Preface

To many of my husband’s friends these lectures will come with a special message. They were much on his mind and heart, and before leaving England he spent many hours in their preparation. His affection for the American people has always been strong, and when the invitation came to him to deliver the Divinity Lectures at Yale University, he felt that it was an honour impossible to refuse, though the need for a complete rest was overwhelming. Into their delivery he put all the fire and enthusiasm that were so characteristic of him, and the testimony on all sides was that never before had the lecturer so gripped his audience, and so won all by his personality. Afterwards many of those who had heard him wrote to say how wonderful had been the help and uplift, and how in difficult places they would gain constant inspiration from his words.

Three days after the last lecture he was called suddenly to the presence of the Master whom he served so faithfully. My earnest hope is, that his last message may still cheer and help many of his brother ministers whom he loved so well, and for whom he gave his best.

Katharine M. Horne

Church Stretton,

August, 1914

Introduction

by Charles R. Brown, D. D.

Dean of the Yale Divinity School

From the days when Henry Ward Beecher gave the first series of lectures on the Lyman Beecher Foundation in Yale University, on through those years when this service has been performed by such eminent men as Phillips Brooks and R. W. Dale, Henry van Dyke and John Watson, Lyman Abbott and George A. Gordon, Washington Gladden and Francis G. Peabody, the task of inspiring young ministers to nobler effort in their high calling has been well performed. But among them all, few lecturers have ever so gripped the divinity students, the larger audience of pastors in active service and the thoughtful people of New Haven as did Silvester Horne when he spoke to us on The Romance of Preaching.

He was himself a shining example of those high and chivalrous qualities which he would covet for the true prophet, and the younger Knights of the Cross responded to his spiritual appeal as to the bugle-call of a genuine leader.

The intellectual distinction which marked his utterances, the fine literary form in which they were phrased, the moral passion which gave to their delivery that energy which belongs to words which are spirit and life, together with the rare spiritual insight displayed, all combined to make notable the service rendered by Mr. Horne to Yale University.

It seemed tragic that just three days after he had finished this course of lectures, he should suddenly be caught away like the prophet of old, from the deck of a steamer as he neared the city of Toronto where he was to preach next day at the University. Here, indeed, are his last words, spoken in an upper room to his brother ministers, younger and older, upon whom he had breathed his own spirit of intense devotion to the high task of proclaiming the Gospel of Christ!

The sense of loss to England and to America, and to the whole Christian world, made all hearts heavy. But he being dead yet speaketh, in these inspiring words and in that genius for friendship which has left its benediction upon so many thousands of hearts, and in that distinguished service which it was his privilege to render to Church and to State on that side the water and on this.

Yale University.

A Biographical Sketch

by Howard A. Bridgenan, D. D.

Editor of The Congregationalist

Into the forty-nine years of his earthly life Charles Silvester Horne poured a measure of service in behalf of his nation, his church and the world at large, such as can be credited to few of his contemporaries on either side of the Atlantic. He was fortunate in his ancestry, his training, his environment, his family, his friends, and in the opportunities that, from time to time, crossed his path, but the greatest of God’s many gifts to him was a sense of the glory and seriousness of life and an eagerness. with God’s help, to do his own part in the work of the world. A son of the manse he was born in Cuckfield, Sussex, England, April 15, 1865, took his arts course at Glasgow University, entering upon graduation the newly established theological school at Oxford known as Mansfield College, whose principal, the late Dr. Andrew M. Fairbairn, was renowned for his learning and his personal influence over his pupils. Before the young Theologue, who at once evinced his unusual qualifications for the ministry, completed his course, a church in London claimed him as its leader and there at Kensington for ten years in a fashionable section of the world’s metropolis Mr. Horne preached and labored, building up a compact and vigorous organization and gaining distinction even in his earliest years as a pulpit and platform orator. Then came the pull on his sensitive, daring nature of London’s poverty and need. Leaving his attractive pastorate, where he had won popularity among all classes, he assumed the leadership at Whitefield’s Tabernacle in the heart of the city, close to the homes of the poor and to haunts of shame. Into this new enterprise he entered with characteristic zeal and soon developed a great church of the institutional type, pervaded with a homelike atmosphere and ministering Sundays and week days alike to clerks, artisans and other types of working people, and exercising a beneficent influence over the neighborhood, which sadly needed something to counteract the influence of the gin-house and brothel.

Meanwhile the Congregational Churches of England, and the Free Churches generally, had been claiming Mr. Horne’s efficient assistance in the support of important enterprises. Invitations to speak here and there were showered upon him. He was honored with the chairmanship of the Congregational Union of England and Wales. Pressing public issues like the controversy over the Education Bill drew him into the arena of politics, and he became known as one of the most gallant and earnest fighters for freedom in Church and State. His rare oratorical gifts made him one of the favor-ire spokesmen of the Non-conformist conscience on many public occasions. It was natural, in view of the reliance placed upon him, that he should at last yield to the strong demand that he stand for Parliament, and in 1910 he was returned as junior Member for Ipswich. For a time he undertook to carry the burden of his great church along with his Parliamentary duties, but at the end of ten years of the hardest kind of work at Whitefield’s he relinquished his leadership, only, however, to give himself more untiringly to clamorous calls for his services. He felt especially the appeal of the Brotherhood Movement, and was planning as National President to give much time to its advocacy and to details of administration.

All through the years of active ministry he wielded a facile pen and many articles in newspapers and magazines bear witness to his literary fertility, While even more substantial and enduring in their influence are his valuable volumes, A Popular History of the Free Churches, A Modern Heretic, A Story of the London Missionary Society, The Ministry of the Modern Church, and David Livingstone. His last and in many respects his noblest literary production was the Lyman Beecher lectures at Yale, to the preparation of which he devoted much time during the last year of his life, and which are embodied in this volume.

