1.
Spurious Religious Feelings:
These passages give a melancholy account of the results of the great religious
excitement now under consideration. In the preceding estimate, Edwards does
not speak of those who were merely awakened, or who were for a time the subjects
of serious impressions, but of those who were regarded as converts. It is of
these, he says, that only a small portion proved to be genuine. If this be so,
it certainly proves that, apart from the errors and disorders universally
reprobated by the judicious friends of the revival, there were serious mistakes
committed by those friends themselves. If it was difficult then, it must be much
more so now, to detect the causes of the spurious excitement which then so
extensively prevailed. Two of these causes, however, are so obvious that they
can hardly fail to attract attention. These were laying too much stress on
feelings excited through the imagination, and allowing, and indeed encouraging
the free and loud manifestation of feeling during public or social worship.
It is one office of the imagination to recall and reconstruct conceptions of any object which affects the senses. It is by this faculty that we form mental images, or lively conceptions of the objects of sense. It is to this power that graphic descriptions of absent or imaginary scenes are addressed ; and it is by the agency of this faculty that oratory, for the most part, exerts its power over the feelings. That a very large portion of the emotions so strongly felt, and so openly expressed during this revival, arose not from spiritual apprehensions of divine truth, but from mere imaginations or mental images, is evident from two sources; first, from the descriptions given of the exercises themselves ; and, secondly, from the avowal of the propriety of this method of exciting feeling in connection with religious subjects. Had we no definite information as to this point, the general account of the effects of the preaching of Whitefield and others would satisfy us that, to a very great extent, the results were to be attributed to no supernatural influence, but to the natural powers of oratory. There is no subject so universally interesting as religion, and therefore there is none which can be made the cause of such general and powerful excitement; yet it cannot be doubted that had Whitefield selected any worthy object of benevolence or patriotism, he would have produced a great commotion in the public mind. When therefore he came to address men on a subject of infinite importance, of the deepest personal concern, we need not be surprised at the effects which he produced. The man who could thaw the icy propriety of Bolingbroke; who could extort gold from Franklin, though armed with a determination to give only copper; or set Hopkinson, for the time being, beside himself; might be expected to control at will the passions of the young, the ignorant, and the excitable. It is far from being denied or questioned that his preaching was, to an extraordinary degree, attended by a divine influence. That influence is needed to account for the repentance, faith, and holiness, which were in a multitude of cases the result of his ministrations. It is not needed, however, to account for the loud outcries, faintings, and bodily agitations which attended his course. These are sufficiently explained by his vivid descriptions of hell, of heaven, of Christ, and a future judgment, addressed to congregated thousands of excited and sympathizing hearers, accompanied by the most stirring appeals to the passions, and all delivered with consummate skill of voice and manner. It was under such preaching, the people, as he tells us, soon began to melt, to weep, to cry out, and to faint. That a large part of these results was to be attributed to natural causes, can hardly be doubted; yet who could discriminate between what was the work of the orator, and what was the work of the Spirit of God ? Who could tell whether the sorrow, the joy, and the love expressed and felt, were the result of lively imaginations, or of spiritual apprehensions of the truth ? The two classes of exercises were confounded; both passed for genuine, until bitter experience disclosed the mistake. It is evident that Whitefield had no opportunity of making any such discrimination; and that for the time at least, he regarded all meltings, all sorrowing, and all joy following his fervid preaching, as evidence of the divine presence. It is not, however, these general accounts so much as the more particular detail of the exercises of the subjects of this revival, which shows how much of the feeling then prevalent was due to the imagination. Thus Edwards speaks of those who had a lively picture in their minds of hell as a dreadful furnace, of Christ as one of glorious majesty and of a sweet and gracious aspect, or as of one hanging on the cross, and blood running from his wounds. Great stress was often laid upon these views of "an outward Christ," and upon the feeling resulting from such conceptions. Though Edwards was from the beginning fully aware that there was no true religion in such exercises; and though in his work on the Affections, written in 1746, he enters largely on the danger of delusion from this source, it is very evident that at this period he was not properly impressed with a sense of guarding against this evil. Just after stating how commonly such mental pictures were cherished by the people, he adds, “surely such things will not be wondered at by those who have observed, how any strong affections about temporal matters will excite lively ideas and pictures of different things in the mind.” In his sermon on the distinguishing marks of a work of the Spirit of God, he goes much further. He there says, “Such is our nature, that we cannot think of things invisible without some degree of imagination. I dare appeal to any man of the greatest powers of mind, whether he is able to fix his thoughts on God, or Christ, or the things of another world without imaginary ideas attending his meditation." By imaginary ideas, he means mental images, or pictures.” In the same connection, he adds, "the more engaged the mind is, and the more intense the contemplation and affection, still the more lively and strong will the imaginary idea ordinarily be." Hence, he insists, “that it is no argument that a work is not a work of the Spirit of God, that some who are the subjects of it, have been in a kind of ecstacy, wherein they have been carried beyond themselves, and have had their minds transported in a train of strong and pleasing imaginations, and a kind of visions, as though they were rapt up even to heaven, and there saw glorious sights."
It
is not to be denied that there is a legitimate use of the imagination in
religion. The Bible often addresses itself to this faculty. The descriptions
which it gives of the future glory of the church, and of heaven itself, are
little else than a series of images; not that we should conceive of the
millennium as of a time when the lion and lamb shall feed together, or of heaven
as a golden city, but that we may have a more lively impression of the absence
of all destructive passions, when Christ shall reign on earth, and that we may
learn to think of heaven as a state of surpassing glory. In all such cases, it
is the thought which the figure is meant to convey, and not the figure itself,
that the mind rests upon in all truly religious exercises. When, on the other
hand, the mind fixes on the image, and not upon the thought, and inflames itself
with these imaginations, the result is mere curious excitement. So far then as
the imagination is used to render the thoughts which the understanding forms
of spiritual things distinct and vivid, so far may it minister to our religious
improvement. But when it is made a mere chamber of imagery, in which the soul
alarms or delights itself with spectres, it becomes the source of all manner of
delusions.
It
may still further be admitted, that images borrowed from sensible objects
often mix with and disturb the truly spiritual contemplations of the
Christian, but this is very different from teaching that we cannot think of God,
or Christ, or spiritual subjects, without some pictorial representations of
them. If such is the constitution of our nature that we must have such imaginary
ideas of God himself, then we ought to have and to cherish them. But by the
definition, these ideas are nothing but the reproduction and varied combinations
of past impressions on the senses. To say, therefore, that we must have such
ideas of God, is to say that we must conceive of him and worship him under some
corporeal form, which is nothing but refined idolatry, and is as much forbidden
as the worship of stocks or stones. It certainly needs no argument to show that
we cannot form any pictorial representation of a spirit, and least of all, of
God ; or that such representations of Christ or heaven cannot be the source of
any truly religious affections. What have such mental images to do with the
apprehension of the evil of sin, of the beauty of holiness, of the mercy of God,
of the merits of Christ, or with any of those truths on which the mind acts when
under the influence of the Spirit of God?
