The world in the eighteenth century was relatively prosperous as far as material things were concerned. It was an age of scientific discovery and commercial development. These advantages were enjoyed by the few; the masses still remained, to a large degree, in poverty and ignorance. It was an era of comparative peace; wars there were, but they were fought mainly by professional soldiers, and until the French Revolution, there was no widespread desolation as in the previous century.
The great revival of the sixteenth century had spent its force; the Puritan fervor of the previous century had cooled down. Like the Church of the fourth century, Protestantism had allied itself with the world till, as salt that has lost its savor, it no longer checked the growing corruption.
Rome was victorious on the Continent, though in Britain she had suffered complete eclipse. In Germany, many of the Lutherans had been won over. In Poland, she had almost vanquished Calvinism. She had achieved great success in Holland, while in Spain Rome was without a rival. In the New World, Romanism had spread like a fire; the Jesuits had been very successful in Canada. The magnificent churches of Central and South America testified to their progress there. The Indians of Mexico had become worshippers of the Virgin Mary. Rome was also vigorously pursuing her missionary work in China, India and Ceylon. Even the Eastern Church was being invaded, and the Russians in Poland bowed to the Pope, while retaining their ancient ritual. The Huguenots had been driven from France; the remnant which remained was being murdered, tortured, dragooned or enslaved. Efforts had been made indeed to restore the Romish Church to the somewhat purer standards of an earlier age and to limit the power of the Pope, but they had failed. Rome shared, too, in the general secularization of religion. A remark made by Louis XVI, after listening to a sermon by a popular Roman Catholic preacher of the day, gives a clue to the prevailing tone. “If the abbé had only said a little about Christianity, there is no subject he would have left untouched.” The Jesuits had become so powerful that they were suppressed in 1773 by Pope Clement XIV. Though dissolved as a corporation, they continued to exist as an underground organization and were revived in the next century.
In the Reformed Churches of Europe, terrible decay had set in, and Arianism and Deism had become rampant. The god of the Deists was the god of nature, not the God who had been declared by Christ. Revelation was denied, and with the denial Christianity itself was thrown overboard. Those who argued against the Deists argued from reason rather than Scripture. In trying to defeat the Deist on his own ground, instead of relying on the Word of God, which “is quick [living], and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword” (Heb. 4:1212For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)), the Christian apologists used human reason as their weapon. The mind of man was made the sole arbiter in matters which are outside its range. The Deists were aggressive; they attacked not only the Old Testament, but every vital element in Christianity. This enthronement of the human mind has given to the eighteenth century the title of the Age of Reason. A tree, said the Lord, is known by its fruit, and if the Age of Reason is judged by this simple and unerring test, it stands condemned as a corrupt tree. This philosophy and vain deceit, which began in England, spread to the Continent, where it worked like a fungus amid the decaying corpse of Protestantism. In Spain these ideas were suppressed by the Inquisition and in France by the government, but they spread underground and were one of the potent causes of the French Revolution. It has been said that it was these ideas working like a ferment in the minds of men —rather than the poverty of the people — which gave rise to the beginnings of that great upheaval. It is significant that, at the time of the Revolution, a girl was enthroned as the goddess of reason and accorded divine honors. Thus did the century of reason demonstrate its impious folly.
Christianity was mocked and ridiculed everywhere; skepticism reigned almost supreme. Theology was permeated with rationalistic ideas. Arianism and Socinianism were prevalent, particularly among the dissenting bodies, and many Non-Conformist congregations became Unitarian churches.
The Church of England shared in the general deadness. Many churches were only open a few hours a week, and Holy Communion, in some places, only took place a few times a year. Worship consisted of the recitation of prayer book formulas, while preachers were more concerned to answer the rationalists than preach the gospel, if indeed they were able to preach it. The aim of many was to appear learned and eloquent and to gain the approval of the educated among their hearers. Many others were lazy and devoted to pleasure, and many were given to drink. The old evil of plurality of livings still obtained. Rivalry between Whigs and Tories made the Church the sport of political interests. Bishops were appointed by the party in power and thus became subservient to the politicians. Moreover, they angled for the most remunerative posts, and the wealth of the bishops was a byword. The Anglican Church became a department of the Civil Service.
Blackstone, who made a round of the London churches, says the sermons were devoid of Christianity. Bishop Butler, speaking in the middle of the eighteenth century, said, “It is impossible for me, my brethren, to forbear lamenting with you the general decay of religion in this nation, which is now observed by everyone and has been for some time the complaint of all serious persons. The influence of it is more and more wearing out the minds of men, even of those who do not pretend to enter into speculations upon the subject, but the number of those who do and profess themselves unbelievers, increases and with their number, their zeal — zeal, it is natural to ask, for what? Why, truly for nothing, but against everything that is good and sacred among us.”
The general standards of morality were very low in the Age of Reason. Crime was rampant in England, ruffians frequented the streets, and it was positively dangerous to walk abroad at night. Highway robbery was frequent. The law exerted its severity in vain to suppress evil. Death was the penalty for a hundred different crimes, the prisons were full, executions were frequent, and excited crowds gathered to witness the deaths of those who swung upon the gallows. Gambling was indulged in by all classes. Gin drinking had become a national vice. One-eighth of the population were addicted to it and a tenth were engaged in selling it. Cockfights, bull-baiting and other cruel sports testify to the degraded taste of the population. The slave trade was at its height, and fortunes were accumulated at the expense of the blood and sweat of the hapless Negroes — men, women and children who were dragged from their native villages, packed like cattle in slave ships and sold into servitude wherein they were often treated with horrid cruelty.
Such were the fruits of the Age of Reason, an age which had inherited the glorious truths of the Reformation, which had the open Bible in its possession, but which had turned away from the light of Christianity to the darkness of atheism. Did it deserve any better fate than Sodom and Gomorrah? God, however, had not forgotten the world, if it had forgotten Him. Instead of pouring out judgment upon it, He opened the windows of heaven and poured out such an abundant blessing that faith and piety sprang up in this barren scene like the fresh growth from a parched land after a plentiful rain.
The gospel revival of the eighteenth century in Britain is one of the most remarkable in the history of Christianity. It bears the unmistakable marks of a sovereign operation of the Holy Spirit. Faithful and devoted men, whose names today are honored by Christians everywhere and to whom the world itself has rendered its tribute of recognition, claim our attention. They were the instruments God used — for it is God’s pleasure to work through men — but let us not forget that the power was divine. Let us give the glory to God who first formed the servants, fitted them for their task and endowed them with the power of His Holy Spirit.
If it was in Britain and North America that the gospel light shone most brilliantly at this epoch, it was not confined to these parts. On the Continent, a slow, silent work of revival had been going on since the previous century, which found expression in Pietism. This movement antedated the great revival in Britain but influenced it by means of the Moravians, who followed the Pietists.