I. E. DWINELL ^B Jb£I$s5 *§3 61111111 ■ML. ■ ■ _3I ■^H Israel Edson Dwinell, D.D. A MEMOIR By Rev. Henry EP'Jewett, r KrTTuv SERMONS MA\ l 15 1893 l /z/3 n y Publisher, Oakland, Cal 7 Copyrighted, 1892, by H. ~F f . JEWETT. From the Press of Bacon & Company, San Francisco. Cal. CONTENTS. PAGE Chapter I. — Ancestry. Boyhood. At School. " The Lit- tle School Teacher." 7 Chapter II. — College Life. Conversion. Covenant 15 Chapter III. — In Tennessee. Teaching 25 Chapter IV. — Theological Course. Rebuffs. Small-Pox. Further Struggles. Perseverance 29 Chapter V. — Marriage. Home Missionary Service. At Galena and Rock Island 35 Chapter VI. — Pastorate in Salem. Journal, i849-'5i. Ad- vocacy of Maine Law. Death of Child 43 Chapter VII. — Pastorate in Salem. Journal, 1852. Re- vival. A Dream. Vacation. Expository Preaching 53 Chapter VIII. — Pastorate in Salem. Correspondence : The Pacific, The Salem Register, The Congre- gationalist. Advocacy of a General Confer- ence in Mass. "A Northern Deliverance." Hand-to-hand Work 63 Chapter IX. — Pastorate in Salem. Revisits Jonesboro. Visits from C. L. Goodell 71 Chapter X. — Winthrop Club. Contributor to Bibliotheca Sacra and New Euglander. History of a Re- jected MS. Subsequent Articles. Extracts. . . 77 Chapter XI. — Calls Westward. Close of Salem Pastor- ate. Tributes 91 Chapter XII. — New Scenes. Pastorate at Sacramento. Letter from George Kennan. Further Trib- utes 107 Chapter XIII. — A Christian Citizen 121 Chapter XIV. — An Institution Builder. Pacific Theolog- ical Seminary. Hopkins Academy. Mills College 133 4 ' CONTENTS. Chapter XV. — A Christian Leader. American Board. National Council 157 Chapter XVI. — Travels Abroad. Egypt. Holy Land. Europe. Hawaiian Islands. Paintings of the Great Masters. Characteristics of Foreign Cities. Missions in Turkey. Letters to Grandchildren '. . 16 Chapter XVII. — Professorship at Oakland. Home on the Hill. Poem. Methods of Instruction. Tributes from Students 183 Chapter XVIII.— Close of Life 193 Chapter XIX. — Genealogy 199 Chapter XX. — "Appreciated by Others." Tributes.... 201 SERMONS. I. — Christianity, a Religion of Expectancy 223 II. — The Assailed but Conquering Book 239 III. — Property an Instrument for Moral Training 253 IV. — Unconscious Help from God 265 V. — God's Saying Should be Our Doing 273 VI.— " Lead Me to the Rock." 283 VII.— Church Fellowship 2S7 VIII.— Extracts 313 INTRODUCTORY. "The eminent character, high position and valuable services of the late Dr. Dwinell deserve a Memorial, prepared with superior care, and put in a permanent form." [From a report to the General Association of California, presented by Rev. George Mooar, D.D., and adopted October, 1^90.] The following pages have been prepared 03^ one who stood- close to Dr. Dwinell in much of the work of his later j^ears, and who has had access to many records of his earlier life. From within the family circle he has known, loved, and honored him whose life is here pre- sented. While the hand of affection has held the pen, there has seemed to the writer no need of lavish praise. Those who knew Dr. Dwinell have long recognized his "eminent character, high position and valuable services. ' ' To those who have not known him he may herein teach the lesson of a noble Christian life. It is hoped, therefore, that this Memorial may be not only a memento of a departed friend, but also a help to those who will know him only through this volume. Closely blended with his life in spirit and service is the life of one dear to him, whom children and grand- children delight to honor, and whose Autumn is as the sunshine of Summer. To her this book is dedicated. H. K. JKWETT. Vacaville, Cal., Nov. 3, 1892. " To tell of such a life all words are weak, And song and eloquence are dumb In presence of those deeds that make the sum Of his humanity. His records speak . Unto us like the fragrance of a breath Of holy incense from the house of Death, And lift our spirit to that purer sky, Not earth's, nor heavens ; but some medial sphere Where he seemed lifted, treading as on high A loftier citadel, with vision clear. Seeing by lights, divinely poised above The depths of sin and sorrow lying low, Yet found no depths too deep for his Christ-love. Rome, 'mid her saints, none saintlier could show." ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL CHAPTER I. ANCESTRY. BOYHOOD. Reverent recognition of God and gratitude to Him for the ' ' Outward Estate y t God hath given mee ' ' char- acterized Michael Dunnel, the Huguenot, first of the Dwinell family in America. He came to this country after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, in 1685, while others of the family settled in England. "The family," we are told upon good authority, "bear the title of Count, and were seated in France, near Ro- chelle." Israel Edson Dwineee belonged to the seventh generation, being the son of Israel, who was the son of Archelaus, Jr. Archelaus, Sr., was the son of Jonathan, who was the son of Thomas, fourth of the nine children of Michael. Throughout these generations, during a period of over two hundred years, there appear evidences of Christian faith, patriotism, personal worth, and a fair degree, at least, of worldly prosperity. Coming to America in his early manhood, Michael Dunnel lived in Massachusetts, dying, as is supposed, at Topsfield, in 1717. Scarcely any two of his children spelled the family 8 ISRAEL KDSON DWINELL. name like their father, or like each other. Duenell, Doenell, Dunell, and Dwinell are some of the names by which the births of his children are entered on the rec- ords of Essex Co., Mass. During the French and Indian and the Revolutionary wars, the name in some of its many forms appears often on the rolls of the country's defenders. Israel Dwinell first appears in the third generation, in the person of a young patriot, who yielded up his life at the battle of Crown Point in 1760. Later on in the generations, six by the name of Israel are found, one of whom was the father of Dr. Dwinell. This good man lived to the advanced age of eighty-eight years. It was said of him at his funeral : " He was one of a very few old men, whose bodies have not outlived their minds. He re- tained in a remarkable degree the strong mental powers which were his natural endowment. For him the win- ter of age was not a time of fruitlessness. When he felt that mortal disease was upon him, and realized that through suffering he must be born into the life of Heaven, he said, ' Pray that God's will — not mine — be done. ' " It was a state of mind that reappeared in yet more marked degree of sweetness and resignation in the closing days of his son, whose life these pages commemorate. Dr. Dwinell's mother, Phila (Gilman) Dwinell, was a woman of beautiful character and of superior intelligence. Like her husband, she was " strong in the faith of the gospel." At every remem- brance of her, "her children arise up and call her blessed." To such an ancestry Israel Edson Dwinell did honor. The best they had to transmit he appropri- ated. The best that was in him, whether inherited or acquired, he imparted to all around him. ANCESTRY. BOYHOOD. 9 His birth-place was Calais, Vermont, a town that has given to the Congregational Ministry Rev. Na- thaniel G. Clark, D.D., the honored Senior Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and the late Rev. ConstansL. Goodell, D.D., a beloved pastor of Pilgrim Church in St. Louis, Mis- souri. The part of the town known as East Calais was the home of the D win all family from the time when Israel Dwinell, then a young man, brought to the great house on the hill his Marshfield bride. This homestead is a typical Xew England house of early times. It is a large two-story building, with generous attic. The hardwood frame is covered with half : inch boards, over which are clapboards, unpaint- ed, and in these later years shrunken and blackened by sunshine and rain. Up through the center of the roof protrudes a great chimney, with its five flues. In each of the many windows are twenty-four lights of glass. The outer doors are reached over stone door- steps. The round cat-hole near the bottom of the side door, the knocker on the front door, the treasures of the attic, the iron latches, the chimney cupboards, the brick oven and immense fire-place, the wainscotted walls in the " East " and ,4 West Square Rooms," and the generous buttery, — all have a charm to one unac- customed to such old buildings. This great house and the hilly farm on which it stood were bought by Dr. Dwinell 's father while }~et unmarried. To this home he brought his bride. Here, together, they reared a large famuY, five of whom sur- vive — all of whom have proved worth}- of their faith- ful and honored parents. Of the ten children in the family, the subject of this memorial was the fourth. IO ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. It was to his mother that Dr. Dwinell was chiefly in- debted for the impetus given to his intellectual aspira- tions. Like all other New England boys of that time, he attended " the little red school-house " in winter, and worked on his father's farm in summer ; but there were long winter evenings then, as now, and though East Calais was but a hamlet, where active men culti- vated the ungenerous soil, or chopped down for winter fires the beech and birch, and made sugar from the maple, and where industrious women added to their household duties the spinning of flax and wool, the little village among the hills had its public library, modest indeed, yet of unspeakable value to such as had any aspirations after knowledge. The mother encour- aged his love of books, guided his tastes, and favored his plans for further study. It was a not uncommon event for him to be ensconsed in some corner, absorbed in a book, while others of the family were " doing the chores." If the natural inquiry was raised, " Why can't Edson do this? " the mother's ready reply was, " Oh, Edson is reading." His sister says : — " I have heard mother tell of his great love for reading when he was a mere boy, — often telling her, when the boys in the neighborhood came for a game of ' goal ' on moonlight winter evenings, that he would greatly prefer to stay in the house and read. Often he would go out with the others, and after a little slip away quietly, come into the house, and take the book. At the circulating library he obtained works which he read with avidity. I remember mother's speaking of Rollin's History, which he read with great interest. " This love of books and of study was characteristic of him through all his life. ANCESTRY. BOYHOOD. 1 1 A choice volume was like a rare apple. Its seeds of fresh thought were cherished, planted in his intellect at*d heart, springing up with characteristics of his own clear generalization, and bearing fruit for the nourish- ment and pleasure of other minds. His library, in after years, contained no one class of books, but repre- sented a wide range of subjects. Amidst the usual occupations and recreations of a Green Mountain boy, the lad persevered in the direc- tion of an intellectual life. It was through persever- ance that he won. It is told of him that on a certain da3^ one of his school-mates, a fast runner, challenged the boys of the district to catch him. ' ' All went for him, Edson among them. One by one the boys gave up, but Edson persevered, and succeeded in catching him, after two hours' running, by tiring him entirely out. It being the last day of school, their punishment for absence from the school-room was postponed indef- initely." By a like persistence, this thoughtful, studi- ous boy, whose life engages our attention, pursued the object of his ambition, until he entered upon his life work a liberally educated gentleman. When he had finished his studies at the district school, he entered the Academy at Randolph Center, Vt., and began to prepare for college. He was now in his six- teenth year. From 1836 to 1839 he pursued his studies first at Randolph, and later at the Academy in Mont- pelier, where he graduated, prepared for a college course. This matter of an education was, however, a serious business to him and to his father. A New England farmer of those days, if blessed with sons, could ill afford to spare one of them during his minority ; nor was it regarded as just to the other boys in a family that 12 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. their time should be claimed by the father, while one " set up for himself," or gave himself to study. There- fore, following a custom then prevalent, young Kdson, at some time subsequent to his first leaving home, " bought his time of his father, " that is, paid, or gave his written promise to pay, to his father a certain amount, by which he was released from any further claim that his parents had upon his time during his minority. This buying of his time laid upon the young student an indebtedness which he carried for several years after completing his college course, an obligation willingly carried, and scrupulously discharged. Buying his time left him free to act for himself, but it did not pay his tuition and board bills, either in the Academy or at the College. We find him, therefore, teaching a district school in his native town the first winter after beginning his studies at Randolph. Appli- cation was duly made for the school in the ' ' next dis- trict. ' ' The post master was asked to canvass the neighborhood, and he returned the following favorable reply, not forgetting to give weight to his communica- tion by signing himself "Jonas Hall, p. m. " Calais, January 15th, 1837. Dear Sir : — I received yours of the 14th And read it with pleasure. I have Seen a considerable part of the District And They appear to Be Satisfyed with Your Son's Comming to Teach the School. I will assist him in everything that Lays in my power. I will Send after him Towards night. Sir, Your most Obedient Servent, ISSRAEL DWINEL Esq. JONAS HALL, p. m." ANCESTRY. BOYHOOD. 1 3 The boy was but sixteen years old, and was known as " the little school-teacher, " yet he gave satisfaction. He was in honor even ' ' in his own country. ' ' The following winter he taught in Montpelier. In this way by alternate study and teaching he accom- plished the first stage of his educational journey, and in the autumn of 1839 began the second stage as a Freshman at the University of Vermont at Burling- ton. CHAPTER II. COLLEGE LIFE. College life he seems to have enjoyed thoroughly. The records of those years are meagre, but they indi- cate that much hard work was done, and that in the earlier part of the course he shared in the usual scenes of jollity and mirth with which the majority of college boys are familiar. "He was universally esteemed by the students," writes Rev. J. G. Hale, whose acquaintance with Mr. Dwinell began in college, " as a man of unimpeachable character, a gentleman and a scholar. The lead of the class in scholarship lay between him and Albert H. Baile} r , of Poultney, who became an Episcopal clergy- man. The class as a whole were not very staid and steady, but Dwinell, Jones and Bailey were always reli- able and irreproachable." Here and there, among the fragmentary records of these days, we obtain glimpses of the young man work- ing his upward way. "1839. At home until Dec. 9th, and then com- menced my school, during which I boarded round the district." "1842. From Dec. 6th, 1841, till Feb. 2, I taught district school." " 1842. Roomed in No. 6, N. C, with Hutchinson." During his college course he was a member of the "University Institute," one of the College Societies. 1 6 ISRAEL KDSON DWINEIX. As the college course drew near its close, the intens- ity of his struggle to maintain himself financially in- creased. Devoted and self-sacrificing parents had sup- plemented, as they were able, his own limited resources secured through teaching, but in his Senior Year the situation began to grow desperate. Those who knew him well can appreciate the urgency of the situation, which would lead him to appeal to any one outside his own family for aid ; but with his diploma almost in sight the question stared him in the face whether or not he could finish his course without further assistance. On the sixth of February, 1843, with many misgiv- ings, he addressed the following letter to a gentleman of means : "Mr. H , ' ' Dear Sir : — I write this communication under cir- cumstances of pecuniary embarrassment. My object is to seek relief. 1 ' I have now been three years and a half a member of the University ; and up to the commencement of the present college year, by industry, economy, and, above all, kindness of beloved parents, I have struggled ever on, and incurred small liabilities. But since then, owing to the hardness of the times, embarrassment of friends, and various unexpected disappointments, I have been thrown entirely upon my own resources, which are now nowise fruitful. ' ' With such destitution of means on the one hand, and with necessary expenses every where staring me in the face on the other, what else can I do but seek some kind and liberal-hearted man to step forth and relieve me from my temporary embarrassment ? To him it might not in the end be any loss ; to me it would be COLLEGE LIFE. 1 7 great gain. And to what nobler and better purpose can wealth be appropriated, than to assist and encourage those who are struggling unequally with blind fortune, and who only need the use of money for a limited period in order to realize what once appeared the visional dreams of their 3'outh — to be prepared for lives of more extended usefulness, and to assist according to what in them lies to the accomplishment of the purposes of the Most High ? ' ' Under such circumstances, and under the influence of such feelings, I have been led to address this note to you as the person most likely to afford me assistance, wishing with more earnestness of feeling than I dare attempt to express that you would furnish me for a single year with one hundred dollars. I expect to teach, and trust when that time arrives, God being my helper, I shall be able to render back to thee ' thine own with usury.' Forty dollars I want before the twenty-fifth of March — the remainder before Com- mencement. My father, in a late letter, has kindly offered to sign with me, so that in case of an}^ of those unforseen accidents which befall one, }^ou would be ultimately secure. 11 If yon wish to make any inquiries, that you may not lavish your assistance unworthily, you can freely consult any of my acquaintance, and particularly any of the Faculty. ****** ' ' Yours with sincere regard, "I. E. Dwinell." This letter, more than an}^ other thing that is pre- served of that period, reveals the spirit of the young man while in college. His letter is not an unmitigated 1 8 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. request for charity. It appeals to the charitable spirit of a man of means, but its basis is a safe business prop- osition. The style is direct. The situation at home and at college is frankly avowed. Confidence in the favorable judgment of faculty and fellow-students indi- cates his own self-respect, while the urgency with which he presents his plea reveals the financial strug- gle he was passing through. Disappointment awaited him. In place of the bread his famished soul craved, he received a stone. This was the size of it : — "Feb. 7th, 1843. "Mr. Dwineel, ' ' Sir : — The scarcity of money renders it difficult for me to collect money to meet taxes and the necessary expenses of my family. I cannot, therefore, grant the favour you ask ; and the advances expected of me by my children will probably make it out of my power to loan money to any person during my sojourn in this life. ' ' Respectfully yours, "S H ." How this rebuff was received, many another strug- gling young man in our colleges and seminaries who has had like hopes dashed to earth can understand. The University of Vermont did not then have in beneficiary funds for worlhy students its thousands of dollars, nor any other college its present large amount of funded scholarships. If, with such aid, the needy student of today must toil painfull}', alpenstock in hand, up the steeps of a college course, we can com- prehend what it meant a half century ago to ascend the same heights with no alpenstock, and in the face of falling stones. COLLEGE LIFE. 1 9 The crisis, referred to in the letters above, was in some way met, and the college course was ended in the autumn of 1843. Another crisis more momentous, more happy in its results, marking an epoch in the his- tory of a noble nature, occurred in the middle of Dr. Dwinell's junior year in college. With all the ambi- tion of a student, he had lacked until then the Chris- tian motive which thereafter for nearly fifty years gave direction to his intellectual powers. His parents were Christians ' ' of the old Puritan stamp. " Some of their children remember the meetings held 03- the old First Church, organized in 18 10, and reorganized in 1824, to which their father and mother belonged. " I recall," says one, ' ' the general meetings held in barns (we had no church building), and the great interest taken on those occasions. Monthly meetings were often held at our house. The religious element was far greater then than at the present time." It seems to be unques- tioned, however, that an irreligious and worldly influ- ence prevailed among many of the people, giving its character to the town. Amidst these diverse moral in- fluences young Edson grew up, ' ' trained to good hab- its and inspired with noble ambitions," like his con- temporaries, Rev. N. G. Clark, D.D., and the late Rev. C. L. Goodell, D.D., both natives of Calais ; but like them entering college — the same college — with the question of a Christian life unsolved, and, more, the consideration of it neglected. For nearly three years he gave no heed to whatever convictions he may have had, nor to the pleading of faithful friends. That he had at least one such friend is seen in letters that he has preserved from his classmate in freshman year, P. F. Barnard, who, after removing to Dartmouth College, in more than one letter pointedly and faithfully directs 20 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. his friend to Christ. ' ' Let us often put to ourselves the question, and ponder it well, ' What will it profit us if we gain the whole world and lose our own souls ? ' Friend D., I hope you will express your mind freely upon this subject. We are, I trust, friends, and as such can express to each other our views and feelings confidently and freel3 T . ' ' And again : "I trust, dear friend, these things oc- cupy a prominent place in your reflections. Consider, ponder and decide. The Word of God is with you. Make it your study and obey it." What his replies to these appeals were we do not know, but in time there came the full surrender to God, the consecration of all his powers to the service of the Lord Jesus Christ. So unreserved was this consecration, that he wrote out and preserved till his life closed what he calls his knew him it has proved a benign influence, it has been to the writer of this memorial not onry a loving service of personal affection, but also a joyful Christian service, to help perpetuate that influence among his fellow men, and especially among the young men of this generation. It is not death to die at the close of a life like this. " When a good man dies, For years beyond our ken, The light he leaves behind him, Lies upon the paths of men." CHAPTER XVIII. CLOSE OF LIFE. On the 12th of May, the Seminary year closed. On that and the preceding day Dr. Dwinell conducted the examinations in his own department, was present at the examinations by the other professors, attended a meeting of trustees, offered the prayer at the An- niversary exercises, and was present at a reception tendered to the students and their friends at the resi- dence of Prof. Benton. In addition to this, in con- junction with Mrs. Dwinell, he entertained friends most hospitably at his own pleasant home. All this, at the close of a busy and laborious year, made the vacation look very attractive to him. Within a few days Mr. and Mrs. Dwinell went to the home of their daughter, Mrs. Jewett, near Vacaville, for needed rest and recreation. It was rarely the case that Dr. Dwinell did not plan for vacation work, in the wa}^ of special reading or writing upon some vital topics upper- most in his mind, but on this occasion his watchword seemed to be rest. The warm sunshine, the vineclad porch, the burdened fruit trees, the nodding grain, the quiet drives, were peculiarly attractive to him. He undertook no study, he read less than usual, he went in and o .t of that home for a few brief days unburdened by care, except for the loved ones about him. On Sunday evening, May 18th, there came into this home to bless the hearts of parents and grandparents 194 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. little Rebekah, his ninth grandchild. One after another, these grandchildren had received the seal of baptism at his hand. But so closely followed the time of his de- parture upon the coming of this little child, that he did not perform for her this service. Very tended y, however, did he take the infant of days from her grand- mother and namesake on one occasion, and hold her in his arms, his countenance all aglow as he talked to her, and caused her to smile. The scene, which attracted the attention of that home