From
the accounts of this revival already quoted, from the detail given of the
experience of many of its subjects, and especially from the arguments and
apologies just referred to, it is evident that one great source of the false
religion, which, it is admitted, then prevailed, was the countenance given to
these impressions on the imagination and to the feelings thus excited. It was
in vain to tell the people they must distinguish between what was imaginary and
what was spiritual; that there was no religion in these lively mental images,
when they were at the same time told that it was necessary they should have
them, and that the more intense the religious affection, the more vivid would
these pictures be. Under such instruction they would strive to form such
imaginations; they would doat on them, inflame themselves with them, and
consider the vividness of the image, and the violence of the consequent
emotion, as the measure of their religious attainment. How deeply sensible
Edwards became of the evil which actually arose from this source, may be learned
from his work on the Affections. When an “affection
arises from the imagination, and is built upon it, as its foundation, instead of
a spiritual illumination or discovery, then is the affection, however elevated,
worthless and vain.” And in another place he says, “When the Spirit of God
is poured out, to begin a glorious work, then the old Serpent, as fast as
possible, and by all means, introduces this bastard religion, and mingles it
with the true ; which has from time to time, brought all things into confusion.
The pernicious consequence of it is not easily imagined or conceived of, until
we see and are amazed with the awful effects of it, and the dismal desolation it
has made. If the revival of true religion be very great in its beginning, yet if
this bastard comes in, there is danger of its doing as Gideon's bastard,
Abimelech, did, who never left until he had slain all his threescore and ten
true‑born sons, excepting one, that was forced to flee. The imagination or
phantasy seems to be that wherein are formed all those delusions of Satan, which
those are carried away with, who are under the influence of false religion,
and counterfeit graces and affections. Here is the devil's grand lurking place,
the very nest of foul and delusive spirits."
If
Edwards, who was facile princeps among the friends of this revival, could, during its
early stages, fall into the error of countenancing the delusions which he
afterwards so severely condemned, what could be expected of Whitefield and
others, who at this time, (dates must not be neglected, a few years made a great
difference both in persons and things,) passed rapidly from place to place,
neither making nor being able to make, the least distinction between the
effects of an excited imagination, and the exercises of genuine religion? That
they would test the experience of their converts by its fruits, is not denied;
but that they considered all the commotions which attended their ministrations,
as proofs of the Spirit's presence, is evident from their indiscriminate
rejoicing over all such manifestations of feeling. These violent agitations
produced through the medium of the imagination, though sufficiently prevalent,
during the revival in this country, were perhaps still more frequent in England,
under the ministrations of Wesley, and, combined with certain peculiarities of
his system, have given to the religion of the Methodists its peculiar, and, so
far as it is peculiar, its undesirable characteristic.
2.
Outcryings, Faintings, Bodily Agitations, Etc.:
Another serious evil was the encouragement given to loud outcries, faintings,
and bodily agitations during the time of public worship. It is remarkable that
these effects of the excitement prevailed generally, not only in this country,
but also in Scotland and England. The fanatical portion of the friends of the
revival not only encouraged these exhibitions, but regarded them as proofs of
the presence and power of the Spirit of God. The more judicious never went to
this extreme, though most of them regarded them with favour. This was the case
with Whitefield, Edwards, and Blair.
The
manner in which Whitefield describes the scenes at Nottingham and Fagg's
Manor, and others of a similar character, shows that he did not disapprove of
these agitations. He says he never saw a more glorious sight, than when the
people were fainting all round him, and crying out in such a manner as to drown
his own voice. Edwards took them decidedly under his protection. He not only
mentions, without the slightest indication of disapprobation, that his church
was often filled with outcries, faintings, and convulsions, but takes great
pains to vindicate the revival from all objection on that account. Though such
effects were not, in his view, any decisive evidence of the kind of influence by
which they were produced, he contended that it was easy to account for their
being produced by a "right influence and a proper sense of things." He
says, ministers are not to be blamed for speaking of these things "as
probable tokens of God's presence, and arguments of the success of preaching,
because I think they are so indeed. I confess that when I see a great outcry in
a congregation, I rejoice in it much more than merely in an appearance of solemn
attention, and a show of affection by weeping. To rejoice that the work of God
is carried on calmly and without much ado, is in effect to rejoice that it is
carried on with less power, or that there is not so much of the influence of
God's Spirit." In the same connection he says, that when these outcries,
faintings, and other bodily effects attended the preaching of the truth, he did
not "scruple to speak of them, to rejoice in them, and bless God for
them," as probable tokens of his presence.
The
Boston ministers, on the other hand, appear to have disapproved of these things
entirely, as they mention their satisfaction that there had been little or
nothing of such " blemishes of the work" among their churches. The
same view was taken of them by President Dickinson, William Tennent, of
Freehold, and many others.
That
the fanatics, who regarded these bodily agitations and outcries as evidences
of conversion, committed a great and dangerous mistake, need not be argued ; and
that Edwards and others, who rejoiced over and encouraged them, as probable
tokens of the favour of God, fell into an error scarcely less injurious to
religion, will, at the present day, hardly be questioned. That such effects
frequently attend religious excitements is no proof that they proceed from a
good source. They may owe their origin to the corrupt, or at least merely
natural feelings, which always mingle, to a greater or less degree, with strong
religious exercises. It is a matter of great practical importance to learn what
is the true cause of these effects ; to ascertain whether they proceed from
those feelings which are produced by the Spirit of God, or from those which
arise from other sources. If the former, we ought to rejoice over them ; if the
latter, they ought to be repressed and discountenanced.
That
such bodily agitations owe their origin not to any divine influence, but to
natural causes, may be inferred from the fact that these latter are adequate to
their production. They are not confined to those persons whose subsequent
conduct proves them to be the subjects of the grace of God; but, to say the
least, are quite as frequently experienced by those who know nothing of true
religion.
Instead, therefore, of being referred to those feelings which are peculiar to
the people of God, they may safely be referred to those which are common to
them and to unrenewed men. Besides, such effects are not peculiar to what we
call revivals of religion; they have prevailed, in seasons of general
excitement, in all ages and in all parts of the world, among pagans, papists,
arid every sect of fanatics which has ever disgraced the Christian church. We
are, therefore, not called upon to regard such things with much favour, or to
look upon them as probable tokens of the presence of God. That the bodily
agitations attendant on revivals of religion are of the same nature, and
attributable to the same cause, as the convulsions of enthusiasts, is in the
highest degree probable, because they arise under the same circumstances, are
propagated by the same means, and cured by the same treatment. They arise in
seasons of great, and especially of general excitement; they, in a great
majority of cases, affect the ignorant rather than the enlightened, those in
whom the imagination predominates over the reason, and especially those who are
of a nervous temperament, rather than those of an opposite character. These
affections all propagate themselves by a kind of infection. This circumstance
is characteristic of this whole class of nervous diseases. Physicians enumerate
among the causes of epilepsy "seeing a person in convulsions." This
fact was so well known, that the Romans made a law, that if any one should be
seized with epilepsy during the meeting of the comitia, the assembly should be
immediately dissolved. This disease occurred so frequently in those exciting
meetings, and was propagated so rapidly, that it was called the morbus
comitialis. Among the enthusiasts who frequented the tomb of the Abbe Paris,
in the early part of the last century, convulsions were of frequent
occurrence, and never failed to prove infectious. During a religious celebration
in the church of Saint Roch, at Paris, a young lady was seized with convulsions,
and within half an hour between fifty and sixty were similarly affected. A
multitude of facts of the same kind might be adduced. Sometimes such affections
become epidemic, spreading over whole provinces. In the fifteenth century, a
violent nervous disease, attended with convulsions, and other analogous
symptoms, extended over a great part of Germany, especially affecting the
inmates of the convents. In the next century something of the same kind
prevailed extensively in the south of France. These affections were then
regarded as the result of demoniacal possessions, and in some instances,
multitudes of poor creatures were put to death as demoniacs.
