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The Sheepfold and the Common; Or, Within and Without. Vol. 2 (of 2)

by Timothy East · English · Gutenberg #44769 · 1,268,096 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Sheepfold and the Common; Or, Within and Without. Vol. 2 (of 2)

Author: Timothy East


        
Release date: January 27, 2014 [eBook #44769]
                Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHEEPFOLD AND THE COMMON; OR, WITHIN AND WITHOUT. VOL. 2 (OF 2) ***

Transcriber's note:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).

Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.

       *       *       *       *       *


[Illustration: J. GODWIN.

W. L. THOMAS

THE FARM-HOUSE KITCHEN.

Vol. ii. page 286.]




THE SHEEPFOLD AND THE COMMON




[Illustration:

  the
  Sheepfold
  &
  THE COMMON,
  OR
  WITHIN & WITHOUT.

BLACKIE & SON · GLASGOW EDINBURGH, & LONDON.]




  THE

  SHEEPFOLD AND THE COMMON:

  OR,

  WITHIN AND WITHOUT.


  VOL. II.

  "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow
      me."--JOHN x. 27.

  "Them that are without God judgeth."--1 COR. v. 19.


[Illustration: publisher's mark]


  BLACKIE AND SON:
  GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON.

  MDCCCLXI.




  GLASGOW:
  W. G. BLACKIE AND CO., PRINTERS,
  VILLAFIELD.




CONTENTS.


VOL. II.

                                                   _Page_

  Old Rachel, the Blind Woman,                          1

  Diversity of Opinion Very Natural,                   18

  Union Without Compromise,                            37

  The Stage Coach,                                     52

  A Sabbath in London,                                 62

  The Sceptic's Visit,                                 76

  A Renewed Encounter,                                 94

  The Effect of a Word Spoken in Season,              108

  The Family of the Holmes,                           123

  A Misfortune often a Blessing in Disguise,          134

  Christian Experience,                               155

  Doubts and Perplexities,                            166

  Theatrical Amusements, Part I.,                     177

  Theatrical Amusements, Part II.,                    198

  Unitarianism Renounced,                             219

  The Path of Truth Forsaken,                         240

  The Fruits of Apostasy,                             261

  The Farm-House Kitchen,                             284

  A Party at the Elms,                                296

  Family Sketches,                                    311

  Amusements,                                         323

  The Unhappy Attachment,                             342

  A Sequel to the Foregoing,                          365

  The Village Chapel,                                 386

  Village Characters,                                 401

  The Pious Cottager,                                 422

  The Closing Scene of the Young Christian's Career,  431

  The Happy Marriage,                                 449

  An Old Friendship Revived,                          462

  The Wanderer's Return,                              474

  A Struggle for Life,                                493

  The Sceptic Reclaimed,                              504

  The Rector's Death-Bed,                             518

  The Rector's Funeral,                               529

  The New Rectors,                                    540

  A Secession at Broadhurst,                          551

  A Farewell to Old Friends,                          561

  Conclusion,                                         575




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

VOL. II.


                                                                    _Page_

  The Farm-House Kitchen,                                  _Frontispiece._

  A Contrast,                                            _Engraved Title._

  George III. and the Dying Gipsy,                                       7

  Mistaken Charity--Mr. Sykes's Theory Refuted,                         55

  Sabbath Pleasure-Seekers,                                             64

  The Conspiracy Defeated,                                             128

  The Mother's Hopes Blasted,                                          179

  Mr. Beaufoy's Emotion on receiving his Mother's Letter,              261

  Bringing in the Last Load of Corn--The Reapers' Hymn of Praise,      285

  Miss Holmes and Miss Martin taking leave of Mrs. Kent,               299

  First Meeting of Captain Orme and Emma Holmes,                       352

  Mr. Swinson assaulted by the Mob,                                    396

  The Bridal Party welcomed by the Villagers,                          456

  The Wanderer's Return,                                               480




THE SHEEPFOLD AND THE COMMON.

OLD RACHEL, THE BLIND WOMAN.


"And so I hear," said Mrs. Stevens to the Rector, when we were
spending an evening at his house, "that poor Old Rachel is dead. I
really thought she had died long since, as I have not heard anything
about her for a long time."

"Yes, Madam," replied Mr. Ingleby, "she is dead, and was buried
yesterday; she lies very near some of the finest of my flock."

"She must have lived to a great age, for she was an old woman when I
was but a little girl."

"She was, I believe, upwards of ninety, and for several years she
lived with some relatives in a state of almost entire seclusion.
I had quite lost sight of her, and it was owing to a very casual
circumstance that my acquaintance with her was renewed."

"How did you happen again to meet with her?"

"It was in this way. I required some one to weed my garden; and
hearing that there was an active clever woman residing at Street,
about two miles from the rectory, who was a good hand at such
work, I took a walk to find her. On reaching her house I knocked
at the door, but received no answer; and just as I was going away,
rather disappointed at having made a fruitless journey, a neighbour
stepped out of the adjoining cottage, and said, 'If, Sir, you
want Mrs. Jones, she has just gone out, but I will go and look for
her, if you will perhaps come in here, and rest yourself for a few
minutes.' I thanked her, and followed her into the house, where she
placed a chair for me, saying, as she left to go in search of Mrs.
Jones--'It's no use, Sir, to say nothing to my mother there; she is
quite blind, and so deaf, that she can't hear a word which nobody
says to her.' The person to whom she pointed sat in an arm-chair,
on the opposite side of the fire, wrapped up in flannel, her face
nearly concealed by her cap and bonnet, and as motionless as a
statue. I sat for a few moments in silence, and then, yielding to
a feeling of curiosity, and I would also hope to a better motive,
to endeavour to ascertain whether I could impart the soothing
influences of religious consolation to the seemingly inanimate
object that sat opposite to me, I arose, and placing my lips as
near her ear as possible, without touching her, said, audibly and
distinctly, 'You are very old.' No reply. This was followed by
several common-place questions--such as, 'What is your name?' 'Do
you want anything?' 'Are you in any pain?' These and other questions
I continued to repeat; but they produced no more effect on her than
they would have done on a log. 'Poor thing,' I exclaimed, 'it's no
use to try, as she is living out of my reach. The door of access
is locked, and the key lost.' I resumed my seat. My anxiety to
gain access to her mind increased in proportion to the apparent
impossibility of succeeding, and I made another effort. '_Do you
ever think about dying?_' There was a slight convulsive movement
of the hand, but this was no satisfactory proof that she heard
my question; however, it showed that the inner spirit was awake,
and might possibly be bringing itself to a listening attitude. I
then put the all-important question--'_Do you know anything about
Jesus Christ?_' Never shall I forget the effect of this question.
Her hands were suddenly raised, her arms extended, and her face
glowed with more than human radiance, and, in a tone of transport,
she exclaimed, 'What! is that my beloved pastor? It was under your
ministry I was brought to know Christ, and feel the preciousness of
his love.' This unanticipated exclamation astonished and delighted
me, especially when I recognized, by the sound of her voice, _Old
Rachel_. To all my questions relating to her secular condition and
wants, she was as insensible as though actually dead. I stood and
looked on her with joyous wonder, never having previously known
a similar case. I repeated question after question, but had no
response, till I asked, '_Is Christ precious to you?_' Her reply
was prompt and audible: _He is precious to my soul--my transport
and my trust._' The reply had an electrical effect on my spirit.
Marvellous! I never witnessed such a scene as this. I varied my
questions again and again; but there was no sign of hearing, or even
perceptible motion, though I took hold of her hand. It was as though
some angelic spirit kept watch, to prevent any thought relating
to earth or time from obtruding itself on her attention, now she
was waiting on the verge of the celestial world. One question
more, and all intercourse was over. '_Do you long to see Christ?_'
She instantly replied, '_My soul is in haste to be gone._' Again
she relapsed into her statue-like appearance, and in that state
continued till the return of her daughter with Mrs. Jones, after
transacting my business with whom, I took leave, and walked home,
musing on the history of Old Rachel, and resolving that I would soon
again pay her a visit."

"I should like," said Mrs. John Roscoe, "to have witnessed this
scene, and heard the retiring spirit thus appearing to bear
testimony to the more than magic power of the Saviour's name, and of
the preciousness of his love."

"And so, Madam, should I," said the Rev. Mr. Guion; "it would have
been to me like a voice speaking from another world, in confirmation
of the genuineness of our faith, which sees the invisible, and holds
conscious intercourse with Him, though we hear him not. I generally
find, that a singular ending is closely connected with a singular
origin, or a series of eventful occurrences. Can you favour us with
some account of her history?"

"Yes, Sir, I can, and it is both interesting and peculiar. I did not
know her till she was advanced in age, and had lost her sight; yet,
before I knew her, I had often heard her spoken of as an intelligent
woman, very fond of books, and remarkable for the neatness and
cleanliness of her person, and her regular and punctual attendance
at her parish church. When her sight failed her, she was compelled
to relinquish the school by which she had gained her livelihood; but
she was so much esteemed, that a good allowance was granted by the
parish, and this was augmented by weekly subscriptions from some
of the members of her church. On passing by her cottage one day, I
looked in to see her, though she was not one of my parishioners;
but as she had imbibed the Tractarian doctrines of her Rector, and
felt a strong repugnance to evangelical truth, I at once perceived
that my presence was more disagreeable than pleasing. I therefore
withdrew, not intending to repeat my visit until I had prepared her
to desire it. I soon hit upon a plan to accomplish this. The old
woman had a little favourite grand-daughter in my Sabbath-school,
and it occurred to me that I could employ her as the medium of
communication; and I commenced operations by giving her and lending
her some little books of anecdotes and descriptive stories. After
the lapse of several months, I gave her, as a reward for reading to
her grandmother, the sketch of the Rev. John Newton's conversion;
and this was followed by a tract on regeneration, with which the old
woman was so much pleased, that she requested the loan of another
on the same subject. No great while after reading this tract she
came to hear me preach, and soon became a regular attendant on my
ministry; and ere long she sent to say she should be glad if I would
call on her. I went; she apologized for her rudeness of manner on
my former visit, and excused herself by referring to the influence
which superstitious prejudices had acquired over her. From these
superstitions she hoped she was now rescued by the attractive power
of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

"When it was noised abroad that Rachel, the old blind woman, had
left the church, where Tractarian doctrines and ceremonies were the
theme of the Rector's ministrations, she received a visit from some
of her lady friends, who were very anxious to get her to return,
intimating that if she did, they would continue their subscriptions
towards her support, otherwise she must not expect to receive any
more favours from them. She heard all they chose to say, and thus
announced her final decision:--'I have, ladies, attended my parish
church for more than fifty years without getting any benefit to my
soul, but where I have been only a few Sabbaths I have heard and
felt the truth as it is in Jesus, and there I shall continue to go
as long as my feeble limbs will carry me. I thank you for all your
acts of liberality and kindness to me, but I cannot barter away
my freedom, and run the risk of losing my soul. I must live free,
though in poverty; and my salvation is now the one thing I value
above all price.' She continued for several years both regular
and punctual in her attendance on my ministry, but at length was
compelled, by increasing infirmities, to give up her house and go to
reside with a married daughter. Years rolled on--the grand-daughter
had left my school--the cottage where the old woman had resided was
occupied by another--she gradually faded from my recollection, and
in process of time I had quite forgot her."

"I used," said Mrs. Stevens, "to see her, with her grand-daughter
leading her, coming to church and going from it; but she sat in some
pew which concealed her from my sight when in the church."

"She was, Madam, one of the most retiring women I ever knew; she had
a great objection to be seen, as she knew her conversion and her
leaving the ministry of her former Rector had excited a good deal of
talk."

"The circumstances attending her conversion to the faith of
Christ," observed the Rev. Mr. Guion, "is an evident proof of its
genuineness, and of its having been effected by the Holy Spirit;
otherwise it would have been impossible for you to have gained her
over to the reception of salvation by grace through faith, as she
was so self-satisfied with her own Tractarian delusions, and so much
under the power of the active agents of the same fatal heresy."

"I must confess that no event in my long pastoral career ever gave
me more real pleasure, or excited purer emotions of gratitude to my
Divine Master, than being allowed to witness the termination of her
course--so unexpected, and so novel."

"I have known," said the Rev. Mr. Guion, "some delivered from their
terrors and misgivings, just prior to their departure, who have been
in bondage all their life, through fear of death, and then they have
felt even a transport of joy in anticipation of the end of their
faith, but I have never known a case like this of Old Rachel."

"I recollect," said Mr. Roscoe, "reading in the _Times_, some
years ago, the report of a case bearing a strong resemblance to
it in some of its distinctive peculiarities. Mr. M----, of -----,
who had through a very lengthened course distinguished himself by
his activity in secular life, and by his practical piety, when
drawing near his latter end, appeared quite indifferent, if not
positively insensible, to everything bearing a relation to earth,
though surrounded by its wealth and honours; but even then he gave
unmistakeable signs to his pious relatives, that he was filled with
all joy and peace in believing, abounding in hope, through the power
of the Holy Ghost."[1]

  [1] In reply to an application which the author recently made in
  reference to this case, an intelligent son of this eminent Christian
  requests that the name of the deceased may be suppressed, saying,
  at the close of his letter--"The prayer of my dearest father was,
  God be merciful to me a sinner! and his last word, the name of that
  Redeemer on whose merits he relied, and to whose honour he had
  lived."

Mr. Lewellin remarked:--"An intimate friend related to me, some
time since, the following circumstances, which belong to the same
remarkable order with that of Old Rachel and Mr. M----. He knew
a Mr. Griffith, who left Wales when a young man, and settled in
London, where he practised as a surgeon for half a century with very
considerable success; but feeling the infirmities of age coming on,
he disposed of his business and withdrew into private life. From
his youth up he had maintained a good report amongst his Christian
brethren. He lived for years after he had relinquished his practice,
but latterly fell into such a state of apathy that he was unable
to recollect his own children, and had even forgotten the English
language, which he had spoken for more than fifty years, using,
in his Scripture quotations and audible prayers, his native Welsh.
He would remain for many hours in succession without appearing
to notice any visible object, asking any question, or replying
to any observation relating to secular matters. He had withdrawn
from the world, living surrounded with invisible realities, the
varying aspect of his countenance indicating some active process of
thinking and emotion; but when he heard the name of Jesus mentioned,
or any allusion to his love in dying for sinners, his eyes would
sparkle with peculiar radiance, his hands would clasp together,
and he would pour forth expressions of gratitude and joy, which
betokened the vital energy of his soul, and the intense interest he
felt in anticipation of the grand crisis. On his favourite theme
of meditation he evinced no dulness, nor lack of mental energy; he
would emerge from his seclusion to hold intelligible intercourse
with his Christian brethren, when he heard them give utterance
to the joyful sound, and then drew back, without any distinct
recognition of their persons, to dwell alone in the pavilion of the
Divine presence."[2]

  [2] The following anecdote of George III. (from _Legends and
  Records_, chiefly Historical: by Charles Tayler, M.A.), supplies
  us with another interesting case of the aptitude of the mind to
  understand and feel the power of religious truth, after it has
  become inaccessible to every other mental communication. His majesty
  had been hunting in Windsor Forest, and after the hunt was over, as
  he was returning, his attention was arrested by a little girl who
  sat on the ground weeping. He alighted from his horse, and, having
  ascertained the cause of her grief, he followed her to a tent, in an
  unfrequented part of the forest, where lay an old gipsy on her dying
  bed, with her face towards the inside of the tent. She appeared
  too far gone to hear any of the sympathetic inquiries which he
  instituted. However, his eye was attracted by a torn and dirty book,
  which lay open upon the pillow of the dying woman, and he had the
  curiosity to see what book it was.

  "Ah, Sir," said an elder girl, "I believe there's a deal of fine
  reading in that book; and my grandmother set great store by it, torn
  and soiled as it is. While she could use her eyes she used to be
  spelling it over and over again; but now, she says, the letters are
  all dark and dim before her sight, she cannot see them."

  His majesty said nothing, but, taking up the book from the pillow,
  he sat down on the green turf close to the head of the dying woman.
  The book was the Bible. He chose some of those beautiful passages
  which are easy to be understood, and, at the same time, full of
  hope and comfort to the sinking and fearful heart. He read of the
  tender compassion of the Father of mercies to his guilty creatures,
  in giving his own Son Jesus Christ to die for them, that whosoever
  believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life!
  Though she heard not what he said when he first spoke to her, she
  heard and felt the words of the Scriptures, for she turned entirely
  round and opened her dull eyes with a vacant stare; she endeavoured
  also to speak, but could only make a faint uncertain sound, in which
  no word could be distinguished. Then she drew her hands together,
  and clasped them as if in prayer, taking that way, it seemed, to
  show that she was quite sensible to hear and understand what was
  read to her; and the young girls drew near, and kneeled down quietly
  beside the bed, listening also to the sacred words of life, and
  feeling a sort of happiness in their sorrow, as they looked upon
  their beloved parent, now as calm as a sleeping infant, except that
  tears stole down her hollow cheeks; but any one might see that they
  were tears of joy, for all the while a smile was on her lips.

"These are spiritual phenomena," said the Rev. Mr. Roscoe, "which,
like the phenomena of nature, are too plain and palpable to be
denied, even though it may not be in our power to give all the
explanations about the causes of them which our curiosity would like
to receive."

[Illustration: JAMES GODWIN. W. L. THOMAS.

GEORGE III. AND THE DYING GIPSY.

Vol. ii. p. 7.]

"Very true, Sir," said Mr. Ingleby; "but there are certain
statements and expressions in the New Testament which throw light
enough upon such phenomena to demonstrate that they have their
_natural causes_, and thus they are rescued from the supposition
that they are self-originated and self-sustained movements of
the human spirit, in some complexed and eccentric condition of
existence. Our Lord says to his disciples, 'I am the vine, ye are
the branches; he that abideth in me and I in him, the same bringeth
forth much fruit' (John xv. 5). The life of the branch depends on
its adhesion to the tree which supplies the sap of nourishment.
Again, he says, 'I in them' (John xvii. 23). The apostle says, 'I
live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me' (Gal. ii. 20). Again,
'Your life is hid with Christ in God' (Col. iii. 3), denoting
its invulnerable security. From the passages which I have now
quoted, and there are many others of the same import, we arrive
at this conclusion, which is an explanation and a defence of the
spiritual phenomenon, that there is an actual, though inexplicable
inhabitation of Jesus Christ in the soul of a believer (Rev.
iii. 20), sustaining the spiritual life within him, as the vine
nourishes the branch which bears its own fruit. And as He has life
in _himself_, he can do this with perfect ease, not only when the
believer is in vigorous health, and in the full exercise of all his
mental faculties, but when he is labouring under those physical
diseases and mental infirmities which, by a slow progression, lead
to his decay and death."

The Rev. Mr. Guion observed, "That to deny the existence of such
phenomena, and others which bear some affinity to them, simply
because they are extraordinary, would be an act of absurdity which
no spiritual or even philosophic mind would venture to defend,
because the evidence in proof of their actual occurrence is so clear
and conclusive. The real question of difficulty to decide is simply
this:--Are they supernatural manifestations, or illusions of the
imagination? but, in either case, they go off into their own element
of mysteriousness, compelling us to believe what we cannot explain.
On a supposition that they are real manifestations of Divine power
and love, which I fully believe they are, I cannot help thinking
that the highly-favoured spirit (Old Rachel, for example), while in
such a state of _lucid and active unconsciousness_, if I may use
such an expression, must exist in something like an intermediate
position between the material and immaterial world--dying off from
one by a very slow progression, and getting meet for the other by a
similar process; occasionally stepping back to give unmistakeable
signs of the continued possession of the faculties of thought and
emotion, and then retreating, as into a citadel standing near the
dark frontier of the invisible world, and into which its celestial
rays sometimes penetrate."

