THE name "Protestant" comes from a famous protest against an edict of the Emperor Charles V., issued at the Diet of Speier in 1529. It was in the early days of the Reformation initiated by Luther. Charles was not sympathetic with the reformers, and sought to hinder their work by forbidding the introduction of reformation principles into States that had not as yet accepted them. A strong protest, signed by representatives of several cities, was entered against this decree, and those making the protest became distinguished by the name "Protestants." The name has since been used in a much wider sense, embracing all who protest against the principles and aims of Roman Catholicism.

      It is sometimes urged today that since the liberties that Protestants sought to win have been secured, there is no further need of an organised Protestantism. In some quarters there is objection to the use of the name. But while the Church of Rome is a militant force in our midst, while she cherishes her old political ambition, while she asserts, as she does, that "free inquiry, individual preference, liberty of mind, freedom of thought, private judgment in the domain of faith are words that she has no ears to hear," there is need for the protest, and there is use for that splendid virile word, "Protestant."

      Let it be understood, however, that the name denotes constructive propagandism--to use a word which our Roman Catholic friends have given us--and not destructive criticism. We must review some of the cardinal doctrines of Romanism, but it is in order that we may intelligently appreciate, by way of contrast, those things which are most surely believed among us. We shall, as Othello says,

      D'Aubigne, in his "History of the Reformation," makes an illuminating contrast between Christianity and the ancient religions. Two great principles characterise almost all human religions. They are:

      1. A separate priesthood, which claims to be sanctified, privileged, superior, holding in its hands the way of access to the gods;

      2. The doctrine of salvation by works--that men must labor and pray, sacrifice and suffer, at the discretion of the priests, to secure peace of mind and the favor of the gods.

      The Gospel of the Lord Jesus laid the axe at the root of these principles. Christianity established a universal priesthood. All Christians are priests (1 Peter 2:5, 9; Rev. 1:6; 5:10). There is one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus. We

need not the mediation of any of our fellows. We have direct access to God through Christ.

      Furthermore, the Gospel proclaims salvation as the free gift of God, which we receive through faith and not by works (Gal. 3:21-27; Rom. 4: 4, 5). True, the obedience of faith calls for surrender and service, but the ground of our redemption is the sacrifice of Christ.

      The great apostacy, predicted by Paul, was largely a return to, these principles of heathenism, with the development in the church of their accompanying evils. We shall briefly note how this took place.

      In the early churches officers were appointed to attend to the affairs of the congregation--elders (variously styled elders, overseers, bishops, pastors or shepherds), whose duty it was to exercise spiritual oversight; and deacons, who attended to the secular affairs of the church.

      In the Greek New Testament, the regular word for elder is presbyteros, translated "elder" in 1 Tim. 5:1, Titus 1:5, and in scores of other passages. There was equality among these officers--they were fellow-elders (1 Pet. 5:1, R.V.). The word for bishop is episkopos, which is always translated "bishop," except in Acts 20:28, where the translation is "overseer." A comparison of Titus 1:5, 7, and Acts 20:17, 28, shows that the terms elder and bishop are used interchangeably, and refer to the same officer. Titus 1:5 and Phil. 1:1 indicate a plurality of elders or bishops in every church.

      Soon after the time of the apostles, there began to develop the, system of episcopacy, which recognised a distinction in the eldership and made a bishop superior to a presbyter or elder. One bishop was given a kind of primacy over his fellows-bishops, and for purposes of distinction he was called "the bishop," and the other titles, which in the New Testament are equivalent to bishop, were then used to indicate an inferior rank.

      Presently, by a natural process, the "bishop" in a central and prominent church became recognised as an authority in surrounding churches. Thus the bishops in Jerusalem, Antioch, Alexandria, Constantinople and Rome occupied honorable positions among the churches of the great districts of which each was the metropolis.

      In the course of time, it came about that Rome demanded and received chief place, and the Bishop of Rome assumed jurisdiction and control as universal bishop and head of the church. He became distinguished by the title "Pope" (Latin, papa, father), a title which earlier was the designation of all bishops, but which gradually became restricted in its use, until Pope Hildebrand, in 1013--in a Council in Rome, decreed that there should be but one Pope in all the world.

      With the development of the hierarchy came also the sacerdotal idea. A distinction was made between priests and laity. The priests attended to divine things, and the people could not approach God and had no rights in the church, except through the priests.

      The whole process opened the way for violent abuses. The simplicity of the early church was lost. She became a vast ecclesiastical and political institution. There was often a scandalous struggle for ecclesiastical dignities, and the gifts of God were supposed to be purchasable with money.

      The development so briefly traced was in many ways a natural one. The leaders were not necessarily bad men. Many of them we honor to-day for their Christian character, and their gifts of leadership. They often manifested intrepid courage, and a splendid regard for duty. But they were swept on by the vast machine of which they were a part, and became partakers in the general spiritual ruin.

      As an inevitable result of this course of events another thing happened. The glad message of salvation through Christ, first proclaimed on Pentecost (Acts 2), was soon ringing over mountain and valley and sea, in all directions. While Paul was yet alive, the gospel was preached in the whole creation under heaven, and bore fruit in all the earth (Col. 1:6, 23). But ere long the freshness and beauty of the good news was destroyed. The free gift of God was rejected. The energy of the church, which had reached out to save, began to turn inward. It was as though the sacrifice of Christ had been found in some way deficient. If there were priests, there was need of sacrifice and sin offering. Devout men sought to render some satisfaction to the Lord for their sin. The ascetic idea grew. Thousands upon thousands entered upon the hermit life, renouncing friends, goods, everything that the world holds dear. The movement was little less rapid than the spread of Christianity itself. This was the attempt to merit salvation through the subjugation of the flesh and the performance of' good works. The ascetic epidemic affords one of the strangest and most painful subjects of study in all the moral history of mankind. The object was good, but the idea was quite wrong--for it was the result of ignorance of the Bible doctrine of the Atonement of Christ--and the result was terrible.

      The two principles of a special priesthood and salvation by works are fundamental in the Roman Catholic system. Out of them comes practically the whole of the peculiar and erroneous doctrines of Romanism. The idea of a priestly caste, for instance, has been responsible for the Confessional, Absolution, and the Roman Catholic attitude towards the Bible; the doctrine of salvation by works has resulted in the idea of works of Supererogation, Indulgences and Purgatory. Let us note clearly:

      1. That Christ is the Head of his church (Ephes. 1:22, 23; 5:23; Col. 1:18).

      2. That all Christians are priests--God's clergy are God's laity (1 Peter 2:5; Rev. 1:6).

      3. That by one offering Christ has perfected for ever those who are sanctified (Heb. 10:10-14).

      "PROTESTANTS recognise the Bible as full and sufficient authority for the Christian in all matters of faith and conduct.

      Roman Catholics hold that the living Church--the Church of Rome--and not the Word of God, is the seat of authority in religion.

      To the books of the Bible, as we have them, the Roman Catholics add the apocryphal books, which they regard as equally canonical. They also add the unwritten traditions of the church, which are supposed to be equal in value and authority to the, written Word.