circle at the time, recalls the entry which he made in his journal when little Rebekah 's mother was born : "I find that I am dis- posed to love her at once, The affection does not wait to grow, as in the case of our little Eddie, but pours forth in full strength at once. " On Thursday, the 22nd of May, Dr. and Mrs. Dwi- nell went to Oakland, expecting to return to Vacaville in a few days for further rest and enjoyment. But the rest he sought was soon to be found in the Heavenly Home, and the enjoyment entered upon that which is eternal. The two weeks that followed wrought swiftly their great work. Reference has been made in these pages to Mills College and Seminary. At this time, the institution was just emerging from troubles that had claimed the deepest solicitude of its Board of Trustees, and at- tracted wide-spread public attention. The crisis had scarcely passed, when Commencement Day arrived. Dr. Dwinell had not the strength to meet the excite- ments and burdens incident to the position of trustee at that time. Yet so deep was his interest in the in- stitution, that he gave no thought to his own strength in his service of the college. Many duties, some of CLOSE OF LIFE. 1 95 them taxing him to the utmost, claimed his closest at- tention. In the presence of a large audience he presented diplomas to the graduates, and briefly and beautifully addressed them. On his way home he stopped at the office of his son-in-law, Dr. Wilcox, and asked for an examination of the action of his heart. This was found to be very rapid and very weak. Absolute rest was insisted up- on, and an early return to Vacaville was urged ; but other and exhausting labors were requested of him in connection with the college difficulties, and he com- plied, when he should have been entirely free from all excitement. But the time had come when the earthly service was about to be exchanged for the higher service that awaits the saints. . On Friday morning he felt too weak to rise. Soon the enfeebled heart began to labor in vain to renew the life currents that were ebbing. Congested lungs added to the complications. A struggle for breath, which grew in intensity, began. The agonies of the conflict gave token of what the result must be. The week that intervened between his yielding to the force of the disease and his death, displayed the consummation of his gentleness, heroism and faith. Although in mortal agony himself he never, for a mo- ment, forgot the comfort of those about him. He talked of the coming change with her whose love, ten- der and strong, had enveloped him as an atmosphere, and ministered to her grief by his own courageous faith. He had a word of grateful appreciation for every service rendered by all who were about him. He sent messages of affection to the absent. He noted I96 ISRAKL BDSON DWINELL. the singing of the birds. When, on account of his struggle for breath, his bed was moved near the bay window of his chamber (adjoining the front room, which was his study), he looked out upon the eastern hills toward Piedmont, and exclaimed in broken sen- tences, " Beautiful hills ! beautiful hills ! I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills — not these hills, but those of which these are emblematic." Morning and evening, as was their wont, the family gathered with him for household worship. The pas- sages familiar to him, in Hebrew or Greek as well as in English, were not only his comfort, but also used by him for the comfort of those about him. In all his distress he held fast to Him in whom he believed, and by whom he was girded for the last conflict. On Saturday morning, the 7th of June, the conflict ended. For those who had ministered to him with sleepless devotion, and for her whom sickness had de- prived of the sweet solace of sharing these vigils, it was an hour of grief, sweetened with blessed memories and all the comforts that such a triumph of faith in a risen Lord could give. To him it was the hour of re- lease and victory. In that last week of suffering there had been erected in his sick chamber the triumphal arch of the Christian victor, through which this pure and lofty soul passed, with the majesty of a Christian conqueror, on his way to the capital of his Master's kingdom. On the after- noon of Monday, the 9th of June, simple funeral ser- vices were held in the home. Rev. B.C. Oakley, pas- tor of Plymouth Avenue Church, read passages of Scripture. Rev. Samuel H. Willey, D.D., paid lov- ing tribute to his life-long friend. ProLGeorge Mooar, D. D., one of Dr. Dwinell's co-laborers in the Semi- CLOSE OF LIFE. I 97 nary, tenderly commended the living to the God of all comfort. Representatives of the Boards of Trust of the Pacific Seminar}' and Mills College, and represent- atives of the Berkeley Club, of which he was a mem- ber, were his pall bearers. His body rests in Moun- tain View Cemetery at Oakland. His grave is marked by a simple massive monument, on which this inscrip- tion briefly tells the passer-by who and what sort of a man he was : ISRAEL E. DWIXELL. East Calais, Vt., October 24, 1820. Oakland, Cal., June 7, 1890. 2 timothy, 4:7. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. CHAPTER XIX. GENEALOGY. i. Michael Duniiel, b. France, d. Topsfield, Mass., 1717. 2. Thomas Doenell, (written also Dwennel and Dwo- nillj the fourth of nine children, b. 1672, m. Dinah Brimsdell of Lynn, d. Topsfield, 1747. 3. Jonathan Dunnell, eldest of nine children, b. June, 1702, m. Mehitable Kennay, d. Millbur}^, Mass., 1782. 4. Archelaus Dwinel, the fourth of eleven children, b. Topsfield, 1731, m. Martha Perkins, d. (in French and Indian War) Nov. 13, 1758, aged 27. 5. Archelaus Dwinel, Jr., eldest of three children, b. Boxford, 1754, m. Olive Hall, daughter of Dea- con Willis Hall, of Sutton, d. Marshfield, Vt. He was a soldier under Washington. 6. Israel Dwinell, third of six children, b. Croyden, N. H., Oct. 8, 1789, m. April 1, 1813, Phila Gilman, of Marshfield, Vt. She died June 1, 1864. He died Feb. 20, 1874. 7. Their children: Alcander resides in Brooklyn, N. Y. Ira S. resides East Calais, Vt. Solon, d. in infancy. Israel Edson, b. East Calais, Oct. 24, 1820, m. Sept. 12, 1848, at Jonesboro, Tenn., Rebecca Eliza Allen Maxwell, daughter of Samuel and 200 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. Hester L (Grear) Maxwell. I. K. D., d. Oak- land, Cal., June 7, 1890. Albert resides East Calais. Melvin,d. Rome, Georgia, Dec. 28, 1887. Levi Gilman resides East Calais. Phila Jane, m. Rev. John Gardiner Hale ; resides Redlands, Cal. Nuel Byron, d. East Calais, aged 13. Edgar, d. in infancy. 8. Children of Israel Edson and Rebecca E. Dwinell. (1) Edson, b. Salem, Mass., d. Salem. (2) Alice Hester, b. Salem, m. at Sacramento, Cal., Rev. Henry E. Jewett. (3) Jane Rebecca, b. Salem, m. at Sacramento, Wilbur J. Wilcox, M.D. (4) William, b. Salem, m. at Sacramento, Flor- ence, daughter of W. K. and Blanche Knight. (5) Iyillie, b. Salem, m. at Sacramento, Robert H. Hawley, d. Sacramento, Oct. 24, 1885. (6) Albert, b. Salem ; d. Salem, 1863. 9. Grandchildren of Israel Edson and Rebecca E^ Dwinell. Gertrude Maxwell Jewett. Mary Fairbanks Jewett. Rebekah Edith Dwinell Jewett. Edson Dwinell Wilcox. Lee Wilcox, d. in infancy. Wilbur J. Wilcox, Jr., d. in infancy. Henry Wilcox, d. in infancy. Elizabeth (Lily) Clarissa Wilcox. Blanche Maxwell Dwinell .. Franklin Fairbanks Jewett CHAPTER XX. ' ' APPRECIATED BY OTHERS. ' ' ' ' I had known him from my boyhood. We were born in the same country town, studied together at the same Academy and later in the University, where he was two years in advance of me. His later life just realized the promise of his youth — a boy and youth of singular sweetness and purity of character — a born gentleman if ever there were one ; of unusual mental ability, of untiring diligence and faithfulness in every- thing he undertook, a leader in all religious enterprises in college, an accomplished writer, happy in debate, valuing truth and his convictions all the more that he had come to them as the result of patient thought and careful discussion, always and everywhere the humble, earnest, consecrated Christian. Such was Israel Ed son Dwinell, my loved and honored townsman and friend. " But why speak of him to you and his bereaved kindred ? Only to let you know how warmly he w T as appreciated by others. "Boston, Mass. Rev. N. G. Clark, D.D. Sec'y A. B. C. F. M." this gentleman. The ac- quaintance ripened during the subsequent years of his residence here, and had much to do with the shaping of my own after-career. * * * The genius of the man, the dignity of his carriage, the charm of his scholarship, the righteousness of his purpose — all at- tracted me, and I soon began to count as red-letter days in my experience those upon which some interview was enjoyed, and intimate exchange was had of the thoughts nearest our souls. * * * Whatever his theology was, we knew we could trust him ; that his word was his bond ; that the friend who needed his as- sistance he would not desert ; that his life was pure and high, and that the influence of it went out to make APPRECIATED BY OTHERS. 211 first his household, and then his church, and then his city, better for his presence. ' ' The key-note of his character was heavenly faith- fulness, and it covered all the landscape of his home life, as well as his public life, with moral and spiritual bloom. He was a man of calm and tranquil mien, with that high-bred courtesy which always shows it- self in quiet dignity of speech and bearing. He had a kind and sympathetic nature, and possessed in abun- dant measure those rare graces that naturally grow in the soil of such a heart. He was as true as steel, and his simple word was equivalent to the most solemn vow. He was a teacher and preacher of truth and righteousness, not only in word, but in deed. His whole life was one of fragrant beauty, love and service; and as the sunset came, and the twilight dropped down, it was but the harbinger of a bright coming morning — the prophecy of a fast-approaching dawn. To this saintly soul that had reached its three-score and ten years there had come no withering nor blight; but only richness and ripeness. He was translated in the plentitude of his powers. It was life's insensible completeness, not a dwarfing of nature, but its perfec- tion ; not a fading, but are-flourishing. What wonder that the autumnal glories were decked with a smile of welcome, and the solemn rustle was full of heavenly music ! * * * " " Let us thank God for the sacred testimony of such a life — a life that reveals the celestial, the realm of perfect bliss, the land of everlasting joy ! " " Death to such is transition. Hope fledges for flight, Love bursts into transport, Faith swells into sight ; Prayer glides into rapture, all sighing shall cease ; And Patience shall melt to a radiance of peace. "San Francisco. Mrs.. Sarah B. Cooper." 212 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. 11 During the twenty years in which he was pastor of the First Congregational Church of Sacramento, his life was a noble record of duty carefully and lovingly done, of wise teaching of the truth, simple and strong, told with dignity, eloquence and fervor. * * * Never, during the years of Dr. Dwinell's pastorate, did he fail to give rich, strong mental and spiritual food to those who came to the Sabbath feast ; none who hun- gered and thirsted for meat and drink, for wise and spiritual counsel, for Christian help and uplifting, ever went away unsatisfied, or with the vague, restless feel- ing that they had not found what they craved ; but were, on the contrary, filled, and that abundantly. * * * After all is said, only those who lived under Dr. Dwinell's beneficent teaching and widely-dissein- inated influence during those years can know how perfect was his life in that special sphere of action, how large, how full, how faithful was his ministry, how complete his forgetfulness of self, his absorption of am^thing like a selfish, personal ambition, in the loft}' desire to preach God's truth as it was committed to him. Miss Carrie Warren. " Alameda, Cal." ' ' His reputation as a scholar, thinker, and writer was wider than his own denomination. In fineness of temper, breadth and catholicity of judgment, and in well-bred courtesy, he was the model of a Christian gentleman." San Francisco Daily Bulletin, (Editorial). 1 ' The death of Dr. Dwinell, so long a resident of Sacramento, removes one of those thoroughly upright " APPRECIATED BY OTHERS." 213 and pure men whose lives are examples of good, and guides to all humanity." Sacramento Daily Record-Union, (Editorial). "His influence was always for good, and when the pages of his life are turned, there will be found no spot to mar or deface them." Sacramento Leader, (Editorial). " He was a man singularly beloved and admired." Oakland Daily Enquirer, (Editorial). From Victoria Institute, London, England. ' ' Madam : ' ' I am desired by the Council to express the regret with which they have learned of the loss of one of this Institute's specially- valued members, Dr. Dwinell, the value of whose work in the cause of truth first attracted the attention of the Council, and caused them to invite him to become a member of this Society. Although they may not otherwise intrude, they ven- ture to at least join with those who respect and honor his memory. " I am, Madam, " Your obedient servant, " Francis Petrie, " Honorary Secretary to the Council." From Berkley Club, Oakland, Cal. " It is widely felt that in the death of Dr. I. E. Dwinell California lost a foremost scholar, educator, clergyman and citizen, who came to the State twenty- seven years ago, already one of the leading men of 214 ISRAEL BDSON DWINEEE. thought in the New England pulpit, and who main- tained at our capital city, as well as in his later resi- dence at Oakland, that deserved reputation. ' ' The Berkeley Club has reason to remember him as punctual in attendance, courteous and friendly in bear- ing; when he opened discussion, as thorough, pains- taking, original in conception and in style ; when he followed discussion as penetrating to the heart of the subjects and suggestive in his comments, always en- deavoring to see all themes in the light of their funda- mental principles ; though curious and searching as to the secondary causes in processes which make the world seem a continuous chain, yet reverent and tender in the habitual recognition of Him in whom he felt that all things have their being ; in communion with whom he sought purity of heart, and in whose Redeeming I,ove he rested with the peace of a child. ' ' Recognizing our personal loss in his absence from us, we express our sympathy with those who miss him in the closer circle and dearer ties of home. " George Mooar, "Charles Woodbury, " Committee." " Pacific Theoeogicae Seminary, "Oakland, Cal., Sept. 5, 1890. " Dear Mrs. Dwineee : "At this, the beginning of another session of the Seminary, we are about to take up our studies, and, in a very peculiar manner, feel the inexpressible loss we have sustained in the removal of our late dear Pro- fessor Dwinell. ' ' God has been very kind to the Seminary in sending another to take up the work, but that does not lessen APPRECIATED BY OTHERS. 215 our sense of loss, nor fill the place in our hearts which he held, not only as a teacher but as a friend. We trust that we may honor his memory by carrying out those instructions we were privileged to receive from his lips, and find in imitating him a greater incentive to a more Christ-like, self-denying life. ' ' And let us express our sympathy with 3^011 in } 7 our bereavement, which we feel to be ours also. " God alone can wipe the tears from our eyes, heal our heart-wounds, and make up to us for our loss, un- til the glad day of re-union dawns. This we are per- suaded He will do, and so answer our prayers on 3 T our behalf. Very sincerely yours, Robert W. Newlands, Chas. Iy. Eby, In the name of the Students of the Pacific Theological Seminar3 T . Resolutions passed by the President and Board of Trustees of The Pacific Theological Seminary. Whereas, Since our meeting in May last, it has pleased God, in his infinite wisdom, to remove from this life our brother, Rev. Israel E. Dwinell, D.D., a member of this Board : Resolved, That we put upon record our sincere and heartfelt sorrow at his loss : making note of the fact that this is the first instance in which a member of this Board has been called away by death. Resolved, further, That it was through his agency in large measure, together with that of others equalty interested, that the Pa:ific Theological Seminary was planned and established. 2l6 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. Resolved, That as a member of this Board for more than twenty years and from its very organization, he has been scrupulously attentive to all the interests of the institution, active in securing endowments, patient and thorough in studying and transacting its business, discriminating and careful as to the doctrinal views held and taught in the Seminary, unselfish and untir- ing in work for it, and at all times hopeful of its enlargement, permanence and growing usefulness. Resolved, that in remembering the Seminary in his will, * he has borne most emphatic testimony to his love for the institution, and to his sense of its great impor- tance. Resolved, That we extend our heartfelt sympathy to his bereaved and afflicted family, and assure them that we largely share in their sorrow. Resolutions passed by the Upper Bay Association. Resolved, That while recognizing the wisdom and love no less than the sovereignty of the great Head of the Church, the tidings of the decease of the Rev. Dr. I.E. Dwinell fall upon the Association as a great sor- row. The nobleness of his personal character and the pur- ity of his life have endeared him to all who knew him, and his acknowledged intellectual and spiritual power, as scholar, teacher and orator, has made him beyond as well as within his own state and denomination, a trusted Christian leader, whose loss will be deeply felt throughout the country. Resolved, That we respectfully tender to his be- reaved family our deepest sympathy. * The sum of Ji,ooo.oo for a permanent Library Fund. 'appreciated by others. 21/ Resolutions passed by General Association op California, October, 1S90. The eminent character, high position, and valuable services of the late Dr. Dwinell deserve a Memorial prepared with superior care, and put in a permanent form. But it is not fitting that the first meeting of the General Association of California since his death should be dissolved, without putting on record some recognition of his worth, especially as he was related to our churches. He came into our State after he had already gained in Massachusetts, by a pastorate of fourteen years, a high degree of confidence. At once he took — indeed, he had long taken — the interests of these churches in- to his heart. His heart was large; his vision of the mission and opportunity which the Kingdom of Christ has here was large. In his own church at Sacramento he was attentive to every detail of his pastoral care. Yet, when after tw T enty years of service he resigned his charge, it was said not merely that his particular congregation was bereaved, but that Sacramento had lost its chief citizen. For though our brother was a theologian, and of a strenuous type, yet his Christian doctrine made him all the more alive to every subject that concerns the better life of men. At the same time, as befitted his calling, the emphasis of his activ- ity was spent along the lines of the denomination with which he was connected. He was a Puritan in his conception of organized Christianity. Catholic in his sympathies, yet he ever stood for the characteristic features of our free polity. But his distinctive service consisted in strengthening and fastening the ties of fellowship, and the last paper from his hand was de- 15 2l8 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. voted to a careful statement of the principles of that fellowship. He was ardently and broadly interested in every one of the lines of our denominational and missionary effort. More than any other one of our California ministry was he influential in the general convocations of our churches at the East. He represented us in most of the National Councils, and on recent notable occasions at the sessions of the American Board. Among the things which lay most on his heart was the Higher Christian Education. At the General As- sociation of 1865 he was Chairman of the Committee which advised the formation of the Theological Semin- ary, and was Chairman of the Committee which drew up the original constitution for it, that was adopted the following year at Sacramento. He was then made a Trustee, and remained such to his death ;- and, surely, his fellow Professors and his Students bear united testimony to his hallowed devotion as Profes- sor during these later, alas, too brief years. But his interest in the Higher Education deepened into the intense conviction that the Congregational Churches should, in some way, establish and endow a college. Meanwhile, he had been most faithfully sharing and leading in the plans by which Dr. and Mrs. Mills were building the college for women that bears their name. The services which Dr. Dwinell rendered to these causes were the services of a great man. His mind was that of a philosopher, which cannot rest till it sees all things in their principles. At the same time he had the genius of industry and of perseverance, which is willing to take minute pains in the gathering of data. No matter what subject might be introduced for dis- cussion, those who knew him expected that when he "appreciated by others." 219 spoke the subject would be opened from a wider view, and in some special illumination. If his doctrinal views seemed strenuous, and in these later days have been strenuously maintained, yet they were main- tained not in the zeal of a partisan, nor even in the logical consistency of a mere system, but because, in his sight, the very laws of thought and the very life of the written Word required it. How admirably he has set forth his positions many will remember, who lis- tened to his vivid language in public address, and who read his lucid papers in the various journals and reviews. Most of all, we would recall how the gentleness of the Divine Love had given him the greatness of char- acter, the fine sense of duty, the courtesy of the Chris- tian gentleman and brother, the life that is hid with Christ in God. Geo. Mooar, For Committee. We leave thee with a trust serene Which Time, nor Change, nor Death can move ; While with thy childlike faith we lean On Him whose dearest name is Love." Whittier. SERMONS. I. * CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF EXPECTANCY. [Concerning this sermon, it was said in the Congregationa- list } editorially, Nov. 18, 1S75 : "It seems to us as hardly too great praise to say of it, that it deserves to go into the per- manent literature of the Church, by the side of the late Pres. Wayland's famous discourse upon The Moral Dignity of the Missionary Enterprise."] "For ye are not as yet co7ne to the rest and to the inheritance, which the Lordyoitr God giveth you." — Deut. 12 : g. The attitude of Christianity is that of expectancy. It is not a religion that looks backward. Its standards, its ideals, its Golden Age, are not in the past, but in the future. This is a peculiarity of revealed religion in every age. The patriarch was trained to look into the dim distance, to a better time coming. Moses rose higher, and saw more distinctly, but his eye was still on the future. Isaiah ascended to a higher point of outlook, but looked forward. Even Christ, when he came and disclosed the nature of his mission, taught that it was not his object to lull and satisfy human ex- pectations, but to arouse them still more ; and He lift- ed a veil disclosing a higher glory in the ages to follow. There was nothing in his teachings or life calculated *Preached before the General Association of California, at San Francisco, Oct. 5, 1875- 224 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. to convey the impression that He regarded that period as the consummation of human history, and that there was nothing for mankind in the coming age to do but to look back to it, and linger under its shadows, lament- ing its evanescence, and delaying as long as possible its vanishing glo.y. Rather, He himself stood forth a greater prophet than all, wand in hand, pointing his disciples and the world to a higher future and a nobler age. The Evangelists and Apostles in their writings catch the same spirit of expectancy and off-look, and urge the church to prepare for the full- day splendors of the kingdom of God on earth, and the second coming of Christ. They hold up, indeed, the earthly, histori- cal mission of Jesus as grand ; grand in itself, but far more grand as explaining and justifying the higher expectations to which it points forward, and for which it furnishes the ground. This habit of revelation, of leading good people to look to the future, not to the past, is a habit that runs through its books, and the ages covered by its recitals. Adam gazed vaguely forward for an unknown deliv- erer ; and the last writer in the Bible, in the last book, on the last page, closes the Christian revelation, gaz- ing into the future, and saying : " Even so, come, I^ord Jesus ' ' ; and yet he had the historical Christ, and the great redemption, and the most divinely-seeded epoch of history behind him. THE SAME IN EVERY AGE. The passage which I have selected for my text pre- sents the host of God of the remote Mosaic age in this attitude. But it is their attitude in every age ; and the text will apply to them now as well as then. Taking it, then, as a representative text, true of the genius of SERMONS. 