The new policy produced strange results. At the Theological Seminary in Niesky the professors found themselves in a strange position. If they taught the old theology of Spangenberg, they would be untrue to their convictions; if they taught their convictions, they would be untrue to the Church; and, therefore, they solved the problem by teaching no theology at all. Instead of lecturing on the Bible, they lectured now on philosophy; instead of expounding the teaching of Christ and His Apostles, they expounded the teaching of Kant, Fichte and Jacobi; and when the students became ministers, they had little but philosophy to offer the people. For ordinary people philosophy is as tasteless as the white of an egg. As the preachers spoke far above the heads of the people, they soon lost touch with their flocks; the hungry sheep looked up, and were not fed; the sermons were tinkling bra.s.s and clanging cymbal; and the ministers, instead of attending to their pastoral duties, were hidden away in their studies in clouds of philosophical and theological smoke, and employed their time composing discourses, which neither they nor the people could understand. Thus the shepherds lived in one world, and the wandering sheep in another; and thus the bond of sympathy between pastor and people was broken. For this reason the Moravian Church in Germany began now to show signs of decay in moral and spiritual power; and the only encouraging signs of progress were the establishment of the new settlement of Konigsfeld in the Black Forest, the Diaspora work in the Baltic Provinces, officially recognized by the Czar, the growth of the boarding-schools, and the extension of foreign missions. In the boarding-schools the Brethren were at their best. At most of them the pupils were prepared for confirmation, and the children of Catholics were admitted. But the life in the congregations was at a low ebb. No longer were the Brethren"s Houses homes of Christian fellowship; they were now little better than lodging-houses, and the young men had become sleepy, frivolous, and even in some cases licentious. For a short time the U.E.C. tried to remedy this evil by enforcing stricter rules; and when this vain proceeding failed, they thought of abolishing Brethren"s Houses altogether. At the services in Church the Bible was little read, and the people were content to feed their souls on the Hymn-book and the Catechism. The Diacony managers were slothful in business, and the Diaconies ceased to pay. The subscriptions to central funds dwindled. The fine property at Barby was abandoned. The Diaspora work was curtailed.
Another cause of decay was the growing use of the Lot. For that growth the obvious reason was that, when the Brethren saw men adrift on every side, they felt that they themselves must have an anchor that would hold. It was even used in the boarding-schools. No pupil could be admitted to a school unless his application had been confirmed by the Lot.[144] No man could be a member of a Conference, no election was valid, no law was carried, no important business step was taken, without the consent of the Lot. For example, it was by the decision of the Lot that the Brethren abandoned their cause at Barby; and thus, afraid of intellectual progress, they submitted affairs of importance to an external artificial authority. Again and again the U.E.C. desired to summon a Synod; and again and again the Lot rejected the proposal.
Meanwhile another destructive force was working. Napoleon Buonaparte was scouring Europe, and the German settlements were constantly invaded by soldiers. At Barby, Generals Murat and Bernadotte were lodged in the castle, and entertained by the Warden. At Gnadau the French made the chapel their headquarters, killed and ate the live stock, ransacked the kitchens and cellars, cleared out the stores, and made barricades of the casks, wheelbarrows and carts. At Neudietendorf the Prussians lay like locusts. At Ebersdorf, Napoleon lodged in the Brethren"s House, and quartered twenty or thirty of his men in every private dwelling. At Kleinwelke, where Napoleon settled with the whole staff of the Grand Army, the Single Sisters had to nurse two thousand wounded warriors; and the pupils in the boarding-school had to be removed to Uhyst. At Gnadenberg the settlement was almost ruined. The furniture was smashed, the beds were cut up, the tools of the tradesmen were spoiled, and the soldiers took possession of the Sisters" House. But Napoleon afterwards visited the settlement, declared that he knew the Brethren to be a quiet and peaceable people, and promised to protect them in future. He did not, however, offer them any compensation; his promise of protection was not fulfilled; and a few months later his own soldiers gutted the place again. At Herrnhut, on one occasion, when the French were there, the chapel was illuminated, and a service was held to celebrate Napoleon"s birthday; and then a little later Blucher arrived on the scene, and summoned the people to give thanks to G.o.d for a victory over the French.
