The third constitutional Synod was held at Barby, on the Elbe,

near Magdeburg {1775.}. At this Synod the power of the U.E.C. was

strengthened. In order to prevent financial crises in future, the

Brethren now laid down the law that each congregation, though having

its own property, should contribute a fixed annual quota to the

general fund; that all managers of local diaconies should be directly

responsible to the U.E.C.; and that each congregation should send in to

the U.E.C. an annual financial statement. In this way, therefore, all

Church property was, directly or indirectly, under the control of the

U.E.C. The weakness of this arrangement is manifest. As long as the

U.E.C. was resident in Germany, and as long as it consisted almost

exclusively of Germans, it could not be expected to understand financial

questions arising in England and America, or to fathom the mysteries of

English and American law; and yet this was the system in force for the

next eighty-two years. It is true that the Brethren devised a method

to overcome this difficulty. The method was the method of official

visitations. At certain periods a member of the U.E.C. would pay

official visitations to the chief congregations in Germany, England,

America and the Mission Field. For example, Bishop John Frederick

Reichel visited North America (1778-1781) and the East Indies; Bishop

John de Watteville (1778-1779) visited in England, Ireland, Scotland

and Wales; and John Henry Quandt (1798) visited Neuwied-on-the-Rhine.

In some ways the method was good, in others bad. It was good because it

fostered the unity of the Church, and emphasized its broad international

character. It was bad because it was cumbrous and expensive, because it

exalted too highly the official element, and because it checked local

independent growth.

Finally, at this third constitutional Synod, the Brethren struck a

clear note on doctrinal questions. The main doctrines of the Church were

defined as follows: (1) The doctrine of the universal depravity of man;

that there is no health in man, and that since the fall he has no power

whatever left to help himself. (2) The doctrine of the Divinity of

Christ; that God, the Creator of all things, was manifest in the flesh,

and reconciled us unto Himself; that He is before all things, and that

by Him all things consist. (3) The doctrine of the atonement and the

satisfaction made for us by Jesus Christ; that He was delivered for our

offences, and raised again for our justification; and that by His merits

alone we receive freely the forgiveness of sin and sanctification in

soul and body. (4) The doctrine of the Holy Spirit and the operations of

His grace; that it is He who worketh in us conviction of sin, faith in

Jesus, and pureness of heart. (5) The doctrine of the fruits of faith;

that faith must evidence itself by willing obedience to the commandments

of God, from love and gratitude to Him. In those doctrines there

was nothing striking or peculiar. They were the orthodox Protestant

doctrines of the day; they were the doctrines of the Lutheran Church,

of the Church of England, and the Church of Scotland; and they were,

and are, all to be found in the Augsburg Confession, in the Thirty-nine

Articles, and in the Westminster Confession.

Such, then, were the methods and doctrines laid down by the three

constitutional Synods. In methods the Brethren were distinctive; in

doctrine they were "orthodox evangelical." We may now sum up the results

of this chapter. We have a semi-democratic Church constitution. We

have a governing board, consisting mostly of Germans, and resident

in Germany. We have the systematic use of the Lot. We have a broad

evangelical doctrinal standpoint. We are now to see how these principles

and methods worked out in Germany, Great Britain and America.

CHAPTER II. -- THE FIGHT FOR THE GOSPEL; OR, MORAVIANS AND RATIONALISTS, 1775-1800.

If a man stands up for the old theology when new theology is in the

air, he is sure to be praised by some for his loyalty, and condemned

by others for his stupidity; and that was the fate of the Brethren

in Germany during the closing years of the eighteenth century. The

situation in Germany was swiftly changing. The whole country was in

a theological upheaval. As soon as the Brethren had framed their

constitution, they were summoned to the open field of battle. For fifty

years they had held their ground against a cold and lifeless orthodoxy,

and had, therefore, been regarded as heretics; and now, as though by

a sudden miracle, they became the boldest champions in Germany of the

orthodox Lutheran faith. Already a powerful enemy had entered the field.

The name of the enemy was Rationalism. As we enter the last quarter of

the eighteenth century, we hear the sound of tramping armies and the

first mutterings of a mighty storm. The spirit of free inquiry spread

like wildfire. In America it led to the War of Independence; in England

it led to Deism; in France it led to open atheism and all the horrors

of the French Revolution. In Germany, however, its effect was rather

different. If the reader knows anything of Germany history, he will

probably be aware of the fact that Germany is a land of many famous

universities, and that these universities have always played a leading

part in the national life. It is so to-day; it was so in the eighteenth

century. In England a Professor may easily become a fossil; in Germany

he often guides the thought of the age. For some years that scoffing

writer, Voltaire, had been openly petted at the court of Frederick the

Great; his sceptical spirit was rapidly becoming fashionable; and now

the professors at the Lutheran Universities, and many of the leading

Lutheran preachers, were expounding certain radical views, not only on

such vexed questions as Biblical inspiration and the credibility of the

Gospel narratives, but even on some of the orthodox doctrines set forth

in the Augsburg Confession. At Halle University, John Semler propounded

new views about the origin of the Bible; at Jena, Griesbach expounded

textual criticism; at Göttingen, Eichhorn was lecturing on Higher

Criticism; and the more the views of these scholars spread, the more the

average Church members feared that the old foundations were giving way.

Amid the alarm, the Brethren came to the rescue. It is needful to state

their position with some exactness. We must not regard them as blind

supporters of tradition, or as bigoted enemies of science and research.

In spite of their love of the Holy Scriptures, they never entered into

any controversy on mere questions of Biblical criticism. They had no

special theory of Biblical inspiration. At this time the official Church

theologian was Spangenberg. He was appointed to the position by the

U.E.C.; he was commissioned to prepare an Exposition of Doctrine; and,

therefore, the attitude adopted by Spangenberg may be taken as the

attitude of the Brethren. But Spangenberg himself did not believe that

the whole Bible was inspired by God. "I cannot assert," he wrote in one

passage, "that every word in the Holy Scriptures has been inspired by

the Holy Ghost and given thus to the writers. For example, the speeches

at the end of the book of Job, ascribed there to God, are of such a

nature that they cannot possibly have proceeded from the Holy Ghost."

He believed, of course, in the public reading of Scripture; but when the

Brethren were planning a lectionary, he urged them to make a distinction

between the Old and New Testaments. "Otherwise," he declared, "the

reading of the Old Testament may do more harm than good." He objected to

the public reading of Job and the Song of Songs.

But advanced views about the Bible were not the main feature of the

rationalistic movement. A large number of the German theologians were

teaching what we should call "New Theology." Instead of adhering to

the Augsburg Confession, a great many of the Lutheran professors and

preachers were attacking some of its leading doctrines. First, they

denied the doctrine of the Fall, whittled away the total depravity of

man, and asserted that God had created men, not with a natural bias to

sin, but perfectly free to choose between good and evil. Secondly,

they rejected the doctrine of reconciliation through the meritorious

sufferings of Christ. Thirdly, they suggested that the doctrine of the

Holy Trinity was an offence to reason. Around these three doctrines

the great battle was fought. To the Brethren those doctrines were all

fundamental, all essential to salvation, and all precious parts of

Christian experience; and, therefore, they defended them against the

Rationalists, not on intellectual, but on moral and spiritual grounds.

The whole question at issue, in their judgment, was a question of

Christian experience. The case of Spangenberg will make this clear. To

understand Spangenberg is to understand his Brethren. He defended the

doctrine of total depravity, not merely because he found it in the

Scriptures, but because he was as certain as a man can be that he had

once been totally depraved himself; and he defended the doctrine

of reconciliation because, as he wrote to that drinking old sinner,

Professor Basedow, he had found all grace and freedom from sin in the

atoning sacrifice of Jesus. He often spoke of himself in contemptuous

language; he called himself a mass of sins, a disgusting creature, an

offence to his own nostrils; and he recorded his own experience when

he said: "It has pleased Him to make out of me--a revolting creature--a

child of God, a temple of the Holy Ghost, a member of the body of

Christ, all heir of eternal life." There we have Spangenberg's theology

in a sentence; there shines the Brethren's experimental religion. The

doctrine of the Trinity stood upon the same basis. In God the Father

they had a protector; in God the Son an ever present friend; in God the

Holy Ghost a spiritual guide; and, therefore, they defended the doctrine

of the Trinity, not because it was in the Augsburg Confession, but

because, in their judgment, it fitted their personal experience.

And yet the Brethren were not controversialists. Instead of arguing with

the rationalist preachers, they employed more pleasing methods of their

own.

The first method was the publication of useful literature. The most

striking book, and the most influential, was Spangenberg's Idea Fidei

Fratrum; i.e., Exposition of the Brethren's Doctrine {1778.}. For

many years this treatise was prized by the Brethren as a body of sound

divinity; and although it can no longer be regarded as a text-book for

theological students, it is still used and highly valued at some of the

Moravian Mission stations.[140] From the first the book sold well, and its

influence in Germany was great. It was translated into English, Danish,

French, Swedish, Dutch, Bohemian and Polish. Its strength was its

loyalty to Holy Scripture; its weakness its lack of original thought. If

every difficult theological question is to be solved by simply appealing

to passages of Scripture, it is obvious that little room is left for

profound and original reflection; and that, speaking broadly, was the

method adopted by Spangenberg in this volume. His object was twofold.

On the one hand, he wished to be true to the Augsburg Confession; on the

other hand, he would admit no doctrine that was not clearly supported

by Scripture. The book was almost entirely in Scriptural language. The

conventional phrases of theology were purposely omitted. In spite of his

adherence to the orthodox faith, the writer never used such phrases as

Trinity, Original Sin, Person, or Sacrament. He deliberately abandoned

the language of the creeds for the freer language of Scripture. It was

this that helped to make the book so popular. The more fiercely the

theological controversy raged, the more ready was the average working

pastor to flee from the dust and din of battle by appealing to the

testimony of the Bible.

"How evangelical! How purely Biblical!" wrote Spangenberg's friend,

Court Councillor Frederick Falke (June 10th, 1787). Christian David

Lenz, the Lutheran Superintendent at Riga, was charmed. "Nothing," he

wrote, "has so convinced me of the purity of the Brethren's evangelical

teaching as your Idea Fidei Fratrum. It appeared just when it was

needed. In the midst of the universal corruption, the Brethren are a

pillar of the truth." The Danish Minister of Religion, Adam Struensee,

who had been a fellow-student with Spangenberg at Jena, was eloquent

in his praises. "A great philosopher at our University," he wrote to

Spangenberg, "complained to me about our modern theologians; and then

added: 'I am just reading Spangenberg's Idea. It is certain that our

successors will have to recover their Christian theology from the

Moravian Brethren.'" But the keenest criticism was passed by Caspar

Lavater. His mixture of praise and blame was highly instructive. He

contrasted Spangenberg with Zinzendorf. In reading Zinzendorf, we

constantly need the lead pencil. One sentence we wish to cross out; the

next we wish to underline. In reading Spangenberg we do neither. "In

these recent works of the Brethren," said Lavater, "I find much less

to strike out as unscriptural, but also much less to underline as deep,

than in the soaring writings of Zinzendorf."

And thus the Brethren, under Spangenberg's guidance, entered on a new

phase. In originality they had lost; in sobriety they had gained; and

now they were honoured by the orthodox party in Germany as trusted

champions of the faith delivered once for all unto the saints.

The same lesson was taught by the new edition of the Hymn-book {1778.}.

It was prepared by Christian Gregor. The first Hymn-book, issued by the

Renewed Church of the Brethren, appeared in 1735. It consisted chiefly

of Brethren's hymns, written mostly by Zinzendorf; and during the

next fifteen years it was steadily enlarged by the addition of twelve

appendices. But in two ways these appendices were faulty. They were

far too bulky, and they contained some objectionable hymns. As

soon, however, as the Brethren had recovered from the errors of the

Sifting-Time, Count Zinzendorf published a revised Hymn-book in London

(1753-4); and then, a little later, an extract, entitled "Hymns of

Sharon." But even these editions were unsatisfactory. They contained too

many hymns by Brethren, too many relics of the Sifting-Time, and too few

hymns by writers of other Churches. But the edition published by Gregor

was a masterpiece. It contained the finest hymns of Christendom from

nearly every source. It was absolutely free from extravagant language;

and, therefore, it has not only been used by the Brethren from that day

to this, but is highly valued by Christians of other Churches. In

1784 Christian Gregor brought out a volume of "Chorales," where noble

thoughts and stately music were wedded.

The next class of literature issued was historical. The more fiercely

the orthodox Gospel was attacked, the more zealously the Brethren

brought out books to show the effect of that Gospel on the lives of

men. In 1765, David Cranz, the historian, published his "History of

Greenland." He had been for fourteen months in Greenland himself. He

had studied his subject at first hand; he was a careful, accurate,

conscientious writer; his book soon appeared in a second edition (1770),

and was translated into English, Dutch, Swedish and Danish; and

whatever objections philosophers might raise against the Gospel of

reconciliation, David Cranz was able to show that by the preaching

of that Gospel the Brethren in Greenland had taught the natives to

be sober, industrious and pure. In 1777 the Brethren published G.