225 revealed religion, true of the spirit of Christianity, we are reminded in it that the object of pious admiration and zeal at the present time is not in the past, but in the future ; that our mission as followers of Christ is not to recover a vanishing good, but to gird up ourselves, and go forward to a coming good ; that Christianity has its priceless blessing still before the world, and not behind it ; " for ye are not as yet come to the rest and to the inheritance, which the Lord your God giveth you. " This is language to persons on a march, a great host under marching regimen, moving, or expecting at any moment to move, out of present quarters on to advanced positions, taking with them what they have gained by experience, and their goods, and leaving what is useless. They may camp at times, and build tabernacles, and linger on the way ; but the blessing on which they have set their souls is before them, and soon comes the summons for a multitudinous move- ment, and there is an advance all along the line. Many things are thrown away ; but seldom anything valua- ble ; seldom anything that is not better left than car- ried ; for it is not a retreat, but an advance under a divine leader. A MISTAKEN OPINION. This is, indeed, very different from a common opin- ion. Many persons imagine that Christianity is carry- ing a standard that points towards the back ages. They think it is seeking an object that belongs to the past, from which mankind are slowly retreating, which is becoming more and more remote, and looks more and more obscure and insignificant, like a railroad sta- tion on the level plains, at which you gaze as you re- cede from it, standing on the platfoim of the last car, 2 26 ISRAEL EUSON DWINEEL. till the parallel rails seem to run together, and the town becomes a speck on the horizon, or a film of dust float- ing in the air near you, and you rub your eyes to tell which. So they regard the objects of Christianity, as settling down, and vanishing in the distance, to be found soon only on the guide-books and historical rec- ords ; having present influence only by virtue of tradi- tion, education, association, and a certain tenacity of life which keeps a begun faith of mankind from dying out when its uses are over ; and to be seen now only by those on the rear of the train, and looking back. It is a great mistake, and arises from an utter misconcep- tion of the spirit and genius of Christianity. Chris- tianity is looking forward. It is out in front of the train, pointing the advanced disciples, pointing the church, pointing the world, ahead, to the unattained and incomparable blessings, and saying ever: "For- ward ; on, on." Would you look into this matter ? Would you con- sider some of the particulars ? I will specify certain points in which Christianity as existing among men is leading them from its own past up to a higher future, and holding before mankind its own sublimer objects, to arouse their faith and devotedness. THE WORKS OF CHRISTIANITY. Take, then, the works of Christianity. Is she con- tent with what has been done, the enterprises under- taken in her name, the blessings her followers have bestowed on society, and the range of nations among which they have scattered them ? By no means. She does not feel that her work is done, or that she is put- ting a finishing touch to it here and there, or repeating a dead routine of inherited labors. Her work rises be- fore her as a vision, — stupendous, urgent, grand ; and SERMONS. 227 her cry to her followers is : " Onward to the neglected masses, the half- Christianized population, the unap- proached districts. Bring the people to Christ. Give them light. Raise them to the Christian tone. Carry the gospel to the ends of the earth, and make its might and beauty felt wherever it goes." And Christian people in making these advances are recasting from time to time, their methods, and adopting new ones. Some of the old work, also, they are no longer doing, or doing with less energy, preparing, under the fresh divine inspiration, for the new work to which they have a higher call. So Christians are ever marching, or liable to be marching, out of old service up to new and higher, which God keeps before them. SOCIAL ideals. Turn to the social ideals of Christianity. Where are they ? In the vision which dawns upon us, under the influence and teachings which she inspires, are objects such as these : homes for all, and all homes pure and loving ; education, in which intellect, heart and body are proportionably cared for and cultured ; a reign of medicine in which there is no quackery ; justice in whose ermine is no stain, in whose knowledge and penetration no deficiency ; legislation at once intelli- gent and incorrupt ; a press competent to handle the great questions of social life and po itical economy, now so often treated with flippancy and shallowness ; a literature healthful, inspiring, and nourishing the life of the nation, and no other than such literature ; a public preferring to be fed with truth to being stirred with sensation ; a church in which the Spirit of Christ reigns, and all other spirits are cast out ; a kingdom of Christ on earth, in which all Christians live in unity and peace ; society bound together with bonds of love, 228 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. and illustrating the principles of truth and righteous- ness ; all swords beaten into plough-shares, and spears into pruning hooks. Now these ideals of society all loom up in the future. Christianity points forward to them as we look towards the New Jerusalem " coming down from Gcd out of heaven." We do not see them as we look back towards the Old Jerusalem, or any favored period in the past. They are not among the fulfillments of any patristic or apostolic age. And under her call we are, here and there, leaving the old attempts to overtake them, and pressing in new direc- tions towards the grand conceptions and inspirations. The Christian world, restless under the half-successes, half-failures, of the by-gone time, and impatient to be off after the mark of the higher calling beckoning to it, is leaving, indeed, some things that have been hon- ored of God in their day, eager to take short cuts to the end. MORAL STANDARD OF CHRISTIANITY. Let us glance at the moral standard cf Christianity. Where is that ? Is the ethical system of our religion behind the age ? Is it something that has been out- grown, as the world has advanced in knowledge, science, the practical arts, and the multiplication of comforts and elegancies ? Has the moral code proved too sluggish and slow-footed, and fallen behind an ad- vancing and outrunning civilization ? No, no ; a thousand times no. The very distance, often painful and discouraging, between the moral precepts of Christianity and the practices of Christians, shows the unapproachable nobility of the code, and its great dis- tance in advance of the church as well as the world. It rises before the age, and lures and draws it on, lead- ing the way to the richer coming of the Lord of right- SERMONS. 229 eousness, as the star rose before the Magi, and led them to the infant Jesus. It is inimitable in its reaches of truth, justice, humility, virtue, self-control, brother- hood, charity ; and no one despises it, or speaks slight- ingly of it, without betraying his own love of license and degeneracy. When the world comes up to it and practices it, the millennial age, all the ethic good that prophets have sighted and poets sung, will have come. Towards that standard the Christian world is sum- moned to advance, and is advancing — not regularly, not with equal steps, not with brilliant speed ; with advances and retreats, as the tide comes in ; but grandly, taking the centuries as mile-posts. At the same time it is slowly passing away from some of the forms and methods in w r hich it had formerly sought to embody its moral convictions, and adopting those nearer its present goal. It is leaving the old attain- ments, and seeking the ever-living principles lying in the new fields. The great changes in the circum- stances and conditions of modern life have introduced many new ethical problems in government, political economy and social life, putting the old applications and procedures in many cases at fault, and making necessary quite a new adjustment of principles ; but the old moral principles — which are also ever new, as sunlight is new, and truth is new — are sufficient, and when our civilization comes up to the point of apply- ing them, all will be well, and we shall be far ahead. CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE. Now how is it with Christian doctrine ? It is often freely asserted that this is behind the times. And I do not deny that there have been, or that there are, doctrines held by Christians that are behind the times. But what is true Christian doctrine ? It is the result- 230 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. ant of the teachings of Scripture in relation to truth and duty, an emanation in scientific form from the les- sons of Revelation, of all it contains about God and man, time and eternity, human want, duty, privilege, destiny. Now this uprising and embodiment in exact statement of the very soul of Revelation, this genuine orthodox}-, is ever far before the church, above it, floating as an apparition over the Bible, too grand and divine to be fully and perfectly grasped and mastered by any single mind, or by the church in any single age. Creeds are not true orthodox}^. Ecclesiastical formulas are not. They are index-fingers, pointing in a poor human way towards it. Orthodox}^ the di- vine thing itself, is }^onder, where the Bible is, ahead of the church, ahead of interpreters, ahead of theolo- gians ; and they are, from age to age, pressing on to come up to it — some reluctantly, some by pressure of divine leadings, some of alacrity and good will, but in weakness. Written creeds as attempts to grasp this divine orthodoxy are human necessities, not necessarily or often bad, not bad in themselves at all. They are good when carried forward by those who hold them to their source and interpreted in a transparent way, when read in the divine blaze of the inspired truth under them. He who affects contempt for them and ridicules them, betrays his own doctrinal unjointed- ness, and mental looseness and superficiality. But creeds that the holders have suffered to slough off from Revelation and fall behind it, and which they treat as having an entity and worth of their own, and cherish as an end, instead of regarding as hints and a help, are unprofitable and lead to looking backwards. Of course, some of the old formulated statements on points of doctrine the church is abandoning — not the SERMONS. 231 old truths under them, but the old statements ; into others she is putting new meanings ; and on other points she is in the act of slowly stammering out new statements to meet her advancing conceptions of Scripture. She looks, indeed, at the Apostles' Creed, the Athanasian Creed, the Westminster Catechism, the Thirty-nine Articles, the Savoy Confession, the Boston Declaration ; but she does not look back to them, and rest her vision there. She looks at them as she looks forward, and reads through them, and under them, and beyond them, and above them, the far richer and diviner theology of Revelation, using them as helps and hints, not as the exhaustive and perfect statement. And so the genius of orthodoxy lives on in the church, and maintains its substantial continuity and identit}^ from age to age, slowly advancing towards the rounded and symmetrical and just orthodoxy w r hich rises in idea from Scripture. So the great doc- trines of depravity and guilt, inspiration, probation, redemption, pardon, new life, prayer, the divinity of Christ, the Trinity, heaven and hell, underlie the Christian faith of all the ages, and put them in one line with the marching theology. CENTRAL FIGURE OF CHRISTIANITY. Again, how is it with the central figure in the Christian faith — the Divine Lord and Saviour? Does Christianity merely call her votaries to serve a histor- ical Christ, to take up with a Christ of dead genera- tions, to add themselves to the end of a darkening procession coming down from the sepulcher, to stand and look with wistful eyes towards the receding glo- ries that shone around Bethlehem, Capernaum, Beth- any, the Temple, and the Mount of Olives, going 232 ISRAEL EDSON DWINEEE. backward through the world in order to look as long- as possible towards Christ, and feeling that they are ever farther from their Light ? Never, never ! It furnishes a living Christ, a risen Christ, a Christ in the heavens, above, beyond, in front ; interceding for us, stooping towards us, drawing us on ; a light, a joy, an inspiration ahead. True, the church takes up the his- torical portraiture, believes in it, honors it ; but carries that portrait forward and looks through it at the Lord above. True, also, it modifies somewhat, from time to time, its conception of the portrait. But what of that ? It is not a conception it is serving, nor a por- trait, but a living person. It is not a bundle of history it is worshipping, but the divine Lord, once appearing in history, now in the lighted world above, and com- ing in blessed nearness and fellowship to all believing ones. It takes up, as far as able, all that is in the history, the work, the life, the teachings, the exam- ple, the sacrificial death and atonement ; takes it all up, and then on the strength of this, and by means of this as wings, soars away to the living, helping, sav- ing Christ above and be}^ond. Christianity, brethren, is thus a religion of expect- ancy. It holds up its blessings in the future, in ad- vance, towards the rim of time, as well as beyond time. It is a religion that puts its followers on march- ing orders ; and this carries with it the necessity of making changes, of leaving certain things, and ad- vancing to new quarters. It is a marching religion, in relation to its works, ideals, ethics, doctrines, and divine Lord. This truth is a light, as w T ell as a truth, shining over a broad region of fact, and helping us to understand certain things which else might be per- plexing. SERMONS. 233 PERSONS OF A GEOOMY TURN. I will mention two or three of them. It helps us to understand why some good men, who hold the Chris- tian faith as they have come to believe it very tena- ciously, take a despondent view of the prospects of Christianity. In every age there have been persons of this gloomy turn in the church. They like the old forms and ways, and commit the common mistake of supposing they are inseparable from the substance. They see the process of removal. Parties are taking down tents and pitching them elsewhere. Fragments of sacred furniture are scattered and left. The old lines and order are disturbed. Enterprises once sacred are abandoned or have become weakened, and new ones undertaken. Old ideals cease to fire enthusiasm, and many persons are going after new loves, and they know not whether these loves are divine. Even some por- tions of the ancient formulas of orthodoxy are ques- tioned, and others abandoned altogether. They see these things, and are troubled. They forget that we have not as yet ' ' come to the rest and to the inher- itance " which the Eord our God giveth us. They seem to think we have come to it, or our fathers came to it long ago ; and that these things are signs that we are going awa}^ from it, instead of really being signs that we are advancing towards it. They see the Prov- idence that shaped the Christianity of the past, but see no Providence presiding over the movements of Chris- tianity now. They observe the raveling edge of the divine web, but not the edge that is knitting and weav- ing together. They see the things left behind, but understand not the new gains and conquests. They think that Christianity ought to be doing the old things 16 234 ISRAEL KDSON DWINELL. in the old way ; and because it is not, but is doing some new things in new ways, they mourn over its signs of life as over decay. They need a deeper, broader, truer view ; a front view instead of a rear view. VISIONARIES. This subject helps us to understand the mistake made in an opposite direction by a class of visionaries and anti-Christian schemers. They think that the forms and usages of Christianity are all there is to it ; and looking at the changes and magnifying them, and tak- ing no account of the abiding under-principles, they imagine that it is slowly changing its character. See- ing only the new side, they fancy it is about to bre k away from its connections with the past, and become a new religion, and meet them in a kind of eclectic pa- ganism. Not perceiving that the modifications relate to the externals, not to the substance, and that there is a line of divine continuity running through it in all ages, giving it unity, they congratulate themselves that they are soon to have it as an ally. Foolish hope ! Christianity is to turn no summersaults. It is to leap into no revolutions. It will disappoint those who are waiting to have it run out into broad Churchism, or Pantheism, or Liberalism ; or take sides w T ith Infidelity ; or make friends with Free Lovers or Internationals, or Spiritualists, and expunge the law of God, and set up in its place a human lust and passion. It is, and ever will be, the old and the new Christianity still, wearing a slowly changeable dress, made necessary on account of her growth and changing circumstances, but which becomes even more bright and glistening as she ad- vances, with the radiant spirit of the Lord shining from her through it. SERMONS. 235 WHY SOME PROPHESY DECLINE. In the light of this subject we can also understand why some persons who have no S3 7 mpathy with Chris- tianity announce its decline and early death. They go round and pick up pieces of its sloughed skin ; they hunt for fragments of shell which the mighty but still young crustacean has outgrown and torn off ; put these bits and shreds together, catalogue and label them, and frame a proclamation to the world that Christianity is dead, or dying, and these are the proofs of it. They are diggers of fossils, — searchers among graves and tombs. They have the instinct of hyenas, jackals, buzzards, and hover about the rear of the great advanc- ing army for the waste and putrescence left behind. All this they see ; but they perceive not the living, working, thronging army out in the open air and broad day in advance, going on to higher and brighter serv- ice, massing its columns, multiplying its forces, and making the thick shadows of the kingdom of darkness retire farther and farther. It is, morally and spiritually, a mightier power on the earth now than ever before, having more influence over the faiths and lives of men ; yet they see it not, and resolve its influence into the strange persistence of human credulity. More money, more energy and thought, more men, than in any other age, are in this freely consecrated to carry it into new lands or among neglected populations ; and they have no appreciation of the facts. In 1873, as I learn by a summary prepared by Rev. M. M. G. Dana, the Evan- gelical churches of the United States reported a mem- bership of 5,400,000, about one-seventh of the whole population, and almost one-fourth of all above fifteen years of age ; and in 1870, the Protestants reported, in 236 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. the census, church property to the amount of $293,- 498,015, and church-sittings for 19,674,548 persons, an increase of 1 1 per cent in the last ten years, while the church property was more than double what it was in i860. If such facts indicate decline of faith in Chris- tianity, the decline must be, like Darwin's "Descent of Man, " a decline upwards. EBBS AND FLOWS. True, in the mixing up of nationalities and systems in these times, the communities once almost wholly Christian have opened their ranks, and received among them foreign elements of doubt and skepticism from heterogeneous quarters, so that there are no more any such homogeneous Christian communities as there once were. True, also, unbelief is now voiced and jubilant, and occupies noisy places. Fifty unbelievers could be named in the United States who make more noise than a thousand modest, humble Christians of far more culture, learning and parts, whose names also could be given. The declarations of faith do not startle the public, and therefore the press is not eager to take them up and report them. Christianity flows on as a quiet, broad, mighty, swelling river — almost a sea ; infidelity as a stormy, muddy, wild mountain torrent. True, once more, Christianity advances by a law of flows and ebbs at any one point, but in the large field of the world the flows exceed the ebbs, as when the tide is coming in. It grows as a tree grows, which has its times of shedding leaves and seeming to lose ground , which, however, are really times of preparation and waiting for a new start of life. It ma} T seem to lose here and there, now and then, but it is only to gain so much the more in the end, or elsewhere. Christ is SERMONS. 237 " head over all things to the Church, " and makes all things serve her. Further, if the fact that men are changing some of the externals of their Christian faith and practice proves a general decline in Christianuy, then, for the same reason it must be conceded, there is a much greater decline among their respective votaries of faith, in science, education, and the practical arts ; for, in all these, men are giving up old positions and hurrying into new ones, to an extent inconceivably greater than is true in the case of Christianity. Yet science, educa- tion and the practical arts are not dying out, nor men's faith in them. They live on in new and more vigorous forms ; and so will Christianity, which passes through no such fluctuations and metamorphoses, live on. ONWARD THE WATCHWORD. My friends, it is this religion which you are invited to ally 3 T ourselves with, and aid with soul, body and fortune. It is this religion which you are asked to help put in all the unoccupied regions of our land, and other lands also ; a marching religion, a religion that holds up something before the world, and then reaches down and undergirds humanity, and helps it up towards it. When you give your money to it, when you give your influence to it, when you give your faith to it, when you give yourself to it, ycu do not throw your gift backwards towards the rear of civilization and the world's progress, but forwards towards its rising day. Thus we see, brethren, that the whole genius of our religion commits us to aggressive movement here in America. There is no looking back, no standing still. Onward is the watchword ; onward against the strongholds of sin ; onward against the powers of 238 ISRAEL EDSON DWINEEL. darkness ; onward, till gospel light and privilege pene- trate every alley and cellar in our cities, every camp and cabin on our mountains, and thread every high- way across our plains. Onward against the great mountain of intemperance, till it becomes a plain ; against the social evil, till it disappears ; against super- stition, till it is no more ; onward, till bereaved men and women no longer ask solemn counsel of their own fancies, mysteriously conjured forth from secret hiding- places in their souls, and reported back to their senses as if they were visitors from another world ; onward, till purity wins office, and honesty and capacity hold it ; onward, till frauds cease, and public virtue equals public intelligence ; onward, till men honor God, and are as eager to obey his laws as to know how to use them ; onward, onward, till Christ comes, and again says — not referring to the preparatory work, but the whole superstructure of the world's redemption resting on it — " It is finished ! " Onward, onward, till " the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and his Christ " — " for ye are not as yet come to the rest and to the inheritance which the Lira 1 your God giveth you." II. *THE ASSAILED BUT SOXQUERIXG BOOK. " / am the Lord that maketh all things ; that frustrateth the toke?is of the liars, and maketh diviners mad; that turneth wise men backward, and maketh their knowledge foolish; that confirmeth the word of his servant, and performeth the counsel of his messenger.'''' — Isaiah 44; 24.-26. Here is a book — an old book — portions of it more than 3,300 years old, and the latest written nearly 1,800 years ago. Why is it here? It has come in conflict with man}' human systems. It was put into the world of books a stranger, without peer or helper among the books, in an uncongenial atmosphere, and has been ever since the object of ceaseless attacks, open and covert. Yet, strange to say, looked at simply as a literary peculiarity, it is an overcoming book. It is endowed not only with some mysterious propert}^ of life, of indestructibility, but also of conquest. It lives on but to conquer. It vanquishes its assailants, and holds the ground once occupied by them, while the}', one after another, disappear and are forgotten. It is plain that for some reason the Bible is an overcoming book. CONFLICTING BOOKS DIE. In no age has it alone proposed to man a spiritual system, a revelation, or the light he needs for his * Preached in Sacramento, June 10, 1875. 