At Niesky the whole settlement became a general infirmary. Amid scenes such as this Church progress was impossible. The cost in money was enormous. At Herrnhut alone the levies amounted to 3,000; to this must be added the destruction of property and the feeding of thousands of troops of both sides; and thus the Brethren"s expenses were increased by many thousands of pounds.
At length, however, at Waterloo Napoleon met his conqueror; the great criminal was captured and sent to St. Helena; and then, while he was playing chess and grumbling at the weather, the Brethren met again at Herrnhut in another General Synod {1818.}. At this Synod some curious regulations were made. For the purpose of cultivating personal holiness, Bishop Cunow proposed that henceforward the members of the Moravian Church should be divided into two cla.s.ses. In the first cla.s.s he placed the ordinary members--i.e., those who had been confirmed or who had been received from other Churches; and all belonging to this cla.s.s were allowed to attend Communion once a quarter. His second cla.s.s was a sacred "Inner Circle." It consisted of those, and only those, who made a special religious profession. No one could be admitted to this "Inner Circle" without the sanction of the Lot; and none but those belonging to the "Circle" could be members of the Congregation Council or Committee.
All members belonging to this cla.s.s attended the Communion once a month.
For a wonder this strange resolution was carried, and remained in force for seven years; and at bottom its ruling principle was that only those elected by the Lot had any real share in Church government. But the question of the Lot was still causing trouble. Again there came a request from abroad--this time from America--that it should no longer be enforced in marriages. For seven years the question was keenly debated, and the radicals had to fight very hard for victory. First the Synod pa.s.sed a resolution that the Lot need not be used for marriages except in the regular settlements; then the members in the settlements grumbled, and were granted the same privilege (1819), and only ministers and missionaries were compelled to marry by Lot; then the ministers begged for liberty, and received the same privilege as the laymen (1825); and, finally, the missionaries found release (1836), and thus the enforced use of the Lot in marriages pa.s.sed out of Moravian history.
But the Brethren had better work on hand than to tinker with their const.i.tution. At the root of their troubles had been the neglect of the Bible. In order, therefore, to restore the Bible to its proper position in Church esteem, the Brethren now established the Theological College at Gnadenfeld (1818). There John Plitt took the training of the students in hand; there systematic lectures were given on Exegesis, Dogmatics, Old Testament Introduction, Church History, and Brethren"s History; there, in a word, John Plitt succeeded in training a band of ministers who combined a love for the Bible with love for the Brethren"s Church.
At the same time, the Synod appointed an "Educational Department" in the U.E.C.; the boarding-schools were now more efficiently managed; and the number of pupils ran up to thirteen hundred.
Amid this new life the sun rose on the morning of the 17th of June, 1722, a hundred years after Christian David had felled the first tree at Herrnhut. The Brethren glanced at the past. The blood of the martyrs seemed dancing in their veins. At Herrnhut the archives of the Church had been stored; Frederick Kolbing had ransacked the records; and only a few months before he had produced his book, "Memorial Days of the Renewed Brethren"s Church." From hand to hand the volume pa.s.sed, and was read with eager delight. The spirit of patriotic zeal was revived. Never surely was there such a gathering in Herrnhut as on that Centenary Day.
From all the congregations in Germany, from Denmark, from Sweden, from Holland, from Switzerland, from England, the Brethren streamed to thank the Great Shepherd for His never-failing kindnesses. There were Brethren and friends of the Brethren, clergymen and laymen, poor peasants in simple garb from the old homeland in Moravia, and high officials from the Court of Saxony in purple and scarlet and gold. As the vast a.s.sembly pressed into the Church, the trombones sounded forth, and the choir sang the words of the Psalmist, so rich in historic a.s.sociations: "Here the sparrow hath found a home, and the swallow a nest for her young, even thine altars, oh, Lord of Hosts!" It was a day of high jubilation and a day of penitent mourning; a day of festive robes and a day of sack-cloth and ashes. As the great throng, some thousands in number, and arranged in choirs, four and four, stood round the spot on the roadside where Christian David had raised his axe, and where a new memorial-stone now stood, they rejoiced because during those hundred years the seed had become a great tree, and they mourned because the branches had begun to wither and the leaves begun to fall. The chief speaker was John Baptist Albertini, the old friend of Schleiermacher. Stern and clear was the message he gave; deep and full was the note it sounded. "We have lost the old love," he said; "let us repent. Let us take a warning from the past; let us return unto the Lord." With faces abashed, with heads bowed, with hearts renewed, with tears of sorrow and of joy in their eyes, the Brethren went thoughtfully homewards.
