Chapter II: Part 2

A second substitution for true holiness is _asceticism_: according to which system the unholy heart finds its refuge in a separation from ordinary men. Christianity carries holiness into life, asceticism takes the hermit out of it. But yet it is perfectly natural that men should seek such a refuge. When they feel the burden of sin, and experience the temptations of a surrounding world, it is no wonder that they should seek a remedy in a complete retirement from its influence. To give themselves up to fasting, penance, and solitary communion with God, must lead, they very naturally argue, to the enjoyment of more holy peace than they can hope to find in the midst of the duties and varied engagements of society. Hence every false faith has produced its devotees. Under different systems they have assumed a different character, but in all the principle is the same. The Hindoo separates himself from the world, and stands with his arm erect till it becomes stiffened into a fixed position; while the Buddhist and the Romanist retire to the convent that they may there withdraw from the world, and devote themselves wholly to spiritual exercises and to God. But though this is natural, it is a mere accommodation. The real evil of the human heart is not corrected by the change, nor have the hair shirt and the leathern girdle the slightest influence in controlling the corrupt passions of the nature. There may be as much pride, self-righteousness, and ill-governed temper in the lonely hermit’s cheerless cell, as in the deep current of the world’s society. At the same time it is an accommodation, for it employs the name of Christ, and gives the semblance of a very elevated piety. It adopts the language of devotion, and prescribes a course of action and self-denial. It gives the inquirer something to do, and something to bear; it separates him also from other men, and so, though his heart be not purified, it gives him the hope that he is holy. This was remarkably seen in the case of Ignatius Loyola. Like Luther, he was awakened to a deep sense of sin, and it is a remarkable fact that the two greatest phenomena of the sixteenth century, the Reformation, and Jesuitism, should have sprung out of the same uneasiness for sin. Luther found peace through the blood of the Lamb, and holiness in the work of the Spirit; Loyola was as much distressed as he, and failing in his discovery of Christ, he took refuge in the substitute of an ascetic life. He tore himself away from his kindred and father’s house, determining to undergo penances of the severest character, and to serve God in Jerusalem. He hung up his shield before an image of the Virgin, and, having clothed himself in coarse raiment, he stood before it for whole nights with his pilgrim’s staff in his hand. At Manresa he passed seven hours daily on his knees, and scourged himself regularly thrice a-day. He devoted three whole days to making a general confession for sin, but the more he explored the depths of his heart, the more painful were the doubts which assailed him. Having read in some of the fathers that God had been moved to compassion by a total abstinence from food, he remained from Sunday to Sunday without tasting anything, and at last only broke his fast in obedience to the positive injunctions of his confessor.

Such were the efforts of a master mind, to create for itself an artificial holiness, and such are the principles more or less involved in the whole system of the monasticism of Rome. It substitutes devotion of act, which withdraws men from their appointed sphere, for devotion of heart which glorifies God in its varied duties: and thus presents a spurious holiness within reach of unconverted minds.

IV. But the great root of the matter yet remains in the craving of the soul for _Reconciliation_.

That there is this craving none can deny. It is seen in all classes, in all nations. Buddhists, Hindoos, Mussulmen, Jews, Protestants, Romanists, and even Infidels, all bear testimony to a certain undefined longing after peace. Now this peace is given by the Gospel, in the free, full justification of the believer through the perfect atonement and imputed righteousness of the Lord. But in the practical application of it to the heart there arises this difficulty. Our safety depends on an invisible union with an invisible Redeemer. Faith is not a thing which can be seen and felt. It looks away from self to Christ, and disappears as soon as you look back on self to find it. Now if a man be enabled by the Holy Ghost to look simply to Christ, this difficulty vanishes through the all-sufficiency of the one object there presented to his view. But if, on the other hand, this faith be wanting, and the freedom of Divine grace remain unknown, the human heart at once makes an effort for some visible, tangible mode of laying hold of acceptance in Christ Jesus. The system, therefore, best accommodated to the natural man would be one which embraced all the rich promises of the Gospel, but connected them with something which could be said or done, so leaving men in no doubt as to their position.