      Thus, the Council of Trent (1545-1563), whose decisions all Roman Catholics regard as sacred, decreed: "They (traditions) have come down to us, either received from the apostles from the lips of Christ himself, or transmitted by the hands of the same apostles, under the direction of the Holy Spirit; that these traditions relate both to faith and morals, have been preserved in the Catholic Church by continual succession, are to be received with equal piety and veneration with Scripture, and whosoever shall knowingly and deliberately despise these traditions is accursed."

      Protestants insist that when reading the Scriptures, the believer has absolute right of interpretation. No church or priest can deprive him of his privilege, nor accept his responsibility, of reading the Word and of learning the will of God.

      Roman Catholics assert that in the interpretation of Scripture, no man has a right to judge for himself as to what the Bible teaches. All believers must accept the church's interpretation.

      The Council of Trent declared: "In order to restrain petulant minds, the Council further decrees that in matters of faith and morals, and whatever relates to the maintenance of Christian doctrine, no one, confiding in his own judgment, shall dare to wrest the sacred Scriptures to his own sense of them, contrary to that which hath been held, and still is held, by the Holy Mother Church, whose right it is to judge of the true meaning and, interpretation of sacred writ, or contrary to the unanimous consent of the fathers, even though such interpretation should never be published."

      The Douay Bible is the English translation of the Latin Vulgate. It is translated and prepared by Roman Catholic editors. It is abundantly supplied with foot-notes to enable the reader to know what the Holy Mother Church declares the Bible teaches. To our private, and of course, "accursed" judgment, this teaching sometimes seems

foreign to the plain meaning of the words of the New Testament, and sometimes quite opposed thereto. Thus a foot-note on Matthew 16:18 points out that the meaning is that Peter should be chief pastor, ruler, and governor of the church--a meaning which, apart from the teaching of the church, we might never suspect was there. On the same page is an example of what looks very like a direct perversion of the plain meaning of Scripture. Jesus said to Peter (verse 23), "Get thee behind me, Satan" (using the precise expression that is used to Satan himself in Luke 4:8). Since this verse creates an awkward sequel to the church's interpretation of verse 18, it is softened in the translation to "do behind me, satan" (with small "s"). A foot-note explains "These words may signify, begone from me; but the holy fathers expound them otherwise, that is, Come after me, follow me, and by these words, our Lord would have Peter follow him in his suffering, and not oppose the divine will by contradiction; for the word "satan" means in Hebrew an adversary, or one that opposes." The Master's meaning is clear enough, but "the holy fathers expound them otherwise," and against that exposition the plain meaning of the words is as nothing.

      Bishop Milner, in his "End of Controversy," says:--"The whole business of the Scriptures belongs to the Church; she has preserved them; she vouches for them, and she alone by confronting the several passages with each other and by the help of tradition, authoritatively explains them. Hence it is impossible that the real sense of Scripture should ever be against her or her doctrine."

      Romanism has always been afraid of this book she claims to have preserved. The Index-Prohibitorius--which is a catalogue of authors and works wholly condemned by the Church of Rome, has this to say of the Bible:--"Inasmuch as it is manifest from experience, that if the Holy Bible, translated, into the vulgar tongue, be indiscriminately allowed to every one, the temerity of men will cause more evil than good to arise from it, it is, on this point, referred to the judgment of the bishop or inquisitors, who may, by the advice of the priests or confessor, permit the reading of the Bible translated into the vulgar tongue by Catholic authors to those persons whose faith and piety they apprehend will be augmented, and not injured, by it; and this permission they must have in writing."

      The cause of the Church's fear of the Bible is apparent. The entrance of the Word gives light, and the light is of so revealing a character that the false claims of the Church are exposed, and her assumed authority is shown in all its naked presumption. Hence she has always sought to withhold the book from the people. By use of fire and sword she has marked her displeasure of those who persisted in making known the Word of God. John Huss, the Bohemian martyr, when at the stake, prayed, "Lord Jesus Christ, stand now by me, that by thine help I may endure with manful, steadfast soul this cruel and shameful death to which I am condemned--because I preached thy Word," and he was but one of the great host that Rome has done to death for proclaiming the message of the Word of God.

      "The Bible, the only rule of faith and practice," was one of the basic principles of the Reformation, When Luther was called upon to retract before the Emperor the things he had written against the Church of Rome, he undertook to do so if convinced "through proofs from the Holy Scriptures" that he was wrong. A biographer says of him: "Whatever the Scriptures did not contain, he disapproved. He adhered to that only which he believed he had found in the Bible." We know that he did not always succeed in applying that principle--how could he? He was a lone figure, emerging from the gloom with which the Papacy had shrouded the world. We cannot demand in him that which we ourselves find it hard to give after centuries of reformation progress.

      When the Puritans began to draw aside from the court party in England, the ground of the separation was an increasing insistence upon the authority of the Scriptures in all matters--not only in doctrine, but in matters of church government and discipline as well.

      The Presbyterians, in their denial of the superiority assumed by the English bishops over the elders, and in their assertion that bishops and elders were of the same order and on the same level in rank and authority, were undoubtedly in accord with the Scriptures. The episcopacy depends upon the authority of the church, and not of the Bible.

      Each step in the programme of the Reformation came as the result of fresh discoveries in the teaching of the Word of God. Each band of reformers discovered some new aspect of truth, and brought it from the shelves where it had lain, dust-covered, for centuries. Presently came the Congregationalists or Independents, demanding that, according to the Scriptures, a congregation of Christians should be independent alike of supreme bishop and of governing body of presbyters, and be responsible only to Christ, the Head of the Church, as he has revealed himself in his Word.

      Another body of Christians whose origin belongs to the early Reformation period is the Baptist Church. A historian describes the Baptists as "a denomination of Christians characterised by the maintenance of the notion that immersion is the only authorised and scriptural mode of baptism, and that baptism can only be lawfully administered to those who make a personal profession of their faith, and thus, that infant baptism is contrary to the Word of God."

      While few Baptists will define the characteristics of their body in such limited terms, the statement is at least fair to the name worn by these distinguished people, and it serves to illustrate the fact which all Baptists freely assert, that they with all Protestants stand for the supreme authority of the Word of God in all matters of faith and practice.

      It is but natural that Protestants, as they escaped from the intolerance of Rome, feeling so keenly the value of the liberties they had gained, and dreading at the same time the possibility of losing them again, should themselves become intolerant, and find

extreme difficulty in living up to their ideals. The individual right of interpretation has been a grand reality, otherwise the work of the Reformation would not have been accomplished. But all too often Protestants have refused to grant to others the liberty they claimed for themselves, and bitterness and division, which have retarded the work of God, have been the result.

      Mr. Hallam, in his "Introduction to the Literature of Europe," says that a constant reproach cast by the Church of Rome upon those who left her is that when they had stimulated the ignorant to reject the authority of the church, they instantly withdrew liberty of judgment, and punished even with death, those who presumed to swerve from the new lines they had drawn.

      Another well known authority says: "Protestantism owns two fundamental principles--that the Bible contains the sole rule of faith, and that it is the right of everyone, without respect of person, to judge of that rule by all the aids which divine grace, reason, and conscience can inspire. At the same time it may be noticed that, generally, in practice, each church possesses certain standards of belief to which it is expected its members will adhere."

      The moment any party or church tries, by force or anathema, to impose its interpretation of the Bible upon believers, that moment it surrenders one of the vital principles of Protestantism, and goes back to the pit from which it was digged. It is just what the Roman Catholic believes and practices. It was against this that Huss and Luther and Zwingli and all the reformers fought with all their might. It was a protest against such intolerance, as we saw in our first chapter, that gave birth to Protestantism. Let us be true to the genius of our great cause.