The
bodily agitations attending the revival, were in like manner propagated by
infection. On their first appearance in Northampton, a few persons were seized
at an evening meeting, and while others looked on they soon became similarly
affected; even those who appear to have come merely out of curiosity did not
escape. The same thing was observable at Nottingham, Fagg's Manor, and other
places, under the preaching of Whitefield. It was no less obvious in Scotland.
It was exceedingly rare for any one to be thus affected in private; but in the
public meetings, when one person was seized, others soon caught the infection.
In England, where these affections were regarded at least at first, by Wesley,
as coming from God, and proofs of his favour, they were very violent, and spread
with great rapidity, seizing, at times, upon opposers as well as friends. Thus
on one occasion, it is stated, that a Quaker who was present at one meeting, and
inveighed against what he called the dissimulation of these creatures, caught
the contagious emotion himself, and even while he was biting his lips and
knitting his brows, dropt down as if he had been struck by lightning. “The
agony he was in," says Wesley, " was even terrible to behold; we
besought God not to lay folly to his charge, and he soon lifted up his head and
cried aloud, 'Now I know thou art a prophet of the Lord." On another
occasion, under the preaching of the Rev. Mr. Berridge, a man who had been
mocking and mimicking others in their convulsions, was himself seized. “He
was,” says the narrator, “the most horrible human figure I ever saw. His
large wig and hair were coal black, his face distorted beyond all description.
He roared incessantly, throwing and clapping his hands together with his whole
force. Some of his brother scoffers were calling for horsewhips, till they saw
him extended on his back at full length; they then said he was dead; and indeed
the only sign of life was the working of his breast, and the distortions of his
face, while the veins of his neck were swelled as if ready to burst. His agonies
lasted some hours; then his body and soul were eased.” "At another
meeting," he says, “a stranger who stood facing me, fell backward to the
wall, then forward on his knees, wringing his hands and roaring like a bull. His
face at first turned quite red, then almost black. He rose and ran against the
wall, till Mr. Keeling and another held him. He screamed out, ‘Oh ! what shall
I do ! what shall I do! oh, for one drop of the blood of Christ!’ As he spoke,
God set his soul at liberty; he knew his sins were blotted out; and the rapture
he was in seemed too great for human nature to bear." "One woman tore
up the ground with her hands, filling them with dust and with the hard trodden
grass, on which I saw her lie as one dead. Some continued long, as if they were
dead, but with a calm sweetness in their looks. I saw one who lay two or three
hours in the open air, and being then carried into the house, continued
insensible another hour, as if actually dead. The first sign of life she showed,
was a rapture of praise intermixed with a small joyous laughter." These
accounts, however, must be read in detail, in order to have any adequate
conception of the nature and extent of these dreadful nervous affections. Wesley
at one time regarded them as direct intimations of the approbation of God.
Preaching at Newgate, he says, he was led insensibly, and without any previous
design, to declare strongly and explicitly, that God willed all men to be saved,
and to pray that, if this was not the truth of God, he would not suffer the
blind to go out of the way; but if it was, he would bear witness to his word.
“Immediately one and another sunk to the earth ; they dropt on every
side as thunderstruck." "In the evening I was again pressed in spirit
to declare that Christ gave himself a ransom for all. And almost before we
called upon him to set to his seal, he answered. One was so wounded by the sword
of the Spirit, that you would have imagined she could not live a moment. But
immediately his abundant kindness was shown, and she loudly sang of his
righteousness."
The
various bodily exercises which attended the Western revivals in our own country,
in the early part of the present century, were of the same nature, and obeyed
precisely the same laws. They began with what was called the falling exercise;
that is, the person affected
would fall on the ground helpless as an infant. This was soon succeeded, in many
places, by a species of convulsions called the jerks. Sometimes it would affect
the whole body, jerking it violently from place to place, regardless of all
obstacles; at others, a single limb would be thus agitated. When the neck was
attacked, the head would be thrown backwards and forwards with the most fearful
rapidity. There were various other forms in which this disease manifested
itself, such as whirling, rolling, running, and jumping. These exercises were
evidently involuntary. They were highly infectious, and spread rapidly from
place to place; often seizing on mere spectators, and even upon those who
abhorred and dreaded them.
Another
characteristic of these affections, whether occurring among pagans, papists, or
protestants, and which goes to prove their identity, is, that they all yield to
the same treatment. As they arise from impressions on the nervous system through
the imagination, the remedy is addressed to the imagination. It consists in
removing the exciting causes, that is, withdrawing the patient from the scenes
and contemplations which produced the disease; or in making a strong counter-impression,
either through fear, shame, or sense of duty. The possessions, as they were
called, in the south of France, were put a stop to by the wisdom and firmness of
certain bishops, who insisted on the separation and seclusion of all the
affected. On another occasion, a strange nervous agitation, which had for some
time, to the great scandal of religion, seized periodically on all the members
of a convent, was arrested by the magistrates bringing up a company of soldiers,
and threatening with severe punishment the first who should manifest the least
symptom of the affection. The same method has often been successfully resorted
to. In like manner the convulsions attending revivals have been prevented or
arrested, by producing the conviction that they were wrong or disgraceful. They
hardly ever appeared, or at least continued, where they were not approved and
encouraged. In Northampton, where Edwards rejoiced over them, they were
abundant; in Boston, where they were regarded as "blemishes," they had
nothing of them. In Sutton, Massachusetts, they were “cautiously guarded
against,” and consequently never appeared, except among strangers from other
congregations. Only two or three cases occurred in Elizabethtown, under
President
Dickinson, who considered them as "irregular heats," and those few
were speedily regulated. There was nothing of the kind at Freehold, where
William Tennent set his face against all such manifestations of enthusiasm. On
the other hand, they followed Davenport and other fanatical preachers, almost
wherever they went. In Scotland, they were less encouraged than they were here,
and consequently prevailed less. In England, where Wesley regarded them as
certainly from God, they were fearful both as to frequency and violence. The
same thing was observed with regard to the agitations attending the Western
revivals. The physician already quoted, says: "Restraint often prevents a
paroxysm. For example, persons always attacked by this affection in churches
where it is encouraged, will be perfectly calm in churches where it is
discouraged, however affecting may be the service, and however great the mental
excitement." It is also worthy of consideration that these bodily
affections are of frequent occurrence at the present day, among those who
continue to desire and encourage them.
