Front matter
After Fifty Years or Letters of a Grandfather on Occasion of the Jubilee of in 1893
By William Garden Blaikie, D.D., LL.D.
London, Edinburgh, and New York
Times of Old
MY task is somewhat like that of Æneas when he narrated to Queen Dido the ten years' siege of Troy and the fall of the city. It is to narrate the ten years' conflict in the Church of Scotland, followed by the Disruption, and the rise of the Free Church, now just fifty years ago. We have arrived at our year of jubilee, as the fiftieth year was called by the Jews; or rather, we are near the close of it. Presbyterians have generally been noted for loyalty; and in celebrating our jubilee we follow the example of the Queen, holding our commemoration not at the beginning but at the end of our fiftieth year.
As we do so, we see rising around us the third generation of the Free Church. May God bless them, and make them better men and women than any of the generations that have gone before! The third generation cannot know about the rise of their Church so well as the second, just as the second could hardly know so much about it as those who went through the campaign. But we have good reason to believe that they wish to know about it, and it is to meet their wish that these letters are written. The writer, as a Disruption minister, had his share in the fight. But he does not wish his story to be all about fighting. The fight was necessary at the time; but a more noble part of our story were all about a struggle to well as her conflict. She has used the trowel as well as the sword; she has built the wall and the temple as well as encountered the foe. Fighting is brilliant work, but building and reclaiming are useful work; and we should hardly think it worth while to tell the story of the one unless we had something to say, worth telling, of the other too.
In telling a story we should begin at the beginning. Well, I suppose the oldest beginning would be the introduction of Christianity into Scotland in the days of the Romans, about which, however, we know very little. Another beginning might be the age of St. Columba, the holy missionary from Ireland who settled in the little island of Iona in the sixth century, and with his companions and pupils originated a most beautiful and fruitful mission in Scotland, England, and many parts of the north of Europe. Their blessed influence continued for centuries; but at last the Columban Church, which had distinct scriptural features of its own, was absorbed in the all-devouring Church of Rome.
When the Columban Church passed away, we find little that is interesting in the religious history of Scotland till the dawn of the Reformation. You are familiar with the names of Patrick Hamilton and George Wishart, those young men of beautiful character and very pure life, who, after a short and brilliant career, were burned at St. Andrews, the one in 1528 and the other in 1546. Then you are more than familiar with the name of John Knox, of whom Carlyle has said, that it was he that woke the Scottish nation to life; and Froude, that he founded a nation while he reformed a church. Such eulogies make it ridiculous to talk of Knox as a monster in human form. He was one of those remarkable men in whom a warm heart and a sagacious eye are united to an inflexible will, and who work with an invincible determination to accomplish their object, in spite of every obstacle. Whatever were his faults, he had a profound love and regard for the message of divine grace in the gospel, and an un- quenchable desire that it should have free and undisturbed scope in Scotland, both as the means of salvation to individuals, and of strength, freedom, and prosperity to the nation. Knox regarded the Romish Church, which in Scotland had sunk lower than in almost any other country, as the greatest enemy of the gospel, and looking on its teaching and its practice as alike corrupt, nothing would satisfy him but to extirpate it, root and branch.
Another foe, too often, was the king. James I., his son Charles I., and his grandsons Charles II. and James II., strove hard to mould the Church according to their own likings. They had little or no sympathy with the Church as an instrument of saving and spiritual good, but thought of it more as a help to the government of the nation; and believing that if it were ruled by a few bishops instead of many presbyters it would be more amenable to their royal will, they once and again tried to uproot Presbyterianism, the old form of Church government, and force Episcopacy on the people. They had all of them a most extravagant idea of the prerogative of kings. It was mainly in opposition to their policy that the famous "Covenants" originated, and the struggles of the Covenanters. After long strife and much suffering and bloodshed, the Presbyterian Church was finally established in 1690 by King William III., under what is known as "the Revolution Settlement." The Covenanters have often suffered in reputation from an absurd practice—that of ascribing to the whole body the faults of a few. Fanatics and ruffians may not have been unknown among them, but these were exceptions; the great mass were undoubtedly sincere, and their history shows many a devout Christian, many a fearless hero, and many a noble martyr. Such names as Guthrie, Argyll, Peden, Richard Cameron, Donald Cargill, John Brown of Priesthill, and James Renwick will ever shine with a holy lustre; while their persecutors, Graham of Claverhouse, Sir George Mackenzie, Grierson of Lag, and the like, in spite of all efforts to whitewash them, will be always numbered among wicked and cruel men.
