But there is evidently a limiting principle at work, recognized by the public, and expressed by the Government. The limitation of the hours, the clause against the sale of spirituous liquors, and the close of that portion of the building which would involve actual handiwork, are recognized by the public at once as right and seemly. There is a public feeling in England which will care for these things, which are supposed to be imperilled; a public feeling which, during the next years, it will be the office of the Church to nurture and unfold. If that public feeling fail us, then, unquestionably, our condition will be most serious; and the question must be argued, how far a Government may maintain, in the face of public feeling, a system of preventions and prohibitions? That it has the right, up to a certain point, most people feel; that there is a point beyond which it is most unsafe, all are agreed. But that point will never be reached in England, while the Church is faithful to her country and to her Lord. If that point ever be reached, on us will be the sin. Ministers of the Church of Christ! there has been too long a schism in the army. The shepherds have been battling for precedence and prerogative, and the sheep have strayed. The call to us now is for work; work—not by platform crudities, vanities, and falsities; not by protests, preventions, petitions, and bills of spiritual rights;—but by earnest, manful, godly, spiritual effort to make the Gospel known and felt as the power of God unto salvation. The power of the Gospel is not felt as it once was. Admirable sermons are preached, and with admirable emphasis and theatric art, but power does not go forth from them. Men look at us, hear us, admire us, but our prehensile power is gone. We do not lay hold on men. We have dealt too much in a religion of exclusions and negations. We need to take hold on men, and say,—“We have good news—good news of God.” The cry, “Good news! light! bread! life!” should be heard more loudly from our pulpits. We should not lack hearers, if we could make them feel that we had good news to tell. Were our Master among us at this crisis, He would not work by protests and prohibitions. Wherever the people were, there would He be, vehement against organized hypocritic wickedness, but patient, gentle, merciful to the souls gone astray in their darkness and misery. Oh, that our hearts could catch that tone of touching human tenderness wherewith He would address this weary and burdened generation, “Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” But He is with us alway, and, by ways that we little discern and sympathize with, He may be leading this generation to himself. Let us be humble-hearted and full of charity; let us work, work harder and more lovingly, with more oneness of heart and voice, to make men feel that it is God’s good news to them which we have in charge, and then will our Sabbaths return to us, fresh and pure, beautiful and blest, as that George Herbert wrote of.
“SUNDAY.
“O day most calm, most bright,
The fruit of this, the next world’s bud,
Th’ indorsement of supreme delight,
Writ by a friend, and with his blood;
The couch of time; care’s balm and bay:
The week were dark, but for thy light:
Thy torch doth show the way.“Man had straight forward gone
To endless death: but thou dost pull
And turn us round to look on one,
Whom, if we were not very dull,
We could not choose but look on still;
Since there is no place so alone,
The which he doth not fill.“The Sundays of man’s life,
Threaded together on time’s string,
Make bracelets to adorn the wife
Of the eternal glorious King.
On Sunday heaven’s gate stands ope;
Blessings are plentiful and rife,
More plentiful than hope.“The rest of our creation
Our great Redeemer did remove
With the same shake, which at his passion
Did th’ earth and all things with it move.
As Samson bore the doors away,
Christ’s hands, though nail’d, wrought our salvation,
And did unhinge that day.“The brightness of that day
We sullied by our foul offence:
Wherefore that robe we cast away,
Having a new at his expense,
Whose drops of blood paid the full price,
That was requir’d to make us gay,
And fit for Paradise.“Thou art a day of mirth:
And where the week-days trail on ground,
Thy flight is higher, as thy birth.
O let me take thee at the bound,
Leaping with thee from sev’n to seven,
Till that we both, being toss’d from earth,
Fly hand in hand to heaven!”
J. Unwin, Gresham Steam Press, 31, Bucklersbury London.