A. Oldendorp's elaborate "History of the Mission in the Danish West

Indies," and, in 1789, G. H. Loskiel's "History of the Mission Among the

North American Indians." In each case the author had been on the spot

himself; and in each case the book was welcomed as a proof of the power

of the Gospel.

The second method was correspondence and visitation. In spite of their

opposition to rationalistic doctrine the Brethren kept in friendly touch

with the leading rationalist preachers. Above all, they kept in touch

with the Universities. The leader of this good work was Spangenberg.

Where Zinzendorf had failed, Spangenberg succeeded. It is a curious

feature of Zinzendorf's life that while he won the favour of kings and

governments, he could rarely win the favour of learned Churchmen. As

long as Zinzendorf reigned supreme, the Brethren were rather despised at

the Universities; but now they were treated with marked respect. At one

time the U.E.C. suggested that regular annual visits should be paid

to the Universities of Halle, Wittenberg and Leipzig; and in one

year Bishop Layritz, a member of the U.E.C., visited the Lutheran

Universities of Halle, Erlangen, Tübingen, Strasburg, Erfurt and

Leipzig, and the Calvinist Universities of Bern, Geneva and Basle. In

response to a request from Walch of Göttingen, Spangenberg wrote his

"Brief Historical Account of the Brethren" and his "Account of the

Brethren's Work Among the Heathen"; and, in response to a request from

Köster of Gieszen, he wrote a series of theological articles for that

scholar's "Encyclopædia." Meanwhile, he was in constant correspondence

with Schneider at Eisenach, Lenz at Riga, Reinhard at Dresden, Roos at

Anhausen, Tittman at Dresden, and other well-known Lutheran preachers.

For thirteen years (1771-1784) the seat of the U.E.C. was Barby; and

there they often received visits from leading German scholars. At one

time the notorious Professor Basedow begged, almost with tears in his

eyes, to be admitted to the Moravian Church; but the Brethren could

not admit a man, however learned he might be, who sought consolation

in drink and gambling. On other occasions the Brethren were visited

by Campe, the Minister of Education; by Salzmann, the founder of

Schnepfenthal; and by Becker, the future editor of the German Times.

But the most distinguished visitor at Barby was Semler, the famous

rationalist Professor at Halle. "He spent many hours with us," said

Spangenberg {1773.}. "He expounded his views, and we heard him to the

end. In reply we told him our convictions, and then we parted in

peace from each other." When Semler published his "Abstract of Church

History," he sent a copy to Spangenberg; and Spangenberg returned the

compliment by sending him the latest volume of his "Life of Zinzendorf."

At these friendly meetings with learned men the Brethren never argued.

Their method was different. It was the method of personal testimony. "It

is, I imagine, no small thing," said Spangenberg, in a letter to Dr. J.

G. Rosenmüller, "that a people exists among us who can testify both by

word and life that in the sacrifice of Jesus they have found all

grace and deliverance from sin." And thus the Brethren replied to the

Rationalists by appealing to personal experience.

The third method was the education of the young. For its origin we turn

to the case of Susannah Kühnel. At the time of the great revival in

Herrnhut {1727.}, the children had not been neglected; Susannah Kühnel,

a girl of eleven, became the leader of a revival. "We had then for our

master," said Jacob Liebich, "an upright and serious man, who had the

good of his pupils much at heart." The name of the master was Krumpe.

"He never failed," continued Liebich, "at the close of the school to

pray with us, and to commend us to the Lord Jesus and His Spirit during

the time of our amusements. At that time Susannah Kühnel was awakened,

and frequently withdrew into her father's garden, especially in the

evenings, to ask the grace of the Lord and to seek the salvation of her

soul with strong crying and tears. As this was next door to the house

where we lived (there was only a boarded partition between us), we could

hear her prayers as we were going to rest and as we lay upon our beds.

We were so much impressed that we could not fall asleep as carelessly as

formerly, and asked our teachers to go with us to pray. Instead of going

to sleep as usual, we went to the boundaries which separated the fields,

or among the bushes, to throw ourselves before the Lord and beg Him to

turn us to Himself. Our teachers often went with us, and when we had

done praying, and had to return, we went again, one to this place and

another to that, or in pairs, to cast ourselves upon our knees and pray

in secret." Amid the fervour occurred the events of August 13th. The

children at Herrnhut were stirred. For three days Susannah Kühnel was

so absorbed in thought and prayer that she forgot to take her food; and

then, on August 17th, having passed through a severe spiritual struggle,

she was able to say to her father: "Now I am become a child of God; now

I know how my mother felt and feels." We are not to pass this story

over as a mere pious anecdote. It illustrates an important Moravian

principle. For the next forty-two years the Brethren practised

the system of training the children of Church members in separate

institutions; the children, therefore, were boarded and educated by the

Church and at the Church's expense;[141] and the principle underlying

the system was that children from their earliest years should receive

systematic religious training. If the child, they held, was properly

trained and taught to love and obey Jesus Christ, he would not need

afterwards to be converted. He would be brought up as a member of the

Kingdom of God. As long as the Brethren could find the money, they

maintained this "Children's Economy." The date of Susannah's conversion

was remembered, and became the date of the annual Children's Festival;

and in every settlement and congregation special meetings for children

were regularly held. But the system was found too expensive. At the

Synod of 1769 it was abandoned. No longer could the Brethren maintain

and educate the children of all their members; thencefoward they could

maintain and educate only the children of those in church service.

For the sons of ministers they established a Pædagogium; for the

daughters of ministers a Girls' School at Kleinwelke, in Saxony; and

for candidates for ministerial service a Theological Seminary, situated

first at Barby, then at Niesky, and finally at Gnadenfeld, in Silesia.

At the same time, the Brethren laid down the rule that each congregation

should have its own elementary day school. At first these schools were

meant for Moravians only; but before long they were thrown open to the

public. The principle of serving the public steadily grew. It began in

the elementary schools; it led to the establishment of boarding-schools.

The first step was taken in Denmark. At Christiansfeld, in

Schleswig-Holstein, the Brethren had established a congregation by

the special request of the Danish Government; and there, in 1774, they

opened two boarding-schools for boys and girls. From that time the

Brethren became more practical in their methods. Instead of attempting

the hopeless task of providing free education, they now built a number

of boarding-schools; and at the Synod of 1782 they officially recognized

education as a definite part of their Church work. The chief schools

were those at Neuwied-on-the-Rhine; Gnadenfrei, in Silesia; Ebersdorf,

in Vogt-land; and Montmirail, in Switzerland. The style of architecture

adopted was the Mansard. As the standard of education was high, the

schools soon became famous; and as the religion taught was broad, the

pupils came from all Protestant denominations. On this subject the

well-known historian, Kurtz, has almost told the truth. He informs us

that during the dreary period of Rationalism, the schools established

by the Brethren were a "sanctuary for the old Gospel, with its blessed

promises and glorious hopes." It would be better, however, to speak

of these schools as barracks. If we think of the Brethren as retiring

hermits, we shall entirely misunderstand their character. They fought

the Rationalists with their own weapons; they gave a splendid classical,

literary and scientific education; they enforced their discipline on

the sons of barons and nobles; they staffed their schools with men of

learning and piety; and these men, by taking a personal interest in the

religious life of their pupils, trained up a band of fearless warriors

for the holy cause of the Gospel. It was this force of personal

influence and example that made the schools so famous; this that won

the confidence of the public; and this that caused the Brethren to be

so widely trusted as defenders of the faith and life of the Lutheran

Church.

The fourth method employed by the Brethren was the Diaspora. Here

again, as in the public schools, the Brethren never attempted to

make proselytes. At the Synod of 1782, and again at a Conference of

Diaspora-workers, held at Herrnhut (1785), the Brethren emphatically

laid down the rule that no worker in the Diaspora should ever attempt to

win converts for the Moravian Church. The Diaspora work was now at the

height of its glory. In Lusatia the Brethren had centres of work at

Herrnhut, Niesky and Kleinwelke; in Silesia, at Gnadenfrei, Gnadenberg,

Gnadenfeld and Neusalz; in Pomerania, at Rügen and Mecklenburg; in

East Prussia, at Danzig, Königsberg and Elbing; in Thuringia, at

Neudietendorf; in the Palatinate and the Wetterau; at Neuwied; in

Brandenburg, at Berlin and Potsdam; in Denmark, at Christiansfeld,

Schleswig, Fühnen, and Copenhagen; in Norway, at Christiana, Drammen

and Bergen; in Sweden, at Stockholm and Gothenburg; in Switzerland,

at Basel, Bern, Zürich and Montmirail; and finally, in Livonia and

Esthonia, they employed about a hundred preachers and ministered

to about six thousand souls. At this rate it would appear that the

Moravians in Germany were increasing by leaps and bounds; but in reality

they were doing nothing of the kind. At this time the Moravian influence

was felt in every part of Germany; and yet during this very period

they founded only the three congregations of Gnadenfeld, Gnadau, and

Königsfeld.

But the greatest proof of the Brethren's power was their influence over

Schleiermacher. Of all the religious leaders in Germany Schleiermacher

was the greatest since Luther; and Schleiermacher learned his religion,

both directly and indirectly, from the Brethren. It is sometimes stated

in lives of Schleiermacher that he received his earliest religious

impressions from his parents; but, on the other hand, it should be

remembered that both his parents, in their turn, had come under Moravian

influence. His father was a Calvinistic army chaplain, who had made

the acquaintance of Brethren at Gnadenfrei (1778). He there adopted the

Brethren's conception of religion; he became a Moravian in everything

but the name; his wife passed through the same spiritual experience;

he then settled down as Calvinist pastor in the colony of Anhalt; and

finally, for the sake of his children, he visited the Brethren again at

Gnadenfrei (1783). His famous son was now a lad of fifteen; and here,

among the Brethren at Gnadenfrei, the young seeker first saw the

heavenly vision. "It was here," he said, "that I first became aware of

man's connection with a higher world. It was here that I developed that

mystic faculty which I regard as essential, and which has often upheld

and saved me amid the storms of doubt."

But Schleiermacher's father was not content. He had visited the Brethren

both at Herrnhut and Niesky; he admired the Moravian type of teaching;

and now he requested the U.E.C. to admit both his sons as pupils to

the Pædagogium at Niesky. But the U.E.C. objected. The Pædagogium, they

said, was meant for Moravian students only. As the old man, however,

would take no refusal, the question was put to the Lot; the Lot gave

consent; and to Niesky Schleiermacher and his brother came. For two

years, therefore, Schleiermacher studied at the Brethren's Pædagogium at

Niesky; and here he learned some valuable lessons {1783-5.}. He learned

the value of hard work; he formed a friendship with Albertini, and

plunged with him into a passionate study of Greek and Latin literature;

and he learned by personal contact with bright young souls that

religion, when based on personal experience, is a thing of beauty and

joy. Above all, he learned from the Brethren the value of the historical

Christ. The great object of Schleiermacher's life was to reconcile

science and religion. He attempted for the Germans of the eighteenth

century what many theologians are attempting for us to-day. He

endeavoured to make a "lasting treaty between living Christian faith and

the spirit of free inquiry." He found that treaty existing already at

Niesky. As the solemn time of confirmation drew near, the young lad was

carried away by his feelings, and expected his spiritual instructor to

fan the flame. "But no!" says Schleiermacher, "he led me back to the

field of history. He urged me to inquire into the facts and quietly

think out conclusions for myself." Thus Schleiermacher acquired at

Niesky that scientific frame of mind, and also that passionate devotion

to Christ, which are seen in every line he wrote.

From Niesksy he passed to the Theological Seminary at Barby {1785-87.}.

But here the influence was of a different kind. Of the three theological

professors at Barby--Baumeister, Bossart, and Thomas Moore--not one was

intellectually fitted to deal with the religious difficulties of young

men. Instead of talking frankly with the students about the burning

problems of the day, they simply lectured on the old orthodox lines,

asserted that certain doctrines were true, informed the young seekers

that doubting was sinful, and closed every door and window of the

college against the entrance of modern ideas. But modern ideas streamed

in through the chinks. Young Schleiermacher was now like a golden eagle

in a cage. At Niesky he had learned to think for himself; at Barby he

was told that thinking for himself was wrong. He called the doctrines

taught by the professors "stupid orthodoxy." He rejected, on

intellectual grounds, their doctrine of the eternal Godhead of Christ;

and he rejected on moral and spiritual grounds their doctrines of

the total depravity of man, of eternal punishment, and of the

substitutionary sufferings of Christ. He wrote a pathetic letter to his

father. "I cannot accept these doctrines," he said. He begged his father

to allow him to leave the college; the old man reluctantly granted the

request; and Schleiermacher, therefore, left the Brethren and pursued

his independent career.