24O ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. guidance and safety. In every age it has had compet- itors that offered easy, acceptable and different terms of welfare and bliss. Yet this remarkable fact meets us all along the line of history, that those systems come and go — come with all the novelty, attraction and ad- vantages of starting in a new age and profiting by the accumulated wisdom, and promising to be a finalit3 T , and go smitten with premature deca} r or antiquity into oblivion, to make room for successors which repeat the process ; while the book survives, and never in its spirit and moral uses becomes old, any more than light be- comes old, or fire or truth or beauty. Look back across the centuries. Where are the systems which were once the proud theologies and religious philosophies of men, but whose very names are now strange or histor- ical only ? Where are the writings of Celsus, Julian the Apostate ; of the Gnostics, the Neo Platonists, the Manichaeans, the Ghibell.nes ; of Lord Herbert, Hoppe, the Earl of Shaftsbury, Toland, Collins, Lord Boling- broke, Hume, Paine ; of the scoffing Voltaire, of Diderot and other spiritual levelers of the Encyclope- dia, and of Rousseau, eulogizing a state of nature as the supreme felicity ? Their S3^stems, as furnishing a reli- gion or a substitute for one, now slumber, and no one dreams of finding in any or all of them the way of life. For such purposes they are forgotten. They are cast off as the worthless exuviae of past ages. They lie as the dust which the Bible, as it has traveled down the centuries, raised, and which filled the air for a short time, but soon settled, and now shnpfy marks the track of the triumphal progress of the overcoming look. You would as soon think of exhuming your religion from the Zendavesta of the Parsees, the Puranas of the Hindoos, the mythology of the Greeks, or the legends SERMONS. 241 •of the Scandinavians, as from them. The}' are searched and valued now simply as fossils, petrifactions of the dead past, hints for the historical resurrection of buried ages. THE NATURE OF THE BOOK TO LIVE. Yet while these and like books are soon displaced, are in their very nature and make up perishable and transient, the Bible betrays no such symptoms. It passes quietly and calmly down the ages, like a proph- et endowed with immortal youth, ever loved and hon- ored, and speaking living words to living souls ; or like a great spiritual sun, raying out into the darkness light just as fresh today as when it first began to shine —an ever-living and overcoming book, as if it were the nature of books to live and not to die, and' as if there were nothing strange and exceptional in its continu- ance. STRANGENESS AND SIGNIFICANCE OF THE FACT. Bear in mind in considering the strangeness of this fact, that the Bible makes no appeal to the lower na- ture and passions, or the prejudices of man or society. It finds at first no natural allies. It makes no friends till it has conquered their love from opposition or in- difference. It makes its way by a mighty conquest. Its life, moreover, and its aggressive power are moral, not those of the sword. It has no friends but such as choose to be. It reigns in the heart. It commands the homage of conscience. Man at first has a disrel- ish for it ; then, moved by moral and spiritual motives, reaches out and takes it, and then offers it to his broth- ers. Its victories are victories over the soul. Its suc- cesses represent the approval of so many minds and 242 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. hearts. The successes of Islam represent so much force and passion ; of the Copernican system of astron- omy, so much intelligence ; of the American arms, so much patriotism and bravery ; the success of the Bible, so many approving reasons, consciences, wills — the highest homage of so many awakened and immortal souls. No other book, no other system, no other ciuse, has a success which means so much, which covers such a vast underlay of noble things, the assent of so much in man, reaching all the way from the high- est approval and exercise of the soul to the most trivial service of the fingers — the assent, in a word, of the whole man. CONQUERING POWER OF THE BOOK. And remember, again, in considering the Bible as the overcrowning Book, that it does not merely live with a narrow and thin line of believers, across the centuries, but that there has been a great and increas- ing host gathering around it. Profound and signifi- cant as its successes are in the individual — running all through the soul of man as electricity runs through his body — they are broad and enlarging also. Many in every Christian century have found in it their faith, fastened on it their hopes, and clung to its promises as to the hand of God. It has steadily, and to large and accumuating numbers, furnished the vital religion of Christendom ; and, far beyond the acknowledged cir- cle of its influence, it shapes the general thinking and feeling of multitudes. There is not another book at this moment that has a thousandth part of the power over mankind, which this has ; and the same is true of any age since the completion of the canon. Go back to what century you please of the Christian era, and SERMONS. 243, still the Bible was then the living Book — the one Book which, for some reason, most influenced men, taking the deepest, strongest, longest hold on them. It meets other books in their own age, at the moment of their freshness and greatest power, and yet it is then more a living Book than they. It meets them on their own ground, and, if antagonistic to it, overcomes them — it nestling snugly in many human hearts, more prized than life, cherished almost as a part of the soul, while they excite at most a superficial curiosity or en- thusiasm, and pass away. This was the case in its first great contest, when it met the paganism of Greece and Rome closely interwoven with the existing domes- tic, social and civil life ; it survived and that fell. This was the case when it first encountered the relig- ion of the barbarians who overran and conquered Rome ; it conquered those rude conquerors. This was the case when, subsequently, in the Middle Ages, the hierarchy claimed and exercised in their councils the power of erecting traditions to a power of authority equal to the Sacred Scriptures ; it sprang from the unholy alliance in the Reformation, and traditions waned. This was the case in each of the four great modern issues, which may be vaguely designated with reference to the source of the respective movements as the issue with English infidelity and the issue with French atheism, in the last century, and the issue with German philosophy and the issue with materialistic science, in the present ; for here, also, so far as re- sults have reached a finality, as in the first three, the Bible is the book of life and power, and they are the systems of defeat and death ; and although we are in the midst of the conflict with the fourth, there is no more doubt what the result will be here than if it were 244 ISRAEL KDSON DWINELL. already reached. Materialism has no light to give be- wildered man, and must give place to God's word, which has such a light. WHY THE BOOK IS HERE. If, now, we raise the inquiry, " Why is this book here ? " or, in other words, ' ' Why is it an overcoming book? " we shall find a sufficient reason to be, because it is God's book, and God made it to live. Its origin is, professedly, unlike that of all other productions ; and the more one knows of it, is in sympathy with it, and comprehends it, the more he perceives that the fact justifies the claim. The evidences of its Divine source come rolling in on the spirituality-awakened and docile soul, the Godly and kindred mind, with cumulative power. It has, indeed, a human element of form, manner, instrumentality, mingled with the Divine element of substance, matter, purpose, object ; but it is still properly called God's book. In it He re- veals Himself, His doings and His will, so far as He deems it necessary for the use of man. He reveals Himself in nature. He reveals Himself in the human soul. But it is here, and only here, that He reveals Himself in a book. GOD MADE IT TO LIVE. Now because it is His book, and His great book- medium of communicating His will to man — timeless man, man in all ages subsequent to its origin — He watches over it, that it may live. The same omniscient wisdom and creative power and skill that in some way, no matter what, swung our earth out into space, amid the countless attractions and disturbing forces of the universe, and yet, anticipating them all, causes it to SERMONS. 245 pass through them undisturbed, hold on its way and fulfill its mission ; an enduring world, though comets dash past, and satellites swing around, and planets brush by, and the whole solar system, all in a move- ment within itself, is sweeping on somewhere through the outlying universe filled with systems of worlds of its own ; forecast the track and perils of the Bible when he sent it on its mission, prepared it accordingly, and will guide it safely through them. No false revelation or wild assault of perverted genius will, accordingly ^ be allowed, like a comet, to strike it and wrap it in flames. No sister revelation of God in nature or the soul will break out from its own path, like an unorbed planet, and dash it in pieces. And as it holds on its way through the Universe of letters and books, no one of them will come in collision with it, to turn it out of its course. For it is God's book, and he made it to live ; and, therefore, it is an overcoming book. ITS SPIRIT IMMORTAL. Besides, God has put an immortality into it which tends to preserve it by its own energy. This is the spirit of the book, ' ' My words, they are spirit and they are life." As the Divine element in the soul, the Di- vine image put into it by the original purpose and cre- ation of God, with such aid as God is pleased to add to carry out the purpose, bears the soul up amid all ex- posures and makes it immortal, so that you cannot destroy it by any assaults, and it laughs at pistols and swords and fagots, and even the crash of worlds, so the Divine element, the spirit, which God has put in His book, with such help as he is pleased to continue to bestow, makes it indestructible and immortal, and skeptics and enemies assail it in vain. This book lives .246 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. and overcomes because there is Divine soul in it ; other books are overcome and die because they are human and have no such soul. ' ' The word of our God shall stand forever." Ghosts die, spirits live. A BOOK OF TRUTH. Again, this book is a revelation of truth. It is not only God's book, but its contents are an unfolding of important spiritual facts. It lifts the veil from a hidden world, which we are already in — the world of spiritual realities and relations — and discloses all that it is nec- essary for us to see for our safe conduct. It is tme taper which lights up the dark cave to the traveler, who must find his way safely through and out, or perish. Truth lives, error dies ; therefore the Bible lives. "Truth," sa}^s Milton, "is strong next to the Al- mighty." "Thy word is true from the beginning; and every one of thy righteous judgments endureth forever." IT WEDS ITSELF TO THE SOUL. And another element in the overcoming power of the Bible is the fact that it is not only truth, but truth adapted to the spiritual condition and wants of man. It is truth playing into the needs and laws of the soul. It is truth that is just as much designed for spiritual nourishment and health as food for bodily support. It is truth in relation to man as needing salvation. It is truth that fits the soul, as a mother's love and care fit the helpless babe. It comes down to man just as he is, and furnishes just the light and guidance he needs, that he may be raised up to glory. It recognizes these three great central facts, and provides for them, which must be done in any religious system, or it is worth- SEK.MONS. 247 less : Man a sinner needing pardon and cleansing, the necessity of an atonement, and the reality and presence of a personal Saviour. And around these centers it groups all the collaterals and aids of a perfect gospel, which, like the Sabbath, is made for man, not man for that ; and all this it hands over to him with the varied attractions and persuasions of varied letters — historic, poetic, logical, rhetorical ; in type, prophecy, symbol, parable, warning, exhortation, command. The con- sequence is that the Bible lays itself on the human soul receiving it ; nay, more, penetrates and weds itself to it in all its parts and powers, clasping them with vital bands, and living with its life. It is thus grown into the soul in inseparable union. Other books men can lay aside, forget, suffer to be taken from them or go into oblivion ; but this, if loved as God's book, they will cling to at the stake, the inquisitor's rack, through fire and flood, and the loss of all things earthly. And I venture that you, my friends, as little as you may have thought you love the Bible, would, every one of you, give up all other books before you would consent to have this put beyond reach, and would be willing to fight unto the death before you would allow it to be wrested from you by any combination of its enemies. This is an overcoming book because of the devotion to it of human souls, especially of such as have found in it the way of life, a Saviour, the will of God, and the hopes of a blessed immortality. IT IDENTIFIES ITSELF WITH THE LIFE OF CIVILIZATION. Furthermore, it should be remembered that the Bi- ble, wherever it goes and finds a real lodgment, creates around it the institutions of civilization and humanity. 248 ISRAEL KDSON DWINELL. It populates the land with powerful friendships and supporters. It penetrates the living interests of so- ciety, and in connection with them, at once blending with them and moulding them, weds itself with the so- cial fabric. And such, in a short time, is its hold on the organized vitalities, the institutions and customs of a Christian community, that you will be obliged to tear down the social structure, with all its civilization and humanity, to extirpate the Bible and its influence ; and if you arrest the Bible and its influence, 3'ou begin the work of social demolition. It is this power of the Bible to produce all humane and noble things, inter- weave itself with them, and buttress itself with them, that is another element of its endurance and progress. SUGGESTED EXCEPTIONS. The only books that can be suggested to a historical mind as a possible exception to these remarks is the Koran, and possibly some of the writings of Confucius and of the mystics of India. But consider that the issue between the Koran and the Bible is not yet settled ; that at this moment the Koran is slowly melting away before the Bible, under the influence of moral forces, to say nothing of other causes ; and that, up to the present generation, the Bible never came into actual moral or intellectual contact with it. Islamism was formerly walled around by physical forces, more insur- mountable and repulsive than the Chinese wall, and was made absolutely inaccessible to the spiritual forces of Christianity. If the two S} T stems had all along been brought together on the moral arena — as for the first time they have been to some extent within a few years — and had fought it out there, the Koran would have been long ago an obsolete book. There has been real- SERMONS. 249 ly no issue between the Koran and the Bible, only be- tween the sword of Mohammed and the scepter of the Christian Powers, until our day. Here is no excep- tion to the position that the Bible is the overcoming book. The same is true of the sacred books of China and India, the continuance of which is to be ascribed, not so much to the intelligent research and conviction of individual minds, as to a certain national habit of hereditary transmission of faith, a blind momentum of doctrine resulting from peculiar national inertia and isolation. THE PAST AN INDICATION OF THE FUTURE. Thus, we have seen the remarkable history of this book, and the reasons for it. It is the strangely living and overcoming book. This is the fact all through the past down to the present. Will it be any less so in the future ? The reasons are in their nature unchang- ing — the Bible, ever God's book ; ever a revelation of truth ; ever a book of principles, not of forms ; ever adapted to the needs of the soul — will the result be dif- ferent hereafter ? Will the Bible, by and by, be less divine, or the other books more divine ! No ; we have reason to believe the same book, which alone has swept down the ages as the conquering book, will go on, conquering and to conquer, so long as man remains man and has the spiritual wants of a man. ' ' Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away." And this is the teaching of history and the voice of reason, as well as the testimony of Heaven. Yet, all through the Christian centuries, there have been those who, turning away from this, have sought elsewhere, in some of the cheap pretenses of the da}', a revelation and a religion for their souls ! Oh, how 17 250 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. blind to histoty, and the deeper facts which make his- tory ! How pitiful and brief the career of all books and systems and efforts that have hurled themselves against the Bible ! Yet, each new set, looking else- where for their panacea, expect that the last product, whatever it is, that bids for their acceptance and wins it, is the grand discovery for the soul of man ! And away they go, untaught by all the past, uninfluenced by the real facts of the present, charmed by the bril- liant colors of their bubble ! It is not difficult to foreknow the fate of am r system or effort brought forwaid to supplant the Bible. It will array itself against God and His providence. It will fail to satisfy the soul. It will soon demonstrate that it outlies the religion and realm of truth. And it will fail, as all its predecessors have failed. A CONTRAST. A great New England heresiarch in early life, some forty years ago, boasted that he would travel through the country, and by preaching and lecturing, revolu- tionize the theology of New England, strike out the traditional from men's faith, disburden the Scriptures of the supernatural and unhistorical, and establish the " absolute religion." And he did what he could. He traveled ; he lectured ; he preached ; he attacked ihe theology of the Bible, and the supernatural in the Bible, and thus the Bible. He used scarcasm and wit and eloquence, and beautiful letters. He drew great assemblies, and he thought, and men thought, he was a power in the land. Compared with him the buzzing against revelation within a few weeks in this city and elsewhere in the State, by a popular lecturer from the East, was, — for scholarship, science, philosophy, for skill in letters and in massing public opinion, and SKRMONS. 251 adaptation to lead off in a revolutionary movement, — for everything but assertion and brilliant declamation and arrogance in proclaiming a hostility to Christianity that justified itself by no basis of fact, or logic, or rea- son, and that rested solely on his own personality, but the peppering of Gibraltar with a revolver, compared with its steady bombardment with Krupp guns. Yet, notwithstanding this great heresiarch's efforts and ad- vantages, the Bible lived on and he failed. He built no institutions. He left no organized succession. He sowed no living seeds, — some such as are floating im- perceptibly in the air. Nothing positive of his build- ing survives ; nothing positive of his attacking in the Bible, or the theology of the Bible, or the supernatural of the Bible, has died. But a humble minister of Christ, without brilliant parts, without eloquence, or wit, or great worldly wisdom, without his self-con- scious pride, or towering ambition, or arrogant per- sonality, and with only moderate powers, yet, know- ing that God has put his mind in a book, and under- standing that mind, and knowing how to declare it plainly to his fellow men, without pretense or bluster or travel, has quietly labored in his parish, preaching God's word, and has seen his preaching taking root in schools and institutions of humanity, in the industries and virtues of the people, in all the beautiful graces of this life, and the assured hopes of the next ; and, dying, has left whole sowings of the precious seed to spring up in future harvests. Yes, yes, my brethren, in our day, here and elsewhere, the I^ord is the same. " He frustrateth the tokens of liars, he maketh diviners mad ; he turneth wise men backward, and maketh their knowledge foolish ; but he confirrneth the word of his servant, and performeth the council of his mes- sengers." III. * PROPERTY AN INSTRUMENT FOR MORAL TRAINING. " And God said, Let us make ma?i in our own image, after our likeness : and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.'''' — Gen. i : 26. The key to the solution of inany vexing questions in social science and political economy lies on the sur- face of Scripture. Philosophers overlooking that, and ranging among human speculations, multiply theories and beat the air. The foundation of the right of prop- erty is one of those questions that have long agitated philosophers ; and they have looked for it, to little purpose, in one direction and another, outside of Scrip- ture : in original discovery and appropriation, in the value labor imparts to things, in undisputed posses- sions, in the necessities of organized society. But, way back in the book of Genesis, at the very an- nouncement of the creation of man, we find the true theory. We there learn that property is fundamentally the gift of God to man. God made man to have do- minion over the earth and its products, to be a property owner; and he put the earth and its products under man, to be his property . Here is the foundation of that * Preached in Sacramento, March 19, 1876. 254 ISRAEL BDSON DWINKLL- right which philosophers, looking elsewhere, have chased in vain through endless fields of speculation ; and it lies on the surface at the front of Scripture. But this is not all this passage suggests. It couples this property-handling characteristic — a characteristic, so far as we know, peculiar to man, having little in the faintest degree analogous to it among the animal races, and nothing among angels — in immediate con- nection with man's moral being. " Let us make man in our image, after our likeness ; and let them have do - minion. ' ' This joining of man's property-seeking and property-holding nature to his moral nature, in the fundamental constitution of his earthly life, shows that it is the Divine intent that man should work out the problem of his freedom in connection with property . God thus indicates, from the start, that property is to be the element or the material, in connection with the seeking or handling of which the race as a race, how- ever it may be with particular persons, is to solve the great questions pertaining to the image of God within, — the questions of freedom, of character, of the welfare of the soul. This original foundation of the right of property, as the instrument of moral training, was re- affirmed to Noah and his sons, after the rest of the race had been swept away by the flood. God said to them : 1 ' Kvery moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you : even as the green herb have I given you all things." My subject will lead me to speak on these points : The Moral Purpose of the Gift of Property to the Race ; the Adaptation of Property to be an Instrument of Moral Training ; and some of the Ways in which we Train Ourselves by Means of it. We are apt to take a low view of the purpose of prop- SERMONS. 