      THE Fourth Lateran Council decreed "That every man and woman, after they come to years of discretion, shall privately confess their sins to their own priest at least once a year, and endeavor faithfully to perform the penance enjoined on them . . . and whoever does not perform this is to be excommunicated from the Church; and if he die he is to be refused Christian burial."

      The priest to whom confession is made has the power, it is believed by our Roman Catholic friends, to grant absolution or freedom from sin.

      The right and the power thus claimed by the priesthood rest upon one of the fundamental principles of Roman Catholicism, in which it differs essentially from Protestantism--that priests are a separate and holy class, through whom the grace of God and forgiveness are administered, and apart from whom there can be no approach to God.

      The Protestant view, and, as we believe, the teaching of the Word of God, is that all Christians are priests, and that if any one sin he has an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, who is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world (1 John 2:1, 2).

      The Douay Testament--the translation used by the Roman Catholics--has a number of curious renderings of texts that concern the vital dogmas of the Church, and still more curious footnotes, which are designed to help the reader to see things which he never would see from a simple reading even of their own translation.

      All of the passages in our New Testament which contain the word "repentance" are altered to suit the dogmas of the church. Thus Matthew 3:2 reads: "Do penance, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." On this passage a footnote reads: "Do penance. Pœnitentiam agite (Lat.); Metanoeite (Gk.). Which word, according to the use of the Scriptures, and the holy fathers, does not only signify repentance and amendment of life, but also punishing of past sins by fasting, and such like penitential exercises." This interpretation makes penance an imperative command.

      The doctrine of penance as laid down in the canons of the Council of Trent, consists of three parts: contrition, confession and satisfaction. There must be genuine sorrow for sin, confession of the sin to a priest, followed by the bearing of some penalty, as fasting, prayers, alms, or other works of piety, imposed by the priest.

      When a penitent desires to make confession, he draws near to his priest, who is seated in a closed recess called the Confessional, and who is believed to have the dread power of binding his sins upon him, or of absolving him from guilt. The penitent kneels, makes the sign of the cross, raises his hands to heaven in supplication, but casts his eyes to the ground in contrition, and prays for the blessing of the priest: "Pray, Father, give me thy blessing, for I have sinned." Having received the blessing, he proceeds in these words:-"I confess to Almighty God, to the blessed Virgin Mary, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the saints, and to you, Father, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word and deed, through my fault, through my most grievous fault."

      Then follows an enumeration of all the sins that have been committed. Should the penitent be disposed through fear, or shame, or delicacy, to withhold the secrets of the heart, the priest is instructed, by means of dexterous questions, to probe to the very depths, until the soul is laid bare before him.

      When the confession is ended, the penitent concludes with some prescribed form of words, and awaits penance and absolution.

      Have our Roman Catholic friends any scriptural authority for so momentous an act? They point to such authority, but it is of the most meagre kind. The solitary text is James 5:16: "Confess therefore your sins one to another." The footnote in the Douay Testament explains: "Confess," that is to the priests of the Church, whom, verse 14, he had ordered to be called for and brought in to the sick; moreover to confess to persons who have no power to forgive sins would be useless. Hence this precept here means that we must confess to men whom God hath appointed, and who, by their ordination and jurisdiction, have received the power of remitting sins in his name." It will be seen at once that all the authority is in the footnote, and that auricular confession is a dogma of the church, not a doctrine of the Word of God.

      We have, then, two powerful reasons for protesting against the use of the Confessional--it is unscriptural, and it is based upon an erroneous idea of the priesthood.

      That which is born in error comes to its maturity in sin. Reluctantly we are compelled to say that the Confessional has been a source of immeasurable corruption for both confessor and penitent.

      It corrupts the confessor. The training the priest receives to enable him to take the confession of men and women, is such that moral taint is practically unavoidable. The foundation of that training is certain works of Liguori, who gives instructions regarding the hearing of confessions, and the questions that must be asked by the priest. Some of these instructions are of such a nature that they may not be rendered into English. Every attempt to give this work to the public in England, says Alexander Robertson, in "The Roman Catholic Church in Italy," has been followed by prosecution. An Italian paper in 1901 offered one thousand francs to any Roman Catholic paper which would publish the Latin text

with an Italian translation, of certain specified portions of these works. The challenge was never accepted. The blunting of the moral sense which follows training in works of this kind, and which accompanies the practice of the Confessional, provides some of the most tragic stories of history.

      It corrupts the penitent. Pitiful stories are told of the effects of the Confessional, especially upon girls and women, as the ruthless confessor, true to his instructions, invades the most sacred privacies of the heart, and demands an expression of things of which it is a shame even to speak. The Confessional is an open door to debauchery, which has been entered all too often.

      We are glad to say that there have been many noble souls who have recognised the danger of auricular confession, and have sought to avoid it. Archbishop Reynolds, in 1322, says in his Constitution, "Let the priest choose for himself a common place for hearing confessions, where he may be seen generally by all the Church, and do not let him hear anyone, and especially a woman, in a private place, except in great necessity."

      We can readily see that in some instances, the confessional may have saved sinners from an evil way upon which they had entered. A good priest would thus find many an opportunity of giving warning against the dangers besetting those who came for counsel. But when we have said all that we can of good concerning it, we are constrained to say that the confessional has proved an almost diabolically ingenious method of putting temptation in the way of frail men.

      If a priest is satisfied with the confession of the penitent, be solemnly pronounces absolution in these words:--"I absolve thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."

      Down to the thirteenth century, absolution was simply a petition for pardon for the penitent. When the view gained ground that God forgives through the priest, the direct form "I absolve thee" was adopted.

      An attempt is made to find scriptural authority for priestly absolution, and the chief reliance is placed upon the words of the Saviour to his disciples, as recorded in John 20:22, 23. Quoting again from the Douay Testament, and the inevitable footnote, we have, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven them, and whose sins ye shall retain, they are retained . . . See here the commission, stamped by the broad seal of heaven, by virtue of which the pastors of Christ's Church absolve repenting sinners upon their confession."

      With regard to this text, we may note that the apostles, to whom the words were spoken, do not seem to have understood from them what our Roman Catholic friends claim, for they never absolved sins in that way. What they did do when they received the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:1-4) was to preach salvation through Christ, and to state the conditions under which it could be appropriated (Acts 2:36-38). When a believer sinned, he was counselled

to repent of his wickedness, and to pray to God that the sin might be forgiven (Acts 8:22). Their procedure under such circumstances is the best commentary upon what Christ said in John 20:22, 23.

      We may also note that the application of those words to modern priests of the church assumes the whole question of apostolic succession, which is a thing to be proved.

      Closely connected with absolution is the practice of granting indulgences. In the thirteenth century, the doctrine of supererogation was proclaimed by a number of church leaders, among whom was the celebrated Aquinas. Based upon the idea of salvation by works, the doctrine is that a person may perform more good works than is required for his own salvation. Many saints in all ages have done this, and this "super-abundant merit"--these good deeds over and above what was required for one's own salvation-the church has laid up in store, to be applied towards the salvation of those who have little or no merit of their own. These benefits might extend even to purgatory, and the merit of one saint might ease the purgatorial pains of another.