It
appears, then, that these nervous agitations are of frequent occurrence in all
times of strong excitement. It matters little whether the excitement arise from
superstition, fanaticism, or from the preaching of the truth. If the imagination
be strongly affected, the nervous system is very apt to be deranged, and
outcries, faintings, convulsions, and other hysterical symptoms, are the
consequence. That these effects are of the same nature, whatever may be the
remote cause, is plain, because the phenomena are the same ; the apparent
circumstances of their origin the same; they all have the same infectious
nature, and are all cured by the same means. They are, therefore, but different
forms of the same disease: and, whether they occur in a convent or a camp-meeting,
they are no more a token of the divine favour than hysteria or epilepsy.
It
may still be said, that, although they do sometimes arise from other causes,
they may be produced by genuine religious feeling. This, however, never can be
proved. The fact that undoubted Christians experience these effects, is no proof
that they flow from a good source; because there is always a corrupt mixture in
the exercises of the most spiritual men. These affections may, therefore, flow
from the concomitants of genuine religious feelings, and not from those feelings
themselves. And that they do in fact flow from that source, may be assumed,
because in other cases they certainly have that origin; and because all the
known effects of true religious feelings are of a different character. Those
apprehensions of truth which arise from divine illumination, do not affect the
imagination, but the moral emotions, which are very different in their nature
and effects from the feelings produced by a heated fancy. This view of the
subject is greatly confirmed by the consideration, that there is nothing in the
Bible to lead us to regard these bodily affections as the legitimate effects of
religious feeling. No such results followed the preaching of Christ, or his
apostles. We hear of no general outcries, faintings, convulsions, or ravings in
the assemblies which they addressed. The scriptural examples cited by the
apologists of these exhibitions are so entirely inapplicable, as to be of
themselves sufficient to show how little countenance is to be derived from the
Bible for such irregularities. Reference is made, for example, to the case of
the jailer at Philippi, who fell down at the apostles' feet; to Acts ii. 37,
("Now when they heard this, they were pricked in their heart, and said, Men
and brethren, what shall we do?") and to the conversion of Paul. It is,
however, too obvious to need remark, that in no one of these cases was either
the effect produced, or the circumstances attending its production, analogous
to the hysterical convulsions and outcries now under consideration.
The
testimony of the Scriptures is not merely negative on this subject. Their
authority is directly opposed to all such disorders. They direct that all things
should be done decently and in order. They teach us that God is not the God of
confusion, but of peace, in all the churches of the saints. These passages have
particular reference to the manner of conducting public worship. They forbid
every thing which is inconsistent with order, solemnity, and devout attention.
It is evident that loud outcries and convulsions are inconsistent with these
things, and therefore ought to be discouraged. They cannot come from God, for he
is not the author of confusion. The apology made in Corinth for the disorders
which Paul condemned, was precisely the same as that urged in defence of these
bodily agitations. We ought not to resist the Spirit of God, said the
Corinthians ; and so said all those who encouraged these convulsions. Paul's
answer was, that no influence which comes from God destroys our
self‑control. "The spirits of the prophets are subject to the
prophets." Even in the case of direct inspiration and revelation, the
mode of communication was in harmony with our rational nature, and left our
powers under the control of reason and the will. The man, therefore, who felt
the divine afflatus had no right to give way to it, under circumstances which
would produce noise and confusion. The prophets of God were not like the raving
Pythoness of the heathen temples; nor are the saints of God converted into
whirling dervishes by any influence of which he is the author. There can be
little doubt that Paul would have severely reprobated such scenes as frequently
occurred during the revival of which we are speaking. He would have said to the
people substantially, what he said to the Corinthians. If any unbeliever or
ignorant man come to your assemblies, and hear one shouting in ecstacy,
another howling in anguish; if he see some falling, some jumping, some lying in
convulsions, others in trances, will he not say, Ye are mad ? But if your
exercises are free from confusion, and your discourses addressed to the reason,
so as to convince and reprove, he will confess that God is among you of a truth.
Experience,
no less than Scripture, has set the seal of reprobation upon these bodily
agitations. If they are of the nature of an infectious nervous disease, it is as
much an act of infatuation to encourage them, as to endeavour to spread
epilepsy over the land. It is easy to excite such things, but when excited, it
is very difficult to suppress them, or to arrest their progress ; and they have
never prevailed without the most serious mischief. They bring discredit upon
religion, they give great advantage to infidels and gainsayers, and they
facilitate the progress of fanaticism. When sanctioned, the people delight in
them, as they do in all strong excitement. The multitude of spurious
conversions, the prevalence of false religion, the rapid progress of
fanaticism, and the consequent permanent declension of religion immediately
after the great revival, are probably to be attributed to the favour shown to
these bodily agitations, as much as to any one cause.
3.
Enthusiasm:
Besides the errors above specified, which were sanctioned by many of the best
friends of the revival, there were others which, though reprobated by the more
judicious, became, through the patronage of the more ardent, prolific sources of
evil. There was from the first a strong leaven of enthusiasm, manifesting itself
in the regard paid to impulses, inspirations, visions, and the pretended power
of discerning spirits. This was decidedly opposed by Edwards, by the Boston
clergy, by Tennent, and many others. Whitefield, on the contrary, was,
especially in the early part of his career, deeply infected with this leaven.
When he visited Northampton, in 1740, Edwards endeavoured to convince him of the
dangerous tendency of this enthusiastic spirit, but without much success.
He had such an idea of what the Scriptures mean by the guidance of the
Spirit, as to suppose that by suggestions, impressions, or sudden recollection
of texts of the Bible, the Christian's duty was divinely revealed, even as to
the minutest circumstance, and that at times even future events were thus made
known. On the strength of such an impression he did not hesitate publicly to
declare that his unborn child would prove to be a son. ”An unaccountable but
very strong impression,” that he should preach the gospel, was regarded as a
revelation of the purpose of God respecting him. The question whether he should
return to England was settled to his satisfaction, by the occurrence to his mind
of the passage, When Jesus was returned, the people gladly received him. These
few examples are enough to illustrate the point in hand.
In
Whitefield there was much to counteract the operation of this spirit, which in
others produced its legitimate effects. When Davenport was asked by the Boston
ministers the reason of any of his acts, his common reply was, God commanded me.
When asked whether
he was inspired, he answered, they might call it inspiration, or what they
pleased. The man who attended him he called his armour-bearer, because he was
led to take him as a follower, by opening on the story of Jonathan and his
armour-bearer. He considered it also as revealed, that he should convert as many
persons at a certain place, as Jonathan and his armour-bearer slew of the
Philistines.
This
was the only one of the forms in which this spirit manifested itself. Those
under its influence pretended to a power of discerning spirits, of deciding at
once who was and who was not converted; they professed a perfect assurance of
the favour of God, founded not upon scriptural evidence, but inward suggestion.