And yet, though he differed from the Brethren in theology, he felt

himself at one with them in religion. In one sense, he remained a

Moravian to the end. He called himself a "Moravian of the higher order";

and by that phrase he probably meant that he had the Brethren's faith

in Christ, but rejected their orthodox theology. He read their monthly

magazine, "Nachrichten." He maintained his friendship with Bishop

Albertini, and studied his sermons and poems. He kept in touch with the

Brethren at Berlin, where his sister, Charlotte, lived in one of

their establishments. He frequently stayed at Gnadenfrei, Barby, and

Ebersdorf. He chatted with Albertini at Berthelsdorf. He described

the Brethren's singing meetings as models. "They make a deep religious

impression," he said, "which is often of greater value than many

sermons." He loved their celebration of Passion Week, their triumphant

Easter Morning service, and their beautiful Holy Communion. "There is no

Communion to compare with theirs," he said; and many a non-Moravian has

said the same. He admired the Moravian Church because she was free; and

in one of his later writings he declared that if that Church could only

be reformed according to the spirit of the age, she would be one of

the grandest Churches in the world. "In fundamentals," he said, "the

Brethren are right; it is only their Christology and theology that are

bad, and these are only externals. What a pity they cannot separate the

surface from the solid rock beneath." To him the fundamental truth of

theology was the revelation of God in Jesus Christ; and that also was

the fundamental element in the teaching of Zinzendorf.[142]

Meanwhile the great leader of the Brethren had passed away from

earth. At the advanced age of eighty-eight, Bishop Spangenberg died

at Berthelsdorf {1792.}. In history Spangenberg has not received his

deserts. We have allowed him to be overshadowed by Zinzendorf. In

genius, he was Zinzendorf's inferior; in energy, his equal; in practical

wisdom, his superior. He had organized the first Moravian congregation

in England, i.e., the one at Fetter Lane; he superintended the first

campaign in Yorkshire; he led the vanguard in North America; he defended

the Brethren in many a pamphlet just after the Sifting-Time; he gave

their broad theology literary form; and for thirty years, by his wisdom,

his skill, and his patience, he guided them through many a dangerous

financial crisis. Amid all his labours he was modest, urbane and

cheerful. In appearance his admirers called him apostolic. "He looked,"

said one, "as Peter must have looked when he stood before Ananias, or

John, when he said, Little children, love each other."

"See there, Lavater," said another enthusiast, "that is what a Christian

looks like."

But the noblest testimony was given by Becker, the editor of the German

Times. In an article in that paper, Becker related how once he had an

interview with Spangenberg, and how Spangenberg recounted some of his

experiences during the War in North America. The face of the Bishop was

aglow. The great editor was struck with amazement. At length he stepped

nearer to the white-haired veteran, and said:--

"Happy man! reveal to me your secret! What is it that makes you so

strong and calm? What light is this that illumines your soul? What power

is this that makes you so content? Tell me, and make me happy for ever."

"For this," replied the simple Spangenberg, his eyes shining with joy,

"for this I must thank my Saviour."

There lay the secret of Spangenberg's power; and there the secret of

the services rendered by the Brethren when pious evangelicals in Germany

trembled at the onslaught of the new theologians. For these services the

Brethren have been both blamed and praised. According to that eminent

historian, Ritschl, such men as Spangenberg were the bane of the

Lutheran Church. According to Dorner, the evangelical theologian, the

Brethren helped to save the Protestant faith from ruin. "When other

Churches," says Dorner, "were sunk in sleep, when darkness was almost

everywhere, it was she, the humble priestess of the sanctuary, who fed

the sacred flame." Between two such doctors of divinity who shall judge?

But perhaps the philosopher, Kant, will be able to help us. He was

in the thick of the rationalist movement; and he lived in the town

of Königsberg, where the Brethren had a Society. One day a student

complained to Kant that his philosophy did not bring peace to the heart.

"Peace!" replied the great philosopher, "peace of heart you will never

find in my lecture room. If you want peace, you must go to that little

Moravian Church over the way. That is the place to find peace."[143]

CHAPTER III. -- A FALL AND A RECOVERY, 1800-1857.

As the Rationalist movement spread in Germany, it had two distinct

effects upon the Brethren. The first was wholesome; the second was

morbid. At first it aroused them to a sense of their duty, and made

them gallant soldiers of the Cross; and then, towards the close of the

eighteenth century, it filled them with a horror of all changes and

reforms and of all independence in thought and action. The chief cause

of this sad change was the French Revolution. At first sight it may seem

that the French Revolution has little to do with our story; and Carlyle

does not discuss this part of his subject. But no nation lives to

itself; and Robespierre, Mirabeau and Marat shook the civilized world.

In England the French Revolution caused a general panic. At first, of

course, it produced a few revolutionaries, of the stamp of Tom Paine;

but, on the whole, its general effect was to make our politicians afraid

of changes, to strengthen the forces of conservatism, and thus to

block the path of the social and political reformer. Its effect on the

Brethren was similar. As the news of its horrors spread through Europe,

good Christian people could not help feeling that all free thought

led straight to atheism, and all change to revolution and murder; and,

therefore, the leading Brethren in Germany opposed liberty because

they were afraid of license, and reform because they were afraid of

revolution.

For the long period, therefore of eighteen years, the Moravian Church

in Germany remained at a standstill {1800-18.}. At Herrnhut the Brethren

met in a General Synod, and there the Conservatives won a signal

victory. Already the first shots in the battle had been fired, and

already the U.E.C. had taken stern measures. Instead of facing the

situation frankly, they first shut their own eyes and then tried to make

others as blind as themselves. At this Synod the deputy for Herrnhut

was a lawyer named Riegelmann; and, being desirous to do his duty

efficiently, he had asked for a copy of the "Synodal Results" of

1764 and 1769. His request was moderate and sensible. No deputy could

possibly do his duty unless he knew the existing laws of the Church.

But his request was sternly refused. He was informed that no private

individual was entitled to a copy of the "Results." Thus, at the opening

of the nineteenth century, a false note was struck; and the Synod

deliberately prevented honest inquiry. Of the members, all but two

were church officials. For all practical purposes the laymen were

unrepresented. At the head of the conservative party was Godfrey Cunow.

In vain some English ministers requested that the use of the Lot should

no longer be enforced in marriages. The arguments of Cunow prevailed.

"Our entire constitution demands," he said, "that in our settlements

no marriage shall be contracted without the Lot." But the Brethren laid

down a still more depressing principle. For some years the older

leaders had noticed, with feelings of mingled pain and horror, that

revolutionary ideas had found a home even in quiet Moravian settlements;

and in order to keep such ideas in check, the Synod now adopted the

principle that the true kernel of the Moravian Church consisted, not of

all the communicant members, but only of a "Faithful Few." We can hardly

call this encouraging. It tempted the "Faithful Few" to be Pharisees,

and banned the rest as black sheep. And the Pastoral Letter, drawn up

by the Synod, and addressed to all the congregations, was still more

disheartening. "It will be better," ran one fatal sentence, "for us to

decrease in numbers and increase in piety than to be a large multitude,

like a body without a spirit." We call easily see what such a sentence

means. It means that the Brethren were afraid of new ideas, and resolved

to stifle them in their birth.

The new policy produced strange results. At the Theological Seminary in

Niesky the professors found themselves in a strange position. If they

taught the old theology of Spangenberg, they would be untrue to their

convictions; if they taught their convictions, they would be untrue

to the Church; and, therefore, they solved the problem by teaching no

theology at all. Instead of lecturing on the Bible, they lectured now

on philosophy; instead of expounding the teaching of Christ and His

Apostles, they expounded the teaching of Kant, Fichte and Jacobi; and

when the students became ministers, they had little but philosophy to

offer the people. For ordinary people philosophy is as tasteless as

the white of an egg. As the preachers spoke far above the heads of the

people, they soon lost touch with their flocks; the hungry sheep looked

up, and were not fed; the sermons were tinkling brass and clanging

cymbal; and the ministers, instead of attending to their pastoral

duties, were hidden away in their studies in clouds of philosophical and

theological smoke, and employed their time composing discourses, which

neither they nor the people could understand. Thus the shepherds lived

in one world, and the wandering sheep in another; and thus the bond

of sympathy between pastor and people was broken. For this reason the

Moravian Church in Germany began now to show signs of decay in moral

and spiritual power; and the only encouraging signs of progress were the

establishment of the new settlement of Königsfeld in the Black Forest,

the Diaspora work in the Baltic Provinces, officially recognized by the

Czar, the growth of the boarding-schools, and the extension of foreign

missions. In the boarding-schools the Brethren were at their best. At

most of them the pupils were prepared for confirmation, and the children

of Catholics were admitted. But the life in the congregations was at

a low ebb. No longer were the Brethren's Houses homes of Christian

fellowship; they were now little better than lodging-houses, and

the young men had become sleepy, frivolous, and even in some cases

licentious. For a short time the U.E.C. tried to remedy this evil by

enforcing stricter rules; and when this vain proceeding failed, they

thought of abolishing Brethren's Houses altogether. At the services in

Church the Bible was little read, and the people were content to feed

their souls on the Hymn-book and the Catechism. The Diacony managers

were slothful in business, and the Diaconies ceased to pay. The

subscriptions to central funds dwindled. The fine property at Barby was

abandoned. The Diaspora work was curtailed.

Another cause of decay was the growing use of the Lot. For that growth

the obvious reason was that, when the Brethren saw men adrift on every

side, they felt that they themselves must have an anchor that would

hold. It was even used in the boarding-schools. No pupil could be

admitted to a school unless his application had been confirmed by the

Lot.[144] No man could be a member of a Conference, no election was valid,

no law was carried, no important business step was taken, without the

consent of the Lot. For example, it was by the decision of the Lot

that the Brethren abandoned their cause at Barby; and thus, afraid

of intellectual progress, they submitted affairs of importance to an

external artificial authority. Again and again the U.E.C. desired to

summon a Synod; and again and again the Lot rejected the proposal.

Meanwhile another destructive force was working. Napoleon Buonaparte was

scouring Europe, and the German settlements were constantly invaded by

soldiers. At Barby, Generals Murat and Bernadotte were lodged in the

castle, and entertained by the Warden. At Gnadau the French made the

chapel their headquarters, killed and ate the live stock, ransacked the

kitchens and cellars, cleared out the stores, and made barricades of the

casks, wheelbarrows and carts. At Neudietendorf the Prussians lay like

locusts. At Ebersdorf, Napoleon lodged in the Brethren's House, and

quartered twenty or thirty of his men in every private dwelling. At

Kleinwelke, where Napoleon settled with the whole staff of the Grand

Army, the Single Sisters had to nurse two thousand wounded warriors;

and the pupils in the boarding-school had to be removed to Uhyst. At

Gnadenberg the settlement was almost ruined. The furniture was smashed,

the beds were cut up, the tools of the tradesmen were spoiled, and the

soldiers took possession of the Sisters' House. But Napoleon afterwards

visited the settlement, declared that he knew the Brethren to be a quiet

and peaceable people, and promised to protect them in future. He did

not, however, offer them any compensation; his promise of protection was

not fulfilled; and a few months later his own soldiers gutted the place

again. At Herrnhut, on one occasion, when the French were there, the

chapel was illuminated, and a service was held to celebrate Napoleon's

birthday; and then a little later Blücher arrived on the scene, and

summoned the people to give thanks to God for a victory over the French.

At Niesky the whole settlement became a general infirmary. Amid scenes

such as this Church progress was impossible. The cost in money was

enormous. At Herrnhut alone the levies amounted to £3,000; to this must

be added the destruction of property and the feeding of thousands of

troops of both sides; and thus the Brethren's expenses were increased by

many thousands of pounds.

At length, however, at Waterloo Napoleon met his conqueror; the great

criminal was captured and sent to St. Helena; and then, while he was

playing chess and grumbling at the weather, the Brethren met again at

Herrnhut in another General Synod {1818.}. At this Synod some curious

regulations were made. For the purpose of cultivating personal holiness,

Bishop Cunow proposed that henceforward the members of the Moravian

Church should be divided into two classes. In the first class he placed

the ordinary members--i.e., those who had been confirmed or who had

been received from other Churches; and all belonging to this class

were allowed to attend Communion once a quarter. His second class was a

sacred "Inner Circle." It consisted of those, and only those, who made

a special religious profession. No one could be admitted to this "Inner

Circle" without the sanction of the Lot; and none but those belonging to

the "Circle" could be members of the Congregation Council or Committee.

All members belonging to this class attended the Communion once a month.

For a wonder this strange resolution was carried, and remained in force

for seven years; and at bottom its ruling principle was that only those

elected by the Lot had any real share in Church government. But the

question of the Lot was still causing trouble. Again there came a

request from abroad--this time from America--that it should no longer be

enforced in marriages. For seven years the question was keenly debated,

and the radicals had to fight very hard for victory. First the Synod

passed a resolution that the Lot need not be used for marriages

except in the regular settlements; then the members in the settlements

grumbled, and were granted the same privilege (1819), and only ministers

and missionaries were compelled to marry by Lot; then the ministers

begged for liberty, and received the same privilege as the laymen

(1825); and, finally, the missionaries found release (1836), and thus

the enforced use of the Lot in marriages passed out of Moravian history.

