History of Rationalism Embracing a Survey of the Present State of Protestant Theology

by J. F. Hurst

Without, the heavens were dark with the portents of impending social convulsions. The signs were unmistakable. The masses were intoxicated with a wild frenzy seldom, if ever, surpassed. They were intent upon the destruction of all constitutional authority. Freedom from the restraints of law and religion, the ruling thought of the Continent during 1848, was their sole object. It was clear that if the populace could overthrow the governments they would not be long in putting an end to all the outward and traditional observances of religion. For the middle and lower classes had not as yet become permeated by the healthful leaven which had been introduced into the theological circles by the apologetic antagonists of Strauss and his compeers. The wisest statesman could not foresee one day's deeds of that skeptical, revolutionary rabble, which had already lost its self-control. Blood had actually been shed. Barricades had been reared in the streets of the larger cities. The universities were pouring forth their hundreds of students and professors, to take part in the conflict. The revolutionary crowds were choosing their leaders; the royalist forces were everywhere fortifying; princes were concealing their plate and strengthening their hiding-places. This was the social and political scene while the five hundred were praying, singing, counseling, and comforting each other over the sleeping dust of Luther and Melanchthon.

In the days of the imprisoned Peter, fetters were strong, prison doors well-barred, and the four quaternions of soldier guards faithful; but all these safeguards could not resist the force which lay in the unceasing prayers of the church. So with the revolutionary movements of the people in 1848, as opposed to the Christian faith of the members of the Church Diet. That assembly contributed more than all other human agencies to save the German states from utter political and social ruin, and the German church from a longer night and a fiercer storm than any through which it had passed.

The practical result of the session was an invitation to all the Protestant churches of Germany to observe the fifth of the coming November, the Sunday following the anniversary of the Reformation, as a day of humiliation for past unfaithfulness and prayer for the revival of true religion throughout the land. It was resolved to form a confederation of all the German churches adhering to the confessions of the Reformation, in order to promote denominational unity, be a mutual defense against Rationalism and indifference, advance social reforms, protect the rights of the church against the encroachments of civil authority, and secure a more intimate fellowship with evangelical bodies outside of Germany.

The Church Diet has steadily enlarged its sphere of operation and gathered strength and influence. Besides attracting great throngs of spectators from the surrounding states, its members have attained to the number of two thousand on more than one occasion. The providential prosperity which has attended its history is the best proof of the real demand for its institution and for the valuable purposes it has already served. At every session the most important questions of the day are discussed with freedom and always with great ability. Among other themes which have come up for careful attention, we may mention the relation of church and state, the sanctity of the Sabbath, divorce and the oath, the relations of Protestantism to Romanism, all forms of skepticism, and the inner organization of the church,—such as the renewal of the diaconate, the possession of church estates, and the abrogation or retainment of ecclesiastical discipline.[87]

During the first session of the Church Diet a man arose to speak, who indicated by his earnest manner that he had been thinking deeply, and that the subject of his remarks was a matter of no ordinary importance. It was John Henry Wichern, founder of the Rough House, near Hamburg. He had just returned from his laborious tour through the districts of Silesia, which, in addition to the demoralizing revolutionary excitement, were stricken by famine and fever. Whole villages were depopulated, not enough inhabitants being left alive to bury the dead. Grief and despair reigned everywhere. The number of orphans had grown so large that Wichern and his few assistants, with all their experience and organizing power, were unable to remedy their immediate wants. The scene having made a profound impression upon his mind, he unburdened his heart to the assembly. He described what he had witnessed, pictured the evils of his people in their true light, and declared that the church must either do more Christian missionary work at home, or God's curse would rest upon it. He therefore called upon the Diet to incorporate the Inner Mission into its system as a necessary measure to improve the religious and social prosperity of the country. He spoke as one sent from God. The assembly was mastered, and the reformer's plan adopted. In all the subsequent meetings of the Diet, about one half of its session, or two whole days, have been occupied in the management of the Inner Mission, and in discussions on the best means to secure its increased effectiveness.

