THE Yorkshire, Lancashire and Cheshire Baptist Associations are now holding a joint meeting in this city of Rochdale. The Yorkshire Association was organized in 1787, and covered at that time all the territory that is now embraced within the three Associations above named, the division having occurred by common consent in 1837. This is therefore the centennial year for the Yorkshire, and the semi-centennial year for the Lancashire and Cheshire Associations.

This is also the English Jubilee year, being the fiftieth year of the reign of Queen Victoria. Hence this meeting is called “The Baptist Centennial and Jubilee Celebration.” It is said to be the grandest Baptist meeting ever held in England. It represents the brains and culture of our denomination in this country.

They are more formal in their methods of conducting the business of the body than is customary among American Baptists. The program is made out and printed beforehand. The speeches are all “cut and dried.” The moderator asks a particular man to make a certain motion, and then specifies another one and asks him to second the motion. The present meeting is mainly taken up with historical and biographical discussions.

As a rule, the delegates are men of fine natural powers and scholarly attainments. Most of them are fluent speakers, though very few of their number can be called eloquent or even forcible. It is natural that on this occasion the speakers should indulge freely in self gratulations. They are proud of their history, and especially of their ancestors who made their history. And well they may be. Their ancestors were men of backbone, of nerve and stamina! Unlike many men of the present day, they believe something! Their convictions were deep, strong, pungent! Their convictions were strong enough to lead them to the stake. And then they had the courage of their convictions. They were not ashamed to let the world know what they believed.

In some respects, I regard the present Baptists of England as unworthy sons of their distinguished ancestors. They boast of their progress, of their broad sympathies, and liberal views; that they have gotten away from the bones of theology to the gospel of Christ; that they no longer preach of God’s avenging wrath, but rather of His forgiving mercy. These English Baptists are good men, and they preach the gospel as far as they go; but they do not go far enough. Jehovah is a God of justice as well as of mercy. A body of theology without bones is as useless as a human body without bones. They seem to be sadly lacking in that deep, heart-felt conviction, and in that sturdy, lion-like courage which immortalized their forefathers. They have well-nigh ceased to preach our distinctive doctrines as Baptists, and God, I believe, as a consequence, is withholding His blessings from them. Within the bounds of these three Associations, live more than one-fourth of the population of England, and yet the Associations report only 34,000 members. A church may believe and practice whatever she pleases as to communion (and other things too, I suppose), and still secure or retain membership in any of these Associations.

The leading features of the meeting are as follows: An address on “Reminiscences of Associational Teachers in 1837,” by Rev. John Aldis; the Centennial Sermon, by Dr. Alexander Maclaren, and an address on “Sunday Schools,” by the Right Hon. John Bright, Member of Parliament.

Mr. Aldis is a remarkable man. He has been in the ministry sixty years, and still retains much of the strength and enthusiasm of youth. Possessing such splendid gifts, and having been so long connected with the Associations, there is no man living better able to perform the task assigned to him than the venerable John Aldis. The address is a model of condensation. The speaker was almost as laconic as the tramp who called, late one evening, at a country residence, and said to the lady of the house: “Madam, will you please give me a drink of water? I am so hungry I don’t know where I am going to sleep to-night.” I wonder that one can say so much in so short a time. There is scarcely a superfluous word from beginning to end. It is marked, too, by great literary excellence, and contains some delightful bits of character sketches.

Doctor Maclaren is at his best. I doubt whether he ever preached a better sermon than the one he delivers at this meeting. He warns his brethren that there is danger ahead, that false theories are creeping into their creeds, that it will never do to cut loose from the “old moorings.” He says in substance: “Brethren, the cold winds from the icy caves of Socinianism are chilling our blood and benumbing our limbs. We boast of becoming liberal-minded and broad. We should not forget, however, that broad streams are shallow, and that narrow ones are deep. Their currents are apt to be swift enough to cut up the mud and wash out the riff-raff from the channel, leaving a smooth, solid rock bed. God’s Word may lead us into deep water, but it will never leave us without a solid foundation. There is such a thing as being broader than wise, and wiser than good.” For more than an hour his audience of three thousand persons is under his magic power. At times they are breathless. The Doctor plays upon the fibres of men’s hearts like a skillful musician upon the strings of his harp. He strikes any chord—every chord—he pleases. The audience can neither resist laughter nor suppress tears. Every heart is pierced by the orator’s fiery glance, and thrilled by his matchless eloquence. As Goethe said of Herder, “He preaches like a God.”

The enthusiasm of the meeting reaches its zenith Wednesday afternoon, when the Right Hon. John Bright delivers an address on “Sunday-schools.” The excitement is simply intense. One round of applause follows another until the very walls of the building are made to ring with glad huzzas. Then those who can not gain entrance to the immense hall take up the cry, and send it ringing through the streets of the city. The excitement really becomes painful. Mr. Bright is quite old and feeble—his head is white as cotton, still he is a perfect master of assemblies. As an orator, he is much after the style of the late Brooklyn divine.

One touching incident must be related. Mr. Bright stands before the audience motionless, until silence is restored. He then calls Mr. Aldis to him. As the two venerable men stand side by side facing the audience, with their hands on each other’s shoulders, Mr. Bright relates the following incident: “I first met Mr. Aldis fifty-four years ago. We were then just entering upon the duties of life. On the day of our meeting, each of us delivered an address to a large assembly. Mr. Aldis was my senior. He spoke first, and I second. After the speaking was over, he took me to one side. He said that he saw in me powers that should be developed. He told me how to develop those powers. In a word, he lectured me on public speaking. This, ladies and gentlemen, was my first and last lesson in elocution.” Then, turning to his old teacher, he continued: “Mr. Aldis, if I have accomplished anything in life, and especially as a public speaker, it is due, at least in part, to your kindly counsels. We met first fifty-four years ago; this is our second meeting; our third will be in Heaven.”

The meeting has just closed. It was an unequivocal success. The arrangements were simply perfect. No weak plank was put in the platform. Every speaker was true and tried, and everything passed off with an eclat that is pleasing to contemplate. A daily paper, in speaking of the meeting, says: “The Baptists were seen at their best, and they are justly proud that it was a very good best.”

These English Baptists have been exceedingly kind and courteous to me. I was entertained by Hon. John S. Hudson, Mayor of the city. It seemed that Mr. Hudson and family could not do enough for their American guest. Their kindness will never be forgotten.