The Christian World Unmasked

This work is republished from a recent
Edinburgh edition. Some words and phrases,
on account of their excessive quaintness or lack
of dignity, have been expunged; and a few
paragraphs containing irrelevant matter have
been omitted.

It will be observed that many passages of
Scripture are not quoted verhatim; but, as
the words added or substituted arc generally
intended to be paraphrastic or expository, it
has been thought best to leave them unaltered.

The author handles the word of God, not deceitfully, but skilfully, giving the sense of the sacred text with peculiar clearness and force. In a treatise less colloquial in style, his method of citation might he objectionable; but here it will be admired as an excellence. This facility in the use of Scripture is said to have given a special charm to his preaching.

To the Memoir furnished by Dr. Guthrie, is
appended a striking notice of Berridge as
a man and a preacher, from an article in
the North British Review, giving an eloquent
account of the men to whom the cause of evangelical religion in England was principally
indebted, in the middle of the last century.

John Berridge, the author of this book, along with some others of his clay, the salt of the Ciiiirch of England, and an instrument in God’s hand of working revivals of religion within her )ale worthy of record with those that his compeers Whitefield and Wesley wrought without her. He was born in 1716, but not born again till he had entered the ministry. His studies were carried on at Cambridge, where he gave early proof of his native energy, and that what he did, as was said by an old woman of Dr. Chalmers, he did with all his heart. At that seat of learning, where he gained the honors and emoluments of a Fellowship, he passed for many years fifteen hours a day in hard study, ranging over all the fields of knowledge, and strengthening by such vigorous exercise faculties of no ordinary power. Clare College at length presented him to the charge of Everton in Bedfordshire, where he labored as few men have done, till his death, in 1793. In a short but most graphic sketch of our author, Dr. Hamilton, of London, thus relates the very quiet but remarkable way in which the Holy Spirit brought him to a saving knowledge of the truth: — “Hi.s success was small — so small that he began to suspect his mode was wrong. After prayer for light, it was one day borne in upon his mind — ‘Cease from thine own works, only believe; ’ and, consulting his concordance, he was surprised to see how many columns were required for the words Faith and Believe. Through this quaint inlet he found his way into the knowledge of the Gospel, and the consequent love of the Saviour; and though hampered with academic standing, and past the prime of life, he did not hesitate for a moment to reverse his former preaching, and the efficiency of ttie cross was soon seen in his altered parish.” Nor were his labors confined to his parish now. He was not content with his O’ww preserve. Not the man to stand by and see others beyond the parochial boundary perishing for lack of knowledge, he flung himself, heart and soul, into the very thick of the movement then being made by Lady Huntingdon, Venn, Grimshawe, Wesley, Whitefield, and others, to awaken England from its sleep of death; and never but on one occasion did he allow consequences, personal, pecuniary, or ecclesiastical, to turn him a hairbreadth from the path of duty. We record it as an example of how God may ordain strength out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, and by the weak things of the church confound the strong: — One day, during the period of his itinerancy, he had occasion to pass through a town where he had often met the scoffs and taunts of the ungodly; but instead of riding through the main street, h” turned through a bye-way to avoid the profane people who were in the streets. Here he was met by a pig-driver, who immediately addressed him, and said — ‘You cowardly John Berridge, you are ashamed of your Master, and therefore you skulk along here to avoid the cross.’ This incident, he said, was of incalculable benefit to him; it spoke with effect to his heart, and he became more and more determined not to be moved in bold confession of Christ.” That solitary occasion which found Berridge skulking down a bye lane to escape the insolence of the mob, but stands as a foil to the bravery with which he faced his bishop, armed with all the powers of the church to crush him. Fortunately Berridge has left this scene painted by his own hand: — Soon after I began to preach the Gospel at Everton — says Mr. Berridge — the churches in the neighborhood were deserted, and mine so overcrowded, that the ‘squire, who ’ did not like strangers,’ he said, ’ and hated to be incommoded,’ joined with the offended parsons, 4xnd soon after, a complaint having been made against me, I was

summoned before the biliop. ‘Well, Berridge, — said his lordship, — did I institute you to Eaton or Potton? Why do you go preaching out of your own parish?” My lord — said I, — I make no claim to the livings of those parishes. Tis true I was once at Eaton, and, finding a few poor people assembled, I admonished them to repent of their sins, and to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ for the salvation of their souls. At that very moment, my lord, there were five or six clergymen out of their own parishes, and enjoying themselves on the Eaton bowling-green.” I tell you — retorted his lordship, — that if you continue preaching where you have no right, you will very likely be sent to Huntingdon goal.” I have no more regard, my lord, for a goal than other folks — rejoined I, — but I had rather go there with a good conscience, than be at liberty without one.’ His lordship looked very hard at me. ‘Poor fellow! — said he, — you are beside yourself, and in a few months you will either be better or worse.” Then, my lord — said I, — you may make yourself quite happy in this business; for if I should be better, you suppose I shall desist of my own accord y and if worse, you need not send me to Huntingdon goal, for I shall be better accommodated in Bedlam.’ His lordship then pathetically entreated me, as one who had been and wished to continue my friend, not to embitter the remaining portion of his days by any squabbles with my brother clergymen, but to go home to my parish, and so long as I kept within it I should be at liberty to do what I liked there. ‘As to your conscience — said his lordship, — you know that preaching out of your parish is contrary to the canons of the Church.” There is one canon, my lord — said I, — which I dare not disobey, and that says, ‘Go preach the Gospel to EYERY CREATURE.’ “It is worthy of notice that God raised up friends in unexpected quarters to shield this faithful servant. The great Lord Chatham came from the helm of the nation to stand between him and ruin; while the Lord Chancellor of England also was moved by Lady Huntingdon to leave the Woolsack and come to the rescue of the Vicar of Everton. In allusion to that circumstance, Grimshawe thus pithily and pathetically writes: — “May the Lord eternally bless that dear, good, honorable Lady Huntingdon, who would defend a persecuted minister of Christ to the last gown on her back, and the last shilling in her pocket.”

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