255 erty. Some think of it as related merely to subsist- ence. Others add to its uses for this purpose the aid it gives as a means of pleasure, indulgence, ostentation. Others add worldly power : others usefulness. Others regard it, apparently, as something to be accumulated for its own sake. And others look upon it, mainly, as one of the necessities of civilized life, and to be valued for its social uses. But high above all these is its de- sign to aid in our moral training. This view is main- tained by some of the best writers on political econo- my. It is possible to imagine that God might have instituted a s} T stem in which all our physical wants would have been met without ownership, by a method of spontaneous supplies, as in the case of birds and fishes. In this case we should have been deprived of a property basis for our spiritual education ; we should have been without the material instrument which we now occupy and use, and by means of which we shape character and destiny ; as weavers using the old-time loom sat on it, and by adroit movement of shuttle, beam and treadle wove the prized many-colored fdbric. The process is quite intelligible. Ownership, pres- ent or prospective, absorbs thought and energy, and keeps them from evaporating and disappearing like unbottled ether ; holds them where moral influences involved in the various transactions, coming upon them, may fix an indelible stamp on character. As paper, pencils, black-boards, are brought into use in learning arithmetic, and the young mind hovers over them to acquire a knowledge of numbers and to edu- cate thought ; as letters and words are studied and com- bined, and used, in that wonderful instrument, lan- guage, to help us up to the heights of science, history and poesy ; as the plays, disputes, occupations of chil- 256 ISRAEL EDSON DWINEEL. dren in a true home, all furnish the occasion and the basis for the ever watchful and ever brooding home training on the part of mother and father ; so owner- ship present or prospective, with its endless complica- tions of seekings, handlings, usings and losings, its involutions and evolutions of struggle and motive, presents the occasions around which a large part of the influences affecting the moral education of the race gathers, and is practically the instrument in the use of which character is largely determined. A man standing on property is thus writing his name among the stars or in the depths. He is occu- pied with questions of mine and thine, dealing with values, following adventures, pushing things, or mak- ing ends meet ; and his soul is robing itself for an un- ending flight upward or downward. His thought is occupied with affairs, investments, harvests, trade, pre- scriptions, briefs ; and at the same time, a moral con- dition is settling down on him as insensibly and cer- tainly as the gathering shadows of approaching night or the increasing light of coming day. His purpose is altogether common-place and vulgar, perhaps, a question in the trashy arithmetic of dollars and cents, and the issue is a tragedy, the final act of which will be brought out at the judgment. He fan- cies, it may be, that in this department of his life he is working only on the lower side of his nature, provid- ing things necessary for the body, and is leaving in- intact and unprejudiced all his higher interests ; but these very secularities are a training instrument for the fashioning of his higher being, and when he comes to himself it is fashioned, or largely so. Property, then, has a moral purpose. And it has characteristics which eminently lit it for this design. SERMONS. 257 111 the first place it is an innocent instrument. There is no stain on property in itself. It presents no snare, no weight, no obstruction, in the way of moral life. As God gave and intended it, it holds out absolutely inno- cent arms, white as snow, pure as crystal, to welcome those whose moral training is to go on in connection with it. Many think differently, and speak of it as if its origin were from beneath, and it were a mere trap in which to catch souls and drag them down to perdition. This is an impeachment of the wisdom and goodness of God, who devised property and bestowed it on the race before the fall, during the state of inno- cency. No damage then can come from it, in its original nature, to moral training, Again, it is primarily a passive instrument. It is something not to train us, but for us to train ourselves with, like dumb-bells. It has no power in itself, only as we give it power to make us great and good, or low and bad. We carry over to it and put into it its moral animus. It has the peculiar adaptation to moral train- ing, that we can dim its influence on us as we please. We can travel upwards or downwards by means of it, at our option. It is not an instrument that is greater than its master and outworks him, but remains morally obedient to his will, unless he himself fires it up and puts on the steam, causing it to run away with him. It lies in our hand, a great elemental force, indifferent whichever way it goes and what it does, till we give it the spark and the christening that makes it godly to us, or the venom that makes it devilish. It is also a facile and flexible instrument. It is capa- ble of aiding men in all the sinuosities and eccentrici- ties of their moral life — in all their high struggles and aspirations, in all their depressions and desperations. 258 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. The love of it, or the struggle for it, or the use of it, or the loss of it, or the contempt for it — property in some form — lies back of aim st all of their soul history, and often not far back, as an accomplice or a foe, and equall3 T as an element of moral discipline whether accomplice or foe. So it follows them, and gives them a hand in the rounds of innocent joy, lofty endeavor, home life, church life, state life and Christian enter- prise. In like manner, all the approaches and purlieus of the life below — themeanderings of vice and dissipa- tion, the dark lanes of hate and crime, the nesting- places of corruption — men go down into these and feel their way through them, leaning on the same staff. Vary the motive as you will. Give it any direction you please, or any emphasis, or any hint in that direction, and this responsive agent is present withits ubiquitous influence. It is the most flexible and universal instru- ment known, singularly adapted for all manner of uses of moral beings during their training period. It is no less the currency of loves and hates, benevolence and crime, art and destructiveness, worship and impiety, than of drink, food, shelter, travel. It is the element that comes into play in the endearments of affection, the struggles of learning and patriotism, as well as in the building of houses and the interchange of trade. Further, it is, in its influence, an accessible instru- ment. It thrusts its power in some way within the reach of all. Strange to say, its efficacy does not de- pend on the amount of it in one's possession or owner- ship, nor even whether it be possible for him or not. It is the way in which one bears himself towards it, whether in his possession or ownership, or out of it — the motives with which he seeks it, and the uses to which he would put it— it is this that decides the in- SERMONS. 259 fluence of this great factor on character. A poor man is under its training by means of his efforts to gain it, possibly by his envyings, or the bad uses of the little he has, as really as the rich man. All the perils of the love of gain are not on the side of the wealthy. A man may use it to debase himself, who is not worth a dime ; or he may use it to elevate himself, if he is worth millions. On the other hand, one may be helped by his poverty, or he may be ruined by his possessions. The rich and the poor are both trained b}^ this all but universal trainer, although in very different ways. But it would be difficult to say which are the most trained, or the best or the poorest trained. We see, then, how admirably contrived, in this par- ticular also, this instrument is for the training of the race, inasmuch as its presence or absence, its excess or deficiency, its easy abundance or smarting want, alike furnish the condition for the special trial to which Providence has consigned each man, and under which, at the peril of his soul, he must settle the question of character. Once more, it is a reactionary instrument. In itself, as we have seen, it has no moral character or quality — it is negative ; but it becomes charged with our own moral quality as we pursue it ; and, so charged, it re- acts upon us. Every man's possession, thus infused with his spirit, bears his own likeness, and so comes to have a separate educating quality of its own, and edu- cates him still further in his chosen way. Blood-stained dollars have the guilt, fatality, treach- ery, of accomplices after the fact stamped in their nature ; and follow, and haunt, and threaten the pos- sessor, like furies, beguiling him into other crimes, and finally betraying him. A miser's money is his 260 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. double, and stimulates him, at sight or thought, like the society of a brother miser. A generous man's gains stand up before him like the angel Charity, ask- ing to be sent on some errand of mercy. A spend- thrift sees in every dollar he can get hold of a friend in sorry imprisonment, longing for release and indul- gence ; and he hastens to set it free as soon as possible, and follows it till it disappears. Gold has the moral color of its owner stamped upon it, and this, in turn, strikes through his hands as he handles it, and tinges his soul. As a river that overflows its banks leaves a deposit on shore, indicating the kind of soil it has run through and the kind of drift it bears, so the streams of Plutus leave a deposit all along the character, in each case showing what kind of a life they have issued from, and what kind of moral elements the}- are freighted with. Thus the property we have not but which we seek, as well as the property in our hands — property which, in the first instance, was entirely in- nocent and negative — becomes imbued with the quality of our own motives and aims as we seek or use it, and draws us after it. Many a man is turning into the moral complexion of his dollars. Witness the man of the saloon, sporting men, gamblers in stocks. Wit- ness the substantial yeoman, tradesman, profession- alise Witness the lover of his country, the lover of his race, the lover of Christ. Each has stamped back on himself the hue of himself — a hue which he first imparted to it. Such is the instrument which is so conspicuous in the moral training of men ; in its own nature innocent and passive ; perfectly flexible, and obedient to all the wishes of moral beings ; accessible to all, and ever pres- ent by its influence ; and capable of being charged by SERMONS. 26l the individual with a positive moral power to mould and fix his character. It is a wonderful device, sin- gularly adapted to beings of mixed natures like ours, to give us a fair trial, because subservient to freedom. Now, what are some of the ways in which we train ourselves by means of it ? We train ourselves by the motives with which we seek it. These may be any one of a million, by which different persons are impelled in its pursuit ; but what- ever one it is, the strain put upon that strengthens it. So in the pursuit of property, one is really put on a run towards the moral end pointed at in his motive, and the faster and the harder he runs for property the faster and the harder he runs into that moral enclosure, and shuts himself up in it. We train ourselves by the methods employe! in seek- ing it! All the moral and all the immoral methods await our bidding. We employ whichever we please * but those which we summon to our aid, whether the right or the wrong or the mixed, enter as powerful elements into the question of character. One unright- eous principle incorporated into our business, running in and out and combining its parts, like a needle and thread sewing a seam, is enough to stitch unrighteous- ness into a man's soul for eternity ; and if our business is bad in itself, then it becomes a sink into which we throw our immortality to go down to perdition. A righteous business, on the other hand, conducted in an upright way, helps the soul upward. We train ourselves by the uses to which we put our property. A person on a raft by means of a pole pushes himself along, raft and all, in a given direction towards an end. His headway is determined by his pushing. So a man and his property interests are 262 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. morally aimed in a certain direction, and he advances toward it by property pushes — by expenditures here and there on the way ; and the nature and number of pushes, in no small degree, decide the character of the journey. One may use his money so that, as dollar after dollar goes, it will add momentum to his course downward, or so that it will send him upward. Con- secrated money acts on the soul like angels' wings; that spent in the service of sin like the wings of a demon. We train ourselves, further, by the way in which we bear the loss of property. Sometimes it vanishes sud- denty. If we then fret, murmur, quarrel with Provi- dence, become sour, we put on a Nissus shirt, which poisons and maddens the soul ; if we accept submis- sively, trustfully, bravely, the trial, and look above, it carries us above like a chariot of fire. Eoss is a sharp educator in the one way or the other. We train ourselves, also, by the objects to which we leave it. Persons who have propel, generally look forward to the objects that are finally to come into possession of it by inheritance, will or gift, and so far give their character an impulse in that direction. If one plans and provides a blessing for mankind, and arranges for a living agency to work for the glory of God when he is gone, he wraps himself up in the bene- fits of that purpose beforehand, and holds them in per- petuity. Every rich person, by making a will and anchoring himself to some grand charity, institution of Christian learning, or missionary enterprise, ma)' secure in this way a powerful impulse upward ; while he who thinks only of leaving his property to ignoble uses is borne downward by the unconscious gravita- tion of this thought. Every person of means, there- SERMONS. 263 fore, should make his will,* not only for the purpose of fixing upon good objects to which his property shall go, but also to have the benefit during life of the up- lift that conies from the feeling that he holds his prop- erty in trust for grand interests looking to the glory of God. Such is the high office of property in connection with our earthly training, whether we have much of it, or little, or none. The instinct that prompts us to seek it, the fact that we are obliged to put ourselves in some kind of moral relation to it and handle more or less of it, and the fact that its absence tests charac- ter quite as much as its presence does, make it equally efficacious for this purpose, whatever the amount. It is not designed to have an independent educating pow- er, but to be obedient to the will of him who uses it without prejudicing his freedom. It does not lead us only as the horse we drive leads us. We should look upon it and the way we bear ourselves towards it, therefore, as involving all the sanctity and sublimit}^ of a means for defining our character. It is an instru- ment by the use of which we are to define our spirit, our disposition, our selfishness, — if we have it, — our pride, our covetousness, love of pleasure, want of prin- ciple, even dishonesty, passion, malice ; or, if we will it, our faith in God, love of right, generosity, desire to do good, and uprightness of heart. Think, my friends, as you go out from day to day into the arena in which you encounter the issues of property, that it is no mere playground for restless fac- ulties, no mere race-course with fierce competitors for * Dr. Dwinell, in his will, left bequests to the American Board of Com- missioners for Foreign Missions, the American Home Missionary Society and the Pacific Theological Seminary. 264 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. an earthly prize, no mere work-shop in which to earn daily bread, no board of chance from which you hope to sweep in the stakes that will enable you to live in wantonness ; but a school, rather, in which you are to test and settle your character. Nay, think of it as a holy temple, in which, whatever others may do, you will worship, praise and serve God, and where you will adorn A^our soul with the practical principles of love and Godliness, so that when you go forth from it, you may go forth beautiful in soul and ennobled. The silk- worm weaves its covering of silk about it, in which it undergoes the change, and thence emerges with wings adapted for its new sphere and service. So live, so weave about you the threads that come from the relations of property — the threads of honest seekings, generous givings, pure usings and conse- crated holdings — that you may undergo, in the midst of this environment, the great transformation that will fit you for the life above ; so that, when you emerge from it, and leave it forever behind, 3^011 may have all the organs and preparations to go at once and be ever- more with Christ in the new sphere and home above. IV. ♦UNCONSCIOUS HELP FROM GOD. "I taught Ephraim also to go, taking them by their arms ; but they knew not that I healed them. I drew them with the cords of a man, with bands of love." — Hosea n : 3-4. In an Italian painting the central figure is a small boy, said to represent humanity. The boy, possessed of luring passions and appetites and evil impulses, is thoughtless and unsuspicious. Before him in the dis- tance is Satan, waiting with malicious leer, fiendish exultation, and horrid looks, to have him come for- ward and fall into his hands. An angel descending near the boy, and unseen by him, thrusts a shield be- fore his eyes, so that he cannot see Satan nor his peril, and at the same time directs his attention upward, to safety in the skies. The effect of this invisible and supernatural interposition is to change the course of the boy, and lead him away from the destroyer. This is an illustration of the way in which God often interposes to save us from destruction and do us good without our knowledge. This habit of his is brought out in the text. The prophet represents God as tell- ing how he has taken care of his people from their na- tional infancy up, — how, like a mother of the olden *Preached in Sacramento, April 20, 1879, and subsequently in San Fran- cisco, Oakland and Grass Valley, Cala., in Orange, X. J., East Calais, Vt., and Honolulu. 18 266 ISRAEL EDSOX DWIXELL. time, he taught theni to walk, first taking them by the arms, then leading them by soft cords, and after that using easy and gentle bands, and when they had fallen and hurt themselves, had raised them up and healed them, — and all this, often without their knowledge, coming to them as an invisible presence, an ever alert and unknown benefactor. ' ' I taught Ephraim also to go, taking them by their arms ; but they knew not that I hmled them. I drew them with the cords of a man, with bands of love." This brings God before us in an interesting and beautiful light. My subject is Unconscious Help from God. It is not strange that God, who is love, and is every- where present, should have mysterious ways of fore- fending evil and doing us good. He is the soul of the world, and he thinks, plans, acts good, and in num- berless ways thwarts evil, giving it only a limited range. Even Herbert Spencer, who seems touched by a sense of the underlying beneficence, makes this back handed confession : ' ' There is no vice in the constitution of things. " No vice in the constitution of things ! No, no ! but a far-reaching, thoughtful, piti- ful, lurking, overtaking helpfulness. The mystery is not, with God 's goodness and wealth of resources and our limited capacity for comprehending his ways, that he should have methods of helping us and we not know them, but that we should be able to see so much of his kindness. The strangeness is not that there are hiding places in which he conceals his help all along the path- way of life, in nature, in events, in conditions, circum- stances and experiences ; but that so man}' of these interpositions come out from time to time, and reveal his hand. God meets us personally with his brooding care, as SERMONS. 267 vigilantlj' and thoughtfully as, according to the text, he did the Hebrew nation. The New Testament lifts the individual into prominence, and makes him the mark of a specific oversight and training. He is not lost in the nation, or in the myriads belonging to the nations, or in the endless worlds and details of the uni- verse. Over each trusting soul, as it makes the jour- ney of life, is the glon T of the same unseen One that brooded over the exodus and the march through the wilderness — the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, if only we had the eye to see it — shield- ing, training, blessing, chastening. If all the deliver- ances he works out for us were visible, if we could see all the instances of peril, when the great enem} r , with expectant looks, fiendish exultation and malignant leer, is waiting to have us fall into his hands, while God kindly interposes, diverting our thoughts and changing our course, we should have a wondrous picture of the now unrecognized tender ministries of our God. Life is full to the brim of this unrecognized presence and help. How many dangers have been in our way, and we have stood on their brink, likely to go over were it not for an unseen, averting hand ; but that hand was there and we escaped ! How many fatal diseases have been on their way to us, and something, a mystery to us, waved them aside, and we still live ! How many temptations have singled us out, at one time or another, and come straight for us like hungry lions ; and yet through some unaccountable influence they have been diverted to one side, or we have been drawn away just in time to escape the deadly spring ! How many mistakes and even sins of our own, which seemed about to ruin us, we have risen up out of un- expectedly, as if a sorrowing Friend, without our 268 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. knowledge, had come in to arrest or soothe the conse- quences ! We say there is a recovering power in the realm of nature back of the ordinary forces at work,. so that if a derangement of her order takes place, this un- seen agency steps in, covers the wound, and produces a new order of health and symmetry over it. So in the kingdom of grace there is a kindly healing or help- ing power back of our lives, that comes to us to cover the wounds we inflict on ourselves, to bring about with our co-operation a new condition of moral health and vigor, and recover us from our sins. How many are strangely raised up after falling ! but they do not rec- ognize the Unseen One, as he stoops over them to free them from the snares their own guiltiness has sprung upon them. All dangers are not warded off ; all temptations are not disarmed ; every foe is not thwarted ; every grip of evil consequences is not relaxed. We might become presumptuous in that case. The kind Rescuer is care- ful to let us have smart enough as a motive for vigi- lance, and to bestow his invisible friendship only in a way calculated to make us do our best. ' ' Underneath are the everlasting arms ' ' ; but he does not show them, and we cannot see just how the}- will lead us, or hold us up when otherwise we would stumble, or pull us out of our sins when down ; and so we walk carefulty as if unattended. If the Serpent, by our foolish intimacy with his resorts, is allowed to inflict a pang now and then, it only reminds us of our constant danger, and puts us the more on our guard . Ours is a befriended, not a cosseted life ; a watched and inspired, not a watched and weakened manhood. Our unseen Helper has his thought on our worth in the skies, not on our ease here, and adjusts his atten- tions accordingly. SERMONS. 269 Moreover, the amount of God's help, hidden or oth- erwise, that we receive, is not a little dependent on our drawing near and looking to him for it. A truly loving and prayerful waiting on Him for mercies leads Him to give largely in all the ways of his giving, seen and unseen, open and hidden. The more we draw near to Him, the more He draws near to us, and scat- ters around us the overflowings and the hidings of his mercy. There is a mysterious power in the human soul, promised and given on condition of faith and prayer, to draw around it unknown blessings. In this way God, so to speak, goes on before us secretly, and charges our future with good before we come up to it. Calamities are thus averted, and we never see them ; evils are avoided, and we never suspect them ; bless- ings come strangefy into our possession that we had not thought of, rising like apparitions in unsuspected places. We discover, if we are thoughtful and prayer- ful, that in whatever way of duty we go, God has been there before us with numberless concealments of good, awaiting our coming. We find him, in nature, bury- ing supplies, as of coal and oil and artesian water, in secret caches, against our arrival, and surprising us with the lurkings of his fore -thoughtful love on every side ; in providence, scattering attentions and with- holding himself from observation, sending men to help us, and not letting them or us know that it was He who sent them ; covering in a storm-cloud, with thun- derings and lightnings, some of the most tender and delicate gifts ; in grace, attending us as a loving pres- ence, which, if we had faith enough, would enable us to hear him say, amidst our fears : "It is I, be not afraid! " in our weakness : " Lo, I am with you al- ways, even unto the end of the world," and in our 270 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. need: "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." When we discover these things, may we not well say, as did Isaiah, reciting the strange and unexpected methods of God's mercy, " Verily, thou art a God that hidest thyself, O God of Israel, the Savior ! ' ' What, now, should be the practical outcome of this wondrous truth ? Is our discovery of it to be a barren one ? Has it no practical meaning and use ? It should open deep fountains of gratitude. There are blessings enough that are open and apparent to ex- cite our warm appreciation, but when we perceive that these are only a small part of his ways of help and mercy ; that we see the rim only ; that his thoughtful- ness lies about us, like the air which we cannot see, — how our thoughts should go out to him in thankful- ness that we are in his hands ! In whatever way we look and as far as we look we find his kindly thought has been there before us, and we know that farther than we look or can look, there is still the same kind- ly thought, the same planning and doing and conceal- ing himself. This should touch our heart and awaken our lofty praise. This discovery should inspire confidence. We have troubles, perplexities, cares. We cannot see the way through. God does not reveal himself or show us the light. He hides himself. But we know it is his habit to scatter good in unknown ways all along our path. Hitherto He has healed us up to our faith and beyond it, and often when we knew not that he was doing it. Can we doubt now ? May we not know in advance that He who is the same yesterday, today and forever, is about us in these hidings, preparing some surprise of blessing ? How confidently, then, at all times, if we have yielded our hearts to Him, may we look into SERMONS. 