"In these cases of rare occurrence," said Mr. Roscoe, "it is the
soul of the spiritual man retreating from visible and audible
fellowship with his pious associates; but biography supplies us
_with another order of moral phenomena_ equally inexplicable, yet
equally gratifying, tending to confirm the reality of the connection
between the visible and invisible world which the Christian
revelation so plainly and positively announces. I received, some
time ago, the following statement from an elder of a Scotch church,
on whose testimony I can place implicit dependence:--'About the
month of August, 1838, I went to see my grandfather, a pious old
man, ninety-two years of age. I sat by his bedside, and others
also were with him. He had been silent and motionless for about
five hours, when he opened his eyes, his countenance beaming with
joy, and raising his hands he said, I see heaven open, and Jesus
Christ at the right hand of God, and the angels of God descending
to receive me. These were his last words, and when he had given
utterance to them he expired.'"

"This reminds me," said Mr. Lewellin, "of an incident which occurred
at Stepney College,[3] not long ago. When Ebenezer Birrel, a student
there, was dying, he requested all who were in the room with him to
keep silence. He also was silent and motionless. At length he looked
and gazed in rapture on some glorious object, which to him alone was
visible, exclaiming, as he gazed, '_Beautiful! beautiful!_' and in
uttering the word 'GLORY!' his head fell and he expired."

  [3] The Baptist College, Stepney.

"The case of Dr. Gordon, of Hull," said the Rev. Mr. Guion,
"differing, as it does in some particulars, from all the specimens
we have had of these spiritual phenomena, is, I think, deserving of
our special notice. 'He appeared,' says his biographer, 'just as he
was expiring, no longer conscious of what took place around him.
He gazed upwards, as in wrapt vision. No film overspread his eyes.
They beamed with an unwonted lustre, and the whole countenance,
losing the aspect of disease and pain, with which we had been so
long familiar, glowed with an expression of indescribable rapture.
As we watched, in silent wonder and praise, his features, which had
become motionless, suddenly yielded for a few seconds to a smile
of ecstasy which no pencil could ever depict, and which none who
witnessed it can ever forget. And when it passed away, still the
whole countenance continued to beam and brighten, as if reflecting
the glory on which the soul was gazing. This glorious spectacle
continued for about a quarter of an hour, increasing in interest to
the last.'"

"I have heard of other cases," remarked Mr. Ingleby, "bearing a
strong resemblance to some which have been mentioned; but I have
never made much use of them, except as supplementary proofs in
confirmation of my own belief in the inseparable connection of
the two worlds. They are not absolutely necessary to establish
this great fact; yet we must all admit, that such proofs _can be
supplied_, if it should please God to do so; and we know he has done
it more than once. Not to dwell on the vision of the apostle Paul,
I would just advert to the case of Stephen. When his enemies were
gnashing on him with their teeth, expressive of their indignation
against him, for accusing them of having betrayed and murdered the
JUST ONE--'He, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly
into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on
the right hand of God' (Acts vii. 55). He saw clearly what the
others saw not, and for reporting what he saw he was denounced a
blasphemer, and was led out and stoned to death. This case settles
two great facts:--First, that God can, when he pleases, unveil to
mortal vision the glorious forms and appearances of the invisible
world; and secondly, that he has done it."

"I feel unwilling," said the Rev. Mr. Roscoe, "to object to any
evidence which tends to confirm our belief in the connection
between the visible and invisible world; but I think great caution
is necessary in employing such cases as have now been reported in
proof of it. What the old Scotchman and the youthful student saw, or
thought they saw, may, after all, have been nothing more than the
illusions of their own disturbed imagination, left at the closing
scene uncontrolled by the immortal spirit itself, while in the act
of passing from its material tabernacle, and away from its material
senses, into another, a higher, and more congenial economy of
existence."

"True, Sir," said Mr. Ingleby; "but then, if we admit that they
really are illusions, we must also admit that they are illusive
only by a _forestalling process_; the imagination bringing to
the senses, yet bounded by the material economy, objects of
vision belonging to another state of existence--framing types of
invisible realities--lifting up, in the living temple of humanity,
prefigurations of what will be seen when the fulness of time comes
for the disembodying of the soul and its glorification. The illusion
then relates, not to the UNREALITY of _what is seen_ and _felt_, but
to the _unreality_ of the _act_ of _vision_, and its _consequent
excitement_ and _impression, both mental and physical_."

"We know," said. Mr. Roscoe, "that God very rarely deviates in
his providential administration, from the established laws of his
government; but we also know that he does sometimes, and for the
purpose of making us know more impressively that he is the LORD,
who exercises loving-kindness, judgment, and righteousness in the
earth, for in these things he delights. Hence, there have been
two translations from earth to heaven, without the intervening
infliction of death, but only two, since the fall of man. In
reference to the remarkable cases under consideration, there may be
some difficulty in deciding whether the persons actually saw what
they are reported to have seen, or were imposed on by the mysterious
action of their own imagination; but yet I cannot bring my mind to
the conclusion, that the visions were positive illusions, and that
the happy spirits who saw them, and spake of them, and whose radiant
countenances betokened the truthfulness of their testimony, were
dying under the spell of self-deception. Such cases, we know, but
very rarely occur, and when they do occur they make their appearance
quite unexpectedly; but I think they occur often enough, and with
such varying peculiarities, as to make us hesitate to pronounce them
positive illusions, even if we cannot admit with confidence that
they are positive realities."

"At any rate," said Mrs. John Roscoe, "the spell of self-deception,
if they were deceived, was soon broken, as in each case death came
immediately after they uttered their last joyous exclamation; and
then the sublime vision of immortality opened upon them, with all
its glorious realities."

The Rev. Mr. Guion here remarked that, "in general, the Lord's
people die in hope and with great calmness; and sometimes they rise
to confidence, and even to joy, and joy unspeakable. Few, indeed,
rise higher than this; but I have known enough, and heard enough,
to satisfy me that some do. The case of Dr. Gordon, who uttered
no exclamation, is to me a decisive proof of this. He is calm,
motionless, wrapped in profound thoughts, when his countenance,
which had long been marked by the lines of disease and pain, begins
to radiate, till at length its lustre was so clear and bright,
attended by an ecstatic smile so ethereal, that the spectators were
awe-struck, standing and gazing for the space of a quarter of an
hour on this more than human vision. At least, they thought it more
than human while they were gazing on it."

"Every effect," said Mr. Ingleby, "must have some adequate cause;
and this extraordinary radiation on the countenance of Dr. Gordon
was produced either by the action of his own thoughts, or by
the intervention of a supernatural power. If produced by his
own thoughts, what a hold must his soul have taken of invisible
realities when he was dying, to give such a glowing brilliancy
to his pallid face! If produced by the intervening action of
supernatural power, it was a premature shining forth of the glory to
be revealed more fully in the disembodied state. In other words, he
did what was done by the impulse of his _own_ conceptions, or God
was especially with him in his dying chamber, shedding upon him some
effulgent rays of his own glory."

"But to return," said the Rev. Mr. Roscoe, "to the case of Rachel,
the old blind woman, which, because it is capable of a more
practical bearing, I must confess, interests me more than the
splendid case of Dr. Gordon, interesting as it is. But, before
I touch on this, will you permit me to ask how long she lived
after your unexpected interview with her? and whether there was a
recurrence of the astonishing responses to your inquiries?"

"I sat gazing on her," said the Rev. Mr. Ingleby, "some time after I
ceased speaking; and before I left her, her countenance had resumed
its statue-like appearance of positive insensibility; and every
feature was fixed, as though set by the cold hand of death, and
there was not a movement of any part of her body, except the breast
and the shoulders, from the more powerful action of the lungs. The
following week I took a friend with me, in expectation of having
another interview with her; but I was disappointed. On entering the
cottage, her daughter informed me, that having awoke in the night,
and thinking she heard her mother utter some sound, she went with a
light to her bedside, when the old woman, after a slight convulsive
struggle, raised her hands, and said, '_Dear Saviour, I come to
thee_,' and died."

"What a splendid transition!" said Mrs. Stevens; "the cottage
exchanged for a mansion! What a glorious sequel to all her
privations and sufferings! Her happy spirit, long confined in total
darkness, is at last liberated, and is now beholding the glory
of Christ, and living and moving amidst the celestial beings and
sublime grandeur of immortality."

"And yet we are told," said Mr. Roscoe, "that the faith of Christ,
which unveils such grand prospects of a future state of existence,
is a mere delusion, and that we who indulge them are self-deceived.
If we admit this, we must also admit that it is a very remarkable
delusion, as it usually comes in its most vivid forms, and with its
most attractive influences, just at that period of human existence
when all things of earth and of time are vanishing away. At that
awful crisis, when the pomp of distinction, the fascination of
sensible objects, and the grandeur of wealth, are all losing their
hold on us--and nothing is left to man but the shroud, the coffin,
and the grave --at that very time the Christian faith opens up
a scene of grandeur which no words can adequately describe; and
yet the dying man, who feels his departing spirit embracing these
revelations as sublime realities, is told by the cold-hearted
sceptic that all is a delusion, and he is self-deceived. But he
heeds not such random assertions. He moves forward, repeating the
soul-inspiring words, 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod
and thy staff they comfort me' (Psal. xxiii. 4)."

"But this case of poor Old Rachel," said the Rev. Mr. Roscoe, "does
something more than exhibit the efficacy of the Christian faith, in
sustaining the human soul when the _dread hour comes_--it supplies
a proof of the immateriality, and, by a fair inference, of the
immortality of the soul itself. We are told, by some sagacious
sceptics, that the mind of man, like his body, is material, only
that it has passed through a more refined process, and is endowed
_by nature_ with certain faculties analogous to the senses; and as
they came into existence together at the time of his birth, and live
together through life, so they will go out of existence together
when they pay the debt of nature, and, at last, perish together.
And I must confess that humanity has, in some instances, seemed
to give a confirmation to this opinion, as the body and the mind
have appeared to wither and decay together, as age and infirmities
have come upon them. Hence there has been a loss of memory with
the loss of animal vivacity--a loss of intellectual vigour with
the loss of physical strength--a loss of imaginative power with
the loss of sensitive acuteness--the mind and the body undergoing
this reciprocal decay before the change comes which, according
to the sceptic's theory, is to end in their extinction. But,
then, I have met with another class of cases bearing some analogy
to this reciprocal decay, but, at the same time, putting forth
indications in confirmation of a reversed issue, as in the history
of Old Rachel. In her we see the memory losing the impression of
earthly objects, but retaining the impression of heavenly ones. Her
intellect lies prostrate and powerless in the presence of sensuous
and secular inquiries, but it springs into vigorous activity
when spiritual ones are addressed to her. The affections of her
heart have died off from the relationships of life; but they are
concentrated on the perfection of moral beauty, and cleave to Jesus
Christ with an intensity and ardour surpassing that of a youthful
passion. Here we have a living exponent, and a confirmation of the
truthfulness of the apostolic expression, 'Though our outward man
perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.' (See John xi. 25,
26)."

"And there is another practical lesson," Mr. Ingleby remarked,
"which this case of Old Rachel teaches us, and it is this:--When a
man is enlightened by the Spirit, and is brought into fellowship
with Jesus Christ, and has felt the power of the world to come,
he never outlives his knowledge of these wondrous realities which
stand out in bold relief when his remembrance of all other
things is blotted out. He may forget the wife of his bosom, and
the children who revered and loved him--he may forget his mother
tongue, and not recognize the hand which feeds and clothes him--and
he may live till almost every sense has become extinct, and the
avenues of communication between the imprisoned spirit and the
living world are blocked up--but he will never forget by whose
blood he has been redeemed--he will never become insensible to the
charm of His name or the preciousness of His love--nor will he
ever lose sight of the bright and unfading inheritance of which he
has received the earnest. Old Rachel was living at ease, conscious
of her possessions, even when, in the estimation of others, she
was unconscious of her own existence; and indulging the sublimest
anticipations of faith and hope, while in the dark cell of her
confinement."

"Without giving any opinion," said the Rev. Mr. Roscoe, "as to
which of the cases reported this evening is the most remarkable,
or presuming to decide, whether they are to be referred to some
mysterious action of the imagination, or to a real, yet marvellous
manifestation of the Divine presence--leaving each case to stand for
your decision on the ground of its own merits--I think we may make
a good practical use of the whole of them, as, when we see lights
burning, though of varying degrees of brightness, we may avail
ourselves of their radiance even if we cannot tell by whom they are
enkindled. We believe that the evidence which the Bible supplies,
in confirmation of the existence of another world, is sufficiently
ample and decisive to satisfy us of its reality; but still it is
not so ample and decisive as to preclude the desirableness of some
additional evidence. This is often given in the death-chamber of
the Christian believer; and not only to him, when dying, but to
those who are eye-witnesses of the mode of his departure. When,
for example, we see a man of intelligence, of taste, of great
sobriety of thinking, and of courteous speech, quite calm on his
death-bed, and alternately strongly excited--when we hear him
speak of the hope he entertains of a glorious immortality--when we
see him rising above hope into full assurance, eager to depart,
though surrounded by many of the attractions of earth--when every
look, and aspiration, and utterance, beats in harmony with his
long-settled expectation of a grand issue to his faith--we may very
naturally take his experience, not only as a safe guide, but as
a valid testimony to the certainty of what we believe in common.
But now suppose, if, in addition to this tranquil state of mind,
we should see a bright radiance beaming on the countenance of our
dying friend, previously pallid and careworn by disease--and suppose
we should see him raise himself up in bed, looking intently, as
if seeing some beautiful object concealed from us, and, after a
profound silence and stillness of some minutes, we should hear him
speak of actually seeing, while in the body, what we believe he
will see the moment he is out of the body--would not this tend to
strengthen our faith, even though we are unable to decide whether
he actually saw, or merely thought he saw, the scenes he described?
I think it would; and that even the most dubious on the question of
illusion or reality would retire from such a hallowed spectacle,
filled with emotions of deep solemnity and joyous delight, similar
to what a primitive believer must have felt when looking on the face
of Stephen, shining with angelic brilliancy, a visible attestation
of the reality of his miraculous vision."

"I think so too," said the Rev. Mr. Guion. "I should like to witness
such a sight and hear such an exclamation; and though I will admit
that such things may be nothing more than the illusive action of
the imagination, yet how comes the imagination, when performing its
very last operations, to act with so much power, as to imprint such
a visible radiance on a death-struck countenance? I cannot resist
the impression that such cases as Old Rachel's and Dr. Gordon's,
belonging certainly to a diverse order of spiritual phenomena, are
real manifestations of the glory and love of God, and are intended
by him, like the translation of Enoch and Elijah, as supplementary
evidence to confirm the faith, and animate the hope of his redeemed
and beloved children. At any rate, such is the effect they have on
me."

"They have the same effect on my mind," said Mr. Ingleby;
"especially this case of poor Old Rachel, which will retain its
power of impression as long as I exist. I shall never forget the
last interview I had with her, nor her death-like appearance when
I left her; but when I see her again--and I trust to see her ere
long--she will appear in a beauteous form, arrayed in the spotless
robe of celestial glory. We know that our latter end is coming, but
we know not _when_ it will come, or who of the living will be with
us when it does come; nor do we know whether we shall pass away,
like Dr. Gordon, while beams of glory are radiating our countenance,
or steal out of life like poor Old Rachel, as from under a pile of
material ruins; but, for our consolation, we know that our dear
Redeemer has promised that _He_ will come to receive us to himself
when we depart hence, and that where he is we shall be also, and for
ever: 'Wherefore, comfort one another with these words' (1 Thess.
iv. 18)."




DIVERSITY OF OPINION VERY NATURAL.


One morning, while Mrs. Stevens was conversing with Mrs. John
Roscoe, a girl who had been attending Mrs. Stevens' Sabbath-school,
and who was going into service, called at Fairmount for a Bible
which had been awarded to her for her diligence and propriety of
behaviour. After expressing her thanks on receiving it, she added,
in a very modest tone, "I shall value it for your sake, Ma'am, and I
hope I shall love it for its own sake."

"I was very much pleased," said Mrs. John Roscoe, "with the
appearance and manners of your young protegé. The reason she gave
for loving the Bible is a proof of superior intelligence, and, I
should hope, of decided piety."

"Yes, she is an amiable girl, and I hope she is pious. She is
a _rescue_ from a godless family. Her parents are very profane
persons, and their other children are following their example. I
have no doubt of her attachment to the Bible, for she has made
herself very conversant with it."

In the evening, when a few friends were assembled, Mrs. John Roscoe
mentioned how much pleased she had been with the Sabbath-school
girl, and repeated the remark she made on receiving the Bible from
Mrs. Stevens.

"FOR ITS OWN SAKE," said the Rev. Mr. Guion; "that is a
substantially good reason for loving the Bible. It is a somewhat
singular fact that no book, on any subject or in any language,
has so completely divided public belief and sympathy, both on the
question of its origin and its practical utility."

"It certainly," Mr. Roscoe replied, "is a very singular, and a very
wonderful book: wonderful, if true; more so, if false. If true, we
can account for its origin; but how can its origin be accounted for
if it be false? If false, it is an invention; and not the invention
of one man, but of an organized conspiracy, and a conspiracy of good
men, for the Bible is too good a book for bad men to write."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"I admit that a bad man may write a good book;
but to suppose that a number of bad men would conspire to write such
a good book as the Bible, is to admit as great a moral impossibility
as to imagine that a number of good men would form a confederacy
in fraud and duplicity, and then palm off their lying inventions
as positive realities. Now, let us look at the case fairly, and I
think we may make some logical progress in settling the question
of its origin. Here is a Bible, and it consists of two parts--the
Old and the New Testament; and we must recollect that the Old
Testament would be incomplete without the New, and the New Testament
would be incomplete without the Old. Each of these parts consists
of different books, or distinct writings, variously designated,
occupying the space of nearly 2000 years in the composition of
them. If the Bible had been written by any one man in any one age,
or if it had been written by contemporary writers living in the
same city or country, its integrity might be open to very strong
suspicion. But the writers of the Bible lived in different ages and
in different countries, spoke different languages, belonged to very
different ranks in social life, and most of them were unknown to
each other; and yet there is, on all the facts and doctrines, and
institutes of these records, an exact concurrence[4] of testimony
running through the whole of their writings. Amongst the writers
we find legislators, kings, poets, herdsmen, fishermen; one was
a publican, and another a tent-maker, who, at one period of his
life, denounced as false some of the facts of its record, which, on
investigation, he found to be true, and attested the integrity of
his new-formed belief by yielding to a martyr's death. And it will
be at once perceived by the intelligent reader, that these men were
no common-place writers; they moved in no beaten pathway of general
knowledge; they are no copyists--they are originals; what they tell
us no other men had ever thought of, or, if they had, their thoughts
died with them, as they never gave publicity to them. The writers of
the Bible appear amongst us as scribes coming from another world,
well instructed in the mysteries of a unique faith, admirably
adapted to the peculiar exigencies of disordered and perplexed
humanity. In addition to the origin of the world and of evil--the
mediatorial work and government of the Son of God, the moral
character and condition, and responsibilities, and final destiny
of the soul of man--and a future economy of existence to last for
ever--are the momentous truths which they make known to us, through
the media of their multifarious and diversified compositions; of
history, prophecy, parable, poetic songs, and plain didactic prose."