Now this desire is exactly met by the Church of Rome. It presents its pardon in a tangible, visible form, and it leads the soul to rest for its assurance upon something safely done. The sin is confessed, the penance performed, the absolution pronounced, and there the matter ends. The guilty man has no further occasion to distress his mind upon the subject. The language of the catechism of the Council of Trent is very curious as illustrating the endeavour to connect pardon with a visible act. It first draws the distinction between the inward disposition of repentance and the outward act of penance, and adds, § 13, “That it is the outward penance in which the sacrament consists, and which contains certain external actions, which _are subjects of sense_ through which the inner feelings of the mind are manifest.” The next section explains the reason why the sacrament of penance is said to have been instituted, viz., to assure us of our pardon, for without it, “there must have been most anxious suspense of mind respecting _inward repentance_, since every man would have had good reason to doubt his own judgment in those things which he was doing.” To avoid this anxiety, therefore, the pardon is connected with a visible act. It is found, accordingly, in practical life, that the priest’s absolution is regarded by the Romanist in the same light as God’s forgiveness, and that, whatever be the state of heart, that visible act is deemed sufficient. Pat Burns, now a devoted Scripture Reader under the Irish Society, was for ten years the leader of a desperate gang of Ribbandmen, and he told a friend of mine that during that time he frequently went to the priest, paid him all dues regularly, and obtained absolution from time to time, as his conscience felt uneasy after the commission of crime; that the priest generally put a penance upon him, and that when it was performed, he considered himself as good a man as any other, and as fit for heaven. This same person added that the priest had never once directed him to the Word of God, or to the Lord Jesus for salvation.

The same connexion between confession and reconciliation was curiously illustrated by the following fact. The priest in my friend’s parish gave nothing during the late contribution towards Irish distress, but the poor creatures excused his penuriousness on the plea that it was unlucky to take a priest’s money—that a priest’s money being paid at confession and absolution, is the price of sin, and often comes from murderers and other bad characters, as the price of absolution and pardon; and if, therefore, you buy a horse with it, he will get lame; and if you buy seed corn it will be blighted.

I am perfectly aware that it may be justly argued that these facts among the people do not prove that the principle has been adopted by the Church; but I think it must also be admitted that they do show how exactly suited to the natural man is the connexion which Rome does assert between the pardon of sin and certain visible actions amongst men. God connects his pardon with a deep seated spiritual faith. The human heart says, “Let me do something. Let me work it out. Let me have some assurance that I am forgiven.” Popery steps in, and adapts its principles to both, asserting on the one hand the necessity of faith, but prescribing on the other a certain penance, and then sealing the whole with the priest’s absolution, so as to leave no doubt on the sinner’s mind. According to the language of a late pervert, the priest “shewed her how she must unite her sacrifice with the holy atoning blood of Christ, and then in his name pardoned and blessed her. Thus sin had not been suffered to remain upon her soul.” See how the Gospel was retained, and at the same time accommodated to the natural cravings of the anxious heart. The atoning blood was preached, but the act of penance received with it, so as to give it a tangible application.

But this accommodation fails in giving lasting peace. Nothing, in short, can really satisfy but the atoning blood of Christ _alone_, and to this failure may be traced the whole tissue of Romish rites. Penances, absolutions, masses, holy waters, holy pilgrimages, holy retreats, and, last of all, extreme unction, are nothing more than fresh efforts to satisfy the heart; and, though all be combined, they are all found insufficient. There are, we know, true believers, who, though trammelled by the system, yet rise above it to Christ; and there are others, again, whose conscience is so deadened that they live at ease in Zion; but for conscientious anxious souls the means are insufficient, and anxious fears keep rising up within the heart. From these remaining doubts has arisen the last crowning accommodation in the system, namely, purgatory.

In former days I used to wonder what could be the attraction of the doctrine of purgatory, more especially when I found that there was scarcely any portion of the system which persons embraced with equal readiness. It is said of it in the catechism of the Council of Trent, “Besides hell there is a fire of purgatory, in which the souls of the pious being tormented for a definite time, expiate their sin; that so an entrance may be opened to them into the eternal country, into which nothing defiled can enter.” Now it may be fairly asked from what principle in the human heart can such a decree have sprung? We can understand men cheerfully performing penance, and craving the absolution of the priest. But what can make a pious soul desire to be burnt up in purgatory? It is not merely a heavenly purification of the ransomed spirit to prepare it sweetly for the rich enjoyments of the kingdom, but it is a burning in the fire, and that, strange to say, is the peculiar privilege of pious souls. Can anything be more extraordinary? And yet, when you consider it, can anything be more simple? Just take the case of one of these anxious minds, of which we have been speaking. He has been going about to establish his own righteousness, but his heart is not holy. He has endeavoured to unite his sacrifice of penance with the atoning blood of Christ, and he has received the priest’s pardon, but yet sin remains. There it is, eating into his heart’s peace, and cleaving like a leprosy to his soul. And now death approaches, the delusions of the lower world begin to vanish, and then comes the question, Is sin forgiven? He has received his last viaticum. Still, is he safe? He has man’s absolution. Has he God’s pardon? He has performed his penance. Is sin fully expiated? Oh, that we could point him at once to the simple sufficiency of the Lamb’s most precious blood! But in default of that, what must be done? There must be a further accommodation of Christianity. The heart tells him that his own penance has been insufficient, so the work of expiation must be carried out beyond the grave. His conscience whispers that he is not yet prepared to die, so he clings readily to the hope that something may still be done, that complete preparation here on earth is not needful, for that an intermediate state is to follow, in which, though unprepared at his dying hour, he may yet be made meet for the kingdom of the saints.