      The application, for the benefit of those who need them, of these "satisfactions" which are contained in the treasury of the church, is what is meant by the term "Indulgence." It is only fair to emphasise the fact that to the Roman Catholic the granting of indulgences does not mean the selling for money of the privilege to sin. This somewhat popular notion concerning indulgences owes its origin especially to the famous mission of the monk Tetzel into Germany, which was the occasion of the work of reformation initiated by Luther.

      In 1517 a new cathedral was being built in Rome. It was to be a structure of unusual magnificence, and money was urgently needed to carry on the work. The Pope, Leo X., resorted to the sale of indulgences to secure the necessary funds. The work of raising the money in Germany was entrusted to a Dominican monk named John Tetzel. A tariff was fixed, and the indulgences for various sins could be bought at the stipulated price. The right of murdering an enemy was sold for seven ducats, but the privilege of murdering a father or mother or near relative cost only four ducats. Robbing a church, however, was a more serious sin, and the pardon cost nine ducats. Agents were sent out to proclaim the excellence of these indulgences. Some of the proclamations are quoted by Lindsay in his work on the Reformation. "The pardon makes those who buy it cleaner than baptism, purer even than Adam in a state of innocence in Paradise." "As soon as the money chinks in the bottom of the strong box, the buyer is pardoned, and is free from all sin."

      This outrageous procedure, of course, resulted in a great increase of crime and general wickedness wherever the seller of indulgences, went. It was this traffic in sin which stirred the soul of Luther, and moved him to write his famous theses against indulgences, the

posting of which on the door of the Church in Wittenberg in 1517 is generally regarded as the beginning of the Reformation.

      We gladly admit that Leo's method of raising money was a rank abuse of the Roman Catholic Church's assumed power to grant indulgences. Other popes have abused the system in the same way, and clerical grafters still abuse it, but it is pleasing to note that the Council of Trent in 1545, while retaining the use of indulgences in the church, decreed that "all wicked gains accruing from them shall be wholly abolished." However, the granting of indulgences, under certain specified conditions (as that the recipient must have been to confession, and be in a "state of grace"), comes down to our own day, and the erroneous teaching involved with regard to the value of works such as almsgiving, fasting, and the mortification of the flesh, m grounds of salvation, is still maintained.

      It is refreshing to turn to the Word of God, and to study what it has to say concerning confession and forgiveness. The word "confession" is used in a double sense.

      1. It stands for the acknowledgment with the lips of one's faith in Jesus as Lord (1 Tim. 6:12, 13; Rom. 10:9, 10).

      2. It is used for the confession of sin--a confession made, not to men, but to God (1 John 1:9; Mark 1:5, cf. Luke 18:13).

      Forgiveness is promised to the sinner who yields in faith and obedience to the Lord Jesus (Acts 2:38; Mark 16:15, 16). It' is received in Christ, and in him alone (Acts 5:31; Ephes. 1:7).

      Should a child of God fall into sin, it is his privilege to go to his heavenly Father for pardon, who, "if we confess our sins, is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).

      THE Council of Trent, by whose decisions the Roman Church acknowledges herself to be implicitly bound, decreed: "Images are not only to be placed in temples, but also to be worshipped, as if the persons represented thereby were present."

      The peculiar practice of worshipping images, which is common among Roman Catholics, and which to a Protestant, seems to be a species of idolatry, had its origin in the early decorative paintings in churches and on tombs. In these paintings, various pictorial emblems, such as a dove, a ship, a fish, a shepherd bearing a lamb, or a cross, were freely used. The dove represented the Holy Spirit, the ship was symbolic of the voyage of the soul, and the shepherd and the cross were typical of the Saviour. The fish was also an emblem of the Saviour, since the Greek word for fish gave the initial letters of the great confession, "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour."

      It was the practice also to have in the churches pictures of martyrs and saints, and even of the Saviour himself. By a very natural process, in the course of time the reverence intended for the Saviour and the saints was transferred to the pictures and the symbols. These became objects of veneration, then of worship. Magical powers were attributed to them. By the end of the fourth century the worship of images had become general.

      The practice was not accepted without a struggle. Many earnest protests were made against the growing evil. In the eighth century the use of images was a sore point of controversy between the Eastern and the Western Churches, and was in part the cause of the trouble that led to the rupture between the Greek and Roman hierarchies.

      The veneration of saints and martyrs, to which reference has been made, is also a product of the early centuries. We use the word saints in the Roman Catholic sense, of one who has been canonised by the Church. In the New Testament the word saint is applicable to every Christian, meaning one who is set apart to the service of Christ and a life of holiness (Romans 1:7; Phil. 1:1). The origin of this veneration was as follows: It was the practice to collect if possible the remains--the bodies, or perhaps the bones or ashes--of martyrs (cf. Acts 8:2), and give them burial. There came also the custom of holding services at these graves for

prayer and communion. In the age of Constantine, splendid churches were built over these burial places. Gradually the idea developed that these remains had some miraculous power. In many cases relies of the saints were dug up and deposited in the altar. Then the idea began to arise that there was peculiar efficacy in the intercession of saints and martyrs. Origen (185-251 A.D.) was the first to teach such a doctrine publicly, and from that time the notion spread rapidly.

      At the close of the sixth century the invocation of saints became a part of the prayers of the church. Pope Gregory the Great appointed litanies, in which saints were invoked by name, to be used in churches. We saw in the last chapter that saints are invoked in the Confiteor--the form of words used in confession. At the present day, throughout every part of the authorised worship of the Roman Church, saints are implored to intercede for the worshipper.

      The better informed among the Roman Catholics understand that the worship rendered to saints is not the same as that given to God. The worship of God is designated latria, which is exclusively reserved for the Divine Being. The worship of saints is known as dulia--an inferior kind of worship. How far this refined distinction, based upon latinized Greek words, is understood by the ordinary worshipper, would be an interesting question.

      Without any doubt, the worship of images and saints was largely due at the first to the masses of pagan peoples who became nominally Christian, and who brought with them some of their love of pagan customs and worship. The history of this practice makes one of the saddest chapters in church history. Originating as it did in ignorance, it became a means of deceiving the masses, and the use of relics, and the veneration of the saints, which have been carried to ridiculous extremes, have been found a lucrative means of filling the coffers of the church.

      Without staying to enlarge on that side of the matter--the story is readily available for those who wish for information on the subject--we may note that there is not the slightest countenance in the Word of God for the worship of saints. An attempt to find such authority is indeed made, but the attempt is a complete failure, except to those who accept the footnote, supplied by the church, as the standard of authority. Luke 16:9 is one proof passage. In the Douay Version it reads: "Make unto you friends of the mammon of iniquity, that when you shall fail, they may receive you into everlasting dwellings." The footnote explains, "By this we see that the poor servants of God, whom we have relieved by our alms, may hereafter, by their intercession, bring our souls to heaven." If any one can intelligently see in the passage what the annotation claims, we have not a word to say. A slightly better text for the purpose, it seems to us, is Revelation 5:8, where the symbolism of the writer, based on the Jewish temple service, is pressed into an argument for the intercession of the saints. "Here we see," says the footnote on this verse, "that the saints in heaven

offer up to Christ the prayers of the faithful upon the earth." If any man be persuaded by these proof texts, let him be persuaded!

