peasantry, finding that they were protected by the laws of the
country, resolutely determined to enjoy the freedom which no man
could take from them. They now pressed in greater numbers to hear
the preacher, who had given such decisive proofs that he knew how
to practise the forbearance which he enforced, and exercise the
mercy which it was his duty and his delight to proclaim. When
preaching one Sabbath evening, shortly after the trial, from 1
Tim. i. 13--"Who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and
injurious: but I have obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in
unbelief"--he saw two of the ring-leaders of the late riot sitting
in a back seat in the gallery of the chapel. Without appearing to
notice them, he took occasion, from the subject he was discussing,
to make a strong appeal to their consciences. After delineating the
character of Paul, as a blasphemer and a persecutor, and as one who
had injured the reputation and destroyed the peace of others, he
passed by a natural transition to his present audience, and thus
addressed them:--"Happy would it have been for the world, if the
spirit of persecution had died out of it when Saul of Tarsus was
converted to the faith of Christ; but alas! my brethren, it survived
that memorable event, and has continued in existence to the present
day. In former times it dragged the disciples of the Redeemer to
prison, confiscated their property, and then consigned them to the
flames; and though its power is now restrained by the laws of our
country, yet it still retains all its native rancour and malignity.
It would now react the part by which it formerly disgraced our
national history, and plunge us into all the horrors and sufferings
which our ancestors endured; but thanks to a kind and merciful
Providence, we are guarded from its violence by the majesty of the
British law, and are permitted to assemble together, where and when
we please, without dreading opposition or disturbance from any one.
"Our duty in relation to our persecutors is to pity them, for they
do it ignorantly in unbelief, and to pray that they may obtain
mercy. And have we not encouragement to do this, seeing that God
is sometimes pleased to transform the persecutor into a preacher
of the gospel? Hence the apostle, when writing to the church at
Galatia, says: 'But they had heard only, that he which persecuted
us in times past, now preacheth the faith which once he destroyed.'
What a change! What a miracle of grace! What a proof that Christ
Jesus came to save the chief of sinners! And am I now addressing
any one who has attempted to disturb us in the enjoyment of our
religious privileges, or who has been in the habit of reviling or
threatening us? You see how we are protected, and though we have not
chosen to enforce the full penalties of the law, yet a repetition
of the offence will render such forbearance in future absolutely
impossible. But I flatter myself, that those who have opposed us,
will do so no more; and that even the persecutors themselves may be
induced to implore mercy. Yes, O persecutor, He against whom thou
hast raised the rebellious hand, waits to be gracious--_he_, whose
authority thou hast trampled on, and whose grace thou hast despised,
is now looking down with an eye of compassion, more willing to
pardon and to save, than to punish and destroy. If you continue in
a state of rebellious impenitence, you will treasure up to yourself
wrath against the day of wrath; but if you now repent and pray, and
believe in him, you will be forgiven, and finally admitted into
his presence in heaven, where you will enjoy a state of purity and
happiness for ever. Let me then urge you to return home, and on your
knees pour forth the prayer of the publican, 'God be merciful to me
a sinner;' and should it please God, who 'delighteth in mercy,' to
answer this prayer, you will then feel a stronger attachment than
you ever felt aversion to the gospel of Christ."
It often happens that the cause of the Redeemer is promoted by the
very means employed to crush it; and of the truth of this remark
the above narrative furnishes a striking instance. Mr. Swinson's
congregation at Lynnbridge increased so rapidly, that _it_ became
necessary to erect a large front gallery in the chapel; and many of
the inhabitants of remoter parishes, being induced to come and hear
the man who had been so unjustly treated, solicited him to visit
them and preach during the evenings of the week. "So mightily grew
the word of God, and prevailed" (Acts xix. 20).
VILLAGE CHARACTERS.
