HEED UNTO THYSELF.

These words, it will be remembered, are addressed in both places to the Christian Minister. [Acts xx. 28; 1 Tim. iv. 6.] At Miletus St Paul gathers round him the Presbyters of Ephesus, and implores them to take heed to themselves, and to the flock. A few years later he writes to Timothy, commissioned (whether permanently or not) to be Pastor of Pastors in that same Ephesus, and lays it on his soul to take heed to himself, and to the doctrine. In each case the appeal to attend to "self" comes first, as the vital preliminary to the other. And in each case it takes the form of a solemn warning; not only "remember" but "TAKE HEED."

TAKE HEED UNTO THYSELF.

I have already tried to emphasize the duty of "heed-taking," in several directions. But I come in this chapter to some important matters which seem specially to fall under such a heading; matters in which the lack of prayerful heed may, and often does, work great and even fatal mischief in the lives of Clergymen.

RELATIONS WITH WOMAN.

i. Let me first say a little, in brotherly confidence and candour, about the young Clergyman's relations with Woman in ordinary intercourse.

It would be waste of words to talk about the delicacy of the subject; it is self-evident. And it is obvious also that in a book like this the subject can be treated only in the way of general suggestion; no vain attempt shall I make to state and discuss possible exceptional cases of social difficulty. But it is quite necessary to say something on this matter, for it is indeed a pressing and important thing in ministerial life.

I will begin, then, with the assumption that the young Clergyman recognizes, and seeks to practise, the great Gospel principle of a sanctified chivalry. "To the feminine vessel, as to the weaker, give honour," writes St Peter [1 Pet iii. 7.]; words which must be cut large and deep into our ministerial hearts if we are to live as true Ministers and true men. They have a particular reference to married life, I know; but their full scope is far wider. And they are among the most wonderful utterances of the apostolic Gospel, when we read them in the light, or rather under the contrasted darkness, of the contemporary anti-chivalry of the Rabbinic teaching about woman. They are the utterance of Peter, the married man, after his discipleship in the Spirit at the feet of Jesus, the Mother's Son. "Giving honour;" do not forget the phrase. It lifts us into a higher and far healthier region than that of either mere fondness or mere admiration. Indeed, it is all-important to remember what a deep gulph lies between two things which at first sight may be mistaken for one another—Admiration for Women, Reverence for Woman.

So let apostolic chivalry, unaffected, but watchful and practical, govern your life, by the grace of God. Let it be quite impartial as a principle. You may possibly have to speak with a princess; you are sure to have to speak and deal with very poor and ignorant women. But each and all they are WOMAN, and you must remember the Apostle's word. Courtesy and consideration are due to them all, as you are a man, a Christian, a Minister of God. The expression may vary, and within limits it must, but the principle must be always there. To the poorest woman give the wall in the street, offer the best seat in the train.

WE ARE TRUSTED.

I must here so far anticipate a future chapter as to point out how constantly this call to "give honour" must be remembered in pastoral visitation. We Clergy are trusted to an extraordinary degree in personal intercourse with female parishioners. How often a pastoral call is paid, whether at mansion or cottage, when no man is at home! "Take heed unto thyself" then. The call under those circumstances should be as brief as possible. And the whole interview should be ruled by a heedful while unobtrusive respect and self-respect. Do not think a strong word of caution in this matter out of place and out of scale. Carelessness of even appearances here may wreck a life; it may certainly blight an influence.

WHEN AND HOW TO TAKE HEED.

But I do not forget that we are not yet concerned directly with pastoral visitation as such; we are thinking of incidental social intercourse. The young Clergyman will sometimes, however seldom, find himself visiting in not exactly the pastoral sense of the word. Courteous hospitality will be shown him by neighbours; and while he will very often decline these calls, because his Master's work in other and more obvious forms claims him, sometimes he will accept them, as his Master did. Or his needful holiday has come, and he is staying at a friend's house, or is thrown into new intercourse at some health-resort. And we will suppose that he is a bachelor, and not engaged. In what particular directions shall he take heed?

"KNOW THYSELF."

Below and above all details, he will take heed to remember his always present Lord and Friend, and to live and talk as knowing that "HE is the unseen Listener to every conversation"; a recollection which ought to banish from our talk, whether we talk with man or woman, alike frivolity, unkindness, untruthfulness, and dulness. Then, to come to a few details under that great principle—the man will need to watch and be heedful in one or more quite different directions, according to his character. And God grant us all such honesty and simplicity before Him as shall teach us to know at least something of our own characters, especially in their weak points. There ought to be no surer prescription for a true [Greek: gnothi seauton] than to "walk in the light" [1 John i. 7.] of the presence of Him who sees everything just as it is, and in that light to look at ourselves, and the world, and His Word; aiming every day, not to be thought "nice," or to be thought remarkable, but to let Him shine out of our lives.

THE DUTY OF RESERVE.

One man, then, will need more than another to cultivate a quiet reserve and restraint of manner in social intercourse with young ladies. It is the way of some men, without thinking about it, to be too demonstratively attentive. It is the way of others to forget that they are not everywhere at home, and to be far too familiarly friendly. "I look on every girl I meet as if she were my sister;" so said one young Clergyman, a very fine fellow indeed, but certainly in this sentiment very much and very dangerously mistaken. Attentions and confidences may be meant as honestly as possible. But if they go beyond a certain line (soon reached) they may most naturally be thought to mean something more; to be a preliminary, however distant, to an offer. And just possibly such a thought may not be unwelcome to the other person concerned. And if so, and if all the while nothing but courtesy was meant, you, my friend and Brother, without knowing it, perhaps without ever knowing it, may spoil the life of one who cannot possibly, as a woman, express herself to you. I have known such a case in clerical life. The man was a true man, but he allowed himself, for the pleasantness of it, to be very agreeable where he meant no more than friendship. Great, while silent, was the sorrow that resulted. Take heed unto thyself.

SPECIAL RISKS.

There are some parochial circumstances where even unusual caution is needed in this direction; for reasons which I allude to with pain. It is a fact, I fear, that in some parishes the Curate is in danger of being rather actively pursued, by here and there a parent, as a possibly desirable son-in-law. I have even heard of a certain Incumbent who was given not indistinctly to understand that the coming Curate would be less welcome if he was a man already married. Such a state of things is of course one of exceptional social risk and difficulty for a Curate, and for a young single Rector or Vicar still more so. Nothing will do but a very real "heed-taking," beginning always in secret with God, and then quietly carried out with sanctified common-sense. Fatal mistakes, really fatal to future usefulness in the Ministry, may very easily be made otherwise.

But then there is an opposite side to the question. Some young men, not all certainly but a good many, are in great danger of a rather exaggerated estimate of their own attractions and importance. There are some junior Clergymen who are, if I do not mistake, prone to think that most young ladies whom they meet are fascinated by them, or are at least in imminent peril. Such delusions meet sometimes with not very gentle corrections. But it is better to be forearmed against the delusion—as it most probably is a delusion in the given case. And the best prophylactic is the old one; a secret walk with God "in the light," and a recollection of the constant need of self-knowledge exactly where such knowledge is least pleasant. I repeat it; may the Lord grant us each and every one His true [Greek: gnothi seauton]. By a blessed paradox it is sure to prove the secret of a true self-oblivion; for it means for certain, among other things, a truer and fuller sight of HIM.

MATRIMONY OR CELIBACY?

The subject thus before us is a very large one. It connects itself with the whole question whether marriage or celibacy is the will of God in the man's ministerial life. Happily I have no need, in the Church of England, to defend "the holy estate of matrimony" as if it were in the slightest measure incompatible with the fullest sanctification of life and of ministry. Personally my belief is that, in the immense majority of cases, the married Clergyman is the more useful Clergyman if (an "if" of extreme importance) his wife is altogether one with him in the Lord. But I distinctly think that there are very many exceptions to the matrimonial rule. There are branches of ministerial work, particularly in parts of the sacred missionary field, where the single man seems to make the better Minister. And no true servant of God will allow himself to think first of an opening for marriage and then of an opening for ministry.

"ONE IN THE LORD."

Here I pause to say what it lies much on my heart to say somewhere. Let the true man, who is at present free in respect of marriage-engagements, resolve that in the whole question of seeking or not seeking a wife he will consider first, midst, and last his Master's work, his Master's Ministry. Better a thousand times be the most solitary of human beings than choose with your eyes open a married life in which you will not find positive help (not merely no positive hindrance) in your work for the Lord Jesus Christ. Beware of the temptation to seek the mere pretty face, or the mere fortune large or small, or mere accomplishments, or indeed anything short of the truly converted believing heart and dedicated will.

