IS NAMBY-PAMBY CHRISTIAN ?
THE Archbishop of York is a sensible man, but like many other sensible men, he evidently has a secret persuasion that Namby-Pamby is essentially Christian ; else why should he, at the Church Conference at Sheffield, insist twice within the compass of the very few words he addressed to it on its opening, on the duty of expressing freely the members' various opinions, but " expressing them in love," or " speaking the truth in love," as ho (phrased it again in another minute? Would he have said this in his place in the House of Lords to his brother Peers ? Even there, doubtless, he might have commented with regret on the malignant spirit of a bitter speech, even if it were a friend's, or with pleasure on the charitable spirit of a generous speech, even if it were an opponent's ; but he certainly would not have exhorted Lord Derby " to speak the truth in love," nor have found fault with Lord Westbury or Lord Cairns for not "speaking the truth in love." He would have felt instinctively that in the House of Lords that would have been bad taste, namby-pamby in an assembly which heartily despises nambypamby,—and this, too, though in opinion the House of Lords is probably much more orthodox than the House of Commons. Again, would Professor Oven ever dream of entreating Professor Huxley to speak the truth " in love," or would Sir Roderick Murchison entreat Sir Samuel Baker to do so in arguing on an expedition to search for Livingstone ? But in a Church Conference it is felt that namby-pamby is exactly in place. And yet the Archbishop did not in the least expect his archdeacons, vicars, and curates to speak the truth in hate ; and if he did, he is far too much of a man of the world to imagine that the cut-and-dried exhortation to "speak the truth in love" would prevent it. He knows that an appeal to the fairness and manliness of Englishmen, their love of liberty, and their respect for earnest independence, would do a great deal more to prevent any malignity in theological debate than such a formula as that.
But somehow, — and it is one of the worst signs for the Christianity of the day, — Englishmen, when they have got together for a religious purpose, have got accustomed to expect what we cannot help calling spiritual soft-sawder, namby-pamby expressions, in fact, which have a soft sound as of dove-like hearts making a good deal of parade of their dovishness, but of no particular meaning. It has come to be thought, in a technical sense, apostolic to affect great fear of hurting anybody's feelings by announcing your belief honestly and without any very special reference to whether what you say is quite in consonance with the views of others or not. Yet nothing is a more gross caricature of the actual modes of the Apostles' thought and teaching. St. Paul, when he bursts out with "() foolish Galatians, who bath bewitched you?" or asks the Corinthians if he is to come to them "with a rod," certainly was not so very anxious to silver his words with a coating of superficial sugar as our modern Churchmen. Doubtless the apostolic writings do contain frequently enough expressions like "dearly beloved" here and there,—though mingled with the sharpest criticism,—expressions which perfectly expressed that profound and absolute devotion to the interests of their converts by which the Early Church grew. But in writings by authors at a distance, and profoundly anxious about the progress of theirwork, such expressions of feeling are thoroughly natural. But we see no sign at all of this " goody " overexpression in the speeches of the Apostles as they are reported to us. Read St. Peter's speeches in the Acta of the Apostles, or St. Paul's on Mars' Hill or before Agrippa, or even his pathetic speech
at Miletus, in taking leave of the Ephesian Church on his last journey to Jerusalem,—and there is not a word of spiritual soft-sawder, not an expression of sentimental softness in any of them. The Apostles were all a great deal too eager in what they were about to suppose that a word or two of conviction which were likely to be unpleasant
or to give accidental offence would cause so very great a calamity that they must always guard every word of truth by the assurance that it was said " in. love." People don't usually take offence at words which evidently come from the speaker's inmost convictions, whether they are professedly pronounced " in love " or not. Men are much more likely to take offence when there is so much of the expression of love in what is said that there is very little room left for the truth at all,—for. then it is pretty clear that the truth is a very subordinate matter, and, like all subordinate matter, bass not enough weight in itself to make us overlook trivial expressions of a jarring character.