England and Scotland had had the same kings since 1603; but they were still separate countries, with separate parliaments. In 1707, however, they were united into one; and though many good men were opposed to the union, it is now acknowledged that it has done much for the peace and the material prosperity of Scotland. Unfortunately the union had hardly taken place when, in 1712, a serious change was made without due warning on a law relating to the Scottish Church. By this change the patronage, or right of choosing ministers in vacant congregations, was committed to a single individual, called the patron, usually the chief landowner, or one of the chief landowners, of the parish. It was from this most unfortunate law that nearly all the subsequent troubles and divisions in the Scottish Church arose. Virtually the people were obliged to take any minister that was given them; and where the new man was careless and the people earnest, the evil was intolerable. It was chiefly this bitter experience that gave rise to the Secession in 1733 and the Relief in 1752. You have probably heard the names of Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine, John Brown of Haddington, Ebenezer Brown of Inverkeithing, and other fathers of the Secession—earnest, eloquent, and very fervent preachers of the gospel; to whom Scotland owed a great debt when the light was fast fading and the glory departing from the Established Church.
For this was the time when the "Moderate" party rose to power. The professed object of this party was to keep down fanaticism and substitute moderation in the pulpit, to make men moral and respectable, to encourage learning and the literary spirit, and to soften the antagonism between the Church and the world, which the Evangelical spirit seemed to them needlessly to create. This party gave their very hearty support to the Patronage Act, believing that it would bring into the Church a body of more sensible, social, scholarly, and gentlemanly ministers than those whom the people would choose. These qualities seemed more important in the pastors of the Church than fidelity to the gospel message, and devout concern for the souls of the people. Before the end of the century, the Moderate party were quite in the ascendant, but flock after flock of the most earnest of the people had been driven out of the Church. But notwithstanding the repeated secessions, many holy ministers still continued in the communion of the Church—true representatives of the reformers and martyrs of other days.
And sometimes where there were two ministers for a congregation, the one would be a "Moderate" and the other an "Evangelical." There is a tradition that in one such case, the Moderate minister preaching in the forenoon said to his people, that virtue was so beautiful a thing that if a human being of perfect virtue were to appear among men they would fall down and worship him. In the afternoon the Evangelical colleague, possibly with a reference to the teaching of the morning, reminded his people that in the person of Jesus Christ perfect virtue did appear in human form; but instead of falling down and worshiping him, they cried out, "Away with him, away with him; crucify him, crucify him!"
You have heard of the Greyfriars' Church, Edinburgh—at all events of the Greyfriars' Churchyard, where in 1638 the Covenant was subscribed over a gravestone, subscribed with blood in some cases, and on the wall of which the Martyrs' Monument still stands. If we had entered that church about the end of last century, we should have heard Principal Robertson, the leader of the Moderates, preach one part of the day, and Dr. Erskine, the leader of the Evangelicals, the other. It was in this church that Sir Walter Scott was brought up; and in one of his novels, "Guy Mannering," he has given a very true portrait of Dr. Erskine and his preaching. Sir Walter did not attach himself to the Evangelical side, but he had a great respect for Dr. Erskine. His father, also Walter Scott, a Writer to the Signet, seems to have been in full sympathy with Dr. Erskine and his brethren. Among other things it was told of him, it is said that he was much distressed by the writings of Tom Paine, the popular infidel writer of the day, and that he procured a large supply of books written in opposition to him, which he diligently circulated wherever they seemed to be needed.
This anecdote occurs in "The Life of John Campbell," who was often called "Johnnie Campbell," from his insignificant appearance, or "Campbell the Traveller," because, when a minister in London, he was sent twice by the London Missionary Society to visit their stations in South Africa. Campbell's family occupied a pew near Mr. Scott's, and were thoroughly pervaded by the spirit of Erskine. His father died early; but he and his brothers were brought up by an uncle of such superior and consistent character that, Puritan though he was of the most rigid type, the young men were so impressed by his consistent example that they all followed in his steps. John Campbell, while yet a shopkeeper in the Grassmarket, was the founder in 1793 of the Tract Society of Scotland; he was also the originator of village Sunday schools, and one of the founders of the Magdalene Asylum, and of other benevolent Christian institutions. He was a genuine product of Dr. Erskine's preaching, touched with concern for others, self-sacrificing and unwearied in efforts to do them good. This was the true outcome of the Evangelical spirit. Principal Robertson and his friends had little or no sympathy with it; their principle was "to live and let live;" but where the Evangelical spirit prevailed, it roused men to be up and doing, if by any means they might save the lost.
