THE STRUGGLE.

“Passion riots; reason then contends,

And on the conquest every bliss depends.”

There are two different periods in the history of the race; in the history

of a nation; in the history of the church; in the history of moral

institutions, and in the history of families. In one the intellect

predominates, governs; in the other the emotional nature, or passion,

rules. The fatal day in the history of a nation is the day in which,

through party strife or otherwise, a nation of people becomes a seething

mass of heated passion. Such a nation is like a vessel tossed upon the

waves above the falls of some mighty river, liable to be buried in the

whirlpool of destruction. Men who are governed by their emotional nature

are most liable to disappointments, to troubles, and difficulties of every

kind. Select all the miserable families in your community, tell me where

they are, and I will show you every family in which passion reigns.

Troubles are generally legitimate children of passion. Who has not heard

some one say, repentingly, “If I had taken a second, sober thought I would

not have done it.” Intellect belongs to our higher nature, and emotion

belongs to our lower. Intelligence is always at a discount where the

emotional nature governs—it is subordinated to passion. When the intellect

governs, the emotional is subjected to thought; when either one

predominates, the other is brought under and enslaved. These are the two

conflicting elements in man’s nature which are generally at war with each

other, leading to different and antagonistic results. During the dark

ages, which were ushered in through the repudiation of intelligence and

the predominance of passion, the emotional reigned, and men were governed

by their passions in religious as well as state affairs. The shadows of

those ages still linger with some communities, and with many persons in

almost all communities. Our fathers had a long and hard struggle in

getting away from an emotional to an intellectual state, both in civil as

well as religious affairs. To-day, if we consider this matter in

connection with our people as a nation, we may safely say that we are in

an intellectual period—mind predominates. This is an age of investigation.

The time was, in the history of our fathers, when a man was fined fifty

pounds of tobacco if he refused to have his innocent child christened.

_See the_ “_old Blue Laws._” The time was when innocent persons were

tried, condemned, and put to death for being, in the estimation of men,

clothed with disgraceful ignorance, _witches_. Who has not heard of the

“Salem witchcraft?”

The emotional nature of man, as a ruling sovereign, is losing its

“legal-tender value” daily. The time was when it brought a premium in the

most of the churches in our country. An aged father, who is now “across

the river,” once said to me, “I was bewildered, and mentally lost for

thirty years of my life.” I asked him for the facts. He, answering, said:

“During all that period of time I was a church member, and, like some

others, I was a quiet, still kind of a soul; I paid my honest debts; told

the truth about my neighbors, and lived a moral life to the very best of

my abilities. There were others of the same character. The preachers

frequently called us Quakers—the Quakers were a very still people in those

days. There were others who were reckless; would not always tell the

truth, and would not always pay their honest debts, but they were,

nevertheless, very noisy in the church, and the preacher always made most

of those noisy fellows. Now,” said the aged father, “I never could

understand that.” The old man lived to learn the secret, and changed his

religious relations and began a new life in religion.

The scenes of the “Cane Ridge revival,” down in Kentucky, have not been

repeated in all our country for more than twenty years, and it is probable

that they never will be. There are many things in the past history of

religion in our country that will never be repeated. Did you ever witness

a panic in a large congregation of people? If you have, you may go with me

to “Cane Ridge.” Before we start I wish to remind you of the fact that

some of the most fearful panics known to men took place where, and when,

there was no reason for them outside of existing ignorance. Fright or

fear, coupled with ignorance, produced them. Now let us go to “Cane

Ridge.” There we find the people in the emotional period in the history of

religion. They are laboring under the conviction that Jehovah has

concentrated all the powers of His Spirit at Cane Ridge—it is the common

conviction. The people all over the country believe that God is there. The

excitement runs high, and yet higher; it becomes contagious—a religious

epidemic—the ruling element being the thought of the presence of the

Divine Majesty, and the emotional nature of man the field of its

operations. All the ignorance of a genuine panic is there. There were no

well-informed unbelievers there to tear off the veil, nor better-informed

Christians to remove it, not even so much as a Wesley to exonerate God by

saying, “I am constrained to believe that it is the devil tearing them as

they are coming to Christ.” No! There is one conviction at Cane Ridge—it

is this: _Jehovah is here._ It was a wonderful panic—a wonderful time.

