Luke, which gave me the least reason to suppose that their author had
recognized the real and corporeal presence of Jesus Christ in the
sacrament of the holy supper. The words of the institution, as related
by the first, Matt. 26:26, 27, 28, by the second, Mark, 14:22, 23, 24,
and by the third, Luke, 22:19, 20, reported with slight variations by
the three Evangelists, and which I took great pains to collate
and compare, conveyed no other idea than that of a _commemorative
ceremony_, designed to preserve and call to remembrance the
sufferings, the passion, and the death of Christ. In my then wretched
condition of unbelief, the magnitude, the sanctity, and the power of
the sacrament did not strike my mind; but, excepting that, I imbibed
from the consideration of these passages the views which I still hold.
So far, then, I had not discovered the doctrine of the real presence;
but I thought I _had_ indeed found it specifically established when I
read these words: "I am the living bread which came down from heaven:
if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever; and the bread
that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the
world. The Jews, therefore, strove among themselves, saying, How can
this man give his flesh to eat? Then Jesus said unto them, Verily,
verily, I say unto you, except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and
drink his blood, we have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh and
drinketh my blood, hath eternal life, and I will raise him up at the
last day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.
He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I
in him." John, 6:51-56. These words appeared to me to be undoubtedly
the foundation of the Romish faith on this head. I even thought that
the writer of them had the establishment of this doctrine especially
in view. At that moment I was tempted to stop, and to carry no further
my researches on a doctrine which I thought I had found clearly
set forth, but the absurdity of which had never appeared to me
so palpable. I then felt an utter disgust towards the Gospel;
nevertheless, internally spurred on by an invisible power, which was
then unknown to me, but which I now recognize to have been the Holy
Spirit, the author of all divine revelation; and attracted, as it
were, in spite of myself, by the Spirit of God, who graciously
purposed to teach me to appreciate, and in time to receive, the truth
of his word, I resumed my New Testament, which I had for a moment
thrown aside, and recommencing the perusal of the sixth chapter of St.
John, I read it to the end, which I had not done before.
When I reached the sixty-third verse, I was struck as by a flash of
light, which instantaneously discovered to me the mistake that I had
at first made in the meaning of the six verses transcribed above, and
imparted a new value to the Gospel. When I read "It is the Spirit that
quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing--the words that I speak unto
you, they are Spirit, and they are Life," John, 6:63, I had, as it
were, the key of the chapter, and no longer discerned in it the
doctrine of the real presence. I perceived that it in no way referred
to swallowing and digesting, with our corporeal organs, the body and
blood of Christ: I saw that the expressions of eating and drinking
were used figuratively, and that they really signified nothing
but knowing Christ, coming to him, and believing in him, as it is
explained in the thirty-fifth verse of the same chapter, where Jesus
Christ says, "I am the bread of life; he that cometh to me shall never
hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst."
It was, then, as clear to me as the day, that Jesus Christ used the
terms _eating_ and _drinking_ only in a spiritual manner; and (as I
now understand them) as referring to that faith, which, while it is
living and active in our hearts, unites us to him in an inexplicable
manner, and clothes us in his merits at the same time that it purifies
and sanctifies our views, our sentiments, and our desires. After
having thus discovered my error, I found myself more than ever
inclined to persevere in my reading, and to search and see whether the
doctrine of the real presence would not he better established in
the subsequent parts of the book. The further I advanced, my dear
children, the more reason I had to be convinced that neither Jesus nor
his apostles ever intended to convey such an idea. I should be too
tedious were I to point out to you all the passages which I found
expressly contradictory to this revolting tenet; it will be sufficient
to quote a few.
I found in the Acts, that the apostles saw Jesus Christ ascend on
high, carried upward by a cloud which concealed him from their sight,
and that two angels appeared and said unto them, "Men of Galilee, why
stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus which is taken up from
you into heaven, shall so come in _like manner_ as ye have seen him
go into heaven." Acts, 1:9, 11. "There never was a priest," said I,
"there never was a Roman Catholic, administering or receiving the
sacrament, that ever saw Christ descending from heaven, in this
manner, to enter into the bread. Nevertheless, the angels declared
that he should descend from heaven in the same manner as he went up
into heaven."