It is plain that when men thus give themselves up to the guidance of secret
impressions, and attribute divine authority to suggestions, impulses, and
casual occurrences, there is no extreme of error or folly to which they may not
be led. They are beyond the control of reason or the word of God. They have a
more direct and authoritative communication of the divine will than can be
made by any external and general revelation. They of course act as if inspired
and infallible. They are commonly filled with spiritual pride, and with a bitter
denunciatory spirit. All these results were soon manifested to a lamentable
extent during this revival. If an honest man doubted his conversion, he was
declared unconverted. If any one was filled with great joy, he was pronounced a
child of God. These enthusiasts paid great regard to visions and trances, and
would pretend in them to have seen heaven or hell, and particular persons in
the one or the other. They paid more attention to inward impressions than to
the word of God. They laid great stress on views of an outward Christ, as on a
throne, or upon the cross. If they did not feel a minister's preaching, they
maintained he was unconverted, or legal. They made light of all meetings in
which there was no external commotion. They had a remarkable haughtiness and
self-sufficiency, and a fierce and bitter spirit of zeal and censoriousness.
The
origin and progress of this fanatical spirit is one of the most instructive
portions of the history of this period. In 1726, a religious excitement
commenced in New Milford, Connecticut, which was at first of a promising
character, but was soon perverted. Its subjects opened a communication with
the enthusiasts of Rhode Island, and began to speak slightly of the Bible,
especially
of the Psalms of David, and to condemn the ministers of the gospel and civil
magistrates. They organized themselves into a separate society, and appointed
officers not only to conduct their meetings, but to regulate their dress. They
made assurance essential to faith; they undervalued human learning, and
despised the ordinances of baptism and the Lord's supper. They laid claim to
sinless perfection, and claimed that the standing ministers were unfit to
preach, and that the people ought to leave them. One of the leaders of this
company was a man named Ferris, who entered Yale College in 1729. A contemporary
writer says of this gentleman, He told me he was certain not one in ten of the
communicants in the church in New Haven could be saved ; that he should have a
higher seat in heaven than Moses; that he knew the will of God in all things,
and had not committed any sin for six years. He had a proud and haughty spirit,
and appeared greatly desirous of applause. He obtained a great ascendency over
certain of the students, especially Davenport, Wheelock, and Pomeroy, who
lived with him most familiarly. He remained in college until 1732, and then
returned to New Milford. He ultimately became a Quaker preacher.
Such
was the origin of that enthusiastical and fanatical spirit, which swept over the
New England churches. Messrs. Wheelock and Pomeroy seem soon to have escaped
from its influence ; but Davenport remained long under its power, and was the
cause of incalculable mischief. He was settled as pastor of the church in
Southhold, Long Island. In March, 1740, he became satisfied that God had
revealed to him that his kingdom was coming with great power, and that he had an
extraordinary call to labour for its advancement. He assembled his people on one
occasion, and addressed them, continuously, for nearly twenty-four hours;
until he became quite wild. After continuing for some time his exciting labours
in his own neighbourhood, he passed over into Connecticut. The best and most
favourable account of his erratic course, is given by the Rev. Mr. Fish, who
knew him intimately. The substance of this account, given nearly in the language
of its author, is as follows. The good things about him, says this writer, were,
that he was a fast friend of the doctrines of grace; fully declaring the total
depravity, the deplorable wretchedness and danger, and utter inability of men by
the fall. He preached with great earnestness the doctrines of man's dependence
on the sovereign mercy of God; of regeneration; of justification by faith,
&c. The things that were evidently and dreadfully wrong about him were, that
he not only gave full liberty to noise and outcries, but promoted them with all
his power. When these things prevailed among the people, accompanied with bodily
agitations, the good man pronounced them tokens of the presence of God. Those
who passed immediately from great distress to great joy, he declared, after
asking them a few questions, to be converts; though numbers of such converts, in
a short time, returned to their old way of living, and were as carnal, wicked,
and void of experience, as ever they were. He was a great favourer of visions,
trances, imaginations, and powerful impressions in others, and made such inward
feelings the rule of his own conduct in many respects. He greatly encouraged lay
exhorters, who were soon, in many cases, preferred by the people to the letter-learned
rabbies, scribes, pharisees, and unconverted ministers, phrases which the good
man would frequently use with such peculiar marks not only of odium, but of
indication, as served to destroy the confidence of the people in their
ministers. The worst thing, however, was his bold and daring enterprise of going
through the country to examine all the ministers in private, and then publicly
declaring his judgment of their spiritual state. This he did wherever he could
be admitted to examine them. Some that he examined, (though for aught that
appeared
as godly as himself.) were pronounced in his public prayer, immediately after
the examination, to be unconverted. Those who refused to be examined, were sure
to suffer the same fate. By this tremendous step many people, relying on his
judgment, were assured they had unconverted ministers; others became jealous
of their pastors; and all were told by this wild man, that they had as good eat
ratsbane as hear an unconverted minister. In his zeal to destroy idolatry, that
is, pride in dress, he prevailed upon a number of his followers in New London,
to cast into a fire, prepared for the purpose, each his idol. Whereupon some
article of dress, or some ornament, was by each stripped off and committed to
the flames. In like zeal to root out heresy, a number of religious books, some
of them of real excellence, were cast into the fire.
When
he visited Saybrook in August, 1741, he requested Mr. Hart to grant him the use
of his pulpit. Mr. Hart replied, that be wished to know, before he could decide
on his application, whether he had denounced many of his fathers and brethren in
the ministry as unconverted. He said he had, and that his object was the
purification of the church, and that he freely urged the people not to attend
the ministry of those whom he had thus judged. The pulpit was of course refused
him. He then rose and calling to his adherents, said, Come, let us go forth
without the camp, after the Lord Jesus, bearing his reproach. Oh this is
pleasant to suffer reproach for the blessed Jesus, sweet Jesus! How true to
nature this is! The man who was going about the country denouncing ministers,
and overturning congregations, complains of persecution, because a pastor shuts
his pulpit against him.
Mr.
Davenport went to Boston in June, 1742. He attended the morning service upon the
Sabbath, but in the afternoon absented himself "from an apprehension of the
minister's being unconverted, which," says Mr. Prince, "greatly
alarmed us." The following day the ministers had a friendly conference
with him, which led to their publishing a declaration testifying against his
depending on impulses, his condemning ministers, his going through the streets
singing, and his encouraging lay exhorters. This declaration was signed by
fourteen ministers of Boston and Charlestown. Mr. Davenport denounced the
pastors, naming some as unconverted, and representing the rest as Jehoshaphat in
Ahab's army, and exhorting the people to separate from them. This, adds Mr.
Prince, put an effectual stop to the revival.
The
same year he was arrested and taken before the legislature of Connecticut, on
the charge of disorderly conduct. The Assembly judged that although his
conduct had a tendency to disturb the peace, yet as "the said Davenport was
under the influence of enthusiastical impressions and impulses, and thereby
disordered in the rational faculties of his mind, he is rather to be pitied and
compassionated, than to be treated as otherwise he might be." They
therefore ordered that he should be transported out of the colony, and handed
over to his friends. The solution here given of Davenport's conduct, is
certainly the most charitable. That any young man should go about the country to
examine grey-headed ministers on their experience, denouncing such as would not
submit to his inquisition; declaring some of the best men in the church to be
unconverted ; exhorting the people to desert their ministry ; making religion to
consist in noisy excitement, and trampling on order and decency in the house of
God, can only be accounted for on the assumption of insanity or wickedness.