271 the future, since we know that God is there. Not to the extent of what we can see. No ! no ! But far more, working for us and getting mercies in readiness. We are marching up the God-lined avenue to the heavenly mansion. Whose heart should not beat with confidence and assurance ? How can one distrust when he finds himself in the hands of Him who is good be- yond all his revealed goodness, who plans for us be- 3 r ond all his known plannings, and who helps us be- yond all his confessed workings, — far, far be3 T ond, away off in the receding vista ? This discover}^ should also lead to a corresponding kind of love and devotion. As God gives far beyond what is seen — throws the gift and hides himself — so we should give to his service not only this and that deed seen by men, but also invisible deeds, concealed activities of good will, the hidings of sympathy and desire for the advancement of his cause, the secret things of our souls. We cannot give and hide from God, but we can give and hide from man, and almost from ourselves. We should catch and reproduce ^o much of the spontaneous and multitudinous love of God, falling as the mist, that the left shall not know what the right hand does. Our devotion should go up like clouds of incense, the fragrance of which reaches far be} T ond the bounds of its visible progress. We should be so drawn toward Him by seeing what He is to us, that the spiritual substance of our worship shall be seen by God, mounting up to Him in wav} r , hidden columns, far beyond the blazing altar fires that men look upon. I have known a new mother to come into a family where there were children of various ages from three to twenty years, some of whom were reluctant to have 272 ISRAEL EDSON DWINEEE. her come and to call her ' ' mother, ' ' but her tenderness and devotion were so hearty and sincere and thought- ful, springing from her warm and loving nature, and leaning to so many surprises and delicate revelations of her love to them, that before two years had passed she had captured all their hearts. The3 T could not help it. They would have been untrue and unkind to themselves, not to respond to such goodness and wis- dom. Shall we have had God's love, hearty, constant, full of surprises and delicate attentions, all these years — twenty, is it? or thirty? forty? sixty? and not been won yet ? Is there no yielding, no response, no softening of heart ? O Lord, dry not up this won- drous fountain of thy mercy 1 Take not away tlty patience and forbearance ! Try us a little longer ! Cut not down yet the barren fig tree. Let it alone this year also ; dig about it, dress it still, and let the invis- ible dews of thy love, the light of the sun seen and of the sun clouded fall on it ; and if it bear fruit, well. Thy wondrous love, O Lord, is a great deep, a great height ! When we can count all the sands on the sea- shore ; when we can tell all the stars in the sky ; when we can enumerate all the particles in the air ; then may we form some estimate of the outflowings of thy love ! But, O God, we can praise thee, we can love thee. The insect's eye can be opened towards the broad heavens. Help us to love toward thee ! V. *GOD'S SAYING SHOULD BE OUR DOING. "Now, theft, whatsoever God hath said unto thee, do." — Gen. ji : 16. This is safe advice. There is no risk in my repeat- ing it, or in your following it. It is a safe rule to adopt everywhere. " Whatsoever God hath said unto thee, do." The only difficulty about it, practically, is in knowing that God speaks to us, and in having the delicacy and tact to discriminate what he says, and not mistake it for other things, or other things for that, and then doing it. You have the outlines of my thought for this morn- ing. The first thing is, Does God speak to us? Yes, in many ways. It would relieve us of much embarrassment if He had some peculiar sign about his way of doing it which could not be mistaken, — if, e.g., He spoke with one kind of audible voice, and men with another. But this would be a mechanical system of training, and God's system is spiritual, appealing to faith, trust, and love. Yet in a spiritual way God speaks to human hearts and consciences, as really and authoritatively as he did to Abraham or Moses, — not now in ear-language, but heart-language. * Preached iti Saerameuto April 17, 1881. 274 ISRAEL KDSON DWINKLL. There are messages to us in his written Word. All the principles of duty to God, man, and self laid down there are his messages to us, as distinctly and definitely as to those to whom they first came. This covers the whole method of salvation through Jesus Christ, and the essence of practical religion. The Bible is God's line of telegraphing to us ; and through it he tele- graphs to you what you need as a soul, — not the actions you need to do, but the spirit, the motives, the affections, the aims, the principles, you need to have as a man, — not what you need as the inhabitant of this place, or that, or belonging to this race or that race, but as a man, — not as living in the first century or the twentieth, but as a man, — not as a wise man or a weak one, but simply as a man, — not as old or young, but as a man. Do not forget that in the Bible he is simply telegraphing to you as a man ; and it matters not on such a point whether the telegraphic line be long or short, whether it reach from Christ to those about Him on the earth, as during the Sermon on the Mount, or all the way from the first century down to the nine- teenth or the one hundredth ; the message has the same pertinency and directness to man as a man. When man ceases to be a man on earth, and has grown into something beyond, and has none of the needs ofaman, this telegraph will be wound up, or cease to deliver messages ; but till then, to all to whom it comes it will say, direct from Christ's heart, " Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." There are also messages through conscience. The right, the pure, the good, which conscience sees and urges us to seek — I mean the truly right, pure, good, that which is seen to be such by an enlightened con- SERMONS. 275 science, not that which is imagined to be such by a blinded conscience. This is God's will and thought to us in reference to the practical matters of ever}' day. God fills out through the spaces and blanks left in the written Word. God speaks through such a conscience just as truly, though not in the same mechanical way, as a musician acting on the key-board communicates his thought through the instrument, and it comes forth in the notes of music much more fully than it appears on the written score. God has put the conscience in the soul, that he may thus speak through it and round out his meaning. We may have allowed the instru- ment to get out of tune somewhat, and often are not particular to distinguish between what proceeds from it and other sounds. Yet there are true divine notes issuing from it, in reference to the filling out beyond what is in the Bible, the outline of practical duties. Then there are at times direct suggestions from the Spirit of God. The veil between the Good Spirit and our spirit is not so thick and heavy but that there are movings and intimations of his pleasure through it, as you have seen the form of a person as he passed along on the other side of a curtain and brushed it. You may call them movings of the Good Spirit, suggestions, intimations, inspirations, — no matter ; you have felt them. They seem dropped down from above. They come with the tinge and tone of a supernatural origin, now as reproofs, now calls to courage and hopefulness and trust, now as illuminations, and now as stimulus to duty. Ah ! do not attempt to erase or conceal their divine origin, or the divine superscription on them. God is nearer to us at such times than we may sup- pose, and we do wrong to misuse his presence. Again, God speaks to us through the words and lives 276 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. •of his people, the ongoings of his providence and nature. There are out-gleamings around particular words and examples and occurrences and sights at times, as if a divine light were put under them — and there is, — and they shine down to the waiting and appreciative heart as illuminated messages from above. Look back over life to certain experiences that have not faded out. Do you not remember the meaning there was once in that good man's words, that saint's life, or that pleading look, or that warm grasp ? Have you forgotten how the interests of eternity rayed out from that death, and said to you : " Prepare to meet thy God? " or how once a meaning at other times kept back shot out from the stars, or flowers, or mountains, or gorges, or falls, or ocean, and you found yourself in the Divine presence ? Nature and providence and humanity have their illuminations, and they are never so bright and holy as when God shines out through them on the waiting soul ; for God is not so veiled behind his works but that He at times lifts the veil to look in our face. Thus the Good Spirit is all about us, passing in or ready to pass in heavenly messages. We are not so orphaned and bereft of the Divine Fatherhood, that he has withdrawn all his fresh communications from us. Nay, nay; he scatters them as seeds of life with a boun- tiful hand, and though we may not welcome them, and though, as in the natural world, millions of these divinely-shed seeds may perish to one that grows, yet they are all fresh products of his interest and goodness, and adapted to put his thought in our thought, and draw our will to his will. The next thing is : "How can we know the mes- sages that come from God ? " Maii} T of them come, as SERMONS. 277 we have seen, along human or earthly instruments, side by side, often of earthly voices. How shall we discriminate them ? We need some test, some means of identification. We have it. It is, first of all, the Bible. That is the touch-stone. Whatever is contrary to the spirit and genius of that, whatever conflicts with the methods and principles of spiritual life therein outlined, however plausible or beautiful or alluring it may be, you ma}^ know is a voice from below. Men have followed voices many times, calling them the voices of God, that have led away from Revelation out into fanaticism, or intolerance, or corruption, or vice, or crime ; and followed them down to the death that never dies. But I have never known or heard of a man who followed an impulse that strongly beset and moved him as from God, that harmonized with the spirit of the Bible, who was not led nearer to God by it, giving evidence in the result that the voice was a voice of God. We have also a secondary test, which may be used under the Bible, but not alone. It is conformity to the pure, the good, the noble, the godI}\ Whatever impulse draws us towards this, if it be the truly pure, good, noble, godly, and thus indirectly harmonious with Scripture, we may know is an impulse from God. It may come along to us across an earthly instrument, but the message communicates God's thought, ex- presses his will, and agrees with his previous written instructions, and we cannot resolve it into the mean- ingless clicking of the machine employed in sending it. When you go into a telegraph office and hear the clicking, you may recognize no intelligence back of the strange sounds, — you may at first only perceive electricity and machinery and lines of wire, — but when. 278 ISRAEL E'DSON DWINKLL. all at once a definite message, click by click, is copied and handed out to you, giving the thought and will of a friend on the other side of the continent, and har- monizing and dovetailing with the facts given in a fuller letter previously received, } t ou see something more than the instrument, you see the intelligence that has flashed its thought to you ; your friend is commu- nicating with you, and you do not resolve the result into electricity, but have a message from your friend. So when a divine thought comes into your mind, a divine impulse, along a falling star, a rainbow, a fu- neral procession, a remark, a sermon, a recollection, agreeing with Revelation, fitting its facts, and enforc- ing its duties, you may know it comes from the divine friend. Do not resolve it into a product of the instru- ment. You see, then, my friends, that in consequence of the multitude of these inflowing messages and the pos- sibility and ease of identifying them, the advice we have before us furnishes a most fertile practical rule. * ' Whatsoever God hath said unto thee, do. " It is the counsel for every day and hour, wherever there is a right and a wrong, a good to be done or left undone ; for there, however our human sense or weakness may name it, God speaks. We should be very tender and observant towards those thronging but gentle intimations. If we are rude towards them, coarse, unappreciative, earthly, we may not only fail to catch the divine ring, the divine intel- ligence on the other side of them, and so lose the em- phasis of the communication, but we finally lose the connection and the communications themselves. On the other hand, if we cherish and obey these voices, this will become more distinct and marked, and we SERMONS. 279 shall have more of them. To keep in communion with them, therefore, ' ' Whatsoever God hath said un- to thee, do." Obey conscience in little things, be- cause you hear God behind, saying " Do it." Follow the impulse to true benevolence daily, because you hear God behind, saying ' ' Do it. ' ' Cherish every rev- erent thought, every aspiration to a pure and noble manhood, every drawing towards faith, charity, piety, because God is under them and speaking through them, — and soon you will feel that your whole moral and spiritual life is brought into direct relations to God, and his authority and influence everywhere reach you. Further, the habit of doing what you are divinely prompted to do will very quickly lead you to God. It is not by great occasions and great strides that you can best vindicate a disposition to approach him, but by doing just the things before you, great or small, to which he calls. Obedience is shown in obeying, not in waiting for great opportunities. If you should tell a child to pick up a pin, and he should refuse to do it, and say he should wait till he was told to do a man's work or do some great thing, his spirit would be no more inconsistent than that of those who refuse to obey God in the little things of current duty enforced by these small voices of God, and wait for grand chances. To be true to Him, therefore, " Whatsoever God hath said unto thee, -do. ' ' Everything which comes to you with that peculiar emphasis — ' ' He hath said unto thee" — do it. The habit leads upward. Moreover, this disposition is itself pleasing to God. It secures his favor and sympathy at once. He likes and rewards the teachableness, the faithfulness, the devotion. He says, " That is my child ; he has respect unto my commandments ; I will watch over Jiim as the apple of mine eye. ' ' 280 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. Of course, also, there is an unspeakable satisfaction in such a habit of obedience. When }^ou have sifted out the other messages and impulses by means of the safe tests, and have the clearly divine will left, and then act on these messages, you know you have some- thing solid under you ; 3^ou know you are on the right side, that you have the approval of God, and that your labors will be at once most beautiful and most benefi- cent. To have no internal misgivings and to be as- sured of the best and most glorious outward results, therefore, ' 'Whatsoever God hath said unto thee, do. ' ' Once more, if you should start today honestly doing this — honestly finding out what God says, and then honestly doing it, — it will mark a crisis in your spirit- ual history, if that crisis has not already been passed. The moment you begin to do what God says because He says it and for his sake, not because it is the teach- ing of conscience or nature or events, the great revolu- tion within has begun, and you start for the skies and above them. If you start on the purpose and principle to do all that God tells }^ou, it makes no difference whether the first step is giving a cup of cold water, or following Christ as James and Peter and John did upon the Mount, it leads along the same line of obedience to the same result ; and that true starting is the mount of transfiguration to your soul. The act may be small, but the motion, the principle, is grand, and eternal things turn on it. You need no imposing event, no wonderful providence, no peculiar and rare combina- tion of circumstances, no rush and roar of powers, divine or otherwise, to furnish an occasion that shall write your name among the sons of God. Adopt this rule, and it is done ; for by that act you step out of the old dominion of self-pleasing and self-seeking into SEKMONS. 28l one in which God is the center and end ; you cross the border-line and enter the kingdom of the sons of God. My friends, this principle has brought us where you see it has a most delightful and blessed issue. It issues in friendship with God, — eternal life, and heaven. The principle is itself broad, — obedience to God in all things. " Whatsoever God hath said unto thee, do. " I would not abate the importance or urgency of the rule any- where, but would remind you of the special and tran- scendent importance of observing it in relation to every intimation of direct duty to God. If you slacken any- where, slacken not here. Whatsoever calls and prompt- ings you receive towards prayer, the Sanctuary, the Sabbath, the Church, the Son of God, — whatever draw- ings towards faith, submission, love, — whatever con- victions of duty are breathed into your spirit from time to time, in reference to the hereafter ; whatsoever God says to you in his Word or by his Spirit directly per- taining to salvation, — oh ! give the most anxious heed to all this, for it is of supreme moment to you. Ob- serve all intimations of God's will, but fail not of those which He Himself is careful to emphasize as He does no others, which point you to the Savior. Remember this is the end to which all God's voices are designed and adapted sooner or later to lead. They all call you towards the Savior ; and if y 011 follow even the lowest and remotest, one voice will lead you up to another and give place to it, till combined they conduct you to Him. Therefore, when God calls you to Him, at once take the cross-cut, and do not go round by star, and w T aterfall, and flower, and conscience, and humanity ; come at once to Christ, and have the sense of pardon and acceptance immediately, instead of groping on in the lower reaches of obedience. By listening to the 19 282 ISRAEL EDSON DWINKLL. religious calls you may strike at once for the heights of salvation, where you can sing the song of the re- deemed : " I know that my Redeemer liveth. " Cherish, then, above all else the intimations of religious duty, the leadings to the place of prayer, the promptings to reverence and honor God, and to bow the soul to the reigning and saving grace of Jesus. VI. * " LEAD ME TO THE ROCK.' 41 Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I." — Psalm 61 : 2. Introduction. — In the ancient civilizations, in time of danger, men fled to high rocks or cliffs, or walled towns. They shunned the open country and plains. Hence it was a great thing with a people if the} 7 could build their city on a high hill, and have a citadel on the highest point of that, where the} 7 could be com- paratively safe when pressed by their enemies. The imagery of the text grows out of this custom. Let us apply the truth suggested by it, and lying back of it, to our own times, and to human needs now. I. The first thing suggested is that man naturally has a sense of weakness and danger. (a.) Amid the physical forces of nature — the storms, floods, cyclones, earthquakes — he is as nothing. (b.) The mighty powers of Providence, generally restrained, but sometimes let loose — pestilence, famine, sickness, accidents — often hedge us in, and we find ourselves met with a mightier will than our own, be- fore which we are nothing. (c.) We are as nothing before the wild passions and contentions of men. * Outline of a sermon preached extemporaneously in Plymouth Avenue Church, Oakland, March 16, 1890, and repeated at Pilgrim Church, Oakland, and at Vacaville." 284 ISRAEL EDSON DWINEEL. (d.) There is at times a sense of fearful danger from the fact that we are sinners. We have incurred pen- alties that are already pursuing us, and feel that more fearful retributions will overtake us by and by. From such experiences of weakness and peril we want a retreat, and cry out : "Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I. " II. The second point is, that nothing inferior or on a level with us can be the refuge we need. An equal would be swayed and driven hither and yon, as well as ourselves, by these mighty forces to which we are exposed, (a.) We cannot entrust, therefore, our im- mortal souls to any man or combination of men. (b.) Nor can we trust them to law or nature ; for they are beneath us, blind, unconscious, and of themselves move on with steady and irreversible tread over friend and foe. They can make no adaptations. They cannot come to our needs, (c.) Nor can we entrust ourselves to our doings or moralities. They cannot overcome our sense of guilt, nor satisfy our longings for assurance of safety. We cry, therefore, " Lead us to the Rock that is higher than I." III. When we have this experience, nothing short of God can be the refuge we seek. We are so consti- tuted, being made in the image of God, that when we come to a sense of our real need we cannot stop short of him. No angel can satisfy us, no archangel, no " principality or power " above. We must have God — one who has made us, to whom we are responsible — our Father. Our cry is, ' ' Lead me to the Rock that is higher than /. ' ' IV. The Rock is accessible through the incarnation of the Son of God. In this way its base rests on the earth. God in this manner is accessible to everv hu- SERMONS. 285 man being. There we may mount up to Him and have the protection of his omnipotence, his grace, his friend- ship. He who finds Christ, finds the Father. V. But, oh ! the weakness of human nature, even when it has high desires. We cannot go to the ' ' Rock that is higher than I " alone. We need help and cry out, ' ' Lead me, oh lead me ! ' ' This is the very office of the Spirit. How wonderful ! Christ, the Rock, is not indifferent. He yearns as much as we to have us sheltered and protected on the Rock, and sends down the Divine Spirit to draw us to it, and to create in us the desire to he led. Conclusion. Behold the Rock, and flee to it ! VII. * CHURCH FELLOWSHIP — WHAT DOES IT MEAN AMONG CONGREGATION ALISTS ? It means all it means in the way of fellowship be- tween churches in other denominations ; and it means a great deal more than in any other denomination ex- cept such as have the same polity. I. Let us, then, briefly glance at it in this general aspect, simply as fellowship between sister churches, before we consider its distinctive use in our polity. (a) Fellowship is certainly a blessed principle in itself. Churches which cherish fellowship toward one another, which have the interpla}- of confidence, love and devotion which this implies, no matter what the principles of organization which bind them together, are in a happ}- state. Jealousies and rivalries are ex- tinguished. The}- take pleasure in one another's pros- perity. The}' constitute a loving sisterhood. (b) Such a condition, moreover, illustrates the spirit of the kingdom of Christ. There may be, indeed, *This paper has been prepared as a family paper, with the confidences and the frankness intended only for the famiry ear. Lest persons of other families should be overmuch troubled by anything said, the writer wishes to say that he confesses that the}- all have special things which they con- gratulate themselves for in their private family talks, which seem to them equally to their advantage ; and he commends them to a recollection of this for their comfort now. — I. E. D. This address was the last literary work of its author. It was prepared for the General Association of Southern California, at its meeting held in Santa Barbara. His failing strength prevented his attendance. The paper was read by another May 15. 