3. The Throne of Grace — not the Confessional, October 16, 1846. First edition, 1846; second edition, 1867.
4. “Was Paul crucified for you?” [A Sermon proving that our Lord Jesus Christ did not die in order to finish a career of martyrdom exemplarily.] Preached December 6, 1863. First and second edition, 1863; third edition (published after his accession to his bishopric), 1864.
5. The Unknown Sufferings of Christ, a Sermon preached at St. George’s, Leicester, on Sunday, October 9, 1864. By Francis, Lord Bishop of Peterborough.
His sermons being not as widely known as those of more prominent authors, I extract three specimen paragraphs.
In the sermon named first, there is this able and instructive statement:—
“The Word of God is not a mere string of moral precepts — an abstract creed — the dry rubric of a ritual service. The Bible is history — the only history of the greater half of time; it is poetry — the chosen source of the inspiration of almost all the great poets of modern days; it is deep argument; it is philosophy. Thus it connects itself with every branch of human knowledge; it awakens and interests every taste; it finds illustration in every art; it is associated with all that is striking in nature. Unlike false religions, ours rests upon demonstration, and challenges criticism, and opposes every other system, and so comes into collision with the most busy intellects, and arrays against it some of the strongest feelings of the human mind. It cannot fail, therefore, to develop the powers of its advocates to the utmost. Whether for explanation or defence, Christianity urges the chronologist to his calculations, the historian to his researches; it descends into the eruxails of the earth with the geologist, or scales the heavens with the astronomer; the metaphysician analyses the mind — the critic deciphers manuscripts and weighs syllables — in its service; it inspires and employs the genius of the poet and the artist; the proselytizing spirit, which animates it, compels it to study every language and to examine every creed; scarcely any question, social, moral, or political, which it does not feel commissioned to decide. The ministers of religion, if ignorant or timid, may perhaps look on the labours of philosophers and the spread of knowledge, with suspicion and fear; but religion herself finds new confirmation in every discovery, and feels that she is best loved where she is best known. The Bible and the evangelical system are so constructed, that they compel men, whether as friends or as foes, to enter upon the whole extent of human knowledge. Wherever Scripture is regarded as the sole rule of Faith and placed in the hands of all who will receive it — wherever the right and the duty of private are upheld — it follows, almost necessarily, that literature and science shall flourish and civilisation be perpetuated.”
The second extract sounds as if a stalwart old Huguenot was speaking to us from the grave. It is from the Sermon on the Throne of Grace:—
“Experience shows, independently of Scripture and reason, that the Romish doctrine of sacramental absolution and auricular confession are not of God. ... It is no vague suspicion that makes us fear that he, into whose ear is poured the whole moral pollution of a community, can hardly keep himself pure, or apply the dreadful knowledge in which he has been trained, without corrupting, or increasing corruption. . . . Long may the holiest affections of English parents be enlisted against the attempt to remedy evil, however sore, by the inoculation of the very virus which is destroying souls. May the peace and the honour of our homes ever be jealously protected from the despotic influence of spiritual direction. May the priest never be permitted to destroy the confidence between mother and child, between husband and wife, between friend and friend.”
The last and most eloquent extract, although taken from his sermon preached in 1863, may be accepted as his final and dying testimony:—
“In those dark hours when man is made to repossess the iniquities of his youth — when the arrows of the Almighty, the poison whereof drinketh the spirit, rankle in the soul — a miserable comforter would he prove who should preach only the example set forth, the witness given, by the death of Christ; for that example the sinner has not followed — that doctrine it is which condemns him. In vain would he be told that the cross is a declaration of unconditional mercy; for conscience, knowing full well that the wages of sin is death, and convinced that the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all unrighteousness, would give the lie at once to such a mutilated gospel. Let me hear when I am on the bed of death that Christ died in the stead of sinners, of whom I am the chief — that He was forsaken of God during those fearful agonies, because he had taken my place — that on His cross I paid the penalty of my guilt. Let me hear too that His blood cleanseth from all sin, and that I may now appear before the bar of God not as pardoned only, but as innocent. Let me realise the great mystery of the reciprocal substitution of Christ and the believer — or rather, their perfect unity, He in them, they in Him, which He has expressly taught. And let me believe that, as I was in effect crucified on Calvary, He will in effect stand before the throne in my person — mine the sin, His the penalty — His the shame, mine the glory — His the throne, mine the crown — His the merits, mine the reward. Verily Thou shalt answer for me, O Lord my Righteousness; in Thee have I trusted, let me never be confounded.”