A few weeks after the termination of the struggle, so successfully
maintained by the managers of the village chapel, against the
encroachments of bigotry and intolerance, I received a letter
from Mr. Newell informing me that Mr. and Mrs. Holmes had quitted
Thornwood to return to the Elms, but had left Miss Holmes to remain
a little longer with him and Mrs. Newell. He proceeded to say,
that as his friends who had filled his house were now departed, he
should be very happy if I would pay him a visit, and that if I could
arrange to remain for a little time, I might then accompany Louisa
on her return to the Elms, and thus fulfil the promise which I had
formerly made to Mr. Holmes. This invitation came very opportunely,
as I had just been labouring under a slight indisposition, for which
change of air was strongly recommended. I had a great desire, too,
to see again both Mr. Newell and Miss Holmes; and, accordingly,
after arranging matters for an absence of a short period, I took my
seat in the coach to Lynnbridge, where Mr. Newell was waiting to
receive me with his chaise. Till then I had never before been in
that part of the country, and was quite delighted with the beautiful
drive from Lynnbridge to Thornwood. On arriving there I had the
pleasure of meeting again Miss Holmes and Mrs. Newell, neither of
whom I had seen since the marriage of the latter a few years before
in London. I need not here enlarge on the kind reception which
I received from all, or recount the details of the pleasant and
cheerful conversation in which we spent the evening.
The following day, after an early dinner, Miss Holmes, Mrs.
Newell, and myself (Mr. Newell having some business to attend to)
sallied out for a walk. "Louisa shall be our cicerone," said Mrs.
Newell; "I think she knows more of the country hereabouts than
I, who have lived in it for several years." "Perhaps, Mr. ----,"
she continued, addressing me, "you would like to see some of our
VILLAGE CHARACTERS. They are to be found everywhere; but I think
this place has rather more than its share of them. Louisa, I
believe, knows them all already, as she is a most ardent student
of the different phases of humanity." I, of course, expressed my
readiness to accompany the ladies wherever they chose to lead me;
and we, accordingly, bent our footsteps towards a homestead about
a mile off, occupied by Mr. William Harris, one of the finest
specimens of the old English farmer I had seen for a long time. He
was a stout-built man, rather inclined to corpulency, with a fresh
ruddy face and a sharp keen eye; but the best description I can give
of him is that furnished me by Miss Holmes, as we walked towards his
house.
"Mr. Harris," she said, "is, as might be expected, blunt in his
manners, but frank and obliging in his disposition, of an hospitable
and genial nature, and as regular as clock-work in all his domestic
arrangements. He lives in the house in which his grandfather was
born, and which is shaded by a large oak tree, that has outlived
many generations, and is likely to outlive many more. He rises in
the summer about five, breakfasts at half-past six, takes his dinner
exactly as the clock strikes twelve, smokes his pipe in the porch
between six and seven, then takes his supper, and retires at nine,
to sleep away the long and tedious hours of night. He is, upon the
whole, a very worthy man, though rather pedantic in his way. He
received what he calls an _edecation_, when young; his father having
sent him for six months to a boarding-school about twelve miles off;
besides giving the old parish clerk two guineas to teach him the
rules of addition and multiplication. He farms a small property of
his own, on which his modest mansion stands, and rents another farm
about double the size, under Lord ----; and is regarded by most of
his fraternity rather clever in his profession. He is a good judge
of live stock; is celebrated for the excellence of his butter and
cheese; decidedly attached to his Church and his Queen; generally
consulted on all parish questions; and universally admitted to be
one of the best weather-tellers in the neighbourhood, though the
shepherd says he has known him out in his reckonings. He has served
the office of overseer eleven times, which forms one of his chief
tales in all companies; has been churchwarden six times; was, when
a young man, regularly enrolled amongst the yeomanry of the country
at the time of the threatened invasion in the year 1804, and often
expresses his regret that no opportunity ever occurred to enable him
to distinguish himself in the annals of war. He goes to church with
his comely dame every Sunday; repeats the responses in an audible
voice; reclines his head on the top of his staff, while _appearing_
to listen to the sermon; reads one chapter in the Old Testament and
one in the New every Sunday afternoon; and then indulges himself
with an extra glass and pipe with a few friends, either at his own
house, or at the inn on the green. But he is, to quote his own
language, a _mortal enemy_ to the Methodists; and will not suffer
any of his servants, if he knows it, to attend the chapel. He says
that the old religion is the best; and he thinks that no one ought
to be suffered to change it. He often says he hopes to live long
enough to see the Toleration Act repealed, which he declares is a
disgrace to parliament."