I found, in the same book, "that the heavens must receive Jesus Christ
till the time of the restitution of all things." Acts, 3:21. "He is
then," said I, "no longer corporeally on the earth." I found, in the
Epistle to the Colossians, that "Christ sitteth on the right hand of
God;" chap. 3:1; from whence I drew the inference that he certainly
cannot be actually present on so many altars, or in so great a number
of wafers, as the doctrine of the real presence necessarily supposes.
I found, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, chapters 9 and 10, the
strongest declarations, not only against the real presence, but
against the whole system of the mass, by which it is pretended daily
to renew the passion and sacrifice of our Saviour. When the apostle
says that "Christ is entered into heaven itself;" Heb. 9:24; when he
says that "unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time
without sin unto salvation;" ver. 28; lastly, when he says it is the
will of God to sanctify us "through the offering of the body of Jesus
Christ once made," chap. 10:10, and that "this man, after he had
offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down at the right hand of
God," ver. 12, having "by one offering perfected for ever them that
are sanctified," ver. 14, it appeared to me to prove, with the most
unanswerable evidence, that the doctrine of the real presence, and all
connected with it, was as far removed from the creed of the apostle as
the east is from the west, or as heaven from hell.
Finally, my dear children, the very words of the institution of the
Lord's Supper, related by St. Paul, 1 Cor. 11, and to which I paid
particular and repeated attention, did not leave a shadow of doubt on
my mind that the doctrine of the Romish church, on the subject of the
Eucharist, is utterly devoid of any foundation in the Gospel, and
must, consequently, have been derived from some other source. In fact,
all that our Saviour says on the occasion of instituting the Lord's
Supper, clearly shows that it was a _memorial of himself_ which he
established, and which he wished to leave behind him. After having
taken, blessed, and broken the bread, he commands that it should be
eaten _in remembrance of him._ Having given them the cup to drink, he
adds, "This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, _in remembrance_ of me." The
words, "this is my body--this cup is the New Testament in my blood,"
appeared to me only what they really are, figurative expressions,
signifying that the bread _represented_ his body, and the wine his
blood. These words do in no degree change or modify the principal
idea, that of _commemoration_, which runs throughout this action of
our Lord.
Had it even been possible that these words had deceived me; had
I taken them in their literal meaning, I should soon have been
undeceived by those which immediately follow, which in themselves
utterly overthrow the doctrine of the real presence, and the whole
system of the mass. These are the words: "As often as ye eat this
bread and drink this cup, ye do _show_ the Lord's death _till he
come."_ 1 Cor. 11:26. After this declaration, connected with so many
others, what further proof was wanting that St. Paul never believed
that the bread and wine contained the actual body of Christ? I clearly
saw that in this passage he meant that it is really bread we eat, and
wine we drink, in the sacrament, and not the actual body and blood
of the Son of God. I perceived that he taught that the Lord is not
actually present in that ceremony according to the sense of the Romish
church, because he distinctly says, "that by participating in it, we
do _show_ the Lord's death _till he come_"
In short, I was convinced that, according to St. Paul, it is not the
body and blood of Jesus Christ that the priests hold in their hands,
and which they offer as a sacrifice in the mass.
Here, my children, I suspended my researches, convinced, as much as
it is possible to be convinced of any thing, that the doctrine
of transubstantiation is not to be found in the New Testament. I
concluded that it must have the same origin as those of the papacy and
of purgatory.
Diverted as I had been from my usual occupation, during the time that
I had thus devoted to study and meditation; obliged to maintain myself
and you by the sweat of my brow, and having no other immediate subject
of perplexity, I returned to my daily labour, and discontinued the
perusal of the Gospel. My New Testament had certainly gained much in
my esteem; but without stopping to consider exactly in what way I
valued it, I think I may say that it was _not_ as containing the Word
of God, and the knowledge which is unto salvation.
