has shown the process by which truth is advanced.
Old errors, he says, do not die because they are refuted,
but
fade out because they are neglected.
One hundred and fifty years ago, our ancestors were
perplexed, and even distressed, by something they called
the doctrine of Original Sin. No one now concerns
himself either to refute or assert the doctrine; few
people know what it is; we all simply let it alone,
and it fades out. John Wesley not merely believed
in witchcraft, but maintained that a belief in witchcraft
was essential to salvation. All the world, except
here and there an enlightened and fearless person,
believed in witchcraft as late as the year 1750.
That belief has not perished because its folly was
demonstrated, but because the average human mind grew
past it, and let it alone until it faded out in the
distance. Or we might compare the great body of
beliefs to a banquet, in which every one takes what
he likes best; and the master of the feast, observing
what is most in demand, keeps an abundant supply of
such viands, but gradually withdraws those which are
neglected. Mr. Beecher has helped himself to such
beliefs as are congenial to him, and shows an exquisite
tact in passing by those which interest him not, and
which have lost regenerating power. There
are
minds which cannot be content with anything like vagueness
or inconsistency in their opinions. They must
know to a certainty whether the sun and moon stood
still or not. His is not a mind of that cast;
he can “hover on the confines of truth,”
and leave the less inviting parts of the landscape
veiled in mist unexplored. Indeed, the great
aim of his preaching is to show the insignificance
of opinion compared with right feeling and noble living,
and he prepares the way for the time when every conceivable
latitude of mere opinion shall be allowed and encouraged.
One remarkable thing about his preaching is, that
he has not, like so many men of liberal tendencies,
fallen into milk-and-waterism. He often gives
a foretaste of the terrific power which preachers will
wield when they draw inspiration from science and life.
Without ever frightening people with horrid pictures
of the future, he has a sense of the perils which
beset human life here, upon this bank and shoal of
time. How needless to draw upon the imagination,
in depicting the consequences of violating natural
law! Suppose a preacher should give a plain,
cold, scientific exhibition of the penalty which Nature
exacts for the crime, so common among church-going
ladies and others, of murdering their unborn offspring!
It would appall the Devil. Scarcely less terrible
are the consequences of the most common vices and
meannesses when they get the mastery. Mr. Beecher
has frequently shown, by powerful delineations of
this kind, how large a part legitimate terror must
ever play in the services of a true church, when the
terrors of superstition have wholly faded out.
It cannot be said of his preaching, that he preaches
“Christianity with the bones taken out.”
He does not give “twenty minutes of tepid exhortation,”
nor amuse his auditors with elegant and melodious essays
upon virtue.