*MARRIED LIFE AS IT SHOULD BE.

The Clergyman and his Wife are sacredly bound to live their united life wholly for Christ. They are to help one another on in Him, to stimulate one another in work for others in Him, to give each other always mutual aid towards a constant growth in faith, hope, and love; towards an ever better use of means, and time, and tongue, and everything. If their Lord gives them children to train for Him, those children are to see their parents so living, not only individually but together, as to glorify and commend the Gospel to them, from the very first. And the wider family of the parish, sure to be observant, is to see the same sight in measure. Happy the married Pastor whose home and its life respond to such a description. Alas for the man whose passion, blindness, hurry, self-will, or whatever else it is, has betrayed him into a condition of things which cannot be so described.

I may be writing for some readers to whom such a "take heed unto thyself" may be in point even as they read. If so, let me seize the occasion. With not a few very sorrowful illustrations in my mind I lay all emphasis on this earnest word of affectionate warning. And let me add to it another word, as in duty bound, and with the utmost solemnity, knowing that the thing is vitally important. I appeal to you not lightly to seek marriage, not lightly to make engagement, even where you have good assurance that all would be spiritually well, if there is a real probability of a married life clogged with pecuniary perplexities.

You observe that I do not speak absolutely on this point; I dare not. I do not say, Do not do it; I say, Do not lightly do it. Faith is one thing; "light-heartedness" is another. And sometimes light-heartedness means nothing better than a vague expectation that "something will turn up." Perhaps what does turn up is a weary and distracting struggle with debt, and a gradual habituation to a not very creditable life upon the means of others, who very likely can spare only with difficulty what comes at length to be taken without gratitude. I beseech my Brother to "suffer the word of exhortation."

RISKS OF DEBT.

ii. I touch thus already on the second point about which I would fain cry, Take heed unto thyself. That matter is Money. A few words here will sufficiently convey my appeal, but those few must be pressing. I appeal to my younger Brethren to be watchful day by day in the matter of money. At this moment there rises in my memory the face and name of a Clergyman with whom, long years ago, I became acquainted about the time of his ordination. He was unquestionably in earnest; I believe that he truly knew his Lord and Master, and was truly desirous to serve Him in His flock. But I am perfectly sure that he must have forgotten, almost from the first, to take heed unto himself in the matter of money. [SN: PECUNIARY INTEMPERANCE.] Perhaps he had brought with him from the University that fatal habit of pecuniary intemperance which sometimes gets a hold upon a man second in its grasp only to that of intemperance commonly so called. Unhappily the ways of modern college life too easily generate such a habit, as University men are led more and more by their surroundings into a dread of appearing to be poor, and are almost expected to cost their fathers more for the academical year of eight or nine months than they will earn in the clerical year of twelve. But however it was, my poor dear friend had about him the tendency to debt. And not all his earnestness and his devoutness could maintain his influence when that tendency began to tell. One post of duty had to be soon quitted for another, and so again and again, under this ever-recurring failure. Let us take heed unto ourselves.

PUBLIC AND PRIVATE MONEY.

In dealing with money which in any sense is public, no care can be too great. In a case well known to me, a Clergyman imperilled his whole influence, to the verge of ruin, by the simple but effectual process of allowing money collected for a church-object to be mixed and "muddled" with his private funds. He was not business-like, and he was not at all well off. And somehow, when the time of reckoning came, the money had melted, he knew not whither. Strenuous exertions on the part of friends replaced privately the missing collection; but it was only just in time. I have often heard our Indian Missionaries say how great and frequent is the difficulty raised by the apparent incapacity of some otherwise excellent native Pastors to keep public and private money apart. They mean all that is honourable; but a friend comes in begging for a loan, and there is the church fund at hand, and of course the sum taken shall be soon repaid, and of course it is not repaid. But such difficulties are not confined to India. The native Pastors of England have great need to take heed unto themselves.

THE ACCOUNTS IN GOOD ORDER.

If possible, let us make our lay parochial friends our secretaries, and above all our treasurers. But if it must be otherwise, and often it must be, let us take heed, at any cost of pains. To do so may be overruled to win a positive influence for the Clergyman. I well remember a dear friend of mine telling me, with loyal pleasure, of his holy and devoted Vicar's care in this direction, and its power over the keen-sighted and not always friendly members of the school-committee in his great parish. Every item of the books was accurate; every halfpenny of receipts accounted for. Men could find no fault in that Clergyman save concerning the Law—and the Gospel—of his God.

INVESTMENT-CIRCULARS.

Perhaps I need only allude in passing to that crude sort of temptation put so freely before us Clergy, the circular advertisement of the mine which is to pay twenty per cent., or of the company just formed (I have such a circular in my possession, and keep it sacredly,) to promote the construction of a new projectile which shall make war more horrible than ever; one condition to the success of the Clergyman's investment being, of course, that war, thus made more horrible than ever, shall also be as frequent and continuous as possible. But the schemes announced in these circulars are very various in character; good, indifferent, and bad. Need I say that, as a very safe rule, they must all be viewed as bad from the point of view of the young Clergyman's (or indeed of the Clergyman's) purse? It is a truism to remark that high interest means low security; but even a truism can bear occasional repetition when it has to do with a good man's whole life and work, and when the oblivion may mean acute or chronic misery. Such investments are for us a form of gambling, almost as much so as the shameless circulars which we sometimes receive from foreign cities, announcing the possibility of clearing a fortune at one stroke by a turn of the lottery machine. Does the sending of such missives to the English Clergy mean that English Clergymen sometimes answer them? If so, I say that it is strictly impossible that the man who so answers, whether he loses or wins, can also be walking with God, and so working that the Lord works with him. So far as such acts go, he is acting an awfully untrue part, and his Master knows it. Let us take heed unto ourselves.

OTHER MONEY-PERILS.

In conclusion, I turn another way. The whole question of the increase and investment of money is a very solemn and searching one for the Christian, clerical or lay. There are holy men who say that we ought in no degree to "lay up." While I reverence their meaning, I do not agree with them. Yet I do most deeply feel that their warnings raise a danger-signal in a direction opposite to that which we have been viewing, but equally important. Some of my younger Brethren have already a private competency; others may be expecting one.

*"WHEN RICHES INCREASE."

To others, gifted in one way or another for marked acceptance in the Church, posts are, or will be, offered which even in these days bring a good income, perhaps a growing one. Take heed unto thyself. It is with deep significance that the Word of God bids us not set our heart upon riches when they increase. [Ps. lxii. 10.] It is often observed, I fear, that a man's readiness to give diminishes in proportion to his power for giving. There is a subtle fascination for many minds, and among them for minds generous at first, in an access of possessions; the thirst for more sets in, however imperceptibly, and perhaps the Christian, perhaps the Pastor, has become—before he knows it—covetous; caring a good deal for money. Let us take heed unto ourselves.[13]

[13] I cannot help relating a pathetically amusing remark I once heard in a Dorsetshire cottage. I had looked in on the good housewife in the course of a long walk, and she was telling me about the needs and straits of a recent time of illness. The aged Vicar of the large and thinly-peopled parish was a well-to-do man, and not at all unkind in meaning and manner. But he never gave alms, or indeed material help of any kind. "Poor Mr ——," said the cottager, with the kindliest naivete, "he never do give away anything. There, I suppose it be his affliction."

"LAY NOT UP FOR YOURSELVES."

I am sure that the Gospel has no censure for modest comforts and for simple refinements. I am sure that it bids the Christian, whether Pastor or not, "provide," look beforehand, with a view to save needless anxiety and disadvantage both for himself and yet more "for them of his own house." [1 Tim. v. 8.] But I am equally sure that it commands us even more emphatically not to lay up treasure upon earth; not to make the sad mistake of thinking that the work of life is to get. Rather may ours be the spirit of a noble-hearted friend of mine, now at rest for ever, early called away from heroic Missionary work. He had found himself rapidly getting richer in a successful school-enterprize; and recognized in this a summons to give it up, and volunteer for the foreign field.

But I say no more. Probably to the great majority of my readers these last paragraphs seem little to the purpose, at least at present. But there are few lives in which, sooner or later, such reflections may not find a corner for application.

THE MOTIVE.