1S90, three weeks previous to his death. 288 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. fellowship on a lower ground ; as, in persecution, in putting down heresy, in making proselytes, pushing a creed or a polity. But these are counterfeits. True church fellowship — the only kind I have in mind — is around Christ and breathes the spirit of the Gospel. Dead churches have it not, false churches have other ambitions, wayward churches are chasing mirages. Churches that see in one another the face of Christ, and join hearts, bring down heaven on earth. (c) Again, fellowship is a great power > as thus witnessed. Its presence is a divine touch thrilling the world. No one can witness the spectacle without be- ing moved by it. The moral power of a single Christly church is great ; that of a group of Christly churches many times greater ; and the moral power of such a group illustrating the celestial quality of fellowship through a denomination inconceivable greater still. Fellowshipping churches are in the eyes of men the march of a massed army ; unfellowshipping, the mere demonstration of individual scouts. Congregational churches share in all these general advantages of fellowship as much as any other denom- ination ; and naturally, more than the compact de- nominations, because thrown more upon them in their intercourse. The compact denominations are held together by other powers, and are thus kept in com- mon march and rhythm. Yet often the absorption of interest in those powers, and the friction resulting from them, arrest fellowship. Congregationalists, on the other hand, depend on fellowship for their denominational existence, and so cultivate it. II. Fellowship, therefore, plays a much more prom- inent part in Congregationalism than the general ad- SERMONS. 289 vantages of it which I have named. It is our organizing principle. But before speaking of it in this way, as the organ izing or structural principle binding our churches to- gether, I wish to call attention to the position it really holds in the individual church — a unique point, and generally overlooked. We speak of the self-government of the Congrega- tional Church. This term, if applied in a loose, pop- ular sense, is proper enough, but strictly it is inappli- cable. The principle of government is a very modified principle in our churches. It is not government at all. There is no absolute governing power lodged anywhere in them — in the pastor, the officers, the majority, the Church. We say " the majority rules,"' and it does, but it is not because it has a right to rule. In ruling, in the Congregational way, the Church does not gov- ern the minority, or even the members voting with it, or itself. But it expresses in chis way the mind of the great number, and all have agreed to accept that as settling the course to be pursued. It is really a system of fellowship, voiced by majorities, but to be voluntarily followed by all. Nobody is governed. All govern themselves, but in the methods and within the bounds of the expressed opinion of the majority. To particularize : The doctrine of the church is not imposed on the members ; it is a fellowship of doctrine. The officers are not clothed with authority, but repre- sent and s^rve a fellowship. Discipline is a helpful or corrective procedure, not a judicial process. Aggres- sive movements are the output of common counsels and devotion, not the result of ecclesiastical orders. This overlooked idea of fellowship in the individual church accounts for many things in Congregationalism 290 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. distinguishing it from the authoritative denominations ; as, the freedom and individuality of thought it encour- ages ; the impossibility of cramping Congregationalists in a narrow denominational spirit ; their readiness to give freely to outside Christian objects ; and the ease with which our ministers and laymen, not realizing the difference between a system of fellowship and one of authority till it is too late, go into other folds. Congregationalists, thus, are nowhere governed, either in the separate church or in the sisterhood. No- where ; never. The idea is absolutely foreign to them. They have never had a taste of that experience. They are familiar in the church with the restrictions of fel- lowship. They have proposed measures that did not carry. They have been with majorities and minorities in reference to policies, doctrines and men. But only Christ and his word and their own self-hood govern them. Theirs is a polity of fellowship even in the sin- gle church, not of government. But fellowship is our organizing denominational principle. We are now prepared to consider its position and influence, as such a principle, in uniting the churches and making a sisterhood of them. In our economy this is the mystic wand that, moved among them, groups them together and makes of them one body. It is our only denominational organizing prin- ciple. It is not constitutions that bind our churches together, or laws, or resolutions, or creeds, or traditions, or heredity, or any ecclesiastical power ; only the mys- tic bonds of fellowship, as soft as silk, as strong as iron, as invisible as light. When a church decides to be a Congregational church, it takes on itself, without wait- ing for hint or spur from anyone else, to illustrate the law of love towards other Congregational churches. It SERMONS. 291 accepts the principle of mutual helpfulness — puts itself on the methods and within the limits of that principle. It says, " I will be a sister with sisters, and fulfill all the sisterly offices. I recognize no superior — to hold me up to this — but the unseen Taskmaster. I do it voluntarily. It shall come about by my own virtue and sense of honor." When a church comes with this spirit, and knocks, and the sisterhood lets her in, recognizing her sisterly qualities, it is a regular Congregational church, and as long as it retains this spirit it remains so. If at any future time it should abandon the law of love and help- fulness, and seek only its own things, it would break the invisible bond binding it to the others, and it would cease to be a Congregational church in reality, what- ever it might be in name. It is no longer of us. ''They went out from us, but they were not of us." By that act it shows that it is destitute of our distin- guishing quality-; and that is the end of it, in the sis- terhood. That is the way Congregational churches begin, and that is the way they continue. It is putting themselves down to love and helpfulness toward one another. It is a system in wmich it is left to the voluntary disposi- tion of each church to discharge its duties to the others. It is a system of spontaneity, autonomy, self-devotion, unenforced loyalty. You see, then, that Congregationalism assumes as conditions of its highest success an attainment in vir- tue and intelligence far out toward the Celestial City. It calls for Christians to reveal its highest worth, ma- ture in years and wisdom, planning, of their own ac- cord, for the general good, without being lashed on by any outside party. It is not a polit} r that shows its 292 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. best with those who must be handled because they can but poorly handle themselves, but with those who are quick to see duties and opportunities, as well as bless- ings and advantages. It is a polity, therefore, that sharpens its eyes with schools, colleges and seminaries, and seeks to draw around itself the best means of grace and wisdom. It is a system that buttresses itself with the celestial things, that it may show the celestial things in its own grain and stuff in public relations. While, however, Congregationalism is a polity which seems to throw itself with such abandon on the spon- taneity and good will of the churches for denomina- tional integrity and vigor, it is a system of great recip- rocal expectations. The churches look to one another that each should be found in the serried ranks. This expectation carries with it great moral power, because it is founded on conscience, on the equities of the case, on the public sense of what fellowship requires. Few churches care to resist it ; they have already set them- selves down to it in their first vows. There is more power in it, for churches up to the Congregational strain, than mandates or rescripts for those under ec- clesiastical or hierarchical drill ; for it is a power addressed to self-respect and love for Christ. If, however, this proves unavailing, the faithful churches have no coercive power. They can advise, and remonstrate, and, these failing, weep and wring their hands, and at last bow out the undutiful sister by withdrawing fellowship. But they have no anathemas to hurl, no penances to impose, no limbo of suspension into wmich to consign her, no ecclesiastical court in which to placard her delinquencies. They can throw around her only the warm and tender persuasions of love and goodness — motives that sway the kingdom of SKRMONS. 293 God — and then leave her. If they part with her, they part with her high up on the border land of the celes- tial kingdom, not down in the region of church wrang- ling and human passion. This system of expectation is not only good for se- curing co-operation and unity, but for moral and spirit- ual training as well. An atmosphere of social expec- tation of vice or crime is powerful to drag down ; of an} T worldly movement, to draw into it ; of high pur- pose and noble endeavor, to inspire in that way. Ex- pectation throws innumerable warm arms about a church which softly draw it after them ; for it is ex- pectation of high things, of illustrating the law of love and being true and helpful in all social relations ; and this expectation, in which a Congregational church is focused in the midst of sister churches, is one of the finest educating influences. It appeals to all that is noble and generous and Christly. It has on its side, at the start, the conscience, the reason, the faith, and the foregone commitment, in general, of those who are the center of such observant and tender interest. How can a church so surrounded and stimulated — affection- ate and sisterly eyes looking on and expecting noble things — fail to do its best ? It is put on its honor. The stimulus comes through its sympathies, its friendships, its loves, from those whom it esteems and cannot grieve. No such educational power passes over the line of churches joined together ecclesiastically as some great physical organism, and comes to the individual church. What comes to it, in such cases, is a decree, a deliver- ance, a rule ; and it comes with authority. It is some- thing about which it has no option, and it is unprofit- able to have an opinion. It must be obeyed. That is 294 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. the beginning and end of the matter. Such things are likely to come with a thud, not as a hand-shake ; and there is little value in them as a training agency in the higher attainments of church life, only in securing instant unity of denominational movement and mass- ing material force. In systems which depend so much on organization, and in which the thought is so much absorbed on that and the parties working it, there is little room for the play of the quickening divine forces of reciprocal love. Pulses of human authority beat along the articulated line, not the spiritual forces of the Gospel. And the churches under the sway of such influences alone grow up into the measure of the stat- ure of the fullness of the denomination, rather than of Christ. Other influences may counteract this natural drift, but this is the tendency of the polity. Fellowship, then, which is the organizing principle of the Congregational sisterhood, is a high principle, well out towards Christ, and making large demands on piet}^ and wisdom ; but which, while gentle and amiable, is potent, greatly helpful and educational, and quickly lifting up those on a lower plane, who adopt it and have fair opportunities, to the Congregational strain. We are now prepared to take this principle and trace some of its workings in binding the churches together. Before considering its more positive and demonstra- tive forms — its definite precedents and traveled high- ways — let us consider its brooding spirit. We want to see what this principle with which we are dealing is, in itself, in its ideal quality. We want to see it lapping the churches around with its mystic power, drawing them together and making them one, in ways too sub- tle to be catalogued, too effective to be denied. It is SKRMONS. 295. like an atmosphere charged with an extra amount ot oxygen or electricity, which you do not see, but whose silent effects are felt by every living thing. The invisible element, the uncatalogued element, in the domestic love of a happy home, is the atmosphere of it, the thousand nameless things, the gentle atten- tions, the thoughtful anticipations, the unwearied de- votion, the radiated rather than expressed love ; and this counts up in the happiness of the home far more than the catalogued element, the good-night kisses, the good-morning salutations, and the regular discharge of domestic duty. So when fellowship throws its mystic influence over the ch arches, it tempers and adjusts their feelings and conduct towards one another, shaping all and toning all ; and this is the elixir of their relationship. Other things are the utilities ; this radiated love, this kindly glance, this cordial hand-shake, this warm heart-beat, known to be throbbing in sympathy, though the mouth b^ dumb — this is bliss. It works with the gentleness of light, the certainty of gravitation, the subtilty of electric forces ; but it works always helpfully, stimulat- ingly, to fulfill the law of Christ. For the denomination that puts itself on this prin- ciple does not suspend its existence on a sentiment or an impulse having a human origin, but on a sentiment and an impulse originating in Christ. Christ is the living, active source of true fellowship ; and the churches, receiving it from him, extend it to one an- other. The earth and the planets keep in their orbits under the unseen attraction of the sun, each true to the system, under that mighty central spell. So the churches keep in their sisterly places and discharge their duties under the influence of this principle com- ing from Christ. 296 ISRAEL KDSON DWINELL. But to depict or suggest all the play of its kindly operations and beneficent offices would be to show all the ways in which the light of the sun touches and helps living things in the animal world and the land- scape about us. If, however, I were to take you to a place where you could catch a breath of the quality of fellowship in Congregational churches, in distinction from that in authoritative systems, I would select the regular meet- ings of their delegates in the state and local associations or conferences, or the National Council. In an y of these meetings the subtle aroma of fellowship fills the air like the perfume from a bed of violets, or from an orange grove in blossom. It is this that makes our meetings on such occasions so delightful. There are no rivalries, no animosities, no prizes for personal am- bition, no struggles for leadership, no wrangling about legislative measures, judicial decisions, questions of discipline. All these issues are ruled out ; and the ques- tions are questions of excitation, advice, fellowship. Any one who steps out of our meetings into one in which the hot issues of authority are waged sees at once the painful contrast. He has gone from the com- munion of brothers to the contests and heat of parti- sans. If there is just as much fraternal feeling in the members when they come together, their business does not permit a display of it, does not cultivate it, is not calculated to lift them all up into spiritual unity around Christ, and to dismiss them in a glow of love. While, therefore, fellowship lies among the churches like sunshine in the lap of spring, reviving and quick- ening everything, regulating all their intercourse with the sweet grace of love where it has its proper sway, there are certain formal, historical methods of its appli- SERMONS. 297 cation which have become common law. They have reached this dignity from their great utility and fre- quent use. Usage, here as elsewhere, crystallizes into a kind of law. It is very different, however, from Pres- byterian, Episcopalian or Methodist denominational law. It is flexible, elastic, fluid, advisory, without absolute grip or rigidity. Yet, as I have said, it is at- tended with a mightv expectation, which is effective. It is simply the Congregational way of getting the proper things done voluntarily. Coming to these crystallized forms of church fellow- ship, we find ourselves on the beaten track of Congre- gationalism and amidst familiar sights. We can hurry our pace. We notice the following : I. COUNCILS. These are called substantially for two reasons : To give advice and help in reference to organizing a church, or settling or dismissing a pastor, or in refer- ence to the adjustment of some difficult}'. The under- lying idea in these cases is, that the question about which help is asked is one which really involves the welfare of the denomination. This is obvious in rela- tion to organizing a church or settling a pastor ; for they are to be constituent parts of Congregationalism in the region, and the other churches have a vital in- terest in the kind of men and churches coming into their ranks to take part with them in the current Con- gregational movement. Their good name is at stake, their comfort, their prosperity, the good of the cause. Especially is this true in reference to the settlement of a minister. From the time the church in Salem, in 1629, invited the church in Plymouth to be present by their representatives at the settlement of Mr. Skelton 298 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELE. as their pastor and Mr. Higginson as their teacher, down to the present, the Congregational churches by a a quick instinct have seen and felt the fitness of calling a council to advise them on matters of such vital com- mon concern. But while a council to settle a minister springs up as a due of fellowship, it is also, in the case of all worthy candidates, a privilege. It enables the new pastor to take his place in the untried field at once, with the grand moral backing of experts. Well-furnished, sym- metrical men, true men, do not shrink from such an introduction. Moreover, it is this practice, where reg- ularly continued, that has done more than any other device of Congregationalism to make our ministers at once sound in the faith and evangelical in spirit, com- paring favorably in these respects with those of any other denomination. It is a suspicious circumstance when a pastor elect declines to have the case submitted to a council. In the case of difficulty, of such magnitude that the church cannot, or will not settle it, a council may be called — the two parties uniting in the call, a Mutual Council ; one only issuing the call, and the other refus- ing, an Ex parte Council. Congregationalism is jealous of the rights of minori- ties and individuals ; and the Ex parte Council is the means it has adopted for guarding their rights. Here the appeal is made from an alleged neglectful or tyran- nizing majority to the sense of justice and fairness of the disinterested churches. In this way no church, however strong or influential, can tyrannize over a single weak brother, without the liability of having its sins thrown in its face from the reflecting conscience and judgment of sister churches. The practice of hav- SERMONS. 299 ing councils makes our churches contrast favorably with the Baptist churches, which rarely have them. Practically the council represses extreme individualism. Our Baptist friends have no fixed denominational ar- rangements for holding this in check — nothing but the diffused, unapplied Christian sentiment — nothing which they can bring to bear to heal quarrels and pre- vent the unnecessary multiplication of churches. The very certainty that such issues may be passed on by cool, disinterested advisers arrests local heat and pas- sion. Moreover, the principle of fellowship, hovering un- consciously in our atmosphere and exerting its ubiqui- tous influence, is ever on guard to prevent the undue rise of impracticable self-will, in a way that our neigh- bors of the same polity know nothing of. II. REPRESENTATIVE MEMBERS. These are local Associations or Conferences, General Associations or Conferences, and the National Council. The fundamental idea of these bodies is church fellow- ship, not the fellowship merely of the delegates ; the ob- ject is to promote the fellowship of the churches. They are the outcome of this fellowship. Their business is the expression of this fellowship. Their purpose is to promote it. Nothing further than this was possible ac- cording to the original historical conception. Of late, however, the churches of Michigan have made a radical departure. The General Association of that State is legally incorporated and has certain authoritative func- tions. It has a Board of Trustees, composed of one from each local association and six at large. These trustees act for the churches in aiding Sabbath Schools and churches, building houses of worship, relieving 300 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. needy ministers, collecting results of councils, and other things favoring the common interests of the churches. The principle is the principle of the cen- tralized denominations, let in at the thin end, and abandons the heritage of the freedom and autonon^ of the individual church, for which our fathers strug- gled for two centuries and a half. It will be interesting to watch this experiment, but painful to imitate it ; for our polity goes on the theo^ that no authoritative power over the churches can be exercised by the representative bodies. Yet in their normal action these meetings are a mighty power in unifying, cementing and advancing the denomination, doing their work by reports, discussions, resolutions ; by incitement, by arousement, b} T kindling fires on central altars till the flames spread and wrap all the churches in a common glow. So great, however, is this moral power that individ- uals who have never breathed the air of Michigan — there have always been such men, and I presume always will be — want to go a step further, and have them do something positive and final for the denomi- nation. ' ' It would be so easy here to do something that needs to be done for the churches. We have these representatives ; they are constructively all here. Why not, here and now, do this bit of work for them — make a creed, settle their relation to the rnissionarj- boards, do a nice job of legislation, and save the end- less bother of waiting on the churches ? ' ' This is incipient Presbyterianisrn. Congregational- ists need to be jealous of their birthright, — the auton- omy of the individual church, the fellowship of the churches, the bond of their union. When a national council or state body presumes *to act decisively and SERMONS. 301 finally for the churches, it is as much a stretch of Congregational principle as it is for the pastor to act in such a way for the single church. Nothing can be properly done 05^ a representative body, or a pastor, but what has been specifically delegated in form or by implication. The only seat of authority, even in the modified Congregational sense, is in the churches in their separate capacity. III. ASSISTING CHURCHES. This may be by gifts of members or money. This is a generous and considerate way of helping sister churches if they need it, and the Golden Rule suggests it. To act on a policy of withholding such aid, under the circumstances, is a breach of church fellowship. And observe, the aid in such cases is given in an out- handed way — outright — in no manner holding on to the gift and sharing in the continued management of it. This is our Congregational way — giving our best gifts, our valued members living near and naturally belonging to the other church, and our money, and forever vacating any claim to assist in administering the gift subsequently, committing that totally and absolutely to the aided church, within the limits of the object. Thus our churches exhibit a true fellowship, and yet respect the perfect self-hood and autonomy of one another, girding the aided church with strength and love at the same time. IV. AIDING CONGREGATIONAL INSTITUTIONS AND ENTERPRISES. We have many academies, colleges, seminaries, be- nevolent societies, founded and maintained solely for 302 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELI,. the service of Christ. They are Congregational in general character and movement. They are manned by our men. They are conducted b}^ our methods. They breathe our spirit. They are the output of our life. They mainly depend on us for support and efficiency. Now, when our churches give to them men or inone3 r , they join hands with one another. When your church takes up a collection for our seminar, or sends one of its sons to it, it enters into the mystic fraternity back of it, putting life into it. It joins the circle that touches hands in sustaining it. It stands side by side with the other churches doing the same thing — one of a goodly fellowship. And so of all our institutions and enterprises. It makes no difference about its being true and genuine church fellowship, that here, too, as in aiding a church, the gift carries with it no claim of right to control ; that it is made out of hand ; and that that is the end of the responsibility of the giver, and the beginning of the responsibility of the receiver. This, here, also, is our way. The fellowship does not lessen between our churches that stand together in warm clasp of hand under our institutions and enter- prises, because they do not loosen their hands and reach up and take hold of the management. Manage- ment is not neceesary to fellowship, — to the common heart-beats of love and sympathy. When children and grandchildren come pouring into grandfather's on Thanksgiving day, it does not lessen the blessed com- munion that they do not share in the responsibility of planning for the occasion and getting things ready. Here, then, in the blessedness of giving to our objects, is a method of most real and effective church fellow- ship. To realize it and have the full benefit of it, the SERMONS. 