Persons going on to the ground immediately fell down like dead men; got up

with the jerks; barked like dogs. Women went backwards and forwards,

making singular gestures; their heads were bobbing with the jerks, and

their long hair cracking like whips. The scene was beyond description. The

whole country flocked to the place, and all were confounded with amazement

and astonishment.

If such operations were religion, our country has been without it for a

long time. Then our old-fashioned camp-meetings—where are they? They are

things of the past. I recollect leaving a camp-ground at a late hour of

the night, just as the congregation divided up into groups, and the groups

went out into the woods in different directions to engage in secret

prayer. We heard them when we were three miles away—_strange secret

prayer_! Do you know anything of that kind of secret prayer at the present

time?

The common pulpit teaching of those times was wonderful(?), but it was the

best they had. It was common for preachers to make war upon education.

They often boasted of their ignorance. They claimed that education was not

necessary to qualify a man for the pulpit. The best school teachers in our

country received twelve and fifteen dollars per month for teaching, and

boarded themselves. Teachers who now pay five dollars per week for board,

can’t see how those old teachers got along upon such wages. In those times

it was very common for teachers to get their board for seventy-five cents

per week. The farmers claimed that it was unnecessary to educate their

daughters, and only necessary to educate their sons sufficiently well to

enable them to keep their accounts. Beyond this it was often claimed that

an education was of no value—that it only made rascals. I recollect a very

zealous old man who preached for the German Baptists; he is now “across

the waves.” Once, in my presence, he disposed of a grammatical argument

that was put against him, by saying, “It is the wisdom of the world, and

it is sensual and devilish.” It was common forty years ago for preachers

to say, “I don’t know what I shall say, but just as the Lord gives it to

me I will hand it to you.” As a general thing those men knew no better,

and the masses of the people knew no better. The people were living in an

Emotional period, with the exception of a few brave thinkers, and they

were governed by their emotions.

Prosperity grew with the growth of our country, and the standard of

education was elevated. The free-school system took the place of the

old-fashioned subscription schools, which were worth twelve dollars per

month to the whole community, and the brave thinkers continued stirring up

thought in religion, and giving the fathers and mothers trouble about this

thing of confounding religion with passion, and our country is now fairly

at sea in an Intellectual period. Religion is now a thing to be learned

and lived—_to be done_. Those brave men who advocated an intelligent

religion forty years ago, were denounced, from almost every pulpit in our

country, as a set of “whitewashed infidels,” having no religion, and

“without God in the world.”

But that day is past, and we are in a period in which mind generally

predominates. The language of the emotional is seldom heard. In that

period it was common to hear men ask: “How did you get religion?” “where

did you get religion?” “where did you get religion?” “describe it;” “O I

can’t, it is better felt than expressed.” Such language was in keeping

with a very common idea which was held sacred in those days. It was this,

the Lord made general provision for the salvation of men, but He makes a

special application to the sinner. Of course, all to whom salvation was

not especially applied, were, in the estimation of those people, _lost_.

There are a few communities yet that are away back in the emotional

period. There are men and women in every community who are yet governed by

their emotional nature in matters of religion. Those persons have no use

for an intelligent, argumentative preacher. They want a preacher who will

say smoothe things; and there is now and then a preacher who has no

strength outside of the emotional.

We have an emotional nature. I am glad that we have. I would not be an

intellectual wooden-man if I could. But if you say, the Almighty Father

intended that we should be intellectually subordinated to our emotional

nature, and therefore governed by our passions, or feelings, I shall deny

it. He never intended that we should be governed by our passions. To-day

there are strong intellects in unbelief flooding our country with their

literature. How shall they be met? Mr. Moody says, “Show them that you are

full of Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost.” Very well. Can you do that

without the truth? can you do that without word or wisdom? can you do it

without “contending earnestly for the faith once delivered unto the

saints?” In the days of Christ and His apostles the men who were full of

the Holy Spirit had a mouth and wisdom which none of their adversaries

were able to resist or gainsay. The antichrists of our day can not be met

successfully without reason, without argument, without meeting the

intellectual demands of the times.

There are intellectual men and women in almost every community throughout

our country—men and women with whom intelligence governs—who want the whys

and wherefores upon every subject. This class is on the increase at a

rapid rate. It does no good to set ourselves against reason, and oppose

the current of thought with our emotional nature. In that way we may

succeed with those who are governed by their emotional nature, but the

work, when it is done, is a work upon the passions, and will soon pass

away, unless the intellect was at the same time enlisted. The men who stir

the world with thought, and give intellectual cast to the age in which we

live, are to be met with thought, met with reason, met with truths tried

in the crucible.