But Wichern was not a stranger to the members of the assembly. The beneficial results of his labors at the Rough House had already been felt throughout Europe. An old thatched cottage, about three miles from Hamburg, was the nucleus of his work. He sought out wild, abandoned boys, and aimed to bring them within the fold of domestic Christian influence. He solicited no contributions, but, adopting the method of Müller, of Bristol, England, prayed to God that funds necessary for his great purpose might be forthcoming by voluntary benefactions. An associate was so struck with the repeated bestowal of the needed supply that he exclaimed, "Just look! We no sooner make our purchase in faith, than the Lord stands behind us with the purse to pay the bill." Gradually the Rough House was surrounded with other buildings, while the managers and those under their care became very numerous. The institution was no longer a local but a national charity. It was a centre of light for the abandoned of all lands. In 1856 there were two hundred and sixty of its reformatories in existence, and the work of establishing new ones was going on rapidly in Europe and other parts of the world.

Of the gratifying results of the training at the Rough House, Wichern says: "A glance round the circle of those who were children of the House carries us into every region of the world, even into the heart of Australia. We find them in every grade and social position; one is a clergyman, another a student of theology, and a third a student of law; others are, or were, teaching. We find among them officers in our German armies, agriculturists, merchants in Germany, and at least in two other European countries, partners in honorable firms. They are presidents of industrial institutions, skillful landscape-gardeners, lithographists, and xylographists; artisans scattered through many towns, and wandering apprentices in every conceivable craft. One is a sea captain, some are pilots, others sailors who have taken one voyage after another and seen all the seas of the world. They are colonists in America and Australia, and both there and at home there are happy fathers and mothers, training their children righteously, and building up their family life after the fashion they have learned here. And there are men-servants and women-servants and day laborers; and, besides those who are better off, there are also the poorer, and such as are burdened by care either with or without their own fault. Besides, a considerable number have died at home and abroad (very many, in proportion, of its earlier girls); and some of those who went out to sea have never returned; probably many have found a sea-grave; some have disappeared; some suddenly turn up after long years have passed. I recall one who left this House twenty years ago, and of whom I heard nothing for the last ten years, until he has now notified himself as a well-doing master-artisan, and a happy father, in a distant town."

The Inner Mission, of which the Rough House was the origin, is not simply a philanthropic institution. Wichern distinctly discards this limitation, by saying that its object is to do within the sphere of Christendom what the church is endeavoring to accomplish in heathen lands, "the propagation of pure evangelical faith and the relief of physical suffering,"[88] as far as it may be possible to reach these ends. "It aims at a relief of all kinds of spiritual and temporal misery by works of faith and charity; at a revival of nominal Christendom and a general reform of society on the basis of the gospel and the creed of the Reformation. It is Christian philanthropy and charity applied to the various deep-rooted evils of society, as they were brought to light so fearfully in Germany by the revolutionary outbreaks of 1848. It comprises the care of the poor, the sick, the captive, and prisoner, the laboring classes, the traveling journeyman, the emigrants, the temperance movement, the efforts for the promotion of a better observance of the Lord's day, and similar reforms, so greatly needed in the churches of Europe."

But while the German church has been attentive to its work at home, it has not been negligent of its duty toward those beyond the pale of Christendom. As long ago as the beginning of the present century there was a missionary school organized by Janicke at Berlin. Others have been established at brief intervals since that time, while missionary societies under the auspices of both the Lutheran and Reformed churches have arisen in a number of the cities and larger towns.

One of the pioneers of the foreign mission enterprise was Gossner, whose life, at first full of reverses and disappointment, has lately come to a triumphant and brilliant close. He was originally a Roman Catholic priest, but his Pietistic inclination precluded him from the favor of his less devout brethren. He went from one city to another, tarrying only a few years in each. From St. Petersburg he went to Berlin, thence to Hamburg, and afterwards to Leipzig. While in the last city he quietly left the Romish fold and took orders in the Protestant church. He became pastor of the Bethlehem chapel in Munich. His effective life began there, though he was then fifty-six years of age. His ministrations were fascinating, and the people came from all sides to hear him preach.