Thus not being really or heartily interested in it, I replaced it a
second time on the spot it had so long occupied on the chimney-piece
of my room, and eighteen months or two years passed without my
thinking of consulting it anew.
During this period I married again: your tender age, and the care you
required, which my business and absence prevented my giving you, were
the motives which induced me to take this step. God in his fatherly
kindness mercifully directed my choice, though I had never thought of
asking him to do so; and you have found a second mother in her who has
ever been to me the most estimable and best of friends. During this
period also, I thought more of religion than ever before. Though I had
read the Gospel only to satisfy my curiosity on the three points of
doctrine that I have mentioned, and although my attention had been
exclusively directed to these points, it is probable, notwithstanding,
that I had almost unconsciously imbibed some of the impressions which
the word of God is calculated to produce, and that even then I was in
some measure under its secret influence. One thing I am sure of, that
from that time some idea of religion, although then comparatively
vague and confused, never left me; I frequently caught myself musing
on the origin of the universe, on the vicissitudes of nature, and on
the future condition of those numerous beings, who are seen for a
short time on the earth and then disappear. My own destiny, also,
frequently engaged my thoughts. But I was far from referring it to
Him, on whom I now see that it entirely depends. In all these thoughts
God was excluded from the place he ought to have held. With nothing
but false and uncertain notions of him, I was far indeed from
regarding him as the vivifying principle, which, to the eye of the
Christian, animates and embellishes every thing, and as that pure
light "which lighteth every man that cometh into the world."
I am bound to tell you, my children, what was the real state of my
soul at that time. I was in so deplorable a condition of blindness and
ignorance, that sometimes I thought there was no God, but that he was
an imaginary being; and sometimes confounding him with the works of
his almighty hands, I attributed divinity to the material world. "The
fool hath said in his heart, there is no God," and I dare not deny
that these words of David were for a long time, and even perhaps at
the period of which I am speaking, applicable to me. But while I
acknowledge that the natural corruption of my heart, and the bad books
I had read, were in part the causes of the sad state I have described,
I cannot help also attributing the greatest part of them to the
_abuses_, the _superstition_, and the _errors_ which disfigure
Christianity in the Romish church, and which had so disgusted me that
they had driven me into total infidelity.
Such, then, being in fact my religious state, you may well believe, my
children, that I was not happy; for it is impossible to be so without
trusting in God, who is the source of supreme good and true peace.
I was assiduous in my occupation; I frequented the society of my
friends; but, my heart empty and incessantly craving after something
which I could not obtain, was never content. My mind, restless and
agitated, could no where find an object to fix and satisfy it.
Listlessness followed me every where, and seemed to increase upon
me. O how unhappy, and how pitiable are those, who are, as was then,
without God, without Christ, without hope in the world!
I was in this wretched state when it pleased God to have pity upon me,
and to cause a ray of light to penetrate my mind. One evening, after
the labours of the day, instead of going as usual to the club which I
frequented, I went alone upon the public walk, where I remained till
the night was far advanced: the moon shone clear and bright: I had
never before been so struck by the magnificence of the heavens, and
I felt unusually disposed to reflection. "No," I said, (after
contemplating for a long time the impressive scene before me,) "no,
nature is not God," (for till then I had entertained this opinion,)
"God is certainly distinct from nature: in all this I can only
recognise a _work_ replete with harmony, order, and beauty. Although I
cannot perceive the Author, whose power, intelligence, and wisdom are
every where so strongly imprinted on it; still, both my reason and my
feeling combine to convince me of his existence."
This conclusion, which I sincerely adopted, was the result of the
reflections in which I had been that evening absorbed.
