The next day, in the afternoon, Dr. Barlow called on us. By the uncommon
seriousness of his countenance I saw something was the matter. "You will
be shocked," said he, "to hear that Mr. Tyrrel is dying, if not actually
dead. He was the night before last seized with a paralytic stroke. He
lay a long time without sense or motion; a delirium followed. In a short
interval of reason he sent, earnestly imploring to see me. Seldom have I
witnessed so distressing a scene.
"As I entered the room he fixed his glassy eyes full upon me, quite
unconscious who I was, and groaned out in an inward hollow voice--'Go to
now, ye rich men, weep and howl, for your miseries are come upon you.' I
asked how he did. He replied still from St. James: 'How? why my gold and
silver are cankered, the rust of them shall witness against me; they eat
up my flesh as it were fire.'
"I was astonished," continued Dr. Barlow, "to see so exact a memory
coupled with so wild an imagination. 'Be composed, sir,' said I, seeing
he began to recollect me, 'this deep contrition is a favorable symptom.'
'Dr. Barlow,' replied he, grasping my hand with a vehemence which
corresponded with his look, 'have you never heard of riches kept by the
owner thereof to his hurt? Restitution! Doctor, restitution! and it must
be immediate, or it will be too late.' I was now deeply alarmed.
'Surely, sir,' said I, 'you are not unhappily driven to adopt St.
James's next words--forgive me but--you can not surely have defrauded.'
'O no, no,' cried he, 'I have been what the world calls honest, but not
what the Judge of quick and dead will call so. The restitution I must
make is not to the rich, for any thing I have _taken_ from them, but to
the poor, for what I have _kept_ from them. Hardness of heart would have
been but a common sin, in a common man; but I have been a professor,
Doctor, I will not say a hypocrite, for I deceived myself as much as
others. But oh! how hollow has my profession been!'
"Here seeing him ready to faint," continued Dr. Barlow, "I imposed
silence on him, till he had taken a cordial. This revived him, and he
went on.
"'I was miserable in my early course of profligacy. I was disappointed
in my subsequent schemes of ambition. I expected more from the world
than it had to give. But I continued to love it with all its
disappointments. Under whatever new shape it presented its temptations,
it was still my idol. I had always loved money; but other passions more
turbulent had been hitherto predominant. These I at length renounced.
Covetousness now became my reigning sin. Still it was to the broken
cistern that I cleaved. Still it was on the broken reed that I leaned.
Still I was unhappy, I was at a loss whither to turn for comfort. Of
religion I scarcely knew the first principles.
"'In this state I met with a plausible, but ill-informed man. He had
zeal, and a sort of popular eloquence; but he wanted knowledge, and
argument, and soundness. I was, however, struck with his earnestness,
and with the importance of some truths which, though common to others,
were new to me. But his scheme was hollow and imperfect, and his leading
principle subversive of all morality.'
"Here Mr. Tyrrel paused. I intreated him to spare himself; but after a
few deep groans he proceeded.
"'Whether his opinions had made _himself_ immoral I never inquired. It
is certain they were calculated to make his hearers so. Instead of
lowering my spiritual disease, by prescribing repentence and humility,
he inflamed it by cordials. All was high, all was animating all was
safe! On no better ground than my avowed discontent, he landed me at one
in a security so much the more fatal, as it laid asleep all
apprehension. He mistook my uneasiness for a complete change. My talking
of sin was made a substitute for my renouncing it. Proud of a rich man
for a convert, he led me to mistake conviction for conversion. I was
buoyed up with an unfounded confidence. I adopted a religion which
promised pardon without repentance, happiness without obedience, and
heaven without holiness. I had found a short road to peace. I never
inquired if it were a safe one.'
"The poor man now fell back, unable to speak for some minutes. Then
rallying again, he resumed, in a still more broken voice:
"'Here I stopped short. My religion had made no change in my heart, it
therefore made none in my life. I read good books, but they were low and
fanatical in their language, and Antinomian in their principle. But my
religious ignorance was so deplorable, that their novelty caught strong
hold of me.'