Meanwhile, whether our call is to avoid debt or to avoid gathering, we will look up for new motive power into our Master's face. Him we love; Him we long to commend; and to Him we belong with all we have. In His Name, and for His sake, we will take heed unto ourselves.



CHAPTER VI.

THE DAILY WALK WITH OTHERS (iii.).

Thrice happy they who at Thy side, Thou Child of Nazareth, Have learnt to give their struggling pride Into Thy hands to death: If thus indeed we lay us low, Thou wilt exalt us o'er the foe; And let the exaltation be That we are lost in Thee.

Let me say a little on a subject which, like the last, is one of some delicacy and difficulty, though its problems are of a very different kind. It is, the relation between the Curate and his Incumbent; or more particularly, the Curate's position and conduct with regard to the Incumbent.

A LECTURE ON CURATES.

I need not explain that the legal aspect of this important matter is not in my view. Not long ago I listened, in the library of Ridley Hall, to an instructive lecture, by a diocesan Chancellor, on the law of Curates; one of a series on Church Law delivered under the sanction of the University. The Lecturer informed the audience, certainly he informed me, of many points of practical moment not clearly known to us before. He gave a sketch of the history of the licensed Curate as an institution, and made us aware that he is a modern institution, comparatively speaking. Before the Reformation the numerous host of "chantry-priests" was largely used to supplement the offices of the parochial Clergy. After the Reformation, for a very long while, the pastoral arrangements did not include a special institution of Assistants. Then, as the unhappy system of pluralities grew large and common, such as it was all through the eighteenth century and beyond it, "the Curate" meant not the active assistant of the resident Pastor but the substitute for the non-resident—the Curate-in-Charge. It was not till well within these last hundred years that men were commonly to be found doing what we now understand so well as Assistant-Curates' work. The presence in the Church of us Assistant-Curates (I hold a licence myself, and am therefore one of the company) is at once an effect and a sign both of the great increase of population and of the concurrent increase throughout the Church of England of the desire for fuller and more laborious ministrations.

A CHANCELLOR'S SUGGESTIONS.

So our able Lecturer led us through our own history; and then he proceeded to instruct us in some main elements of our legal qualifications, and duties, and rights: how to get into a Curacy, and how to get out of it; what are the Bishop's rights over the Curate, and how the Archbishop may interpose if the Curate pleads a grievance against the Bishop. But I trust that this and other Lectures of the same course may see the light some day in a better form than a rough and passing report of mine. My purpose in referring to them now is that I may call attention to one point on which the Lecturer laid no little stress. It was, that it is the wisdom of the Curate, when he has once deliberately accepted a Curacy, to be thoroughly loyal all along; to consider himself as "at the Vicar's beck and call"; to serve him heartily and unreservedly. If tempted to do otherwise, particularly if tempted to complain of the Vicar to the Bishop, let him resist that temptation to the utmost of his power. "There may be sad exceptions, and necessity knows no law; but as a rule," said my honoured friend, "I may assure you, from a large experience, that the Curate who complains of his Incumbent to his Bishop injures not the Incumbent but himself."

LOYALTY.

Our Lecturer avowedly spoke not as a spiritual but as a legal counsellor. I would now take up his words, and from the point of view of the friend and Brother in the Lord say a little to my younger Brethren, engaged or about to be engaged in assistant Curacies, concerning the Christian rightness and Christian wisdom of taking the sort of line which the diocesan Chancellor recommended.

THE IDEAL INCUMBENT.

As I come to the subject, let me say on the threshold that I am sure to be writing for many readers who little need the discourse, at least at present. You are working under a Vicar or a Rector whose example and also whose friendship is one of the greatest blessings of your life. You see in him a man perhaps much older than yourself, perhaps nearly your coeval, but however a leader, who is also, in the Lord Jesus Christ, your brother, and your most considerate while stimulating friend. He consults you, without forgetting his responsibility of ultimate direction. He gladly and fully recognizes and honours your work done under his organization. He has not the slightest wish to come between you and the affections of his parishioners among whom you move. He cultivates, in his busy life, Christian fellowship with you in private; you pray together, and talk together, not only about the parish but about the Lord, and the Word, and your own souls. He lets you find in him, as he is glad to find in you, just a man, a friend, a Christian, with trials and blessings of inner experience on which it is sometimes good to speak to one another; a living soul, companionable and human, while in it Christ dwells by faith. You have experienced with happy uniformity your Incumbent's patience, sympathy, fairness, trustworthiness. You have seen in him one who is himself always at work, always watching for the flock; who does not put on you this duty or that merely because it is irksome to himself, but whose whole purposes are in the cause of God, and who distributes labour in any and every interest but his own.

And perhaps you see this man honoured and loved by all around you, as they too see and know him to be what he is. You move about in the parish, and you are quite sure to hear allusions to the Vicar. And as a rule, perhaps, they are all friendly, all loyal, all grateful. You find yourself, in short, under no appreciable present temptation, being (as of course you are) a true man yourself, to do anything but identify yourself very gladly with him.

YET EVEN HE IS NOT PERFECT.

But then, even in this bright supposed case—a case of which the Church of England contains hundreds of practical examples, thank God—appreciable temptations in the other direction, the wrong, unhappy, fatal direction, may very conceivably creep upon you with time. Your admirable Incumbent is all the while a mortal man, and as such, most certainly (he himself above all men knows and owns it), he is not perfect, not quite equal to himself in every way. Perhaps he has come to be not perfect in physical health, and thus he is obliged, to his own grief, to do less in this or that branch of activity than some of his people think he ought to do; and then you are tolerably sure to hear some not very just and generous complaints in the parish. Perhaps domestic sorrow, or domestic straits and care, may have come in to becloud his spirit and to make his energies for a season flag. Perhaps among his many gifts you may find some gift a little lacking; he may be manifestly less strong in the committee, or in the labours of arrangement generally, than in the pulpit or the class; or it may be just the other way. And you, my dear friend, may be (or may think yourself to be) somewhat strong where he is somewhat weak; an opportunity for many subtle temptations. The days and weeks go on; and if you let "the little rift" of criticism widen, and do not continually take it to your Lord to be examined and mended, other feelings—not born from above—may steal in between you and this good man, your elder and leader in Christ. Petty dislikes and impatience may rise in your heart about some trifling point of manner, some momentary failure of sympathy, some oblivion of arrangement or engagement due to a sore stress of work, some very small matter of Church order, or Christian dialect; or who can tell what?

GRAVE POSSIBLE TEMPTATIONS TO DISLOYALTY.

But also it is just possible that I am writing for some reader who finds himself in more grave and pressing difficulties than these. My most honoured brethren the Incumbents, if any of them should cast their eyes over these chapters, written by a Curate mainly for Curates, will not blame me for saying that there are cases, sad and sorrowful, where the Curate cannot honestly think with perfect happiness of his leader's work and influence. Perhaps that Incumbent has "run well," nobly well, but (as it was of old with some primitive saints) something or someone "hindered him." [Gal. v. 7.] Perhaps he has lost first love and zeal, and sunk, he knows not how, into an indolent clericalism, or anticlericalism, of thought and habit. Perhaps he has suffered care, disappointment, parochial conflicts, to sour his spirit, or at least to take his heart away from his people. Perhaps he has felt the sad influence of controversial battles, and the love and richness of the old Gospel has somewhat faded out of his life, and conversation, and sermons; I do not refer to faithful care over distinctive and world-offending truth, but to the controversial spirit, which is altogether another thing. Perhaps he has somewhat lost command over temper; perhaps he has not yet found in our Lord's great fulness the open secret by which He supplies patience to His servants, even when they are sorely vexed by man. And just possibly difficulty between Curate and Vicar threatens to arise from some side-quarter; from those who stand around the Vicar, who inevitably see him often and intimately, who are active and important under-workers in his field, and who may themselves be not quite fully "governed by the Spirit and Word of God."

BEWARE OF THE GROWTH OF A CURATE'S PARTY.