  [4] The sceptic will sometimes endeavour to perplex and entangle the
  faith of an unlearned believer, by insinuating that, as he has never
  traced, through the medium of exact evidence, the origin of the
  different books of the Bible to their source, he cannot be assured
  that his belief is substantially a true belief--it may be, after
  all, nothing but the belief of a fiction. The following quotation
  from a distinguished writer, will, I think, prove as a shield of
  defence to the faith of the unlearned, and convince the sceptic
  himself, that his objection, plausible in appearance, is wanting
  in logical force:--"It is manifest that the concurrent testimony,
  positive or negative, of several witnesses, when there can have been
  no concert, carries with it a weight independent of that which may
  belong to each of them, considered separately. For though, in such
  a case, each of the witnesses should be even considered as wholly
  undeserving of credit, still the chances might be incalculable
  against all agreeing in the _same_ falsehood. It is on this kind of
  testimony that the generality of mankind believe in the motions of
  the earth, and of the heavenly bodies, &c. Their belief is not the
  result of their own observations and calculations, nor yet again of
  their implicit reliance on the skill and good faith of any one or
  more astronomers; but it rests on the agreement of many independent
  and rival astronomers, who want neither the ability nor the will
  to detect and expose each other's errors. It is on similar grounds
  that the generality of men believe in the existence and in the
  genuineness of manuscripts of ancient books. It is not that they
  have themselves examined these, or that they rely implicitly on
  the good faith of those who profess to have done so; but they rely
  on the _concurrent_ and _uncontradicted_ testimony of all who have
  made, or who _might make_, the examination--both unbelievers and
  believers of various hostile sects, any one of whom would be sure
  to seize any opportunity to expose the forgeries or errors of his
  opponents."--_Whately._

  This observation is the more important because many persons are
  liable to be startled and dismayed, on its being pointed out to them
  that they have been believing something, as they are led to suppose,
  on very insufficient reasons, when the truth is, perhaps, that they
  have been merely mis-stating their reasons.

_Rev. Mr. Roscoe._--"And what is especially deserving of our
attention, is the perfect ease and harmony with which they write
on these new and sublime discoveries of moral truth, while they
all write independently of each other. They admit that they are
subordinates, unworthy of the honour of their appointment; yet each
one speaks and writes, and without any appearance of dogmatism or
ostentation, in the same dignified tone of absolute authority; the
voice which speaks and the hand which writes, is human, but what is
said or written, comes from some other source."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Yes, Sir, I think the correctness of your
remark can be demonstrated; at least, it comes as much within the
range of demonstration, as any moral or historic truth, or fact,
can be brought. The Old Testament is incomplete, and comparatively
valueless, without the New; and yet it is written under the obvious
impression and belief, that it would be completed; but on what data
could its writers base their calculation, that they should have
successors who would carry on and perfect what they had begun and
advanced through several stages of its progress. Now, I readily
believe, that a person of a very acute and comprehensive mind,
who has carefully watched and studied the facts and philosophy of
history, may, on some special occasions, give some general outline
of what will be the state of things within a very _near_ futurity,
if he cautiously avoid going into specific and minute details. But
the writers of the Old Testament have opened up the roll of a _very
remote_ futurity,[5] and have recorded extraordinary events, with
their dates and localities, long before their actual occurrence,
portraying the likeness of MESSIAH the PRINCE, ages before his
appearance on earth, and doing it with so much exactness, that it is
a perfect resemblance of the wonderful original. How could they have
done this, unless they had been guided by a prescient Spirit, to
whose eye all the future is as visible as all the past?"

  [5] Deut. xviii. 15; Psal. xlv. 1, 2; lxxii.; Isa. liii.; Dan. ix.
  22, 27; Zech. ix. 9; Mal. iii. 1.

"Foretelling at the same time," said Mrs. John Roscoe, "his tragical
death; which no one would have expected as the termination of his
benevolent career."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"It is, I believe, a law in the republic of
letters, which no one has attempted to repeal, that all writers
shall have the right of giving, if they please, their authorities
for what they say; and of letting us know from what source they
derive the information which they supply to us. Hence, no one
can reasonably object to let the writers of the Bible have the
protection of this law, which is of universal application. And
what do they say on the question relating to the source of their
knowledge? We will take their answer, and then form our own
judgment of its integrity from the facts and evidences of the
case. "All Scripture is given by inspiration of God:[6] holy men
of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."[7] This is
a concise statement of their testimony on this great question;
and its integrity is fairly sustained by positive and incidental
evidence. We see that they have given proofs of foreknowledge which
far surpasses the capabilities of the most acute and comprehensive
human mind; while, at the same time, they have made known to us a
connected series of moral and spiritual truths, to which no other
writers make any allusion, and of which they could have formed no
conception, unless they had been under superhuman tuition. What
they have done, is its own defence against the imputation of fraud
and dishonesty--standing as an imperishable memorial of the love
of God to man; and of the fidelity of his servants, in disclaiming
the honour of inventing a theory of faith and morals which justly
claims a Divine origin. This view of the case, which is their
own explanation, settles the question, without requiring us to
believe physical impossibilities, or compelling us to reject the
unrepealable law of moral evidence."

  [6] 2 Tim. iii. 16.

  [7] 2 Pet. i. 21.

_Mr. Roscoe._--"And we may, I think, very properly regard the great
_moral power_ of the Bible as a very telling collateral argument
in favour of its Divine origin. You may take any other book, on
any other subject, and put it into circulation amongst a mass of
people, either semi-barbarians or highly-polished citizens, but it
will work no beneficial changes in the general aspect of their moral
character. It will leave them, as it finds them. If it finds them,
as in India, bowing down and doing homage to stocks and stones, it
leaves them worshipping the workmanship of their own hands--still
revelling in their cruel and obscene abominations. If it finds them,
as in Rome, kissing the crucifix--offering up their adorations
and orisons to the Virgin Mary--or visiting the tomb of a real or
legendary saint, in expectation of some miraculous healing, it
leaves them practising these puerile and senseless exercises. If
it finds them, as in Russia, crouching in terror before the great
Tyrant, doing his biddings like beasts of burden, it leaves them in
this prostrate state of degradation and misery. But put the Bible
into circulation amongst the same class of people, and, after a
while, you will perceive that it is taking effect upon them. One
reads it, and feels its moral power on his conscience and his heart;
another reads it, and he is subdued by its authority; others read
it and the same result follows: they are drawn together by the
attractive power which emanates from it, and become the nucleus of a
new order of human beings springing up in the midst of the unchanged
natives of the place. They are of the same ancestral origin, and
follow the same civil and social avocations and professions; but
they are a peculiar people, resembling the primitive believers of
the New Testament in intelligence and daring courage. They are new
creatures in Christ Jesus; and, in process of time, as they increase
in number and consequent activity, they give a new tone and energy
to the moral, the political, and the religious sentiments and
feelings of an entire community. It is to the Bible that Scotland
is indebted for her moral greatness; and England never would have
risen to her present eminence had it not been for the old Puritans,
who were animated and sustained by the examples, and principles,
and spirit of the Bible, in their passive sufferings and active
exertions in resisting the encroachments and the cruelties of
tyranny and oppression."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Your argument, Sir, is a legitimate one, and
it is as logical, as it is historically true. The book which effects
the changes which are essential to the happiness and well-being of
men as individuals, or men living in a community, but which cannot
be effected by the wit or eloquence of man, may fairly put in a
claim to a higher and a purer origin than mere humanity."

_Mr. Stevens._--"Unbelievers, in general, do not trouble themselves
to account for the origin of the Bible; they take for granted that
it is a book of mysticism and fraud, and at once direct their
virulence against it, and hold it up to scorn and contempt."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"And yet, notwithstanding all these attacks on
the Bible, it still lives and commands attention. In the estimation
of wise and good men, it takes precedence of all other books: they
not only admire, but revere and love it. I have in my parish a
good old man who has a large library, and has been a great reader
for upwards of twenty years, but now he very rarely reads any book
except his Bible. On referring, one day, to his devoted attachment
to the Bible, he said--'I feel, when reading it, in the presence
of God, and what I read comes with authority and power. The more I
read it the more is my attention fixed on another world, and the
more intensely do I desire to depart hence. This is a mean and
comfortless place of residence when compared with the mansion our
Lord is preparing for us in his Father's house.'"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Pious people are very fond of the Bible, and
their attachment to it increases as they advance in years; their
passion for it is often very strong in death."

_Mr. Stevens._--"Your remark, Sir, recalls to my remembrance
what passed, the other day, in a casual conversation between an
intelligent, yet very candid sceptic, and myself. 'There is,' he
said, 'one phenomenon connected with the Bible which has long
puzzled me to account for; if you can solve it, I shall feel
obliged. I have noticed wherever I have been--and I have travelled
through Europe and America--I have visited India and some of the
islands of the South Seas, and resided for awhile amongst the black
population of the West Indies--and whenever I have met with any
persons who believe in the truth of the Bible, whether they were
refined and intelligent or the reverse, they uniformly evinced
for it the same profound reverence and supreme attachment.' 'The
solution,' I replied, 'is easily given. They revere it as their
statute-book, containing the code of laws which their Divine
Legislator has issued to test their obedience to his authority; and
they love it, as bringing life and immortality to light; making
known to them a Saviour who is able and willing to save them from
the wrath to come, and to give them peace of soul as an earnest and
a pledge of future and eternal happiness; and they value it for
its exceeding great and precious promises, which have a soothing
and sustaining influence over their hearts in the times of their
sorrows and afflictions.' 'But how is it,' he added, 'that while
they cherish such a profound reverence for the Bible, they differ
so widely in the interpretation they put on its meaning? How will
you account for this rather puzzling fact?' The sudden entrance of
several strangers into the room prevented me from making a reply."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"This difference of interpretation, which
sceptics often bring forward as a plausible argument against the
Divine origin of the Bible, very frequently perplexes conscientious
believers. I recently received a letter from a gentleman who
says--'When I think of the sentiments which are held by different
bodies of Christians--sentiments which are directly opposed to each
other, and which appear to me to admit of no adjustment; and when I
recollect that they all profess to derive them from the same source,
and are in the habit of appealing to the same authority in support
of them--I feel myself approaching a difficulty which I know not
how to solve. Is the Bible really such a mysterious book that it is
incapable of being understood? Is it an oracle which utters truth
and falsehood? If so, it cannot be a safe guide; and if it be not
so, how do you account for the very different interpretations which
it receives?'"

_Mr. Stevens._--"How did you meet the difficulties of the case?"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"I did not go fully into the question, because
I knew, from the cast of his mind, that he would work himself right.
I merely stated that conflicting opinions do not, of themselves,
possess sufficient weight to set aside any law, or destroy the truth
of any proposition which comes attested by its own proper evidence.
And to give force to this very obvious truism, I reminded him of our
judges, who sometimes give different interpretations of a statute
law, without impairing its authority; and of our philosophers,
whose different opinions on the primary cause of motion, do not
disturb popular belief in the diurnal revolution of our earth. But,
after all, we do not differ in our interpretations of the Bible so
much as many imagine. It is true there are separate and distinct
denominations of Christians, who are regarded by the ignorant and
bigoted as the disciples and abettors of very opposite religious
creeds; yet if we inquire into the actual state of the case, we
shall find that most of them agree in all that is essential and
vitally important in the Christian scheme, and that they differ only
on what is subordinate, and comparatively unimportant."

_Rev. Mr. Roscoe._--"It is supposed by many that this diversity
of interpretation which is given to some parts of the Bible would
have been prevented if a logical or systematic order had been
scrupulously observed. If, for example, the sacred writers had
arranged the facts, the doctrines, the precepts, the institutions,
the sanctions, the evidences, and the final recompense of the
Christian faith, systematically--presenting the whole in a
compendious form--there would be, in that case, so much compactness,
such symmetrical order--one part of the theory would hang so
naturally on another--that it would be extremely difficult, if not
impossible, for any division of opinion to spring up amongst us
on the question of its import or design. We should then think and
believe alike. This is what I have heard some speculatists say; but
I have no confidence in the integrity of their opinion."[8]

  [8] "No such a thing," says Archbishop Whately, "is to be found in
  our Scriptures as a catechism, or regular _elementary introduction_
  to the _Christian religion_; nor do they furnish us with anything
  of the nature of a systematic creed, set of articles, confession
  of faith, or by whatever other name one may designate a regular,
  complete compendium of Christian doctrines; nor, again, do they
  supply us with a liturgy for ordinary public worship, or with forms
  for administering the sacraments, or for conferring holy orders;
  nor do they even give any precise _directions_ as to these and
  other ecclesiastical matters--anything that at all corresponds to
  a rubric, or set of canons." Why these omissions? A great defect
  in our Scriptures, say some; but, in my opinion, it amounts to a
  self-evident confirmation, that the writers of the New Testament
  were under the special dictation of the Divine Spirit, as to what
  they _should_, and what they _should not_ record. If they were
  carrying out a fraudulent design, conceived by their predecessors,
  who wrote the Old Testament, they would, from their educational
  training and desire to act in character with their confederates,
  have imitated their example, and been very specific and minute in
  all their ecclesiastic arrangements. They would have inserted the
  law of dictation and prescription, which was so absolute under the
  Jewish theocracy, in the Christian code, and thus have rendered
  division of opinion and freedom of action impossible. The question
  then turns upon us: Why did they not do what it was very natural
  they should do, and what the necessity of the case would seem to
  require to be done, according to the judgment of every intelligent
  and reflective mind, who looked at it through the medium of the
  existing ecclesiastical regulations of the age and country? Their
  _not doing_ what was thus natural _they should do_, and what the
  necessity of the case, according to human judgment, _required them
  to do_, is of itself a proof that they were not left to the guidance
  of their own understanding, but were held in subjection, according
  to their own confession, by the controlling power and wisdom of the
  Holy Ghost, under whose inspiration all Scripture is given. "The
  Jewish ritual, designed for one nation and country, and intended to
  be of temporary duration, was fixed and accurately prescribed. The
  same Divine wisdom, from which both dispensations proceeded, having
  designed Christianity for all nations and ages, left Christians
  at large in respect of those points in which variation might be
  desirable. But I think no _human_ wisdom would have foreseen and
  provided for this. That a number of _Jews_, accustomed from their
  infancy to so strict a ritual, should, in introducing Christianity
  as the second part of the same dispensation, have abstained not only
  from accurately prescribing for the use of all Christian churches
  for ever the mode of Divine worship, but even from recording
  what was actually in use under their own directions, does seem
  to me utterly incredible, unless we suppose them to have been
  restrained from doing this by a special admonition of the Divine
  Spirit."--_Whately._

  At any rate, whether these omissions are to be attributed to the
  controlling power of the Holy Ghost, or the extraordinary policy of
  the writers of the New Testament, we arrive at the same conclusion,
  that, while we are required to believe, and to contend earnestly for
  the essential facts and doctrines of the Christian faith, which are
  set out with great precision and explicitness, a freedom of action
  is allowed on what may be deemed the subordinate and non-essential
  parts of the same faith. Hence we may differ on some things, without
  any valid impeachment of our Christian wisdom and integrity,
  unless we allow our difference of opinion to produce alienation
  of brotherly affection. When it does this, we make a sacrifice of
  our honour, and give a sanction to the accusation of the common
  adversary, that our hostile divisions are a proof that our religion
  does not come from a wise and benevolent Being--that it is of the
  earth, earthy.

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"The objections against an inspired compendium
of Christian doctrine and practice, are, in my judgment, more
powerful than the arguments in favour of it. If we had it, we
should revere it, and learn it; it would perpetually recur to our
recollection in our reflective moments, and by rendering a studious
examination of the other parts of the Scripture unnecessary, we
should be liable to sink into 'a _contented apathy_' of spirit,
under this conviction, that as we can repeat all, we know all that
is necessary for us to know."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"Archbishop Whately, when alluding to this
subject, says, 'that if we had this compendium, both it and the
other parts of the Scriptures would be regarded as of Divine
authority; but the compendium itself would be looked upon by most as
the fused and purified metal; the other, as the mine containing the
crude ore. And the compendium itself, being, not like the existing
Scriptures, that _from which_ the faith is to be learned, but _the
very thing to be learned_, would come to be regarded by most with an
indolent, unthinking veneration, which would exercise little or no
influence over them.'"

_Mr. Roscoe._--"Universal experience proves, that facility in
obtaining a supply to our physical necessities, is not so beneficial
to the energy and vigour of the human constitution, as difficulty,
which stimulates to labour and invention. Compare, for example,
the natives of the South Sea Islands, whose bread-fruit ripens of
itself, with the hardy Highlanders of Scotland, who have to toil
for their living through frost and snow, as well as sunshine--what
a difference in their muscular and masculine conformation and
appearance. And the same remark is equally applicable to the mind of
man, whose knowledge on any subject, in any department of science,
and especially the science of Biblical theology, is accurate and
profound, in proportion to the efforts he is obliged to make in its
acquisition. A compendium would be the bread-fruit, within reach,
and easily plucked. We should, if we had it, become dwarfs in
Biblical theology. It is only when our energies are roused by a love
of the truth, and stimulated by the difficulties connected with its
attainment, that our knowledge in the mystery of Christianity gets
perfected, and becomes practically powerful in its influence over
the heart and the character."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"And in addition to the relaxing influence
which a compendium would exert over the mind--indisposing it to any
labour in searching the Scriptures, except the labour of the memory,
and that to a very superficial extent--I have another objection to
such a projected scheme, which is this:--I do not think it possible
for the Christian faith to be reduced to such a compact, or what
you term compendious form, as shall secure amongst its advocates
and defenders a perfect unity of belief on all points, without the
perpetual exercise of a supernatural agency in the illumination and
guidance of the mind, which would amount to something like a plenary
inspiration to every believer. Now what can be more logically
explicit than the articles of our church; and yet what a very
different construction do different men put upon them!"

_Mrs. John Roscoe._--"That is true. If I were in a church on a
Sabbath morning listening to a Tractarian; if I returned in the
afternoon, and heard a Moderate; and if, in the evening, I occupied
the same pew, while an Evangelical was doing duty in the pulpit, I
should find myself in a modern Babel, witnessing, on a small scale,
a new specimen of the confusion of tongues."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"But this difference of opinion and diversity
of interpretation on the same theory of belief, prevails amongst
others as well as amongst us. Even amongst unbelievers, who almost
deify reason--asserting and maintaining, that it is fully equal to
all the exigencies of humanity, without being under any obligation
to a Divine inspiration--there is almost an endless diversity of
belief and opinion on all questions relating to God, to human
responsibility, and the final destiny of man. They are obliged to
pass a toleration act to live in peace."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"I like a toleration act; it is essential to
our peace. The period is coming when we shall _'see eye to eye_;'
but that will be under a dispensation very different to the present;
we must now agree to differ, and while contending earnestly for
the faith once delivered to the saints, we must live together as
brethren."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"Jesus Christ said to his disciples--'These
things I command you, that ye love one another' (John xv. 17); and
he says the same things to us. And if we love one another, we shall
never vote for a repeal of our toleration act, which admits of some
shades of difference in our religious belief and opinions."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"It was doubted, a few years since, whether
even the spiritual members of our various denominations cherished
any fraternal esteem and affection for each other--they often acted
more like gladiators than brethren; but now they are cultivating a
spirit of union and peace."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"This change in their spirit and conduct is a very
gratifying and auspicious event; but some good men maintain that the
entire abolition of the distinctive denominations and their union
in one undivided body, would be more conducive to the honour of
Christianity, and more favourable to its progressive triumphs."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"This I conceive to be impracticable during the
partial obscurity of the present dispensation; and I must confess
that I do not think it advisable. I have no objection to those
divisions of opinion which separate us into different denominations,
though I deplore the spirit which they sometimes engender. I think
that a variation in belief, on some of the minor questions of
religion, by keeping our attention awake and active, tends to
preserve the more important truths in a purer state; and the action
and re-action of one Christian denomination on another, prevents
that stagnation of feeling, and that inertness of principle, which
an unbroken and undisturbed uniformity admits of."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"But, would not the church assume a more imposing
aspect, and put forth a more powerful energy, if she could unite all
her members in one undivided body, under the immediate authority
of one Head, than she does now, broken as she is, into so many
subdivisions?"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Yes, Sir, if she could preserve her purity
uncontaminated; but we ought never to forget, that while the
religion we profess is Divine in its origin, and indestructible in
its nature, it is human in its forms and administrations. Hence it
alternately displays resistless power and exhausted weakness--the
sanctity and grandeur of its Author, along with the infirmities
and imperfections of the agents to whom it is intrusted--sometimes
exciting the profound veneration of the multitude, and at other
times their contempt or indifference. And it is this admixture of
what is human with what is Divine, that renders it expedient that
there should be some exposure to the influence of that re-action of
distinctive opinions, and of social attachments, which, by keeping
us alive to _the purity and extension of our separate communions_,
tends to promote the purity and extension of the faith which we hold
in common."