Davenport's subsequent retractions, his altered conduct, and the judgment of his
contemporaries, are all in favour of the former solution.
After
having pursued his disorderly and destructive course for a number of years, he
was convinced of his errors, and published a confession, in which he
acknowledged that he had been influenced by a false spirit in judging ministers;
in exhorting their people to forsake their ministry; in making impulses a rule
of conduct ; in encouraging lay exhorters; and in disorderly singing in the
streets. He speaks of the burning the books and clothes at New London, as matter
for deep and lasting humiliation, and prays that God would guard him from such
errors in future, and stop the progress of those who had been corrupted by his
word and example. This latter petition was not granted. He found it easy to
kindle the flame of fanaticism, but impossible to quench it. “When he came,”
says Mr. Fish, “to Stonington, after his recantation, it was with such a mild,
pleasant, meek, and humble spirit, broken and contrite, as I scarce ever saw
exceeded or equalled. He not only owned his fault in private, and in a most
Christian manner asked forgiveness of some ministers whom he had before treated
amiss, but in a large assembly made a public recantation of his errors and
mistakes.” This same writer informs us, however, that those who were ready to
adore him in the time of his false zeal, now denounced him as dead, as having
joined with the world and carnal ministers. The work of disorder and division,
therefore, went on, little hindered by Mr. Davenport's repentance; and the evils
continue to this day. Davenport afterwards removed to New Jersey, and settled at
Pennington, within the bounds of the Presbytery of New Brunswick. His remains
lie in a grave-yard attached to a small church, long since in ruins.
4.
Censoriousness:
The censorious spirit, which so extensively prevailed at this period, was
another of those fountains of bitter waters, which destroyed the health and
vigour of the church. That it should characterize such acknowledged fanatics as
Davenport and his associates, is what might be expected. It was, however, the
reproach and sin of far better men. Edwards stigmatizes it, as the worst disease
which attended the revival, "the most contrary to the spirit and rules of
Christianity, and of the worst consequences." The evil in question consists
in regarding and treating, on insufficient grounds, those who profess to be
Christians, as though they were hypocrites. The only adequate ground for
publicly discrediting such profession, is the denial of those doctrines which
the Bible teaches us are essential to true religion, or a course of conduct
incompatible with the Christian character. There are, indeed, cases where there
is no want of orthodoxy, and no irregularity of conduct, in which we cannot
avoid painful misgivings. But such misgivings are no sufficient ground on which
to found either public declarations, or public treatment of those who may be the
object of them. Does any one dare, on any such ground, to declare a man of
reputable character a thief, or a drunkard, or to surmise away the honour of a
virtuous woman? Such conduct is not only a sin against God, but a penal offence
against society. Yet in no such case is the pain inflicted, or the mischief
occasioned, comparable to what arises from taking from a minister his character
for piety, and teaching the people to regard him as a hypocrite. This is often
done, however, with heartless unconcern. It was by the dreadful prevalence of
this habit of censorious judging during the revival, that the confidence of the
people in their pastors was destroyed, their usefulness arrested, their
congregations divided, and the firebrands of jealousy and malice cast into every
society, and almost into every household. It was this, more than any thing else,
that produced that conflagration in which the graces, the peace, and union of
the church were consumed. Though this censorious spirit prevailed most among
those who had the least reason to think themselves better than others, it was to
a lamentable degree the failing of really good men.
It
is impossible to open the journals of Whitefield without being painfully struck,
on the one hand with the familiar confidence with which he speaks of his own
religious experience, and on the other with the carelessness with which he
pronounces others to be godly or graceless, on the slightest acquaintance or
report. Had these journals been the private record of his feelings and opinions,
this conduct would be hard to excuse; but as they were intended for the public,
and actually given to the world almost as soon as written, it constitutes a far
more serious offence. Thus he tells us, he called on a clergyman, (giving the
initials of his name, which, under the circumstances completely identified him,)
and was kindly received, but found "he had no experimental knowledge of the
new birth." Such intimations are slipped off, as though they were matters
of indifference. On equally slight grounds he passed judgment on whole classes
of men. After his rapid journey through New England, he published to the world
his apprehension "lest many, nay most that preach do not experimentally
know Christ." After being six days in Boston, he recorded his opinion,
derived from what he heard, that the state of Cambridge college for piety and
true godliness, was not better than that of the English universities, which he
elsewhere says, "were sunk into mere seminaries of paganism, Christ or
Christianity being scarce so much as named among them." Of Yale he
pronounces the same judgment, saying of it and Harvard, "their light is now
become darkness, darkness that maybe felt." A vindication of Harvard was
written by the Rev. Edward Wigglesworth, a man "so conspicuous for his
talents, and so exemplary for every Christian virtue," that he was
unanimously appointed the first Hollis professor of divinity in the college. The
President of Yale, at that time, was the Rev. Dr. Clap, an orthodox and learned
man, " exemplary for piety," and zealous for the truth. Whitefield was
much in the habit of speaking of ministers as being unconverted; so that the
consequence was, that in a country where "the preaching and conversation
of far the bigger part of the ministers were undeniably as became the gospel,
such a spirit of jealousy and evil surmising was raised by the influence and
example of a young foreigner, that perhaps there was not a single town,
"either in Massachusetts or Connecticut, in which many of the people were
not so prejudiced against their pastors, as to be rendered very unlikely to be
benefited by them. This is the testimony of men who had received Mr. Whitefield,
on his first visit with open arms. They add, that the effect of his preaching,
and of that of Mr. Tennent, was, that before he left New England, ministers were
commonly spoken of as Pharisees and unconverted. The fact is, Whitefield had, in
England, got into the habit of taking it for granted, that every minister was
unconverted, unless he had special evidence to the contrary. This is not to be
wondered at, since, according to all contemporaneous accounts, the great
majority of the episcopal clergy of that day did not profess to hold the
doctrines of grace, nor to believe in what Whitefield considered experimental
religion. There was, therefore, no great harm in taking for granted that men had
not, what they did not profess to have. When, however, he came to New England,
where the great majority of the ministers still continued to profess the faith
of their fathers, and laid claim to the character of experimental Christians
in Whitefield's own sense of the term, it was a great injustice to proceed on
the assumption that these claims were false, and take it for granted that all
were graceless who had not to him exhibited evidence to the contrary.
The
same excuse cannot be made for Mr. Tennent ; and as his character was more
impetuous, so his censures were more sweeping and his denunciations more
terrible than those of Whitefield. It has been already mentioned, that in 1740
he read a paper before the Synod of Philadelphia, to prove that many of his
brethren were "rotten-hearted hypocrites;" assigning reasons for that
belief, which would not have justified the exclusion of any private member
from the communion of the church. About the same time he published his famous
sermon on an unconverted ministry, which is one of the most terrible pieces of
denunciation in the English language. The picture there drawn, he afterwards
very clearly intimated, (what was indeed never doubted,) was intended for a
large portion of his own ministerial brethren. As, however, this conduct was
one of the main causes of the schism in the Presbyterian Church, which occurred
in 1741, it will more properly come under consideration in the following
chapter.
