Chapter XXIII: Part 23

"How awful! Their doom is the reverse of what they expected. This passage is conclusive; delusion is possible, and it sometimes proves fatal. The question is, How can it be detected before the discovery comes too late for correction? I feel confused."

"Did you often pray to be kept from self-delusion, during the time you were engaged in your religious duties?"

"I always used my prayers twice a-day, morning and evening; and on some special days I used them more frequently. When travelling, or when we had visitors at our house, I sometimes neglected them, but then I always did double duty the next day, or as soon after as possible. But I don't recollect that I have any prayer which refers especially to self-delusion. Such an idea I never entertained. The idea is quite new to me."

"Then you merely read your prayers; you did not pray?"

"Why, Sir, is not that praying? I am quite sure that I was sincere when I was doing it, and I always felt a pleasure when I had done it."

"The apostle Paul, even when he was an enemy to Christ, and when persecuting the disciples of Christ, even to bonds, imprisonment, and death, was very devout and zealous in all his religious duties; as touching the righteousness of the law, that is, the duties of the ceremonial law, he says he was blameless. He said his prayers, or he read them; but it was not till after his conversion that Jesus Christ said of him, '_Behold he prayeth_' (Acts ix. 11)."

"The subject of our conversation is somewhat alarming. It agitates me. It will increase the depression of my spirits. I shall feel quite unhappy. I see nothing before me now but real danger, I may say awful danger. What can I do now?"

"The prophet says, 'Then shall we know, if we follow on to know the Lord' (Hosea vi. 3). In nature there is progression, and so in grace. The light shines brighter and brighter from the faint dawn to the clear meridian. This is an emblem. You will find Scripture truth come out of its obscurity as you advance in your inquiries and researches; and therefore, my dear Madam, you should not yield to despondency, but rather give diligence to make your calling and election sure, and if you do this, you will ultimately rejoice in hope."

Several weeks elapsed before I visited her again. I had preached one Sabbath evening from Luke xv. 2, proving that Jesus Christ takes supreme delight in saving the chief of sinners. I noticed, when delivering the subjoined passage, the fixedness of her look, and the varying aspect of her countenance, indicating both astonishment and delight. "If he saved our men of refined taste and literary eminence--our great historians and poets--the noble aristocracy of our country--our active spirits who go about doing good--persons of artistic and professional skill--the heroes and heroines of valour and adventure--many would be more gratified than surprised: this, they would say, is as it ought to be; due respect is paid to mind, to moral worth, to rank--the dignity of order is preserved. Well, brethren, he will save any of the various orders to whom I have referred; but then they must come out of the fascinations and embellishments of their social position, and get into the position of sinners, as he did not come to call the intelligent, the renowned, and the righteous, but he came to _call sinners to repentance_; he _seeks_ and _saves_ those and those only who feel that they are lost, and in danger of perishing for ever. _He receiveth sinners_--the chief of sinners--sinners of vulgar habits and atrocious crimes--sinners who are shunned by the refined and virtuous, and scowled upon by our sentimental moralists and men of taste; and he saves them--they constitute a large portion of the population of the celestial world. He receiveth sinners; but on what terms and conditions? Believe and be saved; believe now, and be saved. You see, my brethren, that sinners are not sent to mend their ways, before Jesus Christ will save them; they are not sent to embellish their character with a few constitutional virtues, before he will save them; they are not sent to learn a creed, or become proficients in the art of any ceremonial observances, before he will save them; the soul-stirring proclamation is, 'Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none else' (Isa. xlv. 22)."

"Your discourse, Sir, on Sunday evening, pleased me, but it has greatly perplexed me. It is an inversion of my order of thinking. I always thought that the intelligent and the virtuous were sure to go to heaven, but I had my doubts about others."

"They _may be saved_; though their intelligence and attainments place their salvation in great jeopardy. The virtues of some, like the vices of others, militate against them, and often decide the fatal issue."

"You greatly alarm and perplex me. As much danger in superior intelligence, and superior virtue, as in vulgar ignorance and offensive vice!"

"Yes, Madam, and sometimes there is more. The Pharisees of the New Testament were intelligent persons, and they were also virtuous and very religious; and yet with what fearful solemnity, and in what terrific forms of expression, did Jesus Christ denounce and condemn them--'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?' (Matt. xxiii. 27, 33)."

"My dear Sir, you stagger and confound me with alarm."

"You overlook, my dear Madam, one great fact, which is a solution of the perplexity which confounds you."

"And what is that fact?"

"_All_ have sinned against God; and as a palpable proof of it, the sentence of death has been passed against all. This is a judicial sentence, which could not be inflicted unless there was delinquency, and consequent guilt. As the apostle says, 'Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned' (Rom. v. 12)."

"Then, Sir, am I to understand that all persons--the intelligent and the virtuous, and the ignorant and the vicious--are in the same moral condition--all on the same level?"

"You see that they are all doomed to death; because they have all sinned. The virtue of the most virtuous is no protection against death."

"True, Sir, but may it not prove a safe passport to heaven?"