      Most exalted of all the saints, and worthy of a higher degree of worship than any, is Mary, "the Mother of God." Extravagant terms of adoration are applied to her. She is called "the great Mediatrix between God and man, obtaining for sinners all that they can ask or demand of the blessed Trinity." She is called "the Queen of Mercy," "the Hope of All," "Our Only Refuge Queen of Heaven and Hell," "the Ladder of Paradise," "the Gate of Heaven," and "the Morning Star." One of the Roman Catholic prayers in most constant use is the "Ave Maria," or "Hail Mary," which contains the words, "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and in the hour of death." The Rosary consists of one hundred and fifty Ave Marias, with a Pater Noster between every ten. That is to say, one hundred and fifty prayers to Mary, and fifteen to the Heavenly Father! Many pages might be filled with similar evidences of this mingled blasphemy and idolatry.

      The history of the development of this dogma is one of strange interest. Its beginning is closely associated with the early discussion on the Person of Christ. In the fifth century when the term "Mother of God" had become common, Nestorius, Bishop of Constantinople, took exception to the expression, maintaining that Mary gave birth to the human nature of Christ only, as distinguished from the Divine nature. His doctrine was condemned by the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D., which sanctioned the name "Mother of God" as applied to Mary. From that time the practice of Mariolatry rapidly developed. This is partly to be explained by the influence of the hosts of barbarians who had been accustomed to the worship of female divinities, and who on their conversion to Christianity brought some of their pagan customs into the church.

      Professor Fisher, in speaking of the worship of Mary, suggests another thing which probably had influence on the development of this doctrine. "To her," he says, "the common Christians look for that mediatorial sympathy which they dared not seek from the Christ whose humanity seemed lost in exaltation." In the discussions of those early days, and in the resulting bitterness, men lost sight of the lowly Jesus, the Friend of man. He was hidden far away in the mazes of dialectical statement, and hearts that were hungry for sympathy and communion, failing to find it in the exalted Christ, turned for help to the mother, and she came to be regarded as the mediatrix between God and man.

      In order to give some semblance of consistency to Mariolatry, a number of associated dogmas have arisen. First among these is the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, which is that Mary was born without the taint of original sin. "This doctrine," says Robertson, "was long simmering in the mind of the Church. As far back as the twelfth century it was mooted; in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries it formed the bone of contention between the two mendicant orders of the Franciscans and the Dominicans; in the fifteenth century at the Council of Basle, it was declared that the

doctrine was in harmony with Faith, Reason, and Scripture; in the sixteenth century the Council of Trent pronounced in an indirect way in its favor; in the seventeenth century the Jesuits promulgated the doctrine everywhere; in the eighteenth century under their influence, one pope after another observed it by offices and festival days; until in the nineteenth century it became an article of faith in the Church, to deny which is heresy meriting eternal punishment."

      Further, Mary is declared to have lived an absolutely sinless life, and as, in addition her life was one of privation and sacrifice it was a life of atoning merit, and became a propitiation for sin Thus supported, the worship of Mary is securely established in the Roman Catholic Church.

      There is an entire absence of Scripture authority for Mariolatry. In the Gospel narratives, the picture of Mary is one of sweet and gracious motherhood. She moves us to compassion alike by, her pathetic inability to comprehend the mission and the teaching of her Son, and by the arrows which pierced her soul because of his sorrow.

      Our Roman Catholic friends, however, in their characteristic way, have fixed upon one passage, and by the aid of a footnote have sought to make it the authority of Scripture for their teaching and practice concerning Mary. The words are part of what is called The Canticle of the Virgin Mary (Luke, 1:48), "All generations shall call me blessed." The footnote says: "These words are a prediction of that honor which the church in all ages should pay to the Blessed Virgin. Let Protestants examine whether they are in any way concerned in this prophecy."

      We accept the challenge without trepidation. There is surely a wide distinction between the natural import of the words "All generations shall call me blessed," and the extravagant homage paid to Mary in the Roman Church. Blessed indeed she was, as no other woman ever can be, in becoming the mother of the Holy Child Jesus. But that she was free from all sin, that she was divine, as Christ is divine, and that she should be the object of worship, are dogmas which rest, not upon the word of Scripture, but purely upon the authority of the church.

      The Word of God does teach very clearly--and no footnotes are needed to make the meaning plain--that "there is one Mediator between God and man, the Man Christ Jesus" (1 Timothy 2:5), that all prayers should be offered in the name of the Lord Jesus (John 14:13; 16:23, 24), that he, with the Holy Spirit, makes intercession for us (Romans 8:26, 34; Hebrews 7:25), and that he is the ground of our faith, and of our right to come unto God (Hebrews 4:14-16). The idolatrous worship of Mary and of other saints has confused the minds of myriads, and has robbed the Christ of the glory due to him. We plead for a closer approach to the human heart of Jesus, God's dear Son, that the adoration of our own hearts be given to him, and that in all things he may have the pre-eminence.

      SACRAMENTS, says the Catholic Encyclopedia, are "outward signs of inward grace, instituted by Christ for our sanctification." They are the external visible ceremonies that God has appointed as the means by which certain graces are conferred upon men. "It is the nature of man to be led by things corporeal and sense-perceptible to things spiritual and intelligible . . . therefore it was fitting that Divine Wisdom should provide means of salvation for men in the form of certain corporeal and sensible signs which are called sacraments." Let it be noted that sacraments are not only signs of grace, but they cause that grace in the hearts of men.

      The history of the word is interesting. In Latin writers, sacramentum signified something sacred, as the oath by which a soldier was bound, or the money deposited as a pledge by litigants in a contest. To the Church Fathers, the word meant something sacred and mysterious. The corresponding Greek word is mysterion--mystery. Thus in Ephesians 5:32 the word mysterion, translated in the A.V. mystery, is in the Latin Vulgate sacramentum, and in the Douay translation sacrament.

      The Roman Catholic Church decrees "If any one say that grace is not conferred by the sacraments ex opere operato, but that faith in God's promises is alone sufficient for obtaining grace, let him be anathema." That is to say, grace is received in sacraments by virtue of the action itself, and does not depend on the understanding or worthiness either of the minister or of the recipient.

      Protestants generally demand active faith, which apprehends and appropriates the spiritual benefits, as a condition of the efficacy of a sacrament.

      The Roman Catholic Church teaches that there are seven sacraments instituted by Jesus Christ, and which confer grace upon those who receive them. These are Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Extreme Unction, Orders and Matrimony. We have already dealt with penance (Chapter 3). "Orders" refers to the ordination of ministers. "Extreme Unction" is the ceremony of anointing a sick person "for the purpose of healing both the mind and the body." The meaning of the other sacraments is probably familiar to all.

      Protestants admit but two sacraments--baptism and the Lord's Supper. The other ceremonies of the Roman Church are rejected from the catalogue of sacraments on the grounds either that they

are not scriptural or that they have no relation to the evangelical covenant between the soul and God.

      Since the New Testament never speaks of baptism or the Lord's Supper as a sacrament (or mystery) it is a pity that the word has been retained at all. There is nothing to lose and everything to gain by speaking of ordinances in scriptural terms. Certainly such a practice would clear the atmosphere and save many people from the confusion they feel when thinking of the sacraments.