At the next General Synod (1825), however, they made an alarming discovery. In spite of the revival of Church enthusiasm, they found that during the last seven years they had lost no fewer than one thousand two hundred members; and, searching about to find the cause, they found it in Bishop Cunow"s "Inner Circle." It was time to abolish that "Circle"; and abolished it therefore was.
At the next General Synod (1836), the Brethren took another step forward. In order to encourage the general study of the Bible, they arranged that in every congregation regular Bible readings should be held; and, in order to deepen the interest in evangelistic work, they decreed that a prayer meeting should be held the first Monday of every month. At this meeting the topic of intercession was to be, not the mere prosperity of the Brethren, but the cultivation of good relations with other Churches and the extension of the Kingdom of G.o.d throughout the world.
The next sign of progress was the wonderful revival in the Paedagogium at Niesky {1841.}. For nine years that important inst.i.tution, where ministerial candidates were trained before they entered the Theological Seminary, had been under the management of Frederick Immanuel Kleinschmidt; and yet, despite his sternness and piety, the boys had shown but a meagre spirit of religion. If Kleinschmidt rebuked them, they hated him; if he tried to admonish them privately, they told him fibs. There, at the very heart of the young Church life, religion was openly despised; and the Paedagogium had now become little better than an ordinary private school. If a boy, for example, wished to read his Bible, he had to do so in French, pretend that his purpose was simply to learn a new language, and thus escape the mockery of his schoolmates.
The case was alarming. If piety was despised in the school of the prophets, what pastors was Israel likely to have in the future?
The revival began very quietly. One boy, Prince Reuss, was summoned home to be present at his father"s death-bed; and when he returned to the school a few days later found himself met by an amount of sympathy which boys are not accustomed to show. A change of some kind had taken place during his absence. The night.w.a.tchman, Hager, had been heard praying in his attic for the boys. A boy, in great trouble with a trigonometrical problem which would not come right, had solved the difficulty by linking work with prayer. The boys in the "First Room"--i.e., the elder boys--made an agreement to speak with one another openly before the Holy Communion.
At length, on November 13th, when the Brethren in the other congregations were celebrating the centenary of the Headship of Christ, there occurred, at the evening Communion at Niesky, "something new, something unusual, something mightily surprising." With shake of hand and without a word those elder boys made a solemn covenant to serve Christ. Among them were two who, fifty years later, were still famous Moravian preachers; and when they recalled the events of that evening they could give no explanation to each other. "It was," they said, in fond recollection, "something unusual, but something great and holy, that overcame us and moved us. It must have been the Spirit of Christ."
For those boys that wonderful Communion service had ever sacred a.s.sociations; and Bishop Wunderling, in telling the story, declared his own convictions. "The Lord took possession of the house," he said, "bound all to one another and to Himself, and over all was poured the spirit of love and forgiveness, and a power from above was distributed from the enjoyment of the Communion."
"What wonder was it," wrote one boy home, "that when we brothers united to praise the Lord, He did not put to shame our longings and our faith, but kindled others from our fire."
In this work the chief leaders were Kleinschmidt the headmaster, Gustave Tietzen, Ferdinand Geller, and Ernest Reichel. At first, of course, there was some danger that the boys would lose their balance; but the masters, in true Moravian style, checked all signs of fanaticism. It is hardly correct to call the movement a revival. It is better to call it an awakening. It was fanned by historic memories, was very similar to the first awakening at Herrnhut, and soon led to very similar results.