The truth is that the spiritual bleating about love, of which we hear so much at English religious meetings, is a mere mode of disguising weak convictions and a want of interest in the whole matter. When Dr. Newman once said that he should be much more hopeful of the people-of England if there were a great deal more bigotry and gloom mid violence of feeling on religious subjects than there then was, not that he approved of these states of mind, but that he thought them far better than amiable indifference, he was thought to have said something very shocking ; and certainly we, for our parts, do not mean to recommend hate of your opponent as a more Christian alternative than even bland talk of love for him. But we do seriously think that this moral gourmandise in dwelling upon Christian love is far from a sure sign of the existence of that charity which " never faileth," but " believeth all things, hopeth all things, eudureth all things."' No one would preface his explanation of belief to men whom he really loved and honoured by this sort of palaver. Depend upon it that those who want to persuade the rest of the world that they are straining every nerve to prevent giving their fellow-creatures one needless unpleasant sensation, will never be given credit for much of that downright self-denial on behalf of those fellow-creatures which is the only real test of Christian love. If Christianity were really the namby-pamby sort of thing that could not breathe a word of manly conviction without diluting it with this socalled "love," it would soon be no more heard of. Yet it is impossible to conceive any two things more completely opposite than true Christianity and religious namby-pamby. For it is of the very essence of the mellifluous moral secretion which we vainly try to describe under this term, that it always blurs the edges of every distinct thought and feeling with a half apology for its not being something else. If the devotee of namby-pamby is, or ought to be, telling his theological belief, he steeps it in such a mist of tears for its necessary divergence from somebody's else's theological belief, that you can hardly tell clearly what he does think at all. lf, on the other baud, he is, or ought to be, declaring his condemnation of evil, he is in such a flutter to insist that he distinguishes between the sin and the sinner, that his condemnation is dissipated iu a flood of amiable pity. If he wants, on the other hand, to express his approbation or agreement with another of more decisive mind, he is so nervous lest he should go too far and commit himself to something positive, that he guards himself by ' hedging' till his sympathy becomes completely valueless, even if it be certain that any sympathy remains. In a word, the essence of religious namby-pamby is to evade being anything in particular, from a misty idea that it is very Christian to be nothing in particular ;—that Christianity consists in watering liberally every definite state of mind with its opposite, saying that you love dearly the people you are going to rebuke, that you see much to rebuke in the people whom you love dearly, that the sword of the Spirit is a capital thing to brandish in the air, but should never be really used,—as if " the whole creation travailed until now" with such exquisite anguish that it becomes a Christian to administer chloroform to it and soothe its pangs.
The idea that it is a Christian sort of thing to be gelatinous and without distinctly-marked characteristics, that twaddle with a pious sound is a great deal mire pious than strong convictions which anybody with a head must either accept or reject, and cannot get confused about, rests, we suppose, if on anything but weakness of character, on that language of our Lord's about God's having hid from the wise and prudent what He had revealed unto babes, and St. Paul's about " milk for babes," and God's having caused the foolish things of this world to confound the wise. But really nothing can be more distinct than the milk of babes and the farinaceous messes of our namby-pamby religion. If anything is clear in the world, it is that Christianity,—which means Christ,—separated in the sharpest way the good and evil, the true and false, the bitter and sweet elements which were fermenting together, and gave the world new principles of discrimination and combination. There was nothing of the modern namby-pamby, either in the ' Woe unto you, scribes and Phariseea, hypocrites P or in the . rebuke to St. Peter, Get thee behind me, Satan : for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men.' There was nothing of the modern namby-pamby iu St. Paul's avowal that he had withstood Peter to the face, and had never ceded a single iota of his own authority to.those that seemed to be pillars ;' nor in the denunciation ofthe Laodiceans for being neither hot nor cold, nor indeed in any single clause of any single verse in the New Testament. The perfect simplicity and energy of the Gospel are its greatest characteristics. Absence of simplicity and energy, composite indistinctness, and faintly beating pulses, are the chief characteristics of modern religious nambypambyism. If there be modesty and lowliness in mixing up everything together,—and, therefore, mastering no one Christian conviction or emotion distinctly, then the jargon which talks so much of speaking the truth in love' and such like phrases may be modest and lowly ; but such modesty and lowliness is just the opposite of what is childlike. Nothing is less childlike than to fringe the expressions of direct feelings and thoughts with. phrases-of ornamental piety which effectually disguise the want of explicitness in those feelings and thoughts. It is in the wisdom of the heart that Christianity is childlike, and nothing is less like the wisdom of the heart than this elaborate religiousness in all aspects of your subject which are not uppermost, and which demand no clear language, by way of excusing yourself from the need for giving vigorous and iucid ex.pression to that side of faith which is uppermost, and does demand clear language. It is-one of the greatest faults of the Bishops. of our English Church that, more than any other religious leaders, they indulge in these flabby excuses for not leading,—more than Roman Catholic Bishops, more than eminent Dissenters, either heterodox or orthodox. Compare Mr. Dale's powerful address to the Congregationalists, or Mr. Martineaa's to the Unitarians with most of our episcopal charges, and we shall see at once how large the element of mere syrup is in the latter. It is a fatal mistake. When we read Bishop Butler, we find the only evidence that he speaks the truth "in love" in the self-evident fact that he loves the truth with his whole heart, and lets us• see it. Our modern Bishops are too apt to prepare syrup of Truth, which is not truth at all, and, what is worse, is not sweet after the first honey flavour, —for it is sure to turn sour on the stomach.
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