"In that conception lurks the fatal danger of constitutional virtue, with its fascinating accompaniments of intelligence and mental attainments."

"I don't quite apprehend your meaning."

"Don't you perceive, my dear Madam, that by entertaining the conception that virtue will prove a safe passport to heaven, you substitute virtue in the place of Jesus Christ, the Friend of sinners; virtue is transformed from a mental quality into a saviour, and man saves himself? Now, we know from the infallible testimony of the Bible, that none are received from earth into heaven but _redeemed_ SINNERS; and all when actually saved, ascribe their salvation to the death and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. 'Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen' (Rev. i. 5, 6)."

"I am now convinced that I have much to renounce, and much to learn, before I can become a true Christian. I was taught to believe I was regenerated at the font of baptism. This delusion was practised on me when I was confirmed by the bishop. Why, Sir, I have been enveloped in delusion all my life. This is a most painful discovery. It takes me by surprise."

"Had you died under this delusion, you would have been at this moment a lost soul, moving about the dark and terrific world of spirits in absolute despair. You ought, my dear friend, to feel truly grateful to the God of all grace and consolation, that you have made the painful discovery before it is too late for rescue and effective relief."

"But, Sir, what must I do? I am compelled to leave the false refuge in which I have been dreaming of safety; but where shall I find the true one?"

"Jesus Christ receiveth sinners, when they _feel_ that they are sinners, and _then_ he will save them."

"I now feel that I need his help; but I do not know how to obtain it. My mind, Sir, is distracted--most painfully distracted. I don't know what to do. I see nothing clearly. I feel confused--painfully perplexed."

"You can pray, _Lord save me, or I perish_."

"I can offer that prayer, and offer it from the depth of my heart; but will Jesus Christ hear it, and will he answer it?"

"He will."

"Then I will try."

A few days after this interview I received a note from her, requesting me to make an early call; and when I went, she informed me that she had such a dread of delusion, she had made up her mind to search the Scriptures, and pursue the investigation till she thoroughly understood--quoting an expression she heard me use when in the pulpit--the unity, and harmony, and glory of the wonderful economy of redemption. To assist her in her studies, in addition to recommending Dr. Doddridge's _Family Expositor_, I forwarded to her a copy of Dr. Bates' _Harmony of the Divine Attributes_, giving it as my decided opinion, that she would acquire a larger amount of profound and accurate theological knowledge from a careful study of it, than from any other book in the English language.

During the time she was pursuing her spiritual researches, I deemed it expedient to avoid calling on her; but I had the gratification of seeing her both punctual and regular in her attendance at public worship. There was also a perceptible change in the aspect of her countenance; the pensive, and somewhat gloomy impression was entirely obliterated; her eye had resumed its native radiance; she appeared at ease. After the lapse of several weeks, I renewed my visit, which yielded me an adequate recompense for all my preceding solicitudes.

"I used, Sir, to read my Prayer Book more than my Bible, which made me idolize the church; but then I lightly esteemed Jesus Christ, the Rock of my salvation. I used to be very fond of the Oxford tracts, but they mystify the truth. They unduly exalt the sacraments, and cast a dimming shadow around the cross. They perpetuated the delusions of my early training, and were preparing me, not for heaven and happiness, but for Popery and its lying wonders. But, Sir, in what a state of delusion our clergy are living, and they don't know it; they are deceiving others, and don't know it!"

"That is true, Madam--painfully true. A spirit of delusion has come forth from the Evil One, and it has alighted on the great majority both of the clergy and laity of the Church of England; and, like insane persons, they are pleased and satisfied with the delusions under which they are living (Mat. xxiii. 13-28)."

"They should be warned of their danger; and warned, Sir, before it is too late."

"They scorn to heed warning when it is given. They hold fast deceit, as though it were the pearl of great price."

"What a wonderful and merciful escape I have had! Yes, Dr. Bates' _Harmony_ is a safe antidote to mental delusions. I can now understand my Bible. I can now understand your preaching. I can now understand what is included in a favourite expression of yours, which for a long time so greatly perplexed me, 'The grand economy of human redemption.'"

"And I hope, my dear Madam, you have felt the renovating power of Divine truth and grace in your heart; that you have passed from a state of spiritual death to newness of life, and are become a new creature in Christ Jesus; that old things are passed away, and behold all things are become new."

"I certainly feel conscious of some internal spiritual change, when I compare the present state of my mind with its state some time since; though I sometimes doubt whether it is the spiritual regeneration of the soul of which I read so much in my Bible."

"But why do you doubt it? The change has not been produced by yourself, but by the grace of God; why, then, do you doubt either its reality or the divinity of its origin?"

"I do not doubt its reality, but I strongly suspect the divinity of its origin; because, after the most minute investigation of what has passed and still passes in my mind, I can discover nothing there but my own thoughts, emotions, desires, and purposes. These I find succeed each other in a natural, _unforced_ order, under the guidance and control of my own will; which is as free to choose or reject them, as though no superior being were able to control it."