But the Brethren had better work on hand than to tinker with their

constitution. At the root of their troubles had been the neglect of the

Bible. In order, therefore, to restore the Bible to its proper position

in Church esteem, the Brethren now established the Theological College

at Gnadenfeld (1818). There John Plitt took the training of the students

in hand; there systematic lectures were given on Exegesis, Dogmatics,

Old Testament Introduction, Church History, and Brethren's History;

there, in a word, John Plitt succeeded in training a band of ministers

who combined a love for the Bible with love for the Brethren's Church.

At the same time, the Synod appointed an "Educational Department" in the

U.E.C.; the boarding-schools were now more efficiently managed; and the

number of pupils ran up to thirteen hundred.

Amid this new life the sun rose on the morning of the 17th of June,

1722, a hundred years after Christian David had felled the first tree

at Herrnhut. The Brethren glanced at the past. The blood of the martyrs

seemed dancing in their veins. At Herrnhut the archives of the Church

had been stored; Frederick Kölbing had ransacked the records; and only

a few months before he had produced his book, "Memorial Days of the

Renewed Brethren's Church." From hand to hand the volume passed, and was

read with eager delight. The spirit of patriotic zeal was revived. Never

surely was there such a gathering in Herrnhut as on that Centenary Day.

From all the congregations in Germany, from Denmark, from Sweden, from

Holland, from Switzerland, from England, the Brethren streamed to thank

the Great Shepherd for His never-failing kindnesses. There were Brethren

and friends of the Brethren, clergymen and laymen, poor peasants in

simple garb from the old homeland in Moravia, and high officials from

the Court of Saxony in purple and scarlet and gold. As the vast assembly

pressed into the Church, the trombones sounded forth, and the choir sang

the words of the Psalmist, so rich in historic associations: "Here the

sparrow hath found a home, and the swallow a nest for her young, even

thine altars, oh, Lord of Hosts!" It was a day of high jubilation and a

day of penitent mourning; a day of festive robes and a day of sack-cloth

and ashes. As the great throng, some thousands in number, and arranged

in choirs, four and four, stood round the spot on the roadside where

Christian David had raised his axe, and where a new memorial-stone now

stood, they rejoiced because during those hundred years the seed had

become a great tree, and they mourned because the branches had begun to

wither and the leaves begun to fall. The chief speaker was John Baptist

Albertini, the old friend of Schleiermacher. Stern and clear was the

message he gave; deep and full was the note it sounded. "We have lost

the old love," he said; "let us repent. Let us take a warning from

the past; let us return unto the Lord." With faces abashed, with heads

bowed, with hearts renewed, with tears of sorrow and of joy in their

eyes, the Brethren went thoughtfully homewards.

At the next General Synod (1825), however, they made an alarming

discovery. In spite of the revival of Church enthusiasm, they found that

during the last seven years they had lost no fewer than one thousand two

hundred members; and, searching about to find the cause, they found it

in Bishop Cunow's "Inner Circle." It was time to abolish that "Circle";

and abolished it therefore was.

At the next General Synod (1836), the Brethren took another step

forward. In order to encourage the general study of the Bible, they

arranged that in every congregation regular Bible readings should be

held; and, in order to deepen the interest in evangelistic work, they

decreed that a prayer meeting should be held the first Monday of every

month. At this meeting the topic of intercession was to be, not the mere

prosperity of the Brethren, but the cultivation of good relations with

other Churches and the extension of the Kingdom of God throughout the

world.

The next sign of progress was the wonderful revival in the Pædagogium

at Niesky {1841.}. For nine years that important institution, where

ministerial candidates were trained before they entered the Theological

Seminary, had been under the management of Frederick Immanuel

Kleinschmidt; and yet, despite his sternness and piety, the boys had

shown but a meagre spirit of religion. If Kleinschmidt rebuked them,

they hated him; if he tried to admonish them privately, they told him

fibs. There, at the very heart of the young Church life, religion was

openly despised; and the Pædagogium had now become little better than

an ordinary private school. If a boy, for example, wished to read his

Bible, he had to do so in French, pretend that his purpose was simply

to learn a new language, and thus escape the mockery of his schoolmates.

The case was alarming. If piety was despised in the school of the

prophets, what pastors was Israel likely to have in the future?

The revival began very quietly. One boy, Prince Reuss, was summoned home

to be present at his father's death-bed; and when he returned to the

school a few days later found himself met by an amount of sympathy which

boys are not accustomed to show. A change of some kind had taken place

during his absence. The nightwatchman, Hager, had been heard praying in

his attic for the boys. A boy, in great trouble with a trigonometrical

problem which would not come right, had solved the difficulty by

linking work with prayer. The boys in the "First Room"--i.e., the elder

boys--made an agreement to speak with one another openly before the Holy

Communion.

At length, on November 13th, when the Brethren in the other

congregations were celebrating the centenary of the Headship of Christ,

there occurred, at the evening Communion at Niesky, "something new,

something unusual, something mightily surprising." With shake of hand

and without a word those elder boys made a solemn covenant to serve

Christ. Among them were two who, fifty years later, were still famous

Moravian preachers; and when they recalled the events of that evening

they could give no explanation to each other. "It was," they said, in

fond recollection, "something unusual, but something great and holy,

that overcame us and moved us. It must have been the Spirit of Christ."

For those boys that wonderful Communion service had ever sacred

associations; and Bishop Wunderling, in telling the story, declared

his own convictions. "The Lord took possession of the house," he said,

"bound all to one another and to Himself, and over all was poured the

spirit of love and forgiveness, and a power from above was distributed

from the enjoyment of the Communion."

"What wonder was it," wrote one boy home, "that when we brothers united

to praise the Lord, He did not put to shame our longings and our faith,

but kindled others from our fire."

In this work the chief leaders were Kleinschmidt the headmaster, Gustave

Tietzen, Ferdinand Geller, and Ernest Reichel. At first, of course,

there was some danger that the boys would lose their balance; but the

masters, in true Moravian style, checked all signs of fanaticism. It is

hardly correct to call the movement a revival. It is better to call it

an awakening. It was fanned by historic memories, was very similar to

the first awakening at Herrnhut, and soon led to very similar results.

No groans, or tears, or morbid fancies marred the scene. In the

playground the games continued as usual. On every hand were radiant

faces, and groups in earnest chat. No one ever asked, "Is so-and-so

converted?" For those lads the burning question was, "In what way can

I be like Christ?" As the boys retired to rest at night, they would ask

the masters to remember them in prayer, and the masters asked the

same in return of the boys. The rule of force was over. Before, old

Kleinschmidt, like our English Dr. Temple, had been feared as a "just

beast." Now he was the lovable father. At revivals in schools it has

sometimes happened that while the boys have looked more pious, they have

not always been more diligent and truthful; but at Niesky the boys now

became fine models of industry, honesty and good manners. They confessed

their faults to one another, gave each other friendly warnings, formed

unions for prayer, applied the Bible to daily life, were conscientious

in the class-room and in the playground; and then, when these golden

days were over, went out with tongues of flame to spread the news

through the Church. The real test of a revival is its lasting effect on

character. If it leads to selfish dreaming, it is clay; if it leads to

life-long sacrifice, it is gold; and well the awakening at Niesky stood

the test.

At the next General Synod all present could see that the Moravian Church

was now restored to full life, and the American deputies, who had

come to see her decently interrred, were amazed at her hopefulness and

vigour. At that Synod the signs of vigorous life were many {1848.}. For

the first time the Brethren opened their meetings to the public, allowed

reporters to be present, and had the results of their proceedings

printed and sold. For the first time they now resolved that, instead of

shutting themselves up in settlements, they would try, where possible,

to establish town and country congregations. For the first time they

now agreed that, in the English and American congregations, new members

might be received without the sanction of the Lot. Meanwhile, the boys

awakened at Niesky were already in harness. Some had continued their

studies at Gnadenfeld, and were now powerful preachers. Some had become

teachers at Königsfeld, Kleinwelke, and Neuwied. Some were preaching the

Gospel in foreign lands. Along the Rhine, in South and West Germany, in

Metz and the Wartebruch, and in Russian Poland, the Brethren opened new

fields of Diaspora work; and away in the broadening mission field the

energy was greater than ever. In Greenland a new station was founded at

Friedrichstal; in Labrador, at Hebron; in Surinam, at Bambey; in South

Africa, at Siloh and Goshen; on the Moskito Coast, at Bluefields; in

Australia, at Ebenezer; and in British India, near Tibet, at Kyelang.

And thus our narrative brings us down to 1857. We may pause to sum

up results. If a church is described as making progress, most readers

generally wish to know how many new congregations she has founded, and

how many members she has gained. But progress of that kind was not what

the Brethren desired; and during the period covered by this chapter

they founded only one new congregation. They had still only seventeen

congregations in Germany, in the proper sense of that word; but, on the

other hand, they had fifty-nine Diaspora centres, and about one hundred

and fifty Diaspora workers. At the heart, therefore, of all their

endeavours we see the design, not to extend the Moravian Church, but to

hold true to the old ideals of Zinzendorf. In that sense, at least, they

had made good progress. They showed to the world a spirit of brotherly

union; they were on good terms with other Churches; they made their

schools and their Diaspora centres homes of Christian influence; and,

above all, like a diamond set in gold, there flashed still with its

ancient lustre the missionary spirit of the fathers.

CHAPTER IV. -- THE BRITISH COLLAPSE, 1760-1801.

Of all the problems raised by the history of the Brethren, the most

difficult to solve is the one we have now to face. In the days of John

Wesley, the Moravians in England were famous; in the days of Robertson,

of Brighton, they were almost unknown. For a hundred years the Moravians

in England played so obscure and modest a part in our national life that

our great historians, such as Green and Lecky, do not even notice their

existence, and the problem now before us is, what caused this swift and

mysterious decline?

As the companions of Zinzendorf--Boehler, Cennick, Rogers and

Okeley--passed one by one from the scenes of their labours, there

towered above the other English Brethren a figure of no small grandeur.

It was Benjamin La Trobe, once a famous preacher in England. He sprang

from a Huguenot family, and had first come forward in Dublin. He had

been among the first there to give a welcome to John Cennick, had held

to Cennick when others left him, had helped to form a number of his

hearers into the Dublin congregation, and had been with Cennick on his

romantic journey's among the bogs and cockpits of Ulster. As the years

rolled on, he came more and more to the front. At Dublin he had met a

teacher of music named Worthington, and a few years later La Trobe and

Worthington were famous men at Fulneck. When Fulneck chapel was being

built, La Trobe stood upon the roof of a house to preach. When the

chapel was finished, La Trobe became Brethren's labourer, and his friend

Worthington played the organ. In those days Fulneck Chapel was not large

enough to hold the crowds that came, and La Trobe had actually to stand

upon the roof to harangue the vast waiting throng. As Cennick had been

before in Ireland, so La Trobe was now in England. He was far above most

preachers of his day. "He enraptured his audience," says an old account,

"by his resistless eloquence. His language flowed like rippling streams,

and his ideas sparkled like diamonds. His taste was perfect, and his

illustrations were dazzling; and when he painted the blackness of the

human heart, when he depicted the matchless grace of Christ, when

he described the beauty of holiness, he spoke with an energy, with

a passion, with a dignified sweep of majestic power which probed the

heart, and pricked the conscience, and charmed the troubled breast." It

was he of whom it is so quaintly recorded in a congregation diary: "Br.

La Trobe spoke much on many things."

For twenty-one years this brilliant preacher was the chief manager of

the Brethren's work in England; and yet, though he was not a German

himself, his influence was entirely German in character {1765-86.}. He

was manager of the Brethren's English finances; he was appointed to

his office by the German U.E.C.; and thus, along with James Hutton as

Secretary, he acted as official representative of the Directing Board in

England.

