Religious Life.
With returning health and strength, I did not think of going back into
the world, but rather gave myself more fully to the purpose for which I
supposed that my life had been restored. I felt a thankfulness and joy
in my recovery, which confirmed me more and more in my determination to
live to the glory of God.
When I was able to return to the South, I did so by easy stages till I
got back to the neighbourhood of London; and there it was ordered that I
should be shut up for the remainder of the winter.
During this season of retirement, I spent my time most happily in
reading and prayer, and found great delight in this occupation. I was
able to say, with the Psalmist, "I love the Lord, because He has heard
my voice and my supplication;" and, like him, I could say, "I will call
upon Him as long as I live; I will walk before Him in the land of the
living; and I will take the cup of salvation and call upon the name of
the Lord." That is, in secret or private life; in social intercourse
with my fellow-men; and in the worship of the sanctuary, I will seek the
glory of God. I used to have much pleasure every day in asking God to
give me a deeper sense of His love, that I might unfeignedly thank Him,
and show forth His praise with my life as well as my lips.
All this, be it observed, was because God had saved not my soul, but my
life; for as yet I had not, like the Psalmist, felt any trouble about my
soul. I knew nothing of what he describes as the "sorrows of death and
the pains of hell." I had not been awakened by the Spirit to know the
danger and sorrow of being separated from God (which is spiritual
death). I was perfectly unconscious that between God and myself there
was the "impassable gulf" I have already referred to, and consequently I
had not experienced such overwhelming anxiety as made the Psalmist cry
out, "O Lord, I beseech Thee, deliver my soul." I knew nothing of the
necessity of passing from death to life, and therefore I could not say,
"The Lord has delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my
feet from falling."
The only thing I knew was that God was good to me, and therefore I loved
Him, and was thankful, not for the sake of getting His favour, but
because I thought I had it. I turned over a new leaf, and 'therewith
covered up the blotted page of my past life. On this new path I
endeavoured to walk as earnestly in a religious way, as I had before
lived in a worldly one.
This mistake into which I fell was natural enough and common as it is
natural; but for all this it was very serious, and might have been fatal
to me, as it has proved to multitudes. I did not see then, as I have
since that turning over a new leaf to cover the past, is not by any
means the same thing as turning back the old leaves, and getting them
washed in the blood of the Lamb.
I have said before that I did not know any better; nor was I likely to
see matters in a clearer light from the line of study in which I was
chiefly occupied. I was absorbed for the time, not so much in the Bible
as in the "Tracts for the Times"--a publication which was engaging much
attention. These Oxford tracts suited me exactly, and fitted my tone of
mind to a nicety. Their object was the restoration of the Church of
England from a cold, formal condition, into something like reality--from
a secular to a religious state; this also was my own present object for
myself. I read these writings with avidity, and formed from them certain
ecclesiastical proclivities which carried me on with renewed zeal.
I suppose I learned from the perusal of them to interpret the Bible by
the Prayer-book, and to regard the former as a book which no one could
understand without the interpretation of the Fathers. Certain it is,
that I did not look to the Bible, but to the Church, for teaching, for I
was led to consider that private judgment on the subject of Scripture
statements was very presumptuous. I got, moreover, into a legal state,
and thought my acceptance with God depended upon my works, and that His
future favour would result upon my faithfulness and attention to works
of righteousness which I was doing. This made me very diligent in
prayer, fasting, and almsdeeds; and I often sat and dreamed about the
works of mercy and devotion which I would do when I was permitted to go
out again.
Like persons in this state of mind, I also relied on ordinances, and was
subject to them. I took it for granted that I was a child of God,
because I had been baptized and brought into the Church; and having been
confirmed and admitted to the Lord's Table, I concluded that I was
safely on the way to Heaven. I see now the error of this very earnest
devotion, and that I was going about to establish my own righteousness
instead of submitting to the righteousness of God. I like to remember
these days and tell of them, not because I am proud of them-far
otherwise; but because they show the kind forbearance and patience of
God towards me, and, besides this, they give me a clearer idea of the
state of very many earnest people I meet with, who enter upon a
religious path in much the same way.
Such persons make the two mistakes already referred to. They start with
believing in their surrender of themselves, instead of God's acceptance
of it; and secondly, they make their continuance therein depend upon
their repeated acts of devotion. They live and walk by their own works,
not by faith in the finished work of Christ. What shall I say to these
things? Shall I denounce them as delusions, or superstitious legality?
No. I would far rather that people should be even thus religious than be
without religious observances--far rather that they should be subject to
the Prayer-book teaching than be the sport of their own vain imaginings.
If men have not given their hearts to God and received forgiveness of
sins, it is better that they should give themselves to a Church than
yield themselves to the world and its vanities.
If I had to go over the ground again under the same circumstances, I do
not think I could take a better path. Church teaching by itself, with
all its legalities, is superior to a man's own inventions; and the form
of godliness required by it, even without spiritual power, is better
than no form or profession of religion.
To say the least, Church teachings, when it is correctly followed,
instructs the conscience, restrains and guides the will, and imparts a
practical morality which we do not find in any other system. I have more
hope of people who rest in some distinctive and positive dogmas than of
those who merely deal with negations. The former may be reached by
spiritual teaching; the latter are but shadowy adversaries with whom it
is impossible to engage.
Therefore, when I see a man, for conscience towards God, giving up the
world, and taking up with reverential worship, with even superstitious
veneration for ecclesiastical things, because they are so--when I see a
man, who was careless before, become conscientious and true in all his
outward dealings, very particular in his observance of private and
public prayer, exercising self-denial, living for others rather than
himself, bearing and forbearing in all quietness and meekness--I cannot
do otherwise than admire him. This, surely, is far more lovely and
admirable than the opposite of these things.