      With this brief commentary upon the subject in general, we shall give more deliberate attention to the chief of the Roman Catholic sacraments. The celebration of the Eucharist is a great central peculiarity of the Romish system. The complex service of prayers and ceremonies is called the Mass. The Mass consists "in the consecration of the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ, and the offering up of this same body and blood to God by the ministry of the priest, for a perpetual memorial of Christ's sacrifice upon the cross, and a continuation of the same until the end of the world."

      There is some doubt as to the origin of the word "Mass." The usual explanation is the following: In the ancient churches a service was held for catechumens prior to the communion service. This was dismissed by the minister with the Words Ite, missa est (Go, the dismissal is made), upon which the catechumens dispersed, the members in full standing alone remaining to the Eucharistic service. Hence this service came to be called Missa or Mass--an unessential detail giving the name to the whole service.

      The Catechism of the Council of Trent declares: "We confess that the sacrifice of the mass is one and the same sacrifice with that upon the cross. The victim is one and the same Christ Jesus, who offered Himself, once only, a bloody sacrifice on the altar of the cross. The bloody and unbloody victim is still one and the same, and the oblation of the cross is daily renewed in the Eucharistic sacrifice in obedience to the command of our Lord, "This do in commemoration of me." The priest is also the same Christ our Lord; the ministers who offer this sacrifice consecrate the holy mysteries not in their own but in the person of Christ. This the words of consecration declare. The priest does not say, 'This is the body of Christ,' but 'This is my body,' and thus invested with the character of Christ, he changes the substance of the bread and the wine into the substance of his real body and blood."

      The celebration of the mass is an intricate and elaborate service. We cannot describe it fully here. After a number of prayers and recitations the priest consecrates the bread and wine, converting them, the Roman Catholic believes, into the body and blood of the Lord, which conversion is called Transubstantiation. The bread, under the name of the Host (Lat. hostia a sacrificial victim) or sacrifice, is lifted up in view of the congregation. This elevation of the host represents the Saviour's elevation upon the cross, and his subsequent resurrection. "The host is broken, in imitation of Christ's breaking the bread, and a particle of it is mixed with the

wine, to denote the reuniting of Christ's body blood and-soul, at his resurrection." The priest partakes of both the bread and the wine-the people receive only the communion of the bread.

      The Romanist believes that the blessing derived from the sacrifice of the mass may be enjoyed not only by the living, but by the dead. It is by the saying of masses that souls are delivered from purgatory. This idea has been the source of one of the most objectionable features of Roman Catholicism. The doctrine of purgatory and the efficacy of masses to deliver the soul therefrom has developed into an appalling system of graft. People who believe their loved ones suffer in purgatory are always willing to pay money to deliver them, and working upon the credulity of the people and upon their love for their departed friends, priests have extorted enormous sums of money to purchase masses for the repose of the souls of the dead.

      The doctrine of Transubstantiation was a somewhat late development in the history of the church. It was not commonly talked of until the ninth century, and did not receive ecclesiastical sanction until 1215, in the reign of Pope Innocent III.

      The argument in support of the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist is drawn by Roman Catholics from the Scriptures and from tradition. A strong point is made of the fact that in each record of the supper the words of Christ are: "This is my body." The Douay Testament in its footnote on Matthew 26:26 says, "He does not say, 'This is the figure of my body,' but 'This is my body,' Neither does he say, 'In this' or 'with this is my body,' but absolutely 'this is my body,' which plainly implies transubstantiation."

      Alexander Campbell, in his debate with Bishop Purcell (1837) sets out in a few words the fallacy of this argument. "Is it because Jesus always so speaks, that he must be thus understood? Then I contend, that when he said, 'I am the door,' he was literally transubstantiated into a door; and when he said, 'I am the bread which came down from heaven,' he was converted into bread; and when he said, 'I am the true vine,' he was literally changed into a real vine. And why not? Is it more irrational, marvellous, incredible, than that 'this loaf is my body' should mean that this loaf was converted into his body and changed into flesh; and that while the apostles were eating the loaf they were eating the living flesh of him that stood before them? . . . Finally, on this part of the subject Jesus said of the cup, 'This cup is the New Testament.' Does not that on the Bishop's premises prove that the cup was changed into the New Testament?"

      Another passage which it is claimed supports the Roman doctrine is 1 Corinthians 11:27, 29, "Guilty of the body and blood of the Lord"; "not discerning the Lord's body." Those of us who have been familiar with these words of Paul from earliest childhood, and thought we understood them, may be surprised to learn from the Douay footnote that "this demonstrates the real presence of the body and blood of Christ, even to the unworthy communicant,

who otherwise could not be guilty of the body and blood of Christ, or justly condemned for not discerning the Lord's body."

      But our Roman Catholic friends put a strain upon the words they are not able to bear. If transubstantiation were a fact, these words of Paul would accord with the fact, and they can be used with fine effect before Roman Catholic audiences when the priest, is emphasising the sacredness of the Eucharist. But more than that cannot be said, for Paul's words are just as true, and just as solemn, when we regard the bread and wine as emblems of the body and the blood of Christ.

      The primary reference of the Lord's Supper is to the death of Christ. The broken body and shed blood symbolise the atoning death upon the cross. Hence the Supper was designed to be a memorial of the Saviour's love and sacrifice. "This do in remembrance of me," he said. The Supper is also a source of communion with the risen Lord. While commemorating the tragedy of Calvary, the Christian communes with the living Redeemer (1 Cor. 10:16). Further, the ordinance is designed to be a medium of nourishment to the soul. When our Lord said, "Take, eat, this is my body," he seems to mean that we receive more than mere bread and wine in this act of communion we become partakers of the Bread of Life, and we drink spiritually of that blood which alone can satisfy the thirst of the soul. It was this spiritual significance of the act which led to the idea of the real presence--the body, blood, soul, and divinity--of Christ, in the bread and wine, and to the doctrine of transubstantiation.

      Protestants as well as Romanists, in seeking to understand a supposed mystical significance in the Lord's Supper, have been led into all kinds of strange speculation, and have invested this simple and beautiful rite with mystery. Let us come to the feast with hearts prepared by self-examination and prayer, and lovingly partake of the emblems in remembrance of our Lord Jesus, and we shall realise that in the feast he holds sweet converse with his own. Thus we shall enjoy the communion with the living Lord, and the' blessings he has for his people who respond to his invitation will be ours.

      IN 1521 an imposing assembly gathered in the Town Hall in Worms, in Germany. The Emperor Charles V., whose sovereignty extended over a great part of the old and new world, was the central figure, and around him were his brother the Archduke Ferdinand, six electors of the empire, twenty-four dukes, and great numbers of margraves and ambassadors; princes, counts, and sovereign barons; archbishops, bishops, abbots, and papal nuncios.

      Before this, majestic assembly appeared a hapless monk, to answer for his life. He was accused of undermining the authority of the Pope, of assailing the sacred doctrines and prerogatives of the church, and of disturbing the integrity of the Empire.

      Luther, for he it was, had caused a tremendous upheaval in Germany. His coming to Worms had been the signal for great popular demonstrations. The power of his influence had called together perhaps the most imposing court before which man had ever appeared.