In many ways his influence was all for good. He helped to restore to

vigorous life the "Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel" (1768)

remained its President till his death, and did much to further its

work in Labrador. He was a diligent writer and translator. He wrote a

"Succinct View of the Missions" of the Brethren (1771), and thus brought

the subject of foreign missions before the Christian public; and in

order to let inquirers know what sort of people the Moravians really

were, he translated and published Spangenberg's "Idea of Faith,"

Spangenberg's "Concise Account of the Present Constitution of the Unitas

Fratrum," and David Cranz's "History of the Brethren." The result

was good. The more people read these works by La Trobe, the more they

respected the Brethren. "In a variety of publications," said the London

Chronicle, "he removed every aspersion against the Brethren, and firmly

established their reputation." He was well known in higher circles,

was the friend of Dr. Johnson, and worked in union with such well-known

Evangelical leaders as Rowland Hill, William Romaine, John Newton,

Charles Wesley, Hannah More, Howell Harris, and Bishop Porteous, the

famous advocate of negro emancipation. Above all, he cleansed the

Brethren's reputation from the last stains of the mud thrown by such men

as Rimius and Frey. He was a friend of the Bishop of Chester; he was a

popular preacher in Dissenting and Wesleyan Chapels; he addressed Howell

Harris's students at Trevecca; he explained the Brethren's doctrines

and customs to Lord Hillsborough, the First Commissioner of the Board

of Trade and Plantations; and thus by his pen, by his wisdom and by his

eloquence, he caused the Brethren to be honoured both by Anglicans and

by Dissenters. At this period James Hutton--now a deaf old man--was

a favourite at the Court of George III. No longer were the Brethren

denounced as immoral fanatics; no longer did John Wesley feel it his

duty to expose their errors. As John Wesley grew older and wiser, he

began to think more kindly of the Brethren. He renewed his friendship

with James Hutton, whom he had not seen for twenty-five years (Dec. 21,

1771); he visited Bishop John Gambold in London, and recorded the event

in his Journal with the characteristic remark, "Who but Count Zinzendorf

could have separated such friends as we are?" He called, along with his

brother Charles, on John de Watteville at Lindsey House; and, above all,

when Lord Lyttleton, in his book "Dialogues of the Dead," attacked the

character of the Brethren, John Wesley himself spoke out nobly in their

defence. "Could his lordship," he wrote in his Journal (August 30th,

1770), "show me in England many more sensible men than Mr. Gambold and

Mr. Okeley? And yet both of these were called Moravians...What sensible

Moravian, Methodist or Hutchinsonian did he ever calmly converse with?

What does he know of them but from the caricatures drawn by Bishop

Lavington or Bishop Warburton? And did he ever give himself the

trouble of reading the answers to these warm, lively men? Why should a

good-natured and a thinking man thus condemn whole bodies by the lump?"

But the pleasantest proof of Wesley's good feeling was still to come.

At the age of eighty he went over to Holland, visited the Brethren's

beautiful settlement at Zeist, met there his old friend, Bishop Anthony

Seifferth, and asked to hear some Moravian music and singing. The

day was Wesley's birthday. As it happened, however, to be "Children's

Prayer-Day" as well, the minister, being busy with many meetings, was

not able to ask Wesley to dinner; and, therefore, he invited him instead

to come to the children's love-feast. John Wesley went to the chapel,

took part in the love-feast, and heard the little children sing a

"Birth-Day Ode" in his honour {June 28th, 1783.}. The old feud between

Moravians and Methodists was over. It ended in the children's song.[145]

One instance will show La Trobe's reputation in England {1777.}. At that

time there lived in London a famous preacher, Dr. Dodd; and now, to

the horror of all pious people, Dr. Dodd was accused and convicted of

embezzlement, and condemned to death. Never was London more excited.

A petition with twenty-three thousand signatures was sent up in Dodd's

behalf. Frantic plots were made to rescue the criminal from prison. But

Dodd, in his trouble, was in need of spiritual aid; and the two men for

whom he sent were John Wesley and La Trobe. By Wesley he was visited

thrice; by La Trobe, at his own request, repeatedly; and La Trobe was

the one who brought comfort to his soul, stayed with him till the end,

and afterwards wrote an official account of his death.

And yet, on the other hand, the policy now pursued by La Trobe was

the very worst policy possible for the Moravians in England. For that

policy, however, we must lay the blame, not on the man, but on the

system under which he worked. As long as the Brethren's Church in

England was under the control of the U.E.C., it followed, as a matter

of course, that German ideas would be enforced on British soil; and

already, at the second General Synod, the Brethren had resolved that the

British work must be conducted on German lines. Never did the Brethren

make a greater blunder in tactics. In Germany the system had a measure

of success, and has flourished till the present day; in England it was

doomed to failure at the outset. La Trobe gave the system a beautiful

name. He called it the system of "United Flocks." On paper it was lovely

to behold; in practice it was the direct road to consumption. In name it

was English enough; in nature it was Zinzendorf's Diaspora. At no period

had the Brethren a grander opportunity of extending their borders in

England than during the last quarter of the eighteenth century.

In Yorkshire, with Fulneck as a centre, they had four flourishing

congregations, societies in Bradford and Leeds, and preaching places

as far away as Doncaster and Kirby Lonsdale, in Westmoreland. In

Lancashire, with Fairfield as a centre, they were opening work in

Manchester and Chowbent. In Cheshire, with Dukinfield as a centre, they

had a number of societies on the "Cheshire Plan," including a rising

cause at Bullock-Smithy, near Stockport. In the Midlands, with Ockbrook

as a centre, they had preaching places in a dozen surrounding villages.

In Bedfordshire, with Bedford as a centre, they had societies at

Riseley, Northampton, Eydon, Culworth and other places. In Wales, with

Haverfordwest as a centre, they had societies at Laughharne, Fishguard,

Carmarthen and Carnarvon. In Scotland, with Ayre[146] as a centre, they

had societies at Irvine and Tarbolton, and preaching-places at Annan,

Blackhall, Dumfries, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Kilsyth, Kilmarnock, Ladyburn,

Prestwick, Westtown, and twenty smaller places. In the West of England,

with Bristol and Tytherton as centres, they had preaching-places at

Apperley, in Gloucestershire; Fome and Bideford, in Somerset; Plymouth

and Exeter, in Devon; and many villages in Wiitshire. In the North

of Ireland, with Gracehill as a centre, they had preaching-places at

Drumargan, Billies, Arva (Cavan), and many other places.

For the Brethren, therefore, the critical question was, what to do with

the societies and preaching-places? There lay the secret of success or

failure; and there they committed their great strategic blunder. They

had two alternatives before them. The one was to treat each society or

preaching-place as the nucleus of a future congregation; the other was

to keep it as a mere society. And the Brethren, in obedience to orders

from Germany, chose the latter course. At the Moravian congregations

proper the strictest rules were enforced; in most congregations there

were Brethren's and Sisters' Houses; and all full members of the

Moravian Church had to sign a document known as the "Brotherly

Agreement." {1771.} In that document the Brethren gave some remarkable

pledges. They swore fidelity to the Augsburg Confession. They promised

to do all in their power to help the Anglican Church, and to encourage

all her members to be loyal to her. They declared that they would never

proselytize from any other denomination. They promised that no marriage

should take place without the consent of the Elders; that all children

must be educated in one of the Brethren's schools; that they would help

to support the widows, old people and orphans; that no member should set

up in business without the consent of the Elders; that they would

never read any books of a harmful nature. At each congregation these

rules--and others too many to mention here--were read in public once

a year; each member had a printed copy, and any member who broke the

"Agreement" was liable to be expelled. Thus the English Brethren signed

their names to an "Agreement" made in Germany, and expressing German

ideals of religious life. If it never became very popular, we need

not wonder. But this "Agreement" was not binding on the societies and

preaching-places. As the Brethren in Germany founded societies without

turning them into settlements, so the Brethren in England conducted

preaching-places without turning them into congregations and without

asking their hearers to become members of the Moravian Church; and a

strict rule was laid down that only such hearers as had a "distinct call

to the Brethren's Church" should be allowed to join it. The

distinct call came through the Lot. At nearly all the societies and

preaching-places, therefore, the bulk of the members were flatly refused

admission to the Moravian Church; they remained, for the most part,

members of the Church of England; and once a quarter, with a Moravian

minister at their head, they marched in procession to the Communion in

the parish church. For unselfishness this policy was unmatched; but

it nearly ruined the Moravian Church in England. At three

places--Woodford,[147] Baildon and Devonport--the Brethren turned

societies into congregations; but most of the others were sooner or

later abandoned. In Yorkshire the Brethren closed their chapel at

Pudsey, and abandoned their societies at Holbeck, Halifax, Wibsey and

Doncaster. At Manchester they gave up their chapel in Fetter Lane.

In Cheshire they retreated from Bullock Smithy; in the Midlands from

Northampton; in London from Chelsea; in Somerset from Bideford and

Frome; in Devon from Exeter and Plymouth; in Gloucestershire from

Apperley; in Scotland from Irvine, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dumfries and

thirty or forty other places;[148] in Wales from Fishguard, Laugharn,

Carmarthen and Carnarvon; in Ireland from Arva, Billies, Drumargan,

Ballymena, Gloonen, Antrim, Dromore, Crosshill, Artrea, Armagh, and so

on. And the net result of this policy was that when Bishop Holmes, the

Brethren's Historian, published his "History of the Brethren" (1825),

he had to record the distressing fact that in England the Moravians

had only twenty congregations, in Ireland only six, and that the total

number of members was only four thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven.

The question is sometimes asked to-day: How is it that the Moravian

Church is so small? For that smallness more reasons than one may be

given; but one reason was certainly the singular policy expounded in the

present chapter.[149]

CHAPTER V. -- THE BRITISH ADVANCE, 1801-1856.

But our problem is not yet solved. As soon as the nineteenth century

opened, the Brethren began to look forward with hope to the future; and

their leading preachers still believed in the divine and holy calling

of the Moravian Church. Of those preachers the most famous was Christian

Frederick Ramftler. He was a typical Moravian minister. He was a type in

his character, in his doctrine, and in his fortunes. He came of an old

Moravian family, and had martyr's blood in his veins. He was born at

the Moravian settlement at Barby (1780). At the age of six he attended

a Good Friday service, and was deeply impressed by the words, "He bowed

his head and gave up the ghost"; and although he could never name the

date of his conversion, he was able to say that his religion was based

on the love of Christ and on the obligation to love Christ in return.

At the age of seven he was sent to the Moravian school at Kleinwelke;

he then entered the Pædagogium at Barby, and completed his education by

studying theology at Niesky. At that place he was so anxious to

preach the Gospel that, as he had no opportunity of preaching in the

congregation, he determined to preach to the neighbouring Wends; and,

as he knew not a word of their language, he borrowed one of their

minister's sermons, learned it by heart, ascended the pulpit, and

delivered the discourse with such telling energy that the delighted

people exclaimed: "Oh, that this young man might always preach to us

instead of our sleepy parson." For that freak he was gravely rebuked by

the U.E.C., and he behaved with more discretion in the future. For

two years he served the Church as a schoolmaster, first at

Neusalz-on-the-Oder, and then at Uhyst; and then, to his surprise,

he received a call to England. For the moment he was staggered. He

consulted the Lot; the Lot gave consent; and, therefore, to England

he came. For six years he now served as master in the Brethren's

boarding-school at Fairfield; and then, in due course, he was called as

minister to the Brethren's congregation at Bedford. As soon, however, as

he accepted the call, he was informed that he would have to marry; his

wife was found for him by the Church; the marriage turned out a happy

one; and thus, with her as an official helpmate, he commenced

his ministerial career (1810). At Bedford he joined with other

ministers--such as Legh Richmond and S. Hillyard--in founding Bible

associations. At Fulneck--where he was stationed twelve years--he was so

beloved by his congregation that one member actually said: "During seven

years your name has not once been omitted in our family prayers." At

Bristol he was noted for his missionary zeal, took an interest in the

conversion of the Jews, and often spoke at public meetings on behalf of

the Church Missionary Society; and in one year he travelled a thousand

miles on behalf of the "London Association in aid of Moravian Missions."

In manner he was rough and abrupt; at heart he was gentle as a woman.

He was a strict disciplinarian, a keen questioner, and an unflinching

demander of a Christian walk. Not one jot or tittle would he allow his

people to yield to the loose ways of the world. In his sermons he dealt

hard blows at cant; and in his private conversation he generally managed

to put his finger upon the sore spot. One day a collier came to see him,

and complained, in a rather whining tone, that the path of his life was

dark.

"H'm," growled Ramftler, who hated sniffling, "is it darker than it was

in the coal-pit?"

The words proved the collier's salvation.

In all his habits Ramftler was strictly methodical. He always rose

before six; he always finished his writing by eleven; and he kept a list

of the texts from which he preached. As that list has been preserved, we

are able to form some notion of his style; and the chief point to notice

is that his preaching was almost entirely from the New Testament.

At times, of course, he gave his people systematic lectures on the

Patriarchs, the Prophets and the Psalms; but, speaking, broadly, his

favourite topic was the Passion History. Above all, like most Moravian

ministers, he was an adept in dealing with children. At the close of the

Sunday morning service, he came down from the pulpit, took his seat at

the Communion table, put the children through their catechism, and then

asked all who wished to be Christians to come and take his hand.

At length, towards the close of his life, he was able to take some part

in pioneer work. Among his numerous friends at Bristol was a certain

Louis West.

"Have you never thought," said Ramftler, "of becoming a preacher of the

Gospel?"

"I believe," replied West, "I shall die a Moravian minister yet."

"Die as a minister!" snapped Ramftler. "You ought to live as one!"