I have put a good many supposed cases. How much I should rejoice if I could know that not one reader of this page could find any of my "peradventures" the least in point within his experience. But I must emphasize one of them which is hardly a peradventure at all; namely that the Curate is practically certain, sooner or later, to find temptations presented to his loyalty by the conversation of parishioners. There is not one parish in all England where everybody is pleased with the Incumbent; pleased always and about everything. And if the given Vicar or Rector employs a Curate, and if that Curate is you, it will be a moral miracle if you never hear of such discontents. You will hear of them, very probably, in ways which will offer you, however faintly, an opportunity of acting towards your chief a little as Absalom acted towards David when he expressed certain pious wishes that he were made judge in the land in his father's place. [2 Sam. xv. 1-6.] I do not for a moment mean that you are, or ever will be, a man of treacherous purposes; the Lord forbid. But if you do not watch, and are not in some measure forewarned, you may easily be betrayed unawares, quite unawares, into speech or into action which will practically be treacherous to the man who is over you in Christ, and so toward Christ's work and cause in the parish where you serve. Do you not know the possibilities to which I refer? Have they not crossed either your own path or that of some Curate-friend of yours? Is there no such thing as an intimacy formed by the Curate in some house where the Incumbent is not liked, and is that intimacy never used by the Curate not for the noblest ends? Is there no weak listening to parochial gossip on the Curate's part? Is there never any allowance by the younger man of a growth around him, in ways which he could stop summarily, if he tried, of a certain unwholesome sort of preference and popularity? Is it not sometimes known that a Curate condescends so low as to concur with criticisms or sarcasms on his chief, or even to volunteer them? Alas for the parish where there is a "Curate's party," small or more extensive. Happy the parish where no chance is given in that direction by either Incumbent or Curate. Happy the Curate who is so truly loyal and dutiful, it may be even under difficulties, that he makes it quite unmistakable that, if a party is to gather, it must gather around some one else.

HOW TO REPRESS IT.

Some cases happily in point are present to my own mind. I once knew of a parish in which the truly devoted Vicar was, however, not popular; he had sadly felt the weight of depression and disappointment, and this had had a weakening reflex influence on his ministry. He was joined by a Curate, a man in the prime of youth and vigour, well qualified to attract confidence and affection, and particularly gifted as a preacher. Very soon many parishioners showed a preference for the young man's ministrations in public, and for his company in private; it was a golden opportunity for the almost spontaneous formation of a Curate's party. By the grace of God, the young Clergyman was enabled both to see the position at once and, by most decisive and manly speech and act, in the right quarters, to show, without a chance of mistake, that he considered his work as altogether identical with his Vicar's, never to be carried on for an hour outside a faithful subordination. Another instance may be given. Some years ago it was my duty to explain at a meeting the objects and work of the Divinity Hall with which I am connected. Quite incidentally, while describing our course of teaching, I mentioned my earnest desire always to caution my student-friends against giving the slightest encouragement to the rise of Curates' parties.

*AN EXAMPLE.

At the close of the occasion, a Clergyman rose at the back of the parish-room where we met, and said a few words, as gladdening as they were unexpected. He had come to the meeting-place with no knowledge of the meeting; merely to keep an appointment. But he happened to be the Vicar of a large town parish, and there to have had a friend of mine as his Curate; and he told us how this same Curate had come to him at a time when the parish, under circumstances inherited from past years, was ripe and ready for partizanship and division. Nothing would have been needed but the Curate's passive allowance of such tendencies to embarrass and spoil the difficult work of the Vicar. But my dear young friend was "found in Christ"; he knew his Lord's will in the matter, and he strove to do it. By active discouragement he precluded the mischief completely, and thus greatly strengthened his leader's hands for the work of God before him.

"THE LOST GRACE, HUMILITY."

Surely few Christian men have wider and nobler opportunity than Curates have for the practice of "that lost grace, humility," in its form of unselfish dutifulness, "good fidelity in all things." [Tit. ii. 10.] My Brethren know the sort of humility I mean; no artificial mannerism, nothing in the least degree unworthy of the "adult in Christ." What I do mean is that thing so scarce in our days, the noble opposite to that individualistic spirit than which nothing is more narrow, more low, more hostile to all true, genial development and greatness. I mean the generous modesty which delights to recognize the claims of an elder, of a leader; which loves the idea of trustworthy service, taking as its motto a more than princely Ich Dien. I mean the temper of mind which sees the happiness of siding against ourselves, of judging not others but ourselves; the spirit which is much more anxious to vindicate a superior's reputation than our own, more alert to ward criticism off from him than to shield our own head from its arrow. I mean the life which shows that so far from being ashamed of the idea of subjection, the man has learnt at the feet of Jesus to think true service the truest freedom.

Another day, very probably, the Curate will find himself an Incumbent, and will have his own helping brother at his side. It will be a happy thing then for both parties if he has thoroughly learnt that great qualification for command, the experience of obedience; and has cultivated the exercise of sympathy with his subordinate by having first striven in honest loyalty to take his chief's part against himself.

TAKE PART AGAINST YOURSELF.

Few, very few, are the cases where a man who has accepted a Curacy with his eyes reasonably open finds that such is the friction of the position that his first duty is to seek a release. There are such cases, I am afraid. But, I say it again, they are very few; and in every case which looks as if it were one of them, the Curate should first exercise the severest scrutiny upon himself, trying honestly to find, in some magnifying mirror, "the beam in his own eye." [Matt. vii. 3.] And even where such scrutiny still leaves it plain, after consultation not only with sensible friends (if necessary) but of course with the Lord Himself, that it is best to seek a change, let it be remembered that, up to the very last day of connexion, the Curate is still the Curate, bound to all possible loyalty and good faith.

"SUFFER THE WORD."

It is with some misgivings of feeling that I have dwelt thus at length on difficulties and anxieties incident to the relationship of Curate and Incumbent. But I do not think after all that I shall be misunderstood. In the nature of the case, the bright sides of the matter have hardly needed comment. The Curate who finds himself the favoured and advantaged helper of some true-hearted leader needs little counsel from me, unless it be in face of the fact, on which we have touched, that the noblest leaders in the Lord in the whole English Church are not above parochial criticism, or even parochial slander. But I do know that there are Curates whose circumstances are less favourable; and I long to impress it upon them that few Christians have a larger and more fruitful field than they for the cultivation of some of the crowning graces of the Gospel. It is for them to make no common proof of the power of the Indwelling Lord to subdue the iniquities of His people, to hallow their inmost spirits, to set before their lips the watch and ward of His blessed Presence, to drive utterly away from their pastoral souls the wretched spirit of sarcasm, to enable them for an unselfish faithfulness when no eye but the unseen Master's oversees.

INDEPENDENCE AND LOYALTY.

It is no part of the system of the Church of England, as it is of that of the Church of Rome, to put a man (or a woman) under the "spiritual direction" of a fellow-sinner, who is to be, for the "directed," the organ and representative of the will of God. For such a method is no part of the apostolic Gospel, which never for a moment bids us surrender conscience into the keeping of another. "Who art thou that judgest Another's servant? To his own Master he standeth or falleth" [Rom. xiv. 4.]; words which deeply and decisively contradict the root-ideas of spiritual despotism, for they teach us to think of our fellow-Christians, as if—for purposes of the conscience—He who is their Master and ours was, for them, another Master than ours.[14] Yet the ideas of spiritual despotism are only the distortion or parody of ideas which are as true and sacred as the Gospel can make them; the ideas of self-abnegation for the good of others, and of resolute denial of the miserable spirit which prefers self to others and talks about rights when we should be intent on duties. The Christian man, and a fortiori the Minister of Christ, is called (as we have seen in earlier pages) to nothing less than a life in which, while conscience is inviolable, self is surrendered to Christ, in that practical sense of the words which means surrender, for His sake, to others, in all things which concern not right and wrong but our self-will.

[14] I owe this remark to my friend the Rev. H.E. Brooke.

"CLOTHED WITH HUMILITY."

"Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder." [1 Pet. v. 5.] I never forget how the Apostle finishes the passage; "Yea, all of you, be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility," [Greek: egkoubosasthe ten tapeinophosynen], "tie humility round you" as the servant ties on his apron. Most characteristic of the Bible is the impartiality of the precept, so given; the Elders in the Church of God will not forget it on their side. But nevertheless the stress of the precept bears upon the younger man. He, in the Lord's order, is especially to recollect the sacred duty of a willing, loyal, and open-eyed humility.

A NOBLE SUBORDINATION.