The Evangelical Revival
IF you wish to see Moderatism painted by its own hand, read the autobiography of Dr. Alexander Carlyle of Inveresk. "Jupiter Carlyle," as he was commonly called, from his eminently tall and handsome person, was a "Moderate of the Moderates," one who gloried in the most extreme and offensive manifestations of the Moderate spirit. For himself, he used to say that one of the greatest services he had rendered to the Church was vindicating the right of ministers to frequent the theatre; and one of the chief benefits of the Church itself was that it had produced many good historians, philosophers, and lawyers. The fault of his picture is that it makes the Moderate party as a whole worse than the reality. Even David Hume, infidel though he was, seemed shocked at Carlyle's carelessness; and once, when he heard him preach, asked him what he meant by treating a Christian congregation to such pagan morality.
Moderatism was never popular except in the upper classes, and after a while even they began to get tired of it. It had no enthusiasm, no enterprise; and worse than that, it had no gospel for the sinner. The conscience even of careless men sometimes wakes up in the prospect of death; and when they ask for bread they are not satisfied with a stone. Many persons were leaving the Church; and under the preaching of "cauld morality," the state of morals, instead of improving, was manifestly becoming worse. But what gave by far its greatest impulse to the Evangelical party was the rise of Evangelical ministers with remarkable preaching gifts. Two of these have always held a conspicuous place among the champions of Evangelicalism. One was Dr. Andrew Thomson, who became the first minister of St. George's Church when the conspicuous building in Charlotte Square—with its dome like St. Paul's, London, on a smaller scale—was erected by the Edinburgh Town Council. Dr. Thomson was a preacher of remarkable eloquence and enthusiasm; he was a man of very attractive manners and character; a warrior, too, of intrepid spirit, whom nothing could daunt or frighten; and by universal consent he rendered inestimable service to the Evangelical cause. He was also a great musician, and two of his psalm tunes, Redemption and St. George's, Edinburgh, are occasionally sung at the present day.
But the man who helped the cause most was Dr. Chalmers. Born at Anstruther, in the East Neuk of Fife, educated at St. Andrews, and first settled at Kilmany, all in the same county, Chalmers seemed the most provincial of provincials, and to his dying day he never lost his strong Fifeshire accent. At first a Moderate of a very decided type, he underwent a striking conversion in the early years of his ministry; and, like St. Paul, he spent his life a most earnest advocate of what he had at first despised. After a few years he was translated to Glasgow, and in the pulpit there he reigned supreme. In fact, as a great pulpit orator, Chalmers had hardly a rival in all the country. When he preached or lectured in London, princes of the blood, statesmen, noblemen, and clergymen of distinction rushed to hear him; and while one and all expressed their disappointment at his uncouth accent and clumsy beginnings, they were uniformly arrested and overwhelmed as he went on, and pronounced the discourse one of the most masterly efforts of eloquence to which they had ever listened. Lord Jeffrey once declared that he could not conceive Demosthenes or Cicero to have spoken with more effect. To the Evangelical cause Dr. Chalmers gave all his weight in the pulpit; and in his efforts for the good of his parish and the city of Glasgow, he showed a combination of intense activity with an equally remarkable sagacity and practical turn of mind.
Meanwhile, patronage continued to prevail in the Church; and though patrons generally paid more regard to the people's wishes and appointed better men than before, instances of gross abuse were continually occurring. What was to be done? The Moderate party had been generally losing ground in the Church, and their opponents were steadily increasing in numbers. The question arose, Could not the Church herself do something to check the evils of patronage? An old law continued unrepealed, which required that the minister should have a "call" from the people before he was settled. This old regulation had been practically neglected and set at nought for a long time; but might it not be revived and made effective by the Church? In other words, might the Church not declare something in the way of consent by the people to be necessary before a minister could be settled?