The great sinfulness of this censorious spirit, and his own offences in this respect, Mr. Tennent afterwards very penitently acknowledged. In a letter to President Dickinson, dated February 12, 1742, he says, "I have had many afflicting thoughts about the debates which have subsisted for some time in our Synod. I would to God the breach were healed, were it the will of the Almighty. As for my own part, wherein I have mismanaged in doing what I did, I do look upon it to be my duty, and should be willing to acknowledge it in the openest manner. I cannot justify the excessive heat of temper which has sometime appeared in my conduct. I have been of late, (since I returned from New England,) visited with much spiritual desertion and distresses of various kinds, coming in a thick and almost continual succession, which have given me a greater discovery of myself, than I think I ever had before. These things, with the trial of the Moravians, have given me a clear view of the danger of every thing which tends to enthusiasm and division in the visible church. I think that while the enthusiastical Moravians, and Long-Beards, or Pietists, are uniting their bodies, (no doubt to increase their strength, and render themselves more considerable,) it is a shame that the ministers, who are in the main of sound principles of religion, should be divided and quarrelling. Alas, for it, my soul is sick for these things! I wish that some scriptural healing methods could be fallen upon to put an end to these confusions. Some time since I felt a, disposition to fall upon my knees, if I had opportunity, to entreat them to be at peace. I add no more at present, but humble and hearty salutations ; and remain, with all due honour and respect, your poor worthless brother in the gospel ministry.
"P. S. I break open the letter myself, to add my thoughts about some extraordinary things in Mr. Davenport's conduct. As to his making his judgment about the internal state of persons, or their experience, a term of church fellowship, I believe it is unscriptural, and of awful tendency to rend and tear the church. It is bottomed upon a false base, viz.: That a certain and infallible knowledge of the good estate of men is attainable in this life from their experience. The practice is schismatical, inasmuch as it sets up a new terns of communion which Christ has not fixed.
"The
late method of setting up separate meetings upon the supposed unregeneracy of
pastors of places, is enthusiastical, proud, and schismatical. All that fear God
ought to oppose it, as a most dangerous engine to bring the churches into the
most damnable errors and confusions. The practice is built upon a two-fold false
hypothesis, viz.: Infallibility of knowledge, and that unconverted ministers
will be used as instruments of no good to the church.
"The
practice of openly exposing ministers who are supposed to be unconverted, in
public discourse, by particular application of such times and places, serves
only to provoke them, instead of any good, and to declare our own arrogance. It
is an unprecedented, divisial, and pernicious practice. It is lording it over
our brethren to a degree superior to what any prelate has pretended since the
coming of Christ, so far as I know, the pope only excepted ; though I really do
not remember to have read that the pope went on at this rate.
"The
sending out of unlearned men to teach others, upon the supposition of their
piety, in ordinary cases, seems to bring the ministry into contempt; to cherish
enthusiasm, and bring all into confusion. Whatever fair face it may have, it is
a most perverse practice. The practice of singing in the streets is a piece of
weakness and enthusiastical ostentation.
"I
wish you success, dear sir, in your journey; my soul is grieved for such
enthusiastical fooleries. They portend much mischief to the poor church of God,
if they be not seasonably checked. May your labours be blest for that end. I
must also express my abhorrence of all pretence to immediate inspiration, or
following immediate impulses, as an enthusiastical perilous ignis fatuus."
A
few years later, when the evils arising from the rash denunciation of
professing Christians and ministers had become more apparent, Mr. Tennent
protested against it in the strongest terms. "It is cruel and censorious
judging," he says, "to condemn the state of those we know not, and to
condemn positively and openly the spiritual state of such as are sound in
fundamental doctrines,
The extent to which the sin of censoriousness prevailed during this revival, may be inferred, not only from the complaints of those who were unrighteously condemned, but from the frequency with which it was testified against by the best friends of religion, and the confessions of those who had most grievously offended in this respect. One great evil of this spirit is, that it is contagious, and in a sense, hereditary. That is, there always will be men disposed to rake up the sins and errors of these pious denouncers; and on the score of these deformities, to proclaim themselves the Tennents and Whitefields of their own generation. If the fruit of the Spirit of God is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, then may we be sure that a proud, arrogant, denunciatory, self‑confident, and self-righteous spirit is not of God; and that any work which claims to be a revival of religion, and is characterized by such a spirit, is so far spurious and fanatical. All attempts to account for, or excuse such a temper on the ground of uncommon manifestations, or uncommon hatred of sin, or extraordinary zeal for holiness and the salvation of souls, are but apologies for sin. The clearer our apprehensions of God, the greater will be our reverence and humility; the more distinct our views of eternal things, the greater will be our solemnity and carefulness; the more we know of sin, of our own hearts, and of Jesus Christ, the more shall we be forbearing, forgiving, and lamblike, in our disposition and conduct. "Gracious affections do not tend to make men bold, noisy, and boisterous, but rather to speak trembling. When Ephraim spake trembling, he exalted himself in Israel." The evidence from Scripture is full and abundant, "that those who are truly gracious are under the government of the lamb‑like, dove‑like Spirit of Jesus Christ, and this is essentially and eminently the nature of the saving grace of the gospel, and the proper spirit of true Christianity. We may therefore undoubtedly determine that all truly Christian affections are attended with this spirit, that this is the natural tendency of the fear and hope, the sorrow and joy, the confidence and zeal of true Christians."
5.
Ecclesiastical Disorder:
Another of the evils of this period of excitement, was the disregard shown to
the common rules of ecclesiastical order, especially in the course pursued by
itinerant preachers and lay exhorters. With respect to the former, no one
complained of regularly ordained ministers acting the part of evangelists;
that is, of their going to destitute places, and preaching the gospel to those
who would not otherwise have an opportunity of hearing it. The thing complained
of was, that these itinerants came into parishes of settled ministers, and
without their knowledge, or against their wishes, insisted on preaching to the
people. This was a thing of very frequent, almost daily occurrence, and was a
fruitful source of heartburnings and divisions.
It
is the plain doctrine of the Scriptures and the common understanding of the
Christian church, that the pastoral relation is of divine appointment. Ministers
are commanded to take heed to the flocks over which the Holy Ghost has made them
overseers. If the Holy Ghost has made one man an overseer of a flock, what right
has another man to interfere with his charge? This relation not only imposes
duties, but it also confers rights. It imposes the duties of teaching and
governing; of watching for souls as those who must give an account. It confers
the right to claim obedience as spiritual instructers and governors. Hence the
people are commanded to obey them that have the rule over them, and to submit
themselves. They have indeed the right to select their pastor, but having
selected him, they are bound by the authority of God, to submit to him as such.