Or take the case of another character, the man who has spent his life in neglect of God. In the day of health he has been occupied with the world’s interests, and been enabled to stave off the great question of his soul’s salvation. But now the great enemy is upon him, the day of account is near, and the Judge must be met in judgment. Under such circumstances, a man will give anything for time. If possible, time here; but if that is impossible, time hereafter: at all events, time. He will do anything to stave off the great decision,—he will grasp anything that postpones the necessity of preparation. From this mind arises the hope amongst all classes, of doing something for the dead. I was once charged myself with carelessness as to men’s salvation, because a certain dead body was not carried into the church at burial. “If,” said the woman, “you really believed that you saved souls by carrying the bodies into church, you would have taken him in as well as others.” Now the system of Popery has grown out of this anxious fear. It has met the fears of dying men, by giving a system to their ill-founded hopes. It has given the man who knows he is unprepared to die a resting-point beyond the grave. It has shifted the work of preparation to a world unseen and unknown, and so hushed the voice of conscience by assuring it that there still remains the hope of expiation for its sin. Purgatory, therefore, is the last stay for an unsatisfied heart. It gives the hope of pardon after death, and serves as a sedative for death-bed fears.

Thus, then, we have traced some few particulars of the Romish system to their hidden sources in the human heart, and have observed some of the many perversions and modifications which it has provided for the sinner, to assist him in the pursuit of peace.

“Oh, how unlike the complex works of man,
Heaven’s easy, artless, unencumbered plan!
No meretricious graces to beguile,
No clustering ornaments to clog the pile,
From ostentation, as from weakness, free,
It stands like the cerulean arch we see,
Majestic in its own simplicity.
Inscribed above the portal, from afar
Conspicuous as the brightness of a star,
Legible only by the light they give,
Stand the soul-quickening words, ‘BELIEVE AND LIVE!’”

Here, therefore, we may safely leave our argument; and we would make, in conclusion, one or two very simple practical remarks.

In the first place, then, we must never feel surprised at seeing amiable, excellent, and apparently religious men brought under the influence of Popery; for it has surely appeared to-night, that the characters most subject to its attraction are those who have felt the power of religious impression, but who have not been led by the Spirit to know the hallowed peace of saving grace. Those who are justified in Christ are at peace, and do not need it; those who are insensible to Divine things are at ease, and do not care for it; while the intermediate class, consisting of those who feel the necessity of the Gospel, but do not enjoy its grace,—they are the persons most open to an accommodated system, and most prepared for the reception of a spurious Christianity. Until a man has felt some perplexity, he has no desire to surrender his responsibility to another; nor until he has felt sin’s burden, does he care for the temporary relief which may be found from penance and absolution. And this explains the at first sight remarkable phenomenon of the rapid progress of Romish principles in latter years, notwithstanding the spread of evangelical truth, and the increased circulation of the Word of God. The preaching of the Cross disturbs more minds than it saves, and so drives the unconverted to have recourse to some substitute for the Gospel.

A second remark is, that we must never be astonished at the alliance often witnessed between Popery and Infidelity, for they spring from the same elements in the human heart. Unbelief and superstition appear, at first sight, to be directly opposed; but in their secret springs they are closely allied. They are two human remedies for the uneasiness of the human heart,—the one rejecting, the other accommodating the Gospel. And whenever the time shall arise, that the witnesses for Christ shall be called on once more to bear their cross for the name of Jesus, they must be prepared to encounter both in a confederate effort against the faith. In two particulars they agree, in one only they diverge. In their uneasiness under the influence of the Gospel, and in their rejection of its simple plan of life, they are one: the difference is only at the third stage, when the one rejects revelation, the other accommodates it to its will.

Lastly, we are surely taught that the one and only remedy for Popery and Popish tendencies is the free, sovereign, and unfettered grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. We may discuss the many questions arising out of the system, and overthrow the Romish advocate even on the ecclesiastical argument; but in so doing we only protect the outposts. If we would strike at the root of the evil, we must do it by setting forth at once the fulness and freedom of the salvation that is in Jesus. Let the doctrine of justification by faith be written on the heart by the Holy Ghost, and there will then be little fear from Popery. Let that one great fundamental truth be neglected and obscured, and the more earnest that we are in an awakening ministry, the more effectually do we prepare the way for Rome. In every point, then, let us meet Antichrist by exalting Christ. If men are harassed by perplexity, let us assure their faith by proclaiming Christ as revealed in Scripture. If men are craving after communion with God, let us set Christ before them as the sinner’s advocate. If they long for holiness, let us tell them of Christ as our wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption. If they seek justification, let Christ be honoured as the Lord their righteousness; and if they look for some further expiation of their in purgatory, let us still tell them of Christ, who “by one offering hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.” This is the weapon which Peter wielded on the day of Pentecost, and which burst the hold of the Popery of Judaism. This was the message with which St. Paul set at nought the rising Popery of Galatia. This was the mighty power which, in the days of the Reformation, shook Rome to her foundations; and this is the only name whereby the witnesses for Christ can ever look for victory, for they overcome, according to the scriptural record, “by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony.”