_Mr. Stevens._--"Your opinion exactly accords with my own. Hence,
instead of regarding the Established Church, and the various
denominations of orthodox Dissenters, as hostile foes, aiming at
each other's humiliation and destruction, we should look on them as
subjects of the same monarch, each bearing the distinctive insignia
of his own order; yet mutually supporting each other without the
formality of a visible contact, and, as his sovereign will directs,
advancing, each in his own way, the work of reclaiming to a state of
allegiance the people who have revolted from his authority."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Or, to vary the figure, we may view them as
so many servants belonging to the same master, who are employed in
cultivating the great moral vineyard, whose reward at last will be
in proportion to their fidelity to him, and their affection for each
other. If this comparison be just, then, if we cherish a complacent
feeling exclusively for those who belong to our own class, and
attempt to lord it over our fellow-servants who may belong to
another, or treat them discourteously, we dishonour ourselves, and
offend against the law of our Lord, who has commanded us to love
each other as brethren."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"When I consider the fallibility of the human
mind--the prejudices of education--the influence of accidental
reading and associations--and the extensive prevalence of erroneous
opinions, instead of being astonished by the shades of difference
which prevail amongst us, I am surprised that we think so nearly
alike. We agree on the substantial facts, and doctrines, and
institutes, and precepts of revelation, while we differ on some of
its forms and ceremonial enactments. But these trifling differences,
which do not endanger the safety, nor add to the stability of
our faith, ought not to excite jealousy and suspicion, and cause
alienation of affection, as though we were avowed enemies. No. When
this is the case we give a decisive proof that we do not possess the
spirit of the gospel; or, if we possess it, we do not display it,
which aggravates rather than extenuates our sin."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"In the last prayer our Saviour uttered, just
before he presented himself the expiatory sacrifice for human guilt,
he earnestly entreated that all his disciples, in every future age,
might be one, even as he and his Father are one; and he assigns the
reason--_That the world may know that thou hast sent me._ For some
ages, the object of that prayer was realized in the harmony which
prevailed amongst Christians whose religion was a bond of union
more strict and tender than the ties of consanguinity; and with
the appellation of brethren they associated all the sentiments of
endearment that relation implied. To see men of the most contrary
characters and habits--the learned and the rude--the most polished,
and the most uncultivated--the inhabitants of countries alienated
from each other by institutions the most repugnant, and by contests
the most violent--forgetting their ancient animosity, and blending
into one mass, at the command of a person whom they had never
seen, and who had ceased to be an inhabitant of this world, must
have been an astonishing spectacle. Such a sudden assimilation of
the most discordant materials; such love issuing from hearts the
most selfish, and giving birth to a new race and progeny, could
be ascribed to nothing but a Divine interposition; it was an
experimental proof of the commencement of that kingdom of God--that
celestial economy, by which the powers of the future world are
imparted to the present."

_Mr. Stevens._--"It must have been a spectacle no less delightful to
the eye of the Christian than astonishing to the unbeliever; and had
the visible church always exhibited such a spectacle of union and
affection, her history would have been the records of her spiritual
triumphs, rather than of her persecutions and her miseries. But
her bonds of union have been broken asunder, and her love of the
brethren has been quenched in the bitter waters of strife. We
are the descendants of the holy men who first caught, and first
displayed the spirit of the Prince of Peace, but how little do we
resemble them! We imbibe the same faith, plead the same promises,
claim the same privileges, participate in the same spiritual
enjoyments, bear the same distinctive and relative character, and
anticipate the same high destiny; but we too often act as though
we were released from the obligations which they admitted and
discharged; and instead of attempting to convince sceptics and
unbelievers of the divinity of our Lord's mission, and the moral
efficacy of his death, by our union and our reciprocal affection, we
strengthen them in their infidelity by our anti-Christian spirit.
Can no remedy be devised to correct this noxious evil, which, like a
withering blight, tarnishes the moral lustre of all our distinctive
denominations, and does more to embitter the spirit, and extend the
triumphs of infidelity, than the most virulent works which issue
from her corrupt and hostile press?"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Why, Sir, I hope the evil is in some small
degree abated by the influence of our public institutions. Those
who, a few years since, were envious and jealous of each other, now
associate together on the most friendly terms. If the Bible Society
has not terminated the contest, it has been the means of concluding
a truce between them; and I flatter myself that there will be
no renewal of hostilities, even though some of the more bigoted
belonging to the different denominations should feel disposed to
revive them."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"I fear, Sir, you are rather too sanguine in
your expectations. In the little circle in which we move, in this
isolated spot of the religious world, the spirit of fraternal love
and union is cherished; but what commotion and strife prevail just
now between both the clerical and lay members of our own church!"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Yes, Sir, I know it and deplore it. It is the
spirit of dry formalism setting itself in array against the spirit
of vital Christianity; and the contest will be severe, but the issue
is certain--the Word of the Lord will prove more powerful than the
traditions of man."

_Mr. Stevens._--"I must confess that I am rather sanguine in my
calculations of the moral influence of the Bible Society on the best
and most active men of our age. Dr. Mason, of New York, says, in
the preface to a work which he has published--'Within a few years
there has been a manifest relaxation of sectarian rigour among
the different denominations in America, so that the spirit of the
gospel, in the culture of fraternal charity, has gained a visible
and growing ascendency. This happy alteration,' he adds, 'may be
attributed, in a great degree, to the influence of missionary and
Bible societies.'"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"And it is so amongst us to some extent. Till
the Bible Society arose, and gained a settlement in our land, we
had not an inch of neutral ground on which we could assemble, and
unite with each other in any religious enterprise; but now we have
the province of Goshen assigned us; and the air of that place is
so salubrious, the light so clear and brilliant, the atmosphere
so temperate and serene, and the harmony of its inhabitants so
profound, that we venerate it as the mystic inclosure in which we
have an emblematical representation of the celestial inheritance--in
which the spirits of the just live in closest union and sweetest
concord. May the catholicism of grace and truth wax stronger and
stronger, till Ephraim shall not envy Judah, nor Judah vex Ephraim;
the strife of sect being overcome and banished by the all-subduing
love of God our Saviour!"

_Mr. Roscoe._--"And what is it but prejudice, arising from ignorance
and misconception, which prevents this cordial union and fraternal
attachment? No one, I am conscious, who understands the genius of
Christianity, or who has ever felt his bosom glow with supreme
love to the Redeemer, can for a single moment presume to recommend
disunion amongst the members of the household of faith, though they
may occupy different compartments, and commune at separate tables.
It is prejudice that kept me aloof from Dissenters, and made me
unwilling to associate with them; because I understood that the
generality of them rejected the essential doctrines of Christianity;
but now my error is corrected, I esteem them as my brethren in
Christ; and as I hope to meet them in heaven, and unite with them
in the sublime exercises of that holy place, I feel a pleasure in
mingling with them on earth."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"I have lived on terms of intimacy with many
who do not belong to the church of which I am a minister, and some
of the happiest moments of my life have been spent in social and
spiritual intercourse with them. Our conversation, when we have
been together, has not turned on the questions on which we differ,
but on those on which we agree; and I have often retired from these
interviews with my mind relieved from its cares, and both animated
and enriched by the interchange of devout sentiment and feeling.
And in looking forward to the final consummation, I indulge a hope
of partaking of much holy delight in associating with Luther and
Calvin, with Fenelon and Claude, with Whitfield and Wesley, with
Hall, Foster and Chalmers, and other illustrious men, of the same
and other denominations, who have entered into rest. I have lived in
stormy times, but I have never increased the fury of the tempest. I
have seen the spirit of party raging with desolating violence, and
have known some of those, who have borne the image of the heavenly,
stand in opposing columns to each other in the field of fierce and
angry debate; but I have been enabled, through the grace of our
Lord Jesus Christ, to hold on my way unconnected with their unhappy
hostilities; and now it is with no common feelings of gratitude
and delight that I indulge the hope of leaving the church and the
world at a period when, if the temple of war is not actually closed,
yet our denominations are forming a more correct estimate of each
other's relative strength and importance, in the conflict which
we have to sustain against the combined powers of superstition
and infidelity; and this will necessarily tend to increase our
reciprocal esteem and confidence."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"If, in our intercourse with each other, we
always acted on your prudential maxim, of conversing on questions
of general agreement, rather than on controversial ones, the spirit
of discord would be exorcised from amongst us, and then we might, I
think, justly calculate on a more copious measure of the influences
of the Spirit poured down from on high, when we should intuitively
feel, by a force of evidence too powerful to be withstood, that
_God is love_, and that we never please him more than when we
embrace, with cordiality and esteem, all who bear his image, without
distinction of sect or party."

_Rev. Mr. Roscoe._--"In these sentiments of Christian liberality and
charity I now concur most heartily."




UNION WITHOUT COMPROMISE


The Rev. Mr. Ingleby, on resuming the discussion of the question
of union amongst the various denominations of believers in the
Divine origin of the faith of Christianity, made the following
very pertinent remarks:--"If it were the will of God that the
various denominations of Christians should all think and act alike,
as the tribes of Israel were required to do under the Levitical
dispensation, we should have laws laid down for our guidance with
the same minuteness and explicitness as was done for them. But such
is not the case. We have certain general principles laid down,
and the motives by which all our actions should be governed set
before us with clearness and precision, but we have no particular
directions as to the external form of church government. We are
therefore left free to adopt that ecclesiastical system which, after
careful examination, we find most in conformity with the spirit of
the New Testament."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"You mean, Sir, I presume, that we are left free
to choose either the Episcopal, or Presbyterian, or Congregational
form of church government?"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Yes, Sir; and though I do not profess to
be deeply read in casuistry, yet I believe that very much may be
collected from the facts and incidents recorded in Scripture, and
from the casual expressions of the sacred writers in favour of each
of these forms of church government."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"And so I think. We are not living under a law
laid down with minute exactness, like the ancient tribes of Israel,
but have the right of exercising our choice on these matters of
church polity, and our choice is determined by preference or
expediency, or both. That is, I may deem it expedient to be an
Episcopalian in one country, or a Presbyterian in another, or a
Congregationalist in a third; and I may, at the same time, most
decidedly prefer one of these modes of church government to either
of the other, as being, in my opinion, the nearest approach to
the teachings of the New Testament. To adopt such a principle as
this is, appears to me more in harmony with the spirit of the New
Testament dispensation, than putting in a claim for the Divine
right of Episcopacy, or Presbyterianism, or Congregationalism;
it is an equitable concession to others of the liberty we claim
for ourselves; and hence, without being guilty of any degree of
inconsistency, we can cultivate Christian fellowship with our
brethren of other denominations, without compromising our own
principles."

_Rev. Mr. Roscoe._--"You will still leave, I presume, as a question
open for discussion, the relative conformity of each mode of church
government to the New Testament model?"

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"Most certainly; and when discussions go on,
untainted by the dogmatism and acrimony of party predilections and
antipathies, and are conducted in a liberal and loving spirit, they
tend to give solidity to the foundation on which our relative union
is based; and show, at the same time, that it can be cemented and
perpetuated without any dishonourable compromise."

_Mr. Lewellin._--"I was present in a company some time since, when
an ingenious Scotchman made out, as he thought, a very strong claim
for the superiority of Presbyterianism to the other forms of church
government. Episcopacy, he remarked, has the monarchical element
too dominant in her constitution--_the clergy are everything;_ in
Congregationalism, the democratic element is too dominant--_the
people are everything_; but Presbyterianism unites the two elements,
and in about equal proportions _the clergy and the people act
together_--they are a combined power."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Ingenious, if not just. However, without
pausing to discuss this question, I think it is very plain that the
writers of the New Testament evince a much stronger predilection
for the facts and doctrines of the gospel than they do for its
rites and ceremonies--deeming the one essential to the integrity
of the faith, while the other is subordinate and non-essential;
and I think we cannot do better than imitate them; for after
all, the forms and ceremonies of church government are but as the
chaff to the wheat--the mere attire of a living personage, not
the person himself. I prefer Episcopacy to either of the other
forms, though I will not take upon myself the task of defending
every appendage which has been affixed to it; yet, with all my
predilections in its favour, if the pure faith of Christianity
were ejected from an Episcopal pulpit, _as it often is_, I would
go and worship in a Congregational chapel; and I have no doubt but
a spiritually-enlightened Presbyterian would rather listen to the
glad tidings of salvation in one of our churches, than to a merely
moral sermon in one of his own. In my opinion, the three distinct
orders of churches may be planted on the same soil, may grow in
harmony side by side; and without any compromise of principle, may
co-operate with each other, in combined movements, against either
their Papal or sceptical opponents, and feel also a high degree
of joyous satisfaction in witnessing each other's prosperity and
honour."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"Yet I still prefer fellowship with our own church,
while cherishing fraternal esteem and fellowship with our Christian
brethren of other churches."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Certainly. When we say that the members of
our church, and the various orders of Dissenters who have seceded
from it, ought, in obedience to the authority of the Lord Jesus
Christ, to cherish reciprocal esteem, and live in peaceful harmony,
we do not mean that they are to separate themselves from their own
communions, or cease to give them a decided preference."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"In that view of the case I heartily concur;
for if the spirit of a comprehensive brotherly love and fellowship
were to lead to alienation from our distinctive denominations, it
would want one of the evidences of being a peace-maker--healing
the breaches which party spirit has unhappily made amongst us. As
a member of a family ought to feel a stronger regard, and take a
deeper interest in its prosperity and happiness, than he is expected
to cultivate towards the community at large, so I think the member
of any individual Christian church, may and ought to cherish a
greater affection for his brethren with whom he lives on more
intimate terms of fellowship than he does for his fellow-disciples
in general."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"You have, Sir, very clearly expressed the view
I now entertain of our relative obligations. We are to do good
to all when we have an opportunity, but more especially to those
of the household of faith with whom we are united in church
fellowship--uniformly endeavouring, by our prayers, our influence,
our wealth, and our sympathy, to promote their individual and
collective prosperity and happiness."

_Rev. Mr. Roscoe._--"You are now leading us from the sentimental and
ceremonial to the practical department of Christian obligation, in
which I think, from motives of gratitude to our Divine Master, we
ought all to be increasingly active, provoking one another unto love
and good works. This will be acting more in harmony with our faith,
and prove more beneficial to ourselves and others than a rigid
adherence to any sectarian form. When returning home the other day
from one of my pastoral visitations, I met a very poor man, who had
a severe affliction in his family, and he said rather abruptly, 'I
wish, Sir, you would give us a sermon from the words of the apostle
John, 'But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother
have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how
dwelleth the love of God in him?' (1 John iii. 17).' I was not
surprised at this application, when I found that he had just been to
the Hall, the residence of a very wealthy professor of religion, to
ask some assistance for his distressed family, but had received only
a few words of vague sympathy and regret for his misfortunes."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Well may the apostle say--how dwelleth the
love of God in such a heart! But, alas, wealth too often proves a
curse to its possessor. How kindly and tenderly does the apostle
address us: 'My little children, let us not love in word, neither in
tongue, but in deed and in truth.'"

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"Our Divine Master exhibits himself as the model
for our imitation; making, at the same time, our love for each other
the test of the genuineness of our Christian character: 'A new
commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have
loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know
that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another' (John
xiii. 34, 35)."

_Mrs. John Roscoe._--"_As I have loved you!_--emphatic words,
expressive of the spirit we ought to cultivate towards all our
Christian brethren, especially the afflicted, and prescribing the
rule for our conduct towards them. If we imbibe this spirit and act
upon it, we shall then endeavour to cheer them with our sympathy in
the hours of their grief and mourning, and cheerfully draw from our
worldly resources to afford them relief when in want. I remember now
an anecdote told by the Rev. Mr. Jay:--A pious, but poor member of
his church being visited by one of the deacons, and presented with
five shillings as a church gift, with the remark, 'Here is a trifle
for your necessities,' replied, 'What you call a trifle, I call an
estate.'"

_Miss Roscoe._--"I believe, dear uncle, that you now have in your
congregation an organized society, labouring to promote the physical
as well as the spiritual good of the needy and destitute."

_Mrs. John Roscoe._--"O yes, we are working the principle of
practical benevolence, and on the basis of a comprehensive union;
and I am happy to say it works well in spite of the grumblers who
would rather sleep on and take their rest than be roused to action.
The gentlemen take the management of the domiciliary society, going
from house to house with tracts, &c., &c., and the ladies manage
the Dorcas society, which is in a very flourishing condition. In
addition to a pretty large number of subscribers, we have twenty
working members who meet once a fortnight for the purpose of making
clothes for the poor. Some of these are persons of wealth, others
are in moderate circumstances; and, as in the gentlemen's society,
some are church people, and some are Dissenters, you may there see
sitting in peaceful harmony, members of the various denominations,
all busily engaged in the same sort of labour, and heartily
prosecuting the same work."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"Then you have grumblers amongst you!"

_Mrs. Roscoe._--"Indeed, we have. They are a very prolific
family--they may be found everywhere, and the whole fraternity is
distinguished by a strong family likeness."

_Miss Roscoe._--"Do you give the clothes to the poor, or do you sell
them?"

_Mrs. John Roscoe._--"In general we sell what we make, yet very much
below the cost price; but in extreme cases we give clothing, and, in
addition to this, when any of those who require relief are ill, we
visit them, and we often find that a kind visit is esteemed as much,
if not more than our gratuities."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"I can easily believe that, because there is
great power in sympathy to alleviate the sorrows of the heart. We
cannot explain the action of moral power, nor conceive the mode
of its operation, however sensible we may be of its effects. What
power, for example, in a frown to depress! and in a smile to elevate
and tranquillize! What power in words both to cheer and sadden the
heart! _As I have loved you_--these expressive words should guide
our fraternal intercourse with our Christian brethren, who, when
they feel our sympathy to be real, will often attach a much greater
value to it than to any amount of pecuniary assistance."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"We are too apt to forget that our Christian
brethren, in common with ourselves, are children of one Father,
and that we are all now passing through a preparatory discipline
to fit us for a higher and purer condition of existence in another
world. If these great facts were more powerfully impressed on our
hearts, there would be more sympathy and more charity; the rich
would cheerfully administer to the wants of their poor brethren, and
those who have but little worldly substance to bestow, would more
often soothe and enliven them by their sympathy and good wishes.
Christian fellowship would then be more than a mere term--it would
be a reality."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Your remarks, Sir, are quite correct. And
here we see the wisdom as well as the love of our Redeemer in
grafting our obligations to the most intimate Christian fellowship
on the very constitution of our nature, which inclines us to live
in social intercourse; guarding us at the same time from the danger
of contracting a sectarian spirit by enjoining on us the duty of
doing good _unto all men_, as well as to those who belong to the
_household of faith_."