This idea gave rise to what was called the "Veto" law. In 1834 the General Assembly passed a law that whenever a majority of male heads of families, being communicants, objected to a presentee, he should be set aside, and no steps taken toward his ordination. The Moderate party were strongly opposed to the "Veto;" but the Evangelicals had now obtained the majority in the General Assembly, and it was passed by 184 votes to 138. The law officers of the Crown had expressed their opinion that it was legally competent for the Church to pass it. The veto law remained in force for nine years, and during its existence the Church enjoyed much prosperity. The interest of the people in their ministers revived; and as patrons became more careful, the veto had to be put in force in but a very few cases. Other reforms were introduced into the Church: new life seemed to be breathed into her, and new activity was shown throughout all her borders.
With the growth of the Evangelical spirit the practical activity of the Church steadily increased. You are probably aware that it was in 1792 that the first steps were taken to form a society in England for promoting missions to the heathen. With that enterprise the name of Dr. William Carey is imperishably associated: a poor cobbler at first, in a Northamptonshire hamlet, but ultimately a missionary in India in connection with the Baptist Society, whose forty-three years' mission life, without a single visit home, elevated the name and cause of missions to a place of highest honour. Some friends of the cause of foreign missions endeavoured to draw from the General Assembly of 1796 an expression of approval and sympathy; but the majority of the Assembly dismissed the proposal, and a leading lay elder in great excitement stigmatized missionary societies as wicked and treasonable!
But twenty-nine years later a change had come over the spirit of the Assembly's dream. The rising spirit of Evangelicalism had raised the temperature of the Church; and in 1825 a committee was appointed to consider and report on the subject of missions. In 1829 the first missionary to the heathen sailed from our shores—a young Highlander from Perthshire, Alexander Duff. In 1835, his health having broken down, he returned to this country, and took the opportunity to explain his plans and advocate his mission. In an address of overwhelming eloquence delivered to the Assembly in 1835, which absolutely electrified the house, he elevated the cause of foreign missions by a single effort to a place it has never lost. Before the Assembly had moved in this direction, some friends of missions had formed a society, "the Scottish Missionary Society," under whose auspices another eminent missionary, Dr. Wilson of Bombay, had been sent to that Presidency. Dr. Wilson's name became as eminent as that of Dr. Duff, for he was a great scholar as well as a devoted missionary.
Besides the Foreign Mission scheme, other three schemes had been commenced by the Church before the Disruption in 1843. An Education Committee sought to provide schools where they were most needed over the country; for in those days there were no School Boards, and though each parish had a parish school, many parts of the country were in great destitution. There had also been just started a Colonial scheme in order to aid in finding ministers for Scotch settlers chiefly in Canada. The operations of these committees were on a small scale. Their incomes were small, but their work was very necessary and very useful. If the Church had been active, they would have been in operation long before.
The mission of the Church of Scotland to the Jews began in an interesting way. In 1839 four ministers were despatched, like Noah's winged messengers from the ark, to explore the world, and find out at what part of it a mission to the Jews might be most advantageously established. A very interesting account of their journey was written by Dr. Andrew A. Bonar, who, with Professor Black of Aberdeen, a famous linguist, Dr. Keith of St. Cyrus, the well-known writer on Prophecy, and the Rev. R. M. M'Cheyne, the saintly young preacher of Dundee, formed the deputation. Perhaps the most interesting branch of this mission, both in its origin and its efforts, was that established at Budapest, the capital of Hungary. On his way home, Dr. Keith, my uncle, had been seized with fever, and lay dangerously ill at one of the hotels. It happened that one of the inmates of the hotel, Miss Pardoe, a literary lady (author of "The City of the Sultan," and other books), was acquainted with the archduchess, Maria Dorothea (wife of the Palatine or Viceroy of Hungary, an Austrian archduke), and that in one of her visits to the palace she mentioned Dr. Keith's serious illness to her Imperial Highness. The archduchess, who was a Protestant (of the royal family of Würtemberg), had been longing for more light, and praying that some one might be sent to help her, and also to enable her to do some good to Hungary. She believed that the coming of the Scotch minister was the answer to her prayers; cared for him in his sickness, and on his recovery aided him in every way to establish a mission to the Jews. From the first, the Pest mission was a remarkable one. Its head was Dr. John Duncan, a profound Oriental scholar, afterwards well known as Professor of Oriental Languages in New College, as well as by his honourable sobriquet, "Rabbi" Duncan. Dr. Duncan's lectures in Budapest acquired great fame, and were attended by many persons of mark, both Jews and Roman Catholics. We shall have more to tell by-and-by of the history of this mission.