Some days after this, the examination of a watch, its springs, its
various wheels, and its motions, brought me afresh to the same
conclusion, and for ever confirmed me in the belief of a God, the
Creator of all things. "If this watch," I argued, "could not make
itself, and necessarily leads us to suppose an artist who made each
part, and so arranged the whole as to produce these movements--how
much stronger reasons have we for concluding that the universe has a
Contriver and Maker?"
I was no sooner fully satisfied of the existence of a God, than I
trembled at the thought of his attributes, and my relationship to him.
The sense of my unworthiness and sinfulness deeply affected me. When
I called to mind the many years I had passed in forgetfulness of
this great God; in indifference to, or in a culpable unbelief of
his existence; I felt that I must indeed be, in his sight, the most
ungrateful, and the most sinful of his creatures. My next feeling was
an anxious desire to amend my conduct, and I determined to lay down
such a plan for my future life, as I hoped might not be unworthy of
that Being whose eye I then felt was upon me. After having made many
efforts to recall the best maxims of wisdom and rules of virtue that
I had met with in the course of my reading, I at length came to a
resolution of examining what moral precepts the New Testament might
contain, and whether it might not afford me the rules I was seeking
for the regulation of my conduct.
This was the motive which brought me again to the New Testament, and
induced me to undertake a fourth time the perusal of it. I wish it
were in my power to recount to you, my dear children, all the effects
that the eternal word of God produced upon my heart; for from that
time I recognised it to be, what it is in fact, the revelation of
sovereign wisdom; the genuine expression of the Divine will; the
message of a tender and compassionate Father, addressed to his
ungrateful and rebellious children, soliciting them to return and find
happiness in him. I wish I could retrace all the impressions that this
divine message produced on my mind, the vivid emotions I experienced,
and the thoughts and feelings (never, I trust, to be forgotten)
excited by that reading.
I was like a man born blind, who should suddenly recover his sight in
a magnificent apartment, splendidly illuminated. My feelings at least
corresponded with those of a man under such circumstances, were they
possible. How glorious was the light of the Gospel to me! I sought for
morality, and I found _there_ the most simple, clear, complete, and
perfect system of morality that could be conceived; and _there_ I
found precepts suited to every circumstance that could present itself
in life, as a son, a brother, a father, a friend, a subject, a
servant, a labourer, a man, a reasonable creature: my duty in every
relation of life I there found inculcated in the most admirable
manner. I could not imagine one moral duty for which I did not there
find a precept; not one precept unaccompanied by a motive; and no
motive that did not appear to me to be dictated by reason, or enforced
by an authority against which I felt that I had nothing to object. I
observed two kinds of precepts which, though tending to the same end,
i.e. perfection, produced a different effect upon me. The _positive_
precepts presented to my mind an idea of the high degree of holiness
at which that man would arrive who could keep them without a single
violation. The _negative_ precepts, by leading me to a close
self-examination, impressed me with a deep sense of my corruption, and
convinced me that the authors of them must have possessed a profound
knowledge of the human heart in general, and of my heart individually.
"Who then," said I, "were the writers of this book?" And when I
reflected that they were poor, uneducated mechanics like myself,
the question immediately presented itself--how could fishermen,
tax-gatherers, and tent-makers, acquire such extraordinary sagacity,
penetration, wisdom, and knowledge? "Ah!" I exclaimed, "this is indeed
a problem, which can only be solved by admitting their own assertion,
that the Spirit of God directed their pens, and that all they wrote
was divinely inspired." Such, my children, was my conclusion after
this examination of the morality laid down in the Gospel.
Thus I recognised the divine origin of the New Testament, and took my
first step toward Christianity.
When I had once acknowledged the divine origin of the _morality_ of
the Gospel, reason and personal experience combined to convince me
of the truth and divine source of the _doctrines_ on which it was
founded.