All the instincts of our time are against this. But for the true disciple of Jesus Christ there is something stronger than any spirit of the age; it is the Spirit of God, dwelling in the inmost soul. By that wonderful power the Christian Curate, who walks with the Lord in secret, and finds in Him his way of purity and consistency in the more general aspects of his "walk with others," will daily be enabled for a bright and glad consistency in the path of ministerial subordination. He will not cease to be a man, who must observe and think; nor will he necessarily hold it his duty never, in all loyalty and respect, to express to his Vicar a differing wish or opinion. But his bias will be against himself, and for his chief, if he indeed lets the Spirit of God lead him, and rule him, and fill him. For the Lord's sake, [Greek: dia tou Kyrion], and by the Lord's power, [Greek: dia tou Kyriou], he will carry the principle of a watchful "submission" not only into greater things, but even into the smaller preferences of his elder and leader, if they in the least degree affect the duties of the parish and the church.

A LETTER ON CURATES' GRIEVANCES.

I close this chapter with a quotation. It is a letter written to the Editor of the Record, in the spring of 1885, after the perusal of a correspondence in that paper in which some "grievances of Evangelical Curates" had been set forth, and in which it had been implied that such grievances might give some sufferers occasion to transfer their sympathies to another "school."

"After reading the recent correspondence, I cannot forbear a few words expressive of the sad impression left upon my mind. Far be it from me to say that Incumbents have no lessons to learn from this correspondence. All Incumbents who have, by grace, 'the mind that was in Christ Jesus' will surely embrace every suggestion, however painful in form, which can stimulate them to larger manifestations of holy and self-forgetting sympathy, perfectly compatible with the firm attitude (which is also their duty) of responsible direction. But this thought leaves unaltered the mournful impression taken from the tone of the letters of my aggrieved Brethren. In one form or another one thought seemed to breathe in all;—the thought of my rights, my position, my gifts and opportunities, and what was due from others in regard of them; the complaint that others were not humble, when the Christian's first concern with humility is to derive it for himself from his Lord. Such a spirit is not easily compatible with a true secret hourly walk with God and abiding in Christ, the sine qua non of fruit-bearing. And fruit-bearing is the supreme inner aim of the true pastoral life, fruit-bearing in the devoted doing of the Master's present will.

"In one letter I read with pain that 'it is no marvel' if men who cannot secure justice and happiness in one party should transfer their allegiance to another. Is it indeed 'no marvel'? Is it to be expected, then, in the holy Ministry, that convictions about divine truth should be modified by the personal claims and comfort of the holder, if the word 'hold' may be used without severe irony in such a connexion? Can a saint and servant of God, young or old, Vicar or Curate, walk closely with Him all day, truly given to Him, wholly submissive to His word and will, and yet find it possible to deal with convictions so? What are personal rights and exterior happiness weighed against the claims of what we have really grasped as truth in the presence of the Lord? It is well for us that martyrs and confessors, and their worthy successors, our Evangelical ancestors of a century ago, knew how to answer that question.

CONVICTION SACRED, SELF NOWHERE.

"I aim to speak with all humility and sympathy. But I cannot but thus earnestly express the unalterable conviction that the only ministerial life which can be 'sanctified and meet for the Master's use' is the life in which conviction is sacred, in which Christ is all, and in which self is nowhere."



CHAPTER VII.

PASTOR IN PARISH (i.).

Master, to the flock I speed, In Thy presence, in Thy name; Show me how to guide, to feed, How aright to cheer and blame; With me knock at every door; Enter with me, I implore.

We have talked together about the young Clergyman's secret life, and private life, and his life in (so to speak) non-clerical intercourse with others, and now lastly of his life as it stands related to his immediate leader in the Ministry. In this latter topic we have already touched the great matter which comes now at once before us, the man's work amongst his neighbours as he approaches them in his proper character, as a Pastor.

"THE PULSE OF THE MACHINE."

How shall I speak of "parish-work"? It would be a boundless subject if treated in detail and in the style of a directory of methods. But such a treatment is far from my purpose. To undertake it, I should not only need to be a widely experienced Pastor, which I cannot claim to be, for my life for many years has been mainly devoted to academic teaching; I should need to be several widely experienced Pastors bound up into one living volume. So let no one expect to find here a prescription for the right plans and right practice of the many departments of the rural pastorate, or of the urban, or suburban; directions how to organize work, and how to develop it; how to deal with the Sunday School, or the Day School, or the Institute, or the Guild, or the Visitors' Meeting, or the Missionary Association. My hope is rather to get behind all these things to the pulse of the busy machinery; to offer a few hints to my younger Brethren "how to do it," from the point of view of their personal and inner preparedness for the multifold work, and to state some plain general principles which may run through all the doing.

VISITING.

I set before me then the Curate, and the Parish, with its demands for pastoral labour, and particularly for Visitation. Well do I know how immense the differences are between place and place in this same matter of visitation; how the parish of a few hundreds, or even of two or three thousand, is one thing, and the parish of ten, or eighteen, or twenty thousand is another. I know that there are parishes, in London for example, where all the efforts of a staff of devoted Clergy seem to fail to do more than touch the edges of the work of domestic visitation. Yet surely even in such cases that work must not, and will not, be quite given up as hopeless. A little, where only a little is possible, is vastly better than none; even if it be only the visitation of the sick, and of those who immediately surround them, and with whom the sick-visit gives the Clergyman an opportunity. Such efforts, where nothing more of the kind is possible, if only done in an unmistakable spirit of love and self-sacrifice, must carry good to the people. And do not forget that they must, quite as necessarily, carry good to the Clergyman. For they are a means, for which nothing else can be quite the substitute, of bringing him into contact with the people's thoughts and lives in ways which will tell usefully (as we have seen in an earlier page) upon his whole ministry, particularly upon his work in the pulpit, and at the mission-room desk, and in the open air.

But, to be as practical as possible, I will assume that the Curacy is of a more normal kind than that just supposed. The parish, whether in country or in town, is not so large as to make visitation from house to house impossible. And the Curate has had his work of this kind assigned him, and is setting out upon it. A good portion of every day (though I hope it is possible to give a part of one day each week to some sort of wisely managed holiday) is devoted to "the district"; now for a steady round of calls, door by door; now, in an irregularity not without method, for visits to special cases of sickness, or sorrow, or other need.

PREPARE FOR VISITATION WITH PRAYER.

What shall be my first suggestion? It shall point to the Throne of Grace. Preface the pastoral round with special secret prayer. Sermons are usually (I wish it were always so now) prefaced with prayer in the pulpit that the heavenly blessing may rest upon the ordinance. Is it less fitting, less necessary, to prepare for the afternoon's or evening's visitation with a secret petition in your own room that the apostolic ordinance of domestic visitation [Acts xx. 20, 21.], to be administered now by you, may have the special grace of God in it? Pray for yourself, my younger Brother.

*PRAY FOR SPIRITUAL READINESS AND SPIRITUAL FULNESS.

Ask that you may go out well furnished with the peace, and patience, and wisdom laid up for you in your Lord; that you may have "by the Holy Spirit a right judgment in all things"; that you may have "the tongue of the taught,[15] to speak a word in season to them that are weary"; whatever sort of weariness it is. Pray for that secret skill of discernment which can see the difference of spiritual states, and allot warning or comfort not at random but "in due season." Pray for that readiness for the unexpected which is best secured and best maintained in a close and conscious intimacy with your Saviour. The man "found in Him" will be found ready in spirit (and that is after all the essential in spiritual work) for the sudden question, whether anxious or captious, for the sudden rudeness of ignorance or opposition, and again for the chronic and so to speak passive difficulty of indifference. "The tongue of the taught," while the "taught" man is found in Christ, will ever be sweet, wise, and truthful, as the owner of it goes his round. But we must seek for it; "He will be enquired of for this thing." [SN: Ezek. xxxvi. 37.]

[15] Isai. l. 4. Obviously the word "learned" in our Version is there used in its old English sense, "instructed, taught." No slight on "book-learning" is ever conveyed in the Scriptures. But the man in view here is not the highly-educated person, but the believer who has listened with the ear "of the taught" (see the end of the verse), as a disciple at the Master's feet; and so goes forth to speak with "the tongue of the taught," as a messenger who has learned sympathy, insight, holy tact and truthfulness, from the Master's heart. The whole passage is full of the blessed Messiah Himself, I know. But it has its reflected reference for all His true followers, and above all for all His true Ministers. May He give us, in His mercy, for every act of our messenger-work, both the ear and the tongue of His "taught" ones.

Then, as you pray for yourself, you will pray also for the people you are about to visit. Perhaps they are as yet strange to you, and you can ask for them only in general. But if you know anything at all about them it will be worth while to individualize your prayer, however briefly. Special, detailed prayer is a power with God. And it is a power with man too. To be dealing with one for whom you know you have prayed is already to have a foothold there. Perhaps you may have an opportunity to say, quite naturally, that you have been praying for him; and this may very possibly be a direct vehicle of blessing.