As preacher, organizer, publicist, author, pastor and friend, Silvester Horne did a work in his short life that in volume and quality made him one of the remarkable religious leaders of his age. And over and around everything that he did, touching it with enduring beauty, was the radiance of a pure, joyous and unselfish life.

Boston.

1. The Servant of the Spirit

I must begin the honorable task your kind confidence has assigned to me by a simple and heartfelt acknowledgment of this high privilege. You have asked me to attempt an undertaking which can never have been an easy one, and which becomes measurably more difficult as the long sequence of volumes occupies shelf after shelf of our libraries. There were as you know humane laws under the old Hebrew dispensation in favor of those who had to toil for small reward as gleaners of the meager residuum of the harvest-field after the more favored harvesters had filled their barns to overflowing with grain of the earlier reaping. So far as I can see my predecessors have had little compassion on posterity. They never beheld my pathetic figure laboriously garnering the slender ears they had overlooked, and submitting them for acceptance to a highly critical market.

Nevertheless, if I cherish for my distinguished predecessors just a faint sentiment of envy, I trust I am able at the same time to perceive that they did not have all the good fortune. We are gleaning on a field where history is being made every year. The passage of the generations enhances the splendor of the retrospect, and, in proportion, the magnificence of the prospect. You have not invited me here to lecture on an obsolete art. This is not a funeral oration. The prophet is not on the point of being bowed out of the modern world. The progress of civilization may make some professions unnecessary. With the world wide triumph of the Prince of Peace I take it the soldier will make his final salute to the nations; and I suppose even the lawyer may find existence somewhat precarious. Some of us look to see the enterprise at present associated with the manufacture and sale of injurious liquors and implements of war diverted to more wholesome channels.

Some trades and professions, it is clear, will die out as the kingdom of God comes to its own. But for every voice that carries inspiration to its fellows; for every soul that has some authentic word from the Eternal wherewith to guide and bless mankind, there will always be a welcome. No changes of the future can cancel the commission of the preacher. He does not hold that commission from any human society. He is the servant of the Spirit. He is not the creation of a state, or a municipality. Societies may organize and reorganize themselves as they will. They may make and unmake their officials. Some commonwealths have chosen to break with the tradition of kingship. Some have tried every form of military dictatorship and civil despotism; they have experimented with oligarchies, autocracies, and aristocracies. At times they have tried every form of government in swift succession. Possibly it is a wise thing that we should not cast our forms of national life in so rigid a mould. But in any case nobody would be bold enough to predict that this or that office in the commonwealth is final and permanent; and may not be modified if society so decides. You remember Mr. William Watson’s fine lines:

The seasons change, the winds they shift and veer;

The grass of yesteryear

Is dead; the birds depart, the groves decay;

Empires dissolve, and peoples disappear:

Song passes not away.

Captains and conquerors leave a little dust

And Kings a dubious legend of their reign;

The swords of Cesar they are less than rust;

The Poet doth remain."

Suppose Watson had said, the prophet rather than the poet? For the prophet is of older and nobler lineage, and his order includes all the children of inspiration whether they have kindled the soul of the world by speech or song. And I repeat, as society cannot commission a man to be a poet, even so it is beyond the authority of any state however powerful to create the prophet; aye, or to make his message false or barren, no matter how governors may growl, and throned iniquities fulminate. No human authority can credit or discredit his words. His credentials are of superior authenticity. Let me state the position I propose to occupy in these lectures once for all, and at its highest. The preacher, who is the messenger of God, is the real master of society; not elected by society to be its ruler, but elect of God to form its ideals and through them to guide and rule its life. Show me the man who, in the midst of a community however secularized in manners, can compel it to think with him, can kindle its enthusiasm, revive its faith, cleanse its passions, purify its ambitions, and give steadfastness to its will, and I will show you the real master of society, no matter what party may nominally hold the reins of government, no matter what figurehead may occupy the ostensible place of authority.

Nor is the office of the preacher in the smallest danger of lapsing for lack of candidates. Our embarrassment arises from riches not from poverty. Today everybody will preach to us and at us, whatever qualifications for the function they may have or lack. Never was this old world sown so thick with pulpits. Never was heard in it such superabundance of gospels. Who that has ever read a modem newspaper will affirm again that the dogmatist is dead! Creeds jostle one another in the market-place and in the drawing-room; and their often harsh and hoarse prophets and prophetesses announce salvation and denounce judgment quite in the orthodox style. Hot-gospellers today are a prolific race; and some of the beliefs for which they woo and win converts speak volumes for the credulity of mankind.

It is astonishing what eagerness there is in our time to enter into competition with the conventional and orthodox pulpit, and to usurp its functions in dealing with the big human problems. Now it is the dramatist who is not content until he has converted the stage into a pulpit; now it is the journalist seeking to charm the public ear with some message that he believes to be vital to the common well-being; now it is the Socialist agitator, on his soap-box rostrum at the street-comer, making capital out of the inconsistencies and hypocrisies of society, quite in the old prophet strain; now it is the novelist marshalling the forces of experience and imagination, and training all his guns on some citadel of real or fancied wrong; now it is the statesman converting the platform of political expediency into the pulpit of eternal principle; now it is the poet, or the prose essayist, setting our highest and wisest dreams of good to music and lifting up the eyes of fallible human nature to the hills whence cometh its strength. It must sometimes appear to us that humanity is a long-suffering, much-lectured creature, and that not we of the churches only but journalists, artists, politicians, novelists, playwrights conceive their fellow-men and women as sitting in pews, patient and defenseless, at the mercy of every would-be exhorter who has discovered that they are not so