      It seemed an unequal contest. His enemies, the partisans of Rome, looking upon the lonely man who appeared for trial, despised him. Charles, who had been impatient to see the monk whose words had stirred the realm--was disappointed, and said disdainfully, "Certainly this man will never make a heretic of me." Yet the events of the Diet of Worms, as it is called, constituted one of the greatest scenes of history. And its greatness consisted, not in the power of the assembled princes, but in the sturdy courage and godly might of he monk whom they despised.

      Luther was asked two questions: First, Had the books before him been written by him? Second, Was he prepared to retract what he had said in those books?

      Luther acknowledged the authorship of the books. In answer to the second question, he pleaded eloquently in support of what he had written, and when challenged for a direct answer, he said: "I cannot submit my faith either to the Pope or the Councils, because it is as clear as the day that they have frequently erred and contradicted each other. Unless therefore I am convinced by the testimony of Scripture, or by the clearest reasoning, unless I am persuaded by means of the passages I have quoted, and unless they thus render my conscience bound by the Word of God, I cannot and I will not retract, for it is unsafe for a Christian to speak against his conscience."

      And then, looking round on the surprised assembly which held his life in its hands, he uttered the memorable words: "Here I stand; I can do no other; may God help me! Amen! " (Quoted from D'Aubigne's History.)

      Martin Luther, whose life and work figure so prominently in the beginning of the great Reformation, began his career as a student of law, but on account of inward struggles arising from a desire for his soul's salvation, he entered the ascetic order of the Augustines, and became a monk. But this did not solve his spiritual problems, and the question, How can the soul obtain pardon for its sins? caused him much distress. During these days of heartsearching, he discovered a Latin Bible, which he read most eagerly. Presently, as a result of his reading, aided by a growing sense of the corruption of the church which insisted upon works as a ground of salvation, there dawned upon his soul the wondrous light which had been obscured by centuries of false teaching, that God justifies by faith, apart from the works of the law.

      "That," Dr. Maclaren says, "is Luther's first claim on our gratitude, that he lifted this truth from the bier where for centuries it had lain, smothered with sacerdotal garments, and called it to life again."

      We cannot pause just now to study the whole of the rich inheritance which comes to us as a result of Luther's discovery. Naturally there followed the sweeping away of the separate priesthood, and the opening of the way to God for every Christian soul. Naturally, too, Luther insisted upon giving to the people the book which had brought light to himself, and one of the great achievements of his life was the placing of the Bible in the hands of his countrymen.

      The development of the Reformation, as of every great movement, centres around a number of striking personalities. Not alone to them, however, is honor due. We gratefully acknowledge our indebtedness to the myriads of unknown people who supported the heroes of the Reformation, and made their work possible. But as the work never could have been done but for these giants of faith and courage, it is pleasing to be able to recognise their claim upon our gratitude, and to pay this tribute to them.

      The trial of Luther at the Diet of Worms suggests another scene, which took place in the hall of the Blackfriars' Monastery in London, nearly 150 years before. "Amid purple robes and gowns of satin and damask, amid monks and abbots, and bishops and doctors of the church" and surrounded by a great crowd of witnesses, stood John Wycliffe, "the morning star of the Reformation."

      Describing the scene, J. Patterson Smyth says: "The judges have taken their seats, and the accused stands awaiting the charges to be read, when suddenly there is a quick cry of terror. A strange rumbling sound fills the air, and the walls of the judgment hall are trembling to their base--the monastery and the city of London are being shaken by an earthquake! Friar and prelate grow pale with

superstitious awe. Twice already has the arraignment of Wycliffe been strangely interrupted. Are the elements in league with this enemy of the Church? Shall they give up the trial?

      "No!" thunders Archbishop Courtenay, rising in his place, 'we will not give up the trial. This earthquake but portends the purging of the kingdom, for as there are in the bowels of the earth noxious vapors which only by a violent earthquake can be purged away, so there are evils brought by such men upon this land which only by a very earthquake can be removed. Let the trial go forward!'

      "What think you were the evils which this pale ascetic had wrought, needing a very earthquake to cleanse them from the land? Had he falsified the Divine message to the people in his charge? Was he turning men's hearts from the worship of God? Was his priestly office disgraced by carelessness or drunkenness or impurity of life?

      "Oh, no! Such faults could be gently judged at the tribunal in the Blackfriars' Hall. Wycliffe's was a far more serious crime. He had dared to attack the corruptions of the Church . . . he had denounced pardons and indulgences and masses for the soul as a part of a system of gigantic fraud. And, worst of all, he had filled up the cup of his iniquity by translating the Scriptures into the English tongue."

      Wycliffe, was condemned by the Synod, and later on he was excommunicated. But he persevered with his task, until the work of translation was finished, and for the first time England had a complete version of the Scriptures in the language of the people.

      Forty years after his death, the Council of Constance, with a littleness of spirit passing our understanding, ordered Wycliffe's bones to be dug up and burned and the ashes flung into the river Swift. "This brook hath conveyed his ashes into Avon, Avon into Severn, Severn into the narrow seas, they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed all the world over."

      The honor roll of the heroes who gave the Bible to England contains many names, and none are more worthy than that of Tyndale, who was born in the year following Luther's birth, and who was a friend of the German reformer. The circulation of Wycliffe's Bible was restricted, because it was translated before the days of printing. In the meantime, printing had been invented, but the whole power of the Roman Church was exerted to prevent the Word of God from circulating among the people. Tyndale, stirred to the depths by the wondrous revelation of the love of God to man, and moved by the attitude of the church, one day exclaimed, "I defy the Pope and all his laws. If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough to know more of the Scripture than does the Pope."

      To the work of translating and publishing the Scriptures he gave his life. It involved him in exile, and brought him to the

stake. But he succeeded. In 1536 he was strangled at the stake and burned to ashes, and as he died, he prayed, "Lord, open the King of England's eyes." He suffered martyrdom because he had given the Bible to the people, and so well had his-work been done, and so determined had become the people of England to have the Bible in their hands, that in 1539, only three years after Tyndale's death, the king, Henry VIII., authorised the publication of the great Bible-a translation which was substantially that prepared by Tyndale, the grace and charm of whose work is one of the most admirable qualities in the Authorised Version of the present day;

      The early reformers to whom we are indebted include the noble army of martyrs, who suffered death in England for the Word of God, and the hope of the gospel. It is sometimes asserted that it was largely through the persecutions during the reign of "Bloody Mary" that England adopted the principles of the Reformation. Though the Reformation is generally dated from the reign of Henry VIII., it will be remembered that his opposition to Rome was largely political, and anything but spiritual, and that it was not difficult for Mary on her accession to reconcile England to Rome. But when the persecutions began, and Protestants were called upon to die for their cause, through the witness they bore to the power and joy of their personal faith, the tides of the spiritual Reformation set in full and strong over England. While Ridley and Latimer were being tied to the stake by cruel and callous hands on, the morning of October 16, 1555, and the burning faggots were being laid at their feet, Latimer cried to his friend, "Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust never shall be put out." Prophetic words indeed, for the light still shines, and to these martyrs of the faith there is due from us a memorial of grateful recollection.