Instead of joining in the outcry against such persons, I feel rather in
sympathy, and have a desire in my heart to win them to still better
things, and to show them "the way of God more perfectly." I feel that
they are stirred as I was, and are struggling in self-righteousness, not
because they wilfully prefer it to God's righteousness, but because they
are yearning for true and spiritual reality. They are in a transition
state, and the more restless they are, the more assured I am that they
will never attain real rest and satisfaction to their souls till they
have found God, and are found of Him in Christ Jesus.
But the question may be asked, "Is it possible for unsaved people
(spiritually dead) to be so good and religious? Is not such a state an
indication of spiritual vitality?" I answer, without hesitation, that it
is possible. Religion by itself, irrespective of the subject-matter of a
creed, may have a quieting and controlling effect upon the soul. The
Hindoo, the Moslem, the Jew, the Romanist, as well as the Protestant,
may each and all be wonderfully self-possessed, zealous, devout, or
teachable, or even all these together, and yet remain dead souls.
As a boy in India, I remember being greatly struck with the calmness of
the Hindoos, as contrasted with the impatience and angry spirit of the
English. On one occasion I observed one of the former at his devotions.
He, with others, had been carrying me about in a palankeen all day in
the hot sun. In the evening, he most reverently took from his girdle a
piece of mud of the sacred river Ganges, or Gunga, as they call it, and
dissolving this in water, he washed a piece of ground, then, having
washed his feet and hands, he stepped on this sacred spot, and began to
cook his food. While it was preparing, he was bowed to the ground, with
his face between his knees, worshipping towards the setting sun. A boy
who was standing by me said, "If you touch that man he will not eat his
dinner." In a thoughtless moment I did so with my hand, and immediately
he rose from his devotions; but, instead of threatening and swearing at
me, as some might have done who belong to another religion, he only
looked reproachfully, and said, "Ah, Master William!" and then emptying
out the rice which was on the fire, he began his ceremony all over
again. It was quite dark before he had finished his "poojah," or
worship, and his meal. This man's religious self-possession made a
greater impression on me than if he had abused or even struck me, for
hindering his dinner. I thought to myself, "I will be a Hindoo when I
grow up!" And truly I kept my word, though not in the same form; for
what else was I in my earnest, religious days!
This is an important question to settle, and, therefore, I will give
three examples from Scripture.
No one can doubt the zeal of Saul of Tarsus. This was no easy-going,
charitable creed, which supposes all good men are right. He was sure
that if he was right, as a natural consequence Stephen was wrong, even
blasphemous, and as such worthy of death. Therefore, he had no scruples
about instigating the death of such a one. Notwithstanding all this
uncompromising and straightforward religiousness, he needed to be
brought from death to life.
Again: look at Cornelius, who was "a devout man that feared God with all
his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway"
(Acts 10:2). There can be no mistake about this man with such a
testimony; and yet he also needed to hear words whereby he and all his
house should be saved (Acts 11:14). Next: Nicodemus, I suppose it will
be admitted, was an earnest and religious man. Evidently, he was one of
those who "believed in the name of Jesus, because he saw the miracles
which He did" (John 2:23). This man, humble and teachable as he was,
came to Jesus, and said, "Rabbi, we know that Thou art a teacher come
from God, for no man can do these miracles that Thou doest, except God
be with him." Yet he was told, "Except a man be born again, he cannot
see the kingdom of God." "Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be
born again" (John 3). As surely as all mankind are dead in Adam, so
surely every man needs spiritual life. In this respect it was no new
thing which the Lord Jesus propounded to Nicodemus. The spiritual change
of heart he referred to has always been the one condition of intercourse
with God. All God's saints, even in the Old Testament times, had
experienced 'this. Hence the Lord's exclamation, "Art thou a master of
Israel, and knowest not these things?"
It may be urged that these three men were not in the Christian
dispensation. Let this be granted; but the point at hand is that they
needed spiritual life, though they were such good religious men. It will
not be very hard to prove that even baptized men in the Christian
dispensation need to be raised from death unto life just as much as any
other children of Adam. It is clear, both from Scripture and experience,
that baptism, whatever else it imparts, does not give spiritual
vitality.
St. Peter's testimony is this, "Of a truth I perceive that God is no
respecter of persons; but in every nation he that feareth Him and
worketh righteousness is accepted with Him" (Acts 10: 34, 35). Accepted
to be saved, not because there is any merit in his works, but because
God sees that there is real sincerity in his living up to the light he
has. The heathen who know there is a God, and do not worship His as God,
are given over to idolatry (Rom.1); but, on the other hand, those who do
worship Him, and give Him thanks, are taken in hand to be guided into
life and truth. Therefore are we justified in hoping that earnest and
religious men, though they be dead, if their religion is really towards
God, will be brought to spiritual life.
It was a happy winter to me, however, notwithstanding my spiritual
deficiencies; and the recollection of it still abides in my memory. I
had now no desire for the world and its pleasures. My mind had quite
gone from such empty amusements and frivolities; even the taste I used
to have for these things was completely taken away.
I was happier now than ever I had been before, so that I am convinced
from personal experience that even a religious life may be one of joy,
though by no means so satisfying and abiding as a truly spiritual one. I
was happy, as I have already said, and longed for the time when I could
be ordained, and devote my energies to work for God in the ministry.