"Accurately to define the exact point where the human will and a Divine agency meet in the moral renovation of the soul, or to say when this mysterious junction takes place, requires a knowledge of the laws of the spiritual world which we can never hope to attain in this imperfect state. Unquestionably, your thoughts and emotions, your desires and purposes, appear to rise spontaneously in your mind, and actually succeed each other in a perfectly logical order; but who first sprang this new mine of thought and feeling? and by what power are these desires and purposes cherished and nurtured in your heart? If you suppose that all originated in the uninfluenced action of your own understanding and will, you are reduced to the necessity of denying the scriptural statement of the entire depravity of the human heart."

"That I cannot do; I admit that we are morally dead in relation to God, though we may cherish many of the social virtues in relation to each other; and I admit also _that no one knoweth the things of God, but by the Spirit of God_."

"Then you are compelled to admit _his immediate agency_ in imparting a spiritual discernment; and an inclination also to receive those truths as the source of your most sacred and elevated joy, which appear to the natural man either as unnecessary or absurd. His Spirit acts, but we see only its effects. All is under his guidance and control, yet all appears to be the result of our own thoughts and purposes. He leads us in the way in which he would have us go, but his hand is unseen. He takes of the things of Christ and shows them to us, while we suppose that we discover them ourselves. He draws us to Jesus Christ, and enables us to depend on him for salvation; but we seem to direct our own steps, and put forth the unaided strength of our own mind. Thus the Holy Spirit effects our renovation, and makes us willing, in the day of his power, to come to Jesus Christ; while he sees fit to conceal his agency, and condescends, when we are examining ourselves to see whether we are in the faith, to bear witness with our spirits that we are the children of God."

"I thank you, Sir, for this very satisfactory explanation of a mental process, of which I have been conscious, while unconscious of the concurring power of the Divine Spirit, by whom it has been conducted. It reminds me of what the apostle Paul says in one of his epistles, which I have often meditated on, but could not clearly till now apprehend his meaning--'For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure' (Philip. ii. 13). I now perceive that the volitions and doings are ours, but it is God who works them within us; we have the blessing, and he claims the consequent gratitude and love."

"If, my dear friend, we differ from others, as I trust we do, to ascribe its origination to ourselves would be to arrogate the glory which belongs exclusively to God; and though we may sometimes suspect that the difference is not of Divine origin because we are not already perfect, yet I think we cannot fairly doubt its reality when we are brought into direct intercourse with the unenlightened and unrenewed, even though they may profess the same external forms of the Christian faith with ourselves."

"I can subscribe to the correctness of this remark; for when retiring from such society, I have often felt very grateful to the Lord for giving me views of truth, and enkindling in my soul emotions and desires, of which they appear absolutely destitute."

"The Psalmist says, 'All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord; and thy saints shall bless thee' (Ps. cxlv. 10). The new creation of the soul is the most wonderful specimen of the Divine workmanship; and every one in whom it is effected, will perpetually and for ever advert to it with mingled emotions of astonishment and gratitude."

No great while after Mrs. Lobeck had acquired this more perfect knowledge of the theory of Divine truth, and became rooted and grounded in its belief, she was received, with her husband, into fellowship with the church. They both distinguished themselves by their liberality, and by their activity in the various departments of labour connected with my congregation; and Mr. Lobeck was eventually elected an elder, by the unanimous choice of his Christian brethren. There was one praiseworthy habit they formed even before their membership; and from which no circumstances, except illness or absence from home, could induce them to deviate; and that was, neither to receive company, or pay any fraternal visits on the evenings when public worship was conducted at the chapel. They thus pursued their onward course with undeviating consistency; walking worthy of their sacred vocation; an example to their Christian brethren, in faith, in charity, and in zeal; blending in their character so many lovely excellencies, as to justify a beautiful remark made by an intelligent observer, that they had sustained as little injury from the fall, as any couple he had ever known.

Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, is an aphorism which was first uttered by an inspired writer, and now it has passed into current circulation amongst the faithful in Christ Jesus; and as all chastisements, whether light and momentary, or heavy and prolonged, are designed to yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness, they should be submitted to with meek submissiveness of spirit, and unwavering faith in their necessity and utility. In general the Lord is pleased to give his people some intimations of their coming trials, that they may look to him for strength and patience to endure them; but sometimes he departs from this general rule, and, as in the case of Job, the storm rises out of the dead calm--the affliction is as sudden, as it is unexpected. The Lobecks had three children, two sons and a daughter, the living personifications of vigorous health and sprightliness; but the youngest child, a beautiful little boy about seven years of age, sickened and died within the space of a few hours. I hastened to the house of mourning to offer the expressions of my sympathy; and there I saw the intensity of parental sorrow, held in subjection to the triumph of heroic faith. There was a dignified placidity in Mr. Lobeck's countenance, but he could not repress the falling tear. "Our dear child is taken from us," he said in a mild but firm tone; "yet we must not forget that the Lord has done it, who has reasons for what he does; he does all things well. He never errs."