No groans, or tears, or morbid fancies marred the scene. In the playground the games continued as usual. On every hand were radiant faces, and groups in earnest chat. No one ever asked, "Is so-and-so converted?" For those lads the burning question was, "In what way can I be like Christ?" As the boys retired to rest at night, they would ask the masters to remember them in prayer, and the masters asked the same in return of the boys. The rule of force was over. Before, old Kleinschmidt, like our English Dr. Temple, had been feared as a "just beast." Now he was the lovable father. At revivals in schools it has sometimes happened that while the boys have looked more pious, they have not always been more diligent and truthful; but at Niesky the boys now became fine models of industry, honesty and good manners. They confessed their faults to one another, gave each other friendly warnings, formed unions for prayer, applied the Bible to daily life, were conscientious in the cla.s.s-room and in the playground; and then, when these golden days were over, went out with tongues of flame to spread the news through the Church. The real test of a revival is its lasting effect on character. If it leads to selfish dreaming, it is clay; if it leads to life-long sacrifice, it is gold; and well the awakening at Niesky stood the test.
At the next General Synod all present could see that the Moravian Church was now restored to full life, and the American deputies, who had come to see her decently interrred, were amazed at her hopefulness and vigour. At that Synod the signs of vigorous life were many {1848.}. For the first time the Brethren opened their meetings to the public, allowed reporters to be present, and had the results of their proceedings printed and sold. For the first time they now resolved that, instead of shutting themselves up in settlements, they would try, where possible, to establish town and country congregations. For the first time they now agreed that, in the English and American congregations, new members might be received without the sanction of the Lot. Meanwhile, the boys awakened at Niesky were already in harness. Some had continued their studies at Gnadenfeld, and were now powerful preachers. Some had become teachers at Konigsfeld, Kleinwelke, and Neuwied. Some were preaching the Gospel in foreign lands. Along the Rhine, in South and West Germany, in Metz and the Wartebruch, and in Russian Poland, the Brethren opened new fields of Diaspora work; and away in the broadening mission field the energy was greater than ever. In Greenland a new station was founded at Friedrichstal; in Labrador, at Hebron; in Surinam, at Bambey; in South Africa, at Siloh and Goshen; on the Moskito Coast, at Bluefields; in Australia, at Ebenezer; and in British India, near Tibet, at Kyelang.
And thus our narrative brings us down to 1857. We may pause to sum up results. If a church is described as making progress, most readers generally wish to know how many new congregations she has founded, and how many members she has gained. But progress of that kind was not what the Brethren desired; and during the period covered by this chapter they founded only one new congregation. They had still only seventeen congregations in Germany, in the proper sense of that word; but, on the other hand, they had fifty-nine Diaspora centres, and about one hundred and fifty Diaspora workers. At the heart, therefore, of all their endeavours we see the design, not to extend the Moravian Church, but to hold true to the old ideals of Zinzendorf. In that sense, at least, they had made good progress. They showed to the world a spirit of brotherly union; they were on good terms with other Churches; they made their schools and their Diaspora centres homes of Christian influence; and, above all, like a diamond set in gold, there flashed still with its ancient l.u.s.tre the missionary spirit of the fathers.
CHAPTER IV. -- THE BRITISH COLLAPSE, 1760-1801.
Of all the problems raised by the history of the Brethren, the most difficult to solve is the one we have now to face. In the days of John Wesley, the Moravians in England were famous; in the days of Robertson, of Brighton, they were almost unknown. For a hundred years the Moravians in England played so obscure and modest a part in our national life that our great historians, such as Green and Lecky, do not even notice their existence, and the problem now before us is, what caused this swift and mysterious decline?
As the companions of Zinzendorf--Boehler, Cennick, Rogers and Okeley--pa.s.sed one by one from the scenes of their labours, there towered above the other English Brethren a figure of no small grandeur.