_Mr. Lewellin._--"It is to be lamented, Sir, that there are many
who do not keep pace in liberality of sentiment and feeling, and
generosity of disposition, with the denomination or church to
which they belong--they will not labour in the field of practical
benevolence, and they do not like to see others exerting themselves;
in fact, they will do nothing but find fault with the active
labourers, either impeaching the purity of their motives, or
predicting the failure, if not the pernicious results of their
efforts. And when these morbid grumblers happen to be imbued, as
is often the case, with a sectarian spirit, and take rank with
high churchmen or with bigoted Dissenters, the moment they see a
conjunction of the different orders, they tremble for the safety of
the ark of _their_ covenant, and raise a hue and cry against the
union of the sects--become bitter in their spirit and censorious
in their speech--and appear in a light very unbecoming the genuine
disciples of our Lord."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Such professors do essential injury, not only
to the honour of the church and denomination to which they belong,
but to the cause of religion in general. The evil which results
from the anti-Christian temper and spirit of these arrogant and
censorious professors, who usually contrive to attract more notice
than the rest of their fellow-members, is incalculable. It supplies
infidels with their most plausible topics of invective; it hardens
the conscience of the irreligious, weakens the hands of the good,
and is probably the principal obstruction to that ample effusion of
the Holy Spirit which is essential to the renovation of the world.
If, then, we wish to make any deep and permanent impression on the
sceptical and irreligious--to silence their objections and convince
them of the Divine origin of the faith which we profess--we must
correct our tempers--we must live in peace amongst ourselves,
discover no disposition to injure or annoy each other, and give
unequivocal proof that the questions on which we differ are the
subordinate tenets of revelation, which may be received or rejected
without affecting its truth, or impairing its strength; and, by a
union of affection and concentration of our talents, we must advance
in the beautiful development of our Christian life, remembering
that the wisdom which is from above is 'first pure, then peaceable,
gentle, and easy to be intreated; full of mercy and good fruits,
without partiality, and without hypocrisy.' When the pious members
of the Establishment and the various denominations of evangelical
Dissenters are brought to merge their speculative and ceremonial
differences in the cultivation and display of this Christian temper,
the eulogium pronounced on the primitive disciples may then with
truth be applied to us--'See how these Christians love one another!'"

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"The novelty of the sight would certainly command
attention; and though I am fully persuaded that nothing but a
supernatural power can renovate the human heart, yet such a display
of united affection might have a wondrous effect, almost approaching
that of a miracle, in the conversion of the world."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"If it be true that our personal happiness bears
a proportion to our conformity to the spirit and temper of Jesus
Christ, it is evident that a liberal-minded Christian must partake
of a much larger share of enjoyment than one who lives under the
influence of that sectarian bigotry which keeps him in a state of
alienation from his brethren of other communions."

_Mr. Stevens._--"Most certainly, Sir; and by your permission I will
now read you a paragraph with which I was very forcibly struck when
I first lighted upon it. The author is speaking of bigotry, and he
says, 'This sectarian and intolerant spirit can view no excellence
out of its own pale, and deems every opinion heresy that does not
bow to its authority. Its plans of doing good always betray the
selfishness of their origin; and unable from its very nature to
form designs commensurate with the grandeur of religion and the
necessities of the world, it not only refuses to co-operate with
Christians of another party in promoting the well-being of society
and the advancement of religion, but contemplates with jealousy and
often with abhorrence, the noblest efforts of benevolence, when not
performed under its exclusive auspices. Persons governed by such a
spirit cannot view with complacency the separate divisions of the
universal church, though there is nothing in their constitution
that necessarily militates against _the unity of the spirit_ and
_the bond of peace_. This unlovely bigotry narrows the range of
the intellect--perverts and contracts the best affections--and,
under its influence, even good men forget the charities of their
renewed nature, and sometimes prostitute their talents to bear
false witness against each other. To this bigotry, that religion,
whose very essence is love, is directly opposed. Christians who
imbibe the spirit of the New Testament, and who suffer that holy
book to operate with full force upon their minds, are distinguished
by a noble freedom from sectarian antipathies. They can say from
the heart, 'Grace be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in
sincerity.' Without verging to the extreme of latitudinarian
indifference, they can rejoice in the success of parties different
from their own, and they do not complain because 'devils are cast
out by those who follow not with them.' Every man is a friend and a
brother who consecrates his being to the glory of the Saviour, and
every society a church in whose temple Jesus evidently records his
name.'"

_Rev. Mr. Roscoe._--"Yes, Sir, I am conscious that a pious man,
who possesses the pure spirit of his religion, is at once the most
useful and the most happy man. As his happiness arises from sources
more refined than those to which the men of the world have access,
his usefulness is of a more important and more durable nature.
I remember an observation which was once made on a friend of my
own, when he withdrew from a select company to which he had been
communicating some benevolent scheme--'When he visits us he always
leaves something behind that is worth thinking of and worth talking
about.'"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Yes, Sir; as the spirit of the gospel is a
liberal so it is an active spirit. It does not wish to monopolize
the immunities of religion, but to diffuse them; and such is the
intensity and ardour of its benevolence that the meanest, the most
abject child of sorrow, the poor outcast from the common sympathies
of humanity, the forlorn object of woe whom few men would pity, whom
no man could save, are the partakers of its bounties."

_Mr. Roscoe._--"As the general well-being of society is essentially
benefited by the active benevolence of Christianity, may we not,
Sir, indulge a hope that the prosperity of vital religion in our
different communions, would be promoted by the cultivation of a
reciprocal affection?"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"There may be, I grant, external prosperity in
our churches, even while the vital spirit of religion is languishing
in the hearts of the people; as the oak may send forth its spreading
branches and luxuriant foliage, when at the heart the tree is hollow
and rotten. And perhaps the vital spirit of religion is exposed to
more danger in the season of external prosperity than in the season
of external adversity. When the congregation is large, and the
spirit of unanimity and liberality is generally displayed--when a
cordial attachment subsists between the pastors and their people;
and the lookers-on are heard to exclaim, _they are of one heart
and of one soul_, some may be tempted to forget from whom these
invaluable blessings proceed, and cherish a self-complacent, if not
an independent spirit. But I never knew vital religion flourish
amongst any people _who were not united_. The Spirit of the Holy
One never comes to breathe on the dry bones of the slain when the
valley echoes with the neighing of the horses, and the rattling of
the chariots of war. Wars must be made to cease, the bow must be
broken, and the spear cut in sunder--the chariots must be burned in
the fire, and the tranquillity of unruffled peace must reign over
the whole scene, ere he descends to unite the disjointed parts,
and animate the lifeless body. It is to the influence of the Holy
Spirit over the mind that we are to ascribe that portion of vital
religion which we enjoy. He still dwells amongst us, yet not in
the plenitude of his power. _Occasionally_ he descends in the
ministry of reconciliation, and effects a moral transformation on
the character of a large proportion of the people, as in the islands
of the Pacific Ocean; but in general, the exercise of his power
is restricted to a small number in our congregations, who are, at
distinct and distant intervals, made alive from the dead. But as
this is emphatically termed the dispensation of the Spirit, and as
the honour of glorifying Christ, in giving efficacy to the truth
which he has revealed and attested, is reserved for _Him_, to what
secondary cause shall we attribute his very partial communications,
except to the offence which our discords and alienation of
attachment have given him? If He require peace and affection in an
individual church, as the precursors of his gracious visitations,
does He not require the same amongst the separate divisions of his
universal church?"

_Mr. Lewellin._--"Most unquestionably, Sir, though the fact has
not produced that deep impression on the popular mind which its
importance demands. But the day of peace, I hope, is dawning upon
us, and the union of Christians of various denominations will, I
trust, be drawn closer as time moves on in its course. The voice
of prayer is more frequently and more generally heard for the
outpouring of Divine influence on the external means of grace, and
already we see here and there some verdant spots of spiritual beauty
and of life, amidst the surrounding desolations of evil and of
death; thus exhibiting to us, as in miniature, the future state of
the whole moral world, 'when judgment shall dwell in the wilderness,
and righteousness remain in the fruitful field; and when the work
of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of righteousness,
quietness and assurance for ever.'"

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"The miraculous gifts with which the apostles
were endowed, while they had to contend 'against principalities,
against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world,
against spiritual wickedness in the high places' of pagan idolatry,
and social profligacy, have long since ceased, with the exigency
which called them forth; but the renewing and sanctifying agency
of the Spirit remains, and will continue to the end of time--the
express declaration of our Saviour not admitting of a doubt of its
perpetuity:--'And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you
another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever.' And if,
as we have reason to believe, his extraordinary outpouring on our
churches will not take place till we are united in the bonds of
peace, it behoves each individual Christian to cultivate the spirit
of concord, with the utmost degree of vigilance and caution. To our
prayers for his concurring testimony with the word of life, we must
add a watchfulness over our own tempers, lest we should be involved
in the charge of preventing the bestowal of the blessing which we
solicit, by grieving the Agent on whose will it depends."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Your remarks, Sir, are just, and I wish they
were deeply engraven on the heart of every Christian, by the Spirit
of the living God; and then the ministration of righteousness,
intrusted to us, would display a glory surpassing the brightest
emanation of the Divine presence which the annals of the church
record. Then we should see the prejudices of the people, which now
obstruct the progress of pure evangelical religion, giving way; and
the result would bear a spiritual resemblance to the blessed effects
produced by the descent of the angel of Bethesda."

_Mr. Lewellin._--"May we not suppose, Sir, that the general
impression which is produced amongst the pious of all denominations
of the absolute necessity of the outpouring of the Spirit on the
labours of ministers at home, and of missionaries in foreign parts,
viewed in connection with the growing liberality and esteem we
cherish towards each other, is one of the spiritual signs which
indicate the bestowal of the blessing so earnestly implored?"

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"I think we may. It is the beginning of
that great work which the Divine Spirit will complete when the
fulness of the time comes, and the effects of which being of a
moral and spiritual nature, will continue to bless the world after
the subordinate agents of its production have entered into rest.
'Nevertheless, we, according to his promise, look for new heavens
and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.'"

_Mr. Lewellin._--"And as this union and affection will form one of
the most powerful evidences of the divinity of our Lord's mission,
it will, at the same time, be a practical refutation of some of the
charges which have been brought against Christianity, as though it
had an anti-social and repulsive tendency; and it will also exhibit
the finest representation of the internal economy of the heavenly
world which can be given. _There_ is diversity of rank but unity of
thought; and though the various orders of beings may occupy superior
and subordinate stations under the government of the Eternal
King, yet no one is envious of another's elevation, or jealous of
another's influence."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"There is one circumstance connected with our
entrance into heaven, which I think ought not to be overlooked.
It is this. When we enter, or when we are anticipating that
great event, we shall place no dependence on our distinctive
peculiarities; nor advert to them, except to express our regret
on account of the evil effects which they too often produce. At
that period in the history of our being, the mind will be too
deeply absorbed in the contemplation of its specific character
and condition--will be too solemnly affected by the anticipation
of its final destiny, and will feel too deeply abased, under a
consciousness of its utter unworthiness of the Divine favour, to
dwell even for a moment on any other subject than its redemption
from all evil and from all misery by the death of the Lord Jesus
Christ. In comparison with this, every other subject that has
engrossed our attention, or interested our feelings, will vanish
away, as a thing of nought; and after having thus disengaged
ourselves from all association with the minor questions, which now
agitate, and divide, and dishonour us, we shall be free to enter the
joy of our Lord, as sinners redeemed by his blood, rather than as
saints belonging to any one denomination of Christians."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"I have just had, Sir, a practical illustration
of the truthfulness of your observations. I was sent for early,
a few mornings ago, to visit a pious member of my own church,
and in the evening of the same day, at the request of a friend,
I went to see a member of a Dissenting church, a very godly man;
and, to the rejoicing of my heart, I found them breathing the same
spirit--avowing the same belief--deriving consolation from the same
source--and giving utterance to the joyful anticipations of mingling
their grateful feelings together in the same heavenly temple, where
they hope to serve the Lord day and night in harmony and peace."

_Mr. Lewellin._--"And, as we shall mingle together in heaven,
I presume, Sir, we shall _know_ each other _there_. Some pious
Christians entertain doubts on this subject, but as it is one which
has such a tendency to reconcile our minds to the departure of our
friends, I cannot avoid cherishing it with fond attachment."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"Yes, Sir, some good people have their doubts
on the subject; but I wonder how they can entertain them. Even
though on such a subject we receive no light from the testimony of
Scripture, still it is so congenial with the dictates of enlightened
reason, and the warm attachments of pure friendship, that I am at a
loss to conceive how any one can disbelieve it.

    'Deep, deep the love we bear unto the dead!
    Th' adoring reverence that we humbly pay
    To one who is a spirit, still partakes
    Of that affectionate tenderness we own'd
    Towards a being, once, perhaps, as frail
    And human as ourselves.'"

_Mr. Roscoe._--"Nothing, in my opinion, is more calculated to dispel
the fear of death, than a firm belief that we are going home to
dwell in our Father's house along with our departed brethren in
Christ, whom we shall meet and recognize. This thought, which is so
gratifying to our feelings, is supported, I think, by the language
of the New Testament."

_Rev. Mr. Ingleby._--"I think so too. The apostle, when writing
to the Colossians, says, 'That we may present every man perfect
in Christ Jesus;' by which, says Dr. Paley, I understand St. Paul
to express his hope and prayer, that at the general judgment of
the world, he might present the fruits of his ministry perfect
in every good work; and if this be rightly interpreted, then it
affords a manifest and necessary inference that the saints in a
future life will meet and be known again to one another; for how,
without knowing again his converts in their new and glorified state,
could St. Paul desire or expect to present them at the last day?
The celebrated Baxter says, and I think there is much force in the
statement, 'I must confess as the experience of my own soul, that
the expectation of loving my friends in heaven, principally kindles
my love to them on earth. If I thought I should never know them,
and consequently never love them after this life is ended, I should
in reason number them with temporal things, and love them as such;
but I now delightfully converse with my pious friends, in a firm
persuasion that I shall converse with them for ever; and I take
comfort in those of them that are dead, or absent, as believing I
shall shortly meet them in heaven, and love them with a heavenly
love that shall there be perfected.'"

"Then," said Miss Roscoe, "death will merely suspend our intercourse
with our friends for a little while--it will not break it off for
ever. This is a thrilling subject of thought and meditation. We
part, but shall meet again in a purer and happier world, and in a
more glorious form, and then we part no more. We may then hail Death
as a herald of mercy, instead of shrinking from his approach as the
King of Terrors."

_Rev. Mr. Guion._--"Then, when mingling together, if we ever advert
to the scenes of our earthly existence, as we probably shall often
do, we shall rejoice that our union is now complete, unbroken by any
discordant opinion; and, while exulting amidst the unfading glories
of the celestial world, we shall gratefully ascribe our salvation to
the free and discriminating grace of God, our Father and Redeemer."




THE STAGE COACH.


The time had now come for my departure from Fairmount, which I
quitted with much regret, Mr. Lewellin accompanying me as far as
London, where it was arranged that I should stay a few days with
him previous to returning home. Our kind friends were very urgent
in pressing us to remain a little longer; but business required Mr.
Lewellin's immediate attention, and I was getting anxious to resume
my pastoral duties. We left Fairmount in the carriage early in the
morning, and reached the turnpike gate about a quarter of an hour
before the mail came up. There was one outside passenger, and two
inside. Having bidden adieu to Mr. Stevens, who had accompanied
us thus far, we stepped in, heard the well-known signal from
the guard, _All's right!_ and felt ourselves moving towards the
imperial city at a rapid pace. Though I have not, like Lavater,
studied physiognomy, and have often experienced the fallacy of its
conclusions, yet on this occasion, as on most others, I began to
examine and note carefully the features of the two strangers who
sat opposite me. The one was a Friend, who had long since passed
the meridian of life. He was dressed in the neat garb of his order,
had a fine Roman nose, keen blue eyes rather deeply set, and a
countenance whose expression of intelligence and benignity strongly
prepossessed me in his favour. But had his general appearance
been less attractive, I should have felt a profound respect, as
I once had a mother who spoke the plain language, and taught me
to speak it in my younger days; and though in riper years, I left
the denomination of my youth, yet I still revere that interesting
Society of professing Christians. The other was a lusty gentleman,
about the age of fifty, but there was no feature in his face that
gave me any pleasure.

We rode on in silence, till we came to D----s, where we changed
horses; and while we were waiting for the guard, who was detained
at the post office, we amused ourselves in looking at a group of
boys who were playing at trap-ball, in the market-place. The stout
gentleman (whom I shall call Mr. Sykes) said, pointing to the
boys, "There is perfect happiness." As no one offered to make any
reply to this remark, Mr. Lewellin observed, "Perhaps, Sir, their
happiness is not perfect. In the midst of their gambols, and while
feeling elated with the high honour of winning the game, the sudden
recollection of a lesson yet unlearned, that must be said to-morrow,
may perchance give them a pang." This natural remark, expressed
in the most good-natured manner, gave offence to Mr. Sykes, who,
assuming that demeanour of defiance which appeared most natural to
him, said, "And pray, Sir, do you not suppose that the happiness of
childhood is the most perfect happiness which mortals ever enjoy!"
"It ought not to be, Sir," replied my friend in a very modest tone.
"Ought not to be, Sir!" Mr. Sykes returned, with some degree of
sarcastic warmth; "then, Sir, how must you have spent those days
of innocent mirth, not to be able to look back on them with envy!"
This sarcasm roused the spirit of my friend Lewellin, who, though
mild, was not disposed to be run down by unprovoked insolence; and
he said, in a tone somewhat elevated, "Then I presume, Sir, you look
back to the days of your childhood, and sigh over joys departed,
never to return; but permit me to ask, how have you spent the years
of manhood, not to have yet attained the possession of a much more
rational and exalted happiness than you enjoyed when you were flying
a kite or spinning a top? If you think, Sir, that I misimproved
my boyish days, by not acquiring that perfection of happiness
which they generally bring, you force me to conclude that you have
misimproved the years of manhood, if in the decline of life you are
compelled to look back to your childish days, as the happiest you
have ever known."

Mr. Sykes, perceiving, from the smartness of this reply, that he
stood no chance of carrying his point, without assistance, turned
round, and appealed to the Friend, who did not appear to have taken
any interest in the question. "Why, truly," said the Friend, "I
think with my neighbour opposite, that if thou wert more happy when
a boy, than thou art now, thou canst not have improved thy time as
thou oughtest to have done." "Well," said Mr. Sykes, "as this is
the first company in which I have ever heard the sentiment called
in question, I suppose I am along with a class of human beings of
a new order." "Perhaps thou art," rejoined the Friend, "and at any
rate thou must confess, that this new order of human beings, as thou
art pleased to term us, excel all thy former associates in one very
important point." "In what point, Sir?" inquired Mr. Sykes, in his
native tone. "Why in this: while thou and thy friends have outlived
your happiest days, we are now enjoying ours. Hence, while it is to
our advantage to live in a state of manhood, it would have been to
yours, to have continued in a state of childhood."