The words soon came true. In response to an invitation from some pious

people, Ramftler paid a visit to Brockweir, a little village on the

Wye, a few miles above Tintern. The village was a hell on earth. It was

without a church, and possessed seven public-houses. There was a field

of labour for the Brethren. As soon as Ramftler could collect the money,

he had a small church erected, laid the corner-stone himself, and had

the pleasure of seeing West the first minister of the new congregation.

And like Ramftler was many another of kindred blood. At Wyke, John

Steinhauer (1773-76), the children's friend, had a printing press,

wherewith he printed hymns and passages of Scripture in days when

children's books were almost unknown. At Fulneck the famous teacher, Job

Bradley, served for forty-five years (1765-1810), devoted his life to

the spiritual good of boys, and summed up the passion of his life in the

words he was often heard to sing:--

Saviour, Saviour, love the children;

Children, children, love the Saviour.

At Kimbolton, Bishop John King Martyn founded a new congregation. At

Kilwarlin, Basil Patras Zula revived a flagging cause. If the Moravian

Church was small in England, it was not because her ministers were idle,

or because they were lacking in moral and spiritual power.

And yet, fine characters though they were, these men could do little

for Church extension. They were still tied down by the "Brotherly

Agreement." They aimed at quality rather than quantity. As long as

the Brethren's work in England remained under German management, that

"Brotherly Agreement" remained their charter of faith and practice.

For power and place they had not the slightest desire. At their public

service on Sunday mornings they systematically joined in the prayer,

"From the unhappy desire of becoming great, preserve us, gracious Lord

and God." As long as they were true to the Agreement and the Bible, they

do not appear to have cared very much whether they increased in numbers

or not. For them the only thing that mattered was the cultivation of

personal holiness. As the preaching-places fell away they devoted their

attention more and more to the care of the individual. They had a deep

reverence for the authority of Scripture. No man could be a member

of the Moravian Church unless he promised to read his Bible and hold

regular family worship. "The Bible," ran one clause of the Agreement,

"shall be our constant study; we will read it daily in our families,

with prayer for the influence of the Holy Spirit of God." If that duty

was broken, the member was liable to expulsion. And the same held

good with the other clauses of the "Agreement." We often read in the

congregation diaries of members being struck off the rolls for various

sins. For cursing, for lying, for slandering, for evil-speaking, for

fraud, for deceit, for drunkenness, for sabbath breaking, for gambling

or any other immorality--for all these offences the member, if he

persisted in his sin, was summarily expelled. In some of their ideals

the Brethren were like the Puritans; in others like the Quakers. They

were modest in dress, never played cards, and condemned theatres and

dancing as worldly follies. As they still entertained a horror of war,

they preferred not to serve as soldiers; and any Moravian could obtain

a certificate from the magistrates exempting him from personal military

service.[150] At the same time, they were loyal to Church and State, had

a great love for the Church of England, regarded that Church as the

bulwark of Protestantism, detested Popery, and sometimes spoke of the

Pope as the Man of Sin. And yet, sturdy Protestants though they were,

they had a horror of religious strife. "We will abstain from religious

controversy," was another clause in the Agreement; and, therefore, they

never took any part in the religious squabbles of the age. For example,

the Brethren took no part in the fight for Catholic emancipation. As

they did not regard themselves as Dissenters, they declined to join the

rising movement for the separation of Church and State; and yet, on the

other hand, they lived on good terms with all Evangelical Christians,

and willingly exchanged pulpits with Methodists and Dissenters. At this

period their chief doctrine was redemption through the blood of Christ.

I have noticed, in reading the memoirs of the time, that although the

authors differed in character, they were all alike in their spiritual

experiences. They all spoke of themselves as "poor sinners"; they all

condemned their own self-righteousness; and they all traced what virtues

they possessed to the meritorious sufferings of the Redeemer. Thus the

Brethren stood for a Puritan standard, a Bible religion and a broad

Evangelical Faith. "Yon man," said Robert Burns's father in Ayr, "prays

to Christ as though he were God." But the best illustration of the

Brethren's attitude is the story of the poet himself. As Robert and

his brother Gilbert were on their way one Sunday morning to the parish

church at Tarbolton, they fell in with an old Moravian named William

Kirkland; and before long the poet and Kirkland began discussing

theology. Burns defended the New Lights, the Moravian the Old Lights.

At length Burns, finding his arguments of no avail, exclaimed: "Oh, I

suppose I've met with the Apostle Paul this morning."

"No," retorted the Moravian Evangelical, "you have not met the Apostle

Paul; but I think I have met one of those wild beasts which he says he

fought with at Ephesus."

Meanwhile, the Brethren showed other signs of vigour. The first, and one

of the most influential, was their system of public school education.

At the General Synod in 1782 a resolution had been passed that education

should be a recognized branch of Church work; and, therefore, following

the example set in Germany, the English Brethren now opened a number of

public boarding-schools. In 1782-1785 they began to admit non-Moravians

to the two schools already established at Fulneck. In 1792 they opened

girls' schools at Dukinfield and Gomersal; in 1794 a girls' school at

Wyke; in 1796 a girls' school at Fairfield; in 1798 a girls' school at

Gracehill; in 1799 a girls' school at Ockbrook; in 1801 a boys' school

at Fairfield, and a girls' school at Bedford; in 1805 a boys' school at

Gracehill; and, in 1813, a boys' school at Ockbrook. At these schools

the chief object of the Brethren was the formation of Christian

character. They were all established at settlements or at flourishing

congregations, and the pupils lived in the midst of Moravian life. For

some years the religion taught was unhealthy and mawkish, and both boys

and girls were far too strictly treated. They were not allowed to play

competitive games; they were under the constant supervision of teachers;

they had scarcely any exercise but walks; and they were often rather

encouraged in the notion that it was desirable to die young. At one time

the girls at Fulneck complained that not one of their number had died

for six months; and one of the Fulneck records runs: "By occasion of

the smallpox our Saviour held a rich harvest among the children, many of

whom departed in a very blessed manner." As long as such morbid ideas as

these were taught, both boys and girls became rather maudlin characters.

The case of the boys at Fulneck illustrates the point. They attended

services every night in the week; they heard a great deal of the

physical sufferings of Christ; they were encouraged to talk about their

spiritual experiences; and yet they were often found guilty of lying, of

stealing, and of other more serious offences. At first, too, a good many

of the masters were unlearned and ignorant men. They were drafted in

from the Brethren's Houses; they taught only the elementary subjects;

they had narrow ideas of life; and, instead of teaching the boys to be

manly and fight their own battles, they endeavoured rather to shield

them from the world. But as time went on this coddling system was

modified. The standard of education was raised; the masters were often

learned men preparing for the ministry; the laws against competitive

games were repealed; and the religious instruction became more sensible

and practical. If the parents desired it, their children, at a suitable

age, were prepared for confirmation, confirmed by the local Moravian

minister, and admitted to the Moravian Communion service. The pupils

came from all denominations. Sometimes even Catholics sent their

children, and allowed them to receive religious instruction.[151] But no

attempt was ever made to make proselytes. For many years these schools

enjoyed a high reputation as centres of high-class education and of

strict moral discipline. At all these schools the Brethren made much of

music; and the music was all of a solemn devotional character.

"The music taught," said Christian Ignatuis La Trobe, "is both vocal and

instrumental; the former is, however, confined to sacred compositions,

congregational, choral, and orchestral, the great object being to turn

this divine art to the best account for the service and edification of

the Church." At that time (about 1768) the dormitory of Fulneck Boys'

School was over the chapel; and La Trobe tells us how he would keep

himself awake at night to hear the congregation sing one of the

Liturgies to the Father, Son and Spirit.[152] Thus the Brethren, true to

their old ideal, endeavoured to teach the Christian religion without

adding to the numbers of the Moravian Church. It is hardly possible to

over-estimate the influence of these schools. In Ireland the schools

at Gracehill were famous. The pupils came from the highest ranks of

society. At one time it used to be said that the mere fact that a boy or

girl had been educated at Gracehill was a passport to the best society.

In Yorkshire the Brethren were educational pioneers. The most famous

pupil of the Brethren was Richard Oastler. At the age of eight (1797)

that great reformer--the Factory King--was sent by his parents to

Fulneck School; and years later, in an address to the boys, he reminded

them how great their privileges were. "Ah, boys," he said, "let me

exhort you to value your privileges. I know that the privileges of a

Fulneck schoolboy are rare."

But the greatest influence exercised by the Brethren was in the cause

of foreign missions. For that blessing we may partly thank Napoleon

Buonaparte. As that eminent philanthropist scoured the continent of

Europe, he had no intention of aiding the missionary cause; but one

result of his exploits was that when Christian people in England heard

how grievously the German Brethren had suffered at his hands their

hearts were filled with sympathy and the desire to help. At Edinburgh

a number of gentlemen founded the "Edinburgh Association in Aid of

Moravian Missions"; at Glasgow others founded the "Glasgow Auxiliary

Society"; at Bristol and London some ladies formed the "Ladies'

Association" (1813); in Yorkshire the Brethren themselves formed the

"Yorkshire Society for the Spread of the Gospel among the Heathen"

(1827); at Sheffield James Montgomery, the Moravian poet, appealed to

the public through his paper, the Iris; and the result was that in

one year subscriptions to Moravian Missions came in from the Church

Missionary Society, and from other missionary and Bible societies. In

Scotland money was collected annually at Edinburgh, Elgin, Dumfries,

Horndean, Haddington, Kincardine, Perth, Falkirk, Jedwater,

Calton, Bridgetown, Denny, Greenock, Stirling, Paisley, Anstruther,

Inverkeithing, Aberdeen, Lochwinnoch, Leith, Tranent, St. Ninian's,

Brechin, Montrose; in England at Bath, Bristol, Birmingham, Henley,

Berwick, St. Neots, Bedford, Northampton, Colchester, York, Cambridge;

in Ireland at Ballymena, Belfast, Carrickfergus, Lurgan, Cookstown,

Dublin. As the interest of Englishmen in Foreign Missions was still in

its infancy, a long list like this is remarkable. But the greatest proof

of the rising interest in missions was the foundation of the "London

Association in Aid of Moravian Missions" (1817). It was not a Moravian

Society. The founders were mostly Churchmen; but the basis was

undenominational, and membership was open to all who were willing to

subscribe. At first the amount raised by the Association was a little

over £1,000 a year; but as time went on the annual income increased,

and in recent years it has sometimes amounted to £17,000. It is hard to

mention a nobler instance of broad-minded charity. For some years the

secretary of this Association has generally been an Anglican clergyman;

he pleads for Moravian Missions in parish churches; the annual sermon is

preached in St. Paul's Cathedral; and thus the Brethren are indebted to

Anglican friends for many thousands of pounds. Another proof of interest

in Moravian Missions was the publication of books on the subject by

non-Moravian writers. At Edinburgh an anonymous writer published "The

Moravians in Greenland" (1830) and "The Moravians in Labrador" (1833).

Thus the Brethren had quickened missionary enthusiasm in every part of

the United Kingdom.

At home, meanwhile, the Brethren moved more slowly. As they did not wish

to interfere with the Church of England, they purposely confined their

forward movement almost entirely to villages and neglected country

districts. In 1806 they built a chapel in the little village of Priors

Marston, near Woodford; in 1808 they founded the congregation at

Baildon, Yorkshire; in 1818 they began holding services at Stow, near

Bedford; in 1823 they founded the congregation at Kimbolton; in

1827 they founded the congregation at Pertenhall; in 1833 at

Brockweir-on-the-Wye; in 1834 they started a cause at Stratford-on-Avon,

but abandoned it in 1839; in 1836 at Salem, Oldham. In 1829 they founded

the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Ireland; in 1839 they

began holding services at Tillbrook, near Bedford; and in 1839 they

endeavoured, though in vain, to establish a new congregation at Horton,

Bradford. In comparison with the number of societies abandoned, the

number of new congregations was infinitesimal. The same tale is told by

their statistical returns. In 1824 they had 2,596 communicant members;

in 1834, 2,698; in 1850, 2,838; and, in 1857, 2,978; and thus we have

the startling fact that, in spite of their efforts at church extension,

they had not gained four hundred members in thirty-three years. For

this slowness, however, the reasons were purely mechanical; and all the

obstacles sprang from the Brethren's connection with Germany.

First, we have the persistent use of the Lot. For some years the English

Brethren adhered to the custom of enforcing its use in marriages;

and even when it was abolished in marriages they still used it in

applications for membership. No man could be a member of the Moravian

Church without the consent of the Lot; and this rule was still enforced

at the Provincial Synod held at Fairfield in 1847. Sometimes this rule

worked out in a curious way. A man and his wife applied for admission to

the Church; the case of each was put separately to the Lot; the one was

accepted, the other was rejected; and both were disgusted and pained.

Another barrier to progress was the system of ministerial education. For

a few years (1809-27) there existed at Fulneck a high-class Theological

Seminary; but it speedily sickened and died; and henceforward all

candidates for the ministry who desired a good education were compelled

to go to Germany. Thus the Brethren now had two classes of ministers.

