"But, parson, that is not all. I am in business. I trade horses, for instance, and make the best bargain I can; and some people say that I tell lies in making my bargains."
"O, well," said the parson, "it is right for us to take care of our interests. That need not hinder you."
"Now, look here, parson," said our friend, somewhat excited, "what good will it do me to join your Church if I need not be any thing but what I am? I am not a Christian now, I know; but if I ever join the Church, I mean to be one."
Even the world, unsaved, dim in vision, and hard in heart, has learned enough of the truth to despise those who are ready to sacrifice religion for the sake of numbers, and the pecuniary and social strength which numbers bring. If the Methodist Episcopal Church should abandon her traditions, and retreat from her present high position in morals, her apostasy would be attended by a fearful loss of religious power. If such an exhortation were allowable, I would call on all upon whom devolves the oversight of the Church to stand firm for the strict morals of Methodism. There is always a difficulty in maintaining Scriptural discipline. To enforce it is often painful to the pastor. It sometimes disturbs the membership and the community, interrupting friendly intercourse and exciting evil passions; nevertheless, we can not give up Church order. The pressure can be escaped only by a complete abandonment of discipline. Concessions and compromises merely transfer the battle to another point, where we must again fight, our forces demoralized by defeat and the enemy emboldened by victory.
If there is any place which we can hold against the enemy, any line where we can muster our forces and repel invasion, it is on the frontier. The king who fails to meet his foes the moment they set foot within his territory is already conquered. Drawing the line, and taking her stand in favor of total abstinence from all that intoxicates, the Methodist Episcopal Church has kept herself pure from the sin and shame of intemperance, and yet not one in ten thousand of her members is ever arraigned for violation of the stringent rule. Could the Church tolerate what is called "moderate drinking" without being compelled to deal with multitudes whom moderate drinking had led into the depths of drunkenness? For the same reason it is easier to keep our young people from objectionable diversions than to discipline them for the grosser inconsistencies into which indulgence would speedily lead them.
Will it be said that if we are so rigid our young people will leave us and join other communions? Be it so, if it must. They who are in haste to sell their membership in the Church for so poor and small a mess of pottage can do us little good if they remain. They go out from us because they are not of us. A thousand dancing, wine-bibbing, card-playing, theater-going Church members will not furnish one worthy candidate for the Christian ministry, not one devoted class-leader, not one pious man or woman ready for the spiritual work of the Church of God. If they leave us in order to seek a more congenial home, we can better afford to lose than to keep them. The rubbing out of minus quantities increases the sum total. And if any other Church, so called, imagine that they can make their swarm the stronger by hiving our drones, they are certainly welcome to try the experiment. If there be a noble emulation that may justly prompt us to "labor more abundantly" than others, and excel them if we may, in Gospel successes, we need not fear the rivalry of any fashionable, worldly, easy-going denomination. Such as these will never "take our crown." Pure doctrine, a faithful ministry, unwavering adherence to the Divine law of morals, a devoted, holy, earnest laity, alone will win the prize.
But let us not flatter ourselves with the idea of a vantage-ground which no one else has the wisdom to see nor the grace to occupy. No low degree of morality will suffice to place us at the head of the sacramental host, or even give us a position among the leaders. Others as well as ourselves see the beauty of holiness, and are striving to put on the robe "white and clean" which is "the righteousness of saints." Almost every branch of the Church of Christ has taken the alarm, and, by its leading ministers or resolutions passed in ecclesiastical councils, has spoken emphatic words of warning. It would be easy to fill scores of pages with these utterances, coming from Churches differing widely in doctrine and in usage. A few extracts, with the sources whence they emanate, will show us the sentiments and convictions of the general Church in our whole land.
The General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church thus spoke half a century ago:
"On the fashionable though, as we believe, dangerous amusements of theatrical exhibitions and dancing, we deem it necessary to make a few observations. The theater we have always considered as a school of immorality.... With respect to dancing, we think it necessary to observe that however plausible it may appear to some, it is perhaps not the less dangerous on account of that plausibility.... Let it once be introduced and it is difficult to give it limits. It steals away precious time, dissipates religious impressions, and hardens the heart."
The General Assembly of 1865 reaffirmed the action of the session of 1818, condemned card-playing—to which attention had been called by a memorial—and "affectionately exhorted all the members of the Church" to avoid "all recreations and amusements which are calculated to impair spirituality, lessen Christian influence, or bring discredit upon them in their profession as members of a Christian Church."