PRAYER TO BE USED AT THE MEETINGS OF THE ISLINGTON PROTESTANT INSTITUTE.

ALMIGHTY GOD, who hast built Thy Church upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone, and hast promised that the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it; we approach Thee in the name of Him who is the one Mediator, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

We praise and magnify Thy holy name for Thy distinguishing goodness towards us as inhabitants of this Christian land, and members of a Reformed and scriptural Church. [We adore Thy grace in that wonderful interposition of Thy Providence, by which our fathers were rescued from the yoke of superstitious bondage, and taught to serve Thee in spirit and in truth.]

But we confess that we have not rendered again according to the benefit we have received. We have neither prized nor improved our privileges as we ought. [We have sinned, and our fathers have sinned, and we have reason to fear lest there should be wrath upon us and upon our people, and lest Thou shouldest pour out the spirit of slumber and delusion upon us.] Yet Thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy. Remember not our offences, nor the offences of our forefathers. Turn us again, O Lord God of hosts; cause Thy face to shine, and we shall be saved.

Direct our hearts and minds by Thy Holy Spirit. Give us understanding of the times to know what we ought to do. Let Thy merciful help especially prevent and follow us as members of this Society. May we begin, continue, and end everything in Thee. [Let us not contend for names and words, but for Thy glory, and the truth of Thy Gospel.] Grant us a simple love of the truth, and an experimental acquaintance with it. [Let us not be “carried about with divers and strange doctrines,” but let our hearts be “established with grace.”]

And let us not only believe with the heart, but with the mouth make confession. With meekness of wisdom may we ever be ready to defend our principles and to protest against error. Let us unite holy zeal, boldness, and stedfastness, with a spirit of genuine charity. Grant us a right judgment in all things, Christian unanimity in our counsels, and perseverance in well-doing. [Keep us humble, depending entirely upon the promised grace and help of Thy Holy Spirit, and watchful, as those who are not ignorant of the devices of Satan.]

Raise up, we earnestly entreat Thee, champions for the truth; revive in our days the spirit of the martyrs and reformers of old. Spare to Thy Church those who are zealous for Thee. May the faithful never fail from among us, but let the rising youth be trained to walk in the good old paths.

And as Thou hast commanded prayers and intercessions to be made for all men, we beseech Thee for our sovereign lady, Queen Victoria, [that she may ever be mindful of the responsibilities of her office and the obligation of her oath. Bless abundantly] the Ministers of State. [Guide] and [govern] the senate of our land. [Strengthen and encourage those Protestant Representatives who are faithful to Thy cause; increase their influence, and add to their numbers. Pour out Thy Spirit upon all estates of the realm, the clergy and the laity, the rich and the poor. May they strive together, as members of one body, for the common faith. Let it please Thee to comfort and succour all oppressed Protestants, and confessors of the truth, enabling them to forgive their enemies, and to maintain their own stedfastness.] And very earnestly do we beseech Thee to bring into the way of truth all such as have erred and are deceived. Strengthen such as do stand, and raise up them that fall.

[Finally, we commend ourselves and the work of our hands unto Thee, entreating Thee to accept our persons and our services, not weighing our merits, but pardoning our offences; and so to overrule all events,—nay, even the errors and infirmities of Thy servants,—to the advancement of Thy glory, and the good of Thy Church, that truth and liberty, piety and peace, may be established among us to all generations.]

These and all other mercies we humbly beg in the name and mediation of JESUS CHRIST, our most blessed Lord and Saviour.

AMEN.

N.B. The passages within brackets may be omitted at discretion.

* * * * *

Macintosh, Printer, Great New-street, London.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

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The SCRIPTURAL PRINCIPLES of our PROTESTANT CHURCH. Second Edition. Price 3_s._

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The TIME of the END; or, The World, the Visible Church, and the People of God at the Advent of the Lord. Third Edition. Price 1_s._ 6_d._

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The COMMUNION and COMMUNICANT. A Practical Tract for Enquirers respecting the Lord’s Supper. Price 3_d._, or 2_s._ per dozen.

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