If the candidate was not able to go to Germany, he received but a poor

education; and if, on the other hand, he went to Germany, he stayed

there so long--first as a student, and then as a master--that when he

returned to England, he was full of German ideas of authority, and often

spoke with a German accent. And thus Englishmen naturally obtained the

impression that the Church was not only German in origin, but meant

chiefly for Germans.

Another cruel barrier was the poverty of the ministers. They were

overworked and underpaid. They had generally five or six services to

hold every Sunday; they had several meetings during the week; they were

expected to interview every member at least once in two months;

they were entirely without lay assistants; their wives held official

positions, and were expected to share in the work; and yet, despite his

manifold duties, there was scarcely a minister in the Province whose

salary was enough to enable him to make ends meet. At one time the

salary of the minister in London was only £50 a year; at Fulneck it was

only 8s. a week; in other places it was about the same. There was

no proper sustentation fund; and the result was that nearly all the

ministers had to add to their incomes in other ways. In most cases they

kept little schools for the sons and daughters of gentry in the country

districts; but as they were teaching five days a week, they could

not possibly pay proper attention to their ministerial duties. If the

minister had been a single man, he might easily have risen above his

troubles; but as he was compelled by church law to marry, his case

was often a hard one; and at the Provincial Synod held at Fulneck, the

Brethren openly confessed the fact that one of the chief hindrances to

progress was lack of time on the part of the ministers {1835.}.

Another barrier was the absolute power of officials and the limited

power of the laity. No Church can expect to make much progress unless

its institutions are in tune with the institutions of the country. For

good or for evil, England was growing democratic; and, therefore, the

Moravian Church should have been democratic too. But in those days

the Moravian Church was the reverse of democratic. In theory each

congregation had the power to elect its own committee; in fact,

no election was valid unless ratified by the Lot. In theory each

congregation had the power to send a deputy to the Provincial Synod; in

fact, only a few ever used the privilege. At the first Provincial Synod

of the nineteenth century (1824), only four deputies were present; at

the second (1835), only seven; at the third (1847), only nine; at the

fourth (1853), only twelve; at the fifth (1856), only sixteen; and thus,

when the deputies did appear, they could always be easily outvoted by

the ministers.

Another hindrance was the Brethren's peculiar conception of their duty

to their fellow-men in this country. In spite of their enthusiasm for

Foreign Missions, they had little enthusiasm for Home Missions; and

clinging still to the old Pietist notion of a "Church within the

Church," they had not yet opened their eyes to the fact that godless

Englishmen were quite as plentiful as godless Red Indians or Hottentots.

For proof let us turn to the "Pastoral Letter" drawn up by commission

of the Synod at Fulneck {1835.}. At that Synod, the Brethren prepared a

revised edition of the "Brotherly Agreement"; and then, to enforce

the principles of the "Agreement," they commissioned the P.E.C.[153] to

address the whole Church in a "Pastoral Letter." But neither in the

Agreement nor in the Letter did the Brethren recommend Home Mission

work. They urged their flocks to hold prayer meetings, to distribute

tracts, to visit the sick, to invite outsiders to the House of God;

they warned them against the corruption of business life; and they even

besought them not to meddle in politics or to wear party colours. In

Ireland they were not to join Orange Lodges; and in England they were

not to join trade unions. Thus the Brethren distinctly recommended their

people not to take too prominent a part in the social and political life

of the nation.

Again, twelve years later, at the next Synod, held at Fairfield {1847.},

the Brethren issued another "Pastoral Letter." In this letter the

members of the P.E.C. complained that some were denying the doctrine

of eternal punishment, that the parents were neglecting the religious

education of their children, that the Bible was not systematically read,

that the "speaking" before the Holy Communion was neglected, that the

old custom of shaking hands at the close of the Sacrament was dying

out, that the members' contributions were not regularly paid, and that

private prayer meetings were not held as of old; and, therefore, the

Brethren pleaded earnestly for the revival of all these good customs.

And yet, even at this late stage, there was no definite reference in the

"Letter" to Home Mission Work.

Another cause of paralysis was the lack of periodical literature.

We come here to an astounding fact. For one hundred and eight years

(1742-1850), the Moravians struggled on in England without either an

official or an unofficial Church magazine; and the only periodical

literature they possessed was the quarterly missionary report,

"Periodical Accounts." Thus the Church members had no means of airing

their opinions. If a member conceived some scheme of reform, and wished

to expound it in public, he had to wait till the next Provincial Synod;

and as only five Synods were held in fifty years, his opportunity did

not come very often. Further, the Brethren were bound by a rule that

no member should publish a book or pamphlet dealing with Church affairs

without the consent of the U.E.C. or of a Synod.

At length, however, this muzzling order was repealed; and the first

Briton to speak his mind in print was an Irishman, John Carey. For some

time this man, after first reviving a dying cause at Cootehill, in Co.

Cavan, had been making vain endeavours to arouse the Irish Moravians

to a sense of their duty {1850.}; but all he had received in return was

official rebukes. He had tried to start a new cause in Belfast; he had

gathered together a hundred and fifty hearers; he had rented a hall for

worship in King Street; and then the Irish Elders' Conference, in solemn

assembly at Gracehill, strangled the movement at its birth. Instead

of encouraging and helping Carey, they informed him that his work was

irregular, forbade him to form a Society, and even issued a notice

in the Guardian disowning his meetings. But Carey was not to be

disheartened; and now, at his own risk, he issued his monthly magazine,

The Fraternal Messenger. The magazine was a racy production. As John

Carey held no official position, he was able to aim his bullets wherever

he pleased; and, glowing with patriotic zeal, he first gave a concise

epitome of the "History of the Brethren," and then dealt with burning

problems of the day. If the magazine did nothing else, it at least

caused men to think. Among the contributors was Bishop Alexander

Hassé. He had visited certain places in Ireland--Arva, Billies, and

Drumargan--where once the Brethren had been strong; he gave an account

of these visits; and thus those who read the magazine could not fail to

see what glorious opportunities had been thrown away in the past.

At the next Synod, held in Fulneck, all present could see that a

new influence was at work {1853.}. For the first time the Brethren

deliberately resolved that, in their efforts for the Kingdom of God,

they should "aim at the enlargement of the Brethren's Church." They

sanctioned the employment of lay preachers; they established the

Moravian Magazine, edited by John England; and they even encouraged a

modest attempt to rekindle the dying embers at such places as Arva and

Drumargan.

At the next Synod, held again at Fulneck, the Brethren showed a still

clearer conception of their duties {1856.}. The Synodal sermon was

preached by William Edwards. He was a member of the Directing Board, and

must have spoken with a sense of responsibility; and in that sermon

he deliberately declared that, instead of following the German plan of

concentrating their energy on settlements, the Brethren ought to pay

more attention to town and country congregations. "It is here," he

said, "that we lie most open to the charge of omitting opportunities of

usefulness." And the members of the Synod were equally emphatic.

They made arrangements for a Training Institution; they rejected the

principle, which had ruled so long, of a "Church within the Church";

and, thirdly,--most important point of all--they resolved that a society

be formed, called the Moravian Home Mission, and that the object of

that society should be, not only to evangelize in dark and neglected

districts, but also to establish, wherever possible, Moravian

congregations. The chief leader in this new movement was Charles E.

Sutcliffe. He had pleaded the cause of Home Missions for years; and now

he was made the general secretary of the new Home Mission society.

In one way, however, the conduct of the Brethren was surprising. As we

have now arrived at that point in our story when the Moravian Church,

no longer under the rule of the U.E.C., was to be divided into three

independent provinces, it is natural to ask what part the British

Moravians played in this Home Rule movement; what part they played,

i.e., in the agitation that each Province should have its own property,

hold its own Provincial Synods, and manage its own local affairs. They

played a very modest part, indeed! At this Synod they passed three

resolutions: first, that the British P.E.C. should be empowered to

summon a Provincial Synod with the consent of the U.E.C.; second, that

the Synod should be empowered to elect its own P.E.C.; and third, that

"any measure affecting our own province, carried by a satisfactory

majority, shall at once pass into law for the province, with the

sanction of the Unity's Elders' Conference, without waiting for a

General Synod." But in other respects the British Moravians were in

favour of the old constitution. They were not the true leaders of the

Home Rule movement. They made no demand for a separation of property;

they were still willing to bow to the authority of the German Directing

Board; they still declared their belief in the use of the Lot in

appointments to office; and the agitation in favour of Home Rule came,

not from Great Britain, but from North America. To North America,

therefore, we must now turn our attention.

CHAPTER VI. -- THE STRUGGLE IN AMERICA, 1762-1857.

For nearly a century the Moravians in America had felt as uncomfortable

as David in Saul's armour; and the armour in this particular instance

was made of certain iron rules forged at the General Synods held in

Germany. As soon as Spangenberg had left his American friends, the work

was placed, for the time being, under the able management of Bishop

Seidal, Bishop Hehl, and Frederick William von Marschall; and then, in

due course, the American Brethren were informed that a General Synod had

been held at Marienborn (1764), that certain Church principles had there

been laid down, and that henceforward their duty, as loyal Moravians,

was to obey the laws enacted at the General Synods, and also to submit,

without asking questions, to the ruling of the German Directing Board.

The Americans meekly obeyed. The system of Government adopted was

peculiar. At all costs, said the Brethren in Germany, the unity of the

Moravian Church must be maintained; and, therefore, in order to maintain

that unity the Directing Board, from time to time, sent high officials

across the Atlantic on visitations to America. In 1765 they sent old

David Nitschmann; in 1770 they sent Christian Gregor, John Lorentz,

and Alexander von Schweinitz; in 1779 they sent Bishop John Frederick

Reichel; in 1783 they sent Bishop John de Watteville; in 1806 they

sent John Verbeck and John Charles Forester; and thus they respectfully

reminded the American Brethren that although they lived some thousands

of miles away, they were still under the fatherly eye of the German

Directing Board. For this policy the German Brethren had a noble reason.

As the resolutions passed at the General Synods were nearly always

confirmed by the Lot, they could not help feeling that those resolutions

had some Divine authority; and, therefore, what God called good in

Germany must be equally good in America. For this reason they enforced

the settlement system in America just as strictly as in Germany. Instead

of aiming at church extension they centralized the work round the four

settlements of Bethlehem, Nazareth, Salem and Lititz. There, in the

settlements, they enforced the Brotherly Agreement; there they insisted

on the use of the Lot; there they fostered diaconies, choirs, Brethren's

Houses and Sisters' Houses, and all the features of settlement life; and

there alone they endeavoured to cultivate the Moravian Quietist type

of gentle piety. Thus the Brethren in America were soon in a queer

position. As there was no State Church in America, and as, therefore, no

one could accuse them of being schismatics, they had just as much right

to push their cause as any other denomination; and yet they were just as

much restricted as if they had been dangerous heretics. Around them lay

an open country, with a fair field and no favour; within their bosoms

glowed a fine missionary zeal; and behind them, far away at Herrnhut,

sat the Directing Board, with their hands upon the curbing rein.

If this system of government favoured unity, it also prevented growth.

It was opposed to American principles, and out of place on American

soil. What those American principles were we all know. At that famous

period in American history, when the War of Independence broke out, and

the Declaration of Independence was framed, nearly all the people were

resolute champions of democratic government. They had revolted against

the rule of King George III.; they stood for the principle, "no taxation

without representation"; they erected democratic institutions in every

State and County; they believed in the rights of free speech and free

assembly; and, therefore, being democratic in politics, they naturally

wished to be democratic in religion. But the Moravians were on the horns

of a dilemma. As they were not supposed to meddle with politics, they

did not at first take definite sides in the war. They objected to

bearing arms; they objected to taking oaths; and, therefore, of course,

they objected also to swearing allegiance to the Test Act (1777).

But this attitude could not last for ever. As the war continued, the

American Moravians became genuine patriotic American citizens. For

some months the General Hospital of the American Army was stationed at

Bethlehem; at another time it was stationed at Lititz; and some of

the young Brethren joined the American Army, and fought under General

Washington's banner for the cause of Independence. For this natural

conduct they were, of course, rebuked; and in some cases they were even

expelled from the Church.

