James Parsons was a Congregationalist. His character, and the character of his preaching, may be learned from his published sermons. But, strange to say, the sermons published by himself, are not near so good, nor do they convey half so good an idea of his power, as those reported by short-hand writers and published by others. He was more, and better, and mightier in the pulpit, before a large and living congregation, than in his closet alone. My remembrance of these three great and godly men, and powerful Christian ministers, is a rich and eternal treasure. I can never come near them, but I may follow them, as I did in the days of my youth, "Afar off."
Whether the strong practical tendency of my mind did not carry me too far sometimes, and make my preaching somewhat one-sided, I cannot say. I may not be considered qualified to judge. I have, however, an opinion on the subject. My impression is, that my method of preaching was thoroughly scriptural and evangelical. And it was, I believe, the kind of preaching which the Church and the world particularly needed. It was, too, the kind of preaching to which I believe I was specially called, and for which I was specially fitted. It was the only kind in which I felt myself perfectly at home. And the effects were good. Sinners were converted. Unbelievers were convinced. And believers were improved and comforted. They were led to read and study the Scriptures more, and to read and study them with greater pleasure, and to greater profit. They became more enamoured of Christianity, more zealous for its spread, and more able in its defence.
And the societies among which I labored always prospered, and those among which I labored most prospered most abundantly. My labors proved especially useful to the young. My classes were crowded with thoughtful, earnest, inquiring youths. And those who fell under my influence became, as a rule, intelligent, devoted, and useful characters. Not a few of them continue laborious and exemplary Christians, and able and successful ministers, to the present day. I meet with good and useful people almost everywhere, many of whom are in the ministry, who acknowledge me as their spiritual father, and consider themselves indebted to my former ministry, and to my early writings, both for their standing and usefulness in the Church, and for their success and happiness in life.
One would suppose that a method of preaching which was followed by such happy results, should have been encouraged. And so it was by the great mass of the people. They heard me gladly. They came in crowds wherever I was announced to preach, and filled the largest chapels to their utmost capacity. They drank in my words with eagerness, and made no secret of the place I occupied in their affection and esteem. But many of my brethren in the ministry regarded me with great disquietude. They thought my preaching grievously defective. "It failed," they said, "to give due prominence to the distinctive features of the gospel economy." "It is good," they would say, "as far as it goes; but it does not go far enough. It is too vague, too general. His sermons are beautiful and good in their way, but they are not the Gospel. They are true; but they are not the whole truth. There is not enough of Christ in them. We find fault with them, not for what they contain, but for what they do not contain. True, they make mention of the great facts and doctrines of Christianity, but they do not make enough of them; they do not dwell on them as their constant theme." They made many such complaints. They charged me with winning from my hearers, for a partial and defective view of the Gospel, the love and reverence which were due only to a very different view. They called me a legalist, a work-monger, and other offensive names. They charged me too with spoiling the people, with giving them a distaste for ordinary kinds of preaching, and making it hard for other preachers to follow me. The complaints they whispered in the ears of their friends soon found their way to mine. I endeavored to justify myself by appeals to Scripture, to Wesley, and to other authorities. It would have been better perhaps if I had kept silent and gone quietly on with my work. But some of my friends thought otherwise. They wished to be furnished with answers to my traducers, and so constrained me to speak. My defence only led to renewed and more violent attacks. My opponents could not think well of my style of preaching, without thinking ill of their own. They could not acknowledge my method to be evangelical, without confessing their own to be grievously defective, and to have expected them to do that would have been the extreme of folly. They could do no other therefore than regard me as a dangerous man, and do what they could to bring my preaching and sentiments into suspicion, and prepare the way for my exclusion from the ministry. This was the second cause of the unhappy feeling which took possession of my mind.
A few quotations from a Journal written about this time may be of use and interest here.
CHAPTER IX.
EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY.
I heard T. Batty yesterday. His text was, "Come unto Me all ye that labor, and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." He urged people to come to Christ, but he never told them what it was to come to Him. We cannot come to Him literally now, as people did when He was on earth; but we can leave all other teachers and guides, and renounce the dominion of our appetites and passions, and put ourselves under His teaching and government. In other words, we can become Christians; we can learn Christ's doctrine and obey it, and, thus obeying, trust in Him for salvation. But Mr. Batty said not a word about this. He talked as if all that people had to do, was to roll themselves on Christ, or cast themselves on Him just as they were. He made all the passages about bringing forth fruits meet for repentance,—hearing Christ's words and doing them,—denying ourselves and taking up our cross,—using our talents, working in His cause, &c., of no effect. He said, "Come just as you are. If you tarry till you are better, you will never come at all;" which seems to me, neither Scripture nor common sense. To come to Christ, in the proper sense of the words, is to become better;—it is to cease to live to ourselves and sin, and to live to God. Hence Christ, in connection with Mr. Batty's text says, "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek, and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls." The meaning of this is, give up the service of self and sin, and serve me. Take me for your pattern, and be as I am, and live as I live. But he never noticed the latter part of the passage.