"I now desired him," continued Dr. Barlow, "not to exhaust himself
further. I prayed with him. He was struck with awe at the holy energy in
the office for the sick, which was quite new to him. He owned he had not
suspected the church to be so evangelical. This is no uncommon error.
Hot-headed and superficial men, when they are once alarmed, are rather
caught by phrases than sentiments, by terms than principles. It is this
ignorance of the doctrines of the Bible and of the church, in which men
of the world unhappily live, that makes it so difficult for us to
address them under sickness and affliction. We have no common ground on
which to stand; no intelligible medium through which to communicate with
them. It is having both a language and a science to learn at once."
In the morning Dr. Barlow again visited Mr. Tyrrel. He found him still
in great perturbation of mind. Feeling himself quite sensible, he had
begun to make his will. He had made large bequests to several charities.
Dr. Barlow highly approved of this; but reminded him, that though he
himself would never recommend charity as a commutation or a bribe, yet
some immediate acts of bounty, while there was a possibility of his
recovery, would be a better earnest of his repentance than the
bequeathing his whole estate when it could be of no further use to
himself. He was all acquiescence.
He desired to see Mr. Stanley. He recommended to him his nephew, over
whose conduct Mr. Stanley promised to have an eye. He made him and Dr.
Barlow joint executors. He offered to leave them half his fortune. With
their usual disinterestedness they positively refused to accept it, and
suggested to him a better mode of bestowing it.
He lifted up his hands and eyes, saying, "This is indeed
Christianity--pure, undefiled religion! If it be not faith, it is its
fruits. If it be not the procuring cause of salvation, it is one
evidence of a safe state. O, Mr. Stanley, our last conversation has sunk
deep into my heart. You had begun to pull the vail from my eyes; but
nothing tears the whole mask off, like the hand of death, like impending
judgment. How little have I considered eternity! Judgment was not in all
my thoughts, I had got rid of the terrors of responsibility! O, Dr.
Barlow, is there any hope for me?"
"Sir," replied the Doctor, "your sin is not greater because you feel it:
so far from it, your danger diminishes in proportion as it is discerned.
Your condition is not worse but better, because you are become sensible
of your own sins and wants. I judge far more favorably of your state
now, than when you thought so well of it. Your sense of the evil of your
own heart is the best proof of your sincerity; your repentance toward
God is the best evidence of your faith in our Lord Jesus Christ."
"Doctor, it is too late," replied the sick man. "How can I show that my
repentance is sincere? In this miserable condition how can I glorify
God?"
"Sir," replied Dr. Barlow, "you must lay anew the whole foundation of
your faith. That Saviour whom you had unhappily adopted as a substitute
for virtue, must be received as a propitiation for sin. If you recover,
you must devote yourself, spirit, soul, and body, to his service. You
must adorn his gospel by your conduct; you must plead his cause in your
conversation; you must recommend his doctrines by your humility; you
must dedicate every talent God has given you to his glory. If he
continue to visit you with sickness, this will call new and more
difficult Christian graces into exercise. If by this severe affliction
you lose all ability to do God actual service, you may perhaps glorify
him more effectually by casting yourself entirely on him for support, by
patient suffering for his sake who suffered every thing for yours. You
will have an additional call for trusting in the divine promises; an
additional occasion of imitating the divine example; a stronger motive
for saying practically, The cup which my Father has given me, shall I
not drink it?"
"O, Doctor," said the unhappy man, "my remorse arises not merely from
my having neglected this or that moral duty, this or that act of
charity, but from the melancholy evidence which that neglect affords
that my religion was not sincere."
"I repeat, sir," said Dr. Barlow, "that your false security and
unfounded hope were more alarming than your present distress of mind.
Examine your own heart, fear not to probe it to the bottom; it will be a
salutary smart. As you are able, I will put you into a course of reading
the Scriptures, with a view to promote self-examination. Try yourself by
the strait rule they hold out. Pray fervently that the Almighty may
assist you by his Spirit, and earnestly endeavor to suffer as well as to
do his whole will."
Dr. Barlow says, he thinks there is now as little prospect of his
perfect recovery as of his immediate dissolution; but as far as one
human creature can judge of the state of another, he believes the
visitation will be salutary.