He happened to be smoking his pipe, with his arms resting on the
little gate in the front of his house, as we were approaching it;
and in exchange for the courteous salutation we gave him, he invited
us to taste his ale, which, he said, was a prime fresh tap. This
offer we declined with thanks, as we preferred a glass of cold
water, which excited his astonishment.
"You like water better than good ale! well, every one to his liking,
I say; but give me a good tankard of prime home-brewed. You be a
stranger, I think, Sir, in these parts," he continued, addressing
me, "I don't remember of ever seeing you here before."
"I have never been in this part of the country before," I replied,
"and have just been admiring the fine scenery which surrounds your
village on all sides. There is a good proportion of hill and dale;
and the parish church on the brow of the hill, looking down to the
river, is a most interesting object."
"Yes, Sir, it looks very well. There were no trees about it, except
the old yews, till I was appointed churchwarden, fourteen years
ago, last Easter Monday, when I had them planted, and they have
thriv'd very well. I have heard many gentlemen say it is a great
improvement. They say it gives a kind of a finish to our church.
They have often drunk my health for doing it."
"But the inside of the church is not so neat and clean as the
outside is imposing."
"No, Sir, it's sadly neglected now; but when I was warden, it was
the cleanest church in our parts."
"How often have you duty performed in it?"
"Once every Sunday, when I and my dame go as regularly as the doors
are opened; except when it's very wet, and then I go alone. She
has a touch of the rheumatics in bad weather; worse luck: and gets
deafish if she goes."
"As it is so small, I suppose it is crowded on the Sunday?"
"Why, no, not much of that; for the people go to the chapel that's
built yonder on the green. People now-a-days an't satisfied with the
good old religion of the Church; they must have this new religion
that's springing up all over the country."
"Do you know what this new religion is?"
"No, Sir. I'm satisfied with the religion my fathers had before me,
and so I don't trouble my head about it; but I understand it makes
people very miserable. Now, my religion never made me miserable, and
I don't think it ever will. I am for letting well alone."
"I suppose you wish to go to heaven when you die?"
"Aye, to be sure, I do. I shouldn't like to go to t'other place.
They are badish off there, so the parsons tell us; and I suppose
they know all about it, as they studied at the univarsaty."
"But we ought not to expect to get to a place unless we go the right
way."
"That's true, and no mistake."
"Have you ever thought much about the difficulty of getting into
the right way which leads to heaven? I suppose you have read
what Jesus Christ says on this point? 'Enter ye in at the strait
gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to
destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: because strait
is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few
there be that find it' (Matt. vii. 13, 14)."
"Aye, I recollect reading them _varses_ t'other Sunday, and I felt a
bit puzzled to make out their meaning."
"But, Farmer, they have a meaning, and a very important meaning."
"So I guess, or Jesus Christ wouldn't had them put into the Bible.
Can you tell me the meaning, as I should like to know?"
"Why, the meaning is just this: the many get into the broad way,
that is, the wrong way, and they are lost, and perish in hell. Have
you not read the verses which almost immediately follow?--'Many will
say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy
name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done
many wonderful works? and then will I profess unto them, I never
knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity' (Matt. vii. 22,
23)."
"Now, Sir, allow me to ask you one question. If we go to church,
and pay every one his own, and are as good as we can be, do you not
think that we shall go to heaven when we die? We can't be better
than that, you know, Sir; and there are not many in these parts so
good as that."
"As you have asked me a question, will you allow me to ask you one?"
"Yes, Sir; twenty, if you please."
"Are you as good as you can be?"
"Why, to be sure, Sir, I might be a bit better; but you know we are
all sinners: the more's the pity."