      The complete history of the great reformers includes the story of many men whom we can barely introduce here--of the noble Zwingli and his insistence upon the spiritual priesthood of all believers; of Calvin of the mighty mind, and his stern doctrine of the sovereignty of God; of the intrepid John Knox, and his sturdy blows at the "synagogue of Satan"; of the spiritual Wesley and his call to a renewed Christian life; and of many another of whom the world was not worthy. They all, "having obtained a good report through faith, received not the promise, God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect" (Heb. 11:39-40 )

      THE Church of the Lord Jesus began its existence with songs of triumph and joy. The thousands of converts on the first Pentecost after the resurrection were but an earnest of greater triumphs ahead. The challenge of the Master in the world-wide commission was accepted by his followers with ardent enthusiasm. In spite of opposition the work of the gospel was carried on with resistless energy. The kings of the earth set themselves and the rulers took counsel together, against the Lord, and against his Anointed, but they could not stay his hand. The history of the early church reads like a romance. A great host, whom no man could number, rallied to the banner of the King of kings, and marched on to ever increasing victory, sanctifying, the world as they passed.

      There were two things especially characteristic of the church in those triumphant days, and which, under the blessing and power of God, were largely responsible for the progress that was made:

      First, the church was united;

      Second, the church was free.

      The church was united. Neither Jesus nor his apostles could endure the thought of division among the people of God. The Saviour prayed that his followers might be one, united in fellowship so sincerely and truly that their union would be like the oneness of the Father and the Son, and would compel the faith of the world in his Messiahship. Paul insisted that schism was sin, and those who were guilty of fostering division were carnally minded. There were disruptive elements in the church from the beginning, but the men of God labored to preserve the spirit of unity, and were so far successful that for three hundred years a united church carried forward the work of the gospel.

      The church was free. Jesus had said, "If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." And the great apostle had echoed, "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." When attempts were being made in one of the early churches to bring the children of God back under that bondage to the law and tradition from which Jesus had liberated them, Paul wrote, "Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free" (2 Cor. 3:17; Gal. 5:1).

      Three centuries after the population in Jerusalem hounded Christ to death with the cry, "We have no king but Caesar," the Caesar himself acknowledged Christ as King. During these years several emperors had used all the power of Rome to crush the church, but in the face of that opposition the church had now become so strong as to win the allegiance of emperors. But this change was indicative, not so much of spiritual power, as of the tremendous political force into which the church had developed.

      With the coming of political power came also the decay of moral and spiritual life. The history of the church, in the ensuing centuries makes sad reading. Unity was still maintained. The seeds of division were ruthlessly destroyed by the iron will of men who usurped authority and shared in the honors which belonged alone to Christ. But liberty was withdrawn. Men were now forced back into the very bondage from which Christ had sought to redeem them. The Word of God was closed, and his people were compelled to listen to the voice of an ecclesiastical hierarchy which affected to speak in his name, and to interpret his Word to the world. Faith gave place to penance and works of supererogation; access to God was blocked by crafty priests who demanded the unburdening of the soul to sinful men, and the joy of salvation was lost. The loving Christ was obscured. He became an exalted far away Someone whom no one could approach, and in their need of sympathy the hungry souls of men were directed to Mary the mother of Jesus, and to the saints who had won the martyr's crown, and who it was supposed would intercede for them before the throne.

      In the period known as the Dark Ages, the church was still united, but was not free.

      The Reformation, which began as we usually say, in the sixteenth century--though the impulses which marked its early development are discovered long before that-was a movement toward liberty. Freedom for conscience, freedom from pope and priest, freedom to read the Word of God-these were the watchwords of the reformers. "God alone," said the Westminster Confession, "is Lord of the Conscience."

      Yet the idea of complete liberty was hardly conceived in those days. Zwingli indeed seemed to catch a glimpse of the Vision Splendid, and. pleaded for a complete emancipation of the people of God. "The Zurich reformer," says D'Aubigne, in his History of the Reformation, "passed over the preceding ages, returned to apostolic times, and carrying out an entire transformation of the church, endeavored to restore it to its primitive condition."

      Luther, however, wished to remain united to the church in which he was born. He struck mighty blows at Rome, and broke many of the shackles which she had fastened upon the souls of the people. But he sought only to mitigate the bondage, not to end it. To the people who followed him, he said, "I pray you to leave my name alone, and do not call yourselves Lutherans, but Christians." Wesley at a later date, lived and died a member of the Church of England, which he labored to reform.

      Even Zwingli failed to hold the vision steadily. He could be intolerant. Men in Zurich, where he ruled, who were hostile to the Reformation, were jealously watched, and one at least was imprisoned and beheaded. Calvin was concerned in the burning of Servetus in Geneva in 1553. Hallam in his Introduction to the Literature of Europe says that persecution for religious heretodoxy in all its degrees, was in the sixteenth century the principle as well as the practice of every church. The idea that heretical teachers should be punished with death was not uncommon among the reformers. Professor Fisher mentions Bullinger, Zwingli's successor, and Melancthon as holding the same view. It is not surprising; that was Rome's way, and these men knew no other. The return of the light and liberty of the Gospel came but slowly. There could be but one result. Men who had breathed the air of freedom would not submit again to intolerance. If it were natural that the ardour of the leaders in reform should make them intolerant of all who differed from them, so was it natural that others regarded their attempted domination as part of the bondage of Rome from which they revolted. Hence, whenever the restraint became irksome, men broke away, and formed new parties. Thus sectarianism was born, and thus it was that the church's struggle for liberty resulted in the destruction of unity in the church.

      Someone has said, "Roman Catholicism has accentuated unity and sacrificed liberty, resulting in religious despotism. Protestantism has accentuated liberty and sacrificed unity, resulting in division and religious anarchy."

      The unfinished task of the Reformation is twofold:--First, to maintain and develop the ideal of religious liberty. We have had the blade, then the ear--the full corn in the ear is yet to come. Second, to restore through liberty the unity of the church.

      Then will the church be equipped for her God-given task. The spirit of Christ will control her. She will move out in her united strength to the evangelisation of the world, and God will be glorified in the church.

      A recent statement of a dignitary in the Church of Rome informs us that Romanism longs for unity, and is ready for it, but it can only be by an unequivocal acceptance of the authority of the church. Unity without liberty! But that day has passed, and will never dawn again. Rome's dream is vain. If the choice is between liberty and unity, we shall stay divided and free.

      It is only as we are instrumental in "shaping the larger liberty" that Protestantism will come to its fruition. Romanism will continue to be a force to reckon with so long as Rome's intolerance controls in the churches of Protestantism. Our attitude towards Christ is the vital thing. But our conception of theology, our theories of inspiration, our ideas of the order of church service, our methods of work--these may or may not be right, and certainly are not vital to Christian unity. Here there must be liberty.

      As individuals, we may cherish some of these things as vital principles. If so we could not unite with any body of people who would refuse us freedom to hold and to teach them. But the liberty we demand for ourselves we must grant to, others. In the interpretation of Scripture each Christian must exercise his God-given right and freedom. We may think another is controlled by prejudice, or hindered by ignorance. It is then our privilege to seek to teach him, not to bind him.

      More important than any proposed scheme for the union of Christians is the cultivation of a fraternal spirit that will make proposed schemes effective. The spirit of unity in the hearts of God's people will overcome every obstacle, but without that spirit every proposal will prove abortive. The pathway to union lies open but too often we have preferred to make paths of our own.

      The Saviour's prayer, "That they all may be one," pleads for a unity which will be secured through no coercion save that of love The Master expresses it thus: "As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us" (John 17:21). God hasten the day when a united church will compel universal belief in the Messiahship of Jesus our Lord.