This remark re-established the reign of silence, which continued
undisturbed, till some children ran out from a few miserable-looking
huts, which stood near the roadside, and followed the coach for a
considerable distance, attempting to excite our generosity, by their
piteous moans, and antic gestures. "There, Sir," said Mr. Sykes,
"If you look out, you will see the picture of perfect happiness."
Our sagacious Friend, who appeared to have high purposes revolving
in his breast when not engaged in conversation, was rather startled
by this observation, as he had not seen the group of juvenile
beggars, by which we were annoyed; but on looking out, as requested,
he shrewdly replied, "I was not aware that perfect happiness was
reduced so low in life, as to become a common beggar." "Poverty,
Sir," said Mr. Sykes, "is no disgrace, and poor people are happy
as well as rich." "Very true," replied the Friend; "but it is a
disgrace to any parents, to train up their children to the practice
of begging. These children certainly look healthy and sprightly, but
if thou wert to be present when they return from an unsuccessful
race, thou wouldest see a picture of perfect sorrow." "Well,"
said Mr. Sykes, "they shall have one happy day," and immediately
tossed out a few halfpence. "Now," said the Friend, "if thou wilt
look back, probably thou wilt see a violent contention between
them; some crying because unable to get the prize, and some
fighting over the division of the spoil." "I suppose, Sir," Mr.
Sykes remarked sarcastically, "no one ever fought over any of your
scattered gifts." "I never saw any," the Friend replied, "as I am
not in the habit of scattering my gifts with an indiscriminate
hand; nor do I approve of those acts, misnamed charitable, which
have an evil tendency." "But, Sir," said Mr. Sykes, "what evil can
result from giving a few pence to some poor miserable-looking boys
and girls?" "Why," replied the Friend, "thou hast seen one evil
in the contention which immediately followed, but this is not the
greatest; these children who are initiated into the begging system
at such an early period of life, are taught the art of deception;
they are thrown off from the resources of industry and frugality,
on the precarious supplies of charity; and if from the influence of
vagrancy, they are not led to thieving, they will never feel any
reluctance to receive support from the parish rate. Charity is a
virtue which we all admire, and which we ought to cultivate; but
I have long thought, that where its bounties are not administered
with discretion, society sustains more injury, than it derives
advantage." "Discretion! O yes, discretion!" said Mr. Sykes, "is
a great virtue; with Sir John Falstaff it is the better part of
valour, with you of charity; but in my opinion it is more frequently
an apology for cowardice, or for covetousness."

[Illustration: JAMES GODWIN. W. L. THOMAS.

MISTAKEN CHARITY.--MR. SYKES' THEORY REFUTED.

Vol. ii. p. 55.]

We soon after parted with Mr. Sykes, when our sage Friend addressing
himself to Mr. Lewellin, said, "I have no doubt but the passenger
who has just left us has some excellencies, but he does not excel
in the art of rendering himself agreeable, an art which few learn,
and fewer practise; but it is one of great importance to personal
dignity and relative comfort."

His place in the coach was soon occupied by a young man in a
red coat, who was going to a fox-hunt near M----. He was very
loquacious, but his conversation turned principally on horses, and
dogs, and game, and the various qualifications of a good shot.
Mr. Lewellin made several efforts to introduce other topics, but
he could not succeed, as no pointer ever stood truer to his bird,
than he did to his favourite theme. He told us of his hair-breadth
escapes, of the fatigues which he had endured, and the feats which
he had achieved, with as much glee as the huntsman throws off at
a chase; and dwelt with peculiar delight on his good fortune the
preceding day, when out of twenty-five who started, he was the
only one _in at the death_, and exhibited the _brush_ as the proud
memorial of his honour. After he had told and re-told his tales,
which gave no one pleasure but himself, he fell into a dead silence,
hummed "Old Towler," and commenced beating a sort of tattoo with
his fingers on the coach window. At length, turning himself to
the Friend who sat by his side, and whose patriarchal simplicity
appeared to amuse him, he said, with an air of low satire, "I
believe, Sir, your sect are not much given to such sports?" "Why,
no," replied the Friend, "we have too much humanity, to attempt
to extract pleasure from the sports which inflict torture on dumb
animals." "I have read," said the sportsman, "all your objections;
but, Sir, they have no point--they don't hit the mark--nature
points to game, and we are to follow. I love the sound of the horn,
more than the silence of meditation." "I have no doubt," said the
Friend, "that thou dost, but thou shouldst remember, that some
prefer silence, to noise." "I take you, Sir; you intend to say,
that you would rather have silence, than my conversation." "I have
no objection," the Friend replied, "to conversation, when it is
interesting or profitable, but thou must be aware, that the present
company take no interest in the detail of thy field achievements."
"Well, Sir," said the sportsman, "I have no objection to turn the
conversation to a graver subject; and as I am a young man, just
beginning to turn my attention to religion, you will permit me to
ask you one question, which puzzles me. It is this, Sir: As we have
so many religions in this kingdom, which is the best?" "Why," said
the Friend, "that which makes the simple wise, and teaches young men
to cultivate the grace of modesty." "Very smart, Sir: then you think
such a religion would do me good?" "I think it would."

When the sportsman left us, his place was immediately occupied by
a gentleman who, as I afterwards learned, had lately returned to
England, after an absence of many years. He was an interesting and
intelligent looking man; and I flattered myself from his general
appearance, that we should have agreeable society during the rest
of our journey. Nor was I disappointed. He was rather reserved
at first, but after Mr. Lewellin and I had engaged for some time
in a desultory conversation, he fell in with us, and willingly
contributed his share. There is a strong propensity in some minds
to sacrifice truth, in narration and description, especially when
relating their own adventures. They will not utter direct and
palpable falsehood, but they are so accustomed to exaggeration
and high colouring, that a man who respects his own reputation
will never venture to repeat their statements. Their design is to
produce _effect_, and hence they often leave the beaten path of
sober truth to amuse or astonish their hearers with the fanciful
or the extravagant. But nothing of this kind was visible in our
companion; as he gave us no description of persons, of places, or of
things, which staggered our belief. He had sailed on the boisterous
sea, without having just escaped the horrors of shipwreck; he had
passed through woods and mountains, without encountering brigands
or assassins; he had resided in crowded cities, and had traversed
lonely wastes, where he met with no flattering attentions from the
great, or rude insults from the vulgar. He had travelled through the
greater part of Europe, had visited the East and West Indies, and
had spent the last two years in America: but intended now to fix his
abode in his native country, where he said he hoped to rest in the
same grave with his fathers.

"You have seen, Sir," I remarked, "a great part of the world; but as
you intend to fix your final residence in Old England, I take for
granted that you have not discovered any country which rivals her in
your estimation."

"No, Sir," he replied, "I have not. I love England--I love her
changing seasons, and her fruitful soil--her fine national
character--her political constitution, and that spirit of liberty,
both civil and religious, which she cherishes and which she
diffuses--I love everything that is English; and I disown the
Briton who is not enthusiastic in the praise of his country."

"The love of liberty," I remarked, "is a passion which gives a
peculiar and powerful energy to our national character; but you must
confess, Sir, that this passion is not exclusively ours. America
cherishes it with an equal degree of ardour."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, "she does, but her love of liberty is a
selfish passion. She has fought for her own freedom, and she has
won the laurels, but she continues to enslave others. When the
foot of a poor captive touches the soil of Britain, his chains
burst from around him; his life is taken under the protection of
the law; no one can insult him with impunity; he is as safe in his
hut, as the lordly baron is within the walls of his castle. But in
the United States of America, there are upwards of three millions
of human beings, now living in a state of slavery, bought and sold
like cattle--subjected to the cruelty of men, in whose bosoms
every atom of humanity has long since been annihilated. What, Sir,
is freedom, where all are not free--where the greatest of God's
blessings is limited with impious caprice to the colour of the skin?
Having bled at every pore, rather than submit to wear the yoke of
a foreign authority, why does she not, amid all her prosperity
and improvement, act a just and generous part towards her black
population? She is worse than the chief butler of Pharaoh, who, when
he had gained his freedom, merely forgot his fellow-prisoner: but
she remembers those who were once in bondage with her, and rivets
the chains of slavery still closer upon them. She may vaunt herself
on the love of liberty, and on her rising greatness in the scale of
nations; but as long as the groans of three millions of human beings
resound through her land without obtaining redress, she will have
a badge of infamy affixed to her national character, from which no
virtues will ever redeem her. We did a noble deed when we abolished
the slave-trade, but we did a still nobler deed when we abolished
slavery. We have thus set America a good example, which, in spite of
all opposition, she will some day follow."

We were very much pleased with the polite manners and the
interesting conversation of this gentleman, who formed a striking
contrast to our other coach companions. On taking leave of him at
the Swan with two Necks, we exchanged cards, when we found that the
stranger's name was Wilcox, and he exacted a promise from me that I
would call and see him before I left London.

A few days after this, as I sat in Mr. Lewellin's front parlour
listening to the strange cries of London, and observing the
countenances of the numerous pedestrians, who, with hurried steps,
passed to and fro, as though each was intent on some great purpose,
I saw the postman at the door, who brought me a letter, which
on opening I found to be from our interesting fellow-traveller,
requesting that we would dine with him on the following day. We
accepted the invitation, and spent a very pleasant evening together.

On this occasion Mr. Wilcox informed us that he had been pressed
to sign a petition for the repeal of the Maynooth grant; but had
declined doing so, because he knew nothing about its origin, or the
reasons which induced the government to make it; adding that, as a
general rule, he thought America acted more wisely than we do on all
such questions; she repudiates a _state religion_, and therefore
leaves every religious sect to act and provide for itself. I then
gave him a brief history of the matter as follows:--On the 14th of
January, 1794, the Roman Catholics of Ireland presented a memorial
to the government, praying for permission to erect a college for
the education of their priests, who, up to this time, had been
compelled to get their education in foreign countries; stating in
their memorial, that they were both able and willing to build the
college, and defray its current expenditure at their own expense.
Their prayer was granted: and to their astonishment the Irish
Parliament voted a grant of £8000 per annum towards its support,
which in the year 1807 was increased to £13,000. No pledge was given
that it should be a permanent grant, and as a proof of this, in the
year 1799 it was withheld altogether, and during that year they
were compelled to do what they said, when they declared that they
were able and willing to defray its expenses by their own voluntary
contributions.[9]

  [9] In 1845 Sir Robert Peel introduced a measure, and carried it, to
  increase this grant to nearly £30,000 a-year.

"It seems somewhat strange," said Mr. Wilcox, "that the government
should vote a large sum of money, when they are told that it
is neither expected nor needed. To account for such an act of
profligate expenditure, we must suppose there was a strong
undercurrent of political influence forcing them to do so."

"Why, Sir, the fact is, that Ireland was at this time, and for
a long time after, in a strongly excited state; one outburst
of popular tumult succeeded another, with so much rapidity and
violence, that our leading statesmen, both Whigs and Tories,
became alarmed, and they hit upon the expedient of attempting to
conciliate the priests, by proposing to take their church into union
with the state, and thus render them independent of the voluntary
contributions of their people; and this munificent generosity in
behalf of the Maynooth College, was the gilded bait of allurement.
However, that projected union is now abandoned as a Utopian vagary;
for the Roman Catholics disdain to come into ecclesiastical
fellowship with Protestants, and therefore common sense requires,
that as they are resolved to stand by themselves, they should be
left to do what they said they were able and willing to do--educate
and support their clergy by their own contributions."

"I think the principle is bad," said Mr. Wilcox, "both politically
and morally, which compels one sect to educate and support the
clergy of another sect. There is an outrage committed on the
conscience of an enlightened Protestant, if he be compelled to
contribute to the education and support of the Roman Catholic
clergy, not simply because they are the ministers of another church,
but because they are ministers who, in his estimation, reject the
essential doctrines of Christianity, and substitute in their place,
dangerous and fatal heresies; and not only so, but he believes, and
their past history confirms him in the belief, that they constitute
the vital, the most active, and the most unscrupulous part of an
organized conspiracy, whose object is to extinguish both civil and
religious liberty throughout the world."

"Toleration," said Mr. Lewellin, "is all that such a dangerous set
of men ought to receive under a Protestant government, and to that I
should not object; but it is an act of legalized injustice to compel
me to pay for the training and comfortable support of Roman Catholic
priests."

Mr. Wilcox remarked, "We don't punish the footpad till he has
committed his crime; but we should deem the wealthy traveller
a maniac at large, who would voluntarily contribute towards
the training of such desperadoes. I will certainly, now that I
understand the matter, sign for the repeal of the grant, and do
all in my power to hasten it. Indeed, I would not give my vote to
any parliamentary candidate, unless he pledged himself against the
continuance of this very obnoxious grant."

"My attachment to Christianity," said Mr. Lewellin, "makes me revolt
against this offensive grant, as my loyalty to our queen would make
me abhor a proposition to contribute to the training of traitors, to
subvert her throne and bring her to the block."[10]

  [10] When Lord John Russell was speaking in favour of the measure
  brought before the house by Sir Robert Peel in 1845, to increase
  the grant to nearly £30,000 per annum, he said--"But if you found
  you were doing that which was mischievous to the community, and
  that the religious scruples of the community would not allow of the
  continuance of the grant, or, with reference to civil and political
  reasons, you found that those you meant to be teachers of religion
  had become the teachers and conductors of rebellion; if I say," his
  lordship added, "you found from any of these causes that there was
  ground sufficient to refuse this grant, then I can see no valid
  reasons why any compact should restrain you, or why, upon strong
  grounds of this kind, the house would not be justified in declaring
  that it would give no further allowance." (See Hansard's _Debates_,
  v. 3, p. 92, session 1845.) The Right Hon. William Gladstone, M.P.,
  recorded his opinion of this grant, before Sir Robert Peel brought
  forward his measure in 1845. "In principle the grant is wholly
  vicious, and it will be a thorn in the side of these countries as
  long as it is continued." There are several reasons, which, in the
  judgment of Lord John Russell, would justify the discontinuance
  of this grant, without subjecting our government to the charge of
  violating any existing compact; but I merely mention the following,
  which I give from the speech of his lordship: if "_the religious
  scruples of the community would not allow of the continuance of
  it_." Now let us see how the case actually stands, and then we shall
  be able to form a correct judgment of what the British government
  and we ourselves ought to do. It is an undisputed fact, that the
  measure of 1845 was forced through parliament in direct opposition
  to the most unequivocal expression of hostility on the part of the
  religious community, of all denominations; and their hostility to
  its continuance is increasing in inveteracy and strength as time
  moves on in its course. I am at a loss to conceive how any one
  except a Roman Catholic who has a beneficial interest in this money
  grant, or a lukewarm Protestant, who cares no more for the spiritual
  religion of the New Testament than he does for the legendary
  tales of Popery, can come forward as its advocate and supporter.
  The Catholics say they are able and willing to support their own
  religion and its institutions. Let them do so; but do not compel us
  to work with them, when we believe that their religion, with its
  institutions, is the greatest curse that ever has been inflicted on
  man since the Fall; and when we believe that its clergy, if they had
  the power, would immediately establish the Inquisition amongst us,
  and at once consign us to torture and to death, if we refused to bow
  down and to do homage to their pontiff and his myrmidons.




A SABBATH IN LONDON.


In the institution of the Christian ministry, we have one of the
most salutary provisions ever made to promote the improvement and
happiness of man. If we suppose, with the enemies of Christianity,
that it is of human origin, and that its functions are discharged by
human agents, who are actuated and governed by selfish or ambitious
motives, still it will occupy, in the estimation of every wise man,
a high station, as a powerful ally to the cause of patriotism and
of virtue. It enjoins on the various ranks and orders of society
submission to the powers that be, and reverence for God; and it
explains and enforces, with the utmost precision, our relative
duties towards each other; while the veneration in which it is
generally held in this kingdom is favourable to its influence. To
say that every one is strictly virtuous who listens to its maxims
of wisdom, would be to advance an assertion which facts would
contradict; but if we judge from the present state of society, we
shall be compelled to admit that there is a larger portion of virtue
amongst those who attend upon a stated ministry, than among those
who treat it with neglect and scorn. Hence its abolition would be a
national evil, as disastrous to our moral improvement and happiness,
as the triumphs of political anarchy would be to the well-balanced
constitution of the British Empire.

But even this institution, with all its advantages, would prove
comparatively useless were it not for the appointment of the
Christian Sabbath; for such is the ascendency which the cares,
the pleasures, the fascinations, and the commerce of the world
have acquired over the public mind, that very few would have an
opportunity to benefit by it, unless some specific portion of time
was set apart for this express purpose. If the husbandman were
compelled to toil in the field, and the mechanic to labour in the
shop--if the tradesman, the merchant, and the other members of the
community had to devote themselves to their respective avocations
without any intermission, except what caprice or indolence might
dictate, the minister of the gospel might faithfully proclaim all
the words which relate to the life to come, but he would not be
surrounded by a large and an attentive audience. The temple would
be forsaken, and the powers of _this_ world would so engross the
attention of men, that those of the next would be generally, if not
universally disregarded. To prevent this fatal evil, one day in
seven is set apart, by the immediate authority of God, which we are
commanded to devote to the exercises of private and public worship;
but alas! how many treat this sacred injunction with contempt. Some
in the higher ranks of life, who disdain to be thought religious,
employ it as a day for travelling or for feasting; and multitudes
of the lower orders, regard it as a day either for pleasure or for
dissipation.

On the Sabbath after my arrival in London, as I was walking down
Bridge Street on my way to Surrey Chapel, I saw a party of young
people whose gaiety of manner ill accorded with the sanctity of
the day, and just as I was passing them I heard one say, "Indeed I
think we shall do wrong; my conscience condemns me; I must return."
"There can be no harm," replied another, "in taking an excursion on
the water, especially as we intend to go to chapel in the evening."
"I must return," rejoined a female voice; "my conscience condemns
me. What will father say if he hears of it?" By this time they had
reached the bridge, and the foremost of the party was busily engaged
with a waterman, while the rest stood in close debate for some
minutes, when they all moved forward towards the water.

I watched the party as they went down the stairs to the river.
Two of the gentlemen stepped into the boat, two more stood at the
water's edge, and the females were handed in one after another; but
I could perceive great reluctance on the part of the one who had
previously objected, till at length she yielded to the importunities
of her companions, and the boat was pushed off. It was a fine
morning, though rather cold. Many, like myself, were gazing on
them, when a naval officer called to them through the balustrades
and said, "A pleasant voyage to you." One of the gentlemen arose
to return the compliment, but, from some cause which I could not
perceive, he missed his footing and fell into the water. This
disaster threw the whole party into the utmost consternation; and
each one, instead of retaining his seat, rushed to the side of the
boat over which their companion had fallen, by which the boat was
upset, and all were instantaneously plunged into the river. The
scene which followed, when the spectators beheld this calamity,
exceeded any I had ever witnessed. Some females screamed, the
passers-by crowded together to the parapet of the bridge, and
everything was bustle and excitement; boats immediately put off;
and in a few minutes I had the satisfaction of seeing the watermen
rescue one, and another, and another from a premature grave. Having
picked up every one they could find, the different boats were rowed
to shore, where some medical gentlemen were in waiting. But when the
party met together, no language can describe the horror depicted on
every countenance when they found that two were still missing.

"Where's my sister?" said the voice which had said, only a few
minutes before, "There can be no harm in taking an excursion on the
water, especially as we intend to go to chapel in the evening."

"Where's Charles?" said a female, who had appeared the most gay and
sprightly when I first saw them.

At length two boats, which had gone a considerable distance up
the river, were seen returning; and on being asked if they had
picked up any one, they replied, "Yes; two." This reply electrified
the whole party, and some wept for joy.

[Illustration: SABBATH PLEASURE SEEKERS.

Vol. ii. page 64.]

"Here's a gentleman," said a waterman as he was coming up to the
foot of the stairs, "but I suspect he's dead."

"Where's the lady?" said her brother, "Is she safe?"

"She is in the other boat, Sir."

"Is she alive?--Has she spoken?"

"No, Sir, she has not spoken, I believe."

"Is she dead; O tell me!"

"I fear she is, Sir."

The bodies were immediately removed from the boats to a house in
the vicinity, and every effort was employed to restore animation.
In little more than ten minutes it was announced that the gentleman
began to breathe, but there was no allusion made to the lady. Her
brother sat motionless, absorbed in the deepest melancholy, till the
actual decease of his sister was announced, when he started up and
became almost frantic with grief; and though his companions tried to
comfort him, yet he refused to hear the words of consolation.

"O my sister! my sister! Would to God I had died for her!"