"Then, how can you expect to go to heaven on your own principle
of reasoning? Now, Farmer, let me tell you, that you are under a
delusion which will prove fatal unless you are undeceived. If you
read the New Testament with attention, you will perceive, that two
things are necessary to fit us for heaven: the first is, we must be
born again; and the second is, we must repent of, and forsake all
our sins, and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ."
"Repentance: aye, that's very proper when people do wrong; but I
have never done anything I am ashamed of. Why, Sir, I have been
overseer eleven times; and there's ne'er a pauper in the parish but
will say that I always acted with the greatest charity. I go to
church--read my Bible--and pay everybody his own; and I don't think
God requires anything more than this; and I suppose you will think
this is very fair as times go?"
"But are you born again?"
"I don't know what that means; it puzzles my brains; but then I'm no
scolard; though I know a good bit about farming, like."
"Then if you do not know what it is to be born again, that's a proof
that you are not born again, for if you were, you would understand
what it is."
"Well, I suppose I should. Then according to your talk, though
I go to church, I am not likely after all to go to heaven. If
you are right, I am on the wrong tack; but what must I do to get
right? 'Tis time I looked about me, for I shall be sixty-eight next
Lady-day, and that's a great age; though my father lived till he was
fourscore, and my grandfather was ninety-one when he died; and I
had an uncle who lived to see a hundred and three. You see we are a
longish-lived set--about the oldest livers in these parts."
"I think you can't do a better thing than overcome your prejudices,
and go and hear the preaching at the village chapel, where these
things will be explained to you; and it is very likely that there
you will gain in a few months more information on religious subjects
than you have acquired in all your life."
At the mention of the chapel he shrugged up his shoulders and said,
"Why, if I was to go there I should have half the parish laughing at
me. I shouldn't be able to show my face at market. My old friends
would give me the cold shoulder. No, no, it will never do for an
old warden, who has been in office so often, to leave church and our
old Rector, for a Methody chapel and a Methody parson."
"One word, Farmer, and I will soon finish. Are you such a coward as
to care for what others say, when you are doing a thing for your own
advantage? Will you suffer the laugh of the ungodly to deter you
from getting into the _narrow_ way that leads to heaven; and consent
to be lost with the many, rather than saved with the few?"
"These sartanly are plain questions, and I'll give them a turn over
in my mind. I must confess that your talk has satisfied me--that I
know but little--the more's the pity--about the good things of the
Bible; and I think as how I shall take your advice, and go and hear
the gentleman who preaches in the chapel. If I don't like what he
says, I need not go again, and it is but right to give him a hearing
before one condemns him."
"Very true."
We now wished Mr. Harris good day, and proceeded on our walk. A
short distance onward we passed a neat cottage by the roadside, in
the little garden in front of which we saw a lady walking up and
down at a solemn pace. As Mrs. Newell was acquainted with her she
stopped to ask her how she did. As she did not perceive us before
Mrs. Newell spoke, being wrapped up in her own airy musings, she
seemed startled, as though some spectre had suddenly made its
appearance, but recovering her composure, she politely invited us to
enter her modest habitation.
"I am sorry, Madam," said Mrs. Newell, in her usual kind manner, "to
see you so indisposed."
"Indeed," said Miss Newnham, "I am very ill--very ill indeed. I was
never worse in all my life. I have not had a wink of sleep these two
nights. I sent for the doctor yesterday, but he did not come till
this morning; and he says that I am not ill. But I feel that I am
very ill indeed. Dr. Bland does not understand my case. I shall send
for Dr. Gordon, who is more clever in his profession; so my aunt
tells me, and so my old servant says."
"Have you been ill long, Madam?" I inquired.
"O no, Sir! I was very well this day fortnight. I spent the evening
at Mrs. Paul's with a party, and stayed rather later than usual; and
on coming home, just as I was passing along the churchyard, I saw a
very bright star shoot down from the sky."
"It did not, I suppose, fall on you?"
