Aristophanes, were he alive now, I imagine, instead of aiming his wit at
the philosophers, would have a turn with the theologians. Theirs is the
real cloud-land. In spite of the inherent conservatism of human nature
in theology, you cannot keep up the old landmarks. Nay, such is the
perverseness of human nature, that the more you try to do so the less
chance there seems of your succeeding. To the reign of the Saints
succeeded the madness and the profligacy of the Restoration. Lord
Bolingbroke always said it was Dr. Manton's Commentary on the 119th
Psalm, which his mother, much against his inclination, compelled him to
read, which made an infidel of him. Holyoake, the leader of the
Secularists, was brought up in the Sunday School at Birmingham. Thomas
Cooper, the author of the 'Purgatory of Suicides,' was a Methodist local
preacher. William Johnson Fox, who has done as much as any man to
destroy orthodoxy in persons of intelligence and position in society, was
at one time pastor of an Independent church. Sterling was long a
clergyman of the Church of England, and poor Blanco White traversed every
point of the religious compass, earnestly seeking rest, and unfortunately
finding none.
Is there, then, no religious truth? Is man ever to be surrounded by
doubt--to be ever void of a living faith--from age to age to turn an
anxious eye above, and there see
'no God, no heaven, in the void world--
The wide, deep, lampless, grey, unpeopled world'?
Is it all dark cloud-land when we have done with this fever we call life?
Religion is man's attempt to answer this question. A church is an
attempt to answer it in a certain way. The true church is the church
which gives the true answer. But who is to decide? 'The Catholic and
Apostolic Church,' says one; 'the Bible,' says another. But, then, who
is to decide as to which is the Catholic and Apostolic Church, or as to
what the Bible says? In all these cases the final appeal must be made to
the intellect of man. But man's intellect grows with his growth, and
strengthens with his strength. I am not to-day, either in body or in
mind, what I was yesterday. To-morrow I shall be a different man again.
Changing myself, how can I subscribe an unchanging creed? 'Excelsior' is
my motto. I believe that
'through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widened by the process of the suns.'
And it is vain, therefore, that you seek to tie me to a creed, or to
stereotype what should be a growing faith. My aim is loyalty to my
conscience and God. Where they lead I follow.
In some such way, I imagine, has Mr. Forster, late pastor of the
Congregational chapel, Kentish Town, reasoned. Originally a minister in
Jersey, he was invited to the metropolis about twelve years since. At
that time he was an ardent Calvinist. The investigation which led him to
abandon unconditional election, the final perseverance of the saints, and
the special influence of the Holy Spirit, shattered the whole system of
opinions in which he had been educated, and which he had hitherto
faithfully upheld. Other changes followed. His views of the Trinity
were modified. The consequence was, when a new chapel was built for him,
in Kentish Town, it was agreed that all definition of God, Christ, and
the Holy Spirit, should be avoided, and that the clause, 'This place is
erected for the worship of God, as the Father, through the Son, and by
the Holy Spirit,' should be placed at the head of the deed.
After further investigation, Mr. Forster found that he could not even
subscribe to that--that he had ceased to regard Christ as a mediator at
all--and, consequently, he resigned the charge of a church, which, owing
to his labours, had become flourishing and great. Now his banner bears
the motto of 'Free Inquiry.' He preaches in a handsome chapel in Camden
Town. His church calls itself a Free Church. It promises to be a
successful one. It is well attended, though it has much to contend
against. The orthodox will not forgive Mr. Forster his desertion of
their camp; and the Unitarians, who, in their way, are often as
narrow-minded and dogmatic as the most orthodox themselves, cannot
exactly hold out the right hand of fellowship to a man who professes to
be free--who claims to know no master--whose appeal is to the law and to
the testimony, rather than to the doctrines and opinions of men.
Thus Mr. Forster gravitates, like Mahomet's coffin, between heaven and
earth. Yet his condition is by no means a rare one. That a large number
sympathise with him, the attendance at his chapel is convincing proof.