They were all overwhelmed in trouble, and knew not what to do. "Who
will bear the heavy tidings to our father?" said the brother, who
paced the room backwards and forwards. "O! who will bear the heavy
tidings to our father?" He paused; a death-like silence pervaded the
whole apartment. He again burst forth in the agonies of despair--"I
forced her to go against the dictates of her conscience; I am her
murderer; I ought to have perished, and not my sister. Who will bear
the heavy tidings to our father?"

"I will," said a gentleman, who had been unremitting in his
attentions to the sufferers.

"Do you know him, Sir?"

"Yes, I know him."

"O! how can I ever appear in his presence! I enticed my only sister
to an act of disobedience, which has destroyed her!"

How the father received the intelligence, or what moral effect
resulted from the disaster, I never heard, but it suggests a few
reflections which I wish to press upon the attention of my readers.
As the Sabbath is instituted for the purpose of promoting your moral
improvement and happiness, never devote its sacred hours to pleasure
and recreations. He who has commanded you to keep it holy, will not
suffer you to profane it with impunity. He may not bring down upon
you the awful expressions of his displeasure while you are in the
act of setting his authority at open defiance, but there is a day
approaching when you must stand before him as your judge. And can
you anticipate the solemnities of that day, while continuing in a
course of sin, with any other than the most fearful apprehensions?
You may, like many, suppose that that day is very far off; but you
may be undeceived by a sudden visitation of Providence; and in a
moment may be removed from amongst your gay companions, to appear in
his presence. And should this be the case, with what terror-struck
amazement will you look on the awful scene around you; with what
fearful and agonizing emotions will you listen to the final
sentence--_Depart!_

Resist the _first_ temptation to evil, or your ruin may be the
inevitable consequence. "Indeed I think we shall do wrong; my
conscience condemns me; I must return," said the unfortunate girl,
when she got near the river; but having yielded to the first
temptation, she was induced to overcome her scruples, and within
less than half an hour from that time she was hurried into the
eternal world. Had she refused when her brother solicited her to
leave home, she might have lived to comfort her father in his old
age; but by complying, she first lost her strength to withstand
temptation, and then her life. What a warning! And is this the only
one which the history of crime has given you? Alas, no! Have not
many, who have ended their days on the scaffold, traced their ruin
to the profanation of the Sabbath? This is the day in which the
spirits of evil are abroad, enticing the young and the thoughtless
to vice and impiety; and if you wish to avoid the misery and
degradation in which others have been involved, devote its sacred
hours to the purpose for which they were appointed. Attend some
place of worship, where the truths of the Bible are preached with
earnestness and power, and attend regularly; and though some of your
associates may ridicule you for your habits of devotion, yet will
you suffer yourself to be conquered by such weapons? The youth who
regularly attends a place of worship on the Sabbath, and receives
the truth under a deep conviction of its excellence and importance,
often enjoys a high mental feast, and becomes imperceptibly
fortified to resist the fascinations of the world; but he who spends
the sacred hours in the society of the thoughtless, amidst scenes
of gaiety and dissipation, becomes an easy prey to the worst of
temptations, often retires to rest reproaching himself for his folly
and impiety, and is gradually led from one crime to another till
iniquity proves his ruin.

       *       *       *       *       *

As I wished to hear a celebrated preacher in the evening, I
asked Mr. Lewellin to accompany me, but he declined, for reasons
which raised him in my estimation as a young man of prudence and
consistency. "I am, Sir," he observed, "decidedly of opinion that
London offers many temptations to professors of religion which
require, on their part, constant vigilance to withstand; and one of
the most specious is, the celebrity of popular preachers."

"But," I replied, "do you think it wrong to go and hear these
ministers?"

"I would be cautious how I censured any one; but I certainly think
that the love of novelty in religion often proves pernicious, not
only to those who are enslaved by it, but to their families. Let me
suppose a case. Here is a religious family who professedly attend
the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Watkins, but the father is in the
habit of hearing every celebrated preacher. Will not this roving
disposition prevent his forming that attachment towards a pastor and
his flock in which the essence of Christian fellowship consists? And
will not the influence of his example have an injurious effect on
his children? If he take them with him, he imperceptibly teaches
them to believe that he is not so much delighted with the truth
as with the agent who conveys it. And what is this but sinking
the importance and value of the truth in the estimation of those
whose hearts are naturally averse to it. If he refuse to take them
with him, and compel them to go, while they are young, to their
regular place of worship, yet, as he does not go with them, they
are left without the controlling influence of his presence, and
are exposed to the temptation of absenting themselves for some
scene of amusement. If he leave his more stated minister to go
after these popular preachers, unless he has a greater measure of
prudence than such roving professors generally possess, he will
institute comparisons in the presence of his children between them
and the settled pastor. And will not this excite prejudice in their
minds against the clergyman whose ministry they are _forced_ to
attend? Will not this prove injurious to them? Will not this tend
to alienate their minds from the love of the truth, and to make
them regard its accidental associations as the main thing; and by
teaching them disrespect for their stated minister, they may, in
time, turn away contemptuously from the message he delivers. And
these are not the only evils which result from the indulgence of
this roving disposition; it is invariably found no less injurious to
the private reputation of a Christian, than to his domestic piety."

"But how so?" I replied. "What injury can it do the private
reputation of a Christian?"

"Why, he will be regarded as an unstable man; and though he may have
many virtues, yet if this imperfection be associated with them it
will materially injure him. For what influence can an unstable man
ever acquire, unless it be the power of doing evil? Who can respect
him? Who can place any dependence on him?"

"But," I asked, "may not a Christian leave the ministry of one
preacher, to attend that of another, without sustaining or producing
any moral injury?"

"Most certainly," said Mr. Lewellin; "we are at perfect liberty to
go where we please, and to hear whom we please; but we should avoid
that fickleness of disposition, which is ever moving from one place
to another. Some admire the last preacher they have heard more than
any preceding one, and have the censer always ready to throw the
incense of flattery around the _next_ who may make his appearance.
Instead of examining themselves, to see what progress they make in
knowledge and in grace, and attending to the religious instruction
of their children and their servants on the Sabbath, they are ever
asking, Who is in town? or, Who is expected? But though I condemn
most decidedly such a volatile spirit amongst professors, yet I
think we _ought_ to attend that ministry which we find the most
profitable. _The truth which we hear is Divine, but the agent
who preaches it is human_; and though the tone and the manner of
proclaiming it will not add to its importance, yet it may tend to
give it a more commanding power of impression; and hence, it is both
our duty and our privilege to attend the ministry of that man, whose
style of preaching is the most calculated to profit us. The poet in
speaking of government, has said,

  'Whate'er is best administered is best.'

The same may be nearly said with regard to sermons. There is not
such a great difference between the thoughts and arrangements of
one preacher and another as some imagine. But who has not been
struck with the difference of the impression and effect? One man
shall speak, and how dry, and sapless, and uninteresting is he! Let
another deliver the very same things, and there is a savour that
gives them freshness--the things seem perfectly new. One preacher,
by his monotonous tones and manner, soon lulls us to sleep; while
another, by his earnestness, his pathos, and his impassioned
appeals--by the aptness of his illustrations, the chasteness of his
style, and the unction of his spirit--not only fixes our attention,
but penetrates the inner man of the heart; we feel ourselves
subdued, enlightened, and powerfully excited by the Word of God.
When a man of this attractive order appears in the pulpit, by the
mysterious action of the sympathetic faculty, his presence is felt
by the people, even before his voice is heard; and in the lines of
Cowper we see a great moral fact, clothed in the vestments of poetic
beauty:--

    'When one that holds communion with the skies
    Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise,
    And once more mingles with us meaner things,
    'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings--
    Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide,
    That tells us whence _his_ treasures are supplied.
    So when a ship well freighted with the stores
    The sun matures on India's spicy shores,
    Has dropp'd her anchor and her canvas furl'd
    In some safe haven of our western world,
    'Twere vain inquiring to what port she _went_--
    The _gale_ informs us, laden with the scent.'"

"But, Sir," I remarked, "if we do not derive improvement and
consolation from the ministry on which we generally attend, we ought
to attribute it to some fault in ourselves. I remember being very
much struck with a remark which I heard a venerable clergyman make
when addressing his congregation--'If, my brethren,' he said, 'you
come to hear _me preach_, instead of hearing _the truth_ which I
deliver, be not surprised if you are permitted to go away without
having felt its purifying and consoling influence. I can do no more
than give utterance to the sublime doctrines and promises of the
gospel; it is the province of my Master to make them effectual to
your salvation; and if you neglect by strong and ardent prayer to
implore his blessing, he will withhold it.'"

"A very just and important remark," replied Mr. Lewellin, "and one
which I hope we shall never forget. We ought at all times to go into
the temple in a devotional spirit, and to remember that as every
good gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, and cometh down
from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither
shadow of turning, we should, in the most humble manner, invoke his
presence; and then we shall feel less disposed to rove and less
occasion to complain of the want of spiritual enjoyment."

We were now interrupted in our conversation, by the servant, who
informed Mr. Lewellin that there were two gentlemen below who
wished to see him. "Desire them to walk up. I am not aware," said
Mr. Lewellin, "who they are; and I regret their call, as I am not
in the habit of receiving company on the Sabbath." They entered the
room, and after offering an apology for this act of intrusion, one
said, "I know, Sir, you will excuse it, as I have made up my mind
to go with you to chapel this evening, along with our friend Mr.
Newton."

I did not immediately recollect this gentleman, though his manners
and voice seemed familiar to me; but on hearing his name, I
instantaneously recognized Mr. Gordon, whom I once met in the
country[11] when enjoying an evening's ramble. "I am happy to see
you, Sir" (addressing him), "as it gives me an opportunity of
reminding you of a promise which you have not yet redeemed."

  [11] See vol. i. page 94.

"Indeed, Sir! You have the advantage of me. Did I ever make you a
promise, which I have not redeemed?"

"Yes, Sir, indeed you have done so."

"Where, and when, Sir, may I ask?"

"Were you never in a thunder-storm?"

"I beg your pardon. I hope you are well. I am happy to see you in
London. I hope you will do me the honour of a call.--Why, no. I have
not been able to inform you of the result of my inquiry; for, to be
very candid, I have been too much engaged to turn my attention to
it; but I have not forgotten it.--What a storm! How did you escape
it? I took shelter in a cow-shed."

"I ran to a cottage, where I was kindly received, and in which I
witnessed a deeply interesting sight. I regretted you were not
with me, as I there saw an evidence in favour of the truth and the
excellence of the gospel, which I think you would have admired."

"Indeed! what visible evidence do you refer to? A miracle?"

"If we define a miracle to be something above the production of
human power, I should not hesitate to call what I saw a moral
miracle." I then gave an account of the decease of the woodman's
child, which he called a very interesting tale; but said he was
not sufficiently enlightened to perceive how such a fact tended
in any way to establish the truth or display the excellence of
Christianity. "We may," he remarked, "have an opportunity to debate
over it before you leave our great city; but, as we propose going
to chapel this evening, perhaps we had better not begin, lest
we should be obliged to break off the thread of our argument at
an unfavourable point. But, though I have not investigated the
important question which we discussed when we accidentally met,
yet I will do it. You see the company which I keep (pointing to
Mr. Lewellin and Mr. Newton) is a proof that I am _religiously
inclined_; and, if a few doubts should still darken my powers of
mental vision, yet the light which emanates from their chaste
reasoning may ultimately disperse them, and we all _may_ become
believers together."

"A consummation I should hail with delight."

"I believe you, Sir; and I honour the motive which prompts such a
devout exclamation."

       *       *       *       *       *

On passing along Cheapside on our way to the chapel which Mr.
Lewellin usually attended, we were astonished at seeing a placard,
announcing that the Rev. Mr. Guion was to preach that evening at
Bow Church, in behalf of the Church Missionary Society; and at my
earnest entreaty, we decided on hearing him. By a statement he made
at the commencement of his discourse, we found his appearance in
the pulpit was in consequence of the sudden illness of a brother
clergyman who stood engaged to preach on the occasion; and this
accounted for our not hearing of this London visit when we were with
him at Fairmount. Having my note-book in my pocket, and my pencils
in good working order, I took down his sermon, and will transcribe
from my manuscript a few passages, which, when delivered, made a
deep impression on the whole congregation. His text was taken from
1 Tim. iii. 16, "And without controversy great is the mystery of
godliness: God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit,
seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the
world, received up into glory." His arguments in confirmation of
the divinity of Jesus Christ were few, but popular and conclusive,
yet not common-place.

"HE WAS SEEN OF ANGELS."--"Our knowledge," said the eloquent
preacher, "of angels is very superficial; yet we know, they are
beings of a superior order--holy, intelligent, powerful, and
benevolent. Jesus Christ was seen of them, at his birth, during
his temptation in the wilderness, when enduring the agonizing
conflict in the garden of Gethsemane, and on the morning of his
resurrection; and they came to witness, and to take a ministering
part in his ascension, when he went to resume the glory which he
had with the Father before the world was. This SEEING him, denotes
the intense interest they felt in his personal honour, and in the
design of his mission to earth. 'Which things,' says the apostle
Peter--that is the sufferings of Christ and the glory that should
follow--'the angels desire to look into.' They pry into and labour
to comprehend the grand theory of human redemption; and watch
with intense solicitude its practical working in the soul of man.
Hence, our Lord says, 'There is joy in the presence of the angels
of God over one sinner that repenteth.' Yes, brethren, these pure
and exalted spirits become comparatively insensible to the glories
of the celestial world, when in the act of seeing a sinner who is
ready to perish, rescued from the fearful peril of his condition,
as we should become comparatively, if not absolutely insensible
to the grandest and most picturesque scenery of nature, if we
stood on some eminence, gazing on the heroine coming out of her
father's cottage, hastening to the frothy beach, springing into the
fishing-boat, braving the fury of the tempest and the wild uproar
of the storm, to rescue the shipwrecked mariners from a vessel
sinking in the deep waters. For it is a law of their nature, no
less than of ours, that gratification shall yield to sympathy, and
that the sight of deliverance from fatal danger, shall have a more
gratifying effect on a sensitive and benevolent heart, than the
most brilliant and exciting scenes which can be presented to the
imagination, or to the senses;--thus demonstrating by a process
as certain as any undeviating law of the material economy, that
every order of being, except infernal spirits, have an instinctive
abhorrence of the disastrous crisis in the progress of suffering;
and that they feel an ecstasy of emotion which no sights of grandeur
or of beauty, and which no sounds of melody can excite, when they
behold an unanticipated deliverance from some horrifying and fatal
termination. There stands the poor criminal on the fatal platform,
and the minister of death is near him, making the necessary
arrangements for his execution; deep sympathy is expressed in every
countenance, many sighs are heaved, and many weep; the silent prayer
is offered up, and all are breathless, expecting the drop to fall
which is to hurl him with convulsive agonies into the other world.
But there is a momentary pause, as an act of homage to a stranger,
who very unexpectedly makes his appearance. This stranger, to whom
all the officials and the doomed man pay marked attention, is
also an official armed with power, not the power of death, but of
life; he is the herald of mercy; and with a loud voice proclaims
his pardon. The multitude, long absorbed in sympathetic grief, now
raise the shout of gladsome triumph, as they gaze on the once doomed
man, as he passes from the death of agony and infamy, to newness
of life; they revel in the excess of ecstatic bliss; and feel more
joyful in spirit over this one criminal saved from the horrors of an
ignominious death, than over a whole community of righteous persons
who were never involved in a sentence of condemnation.

"HE WAS BELIEVED ON IN THE WORLD."--"The testimony of the Bible,
and the records of ecclesiastical history, attest this fact,
Rev. vii. 9, 10; _and he is still believed on in the world_. I
know, brethren, that many persons of refined taste, and exquisite
delicacy of feeling, greatly admire the character of Jesus of
Nazareth, the Son of Joseph and of Mary; and they feel a deep
interest in the perusal of his history. Their imagination expands
in reflecting on that magnificent scene beheld by the shepherds
of Bethlehem, when his birth was announced by the angel of the
Lord. His healing the sick in the temple--his opening the eyes
of blind Bartimeus--and his raising the only son of the widow
as the procession was moving to the grave, has a fine effect on
their sensibilities. The Transfiguration of Tabor sheds a halo of
glory around his Divine form, which attracts and gratifies their
love of the marvellous. They catch the inspiration of a powerful
sympathy on seeing him bathed in tears, as he stands beholding in
the distant vision the desolations coming on the city of Jerusalem.
And when they gather around his cross, they feel intense regret,
intermingled with no slight degree of astonishment, that one so
kind, so humane, and withal such a friend to suffering humanity,
should be so rudely and so cruelly treated, and the falling tear
bespeaks the sorrow of their heart. Now go amongst these refined,
these poetic, these sentimental believers in the Divine origin
of the Christian faith, with the blood of atonement, and what
consternation will you produce! They will soon evince a strange
revulsion of feeling; the term itself is harsh and unintelligible;
it is the jargon of the uncouth and the vulgar; the crucifix
charms their sentimentalism--they abhor the cross. Go and talk to
them about the necessity of believing in the Son of God to save
them from perishing; go and talk to them about joy and peace in
believing, and about the good hope through grace, and you will
soon lose caste, and be sent adrift amongst the wild fanatics of
the age. They will bow down and do homage to the Divine origin of
Christianity--that ideal Christianity, which takes its nature,
shape, and hue from the creations of their fancy; but let the
Christianity of the New Testament come before them in her simple
form--pure and spiritual, breathing her own spirit, speaking her
own language, delivering her own precepts and her own promises,
advancing her own claims, and offering her own celestial gifts, on
her own humiliating and changeless conditions, and they will treat
her, as the Jews did her illustrious Author, with contemptuous
scorn; and would rather have her driven from the face of the earth,
than be enrolled as her devotees, or retained as her advocates. Be
it so. But this you regret, on _their account_, as you know that
they who believe not, will die in their sins and perish for ever,
even though superior intelligence be blended with the fascination
of the most distinguished accomplishments. And you also regret this
terrible calamity on your _own account_, as the pardoned criminal
necessarily feels an abatement of his joy when set free, by knowing
that others are left for execution. But you, Christian brethren,
believe on Him, and have the witness within. You believe on Him, and
love Him; and to you he is precious. You believe on Him, and know
that all is safe for time, safe in death, and safe for eternity."

"Really," said Mr. Gordon, as we were walking away, "I am almost
tempted to believe in the truth of the Christian theory, on two
accounts--it brings us into such close contact with beings of a
superior order, so that in passing into the invisible world, we
shall find that we are known there; and then it gives such security
to the mind against the horrors of death." A sudden storm of heavy
rain prevented any reply to these half-serious, half-ironical
remarks; but on taking leave, as we were getting into our separate
hackney coaches, he added, "I will call to-morrow evening, after
business hours, and chat over those grave questions; and perhaps I
can prevail on Newton to accompany me. Have patience; I may become a
believer in the course of time."




THE SCEPTIC'S VISIT.


Just after Mr. Lewellin had left home, to meet a friend on a matter
of business, Mr. Gordon called, agreeably to his promise on the
previous day, and we spent the evening together.

"I had a lucky escape yesterday," said Mr. Gordon, "but I did not
know of it till I took up the _Times_ this morning."

"From what did you escape, Sir?"

"I had an engagement, for yesterday morning, to go with a pleasure
party on an excursion up the river, but I over-slept myself; and it
was well for me that I did so, for the boat upset, and I regret
to say that a very excellent and accomplished lady, whom I much
admired, was drowned."

"As I was passing Blackfriars' Bridge, in going to Surrey Chapel, I
witnessed an accident such as that to which you refer."

"Indeed! It no doubt was the same, for it was just as they were
setting out from Blackfriars' stairs that the disaster happened; it
must have been an appalling sight!"