Christianity has nothing to fear in the great struggle that is being

carried on for the truth’s sake. But it has lost much for want of

investigation. Our free school and Sunday-school systems are making the

rising generation better acquainted with both science and the Bible, and a

thorough acquaintance with both is the one thing most needed in order to a

better future in religion, as well as in every other human interest. The

time is come when men will no longer be content to listen to grave errors

and keep silence. Every truth is being put to the test of logic, as well

as fact. It is natural to abhor a contradiction, and it is right. All

truth is harmonious. I am glad that harmony is demanded in religious

teaching; I often think of pulpit teaching away back thirty and forty

years ago. It used to be very popular in some parts to tell people that

they could do nothing to better their condition in a future state, and, at

the same time, exhort them to do better.

I heard of three brothers, George, William and James. George and William

were “Hard-shell Baptist” preachers; James made no profession. His wife

was a member of George’s congregation. She was a great “scold.” One day

James failed to do just as she wished him, and, as a matter of course, he

received quite a lecture; finally the woman told him that it was a great

pity that he could not be a good man, like his brother George or brother

William, and fell to exhorting him to do better. He finally became

impatient and said, “Yes! George and William were too lazy to work, and I

called them to preach. They both stood it until the third call, and then

put on their hats and went. You belong to George’s church, and I go there

with you to hear him preach. He tells me that I can do nothing, and you

tell me that I can do nothing; and, now, what in the h—l do you want me to

do?” Such inconsistent teaching was always repugnant to common sense and

natural reason. There are many persons yet teaching the old falsehood that

man is passive in his conversion, notwithstanding the fact that men are

imperatively commanded to convert—turn, that their sins may be blotted

out. Men are yet found in some Protestant pulpits who spend a great deal

of their time praying the Lord to convert sinners. It is often the case,

in their own estimation, that the Lord gives no heed to their prayers; but

this has happened so frequently that it does not seem to trouble them. It

has been a very short time since I heard a minister advocating what he was

pleased to call “miraculous conversion.” I thought, if you are right in

that matter, why did the Heavenly Father command his love, commended in

the Savior’s death, preached to every creature, and still refuse to

convert every creature? What difference does it make to me whether the

Lord passed me by before He made Adam, or passed me by on yesterday? And

if He refuses to send His spirit and convert me until the last, and I die

in my sins and am lost, who is to blame? What is the difference between

His neglect to convert me and the old Calvinistic idea that Christ did not

die for me? What is the difference between the spirit of God being partial

to communities—going into one and converting a great many persons and

passing others by—and God Himself being partial? And why does the Spirit

not convert all the unwilling sinners in the community where it does

convert sinners? These are questions that have been asked in a great many

hearts before they yielded themselves up to skepticism and infidelity.

In the present stage of critical investigation it is well for all

preachers to remember that there is but one question involving this whole

matter of conversion and pardon, and that is the question coupled with the

Judgment; it is not, How much did the Heavenly Father love me? He loved

all men. It is not, How much did Jesus do for _me_? He tasted death for

every man. It is not, How much has the Spirit done for me? It gave the

gospel to all nations, as the power of God unto salvation to every man

that believeth. The one, and only, question in the Judgment is, What have

I done for myself? What are the deeds done in my body? the deeds which _I

have done_.

Christianity is right thinking and doing; all that is to be attained in

the religion of Christ is enjoyed in an upright life. Every theory that

conflicts with this grand sentiment is smoked with the darkness of the

dark ages. The Father of Spirits made us with the power of choice—gave us

the liberty to choose—and we all may have, in the future, just such a

state as we will. The Father loved all; the Son died for all; and the

Spirit says to all, COME!

The great struggle that is now going on between Christianity and unbelief

is accomplishing two good things: First, it is making it hard for

professors of religion to hold their errors, or cover up hypocrisy; and

second, it is making it hard for infidels and skeptics to hold on to their

flimsy objections to the Christian religion. Let the struggle go on!

The Christian Foundation, Or, Scientific and Religious Journal, May, 1880 · 第 7 / 14 题