Perhaps, however, the movement that showed most effectually what new energy had been brought into the Church by the Evangelical revival, was Dr. Chalmers' proposal to build two hundred churches towards supplying the destitution caused by the great increase of the population. The very mention of a fund of £100,000, in addition to the local contributions in each place, took the breath out of people in those days, when they hardly understood the meaning of the verb "to give." Through the eloquence and enthusiasm of Dr. Chalmers, backed by like-hearted men over the country, the two hundred churches were built, and obtaining for the most part warm and lively ministers, were a great success. It was part of Dr. Chalmers' plan that these churches should be endowed from the public funds of the country, but all his efforts to accomplish this failed. Nobody understood in those days what the people were able to do for themselves.
I might dwell on many other tokens of the new life that became so manifest in the Church during the ten years between 1833 and 1843; but not to be tedious, I will mention but one more. For the first time for a century, the word "revival" became a household word. In several districts religious awakenings took place on a large scale, especially under the preaching of the Rev. W. C. Burns, who afterwards became so eminent a missionary in China, and whose biography by his brother, the late Rev. Dr. Islay Burns, is one of the most instructive missionary lives we have. It needs hardly to be said that these religious movements were regarded with deep interest by the Evangelical section, and with much suspicion, if not by all, at least by many on the other side. But they were tokens of a remarkable stirring among the dry bones; they seemed to herald the approach of a bountiful spring, and of much spiritual blessing throughout the Church.
In one word, the whole aspect of the Church for some years previous to the Disruption was hopeful and interesting. That she should be shattered at such a moment, with the sky so bright above her, seemed incredible. But terrible thunderbolts sometimes burst from a cloud no bigger than a man's hand. And so it was in 1843 in the Church of Scotland.
The Battle of the Veto
NOTWITHSTANDING the good results of the "Veto" Act and the satisfaction which it gave over the Church, wherever there was a right idea of what ministers ought to be, it was not allowed to work on in peace. At that time there were many persons who were very jealous of the new position which the people had recently acquired both in Church and State. In 1832 the Reform Act had been passed, giving a vote for members of Parliament to all householders paying ten pounds of rent; and some people thought that that would ruin the country. You must remember that before this the country was ruled by the gentry and rich people alone, and they were naturally though needlessly alarmed when a lower class came to share their power. Their alarm was only increased when in 1834 the Veto law acknowledged the right of the members of the Church to check the power of the patrons. It seemed to them as if a tide of Democracy had been set in motion that would destroy all order and subordination in the country.
Auchterarder is a country town in* Perthshire that spreads itself over the back of a somewhat bare ridge, and was well known to travellers between Edinburgh and Perth before the Forth Bridge enticed them to another route. In days of hand-loom weavers it had a considerable proportion of that class; and weavers, whether in Thrums or elsewhere, were not of the "dumb driven cattle" order. It now consisted of a general population, and it had a large and intelligent congregation. The patron of the parish was the Earl of Kinnoull, whom it pleased, without any regard to the wishes of the people, to present to the church a licentiate of the name of Robert Young. So unpopular was Mr. Young that only two men—Michael Tod and Peter Clark—signed his call; and when the veto came to be applied, no fewer than 287 male heads of families, com- municants, declared they would have none of him. The presbytery accordingly refused to take him "on trials." But this did not suit my Lord Kinnoull. He was determined to stand for his right as patron—his right to settle a minister for Michael Tod and Peter Clark in spite of the opposition of the rest of the people. So in conjunction with Mr. Young he went into the Court of Session and raised an action, the purpose of which was to declare that the General Assembly had no right to pass the Veto Act, and that the Presbytery of Auchterarder had no right to set aside Mr. Young on the ground that he was objected to by the people. The question was argued for many days at very great length. And when the decision came to be given, all the judges of the Court met in solemn conclave. One by one each of the thirteen read an elaborate paper expressing his views. The result was that eight gave their judgment against the legality of the Veto, and five for it. The five were undoubtedly among the ablest judges of the Court—Lord Glenlee, Lord Jeffrey, Lord Moncreiff, Lord Cockburn, and Lord Fullarton. The proceedings in connection with the case were published in two large volumes.