You will go out then, as directly as possible, from the secret place of heavenly intercourse. That is a bracing atmosphere:

"Fresh airs and heavenly odours breathe around The throne of grace;"

and those airs can quicken the young Pastor's spirit for the heaviest hours of a sultry afternoon or evening, till he comes back weary to his rooms, "tired in the Lord's work, but not tired of it," as dying Whitefield said.

So you go forth with real prayer. It is your wonderful privilege, thus going to carry nothing less than the blessed "Fulness of the Holy Ghost" for your inmost equipment. I say deliberately, nothing less than the heavenly Fulness—a far different thing from a mere stir and lift of the emotions. That most divine gift is a "calm excess" of tranquil power, received humbly by the prayer of faith. It is not meant to be a rare luxury; it is a daily and hourly offer, a provided viaticum for every stage of walk and duty. Can we work aright for God while any corner of our being has no room for God, and is not possessed by Him?

METHOD.

Then, for true prayer and true practicality are the closest and most harmonious friends, you will of course aim with forethought and persistency at method in the pastoral work. The visits will be arranged as far as possible with economy of space; no difficult task in most town parishes, while in the country, of course, the matter is often much less easy. And you will study also economy of time. Your round is a work of sacred business. The minutes, the quarters of an hour, are never to run loose and unobserved. Who that has ever visited in a parish does not know the need of remembering that point, so easily forgotten? Here we visit a pleasant, welcoming neighbour, and it is all too easy to stay on, perhaps to little real purpose, with the secret satisfaction of knowing that the next and much less attractive call must be shortened in proportion. Here, less willingly, we are detained by one of those ingenious tongues which make it so difficult to get in a word, or to stop the unprofitable continuity of topics. All these cases, and endless kindred ones, need a little foresight and firmness, and a little of the skill which is soon learnt by open heart and open eyes.

ECONOMY OF TIME.

Obviously this line of caution is more needed by some men than by others. But it is needed by not a few; particularly in respect of the temptation to lengthen out unduly the visits that are pleasant to the visitor. One young Clergyman known to me, an indefatigable and devoted visitor, needed a strong reminder in this direction in the early days of his ministry. He would visit a sick person, who proved more or less responsive to his efforts, and would allow himself to over-visit, to an unwise extent, going often more than once a day, and long after the state of the invalid made such attentions urgent. And other work of course suffered in proportion. Wesley's precept to his workers needs our remembrance often; "Go not where you are wanted, but where you are wanted most."

BUT AVOID HURRY.

But a risk on the other hand must be remembered. Economy of time must never mean hurry of manner, a thing which is nearly if not quite fatal to the usefulness of a visit. It is perfectly possible to combine promptitude with quiet; to come manifestly on business, and yet not in a bustle. We Clergymen may learn many valuable lessons in this, as in some other parts of our work, from our medical friends. Observe how a wise and kindly doctor visits his parishioners. He knows exactly why he comes; he knows that other patients are wanting him, in long succession; he knows that he must observe and advise as promptly and as much to the point as possible; and he knows that all must be done with a quiet, strong, untroubled manner, if it is to be done aright.

I spoke in a previous chapter about the sacred duty of watching and regulating manner. This is to be done at all times of intercourse, but above all in pastoral visits. To speak only of this point of hurry or calm of manner; it is most important. The right manner will make a visit of five minutes practically longer than a twenty minutes' visit which gives all through it the impression that the Clergyman must be off. One of the most admirable Pastors I have ever known, the late Rev. Charles Clayton, of Cambridge,[16] did much of his work by five-minute visits. But they were always visits in which the whole thought was given to the case before him, and the word in season came from full knowledge of his flock and from an unmistakably pastoral heart.

[16] Afterwards Rector of Stanhope and Canon of Ripon.

IMPARTIAL COURTESY.

A duty which you will carefully remember throughout your round is that of quiet Christian courtesy; impartially shown to rich, to middling, and to poor. I say impartially, with a view to both ends of the scale. Some men (perhaps not many, but some) seem to think that ministerial courage and fidelity in dealing with well-to-do parishioners demand a certain dropping of the courtesies of life; a very great mistake. Many more men are tempted to forget that their visits to the poorest should be, in the essence of the matter, as courteous as when they go to the portal which carries a brass knocker. At the door of the dingiest cottage, or dingier lodging, never forget that you ask for entrance; it is your neighbour's castle-door; and you are not a sanitary inspector. If you happen to come in at the meal-time of the roughest and dirtiest, apologize as naturally and honestly as you would if you intruded on the wealthy churchwarden's well-set luncheon. Among the very lowest, do all you can to honour parents before their children (I know it is nearly impossible in some sad cases); and always honour old age.

BE NATURAL.

Surely one good maxim on manner with our poorer neighbours is to aim to address them very much as we would address our neighbours of our own class. A patronizing manner is most certainly a very great pity, and almost sure to be resented. But so, too, is the ostentatious "hail-and-well-met" manner which is sometimes assumed; an over-drawn imitation, perhaps, of the workman's manner with his fellows. This is a mistake, because it is almost always unnatural. Few gentlemen get better at others by ceasing to act and speak as gentlemen. Let us talk quite quietly and pleasantly, as just what we are, and as those who most unaffectedly "honour all men," [1 Pet. ii. 17.] and we shall not go far astray; always supposing that the matter of our talk is sensible, true, and to the purpose.

THE SICK-ROOM.

To turn aside for a moment to the special and sacred work of Visitation of the Sick. It is not to be lightly done, as if it were an easy part of our duty, quite obvious in its aims and methods. The greatest judgment is often needed in the sick-room. We need quickness to perceive how much conversation the invalid can bear, if the case is one of great pain, or (what often makes undue length even more irksome) great weakness. We need an insight into the best side of approach to conscience, or to will. We need the skill which knows how to question enough, but not too much, not as the inquisitor but as the helper. Many another matter will call for sanctified common-sense in the sick-room; a restful voice, easy, quiet movements, and the like. And let me say that where you are visiting a chronic case, and need to call again and again, if a day and hour for the next visit is mentioned it should be kept to with jealous punctuality. Nothing is more trying to the suffering and weary than uncertainty and suspense. I have known of much harm done to good men's influence by their neglect of punctuality with sick people.

PUNCTUALITY.

Of punctuality generally I can (and surely need) speak only in passing. It is a primary duty of the busy but patient work of the pastorate. To be neglectful of it is to set up and keep up a needless and mischievous friction in our intercourse with others, and indefinitely to injure our influence in many ways. "No man ever waited five minutes for me in my life, unless for reasons quite beyond my power;" such was a remark of Charles Simeon's in his last days. We may be for ever unable to say this of our own past. But if so, shall it not be true for us also from this day forward?

USE OF THE BIBLE IN VISITING.

Thus prepared by secret and special intercourse with God, and recollecting some simple maxims about practical points, you go out into the parish. But no; let me suggest one other preliminary, which, before most rounds of pastoral visiting, cannot be out of place. You will take in your pocket two books, if not more; one, your visiting register and diary, the other—your Bible. Of the use to be made of the note-book I need not speak. About that to be made of the Book of God let me say a very few words.

I do not mean at all that you will make the reading of the Holy Scriptures a matter of form or routine; a thing which must be done, as an opus operandum, wherever there is a chance. But I do mean that you should have the Book always ready for use, and be prompt to sow the "incorruptible seed" [1 Pet. i. 23.] from house to house as God gives opportunity. Remember, it is a Book sadly little known by the very large majority of your people; so that every natural and naturally-taken occasion to "let it speak," in private as well as in public, is a contribution to that urgent need of our modern world, Bible-knowledge. Remember again that, despite all the wretched unsettlements of belief amongst us, the Bible is still the Bible, for untold multitudes; it is owned by them, whether or no it is used, as the Oracle of God. Let us let the Book speak at the open ear of such a conviction, however dimly the conviction is entertained. And then remember that the Bible, whatever be the state of current opinion about it, is as a fact the Oracle of God, and its immortal and life-conveying words have a mysterious fitness all their own to be the vehicle of the Spirit's voice to the human heart. Offer it, as often as you can, to be that vehicle.

CHOOSE A PASSAGE BEFOREHAND.