It was Benjamin La Trobe, once a famous preacher in England. He sprang from a Huguenot family, and had first come forward in Dublin. He had been among the first there to give a welcome to John Cennick, had held to Cennick when others left him, had helped to form a number of his hearers into the Dublin congregation, and had been with Cennick on his romantic journey"s among the bogs and c.o.c.kpits of Ulster. As the years rolled on, he came more and more to the front. At Dublin he had met a teacher of music named Worthington, and a few years later La Trobe and Worthington were famous men at Fulneck. When Fulneck chapel was being built, La Trobe stood upon the roof of a house to preach. When the chapel was finished, La Trobe became Brethren"s labourer, and his friend Worthington played the organ. In those days Fulneck Chapel was not large enough to hold the crowds that came, and La Trobe had actually to stand upon the roof to harangue the vast waiting throng. As Cennick had been before in Ireland, so La Trobe was now in England. He was far above most preachers of his day. "He enraptured his audience," says an old account, "by his resistless eloquence. His language flowed like rippling streams, and his ideas sparkled like diamonds. His taste was perfect, and his ill.u.s.trations were dazzling; and when he painted the blackness of the human heart, when he depicted the matchless grace of Christ, when he described the beauty of holiness, he spoke with an energy, with a pa.s.sion, with a dignified sweep of majestic power which probed the heart, and p.r.i.c.ked the conscience, and charmed the troubled breast." It was he of whom it is so quaintly recorded in a congregation diary: "Br.
La Trobe spoke much on many things."
For twenty-one years this brilliant preacher was the chief manager of the Brethren"s work in England; and yet, though he was not a German himself, his influence was entirely German in character {1765-86.}. He was manager of the Brethren"s English finances; he was appointed to his office by the German U.E.C.; and thus, along with James Hutton as Secretary, he acted as official representative of the Directing Board in England.
In many ways his influence was all for good. He helped to restore to vigorous life the "Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel" (1768) remained its President till his death, and did much to further its work in Labrador. He was a diligent writer and translator. He wrote a "Succinct View of the Missions" of the Brethren (1771), and thus brought the subject of foreign missions before the Christian public; and in order to let inquirers know what sort of people the Moravians really were, he translated and published Spangenberg"s "Idea of Faith,"
Spangenberg"s "Concise Account of the Present Const.i.tution of the Unitas Fratrum," and David Cranz"s "History of the Brethren." The result was good. The more people read these works by La Trobe, the more they respected the Brethren. "In a variety of publications," said the London Chronicle, "he removed every aspersion against the Brethren, and firmly established their reputation." He was well known in higher circles, was the friend of Dr. Johnson, and worked in union with such well-known Evangelical leaders as Rowland Hill, William Romaine, John Newton, Charles Wesley, Hannah More, Howell Harris, and Bishop Porteous, the famous advocate of negro emanc.i.p.ation. Above all, he cleansed the Brethren"s reputation from the last stains of the mud thrown by such men as Rimius and Frey. He was a friend of the Bishop of Chester; he was a popular preacher in Dissenting and Wesleyan Chapels; he addressed Howell Harris"s students at Trevecca; he explained the Brethren"s doctrines and customs to Lord Hillsborough, the First Commissioner of the Board of Trade and Plantations; and thus by his pen, by his wisdom and by his eloquence, he caused the Brethren to be honoured both by Anglicans and by Dissenters. At this period James Hutton--now a deaf old man--was a favourite at the Court of George III. No longer were the Brethren denounced as immoral fanatics; no longer did John Wesley feel it his duty to expose their errors. As John Wesley grew older and wiser, he began to think more kindly of the Brethren. He renewed his friendship with James Hutton, whom he had not seen for twenty-five years (Dec. 21, 1771); he visited Bishop John Gambold in London, and recorded the event in his Journal with the characteristic remark, "Who but Count Zinzendorf could have separated such friends as we are?" He called, along with his brother Charles, on John de Watteville at Lindsey House; and, above all, when Lord Lyttleton, in his book "Dialogues of the Dead," attacked the character of the Brethren, John Wesley himself spoke out n.o.bly in their defence. "Could his lordship," he wrote in his Journal (August 30th, 1770), "show me in England many more sensible men than Mr. Gambold and Mr. Okeley? And yet both of these were called Moravians...What sensible Moravian, Methodist or Hutchinsonian did he ever calmly converse with?
