2018

ON COLLECTIONS IN PLACES OF DIVINE WORSHIP.

So long as Old Humphrey is content to scribble about his own infirmities, to relate whimsical occurrences, or even to generalize on the errors of mankind, he is not likely to offend many of his readers; but when he sets up an individual error as a target to fire at, and takes a steady aim, he runs some risk of making himself enemies.

Now it so happens that I have been taking myself to task rather sharply, in a matter that is to my reproach; and, possibly, I may be killing two birds with one stone, if I repeat to you the substance of what I have already said to myself. You see I take it for granted that you may be as faulty as I am.

But should it so happen that you are altogether free from error in this particular case, you may make my remarks useful in applying them to any other error into which you may have fallen. man who has no wart on his finger, may have a

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corn on his toe; he may be all right in the head, yet be somewhat unsound in the heart; he may be altogether free from one disease, and yet require a little medicine for another.

This last remark about medicine serves to remind me how often, in the course of my life, I have made a bitter draught more nauseous by pulling a wry face and increasing my antipathy against it, when by taking it cheerfully and unhesitatingly, I might have spared myself great annoyance. Do not you, on the present occasion, follow my bad example.

Notwithstanding the large sums of money which are sometimes collected by Christian congregations, and the instances that occur of individual liberality, there are few occasions on which niggardliness is more generally manifested than in collections for the support of the gospel. Without indulging in uncharitable remarks, common observation is enough to convince us of the fact, that to evade a collection, or to contribute to it the least possible sum that decency will admit, is a common practice among professedly Christian people.

This niggardly acknowledgment, or rather this practical denial, of our attachment to Divine things, is accompanied with so little consciousness of shame, that even disguise, in many cases, is

not resorted to: surely this infirmity ought to bring a blush on our cheeks.

When do any of us, in our pleasures, in our journeys, in our visits, in the reception of our friends, or in the purchase of any article of dress, make the same hesitation in the expenditure of a half-crown or a shilling, as we do in the case of a collection? And is, after all, the ever-blessed gospel of truth, with all its consolations for time, and its glorious hopes for eternity, a thing of so little consequence with us as to be weighed in the balances against a shilling? Christians! Christians! let us take the matter more to heart, and not thus acknowledge to ourselves, and proclaim to others, what a trifling value we put upon the gospel.

The celebrated Dr. Franklin, it is said, was once listening to a sermon when he expected there would be a collection. His mind, however, was made up not to give a single farthing. He had in his pocket at the time five pistoles in gold, three or four silver dollars, beside a handful of copper money.

As the minister proceeded in his discourse, the doctor began to relent, and thought to himself that he might as well part with his copper. Soon after this he was so much affected by what fell from the minister's lips, that he considered his

copper would be too small an offering; his silver dollars were thus placed in a dangerous position. On went the minister, and in so eloquent and persuasive a manner, that by the time he had finished, the doctor was determined to do all he could for the cause which had been so ably advocated, so he poured into the collector's dish the contents of his pocket, copper money, silver dollars, and golden pistoles all together.

I cannot tell whether, in the instance I have related, Dr. Franklin was moved to act in the way he did because his judgment was convinced, or because his feelings were excited; but this I do know, that both our judgment and our affections, too, ought to prompt us to support the cause of the gospel. Now let me come a little closer to you in my remarks.

Did you never, when preparing to set out for the house of God, in recollecting that a charity sermon, or a collection, was appointed for that day, suddenly feel an unusual desire to be profited by the ministry of some servant of the Most High, whom you had never heard, and who preached in a place of worship that you had never before entered?

Did you never actually, on such an occasion, "go farther, and fare worse" than you would have done in hearing your own minister, returning

home more than half dissatisfied with yourself for the course you had taken?

Did you never, after putting yourself to much inconvenience to avoid one collection, stumble upon another, giving your money grudgingly, and resolving never again to be caught by a trap of your own baiting?

Did you never, after having made up your mind to give a certain sum, settle down into the prudential belief that half the amount would be more consistent with your circumstances?

Did you never, after having been wrought up to unwonted liberality by the affectionate earnestness and pious fervour of a Christian minister, cool in your resolvings, approaching the plate shorn of your strength, and giving merely as another man?

Did you never fumble in your pocket before a collection, holding in your hand a half-crown and a shilling, or a shilling and a sixpence, prepared to give the larger or the lesser coin at the door as circumstances might determine?

Did you never give, to secure the good opinion of the plate-holder, what you would not have given to the advocated cause? In one word, have you, or have you not, over and over again, given that gladly to a human being, which you would have given grudgingly to God?