"O no! it didn't fall on me; but, Sir, I had such a dream! and I
awoke about three o'clock in the morning in such a terror, that I
have not been well since. And every night, but two, since then, the
screech owl has perched itself on the ledge of my window, and kept
up its hideous noises so long, that I have been obliged to have my
servant sleep in the same room with me ever since, and that's a very
unpleasant thing: particularly so."
"And if, Madam, it be not an impertinent question, may I be
permitted to inquire into the nature of your dream?"
"O Sir! I dreamed I went to Weston to purchase a new dress; and the
shopman, by mistake, took down some crape instead of printed muslin;
and just at that time in came Mr. Noades, the undertaker, and said
he wanted some stuff for a shroud, for a lady who had died suddenly.
And I awoke in such a fright! Indeed, I have not been myself since.
My nerves are so shook. My very shadow makes me tremble. I am afraid
I'm going to die."
"Well, Madam, it is certain you will die, and you may die suddenly;
but do you think that this dream will hasten the time of your death?"
"But, Sir, when I awoke I heard the death-watch as plainly as you
now hear me speak."
"And do you suppose, Madam, that the Supreme Being has communicated
to this insect a knowledge of your approaching death, and sent it,
in the stillness of the night, to give you warning?"
"But, Sir, I heard the death-watch several times when my sister was
ill of a decline, and she died about six months afterwards. I said
she would die. I was quite sure she would."
"Very likely; and though you may trace a connection between her
disorder and her death, yet what connection can you trace between
the noise of this little insect and her death?"
"But, Sir, since the screech owl left my window, our dog has done
nothing but howl for the last two nights. O! it is so dismal to lie
awake and hear it. It makes me tremble like an aspen leaf."
"And do you think that the howling of the dog is a prognostic of
your death, any more than the death of either of your servants?"
"I remember, Sir, the dog howled most awfully just before my
grandmother died: and when she heard it she said she should be sure
to die, and she did die sure enough."
"And how old, Madam, was your grandmother when she died?"
"Ninety-two, all but four weeks and three days."
"And she really did hear the dog howl some short time before her
death?"
"Yes, Sir, about five nights before she died; and all the servants
heard it; and they were so frightened; and they all said, nothing
can save her after these howlings."
"Very likely; and as most dogs occasionally howl in the night,
it would be very strange if some person did not die after such
howlings; but can we suppose that the Supreme Being employs shooting
stars, insects, owls, and dogs, to announce to us the approach of
our death?"
"And don't you believe, Sir, in such omens? Everybody does in our
parish."
"I believe that ignorance and superstition have invested these
sights and sounds with an ominous import, and that many allow
themselves to be terrified by them; but what can be a stronger proof
of the absurdity of such a habit, than the fact that the star often
falls, the death-watch often ticks, and the dog often howls, when
the patient recovers, and lives for years to relate the terror and
alarm which these scare-crows of superstition had excited in his
breast."
"I hope, Sir, I may live, and if I do, I shall then have a proof
that there is nothing in it."
"And pray, Madam, have you never known a patient recover from his
illness even after he has been warned of his approaching death by
these omens of terror?"
"O yes, Sir, my dear mother was once very ill, and for seven nights
our dog howled as he did last night; but she lived seven years
afterwards, and when she died no noises were heard."
"Now, dear Madam, excuse me, a stranger, taking the liberty of
talking so to you; after what you have just mentioned, what stronger
proof do you require of the folly of being alarmed by sounds which
the inferior tribes of nature utter, and which you must know, on
reflection, are no sure indications of any future event in the
history of human life? That you will die is certain; and that you
will enter the eternal world is certain; and that you will stand
before the judgment-seat of Christ is certain; and that you are
ignorant of the exact time when these great events will take place
is equally certain; but instead of allowing your mind to be agitated
by these senseless sounds, you ought to be preparing for the final
issue of life."
Here our conversation ended, and we then took our leave, Miss
Newnham thanking me for the interest I had taken in her welfare, and
hoping that I would call again on her before I left Thornwood.