What does he know of them but from the caricatures drawn by Bishop Lavington or Bishop Warburton? And did he ever give himself the trouble of reading the answers to these warm, lively men? Why should a good-natured and a thinking man thus condemn whole bodies by the lump?"
But the pleasantest proof of Wesley"s good feeling was still to come.
At the age of eighty he went over to Holland, visited the Brethren"s beautiful settlement at Zeist, met there his old friend, Bishop Anthony Seifferth, and asked to hear some Moravian music and singing. The day was Wesley"s birthday. As it happened, however, to be "Children"s Prayer-Day" as well, the minister, being busy with many meetings, was not able to ask Wesley to dinner; and, therefore, he invited him instead to come to the children"s love-feast. John Wesley went to the chapel, took part in the love-feast, and heard the little children sing a "Birth-Day Ode" in his honour {June 28th, 1783.}. The old feud between Moravians and Methodists was over. It ended in the children"s song.[145]
One instance will show La Trobe"s reputation in England {1777.}. At that time there lived in London a famous preacher, Dr. Dodd; and now, to the horror of all pious people, Dr. Dodd was accused and convicted of embezzlement, and condemned to death. Never was London more excited.
A pet.i.tion with twenty-three thousand signatures was sent up in Dodd"s behalf. Frantic plots were made to rescue the criminal from prison. But Dodd, in his trouble, was in need of spiritual aid; and the two men for whom he sent were John Wesley and La Trobe. By Wesley he was visited thrice; by La Trobe, at his own request, repeatedly; and La Trobe was the one who brought comfort to his soul, stayed with him till the end, and afterwards wrote an official account of his death.
And yet, on the other hand, the policy now pursued by La Trobe was the very worst policy possible for the Moravians in England. For that policy, however, we must lay the blame, not on the man, but on the system under which he worked. As long as the Brethren"s Church in England was under the control of the U.E.C., it followed, as a matter of course, that German ideas would be enforced on British soil; and already, at the second General Synod, the Brethren had resolved that the British work must be conducted on German lines. Never did the Brethren make a greater blunder in tactics. In Germany the system had a measure of success, and has flourished till the present day; in England it was doomed to failure at the outset. La Trobe gave the system a beautiful name. He called it the system of "United Flocks." On paper it was lovely to behold; in practice it was the direct road to consumption. In name it was English enough; in nature it was Zinzendorf"s Diaspora. At no period had the Brethren a grander opportunity of extending their borders in England than during the last quarter of the eighteenth century.
In Yorkshire, with Fulneck as a centre, they had four flourishing congregations, societies in Bradford and Leeds, and preaching places as far away as Doncaster and Kirby Lonsdale, in Westmoreland. In Lancashire, with Fairfield as a centre, they were opening work in Manchester and Chowbent. In Cheshire, with Dukinfield as a centre, they had a number of societies on the "Cheshire Plan," including a rising cause at Bullock-Smithy, near Stockport. In the Midlands, with Ockbrook as a centre, they had preaching places in a dozen surrounding villages.
In Bedfordshire, with Bedford as a centre, they had societies at Riseley, Northampton, Eydon, Culworth and other places. In Wales, with Haverfordwest as a centre, they had societies at Laughharne, Fishguard, Carmarthen and Carnarvon. In Scotland, with Ayre[146] as a centre, they had societies at Irvine and Tarbolton, and preaching-places at Annan, Blackhall, Dumfries, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Kilsyth, Kilmarnock, Ladyburn, Prestwick, Westtown, and twenty smaller places. In the West of England, with Bristol and Tytherton as centres, they had preaching-places at Apperley, in Gloucestershire; Fome and Bideford, in Somerset; Plymouth and Exeter, in Devon; and many villages in Wiitshire. In the North of Ireland, with Gracehill as a centre, they had preaching-places at Drumargan, Billies, Arva (Cavan), and many other places.
