by Rev. Dr John Kennedy
I make no attempt to trace, to its source, the influence exerted in producing the marked effects resulting from the present religious movement. I confine my attention to the advantage, afforded by the state of feeling, which preceded that movement, and to certain elements of power in the means employed to advance it.
It was preceded by a very prevalent desire for a change. All classes of religious society seemed to be stirred by a wistful longing for something to break up the dead monotony, of which all were wearying. Some were actuated by genuine spiritual feeling. They felt that tokens of the Lord’s absence abounded; and turning to the Lord they cried for the manifestation of His power and glory. Others, strangers to stated spiritual enjoyment in the means of grace, were longing for some change — some excitement to lift them out of their dullness — and for some bustle in which they might take their share of service. Others, still, who knew no happiness in the house of God, and had no desire for His presence, would fain that something new were introduced into the mode of service which they felt so jading. The excitement of a revival would be to them a relief. “Special services” they strongly craved. Prayer for a revival was called for; and many were ready to take part in the meetings convened for that purpose. These meetings resulted in the hope of an answer. Though but few truly appreciated what was needed, and really dealt with God, we cannot but hope that something was done by the Lord in answer to their cry. But many there were who merely craved a change, — something to relieve them of the tedium of a routine, in which they found no enjoyment, because they were estranged from God, — and who joined, in asking this, with those who were asking something better. These were the persons disposed to make much of their prayers, and who found it easy to hope just because they had chosen to ask; and they may have received, though not in mercy, what they sought. The expectation of a change, at any rate, was general. There was an opening up of men’s minds to an expected influence. This tended to affect even the Gallios who “cared for none of those things.” A revival was talked of, prayed for, and expected, and thus a general susceptibility of impression was produced. Prayer meetings, fostering the desire and expectation of a change, were in all places the pioneers of the movement. Those who heard that a revival had taken place elsewhere, sought that it might reach their own locality.
Many blindly asked for what was done in other places, instead of seeking the fulfilment of the Lord’s promise.
In course of time, musical practisings were added to prayer meetings, as preparation for a revival! From both the addresses and the music much was expected, when evangelistic deputies arrived.
What the effect would have been, had the awakened expectancy been left to be operated on by the stated ministrations of the sanctuary, or by extraordinary efforts, that introduced no departure from the usual mode of worship, no one can tell; but I cannot refrain from expressing my persuasion, that the result would have been a healthier one than that which new appliances developed.
But on this wakeful state of mind was brought to bear a system of doctrine, that ignored those aspects of the truth, which are most offensive to “the natural man,” and that, while offering something that seemed plausible to an unenlightened conscience, seemed to conserve the old heart’s imagined independence of the sovereign and almighty grace of God, and by ignoring repentance preserved to it its idols. The gospel, modified to suit the taste of unrenewed men, was welcome. The recommendations of it, given by men of influence, tended to put down suspicion, and to induce the public to receive it as “the gospel of the grace of God.” The new style of teaching made it seem such an easy thing to be a Christian. To find oneself easily persuaded to believe what was presented as the gospel, and to think that by this faith salvation was secured, and that all cause of anxiety was for ever gone, gave a new and pleasing sensation, which thousands were willing to share.
And once the movement had begun it could command an indefinite supply of agents. All who say they were converted are set to work. Any one, who can tongue it deftly, can take a part, — he requires neither knowledge nor experience. The excitement is kept up by the bustle of public service. No fear is felt in lifting up novices “lest they fall into the condemnation of the devil.” That feeling may have been suitable in Paul’s day, but it has now ceased to be so regarded. But there is a fear of converts ceasing to seem to be so, if they are not kept busy in religious service. A proselytising bustle must therefore be the outcome of their faith. There is an utter avoidance of testing work on the part of their instructors; but attesting work enough is done. They have at once been proclaimed Christians in their own hearing, and in the presence of thousands; and those, who presume to tell them this, are quite ready to join with themselves in thinking that they are fit for any service that they may choose to try. A season apart, to be alone with God, a solemn time
for careful counting of the cost, has from Christ the double recommendation of His example and of His precept, but is desired neither by nor for these so-called converts.
To these advantages for effect were added various devices, which, though quite unscriptural, or rather, because they were so, were fraught with impressing power.