"This, Sir," said the mother, "_is a great trial_. I feel it at the very core of my heart. So sudden! We had no warning of its coming. Our medical friend did not apprehend any danger. But how thankful ought I to be to our heavenly Father, who has permitted me to see the bow in the overhanging cloud; the dear little sufferer said, just before he died, '_Ma, I am going to Jesus_.' Sweet words!"

"The bitter, my dear friend, often yields sweetness. He was commissioned to announce to you his elevation, even before he had seen the King in his beauty, and received his appointment."

"The sound of his sweet voice still lingers on my ear, but the sweeter words of his lips have sunk deep into my heart; and they soothe and comfort me. He is happy, because a glorified spirit; and though I cannot help mourning over my loss, yet I dare not repine. Yes, he is with Jesus, and must be safe and happy."

"You may mourn your loss. This is natural. Jesus wept at the grave of his friend, even though he knew that he was coming back to life. Your dear little one will long live in your memory. You will often recall his form, his looks, his sweet smiles and embraces, his inquiries and his sayings. These reminiscences will keep in continuous flow the waters of maternal grief. But turn from his grave, to heaven his present home. Think of his premature elevation, his dignity, and his blessedness--the sorrows and the conflicts he has escaped. Think of the honour which God has conferred on you; you are now the mother of a glorified spirit."

"I feel it to be an honour, and a great honour. But I shall never forget my sweet little Harry. He was the miniature of his father. I watched his rapid growth, and the premature development of his mind with intense pleasure. His looks, and speech, and manners were so engaging. I anticipated his coming manhood. Alas! he is taken from me."

"Taken from the evil to come; and the Lord has done it."

"I bow to his holy and sovereign will. He saw there was a necessity for this severe stroke, or he would not have permitted it to fall upon us. Perhaps we were too fond of our children, and getting too fond of the world; and therefore he has sent this trial to wean our affections from earth; to purify them; to concentrate them supremely on himself."

"Many have been heard to say, It hath been good for me that I have been afflicted. Hence afflictions, even the most severe, are not positive evils; they are blessings in disguise to the people of God. They unsettle the affections which were cleaving too closely to earth; they elicit the hidden meaning of the precious promises of the Bible, which distil the dew drops of Divine love on the heart; and by giving palpable demonstrations of the vanity of all human possessions, they imperceptibly invest the glory to be revealed with a freshness of reality which is felt to be elevating and sublime."

At a subsequent interview, when adverting to this severe domestic bereavement, she thus expressed herself:--"I can now say, what I could not say before this trial came upon us--I know in whom I believe. My fears and misgivings have all left me. I am happy, because I know I am safe now; and expect to be more happy, when heart and flesh faint and fail, because then the Lord will be my portion for ever."

"Your dependence for safety and happiness, here and hereafter, is not _now_ placed on your religious ceremonies, or on your virtuous attainments."

"O no! It _was_, when I was living under the beguiling delusions of the Tractarian heresy; but _now_ I can say with the apostle, 'Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith' (Philip. iii. 8, 9)."

"I congratulate you, my dear friend, in having lived to see this day--a day of sorrow, but a day of greater joy and rejoicing. Your husband has exchanged his long cherished scepticism for the faith of Christ, and is now safe for eternity. Your dear little one is with Jesus, in heaven, waiting your entrance. And you are now delivered from all your perplexities and depressive fears, and can anticipate the glory to be revealed in you."

"These, Sir, are facts, great facts, astounding facts. No delusions, grand realities. What an escape has my dear husband had from the subtle devices of scepticism, and what an escape have I had from the equally fatal devices of Tractarian superstition; and I cannot forget the subordinate part you have taken, in effecting these deliverances; nor can I feel too grateful. I thank you for your wise counsels, for your faithful warnings, for your sympathy and your friendship; but my purest and most ardent gratitude is due, and is often presented to HIM, who has produced these wonderful changes in our character and condition."

"And they are changes, my dear friend, which we may look upon as preludes and pledges of still more glorious changes, when the end cometh. 'Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is' (1 John iii. 2)."

CHRISTMAS.

The Christmas season carries the mind back to the origin of our faith, and all the wondrous events connected with it. It has been made the time for gathering together family connections, and drawing closer those bands of kindred hearts, which the cares, and sorrows, and pleasures of the world are continually operating to cast loose; of calling back the members of a family who have launched forth into life, and wandered far asunder, once more to assemble around the parental hearth, that rallying place of the affections, there to grow young again among the endearing remembrances of childhood. And though this season is commonly devoted by the gay and the thoughtless to scenes of frivolous mirth, thus diverting the attention from the contemplation of the glorious event which the observance of Christmas Day is designed to commemorate, yet that circumstance should not deter the pious Christian from availing himself of the opportunity which national custom affords of mingling in the friendly circle, and partaking of its innocent gratifications. The spirit of our religion neither requires us to shut ourselves up in a monastery, nor practise the austerities of a recluse; but while it purifies the affections, and throws a salutary restraint upon the appetites and passions, it permits us to enjoy the comforts and the felicity of social intercourse. It teaches moderation, but does not prohibit indulgence; it condemns levity, but sanctions cheerfulness; and, like its illustrious Author, it does not hesitate to attend the festive gathering, when hallowed by the influences of pious friendship and domestic love.