For the Brethren, therefore, the critical question was, what to do with the societies and preaching-places? There lay the secret of success or failure; and there they committed their great strategic blunder. They had two alternatives before them. The one was to treat each society or preaching-place as the nucleus of a future congregation; the other was to keep it as a mere society. And the Brethren, in obedience to orders from Germany, chose the latter course. At the Moravian congregations proper the strictest rules were enforced; in most congregations there were Brethren"s and Sisters" Houses; and all full members of the Moravian Church had to sign a doc.u.ment known as the "Brotherly Agreement." {1771.} In that doc.u.ment the Brethren gave some remarkable pledges. They swore fidelity to the Augsburg Confession. They promised to do all in their power to help the Anglican Church, and to encourage all her members to be loyal to her. They declared that they would never proselytize from any other denomination. They promised that no marriage should take place without the consent of the Elders; that all children must be educated in one of the Brethren"s schools; that they would help to support the widows, old people and orphans; that no member should set up in business without the consent of the Elders; that they would never read any books of a harmful nature. At each congregation these rules--and others too many to mention here--were read in public once a year; each member had a printed copy, and any member who broke the "Agreement" was liable to be expelled. Thus the English Brethren signed their names to an "Agreement" made in Germany, and expressing German ideals of religious life. If it never became very popular, we need not wonder. But this "Agreement" was not binding on the societies and preaching-places. As the Brethren in Germany founded societies without turning them into settlements, so the Brethren in England conducted preaching-places without turning them into congregations and without asking their hearers to become members of the Moravian Church; and a strict rule was laid down that only such hearers as had a "distinct call to the Brethren"s Church" should be allowed to join it. The distinct call came through the Lot. At nearly all the societies and preaching-places, therefore, the bulk of the members were flatly refused admission to the Moravian Church; they remained, for the most part, members of the Church of England; and once a quarter, with a Moravian minister at their head, they marched in procession to the Communion in the parish church. For unselfishness this policy was unmatched; but it nearly ruined the Moravian Church in England. At three places--Woodford,[147] Baildon and Devonport--the Brethren turned societies into congregations; but most of the others were sooner or later abandoned. In Yorkshire the Brethren closed their chapel at Pudsey, and abandoned their societies at Holbeck, Halifax, Wibsey and Doncaster. At Manchester they gave up their chapel in Fetter Lane.
In Cheshire they retreated from Bullock Smithy; in the Midlands from Northampton; in London from Chelsea; in Somerset from Bideford and Frome; in Devon from Exeter and Plymouth; in Gloucestershire from Apperley; in Scotland from Irvine, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dumfries and thirty or forty other places;[148] in Wales from Fishguard, Laugharn, Carmarthen and Carnarvon; in Ireland from Arva, Billies, Drumargan, Ballymena, Gloonen, Antrim, Dromore, Crosshill, Artrea, Armagh, and so on. And the net result of this policy was that when Bishop Holmes, the Brethren"s Historian, published his "History of the Brethren" (1825), he had to record the distressing fact that in England the Moravians had only twenty congregations, in Ireland only six, and that the total number of members was only four thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven.
The question is sometimes asked to-day: How is it that the Moravian Church is so small? For that smallness more reasons than one may be given; but one reason was certainly the singular policy expounded in the present chapter.[149]
CHAPTER V. -- THE BRITISH ADVANCE, 1801-1856.
But our problem is not yet solved. As soon as the nineteenth century opened, the Brethren began to look forward with hope to the future; and their leading preachers still believed in the divine and holy calling of the Moravian Church. Of those preachers the most famous was Christian Frederick Ramftler. He was a typical Moravian minister. He was a type in his character, in his doctrine, and in his fortunes. He came of an old Moravian family, and had martyr"s blood in his veins. He was born at the Moravian settlement at Barby (1780). At the age of six he attended a Good Friday service, and was deeply impressed by the words, "He bowed his head and gave up the ghost"; and although he could never name the date of his conversion, he was able to say that his religion was based on the love of Christ and on the obligation to love Christ in return.
