For the last seven months we have been traveling over Kentucky, preaching incessantly, never less than a week at a place, very rarely more. We have not been an idle spectator of scenes, nor a careless observer of events. Previous to that time we had a minute and extensive acquaintance with the condition of the cause in Missouri. We hence feel prepared to speak of its prospects at least in these two States.
For awhile the shock occasioned by the disastrous and unhappy state of the country was great and alarming. Men of small faith in the presence of God and in the conservative uniting power of the truth ceased to work, and some even to hope. Predictions of ruin and dissolution of churches were loud and common. The vision of the longest sighted was short, and the future wore a threatening look. General distrust seized upon the public heart, and even the warmest friends grew cold and shy. Many had no courage to meet; and where any met at all, it was rather to mourn over and discuss other matters than to worship God with a whole, single heart. It is but just to add that where brethren felt that life, liberty, property, country—all, in a word, was at stake on the bad chances of war, it could hardly be expected in common reason to be otherwise. It will not do say that our zeal burned as steadily as ever before, and that we had only become more than usually excited in a different direction. The truth is even our zeal itself had positively depreciated in vital force. It was no longer the grand power it had been the thirty years before. It was still alive, but its life was the life of the still silent coal, rather than of the flashing vivid flame. Sadness brooded over every heart; and spirits were very low. Many felt as if the night of death would be a night of relief. Moderate and temperate counsels were despised, while he who preached love and peace and kindness amongst his brethren was set down as a traitor to his country. That some improvement has been made on this state of things in the last year cannot be denied; but it is deeply to be regretted that no radical cure can yet be announced.
How long this state of things will continue none can confidently say; but in the meantime it is a state which deserves to be closely watched. Satan is not idle now, nor his schemes without effect in our ranks. He will most certainly take advantage of this period of general mental dissipation, coldness, and tendency to diduction to work mischief. Indeed, he has already done it. Now is the time to hatch successful heresy, and to introduce illicit practices. Men will sometimes do strange things merely [223] to spite those whom they do not like, and resort to very unwarrantable courses to establish their right to do as they please. There is no danger, for example, in going to hear a mean sly sectarian preach because, for political reasons, we dislike to hear our own brother—none of course! none in taking our children with us—not at all! There is no danger in sectionalizing our Missionary Societies so that even excellent brethren may fall out over them and separate—certainly not! for division is right, and happy is he that causes it! But we shall not further particularize. In all this can the sagacious eye see nothing of the deep strategy of Satan? But what shall be done? and what is the line of duty which the present crisis suggests as the true one, and therefore, the safe one?
I. My first answer respects the kind of preaching demanded just at this time. Understand me reader. I do not mean that our preaching shall be either grand or simple, impassioned or calm. This is not what I mean. I speak not of manner, I speak of matter. Our preaching, then, should be pre-eminently and emphatically rudimental. The very seeds of truth and first lessons of the gospel are what we now need. Fill both mind and heart with these. If they salt not the soul and save it nothing else will.
II. Nothing could be of more service to us now than a little tough piquant controversy with our old hereditary foes—the sects. Some may doubt this. We are bold to think we know what we say when we thus speak. You never take your brother—s part half so quickly as when you hear an old enemy slandering him. A little pressure from this quarter just now would have a fine effect. Let no brother fear to provoke it. To see the old lance of John Smith and battle-blade of J. T. Johnson furbished up once more would gladden us to the heart. A little of the blood these grand old warriors used to draw would be no mean bond of union now.
III. We especially need in the field at this time a class of deeply pious, earnest, elementary, working preachers. We want a class of noble men, magnanimous fellows, with genial kindly hearts—men that can ignore petty differences of opinion, and give you a hand so warm, a look so kind, a grip so strong, as to send a thrill of joy to your heart—these are the men we want. We want men that shall hang the mantle of their sweet fluent love on every church where they minister; that shall impress all with their high Christian-bearing, and leave the very atmosphere where they move burdened with mercy and sympathy—men that shall go forth to weep over the weakness of frail humanity, to be gentle to the erring, and a source of deep comfort to the whole family of God.
IV. Above all, the work we now need is work to save our churches. These divided and in ruin, all is lost: these saved, all is safe. Every effort of the preacher’s soul and prayer of his heart should look to this. By the hopes of the future, and memories of the past; by the prayer of Jesus and the unity of truth, let our churches be besought to continue one. Let no work be held as subordinate to this. Let this be a chief, a constant work. [224]
[Volume I: December, 1863]