Fully two years had now elapsed since my return from Fairmount, and during the interval I had been engaged in close and unremitting attention to the care of my flock, and I believe I may say, without undue exultation, that my labours had been blessed. I frequently corresponded with my country friends, and when, in the close of 18--, Mr. Stevens sent me a pressing invitation to spend the Christmas with him, I resolved, after securing a suitable substitute in my absence, to proceed to Watville, along with Mr. Llewellin, who was to accompany me on my visit. We left London by the stage coach on a fine frosty morning, the 23d of December, and as evening was closing in we reached Salisbury, where we were to pass the night, Mr. Llewellin having some business to transact there. Our journey was exceedingly pleasant. After emerging from the smoke and bustle of London, we passed through a beautiful country, attractive even in winter, the aspect of which was all the more delightful to me from my long previous confinement to a city. We travelled the greater part of the way with two young gentlemen, who were going home to spend the vacation. They were brothers, of nearly equal age--the one destined for the profession of the law, the other for the church. The elder boy was sprightly, the younger somewhat grave; both were very agreeable and intelligent. With the happy buoyancy of youth ere its day-dreams are dispelled by the sad experience of maturer years, the present was to them a joyous reality, only to be exceeded by the realization of the bright visions of the future. Their conversation was the complete overflow of youthful spirits, rejoicing in the release from school discipline, and the prospect of again meeting their friends, and returning for a time to all their country recreations. They also alluded to their prospects in life--of their success, in which no desponding thought had as yet ever crossed their minds; but, though thus sanguine in their anticipations, they possessed too much good sense to suppose that distinction could be attained without industry, or honour acquired without desert.

"I suppose, young gentlemen," said Mr. Llewellin, "you intend to devote your holidays to amusement."

"Not entirely," said the young lawyer; "I intend to read history at least two hours every morning;" "and I intend," said the young divine, "to con over the classics as long, and then, Sir, to amuse myself."

"I am happy to hear," added Mr. Llewellin, "that you have come to such a decision; while your recreations unbend your minds from the severity of close application, the adoption of such a habit will keep them in trim for future service."

"Very true," replied the lawyer; "if we wish to rise to eminence, we must redeem time, rather than suffer it to be wasted in indolence and inactivity."

The young clergyman, who was looking out of the window, suddenly exclaimed, "Here's old William standing at the gate with our horses, and yonder is papa coming on Smiler across the close."

The coach stopped, and out stepped our interesting companions, who, after bidding us adieu, left us to pursue our journey alone. We soon lost sight of them, but, in the space of a few minutes, a turn in the road revealed them again to our view; their father, alighting from his horse, joyfully embraced his children, after which they all mounted their steeds, and we watched them galloping off towards a beautiful country-seat, which we had been admiring before our young friends left us, but then had no idea that it was their destination.

The stage now drove on, and about five o'clock we were rattling through the streets of Salisbury, where, after refreshing ourselves at our inn, Mr. Llewellin sallied forth to transact the business matter which had led us to take this route, and I ensconced myself comfortably by the side of a blazing fire, where I commenced reading Cheever's _Wanderings of a Pilgrim_, then just published. The charms of the narrative entranced me, and I gradually lost myself, crossing the pass of the Grand St. Bernard to the charming Val d'Aoste, or sailing on the romantic Lake of Luzern. Mr. Llewellin was detained for several hours; I accordingly had time to traverse a considerable part of Switzerland in company with my pilgrim. He at length appeared, and we shortly afterwards retired to rest. On getting up in the morning I proposed a walk to the cathedral, as we had some time to spare before the coach started. On reaching it (the hour for morning service not having yet arrived) we found the attendants busy decking the cathedral with evergreens for the ensuing day. Though both Mr. Llewellin and myself were decided Dissenters, we could nevertheless well appreciate the majesty of the noble structure in which we were now standing, and feel even something of a religious awe as we gazed down the long aisles, and listened to the echo of our footsteps as they reverberated through the building.

"After all," observed Mr. Llewellin, "the simplest form of worship appears to me the most to be commended, where the mind runs no danger of mistaking the mere excitement of the imagination for a burst of devotional feeling."

"Certainly," I returned; "and I quite agree with Cheever's remark in his _Wanderings_, which I was reading last night, that it is generally the period of greatest spiritual declension where we find ecclesiastical architecture most magnificent. But hark!"

The organist had, unseen by us, ascended to the loft to practise; and at this moment pealed forth a majestic voluntary, which sublimely rolled away to the extremity of the building, and then returned in a softer strain through the re-echoing aisles. Another and another succeeded. We both stood for some moments rooted to the spot, surrendering ourselves to the overpowering influence of the sacred strain. The music ceased for a few moments, and, recovering myself, I exclaimed, "Let us haste from this bewitching influence, which I am afraid savours but too much of mere earthly excitement." "I think so too," rejoined Mr. Llewellin; "and, nevertheless, I can well understand the lines of the poet Gray:--

'Where through the long drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.'"