Coming out from the orthodox, he bears testimony against them. In his
farewell sermon to his Kentish Town congregation he says: 'How little
have the contents of the Bible to do with men's personal belief! How
seldom are men taught to rely on their own powers in the investigation of
the truth! How few are the Christians who sit at the feet of Jesus, or
frequent the apostolic college! If Dissenters have renounced the
infallibility of the Pope, have they not bowed their necks to a yoke
almost as heavy and galling? If they have given up the Thirty-nine
Articles, have they on that account conceded to each other the right of
judging all things for themselves? If the Trentine pandects are not
retained as the law of their religious faith and life, are they not bound
by the Institutes of Calvin, the Westminster Confession of Faith, the
Assembly's Catechism, the Minutes of Conference, and the Sermons of
Wesley--the creeds of chapel trust-deeds, the Congregational Union
Confession of Faith, or by the writings of Howe, Watts, Doddridge, Gill,
Fuller, Hall, Priestly, Watson, Channing, and of other great men, who
ought to be dear to their hearts, but not lords of their faith? Are we
not all of us more or less guilty of this servility? Have we not yet to
learn that there is no _via media_--no middle way between Reason and
Rome? There is, unhappily, floating over us an invisible and unexpressed
opinion, to which all, in the main, must agree. It hovers over the
pulpit and the pew; over the church and congregation; over the
professor's chair and the students' form; over the family and the school;
over the Bible and the Commentary. All thought, all sentiment, all
investigation, all conclusions, all teachings, are controlled by it. It
is this which checks free inquiry; shuts the mouths of those who have
convictions which fit not the Procrustes' bed, according to which all
opinions are to be shortened or stretched; makes hypocrites of those who
cannot afford to keep a conscience, or have not courage to brave the
consequences of honesty; turns the pulpit too often into the chair of
restraint, concealment, or compromise. Wherever this tyranny is obeyed,
there cannot be much depth of conviction, vitality of sentiment, growth
of knowledge, and improvement of religious life. If this principle were
applied to science, it would paralyse all the energies of investigation,
and make the wheels of progress stand still. If churches will not
respect individual liberty--will not let their ministers and members
investigate the Scriptures, and theology, the fruit of other men's
examination of the Scriptures, as fearlessly, impartially, and rigidly as
men inquire into Nature and the human results of searching into
Nature--such as astronomy, chemistry, and any other branch of
science--then it is the duty of every Christian, in God's name, and the
name of human nature, to resist the imposition. It may cost him friends,
income, reputation, station, and much which he highly values. He is
bound, at whatever sacrifice, to maintain his inborn and inalienable
freedom. In this way the yoke of the creeds would be broken. The
churches would be turned into the seats of liberty. A noble, manly piety
would grow up among us. The truth, whatever it is, would be discovered.
A new state of things would be instituted. Every man would be respected
as he rejected human authority over his conscience--refused to allow
uninspired men to make his creed as his furniture, his bread, or
books--tested all opinions by the light of his own reason--chose to give
an account of his convictions, or the use of his powers in obtaining his
convictions, to none but his Maker. Self-respect, love of truth,
reverence to God, benevolence to men, call upon us all to stand by our
native right and duty of searching into all truth contained in all
creeds, confessions of faith, catechisms, and all other documents,
whether human or divine. The obligation lies in our power of searching
into whatever concerns our moral culture, spiritual life, and religious
duty.'
Mr. Forster, in accordance with the sentiments here advocated, has left
the Congregational body with which he was connected, and has founded a
Free Church. Whether that church will answer the wants of our age, time
will prove. If the work be good, it will stand. If it be better than
old-fashioned sectarianism, it will remain. If it speak to the heart of
man, it cannot die. Mr. Forster has great qualifications for his task.
He is in the prime of life. His manner in the pulpit is pleasing. His
sermons evince careful preparation, and the possession of a considerable
amount of intellectual power. At times he rises into eloquence. Some of
his published sermons are inferior to none that have been published in
our time, and have been received well in quarters where, generally,
little favour is shown to the pulpit exercises of divines.
Though unwearied in the discharge of pastoral duties, Mr. Forster has
found time for other labours. Of the Temperance Reformation he has been
one of the ablest and most eloquent advocates, and often has Exeter Hall
reechoed his impassioned advocacy in its behalf. He carries abstinence
to an extent rare in this country, and abstains entirely from the use of
animal food. At one time he was an ardent member of the party of
Anti-State Churchmen, of which the late member for Rochdale is the glory
and defence. Latterly he seems to have mixed but little with that body.
We can well imagine that his time has been otherwise occupied--that his
situation must have been one of growing difficulty and danger--that the
claims, on the one side, of a church orthodox on all great questions, and
of truth and duty, or what seemed to him as such, on the other, must have
cost him many a weary day and sleepless night. That he burst his bonds
and became free--that he tore away the associations of a life--argues the
possession of honesty and conscientiousness, and fits him to be the
preacher of the free inquiry of which he has afforded so signal an
example in himself.