They have moreover, in extreme cases, the right to desert, or discard him ; as a
wife has in extreme cases, the right to leave her husband, or a child to
renounce the authority of a parent. But this cannot be done for slight reasons,
without offending God. In like manner, as a stranger has a right, in extreme
cases, to take a child from the control and instruction of a father, or withdraw
a wife from the authority and custody of her husband, so also there are cases,
in which he may interfere between a pastor and his people. Interference in any
one of these cases, is a violation of divinely recognized rights ; and to be
innocent, must, in every instance, have an adequate justification.
Mr.
Tennent admitted these principles to their fullest extent ; he justified his
conduct and that of his associates, on the ground that the ordinary rules of
ecclesiastical order cease to be obligatory in times of general declension.
When the majority of ministers are unconverted men, and contentedly unsuccessful
in their work, it was, he maintained, the right of any one who could, to preach
the gospel to their people, and the duty of the people to forsake the
ministrations of their pastors. Admitting the correctness of this principle,
when can it be properly applied? When may it be lawfully taken for granted, that
a minister is unconverted and unfit for his office ? According to Tennent's
own sober and deliberate judgment, this could be rightfully done only when he
either rejected some fundamental doctrine, or was immoral in his conduct. And
even when this was the case, the obviously correct course would be, to
endeavour to have him removed from office by a competent authority. Not until
this had been proved to be impossible, would any man be justified in trampling
upon the rights of a brother minister. The conduct of Mr. Tennent and that of
his associates, cannot stand the test of his own principles. They not only made
no effort to have those ministers removed from office, whom they regarded as
unregenerate or unfaithful, but they chose to assume them to be unconverted, and
on the ground of that assumption, to enter their congregations, and to exhort
the people to forsake their ministry, though they admitted them to be sound in
all the main articles of religion, and regular in their lives. This disorderly
course was, in many cases, productive of shameful conflicts, and was in general
one of the most crying evils of the times.
Whitefield
far out-did Mr. Tennent, as to this point. He admitted none of the principles
which Mr. Tennent believed, in ordinary times, ought to be held sacred. He
assumed the right, in virtue of his ordination, to preach the gospel wherever he
had an opportunity, "even though it should be in a place where officers
were already settled, and the gospel was fully and faithfully preached. This, I
humbly apprehend," he adds, "is every gospel minister's indisputable
privilege." It mattered not whether the pastors who thus fully and
faithfully preached the gospel, were willing to consent to the intrusion of the
itinerant evangelist or not. "If pulpits should be shut," he says,
"blessed be God, the fields are open, and I can go without the camp,
bearing the Redeemer's reproach. This I glory in; believing if I suffer for it,
I suffer for righteousness' sake." If Whitefield had the right here
claimed, then of course Davenport had it, and so every fanatic and errorist has
it. This doctrine is entirely inconsistent with what the Bible teaches of the
nature of the pastoral relation, and with every form of ecclesiastical
government, episcopal, presbyterian, or congregational. Whatever plausible
pretences may be urged in its favour, it has never been acted upon without
producing the greatest practical evils.
As soon as this
habit of itinerant preaching within the bounds of settled congregations, began
to prevail, it excited a lively opposition. The Synod of Philadelphia twice
unanimously resolved that no minister should preach in any congregation without
the consent of the presbytery to which the congregation belonged. As soon,
however, as the revival fairly commenced, Mr. Tennent and his associates refused
to be bound by the rule; and, for the sake of peace, it was given up. The
legislature of Connecticut made it penal for and minister to preach within the
bounds of the parish of another minister, unless duly invited by the pastor and
people.
The
General Association of Connecticut, in 1742, after giving thanks for the
revival, bear their testimony against "ministers disorderly intruding
into other ministers' parishes." The convention of ministers of
Massachusetts, in 1743, declared this kind of itinerant preaching, "without
the knowledge, or against the leave of settled pastors," to be "a
breach of order, and contrary to the Scriptures, and the sentiments of our
fathers, expressed in their Platform of Church Discipline." And the
assembly of pastors held at Boston, July, 1743, in their testimony in behalf of
the revival, express it as their judgment "that ministers do not invade the
province of others, and, in ordinary cases, preach in another's parish, without
his knowledge and consent." Notwithstanding this general concurrence among
the friends of religion, in condemning this disorderly practice, it prevailed
to a great extent, and resulted in dividing congregations, unsettling ministers,
and introducing endless contentions and confusion.
As
to lay preaching, though of frequent occurrence, it found little favour with any
but the openly fanatical. Tennent in a letter to Edwards, written probably in
the autumn of 1741, says, "As to the subject you mentioned, of laymen being
sent out to exhort and teach, supposing them to be real converts, I cannot but
think, if it be encouraged and continued, it will be of dreadful consequence to
the church's peace and soundness in the faith. It is base presumption,
whatever zeal be pretended to, notwithstanding, for any persons to take this
honour to themselves, unless they be called of Cod, as was Aaron. I know most
young zealots are apt, through ignorance, inconsideration, and pride of heart,
to undertake what they have no proper qualifications for; and through their
imprudence and enthusiasm the church of God suffers. I think all that fear God
should rise and crush the enthusiastic creature in the egg. Dear brother, the
times are dangerous. The churches in America and elsewhere are in great danger
of enthusiasm; we need to think of the maxim principiis obata." This
irregularity was freely condemned also by the association of Connecticut, the
convention of Massachusetts, and the assembly of pastors in Boston, in the
documents already referred to. Yet it was through the influence of these lay
exhorters, encouraged by a few such ministers as Davenport, and Mr. Park, of
Westerly, Rhode Island, that fanaticism and false religion were most
effectually promoted among the churches.
This
is a formidable array of evils. Yet as the friends of the revival testify to
their existence, no conscientious historian dare either conceal or extenuate
them. There was too little discrimination between true and false religious
feeling. There was too much encouragement given to outcries, faintings, and
bodily agitations, as probable evidence of the presence and power of God. There
was, in many, too much reliance on impulses, visions, and the pretended power of
discerning spirits. There was a great deal of censoriousness, and of a sinful
disregard of ecclesiastical order. The disastrous effects of these evils, the
rapid spread of false religion, the dishonour and decline of true piety, the
prevalence of erroneous doctrines, the division of congregations, the alienation
of Christians, and the long period of subsequent deadness in the church, stand
up as a solemn warning to Christians, and especially to Christian ministers in
all times to come. It was thus, in the strong language of Edwards, the devil
prevailed against the revival. "It is by this means that the daughter of
Zion in this land, now lies in such piteous circumstances, with her garments
rent, her face disfigured, her nakedness exposed, her limbs broken, and
weltering in the blood of her own wounds, and in nowise able to rise, and this
so soon after her late great joys and hopes."
Though this, being true, should be known and well considered, that the guilt and danger of propagating false religion and spurious excitement may be understood, yet we are not to forget or undervalue the great good which was then accomplished. In many places there was little of these evils, especially in New Jersey and Virginia. Dickinson and Davies successfully resisted their inroads within the sphere of their influence. And in many other places the soundness of the doctrines taught, the experience detailed, and the permanent effects produced, abundantly attest the genuineness of the revival. To the Presbyterian Church, particularly, it was the commencement of a new life, the vigour of which is still felt in all her veins.