As our time was then nearly expired, we returned to our inn, and shortly afterwards started again in the coach; and after a journey of some hours, reached Watville, where we found Mr. Stevens' carriage waiting to convey us to Fairmount. It is needless to say how warmly we were welcomed by our friends, whom we had the pleasure of finding in excellent health. Soon after the first greetings were over, and we had arranged our toilet and made ourselves comfortable, Mrs. Stevens, with a peculiar smile on her countenance, which _told tales_, said to Mr. Llewellin, "Mr. and _Miss_ Roscoe are engaged to spend the evening with us; no doubt this will be a gratification to you." This communication at once raised his spirits, which had been gradually sinking as we approached the end of our journey. I was no longer at a loss to account for the sighs which had occasionally made their escape from his breast during the short intervals of silence that took place in the course of conversation. His countenance now brightened up, and he seemed to be animated by a more than usual flow of spirits.

A storm of snow began now to descend as we gathered snugly around the cheerful fire, and for a time enjoyed ourselves in familiar converse by its uncertain light. Candles had been brought, and Mrs. Stevens was busying herself with the tea arrangements, when the bell rang, and Mr. Roscoe was ushered into the parlour; but he came alone. "I am sorry to inform you, Madam, that Sophia will not be able to be with you this evening, as she has caught a cold."

"I hope, Sir," said Mr. Llewellin, with a certain awkwardness of manner of which gentlemen are sometimes guilty when they feel _too much to express_, "that she is not materially affected by it."

"O no, Sir, it is only a slight cold, and she is unwilling to expose herself to the night-air, lest she should be incapable of going to church in the morning."

After tea our conversation turned upon the festivals of the church, and the propriety of observing those days which are set apart for the celebration of the great events which stand connected with the redemption of man. "I was once," said Mr. Roscoe, "superstitiously attached to these days, and regarded them with more reverence than I did the Sabbath; but I have now corrected the error into which I had fallen, and though I still reverence them more than the common days of the year, I do not look upon them as equal to the Sabbath in obligation or sanctity."

"Some Dissenters," said Mrs. Stevens, "who wish to get as far away from the church as they can, reprobate this observance as savouring of Popery. Is it not so, Mr. Llewellin?"

"Yes, aunt, they do; and in doing so, they go from one extreme to the other. Their aversion to superstition is so strong, that they cannot observe these commemorative days of Christianity with feelings of reverence and delight, because the zealous patrons of the church invest many of them with more sanctity than they attribute to the Sabbath. As time is the regular and unbroken succession of minutes, hours, days, months, and years, one portion of it cannot be more sacred than another, unless it derives a sanctity from the command of God; and since he has enjoined the observance of the Sabbath only, as that portion of time which we are to hold sacred, we feel ourselves under no obligation to keep the holidays which are set apart by mere human authority."

"But, Sir," interposed Mr. Roscoe, "though we do not exalt the holidays of our church to equal sanctity with the Christian Sabbath, yet as the recurrence of the anniversaries of great events in the history of man is known to impart to past transactions a degree of interest which is not so powerfully felt at other times, is there not a propriety in observing these commemorative days, if we are anxious to derive from past events the powerful lessons which they ought to teach?"

"Most certainly," returned Mr. Llewellin. "I do not object to these commemorative days, though some of my brethren do, but gladly avail myself of them, as a means of recalling to remembrance the great facts which stand inseparably connected with my redemption. I can go with you to church on a Christmas morning, to celebrate the birth of my Saviour--on a Good Friday, to commemorate his death--and on an Easter Sunday, to rejoice in his resurrection. And though some may censure this as a dereliction of principle, I do not so view it. It gives me greater pleasure to unite with my fellow-Christians, than to live in a state of alienation from them: and while I would condemn all superstitious attachment to these days, I would reprobate the spirit which treats them with contempt."

"I am happy to find," observed Mrs. Stevens, "that you have not lost your catholic spirit by associating with your brethren in the metropolis; and I hope you have been the means of diffusing its mellowing influence amongst them--softening down their prejudices, and bringing them over to a more friendly intimacy with their fellow-Christians of the Establishment."

"Since you left us," rejoined Mr. Roscoe, "I have examined some of the reasons which induce you to dissent from our Establishment: and though they have not produced the same effect on my mind which they have on yours, yet I think it right to confess, that they have convinced me of the impropriety of censuring you, and of the folly, not to use a stronger term, of allowing a difference of opinion on minor questions of religion to operate as a barrier to Christian fellowship."

"I am really happy to hear you make such a concession; it exactly accords with my own views:" and turning towards Mrs. Stevens, he said, "You seem to think, aunt, that all the bigotry of religion is on our side."

"Quite enough of it," she replied.

"Too much, I grant; but with all due deference, I think that you of the Establishment have the greatest share amongst yourselves."

Vol. i. page 551.]