At this point, when national excitement was at its height, Bishop

Reichel arrived upon the scene from Germany, and soon instructed the

American Brethren how to manage their affairs {1779.}. He acted in

opposition to American ideals. Instead of summoning a Conference of

ministers and deputies, he summoned a Conference consisting of ministers

only; the American laymen had no chance of expressing their opinions;

and, therefore, acting under Reichel's influence, the Conference passed

the astounding resolution that "in no sense shall the societies of

awakened, affiliated as the fruit of the former extensive itinerations,

be regarded as preparatory to the organisation of congregations,

and that membership in these societies does not at all carry with it

communicant membership or preparation for it." There lay the cause

of the Brethren's failure in America. In spite of its rather stilted

language, we can easily see in that sentence the form of an old familiar

friend. It is really our German friend the Diaspora, and our English

friend the system of United Flocks. For the next sixty-four years that

one sentence in italics was as great a barrier to progress in America

as the system of United Flocks in England. As long as that resolution

remained in force, the American Moravians had no fair chance of

extending; and all the congregations except the four settlements were

treated, not as hopeful centres of work, but as mere societies and

preaching-places. Thus again, precisely as in Great Britain, did the

Brethren clip their own wings; thus again did they sternly refuse

admission to hundreds of applicants for Church membership. A few figures

will make this clear. At Graceham the Brethren had 90 adherents,

but only 60 members {1790.}; at Lancaster 258 adherents, but only

72 members; at Philadelphia 138 adherents, but only 38 members; at

Oldmanscreek 131 adherents, but only 37 members; at Staten Island 100

adherents, but only 20 members; at Gnadenhütten 41 adherents, but only

31 members; at Emmaus 93 adherents, but only 51 members; at Schoeneck

78 adherents, but only 66 members; at Hebron 72 adherents, but only 24

members; at York 117 adherents, but only 38 members; and at Bethel 87

adherents, but only 23 members. If these figures are dry, they are at

least instructive; and the grand point they prove is that the American

Moravians, still dazzled by Zinzendorf's "Church within the Church"

idea, compelled hundreds who longed to join their ranks as members to

remain outside the Church. In Germany this policy succeeded; in England,

where a State Church existed, it may have been excusable; but in

America, where a State Church was unknown, it was senseless and

suicidal.

And yet the American Moravians did not live entirely in vain. Amid the

fury of American politics, they cultivated the three Moravian fruits of

piety, education and missionary zeal. At Bethlehem they opened a Girls'

School; and so popular did that school become that one of the directors,

Jacob Van Vleck, had to issue a circular, stating that during the next

eighteen months no more applications from parents could be received.

It was one of the finest institutions in North America; and among the

thousands of scholars we find relatives of such famous American leaders

as Washington, Addison, Sumpter, Bayard, Livingstone and Roosevelt. At

Nazareth the Brethren had a school for boys, known as "Nazareth Hall."

If this school never served any other purpose, it certainly taught some

rising Americans the value of order and discipline. At meals the boys

had to sit in perfect silence; and when they wished to indicate their

wants, they did so, not by using their tongues, but by holding up the

hand or so many fingers. The school was divided into "rooms"; each

"room" contained only fifteen or eighteen pupils; these pupils were

under the constant supervision of a master; and this master, who was

generally a theological scholar, was the companion and spiritual adviser

of his charges. He joined in all their games, heard them sing their

hymns, and was with them when they swam in the "Deep Hole" in the

Bushkill River on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, when they gathered

nuts in the forests, and when they sledged in winter in the surrounding

country.

For foreign missions these American Brethren were equally enthusiastic.

They established a missionary society known as the "Society for

Propagating the Gospel Among the Brethren" (1787); they had that society

enrolled as a corporate body; they were granted by Congress a tract

of 4,000 acres in the Tuscawaras Valley; and they conducted a splendid

mission to the Indians in Georgia, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts,

Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Canada, Kansas and Arkansas.

But work of this kind was not enough to satisfy the American Brethren.

As the population increased around them they could not help feeling

that they ought to do more in their native land; and the yoke of German

authority galled them more and more. In their case there was some

excuse for rebellious feelings. If there is anything a genuine American

detests, it is being compelled to obey laws which he himself has not

helped to make; and that was the very position of the American Brethren.

In theory they were able to attend the General Synods; in fact, very

few could undertake so long a journey. At one Synod (1782) not a single

American Brother was present; and yet the decisions of the Synod were of

full force in America.

At length the Americans took the first step in the direction of Home

Rule. For forty-eight years their Provincial Synods had been attended

by ministers only; but now by special permission of the U.E.C., they

summoned a Provincial Synod at Lititz consisting of ministers and

deputies {1817.}. At this Synod they framed a number of petitions to be

laid before the next General Synod in Germany. They requested that the

monthly "speaking" should be abolished; that Brethren should be allowed

to serve in the army; that the American Provincial Helpers' Conference

should be allowed to make appointments without consulting the German

U.E.C.; that the congregations should be allowed to elect their own

committees without using the Lot; that all adult communicant members

should be entitled to a vote; that the use of the Lot should be

abolished in marriages, in applications for membership, and in the

election of deputies to the General Synod; and, finally, that at least

one member of the U.E.C. should know something about American affairs.

Thus did the Americans clear the way for Church reform. In Germany they

were regarded as dangerous radicals. They were accused of an unwholesome

desire for change. They designed, it was said, to pull down everything

old and set up something new. At the General Synod (1818) most of their

requests were refused; and the only point they gained was that the Lot

need not be used in marriages in town and country congregations. At the

very time when the Americans were growing more radical, the Germans, as

we have seen already, were growing more conservative.[154]

But the American Brethren were not disheartened. In addition to being

leaders in the cause of reform, they now became the leaders in the Home

Mission movement; and here they were twenty years before their British

Brethren. In 1835, in North Carolina, they founded a "Home Missionary

Society"; in 1844 they abolished the settlement system; in 1849 they

founded a general "Home Missionary Society"; in 1850 they founded a

monthly magazine, the Moravian Church Miscellany; in 1855 they founded

their weekly paper the Moravian, and placed all their Home Mission work

under a general Home Mission Board. Meanwhile, they had established

new congregations at Colored Church, in North Carolina (1822); Hope, in

Indiana (1830); Hopedale, in Pennsylvania (1837); Canal Dover, in Ohio

(1840); West Salem, in Illinois 1844; Enon, in Indiana (1846); West

Salem for Germans, in Edwards County (1848); Green Bay, in Wisconsin

(1850); Mount Bethell, in Caroll County (1851); New York (1851);

Ebenezer, in Wisconsin (1853); Brooklyn (1854); Utica, in Oneida County

(1854); Watertown, in Wisconsin (1854); and Lake Mills, in Wisconsin

(1856). At the very time when the British Moravians were forming their

first Home Mission Society, the Americans had founded fourteen new

congregations; and thus they had become the pioneers in every Moravian

onward movement.

But their greatest contribution to progress is still to be mentioned. Of

all the Provincial Synods held in America, the most important was that

which met at Bethlehem on May 2nd, 1855. As their Home Mission work had

extended so rapidly they now felt more keenly than ever how absurd it

was the American work should still be managed by a Directing Board in

Germany; and, therefore, they now laid down the proposal that American

affairs should be managed by an American Board, elected by an American

Provincial Synod {1855.}. In other words, the Americans demanded

independence in all American affairs. They wished, in future, to manage

their own concerns; they wished to make their own regulations at their

own Provincial Synods; they established an independent "Sustentation

Fund," and desired to have their own property; and therefore they

requested the U.E.C. to summon a General Synod at the first convenient

opportunity to consider their resolutions. Thus, step by step, the

American Moravians prepared the way for great changes. If these changes

are to be regarded as reforms, the American Moravians must have the

chief praise and glory. They were the pioneers in the Home Mission

movement; they were the staunchest advocates of democratic government;

they had long been the stoutest opponents of the Lot; and now they led

the way in the movement which ended in the separation of the Provinces.

In England their demand for Home Rule awakened a partial response; in

Germany it excited anger and alarm; and now Moravians all over the world

were waiting with some anxiety to see what verdict would be passed by

the next General Synod.[155]

CHAPTER VII. -- THE SEPARATION OF THE PROVINCES, 1857-1899.

As soon as the American demands became known in Germany, the German

Brethren were much disturbed in their minds; they feared that if

these demands were granted the unity of the Moravian Church would

be destroyed; and next year they met in a German Provincial Synod,

condemned the American proposals as unsound, and pathetically requested

the American Brethren to reconsider their position {1856.}. And now,

to make the excitement still keener, an anonymous writer, who called

himself "Forscher" (Inquirer), issued a pamphlet hotly attacking some

of the time-honoured institutions of the Church. He called his pamphlet,

"Die Brüderkirche: Was ist Wahrheit?" i.e., The Truth about the

Brethren's Church, and in his endeavour to tell the truth he penned some

stinging words. He asserted that far too much stress had been laid on

the "Chief Eldership of Christ"; he denounced the abuse of the Lot;

he declared that the Brethren's settlements were too exclusive; he

criticized Zinzendorf's "Church within the Church" idea; he condemned

the old "Diacony" system as an unholy alliance of the secular and the

sacred; and thus he described as sources of evil the very customs which

many Germans regarded as precious treasures. As this man was really John

Henry Buchner, he was, of course, a German in blood; but Buchner was

then a missionary in Jamaica, and thus his attack, like the American

demands, came from across the Atlantic. No wonder the German Brethren

were excited. No wonder they felt that a crisis in the Church had

arrived. For all loyal Moravians the question now was whether the

Moravian Church could stand the strain; and, in order to preserve the

true spirit of unity, some Brethren at Gnadenfeld prepared and issued

an "Appeal for United Prayer." "At this very time," they declared, "when

the Church is favoured with an unusual degree of outward prosperity,

the enemy of souls is striving to deal a blow at our spiritual union by

sowing among us the seeds of discord and confusion"; and therefore they

besought their Brethren--German, English and American alike--to banish

all feelings of irritation, and to join in prayer every Wednesday

evening for the unity and prosperity of the Brethren's Church.

At length, June 8th, 1857, the General Synod met at Herrnhut {1857.}.

In his opening sermon Bishop John Nitschmann struck the right note. He

reminded his Brethren of the rock from which they were hewn; he appealed

to the testimony of history; and he asserted that the testimony of

history was that the Moravian Church had been created, not by man, but

by God. "A word," he said, "never uttered before at a Brethren's Synod

has lately been heard among us--the word 'separation.' Separation

among Brethren! The very sound sends a pang to the heart of every true

Brother!" With that appeal ringing in their ears, the Brethren addressed

themselves to their difficult task; a committee was formed to examine

the American proposals; the spirit of love triumphed over the spirit of

discord; and finally, after much discussion, the new constitution was

framed.

If the unity of the Church was to be maintained, there must, of course,

still be one supreme authority; and, therefore the Brethren now decided

that henceforward the General Synod should be the supreme legislative,

and the U.E.C. the supreme administrative, body. But the constitution of

the General Synod was changed. It was partly an official and partly an

elected body. On the one hand, there were still a number of ex-officio

members; on the other a large majority of elected deputies. Thus the

General Synod was now composed of: (1) Ex-officio members: i.e., the

twelve members of the U.E.C.; all Bishops of the Church; one member of

the English and one of the American P.E.C.; the Secretarius Unitatis

Fratrum in Anglia; the administrators of the Church's estates

in Pennsylvania and North Carolina; the Director of the Warden's

Department; the Director of the Missions Department; the Unity's

Librarian. (2) Elected members: i.e., nine deputies from each of the

three Provinces, elected by the Synods of these Provinces. As these

twenty-seven deputies could be either ministers or laymen, it is clear

that the democratic principle was now given some encouragement; but, on

the other hand, the number of officials was still nearly as great as the

number of deputies. The functions of the General Synod were defined as

follows: (a) To determine the doctrines of the Church, i.e., to decide

all questions which may arise upon this subject. (b) To decide as to all

essential points of Liturgy. (c) To prescribe the fundamental rules of

order and discipline. (d) To determine what is required for membership

in the Church. (e) To nominate and appoint Bishops. (f) To manage the

Church's Foreign Missions and Educational Work. (g) To inspect the

Church's general finances. (h) To elect the U.E.C. (i) To form and

constitute General Synods, to fix the time and place of their meetings,

and establish the basis of their representation. (j) To settle

everything concerning the interests of the Moravian Church as a whole.

As the U.E.C. were elected by the General Synod, it was natural that

they should still possess a large share of administrative power; and

therefore they were now authorized to manage all concerns of a general

nature, to represent the Church in her dealings with the State, and with

other religious bodies, and to see that the principles and regulations

established by the General Synod were carried out in every department

of Church work. For the sake of efficiency the U.E.C. were divided into

three boards, the Educational, Financial, and Missionary; they managed,

in this way, the schools in Germany, the general finances, and the whole

of the foreign missions; and meanwhile, for legal reasons, they also

acted as P.E.C. for the German Province of the Church. Thus the first

part of the problem was solved, and the unity of the Moravian Church was

maintained.

The next task was to satisfy the American demand for Home Rule. For

this purpose the Brethren now resolved that each Province of the Church

should have its own property; that each Province should hold its own

Provincial Synod; and that each of the three Provincial Synods should

have power to make laws, provided these laws did not conflict with the

laws laid down by a General Synod. As the U.E.C. superintended the work

in Germany, there was no further need for a new arrangement there; but

in Great Britain and North America the Provincial Synod in each case was

empowered to elect its own P.E.C., and the P.E.C., when duly elected,

managed the affairs of the Province. They had the control of all

provincial property. They appointed ministers to their several posts;

they summoned Provincial Synods when they thought needful; and thus each

Province possessed Home Rule in all local affairs.