Apostasy and Tears

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 17, 1859

Apostasy and Tears.

THE Rev. Andrew Fuller, who died in England in 1815, is better known by his writings than his preaching, and yet that preaching was always scriptural, judicious, and on some occasions pathetic and solemn beyond description. A minister in whom he had once placed entire confidence, and with whom he had for a long series of years been very intimate, fell into awful public sin and threw a blasting mildew over religion throughout an extensive community. In the very midst of the intense excitement created by the sad event, came the season for a public meeting of ministers annually held in connection with that church. Some of the neighbouring clergymen proposed the omission of the services on account of the state of the public mind, but to this arrangement Mr. Fuller very decidedly objected.

The usual session was held, and Mr. Fuller himself was appointed to preach. A vast crowd assembled, expecting of course some allusion to his former friend; nor were they disappointed. The sermon was on the sins of professors of religion—their frequency, causes, and awful results. His feelings throughout were very tender, and many of his hearers, both clergy and laity, were during most of the sermon in tears. He, however, restrained his emotions within bounds till he approached the close of the sermon. Then addressing the unconverted part of his audience, he besought them not to become hardened in their guilt, or neglect the salvation of their souls, because some who had borne "the vessels of the Lord" had sinned. "I need not," he added with great tenderness of spirit, "make a more distinct reference; but Oh, remember, that if I, and these my brethren in the ministry, and every other professing Christian in the world, were to make ship-wreck of faith and character, and to fall into crime like poor—, religion would be still the same grand system of truth and morality, and you would be eternally lost if you rejected it. The Lord Jesus Christ is the standard of character, and not poor sinners like us."

The preacher for some time stood without a word, for he was unable to utter one; sighs and even sobs mingled with the tears of the whole congregation for several minutes. Many years after these solemn events had occurred, I visited the town, and was impressed with two facts: one was, that none who were present could, even so long afterwards, speak of that meeting without deep emotion; the other was, that none, even of those who professed infidelity, were afterwards in that community heard to throw the blame of sin on the religion of Christ. "I was there," said a gentleman to me, "and though I do not profess to be a Christian, I never before so strongly felt that the religion of the Bible is a grand reality."

J. B.