"It was, indeed, a harrowing sight; and I trust I shall never
witness the like again. I heard that the lady who was drowned was a
very interesting creature, and the only daughter of a pious father.
The tidings of her loss must have been a sad blow to him."

"Yes, Sir, her father is one of your way of thinking, and I believe
him to be a very worthy man."

"Have you seen him since the fatal accident?"

"No, no! I have no heart to visit such a house of mourning. The
fact is, I shall never be able to see him again, for I planned the
excursion, and induced his son and daughter to join it. This I now
regret; but regrets are useless things."

"Regrets do sometimes produce happy results, and I should think that
yours, just now, must be very keen."

"Indeed, they are intensely keen. It will be a long time before I
get over the impression this fatal accident has made on me."

"You should take it as a warning."

"Well, I don't know how it is, but I never feel quite myself when
taking a Sunday excursion; I feel a little qualm of conscience,
even though I do not hold the Sunday in such reverence as you do. I
thought some time[12] ago that I had got over these qualms, but they
will come back at times in spite of me."

  [12] Vol. i. page 17.

"I am glad to hear you say that your conscience does reprove you
when you profane the Sabbath, and I hope its reproofs will be more
severe than they ever have been. They may be your protection against
some fatal danger."

"Then, Sir, if I do not mistake your meaning, you wish me to be
frightened into the adoption of religious habits. Is this a fair
specimen of your Christian charity?"

"The storm sometimes saves the vessel which might become a wreck in
the calm, as we heard in the sermon last evening; and I assure you I
should be highly gratified to see you agitated by a salutary feeling
of dread and perplexity regarding the state of your soul, as I then
should indulge a hope that you would 'flee from the wrath to come,'
and take refuge in the promises of the gospel."

"Well, I must confess that Mr. Guion is one of the most eloquent
preachers I ever heard. The conclusion of his sermon was truly
sublime; the congregation appeared to quail under its terror--a
feeling which by no means surprised me. There is, indeed, a fearful
terror in the words the _wrath to come_; and there was almost an
irresistible impressiveness in the look and tones of the preacher
when urging his audience to flee from it. I felt, just before he
finished, that I must take refuge in the promises of the gospel; but
the internal commotion soon subsided when I found myself beyond the
reach of his voice, though still I cannot forget it."

"Now, Sir, to be candid; is not the terror you felt, when listening
to the sermon we heard, and the abiding recollection of it,
something like an unconscious homage instinctively paid to the
positive reality of the Christian faith? for we can hardly suppose
that you would invest a mere fiction with such power of impression."

"Why, no; I can scarcely admit that. My idea is, that my present
feelings are merely the lingering influences of early religious
training, with its accompanying associations; and we all know that
such influences may subsist long after we have been led to form
different opinions in our maturer years."

"They live to admonish and to warn, as well as to chastise. There
_may_ be a _wrath to come_. This you must admit, simply because you
do not know there is not; nor can you know, unless God is pleased
to tell you so. _Hence your scepticism needs a Divine revelation
to sustain it_--mere disbelief goes for nothing in settling such a
question."

"Well, I know there is great difficulty, and sometimes an
impossibility, in proving a negative; but one thing is absolutely
certain--I cannot compel myself to believe what you believe, any
more than you can compel yourself to disbelieve what I disbelieve."

"My belief has evidence to sustain it; but your disbelief has none.
And while your disbelief is accompanied by a feeling of uneasiness
and perplexity, my faith exerts a soothing influence, which keeps my
mind in perfect peace."

"Well, I admit that your faith does more for you than my disbelief
does for me; but I cannot believe what you do without impeaching
both the wisdom and the beneficence of the Deity. In other words,
the Deity must sink in my admiration before I can admit the Divine
origin of Christianity."

"But how so?"

"The eloquent preacher whom we heard last evening, when discoursing
on the expression in his text, _he was believed on in the world_,
advanced two distinct propositions, which he endeavoured to sustain
by arguments taken from your Scriptures. The first was, that _there
is salvation for the chief of sinners if they believe in Christ and
trust in him_. You believe and are safe, and are happy because you
expect to be saved. Now, I have no objection to advance against
this; because I know that faith, or trust in Him, does produce these
moral effects on true believers. But my nature revolts against his
second proposition, which was, _that none can be saved who do not
believe in Christ, and trust in him for salvation_."

"In sustaining those propositions the preacher said--and there is
great force in the remark--that we can have no assurance that any
will be saved but by a Divine testimony in proof of it; and that
if it please God to limit the exercise of his saving power to one
prescribed method, our objections against it will be altogether
unavailing."

"Yes, Sir, you quote correctly. Now, in my opinion, it would be a
reflection on the wisdom and beneficence of the Deity to suppose
that he has bound himself under such a forced law of restriction
as compels him to exclude all from a state of future happiness but
the few who do believe and do trust in Christ. Why, have we not
amongst us many men of unsullied honour, of princely generosity,
and of the most amiable dispositions--men who take the lead in
benevolent enterprises and social improvements--poets, philosophers,
historians, and statesmen, who are applauded in public, and admired
and esteemed in private life, but who cannot bow down and do homage
to Jesus Christ, by reposing an absolute dependence on him for a
hope of future blessedness, even though they unwillingly pay an
external homage to the regulations and institutions of Christianity?
Are men of such a high order of mind--of such brilliant virtues--men
who are the very life and soul of society--to be cast off and left
to perish along with the dissipated and the worthless? It cannot be."

"Your objection, then, does not lie so much against the salvation
of the great sinners, who repent and believe in Christ, as it does
against the law of restriction, which excludes all who do not repent
and believe from the hope of salvation."

"I can admit your first proposition, without much difficulty,
even though I do not say that I actually believe it; but I cannot
entertain a belief that the Deity has enacted a law which restricts
the exercise of his beneficence to a select few, some of whom, on
your own admission, are more distinguished for their vices than for
their virtues."

"But is not the law of restriction, even now, a fundamental law
of God's administrative government? For example, are superior
intelligence, genius, or wealth, made common property--to be
possessed by men share and share alike? Do we not see that the few
surpass the many--that some are brilliant stars while others are
mere glowworms; and while some occupy stations of affluence and
grandeur, others are left without a settled home, or any of the
comforts of life?"

"Why, if we really do believe that we are living under the
administrative government of the Deity, then there is no denying
the existence of this restrictive law. Facts are stubborn things;
those you mention are strongly corroborative of your views. But it
does not necessarily follow that this law of restriction applies to
our final destiny, even though it may be applicable to our present
condition of existence."

"But this admission deprives you of the basis on which you rest your
argument, that a law of restriction would be a direct impeachment of
the wisdom and the beneficence of the Deity."

"Well, perhaps it does."

"If, then, facts compel us to admit that this law of restriction is
in full operation _now_, while we are on earth, surely we must admit
the possibility of its continuance in a future state of existence,
without impugning the wisdom or justice of the Deity?"

"I never enter on a discussion on the questions at issue between us,
without feeling compelled to do one of two things; and yet I cannot
bring my mind to do either. I must admit the truth of revelation and
its explanations, and this I cannot do; or I must abandon myself
to _universal_ scepticism, and this I feel unwilling to do. But I
do confess that I feel it more easy to disbelieve than to believe.
However, waiving further reference to this difficulty, allow me to
call your attention to another point, which, if not more difficult
than the one we have just been discussing, assumes, at least in my
estimation, an aspect of great perplexity. Assuming then, for the
sake of the argument, that the Deity does restrict the bestowal
of future happiness to those who do believe and trust in Christ,
could he not have devised some other scheme for this purpose, and
one equally perfect and effective--one, in fact, less open to
objections?"

"I will reply to your question by asking another. Could not God
have made a world different to the one in which we live--one more
congenial to our taste, and less exposed to those privations and
hardships to which we are often subjected, and which we sometimes
so much dread?--A world, for example, in which every convenience
and necessary should be placed within reach; the earth producing
spontaneously the supplies of corn and fruits necessary for our
subsistence--a sufficient supply of dew as a substitute for rain
with its discomforts--the purification of the air effected by gentle
breezes instead of by tempests and hurricanes--no diseases to rack
the body nor cares to harass the mind; a world, in fine, in which
universal happiness should prevail, and sorrow and toil be unknown?"

"Yes, there is no denying that the Deity could have done this."

"But God has not done it; and therefore to object to what he has
done, because we can imagine he could have done something better,
is as useless, as it would be childish. Now, suppose for a moment
some other plan of salvation had been devised, it would have been
to accomplish what is effected by the present scheme--namely, the
final happiness of man. The present scheme, then, answers the
beneficent purpose of its Author--another plan could do no more
than this; but it would be romantic to suppose that it could be
so arranged, in its various parts and modes of application, as to
preclude the possibility of any objections to it, when we well
know it is next to impossible to find any twenty men who all think
alike even on the most obvious facts. Christianity places before us
two great practical facts, in which our present safety and final
happiness are involved: first, there is a way to heaven or to a
state of future blessedness--this should excite our gratitude;
there is only one way--this should make us cautious, lest, through
ignorance, prejudice, or carelessness, we come short of so glorious
a consummation."

"Your explanations, Sir, may be satisfactory to yourself, but they
are not so to me. Indeed, the more I think of it, the more I feel
disinclined to bow down and do homage to the Christian faith. Now,
for example, it is an indisputable historic fact that many ages
elapsed before Christianity was promulgated; and, during this long
period, what countless millions of human beings must, on your
hypothesis, have perished, without ever having had a chance of being
saved! Would the Deity have remained silent so long if he had bound
himself to your law of restriction--to save none but the few who
believe and trust in Christ for salvation?"

"If Christianity, which is the completion of the original scheme
of salvation, was not promulgated till a comparatively late period
in the history of our world, yet the essential substance of it was
known from the earliest period of time. The apostle says, that
Abel, the first man who tasted the bitterness of death, offered his
prefigurative sacrifice in faith, which is a proof that he knew
the way of salvation, to be perfected by the death of the promised
Saviour; and we may fairly presume that what he knew, would be
made known to his descendants, from one generation to another. And
the same apostle says, when speaking of his Jewish ancestors--'For
unto us was the gospel preached as well as unto them; but the word
preached did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them
that heard it' (Heb. iv. 2). And Jesus Christ himself says--'Your
father Abraham rejoiced to see my day; and he saw it, and was glad'
(John viii. 56). From the time of Abraham to the actual coming of
Christ, the clearest and fullest revelations of this scheme of
salvation were limited to Abraham's descendants; but we can collect
from the records of ancient history, scanty as its materials are,
sufficient evidence to prove, that amongst the people of other
nations it descended by traditional report and testimony, from one
generation to another, so as to leave them without excuse, if they
perished in their disbelief, or from their own neglect of giving it
due attention. At length they became so corrupt and debased that
they were left, as a judicial visitation from God, to suffer the
consequences of their depravity and impenitence (Rom. i. 21-25)."

"But what immense numbers of human beings must, on your hypothesis,
have perished during this long reign of ignorance and moral
corruption; and I do not see that the state of things is much
improved at the present time. Now, let us look at the case just as
it is. Christianity has been in existence and in active operation,
so you say, for nearly two thousand years; and yet how small is the
space on the surface of our globe which is illumined by what you
call her celestial light, in comparison with the vast regions which
are enveloped in moral darkness!"

"I admit it," I replied.

"But how will you reconcile such a tremendous state of things, with
the acknowledged wisdom and beneficence of the Deity?"

"You are aware, Sir, that we are often compelled to admit as
indisputable facts, what we cannot reconcile with the wisdom and
benevolence of God--as the slave-trade, for example, slavery as it
now exists in America, and the perpetration of murders, and other
social crimes."

"Very true, Sir; these are confounding facts. They often stagger me."

"Permit me to say, that the arguments you adduce to disprove, if
possible, the truth of the Christian faith, and its practical
utility, are precisely those I would employ in proof of its Divine
origin and beneficial tendency. Going back to an early period of
time, let us consider some of the indisputable facts of history. The
tribes of Israel, we know, had been held for centuries as slaves
in the land of Egypt; and after their emancipation they went to
reside in Palestine. In most of those qualities which command the
respect and admiration of mankind, the Jewish nation was remarkably
deficient. With the exception of their sacred writings, their
literature appears to have been meagre in the extreme; no eminent
philosophers, historians, or orators adorn their annals, and the
fine arts seem scarcely to have had any existence among them.
Compared with the Greeks and Romans, and other nations of antiquity,
they were barbarians; and were spoken of in the language of scorn
and contempt by their more accomplished and renowned contemporaries.
In ONE department of knowledge, however, the despised Jewish people
far surpassed the haughty statesmen and polished sages of Greece
and Rome. They knew the only true God, and spoke of him in a style
corresponding with his greatness, his condescension, and his
paternal love. While the inhabitants of all other countries were
abandoned to the grossest and most abject superstition and idolatry,
the Hebrews alone adored one God, and alone appear to have possessed
any suitable ideas of the dignity and holiness of the Supreme
Being; and while the worship of the pagan divinities was licentious
and cruel, that of the God of the Jews was distinguished by its
mildness and purity. Here is a contrast which must be traced to some
adequate cause."

"The Jews most certainly, in this department of knowledge, claim a
just superiority over other ancient nations; but this may have been
owing to their isolation and their training."

"That I grant; but their isolation was a Divine arrangement, and
their training a Divine dispensation. They were separated from all
other people by the express command of the Lord their God; and their
teachers who trained them in this department of knowledge--the
knowledge of the only true God, and of the way of salvation,
proclaimed that God had made himself known to them by special
revelation."

"Yes, they said so, and I will admit that they believed it was so;
but as they were not infallible, they may have been mistaken."

"Why, Sir, any person of common sense can easily distinguish
between a discovery, and a communication as to matters of fact.
However, to account for their superior knowledge on these sublime
and recondite subjects, without admitting the correctness of their
own testimony,'that God spake to _their fathers_,' is absolutely
impossible, unless we believe--what would be an outrage on common
sense to imagine--that there is more acuteness in mental dulness
than in superior intelligence; and that an untutored people,
while devoting themselves chiefly to agriculture and the rearing
of cattle, could eclipse, by the grandeur and sublimity of their
discoveries, a people who has long enjoyed the highest degree of
intellectual culture."

"But, Sir, your Scriptures prove that the Jews had amongst them
men of genius and of great mental power. Isaiah, for example, in
sublimity and lofty grandeur of conception and description, has
no superior in any age or country; and the pastoral odes of David
equal, if they do not surpass, anything we meet with in Pope or
Addison. As a legislator, Moses stands at the head of his order,
and, if my memory serves me, the great critic Longinus says he
was no ordinary man; and, therefore, it is not a matter of such
wonderment that they made discoveries of the Deity which no other
philosophers ever made."

"But you forget that what you call their discoveries were
inspirations, which came upon them from the Source of all knowledge;
and to these inspirations they uniformly attribute their knowledge
of the only true God, and that scheme of salvation which he had
devised on behalf of man. And this belief was entertained by all
the tribes of Israel, not simply because their teachers said so,
but because, they confirmed the truthfulness of their testimony by
signs, and wonders, and divers miracles."

"And yet after all their novel and sublime discoveries in regard
to these all-important subjects, and after all the miraculous
attestations which you say were supplied in confirmation of their
truthfulness, we find that they apostatized from the worship of
their Deity, and relapsed again and again into idolatrous worship
and practices, and became corrupt and debased like the people of
other nations."

"That is very true, Sir; and the consequences resulting from their
apostasy supplies a very cogent argument in favour of my hypothesis.
While they adhered to the worship of the true God, and observed the
statutes and ordinances which he gave them, they were a united,
virtuous, and prosperous people; and, though few in number, they
were great in power. No invading force could subdue them, nor
could any adjoining country into which they carried their arms
withstand the shock of their assaults. But when they renounced their
allegiance to Him, and relapsed into idolatry, practising at the
same time the cruel and obscene rites of heathenism, they became
debased and corrupt like other pagan nations; and then, when the
protecting arm of the Lord their God was withdrawn, they fell an
easy prey to their enemies, who reduced them to a state of slavery
more galling to their national pride than that of Egypt. And,
in further confirmation of my argument, just let us look at the
present moral state of those countries which have not yet received
and submitted to the authority of Christianity. There we find
most triumphant evidence in favour of the moral superiority of the
Christian system over every other at present existing in the world,
in regard to promoting the dignity and happiness of mankind. Without
descending to the gross idolatries of Fetichism, and other abject
forms of superstition, what is the social condition of nations where
Mahometanism or Buddhism is professed? and what, on the other hand,
is that of those countries, where Christianity has been established?"

"To you, Sir, who believe that the Deity restricts the bestowal of
a state of future blessedness to that comparatively small number
who believe in Jesus Christ, the condition of those nations where
Christianity is not established must appear truly appalling; but to
myself it presents no such painful aspect, because, as the Deity
has permitted this state of things to descend from one generation
to another, for such a series of ages, I believe he looks with an
_equal eye_ of compassion and beneficence on all his offspring;
and that, _if there be a future state of blessedness in reserve_,
he will discard your law of restriction, and confer everlasting
happiness on all, without respect to their faith, or their religious
rites and customs. Hence I see no absolute necessity why you should
embark in that crusade of missionary enterprise and labour, which we
heard recommended and enforced with so much eloquence last evening;
for we are not sure that if such a transfer of homage, and change
in the mode of worship, could be effected, it would augment the
happiness of the people who are the subjects of it, or improve their
social habits and dispositions."

"I am rather surprised to hear you make these remarks; however,
without noticing all of them, I think I can convince you that on
some points you are labouring under a species of delusion, and
that I shall endeavour to point out. I proceed, then, at once, to
real or very probable matters of fact. A vessel, richly laden and
scantily manned, may sail up the Thames or the Clyde in perfect
safety, even if there are no weapons of defence on board; but if she
were to venture near the coast of some parts of the Indian seas,
her passengers and crew would run the risk of a contest for their
lives and liberty with the savages on shore. If a vessel should be
wrecked on the shores of the once savage, but now Christian islands
of Tahiti or Raratonga, its crew and passengers would be sure of
a kind reception from the natives; while, if a similar disaster
should happen on the shores of the Feejees or of Sumatra, they
would run the risk of being seized and devoured; or, if spared this
fate, would be compelled to live in degradation and misery. Here
are striking contrasts, amongst human beings who are endowed with
the same powers of intelligence and sympathy as ourselves; but to
what singular cause are these to be referred, unless it be to the
influence of the Christian faith, which, you doubt, will work no
beneficial change in the character and condition of man?"

"You strike home now, and I feel I must surrender. But still, while
the diffusion of Christianity may tend to tame the wild savage, and
make him more like a human being, I do not see any necessity for
your missionary labours amongst the Chinese or the Hindoos, who are
highly civilized, and, upon the whole, intelligent. Why should any
efforts be made to dispossess them of their religion, with its rites
and ceremonies, which they inherit from their forefathers?"

"I think that no compulsory efforts should be made to achieve this
end; but I presume you would not think it wrong that our government
should introduce the humane laws of Britain into all her foreign
dependencies?"

"Why, no; such a measure, I think, would be very advisable."

"I thank you for this admission in favour of the necessity of
Christian missions, especially to India, where cruelties are still
practised in broad day, such as we should be apt to regard as
monstrous inventions, fitted only to gratify a morbid appetite for
the horrible, were they not attested by faithful eye-witnesses.
What think you of this specimen? At the annual festival in honour
of Muha Div (the great god), many persons are suspended in the air
by large hooks, thrust through the integuments of their backs,[13]
and swung round for a quarter of an hour, in honour of this deity;
and often over a slow fire. Others have their sides pierced, and
cords are introduced between the skin and ribs, and drawn backwards
and forwards, while these victims of superstition dance through
the st

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