303 giving should be by churches — with church prayers, sympathies and presentations — with the church heart all aglow in the direction of the object. In this way our churches would be brought very close together in spiritual and substantial union. Such are the principles and some of the methods of church fellowship among us. If this spirit were per- fectly carried out, the relations of the Congregational churches to one another would be, indeed, heavenly. Why is it not ? The general answer, of course, must be the want of a heavenly spirit in the churches. The level of fellowship can rise no higher among them than the level of piety. But I wish to mention a few special reasons, that might be avoided, which keep this level lower than it ought to be. (a.) The first is the undue prominence attached to itself, in some cases, by the local church. It is a want of community feeling, and may originate with the pastor or the church. It is in the church self-absorp- tion, self-enlargement, indifference to outside interests. This spirit may be manifested in a large church with metropolitan ambitions, in a city ; or in a small church in the country struggling for life. Wherever it exists it is the same quality. It is indifference to others — all eyes looking to the home work, all hands drawing it to the central altar. While the qualit} T is the same in the large church as in the small one, the evil is slight and inconspicuous in the small one, for its opportunities of fraternity are few. But in the large one the oppor- tunities are many, and the influence of the absorbing passion for self-aggrandizement conspicuous and dam- aging. Here the one aim is to make itself colossal and strong, regarding this as the best way in which it can fulfill its mission. There is no attempt to carry up 304 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. Christ's kingdom jointly, by harmonious co-operation with others, and consulting the general good. It would build a monumental church ; but it chooses for its kind of monument a needle, an Eiffel, resting on its own lot ; not a pyramid, a Cheops, resting on the broad acres of the denomination. This spirit counteracts the Congregational principle, and arrests its progress and lovely fruits, even though it may now and then make a generous largess in money, which does not fulfill the grace urged by the apostle : ' ' The fellowship of the ministering to the saints. " (b . ) Inertia is another obstacle . There are churches and pastors, not a few, that are not devoid of generous sentiments towards the interests of our order, but they are latent. When it comes to opportunities to put them in practice, they are sentiments still, not deeds. These churches are not represented at meetings of As- sociation and Conference. They do not appear at councils when invited. Everything must be favorable and easy to enable their good feeling to find expression. They attend to their own affairs and let the interests of the denomination take care of themselves. Fellowship is not outraged as in the previous case ; it is neglected for want of purpose, energy, self-sacrifice ; for want of seeing the real divineness of its claims. God does not call his churches to cloister themselves, but to join the host that is going up to take the land. (c.) Isolation, also, often interferes with expressions of this grace. It may not paral} T ze it, but it impedes its flow. A church out in the mountains, fifty miles from any sister church, too far away to have inter- course with others in a formal manner, may } T et, by looking abroad, by reading the papers and by corres- pondence, keep itself informed on all that is going on, SERMONS. 305 and in lively sympathy with it. A man hidden in a dark cave where he himself is invisible, looking out, can see distinctly those in the light in front of the cave at a great distance. Persons on the frontier, looking to the centers of civilization, see much farther and more distinctly than those at the centers of civilization looking towards the frontier. And our lonely church in the mountains, fifty miles away, may keep its eye on our city churches, and know just how they are far- ing. On the other hand, a city church, by directing its special attention to the church in the mountains, keeping itself informed about it, touching it occasion- ally with the kindly touch of a helpful remembrance, may' keep up on the other side a true church fellow- ship, under difficulties. Still, isolation impedes its flow. Particularly with our sparse population and great areas here on the Pacific Coast, is this true. In some places the churches are not organized into active conferences or associations, or if organized the meetings are rarely attended by lay delegates ; and the expense of attending the General Association is so great that quite a num- ber of churches every year are unrepresented by either pastor or laymen. It is to be hoped that there is far more of the spirit of fellowship than our churches have an opportunity of expressing. If so, the question may well be raised, whether one good way of showing it would be for the stronger churches to prepare a fund to enable the representatives of all to be present at the fellowship meetings. This would express our Congregational principle, and would create it. It would add a crown- ing bliss and fervor to our meetings, which would greatly increase their value. It would bind our churches together by bonds, material and strong, yet altogether 306 ISRAEL KDSON D^INKLL. free, voluntary and unecclesiastical. It would help them to rise in their simple Congregational way to greater unity, enthusiasm and power, to bring this land to Christ. Such is the unity force of our churches. In its ideal it differs widely from the aggregating force of the Bap- tists, which is a denominational instinct emphasizing a rite, and the feeling of religious kindred. Congrega- tionalism is not an aggregation — a mass thrown togeth- er, like a crowd on the 4th of July or some other public occasion, each in no close relation to the others except being near and sharing the common sentiment. It dif- fers widely also from that of the centralized, authorita- tive churches. It is no mechanical human combina- tion, like a cistern or a piece of cabinet work, held together by glue and screws or iron hoops. It is rather a costal. Scientists tell us that a crystal has a kind of life, the atoms of each molecule having their own distinct organization and function in that molecule, and all the molecules being united in the greater living whole, the crystal, with its symmetrical angles, facets, and unique form. In Congregationalism there is, in a similar manner, the same high gospel principle uniting the churches as in producing the individual church — in the crystal as in the molecule. To realize the unique- ness and value of this, remember that Christianity in the world aims ever to be at once an individual and a social power. It begins by planting itself in persons, and then it goes on to unite these in communities. Now, in Congregationalism Christianity does both of these things. Fellowship is the principle it works with. This is the crystallizing principle in the unit and in the body. Hence Congregationalism differs widely from Independenc3 r , which ignores the social SERMONS. 307 uniting power of the gospel ; for it includes the com- plete integral idea of Christianity on earth, — individual- ism and sociality, — and secures them both by moral and spiritual means. And it is altogether unlike consolida- tion or solidarity, which slights individualism ; for it embraces both, but without license on the one hand or authority on the other. Its position is absolutely unique among the denominations, midway in the swing of the ecclesiastical pendulum, directly beneath the point of its suspension in the hand of God. Well, therefore, may we go forward with confident and joyous tread, feeling that our system in its idea largely reflects and anticipates the order of heaven, and struggle to make the reality more adequately realize the idea. THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. [From a Lecture to his Class.] > A very remarkable quality in the sermon is its adap- tation to the timeless wants of the soul, in furnishing an ideal to struggle towards that can never be overtaken. He holds up for us an aim which comes out in many places in the sermon, and especially in this : — " Be ye perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect." This, although an under-current all through the discourse, is an ever transcendent aim. Go as far as thought can carry us, it is still beyond. This quality of the sermon shows at once its tran- scendent origin and its perfect adaptation to human needs. The soul demands just such an ideal. No great- er innocent source of discomfort could come to us than to wake up in some aeon of the future, and find out that we had gained all there was for us ; that we had reached the end ; that no more progress was possible ; that every grace and virtue and attainment was mastered. No ennui like that can be imagined— a soul doomed to eternity, to have nothing to look forward to but what it already has. Christ has provided better things for us, and it is hinted at in the fundamental sermon of his kingdom, where he has outlined them for us. Over against the timeless character of the contents of the sermon is the remarkable appropriation of the language, and culture, and habits of thought of the common people. He does not speak from the stand- 3IO ISRAKL KDSON DWINKLL. point of the Pharisee, the Kssene, or any school of phil- osophy or religion, but of the common Jew, living in the country, and familiar with the facts of everyday life going on around him. He draws his illustrations from the fields and flowers and animals, and from incidents familiar to those hearing him. His words and idioms, in like manner, are those of the common people. So here is the most wide and far-reaching message — the ideal standard for all coming time, put in the hotnely costume of every-day life; a costume that is imperisha- ble, for the facts of nature and the incidents of daily life are the most unchangeable and cosmopolitan of any. Consequently, both the substance and the form of the sermon admirably adapt it for setting forth, not only to his immediate hearers but also to mankind at large down the ages, the fundamental character of the kingdom of God which he was proclaiming. The sermon also shows a certain unconscious lordli- ness that at once sets its Author, without his seeming to notice it, above all other teachers. There is no straining to maintain dignity, no appearance of the as- sumption of it. It rays out from Him as royally as the light and supremacy of the sun. " It has been said b}^ them of old time * * * but / say unto you. He speaks down to men unconsciously from an infinite height. The royalty of his words cannot be hidden. They betray the grandeur of his being. The sermon is human, but it is more. THE MINISTRY. Few boys will rise above the poise the mother gives them. If the mothers are content to have their sons worldly, selfish, self-indulgent, there are influences enough abroad to bring about this result. But if they desire them to do good in this world, and whatever position they occupy or success they gain have it all on the side of Christ, they must bathe their young hearts with the ceaseless ministries of prayer and Christian love and example. The ministry, for those who are moved and adapted to do high work, is the profession that lies nearest heaven, and calls for consecrated recruits with divinest voice. There is a shortening of time in preparation for the ministry that is wasteful in regard to preaching. Here, as in relation to giving, ' There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth ; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty. Every pastor is, by office, providentially on an out- look committee, to find young men for a profession to which they do not turn till the thought is borne in up- on them, and to which the natural ambitions and at- tractions of life do not point. He can drop the enkind- ling suggestion in their hearts, and then, in due time, take the young men by the hand and lead them along. 312 ISRAEL KDSON DWINELL. A preacher realty has no business to preach, unless his message comes to him fresh from God. We must remember that all truth, principle, moral and spiritual realit3 T is a living entity, and can no more be old than sunlight or God. The expressions of it, the historical forms it has taken on, may be old, but the thing itself is ever fresh. The modern preacher needs, as much as the primi- tive one, the sense that he is proclaiming the fresh thought and will of God. He must come down from the mount as Moses did, with his face shining from immediate communing with God. Tradition, the church, the schools, the Bible itself, can give only the old envelopes ; back of them and through them the preacher must penetrate to the living, spiritual con- tents, and when he has them he will have a message fresh from the eternal world, as apt and precious to men now as in the days of the Prophets or the Apos- tles, and in preaching which he may have as much heavenly enthusiasm as the} r had. God cherishes the individuality of his servants as one of his finest and most delicate works, and is careful to lay no burdens on them to crush this down to one mon- strous level. He is anxious that this should appear in their preaching as well as in the play of their features or the tones of their voice. He would have them true to themselves as well as to Him. THE SABBATH. As light streams out through the sides of a glass lan- tern in all directions on a dark night, so from a spirit- ually illuminated rest-day God sends out moral light in all directions through the community. When you see the flag of a well-kept Sabbath flying over a land, you know that it is a land which God is blessing in the whole strain of its civilization. It is a divinely brooded and guided land. The people, in consequence of God's blessing on their quickened moral life, are prosperous, strong and effective. They are eminent in their manhood, their achievements, their success, in the gains of this world and the world to come, in the catalogue of saints, heroes, benefactors. God touches and tones their energy with power and wisdom, and carries it forward to high results. Our civil system sprang up around the Sabbath as a sacred da}'. Historically this was its origin. The first settlers of Xew England brought it with them from the Puritans of the mother country. The whole civil life of the colonists revolved around the Sabbath as a sacred day. Some of their regulations were severe, some of their notions were extreme, some of their practices ridiculous ; but all this only shows the prominence which the sacredness of the dav held in their whole 314 ISRAEL BDSON DWINELL. civil economy. So all the criticisms of Cavaliers, the ridicule of the Broad Churchmen, the denunciation of the Free Thinkers, which we have heard and read on this subject, are in evidence now of the thorough com- mitment of New England to this idea. Other colonies adopted the same spirit in greater or less degree, and made their civil life fashion itself around a sacred day. Out of such a condition of society, with one day in seven distinctively set apart for the higher uses of heart and mind, and the service of God, and rest from secular work — with the Sabbath as the beating heart of the whole civil system, sending its vital currents through all the days of the week, all the tissues of society — came our civil sj^stem. It was born of a Sabbatic mother, wrapped in Sabbatic swaddling clothes, and rocked in a Sabbatic cradle. MISCELLANEOUS. Christianity dying out in New England? Not a bit of it ! It is pluming its wings. It is preparing for larger flights toward the sun — toward the rising sun, and the setting sun — and to carry with it, in its offer- ing to Christ, the brawn and the brain, the culture and the weakness, the civilization and the degradation of the land of the Puritans. Have no fears of New Eng- land, as long as she remains what she is. Would that she were a thousand times larger and more powerful, and that she overlapped the Continent ! What a call is here for a high standard of Christian living, for unflinching devotion to principle, for self- sacrifice in doing good ! All along this coast, from San Diego to the northern part of Puget Sound, the country is full of young life and quickened activity. It is an age of blazing the trees and cutting the trails for coming generations ; and it is an age when Christ summons his people to lead the way. All over the land the stirring call comes : — Arise, shine ! for thy light has come ! The missionary work is based on the great unities of Christianity. They are such as these : That the race is one ; that depravity is one ; that redemption is one ; that regeneration is one ; that the Christian life is one. We do not reach the true spirit of our local work till we come down to it from the heights of these 316 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. grand missionary unities. The kingdom of God, which knows no land, no race, no condition, as excluded from its provisions, must come into a man, to enable him to give a cup of cold water, or do any service even, unto the kingdom. The Light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world must be welcomed and reflected, to enable a man to walk a step in an old Christian community, according to the light. We should have faith that business methods may be converted to Christ, like everything else ; and that, when this change has taken place in the relation of employers and the employed, strikes will be impossi- ble, and good will and harmony will prevail. The influence of woman's work for woman, I have no doubt, is largely the cause of that gradual elevation of the plane of missionary activity and life which is now going on throughout all our churches. God bless woman's work for woman ! The present form of materialism is becoming old, and losing the glamour of its novelty. * * * The popular thought will once more rejoice in God, and men will have faith to see God back of the sequences of cause and effect, back of nature, back of history, — back of these and in them . In the spring-time there are concealed forces of na- ture working invisibly in plant, shrub, tree, the roots of grasses and buried seeds, plying their nimble and ceaseless energies to produce leaves and buds and flowers and fruit — all the greenness and bloom and joy of the vegetable world. In like manner the concealed MISCELLANEOUS . 3 1 7 forces of religion are, under the varied forms, parts and energies of our social life, working noiselessly, and working far and near, to produce the beauty and fra- grance and ripeness of the social condition. Moreover, where religion does not succeed as a prin- ciple of life in producing beautiful and fragrant things, it acts as a vis medicatrix, cicatrizing the wounds of our civilization, overcoming the fevers, tugging at the poisons and slowly expelling them, uniting the broken bones, building sanitary walls about the chronic sores, or giving twinges of neuralgic smart, to call attention to the lurking badness. The distempers and vices it does not prevent or arrest it puts a fringe of healthful influence about, a barrier of antagonistic life — or fights fire with fire, preventing a general destruction. So the scourges of intemperance, licentiousness, crime, and other social distempers, and even war — and civil war — are abridged or quarantined or mollified, and kept within some bounds. But, apart from the natural influence of the very spirit and genius of Christian^, leading it to seize and mould and use the elements and materials of civil- ization, it has positive, mighty engines of civil power, out in the light of the sum in our land, working directly upon civilization, with noise and clatter and busy in- vestment of the seats of influence and the hidings of social life. These are its organs and instruments. The eider-duck plucks from her breast the fine, soft, incomparable down, to line the nest for her young ; but the hunters rob the nest to enrich themselves, when she plucks her breast again ; and, when they do it a third time, the male bird repeats the operation. So religion continues to 3-ield the finest and choicest civil 318 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. • and social blessings to those who annoy and wrong her. Nay, more, she gives them many of the imple- ments and powers with which they assail her, helping them to their culture, standards of criticism, moral artillery, the whole enginery of truth — so far as they have truth — with which, not satisfied with chafing her defects, they fall upon her. She furnishes them in unconscious exuberance with the power and means of attack, when they try to worry the life out of her. According to ancient Greek story, the infant Her- cules was carried by Mercury to Olympus, and put to the breast of Juno without her knowing who the child was. He was so nourished by the divine food that he drew godlike strength from it, which he subsequently used to thwart the wishes of the goddess who had nursed him while she was asleep. And there is an- other who has said, " I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me." This appropriation of divine gifts — the beauties and excel- lencies of ripened intellect and cultured humanity, drawn from the bosom of religion, and which she, sleeping and waking, freely offers to all, only to use quickened powers and God-like vigor thus derived in attacks on the generous, unthinking foster-mother — is one of the strange facts of our strange world, and puts those guilty of it in an unenviable attitude before the discernment and conscience of mankind. It is the act and purpose of a parricide without the effect ; for Christianity is immortal and unconquerable, and goes on scattering her blessings, in sublime pity and sor- row for the ingratitude and weakness, among all who will receive them. MISCELLANEOUS. 319 The soul never feels old, but always young, as if pluming itself for an indefinite flight. It feels at three score and ten as if it had just opened its eyes in its Father's house, visited a few of its wondrous chambers, and seen some of their sumptuous furnishings ; but that the grand objects of its existence were fresh upon it, and that the morning dew was still lying upon life. Now, when you see the soul thus oblivious of its years, not knowing that it has any, do you not see that you are sighting an energy with the instincts of immor- tality ? It is a remarkable fact, that amid all the changes that come over us and go through us, there is a persistent consciousness of the same selfhood. There is a cen- tral fixed /, about which the outer selfs come and go. The body changes, the thought- world, the feelings, the purposes. We go off in dreams, in visions, in insanity ; but returning reason gives us back the same conscious self. Does not this persistent personality point to a selfhood that will survive all changes and catastro- phes ? Again, the soul has telltale thoughts. It thinks God, Truth, Goodness, Infinity, Eternity. From with- in itself it sends out thoughts, like the feelers of insects, which reach over into the eternal world, feel the reali- ties there, take their form and proportion, and assure it of their certainty and quality. And when you see this, do you not see the very energy of immortality it- self in its forecast outreachings and workings ? Now these signs and tell-tale revelations do not merely sug- gest a future existence, without assuring us of its per- manency, but they carry us grandly and triumphantly 320 ISRAEL EDSON DWINELL. over into the conviction of immortality itself. The sonl is so constituted that if it catches sight of a future existence at all, as awaiting it, it stops not at any half-way point, but speaks at once to the belief of its endless existence. If man is so great, what shall we do for him ? Help him up to God, to truth, to goodness, to duty, and so fit him for his true home. If man is so great, what shall we do for ourselves ? Live for immortality, our own and that of others, and so secure the highest end of existence.