"Bigotry amongst us! A libel! a libel!" Mrs. Stevens returned, with an expression of feigned indignation.

"I suppose, aunt, you are become a believer in the modern doctrine of libel; which teaches us, that _the greater the truth, the greater the libel_."

"Well, well, we won't contest this point; but rather regret that there should be still found amongst any of us a vestige of that anti-Christian spirit, which keeps asunder those who are united in the bonds of the everlasting covenant, and who look forward to dwell together in that heavenly world, where no discordant notes will ever break the harmony of holy fellowship."

"It is when we view religion," remarked Mr. Roscoe, "as connected with this world--as coming in contact with our prejudices, and our passions--as trespassing upon the sanctity of our opinions, and threatening to disturb them, that we imperceptibly imbibe an anti-Christian feeling towards those who differ from us: but when we view it as connected with eternity--as involving the glory of God in the transformation of the human character; and when we distinctly recognize the action of his power, in setting apart a peculiar people to display before the men of the world a palpable evidence of the unity of our essential faith, our mind becomes imperceptibly imbued with the spirit of the Redeemer, who loves no disciple _more_ because he is a Churchman, and no disciple _less_ because he is a Dissenter--having given his life a ransom for all who trust in him for salvation."

The conversation was here interrupted by the sweet voices of children singing a Christmas carol in front of the house. We listened for some minutes, when Mrs. Stevens proposed that the choir should be invited into the hall, where they would be sheltered from the snow which was drifting against them. I immediately opened the door, which threw them into some confusion, and they were on the eve of scampering away. I requested them to come in; and taking hold of the hand of the youngest girl, I brought her into the hall, when, after some backwardness and hesitation, the rest cheerfully followed her. Mrs. Stevens welcomed them, and was pleased to recognize in the young singers some of her own Sunday scholars, who, in spite of snow and drift, had carried out this plan of showing their attachment to her. Their bonnets and cloaks were taken off; and after they had had some refreshment and warmed themselves by the fire, Mr. Llewellin consented to play on the piano, and we all joined the youthful choristers in singing the praises of the Redeemer. Thus pleasantly passed away the hours of the evening, without entailing guilt or self-reproach; and having rewarded those who came to afford us gratification, we allowed them to depart, happy and contented.

On the following morning we rose at the usual hour, and after the devotions of the family were concluded we took breakfast. The ground was carpeted with the snow which had fallen last night, but the weather was clear and dry above, and we contrived to reach church without much inconvenience. On entering the sacred building, in which I had on past occasions listened with delight to the glad tidings of salvation, and where many who were then assembled had received the first impressions of truth on their hearts, my eye caught sight of the venerable Rector, who had just raised his face from its concealment under the folds of his surplice, having invoked in silent prayer the Divine blessing on himself and his congregation. The time that had elapsed since I had previously met with him had not passed lightly over his head, for he now bore evident marks of increasing age and infirmity. When the audience stood up, as he began the service, I thought of the venerable patriarch who, when addressing the tribes of Israel just before his departure, said--"I am an hundred and twenty years old this day; I can no more go out and come in." Though his hand shook, and his general appearance indicated great bodily weakness, yet his voice was strong, and he read the whole service with great impressiveness and solemnity. Having finished it he threw off the surplice, and ascended the pulpit; and looking around with a benignant smile on his crowded auditory, he once more knelt to pray to Him who rewards with the open manifestations of his grace the prayers of his faithful servants. He chose the following text:--"For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us: nor yet that he should offer himself often, as the high-priest entereth into the holy place every year with blood of others; for then must he often have suffered since the foundation of the world: but now once, in the end of the world, hath he appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself" (Heb. ix. 24-26). After a few introductory observations, he said, "Allow me to call your attention to--

"I. The Saviour's appearance on earth. Mark,

"_First._ The time of his coming. It was in the end of the world; that is, at the conclusion of the Levitical dispensation.

"_Second._ The design of his appearance--to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.

"_Third._ The perfection of the sacrifice which he offered--verses 25, 26.

"The Jewish sacrifices," said the venerable Rector, "removed ceremonial defilement, and the guilt of the sins which were committed against the political and ecclesiastical laws of the theocracy; but they could not expiate the guilt of the sins committed against God, nor restore peace to the conscience of the transgressor: and their perpetual repetition, during the succeeding periods of that dispensation, was an unequivocal proof of their inefficacy. But such was the efficacy of the sacrifice which Jesus Christ presented, when he offered up himself to God, that he made a full expiation for the sins of his people, and procured for them pardon, acceptance, and eternal life. When his enemies stood gazing on him, as the blood was flowing from his veins, they were unconscious of the great moral effects which that precious blood was actually producing. It was throwing back an influence on the ages which were past--cancelling the arrears which were due to the justice of God from the redeemed who had been pressing into the kingdom of heaven from the death of Abel to that hour; and it was extending forward to the end of time a source of merit, which would take away the guilt of all who should believe in him. And yet, my brethren, though the Scriptures declare, in the most decisive terms, that we have redemption through the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of our sins, many impeach the efficacy of the atonement, and some would expunge it from the Christian system. But if they are disposed to mistrust its efficacy in relation to themselves, why not suffer it to remain for the benefit of others? Take away the atonement of Christ from the scheme of redemption, and you commit an act more cruel towards man than that of which a Levite would have been guilty had he, under cloud of night, carried off the brazen serpent, which was the only means of saving the people from the agonies of a lingering but certain death. Take away the atonement of Christ from the scheme of redemption, and you commit a deed more cruel than that of which the high-priest would have been guilty, had he drained off the waters of Bethesda the night before the descent of the angel, by whose mysterious power they became the means of healing the withered, the halt, and the blind. O, take not from the sanctuary of the Lord the blood of sprinkling that speaketh better things than the blood of Abel: it is the only voice that speaks the words of peace to man, when stung by remorse, or agitated by fear.