Two simple expedients for effective use of the Scriptures in a parish round are presented to me by my own past experience, gathered from several years of regular parochial work. One is, the choice of some short pregnant passage which shall be, for that round, the passage to be read not once only but in house after house, unless, of course, there is special reason to the contrary. Such a reiteration, so I have often found, is a great help to the visitor, who probably feels on each new occasion that a new power and point appear in the passage, and that it seems each time easier to speak from it, however briefly, to the soul. The other expedient which my experience recommends is to be prepared, whenever a hopeful opportunity occurs, to leave a Scripture message visibly behind you as you go. I used to carry with me a little sheaf of slips of paper, on each of which was printed the request, Please read this passage, and think about it. A short message from the heavenly Word would be written on the slip in pencil as I was about to go; and this visible and personal invitation to "read and think" proved often a real remembrance from the Lord.

THE VISITING PASTOR AT WORK.

But now you are actively engaged from door to door. If you are a new-comer, and particularly if it is also a district (in the great City perhaps) where visitation has been an unwonted thing, you must be prepared of course for very various sorts of reception. But assuredly in most districts by far, and at most doors, the man who exercises common tact and courtesy, and is plainly trying to do his duty in a loving and earnest spirit, and is known already, or now introduces himself, as the Clergyman, will be civilly and often gladly met.

*OUR ADVANTAGE AS MINISTERS OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH.

Let me pause for a moment to remind you of one great and valuable advantage which is ours as the Ministers of the National Church and the servants of the parochial system. All honour to devoted servants of God in the Ministry of other denominations; in numberless instances they have done in the past, and are doing now, work which the National Church has either neglected, or has been unable to overtake; and the power of the Lord has been and is present with them to bless. But nevertheless I for one thank God for a National Church, and recognize in that Church's historical and practical position a unique opportunity and an immense advantage, so it be used faithfully and in loyalty to the Lord and His Word. And one feature of that position of opportunity is this, that it is the popularly (and rightly) recognized duty of the Church of England Clergyman to ask admission at every door, so far as he can go to every door, within his portion of the national vineyard. To a large degree this is understood to be our duty, our business, as it is not understood to be that of other Ministers of religion; and this is a fact which for the man who will use it with good sense and unobtrusive diligence is an invaluable introduction. A "younger Brother" of my own, whose work began in a Liverpool Curacy, told me of his experience in this matter. His district contained a very miscellaneous population; almost all the great dissenting Churches were represented, and there were many Roman Catholics, and not a few Jews. But the Curate went to every door, as in duty bound; as a friend, a neighbour, a Christian, but distinctly as one of the Clergy of the parish. And with one solitary exception, an instance in which a Jew repulsed him, he was not only admitted but welcomed everywhere in his character as the Clergyman.

Of course there are, as I have said just above, streets and lanes where it is not quite so. Another friend of mine, labouring in East London, found that his black coat and white tie suggested to some of the people only the guess that he was—the undertaker; so strange to them was the presence of a Clergyman, or the idea of his duty. The same friend, by the way, found that there was one sure prescription for securing a welcome on a second visit—to make the people laugh before the first visit was over. He was no careless Pastor, who forgot that he was in quest of souls, and that the message of the Lord is no jest. But his experience was that in that strange "lapsed" population the rapport between man and man set up by an honest laugh was important as the first step to something very different which was to follow.

COME TO THE POINT.

In the ordinary pastoral round no such ingenious merriment will be necessary; though you will of course aim not only to be but to be seen to be happy in your work, and in your Master; bright with a light which is as natural in its influence as it is divine in its origin. In the ordinary round one great principle to be remembered, if I am right, is that you should come to the point as soon as possible. Some earnest men greatly shrink from this, and aim at the souls of their people by very circuitous routes. As a rule, I am sure, there is little need to do so; we are "expected" to be about our Master's business, and to deliver His messages without needless delay. I would not counsel the general verbal adoption of one good country Parson's salutation, who always opened the cottage door with, "How are you? How is your soul?" But I have no doubt it was a good greeting for many a parishioner of his; and the principle of it is good for almost every pastoral visit. Yes, we shall do well to take people very much for granted, coming before them as we do (unless we quite forget our true character) as the Lord Jesus Christ's messengers and delegates, whatever else we are.

KEEP IT ALWAYS IN VIEW.

Most certainly and obviously the Pastor will often allude to common human interests, and should indeed know something and have something to say and do about temporal problems, things of body and estate. But then I do hold that he should "draw all things this" supremely important "way." All his pastoral intercourse should bear somehow upon the question of the state before God of the person or persons visited; upon conviction of sin, or comfort in grace, or Christian conduct; upon Christ and the soul, upon holiness and immortality, as the Gospel "brings them out into the light." [2 Tim. i. 10.]

A DIFFICULT CASE WELL MET.

There are cases most certainly where this has to be done with peculiar tact and caution unless quite obvious mischief is to be done instead of good. But let the man be always lying in wait, and he will very seldom do so quite in vain. An instance occurs to me, in the work of a most honoured veteran in the Ministry. He called on a new parishioner, a lady of his own class, and soon found out that she was politely but resolutely arranging to keep Jesus Christ out of the conversation; so cleverly that he fairly failed to break the fence. Just as he was leaving, for he could not go without one mention of his Master, he said, as the last word of his courteous farewell, "The Lord bless you." That was all; but it was enough to carry in it the Spirit's message. The utterance stayed in the parishioner's soul, sounding solemnly on. It was impossible to be offended; it was impossible not to think. And the issue was, in God's time, a real and deep conversion.

A HAPPY REBUKE TO COWARDICE.

But, I repeat it, such difficulties in "the daily round" need not be very frequent, if we do not create them for ourselves. How often the very persons to whom we think it wiser not to speak openly about the Lord Jesus Christ (remember, it is about HIM, even more than about themselves, we are to speak) are longing to hear us do so! In the early days of my ordination I remember visiting an invalid gentleman, who had known me (for it was my Father's parish) all my life; and I was very cowardly in his case about coming to the point of Christ and the soul. Several visits, let me confess it with shame, were paid before I found myself able to propose that we should open the Bible together, and then pray. I was moved to the inmost heart by the actual tears of delight with which the proposal was welcomed.

And not seldom, if we do not come to the point, our people will bring us to it. A very dear friend of mine, a few years ago, was going his first circuits in a large London parish, and paid one among many first visits. He allowed it to be a mere visit of introductory civilities; but he need not have been so cautious. As he rose to go the good woman on whom he had called said to him, "You will have a word of prayer with me, will you not? The Vicar always does."

"Go, labour on, spend and be spent; Thy joy to do the Father's will; It is the way the Master went; Should not the servant tread it still?

"Go, labour on while it is day, The world's dark night is hastening on; Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away; It is not thus that souls are won."

BONAR.



CHAPTER VIII.

PASTOR IN PARISH (ii.).

Work on in hope; the plough, the sickle wield; Thy Master is the harvest's Master too; He gives the golden seed, He owns the field, And does Himself what His true servants do.

I take up again the all-important subject of Pastoral Visitation, for the same sort of informal and fragmentary treatment as that attempted in the last chapter, and with the same feeling that the subject is practically inexhaustible.

LET THE VISITOR BE A TEACHER, WATCHING FOR OPPORTUNITIES.

One object which the visitor will do well to keep steadily before him is, to be a teacher as he goes. I have said something of this already, in recommending my Brethren to seize every good occasion for bringing in the Bible, and words about the Bible. But the whole work of instruction needs remembrance in our private intercourse with parishioners. Of course we shall avoid with watchful and willing care the magisterial manner, the too didactic tone. And only when obvious occasions present themselves shall we even seem to set ourselves to teach; as when we are distinctly asked what is the meaning of this doctrine, or that passage of Scripture, or that phrase of the Prayer Book, or how to meet that difficulty of belief. Such moments do come; in some pastoral lives they come frequently; and whether the inquiry is made in a friendly spirit, with a real wish for information, or whether, as sometimes, it is the question of a critic or a caviller, it is an opportunity for which, in the Lord's grace, we should stand quite ready. To be sure we may have sometimes to remember that sensible precept of the Rabbis, "Teach thy tongue to say, I do not know"; the answer, often, of the truest and deepest-sighted wisdom. But even when answering so, instruction may be given, as we state the reasons for the answer. And we shall at least have the opportunity while so doing to bring in that other maxim, which we owe, I think, to the late Archbishop Whately, "Never allow what you do know to be disturbed by what you do not know"; a principle of very wide application.