"If God inspired the apostles, and enabled them to give to the world
the purest and most perfect system of morality that can be conceived,
is it to be supposed that in the remainder of their writings he would
leave them to themselves, and permit error or imposture to be mixed
and confounded with truth?" No: from the same source cannot proceed
sweet waters and bitter. As the moral precepts of the Gospel are
divinely inspired, so, likewise, _must_ be its doctrines. This
reasoning appeared to me incontrovertible, and I received with full
conviction the whole contents of the New Testament, as dictated by the
Spirit of truth.
From that time Jesus Christ, his history, his divine character, his
miracles, the end for which he came into the world, his sufferings and
death, attracted and absorbed my whole attention. At the account of
his passion, which, till then, I had read with indifference, my heart
was melted, and my eyes overflowed with tears. In short, I found
and felt such a suitableness between the wants of my sinful soul,
destitute as it was of all peace and comfort, and the work which the
Saviour had accomplished by his death on the cross, that I no longer
doubted that the promises of the Gospel were personally addressed to
me. I believed that Jesus Christ had offered himself a sacrifice for
me, to expiate my sins, and to reconcile me unto God; and from that
moment I have enjoyed an inward peace, the source of which I believe
to be faith in Christ alone--a peace which the world can neither give
nor take away, and which, as I myself have frequently experienced, is
alone able to support and strengthen us through all the sufferings and
afflictions of life.
In this manner you see how, a sinner and prodigal as I was, our
heavenly Father met me, and received me to the arms of his mercy; how
he made known to me his free grace and heavenly gift, of which I was
utterly unworthy. It is his grace that has accomplished all in me. He
it was who began, who carried on, and who, I trust, will perfect this
work of salvation.
Without his intervention, that is to say, without the aid of his
Spirit operating upon my heart, it never could have experienced a
_real_ conversion. To him also do I ascribe, with gratitude, my
admission into the protestant church, of which I have now the
privilege of being a member--as I shall proceed to tell you.
Having found, as I have already said, peace and joy in that word of
God which I had received with my whole heart, I immediately felt the
desire and the need of intercourse with gospel Christians; I was
convinced that such there were, because the Saviour had promised "that
the powers of hell should never prevail against his church." But not
finding them in the Roman Catholic church, which presented to me
nothing but a religion of tradition, equally degenerate in doctrine
and worship, I was greatly at a loss where to find the real Christians
for whom I was in search.
For the first time in my life the thought occurred, Is it possible
they may be among the protestants? But instantly I repelled an
idea which early prejudice had rendered revolting to me. In places
inhabited exclusively by Roman Catholics, where the doctrines and
worship of the protestant Christians are little known, the term
protestant is regarded by most as synonymous with heretic, blasphemer,
and reprobate. The people generally are imbued with these prejudices,
which are diligently kept up and disseminated by some among them, and
I myself was at that time too much under their influence to admit, at
once, that the protestants could be the true Christians for whom I was
seeking.
Soon, however, the thought returned; and as I reflected on that
declaration of St. Paul, "All that will live godly in Christ Jesus
shall suffer persecution," 2 Tim. 3:12, possibly, said I, these
protestants may be calumniated on the very ground of their religion
being more in accordance with the Gospel. Many other passages of
Scripture presented themselves to my mind, which led me to believe
that this supposition might be correct. I therefore determined to lose
no opportunity of clearing my doubts upon this point.
As there were no protestants either in our town or neighbourhood, whom
I could consult, I determined to write to the only one I knew; and
though but little acquainted with her, I ventured to request that I
might be apprised of, her pastor's next visit, signifying that I was
anxious to consult him on a subject of importance. Either she did not
understand my letter, or from some other motive, her answer, though
obliging was not satisfactory on that point which most interested me.
I waited patiently for some time, and applied myself diligently to
reading and meditating on the word of God, which had become like
necessary food to my soul. In all my prayers I entreated the Lord that
he would condescend to direct me to those true Christians of whom his
church was composed, and permit me to become one of their number. I
felt a confidence, from all that I had experienced, that my divine
Benefactor would grant my request whenever he saw it good for me; this
confidence quieted me, but could not remove my desire to ascertain
what the protestant religion really was.