"II. The Saviour's appearance in heaven.

"_First._ Where does he appear? In heaven itself.

"_Second._ For whom does he appear? For us.

"_Third._ For what purpose does he appear?

"It hath pleased God," said the preacher, when illustrating this part of his subject, "in the conveyance of blessings to man, to appoint a regular system of agency and means as the medium through which they are given. To object to such an appointment is no less an insult to his authority, than an impeachment of his wisdom. It is but rarely, indeed, that such an act of folly and impiety is committed in relation to the minor gifts which he bestows. Life is preserved, not by a direct and arbitrary exertion of his power, but by the reception of food prepared by the labour and skill of man, and received according to the ordinance of his appointment. Evils which threaten our honour and happiness are averted, not by a visible interposition of his providence, but by the influence and exertions of our friends, who are employed under his direction. If, then, on this general principle the ordinary affairs of his wise and benevolent administration are conducted; and if this principle be admitted by us, and we feel its practical utility, why should we object to the adoption of it in reference to a more important and a more momentous course of procedure? Why refuse to admit that Jesus Christ is the medium through whom all the designs of mercy and grace, in relation to man, are accomplished? If it hath pleased the Father that in him all fulness should dwell, ought we to object to such an arrangement? Is it wise? Is it becoming? Is it safe? But, brethren, I hope better things of you, though I thus speak. You feel too deeply your obligations to the Redeemer, for laying down his life a ransom for you, to wish to rob him of the glory of your salvation--and are too deeply interested in the result of his appearance in the presence of God for you, to exclude him from your affections and confidence. He now appears in the presence of God to intercede for you; and on his intercession your present safety and happiness, and your future glory depend."

The looks, the tones, and the manner of the speaker showed that he was thoroughly impressed with the importance of his subject; and being earnest himself, an evident impression was produced on his audience.

On leaving church, I was walking a little behind Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, and Mr. Llewellin, and was much pleased to find my old friend, Farmer Pickford, and his wife, waiting on the roadside to speak to me.

"I am main glad, Sir, to see you back amongst us once more; and I hope you will come some day and take pot-luck with us."

"Yes, do, Sir," said Mrs. Pickford, "we shall be so glad to see you. Our eldest son often talks about you. We hope what you said, when reading the Bible, and your prayer, have been made a great blessing to his soul."

"He'll be a better man than his father, and no mistake. Why, Sir, he knows more of the Bible already than Parson Cole; he can say more varses than the Parson can; and he can tell the meaning of them too. I and my mistress often sit up a bit at night, after the rest are gone to bed, to hear his talk about the good things of the Bible."

"Have you established family prayer in your family?"

"Yes, Sir," said Mrs. Pickford. "Our son prays with the family every night."

"Aye, Sir, it would do your heart good to hear our Harry pray. He often makes me weep when I am hearkening to him. Why, at his age, and a longful while after, I was a wild, wicked man. I have sinned a main lot of sins in my time, the more's the pity; but now I know the blood of Christ cleanses from all sin. What a mercy! Things are changed amongst us for the better."

"Yes, Sir," rejoined his wife; "the wilderness is now a fruitful field. We have no swearing, or drunkenness, or Sabbath-breaking, amongst us now. We are so happy, and thankful to the Lord and to you."

"I suppose, farmer, you would not like to have things changed back again to their former state?"

"I would rather die first, and no mistake. What! swear again--and get drunk again--and break the Sabbath again--and be the same man I was when you gave us the first talk about the worth of the soul. The Lord, I hope, will never let that come to pass."

"My heart would burst to see it," exclaimed Mrs. Pickford. "Our Henry tells his father, that when the Lord begins the work of grace in the soul, he always goes on with it."

"The Lord has done a little for me, I do believe; because I should never have done it myself without him; but I can't get on in knowledge and in grace, like my mistress and our Harry. I am dullish like, except in the matter of farming. But I hate sin, love my Bible, trust in Christ for salvation; and I think at times it will be well with me at last. I am happy to tell you, Sir, we now all go to chapel at night."

"So then, farmer, you have got over your scruples, and go and hear my friend, Mr. Stevens, on a Sabbath evening."