But I am thinking now rather of the every-day sort of pastoral call and conversation, in which perhaps the parishioner visited may be anything but a caviller, and anything but even a questioner; much too ready, perhaps, to take everything about Christian truths for granted, which, alas, means too often to take them as understood, to take them as believed, when there is little understanding of the matter, or even thought about it. Now it is a great thing when a pastoral visitor has the art (which needs to be considered, and to be acquired) of putting here and there into a quiet and friendly talk, best of all towards the close, some sentence which sets out a great truth clearly, strongly, and in a shape which may wake attention and help remembrance. That is the kind of didactic work which I earnestly recommend.

*THE PASTORAL TEACHER'S TOPICS.

If possible, let no visit close without some such utterance, if only one. It may be about the very foundations of all Christian truth; about the certainty of Christian facts, the Resurrection above all; about the Person of the Lord Jesus; about His finished work of Atonement; about faith, and our acceptance as believers in Him, and our victory and deliverance in temptation by the power of the Holy Ghost through faith; about sin, its true nature, its guilt, its end. Or it may be about the holy practicalities of Christian conduct; about the Lord's call to us to break with everything that is against His will; about that deep, far-reaching truth of the Gospel that, while the sinner is saved by faith only, he is saved on purpose that he may serve, on purpose that he may "walk and please God," [1 Thess. iv. 1.] and that he may do this above all in "the duty that lies near," in the plain things of the home, the business, the handicraft, the social circle. Or it may be about the mighty claims of the Missionary cause, about the strangely forgotten fact that the Christian Church exists mainly in order to evangelize the non-Christian world. Or it may be about the principles and duties of Church membership and Christian ordinances; the true nature of worship; the sacred duty of united worship; the call to hallow the Lord's Day; the precious benefits of the Sacraments of Christ, explained with the holy reverence and equally holy simplicity and moderation of the Catechism and the Articles.

NEED FOR SUCH WORK.

I need not fill my pages with numberless details. For my plea is that we should rather hold ourselves ready for the natural rise of such or such topics, and for a clear instructive word in season upon them, than that we should propose a theme and deliver a discourse. But I cannot too earnestly remind my Brethren how great the need of instruction is among many of our kindly neighbours, even among our neighbours who go regularly to Church and are constantly to be seen at the Table of the Lord.

CHRIST "A BLESSED ANGEL."

Let me take one pre-eminent subject as my illustration: the foundation-truth of the Godhead of our Blessed Redeemer. Are you at all aware how widely spread is ignorance and error on that subject, far beyond the limits of the "Unitarian"[17] community? I remember a pastoral visit long ago to a slowly dying parishioner, a labouring man somewhat stricken in years, who had been a church-goer, though not a communicant. I soon fell into a conversation with my friend which took a sort of catechetical shape; my aim was to see where the soul's hopes for eternity really rested. Who and What was JESUS, whose name I know he humbly reverenced? Was He a good Man? Yes. But anything more? There was a long hesitation, and then the dear man expressed a faltering persuasion that the Lord could not be less than "a blessed angel." That case, I am well convinced, is very much more representative than some of us may think. At a recent Church Congress I heard some remarks in just this direction from Bishop Walsham How, who speaks from a large pastoral experience; his anxiety about the immense extent of popular ignorance or misbelief about the Saviour's Person was at least as great as mine.

[17] A term which I use under protest. If a Unitarian means a believer in the Unity of the Godhead, every orthodox Christian is a true Unitarian. Only, he is a Trinitarian also, from another side. I may venture to refer on this subject to a small book of my own, Outlines of Christian Doctrine, p. 20.

"ALL MY SUFFERMENT HERE."

And so too is ignorance and misbelief about the work of His Cross, and of His Holy Spirit. "I hope I shall have all my sufferment here," said one poor invalid to me in old days, speaking indeed from a very comfortless bed, in the slow pains of a dire disease. She had been long within sound of clear, bright Christian teaching. But deep in the soul, unmoved and ah, so difficult to dislodge, lay that notion of an atoning value in our own pains which is a radical contradiction to the glorious paradox of the perfect and unique work of Calvary:—

"Thy pains, not mine, O Christ, Upon the shameful tree Have paid the law's full price, And purchased peace for me.

"Thy Cross, not mine, O Christ, Has borne the awful load Of sins that none in heaven Or earth could bear but God."[18]

[18] Bonar, Hymns of Faith and Hope (First Series).

THE TRUTH OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.

As regards the Person and the Work of the blessed Spirit, great and general is the oblivion, and manifold are the mistakes. I fear that even in the best instructed congregations, under the clearest public teaching, there are all too many who, practically, "have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost." [Acts xix. 2.] The belief in His glorious Personality is faint and vague. The confusion of His Presence and Power with our "better feelings" is very, very common. The solemn questions which the Scripture bids us put to ourselves, [Rom. viii. 9.] whether or not we "have the Spirit of Christ"—not merely "a Christian spirit" in the sense of tone and temper, but the Holy Ghost, proceeding from the Son, and uniting the true believer to Him—are little understood, and rarely used upon the man by himself. And the very thought of such a presence and such a power of the Lord the Life-Giver as shall "fill us with the Spirit" [Eph. v. 18.] is not yet existent, I fear, in the minds of many even earnest Christians.

Here are fields, large and fruitful, for the teaching visitor's cultivation. And so are the other possible subjects indicated above; such as the claims of the Lord upon our personal consistency in little things; His solemn call to all His people to be, directly or indirectly, the evangelists of the world; and the nature of His blessed sacramental Institutions.

THE TRUTH OF THE SACRAMENTS.

On that last subject it is not my intention to enter at any length. But a few words I may take this occasion to say, and I will assume that I am speaking to a younger Brother who in the main agrees with me in what are commonly called Evangelical Church principles. Let me first then counsel you to take care that no one shall be able, lawfully, to charge you with making light of the Sacraments,[19] or with leaving uncertain your belief as to their divine purpose and function. A ministry which is silent about them, and indistinct in its teaching on them, cannot in this respect be fully true to either the Prayer Book or the Bible. Let your instructions on this great subject, in public and in private, be definite, reverent, and full of thankfulness and praise for those great gifts of God. Then on the other hand, do not, if I may speak freely, while with all respect, think to honour the Sacraments by exaggeration, by speaking more of them than of that far greater thing, the blessed Grace of God in Christ, of which they are the "sure witnesses and effectual signs."[20] If I do not mistake, one of the most prevalent tendencies of current thought in the Church now is the tendency to invert, in a certain way, the relations between Sacrament and Grace; to develop a doctrine of the Sacrament such that the doctrine of Grace can be seen only, as it were, through it. And the result is, very often, so at least it seems to me to be, a very poor and attenuated presentation of the glorious things said in Scripture about "the grace of God which bringeth salvation," [Tit. ii. 11.] and about the work of pure and simple, but mysteriously mighty, faith in our appropriation of Christ's merits and our reception of Christ's living power by the Holy Ghost. Let no such inversion mark your teaching. And if I may give one further suggestion, I would say, remind yourself frequently of the very words of the Prayer Book (including the Catechism) and the Articles on these great subjects. And inform yourself to some extent, at first hand, of the views of the men who cast our Services and our Articles into their practically present shape; the views of Cranmer, of Ridley, of Jewell, and, just after them, of Hooker; not forgetting one great foreign theologian, Henry Bullinger, who exercised a special influence on the English divines of Edward and Elizabeth's time in the matter of sacramental doctrine.[21] You will find in him a full measure of holy reverence, and at the same time a luminous clearness and definiteness of exposition. The central idea of his teaching is the idea of the Covenant Seal, the "instrument" of solemn, valid, legal "conveyance."

[19] I mean of course Baptism and the Supper of the Lord, which alone the Church of England recognizes as Christian Sacraments, Sacramenta Evangelica, "Sacraments of the Gospel" (see Art. xxv., par. 2).

[20] Certa testimonia, efficacia signa (Art. xxv.). It is worth the while to point out that a "sign" is "effectual" when it effectually does the work of a sign, not some quite different work. A seal is an effectual seal, not because, conceivably, its matter could be used as a powerful medicine, but because, attached to its document, it effectually seals the document's validity. A seal is in this respect a special sort of "effectual sign." And so are the Sacraments.

[21] See the Parker Society's collection of authors for Bullinger's Decades, or Doctrinal Sermons; officially recognized as a body of divinity by the Church of England in Elizabeth's reign.