This judgment of the Court of Session was appealed to the House of Lords, and affirmed by them. An extraordinary speech was made by Lord Brougham. In his early days he was a great champion of the people; but now, as if possessed by the spirit of his granduncle, Principal Robertson, he declared that the call was the mere shadow of a form, and that the opposition of the people could have no more effect in preventing Mr. Young from being ordained to the charge than the backing of a champion's horse at a royal coronation would have in preventing the sovereign from being crowned. When the subject came before the Assembly in 1838, it declared by a majority that it would offer no objection to Mr. Young enjoying the living of Auchterarder. This was felt to be due to the law of the land as declared by the courts; but it passed a solemn resolution to the effect that the civil courts had no right to interfere (as they threatened to do) with the spiritual functions of the Church, or to compel it to ordain a minister; and that any such interference would be resisted as a fatal blow to the liberties of the Church.
So Lord Kinnoull and his presentee had to go back to the Court of Session, and there they got a decree requiring the Presbytery of Auchterarder to take Mr. Young "on trials" immediately, and ordain him if found qualified; and failing that, to pay him the nice little sum of £10,000. The Church continued to refuse. The House of Lords again affirmed the decision of the Court of Session; and the collision now became as complete as when two railway trains face each other on the same line of rails.
But meanwhile another case of the same kind occurred in a far-away presbytery—Strathbogie in Banffshire. A vacancy had taken place in the parish of Marnoch, and the patron had presented a most unpopular probationer, Mr. John Edwards, who had long been schoolmaster of the parish. The people knew him well. Only one parishioner signed the call—Peter Taylor, who kept a tavern in the adjacent village of Aberchirder, at which the presbytery at their meetings had been wo nt to refresh themselves. You will see the reason why the popular party were called "non-Intrusionists," or "the Nons:" it was because they refused to intrude ministers on reclaiming congregations. Marnoch was also a populous parish, and no fewer than 261 male heads of families signed the veto against Edwards. The difference between this case and that of Auchterarder arose from the fact that the majority of the ministers of the Presbytery of Strathbogie were of the Moderate section of the Church, while in the other case they were Evangelical. Accordingly, when placed between the civil courts and the Church, the majority of the Presbytery of Strathbogie obeyed the Court of Session, as the majority of Auchterarder obeyed the General Assembly. In accordance with the decision in the latter case, it was easy for Mr. Edwards, the presentee to Marnoch, to obtain an order from the Court of Session requiring the presbytery to make trial of his life, literature, and doctrine, and if these were satisfactory, to ordain him as nominally minister of Marnoch, but really minister of Peter Taylor. This order being presented to the presbytery, the majority agreed to do what the Court of Session required. But the Church interfered, and suspended the seven ministers who formed the majority, in order to deprive them of the power of ordaining. Nevertheless, suspended though they were, they went through the form. On a dreary winter day—21st January 1841—when the snow was lying deep on the ground, "the seven" met in the church of Marnoch. When the form of ordination was about to be gone through, a solemn protest was read on behalf of the parishioners against the right of the suspended ministers to call themselves the Presbytery of Strathbogie, and against the tyranny and hypocrisy of pretending to ordain Mr. John Edwards as minister of the parish. This done, the whole of the parishioners rose and left the church, carrying away their Bibles and Psalm-books from a building into which they could never enter again. A member of the presbytery was proceeding with the solemn office of ordination; but a tumult arose so uproarious on the part of the miscellaneous gathering in the church, who looked on the whole thing as a solemn farce, that nothing could be heard. Mr. Stronach of Ardmeallie, one of the protesters who had left, being a justice of the peace, was sent for by the helpless seven, who complained that the people of Marnoch were deforcing them, and claimed his protection as a magistrate in the discharge of their statutory duty. Mr. Stronach denied that a single parishioner of Marnoch was present, and challenged the seven to point out one. Not a single real parishioner could be found to be there. This having been made clear, Mr. Stronach counseled the people in the church to allow the ministers to finish their business, and addressing the moderator, called on him to go on and be as short as possible. And the solemn form of ordination was gone through. A shudder ran through the people in the church when, in answer to the question "Are not zeal for the honour of God, love to Christ, and desire of saving souls your great motives and chief inducements to enter into the office of the holy ministry, and not worldly motives and inducements?" Mr. Edwards deliberately answered, "Yes." He kneeled before the seven; they laid their hands on his head, and by a form of prayer set him apart in the name of the Lord Jesus for the ministry of a people of whom not a single soul was present, and who had solemnly protested against the whole business. When the Assembly met, it deposed the seven men who had performed this outrage in opposition to its authority.
The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.
Loading the full text…
The end
You’ve reached the end of After Fifty Years.