At the age of seven he was sent to the Moravian school at Kleinwelke; he then entered the Paedagogium at Barby, and completed his education by studying theology at Niesky. At that place he was so anxious to preach the Gospel that, as he had no opportunity of preaching in the congregation, he determined to preach to the neighbouring Wends; and, as he knew not a word of their language, he borrowed one of their minister"s sermons, learned it by heart, ascended the pulpit, and delivered the discourse with such telling energy that the delighted people exclaimed: "Oh, that this young man might always preach to us instead of our sleepy parson." For that freak he was gravely rebuked by the U.E.C., and he behaved with more discretion in the future. For two years he served the Church as a schoolmaster, first at Neusalz-on-the-Oder, and then at Uhyst; and then, to his surprise, he received a call to England. For the moment he was staggered. He consulted the Lot; the Lot gave consent; and, therefore, to England he came. For six years he now served as master in the Brethren"s boarding-school at Fairfield; and then, in due course, he was called as minister to the Brethren"s congregation at Bedford. As soon, however, as he accepted the call, he was informed that he would have to marry; his wife was found for him by the Church; the marriage turned out a happy one; and thus, with her as an official helpmate, he commenced his ministerial career (1810). At Bedford he joined with other ministers--such as Legh Richmond and S. Hillyard--in founding Bible a.s.sociations. At Fulneck--where he was stationed twelve years--he was so beloved by his congregation that one member actually said: "During seven years your name has not once been omitted in our family prayers." At Bristol he was noted for his missionary zeal, took an interest in the conversion of the Jews, and often spoke at public meetings on behalf of the Church Missionary Society; and in one year he travelled a thousand miles on behalf of the "London a.s.sociation in aid of Moravian Missions."
In manner he was rough and abrupt; at heart he was gentle as a woman.
He was a strict disciplinarian, a keen questioner, and an unflinching demander of a Christian walk. Not one jot or t.i.ttle would he allow his people to yield to the loose ways of the world. In his sermons he dealt hard blows at cant; and in his private conversation he generally managed to put his finger upon the sore spot. One day a collier came to see him, and complained, in a rather whining tone, that the path of his life was dark.
"H"m," growled Ramftler, who hated sniffling, "is it darker than it was in the coal-pit?"
The words proved the collier"s salvation.
In all his habits Ramftler was strictly methodical. He always rose before six; he always finished his writing by eleven; and he kept a list of the texts from which he preached. As that list has been preserved, we are able to form some notion of his style; and the chief point to notice is that his preaching was almost entirely from the New Testament.
At times, of course, he gave his people systematic lectures on the Patriarchs, the Prophets and the Psalms; but, speaking, broadly, his favourite topic was the Pa.s.sion History. Above all, like most Moravian ministers, he was an adept in dealing with children. At the close of the Sunday morning service, he came down from the pulpit, took his seat at the Communion table, put the children through their catechism, and then asked all who wished to be Christians to come and take his hand.
At length, towards the close of his life, he was able to take some part in pioneer work. Among his numerous friends at Bristol was a certain Louis West.
"Have you never thought," said Ramftler, "of becoming a preacher of the Gospel?"
"I believe," replied West, "I shall die a Moravian minister yet."
"Die as a minister!" snapped Ramftler. "You ought to live as one!"
The words soon came true. In response to an invitation from some pious people, Ramftler paid a visit to Brockweir, a little village on the Wye, a few miles above Tintern. The village was a h.e.l.l on earth. It was without a church, and possessed seven public-houses. There was a field of labour for the Brethren. As soon as Ramftler could collect the money, he had a small church erected, laid the corner-stone himself, and had the pleasure of seeing West the first minister of the new congregation.
And like Ramftler was many another of kindred blood. At Wyke, John Steinhauer (1773-76), the children"s friend, had a printing press, wherewith he printed hymns and pa.s.sages of Scripture in days when children"s books were almost unknown. At Fulneck the famous teacher, Job Bradley, served for forty-five years (1765-1810), devoted his life to the spiritual good of boys, and summed up the pa.s.sion of his life in the words he was often heard to sing:--
Saviour, Saviour, love the children; Children, children, love the Saviour.
At Kimbolton, Bishop John King Martyn founded a new congregation. At Kilwarlin, Basil Patras Zula revived a flagging cause. If the Moravian Church was small in England, it was not because her ministers were idle, or because they were lacking in moral and spiritual power.