prescription which he gave to Mr. Russel. Indeed, I think you look
better. He says he has no doubt but you will recover; and all your
friends say that you must banish the thought of dying, as nothing
will tend so much to accelerate that awful event. I think they had
better come: they will put new life into you."
"Yes, they may tell me to banish the thought of dying, but I cannot
do it; it forces itself upon me in spite of all my resolutions to
avoid it."
"Dr. Bailey suggested to me to read some amusing book to you. Here
are the _Pickwick Papers_. Let me read you a chapter about Pickwick
and Sam Weller. I know how they used to make you laugh; and a hearty
laugh, to my mind, does more good than all the medicine in the
world."
"Neither Mr. Pickwick nor Sam Weller, my dear, would be proper
companions for me just now. I must pay respect to the sanctity of my
character. I should not object, if I get a little better, to your
reading me the _Vicar of Wakefield_, or a paper from the _Spectator_
or _Rambler_. But I fear my disease has gone too far to be checked
by any human expedient. I must yield to the law of nature, and
prepare for death; and it is, I assure you, an awful thing to
die--to go from one world to another."
"Well, my dear," replied his wife, "as you have long since made your
peace with God, you have nothing to fear; and therefore I hope you
will keep your mind composed."
"My mind is tolerably composed, Emily, except when delirious
thoughts come and throw it into a tumultuous agitation, and then I
feel wandering about in a maze of confusion. Death may be looked
upon by some, who have no taste for earthly enjoyments, with
peculiar interest, as the forerunner of their future bliss; but I
would rather live than die."
When Mr. Cole found himself getting worse, and his most sanguine
friends began to fear that the hour of his departure was at hand,
he wished to receive the sacrament; and the Rev. Dr. Greig, from a
neighbouring town, was requested to come and administer it to him.
The Doctor seemed much affected when introduced to his old friend;
and, after gently squeezing his hand, as a token of affection, he
sat down by his bedside.
"I am sorry, Sir," said the reverend Doctor, "to find you so
extremely ill; but I hope you will yet recover."
"That, I fear, is impossible; I must die; and I wish, before I die,
to receive the holy sacrament. I think it will put strength into my
soul, and enable me to meet death without dread."
"I hope you have no dread of death."
"Why, no, Doctor, I have no dread of death; but as it is the
passage into the eternal world, I feel that it is an awful thing to
die--more awful at the crisis than in anticipation."
"It may be awful to the wicked, but it cannot be to you, who have
spent your life in the public service of our Church, promoting the
cause of virtue and religion."
"I confess, Sir, that I have nothing to reproach myself with. I have
spent a long life in the service of our Church, and have endeavoured
to teach my parishioners the way to heaven; and as a recompense for
my well-meant efforts I hope eternal life will be given to me; but
now that death is near, I feel it to be a more awful thing to die
than when I viewed it at a distance. I now see the propriety of
the passage in our Burial Service--'O God, most mighty, O holy and
merciful Saviour, thou most worthy Judge, eternal, suffer us not at
our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from thee.'"
Dr. Greig now proceeded to read the Communion Service; and having
partaken of the elements himself, and given them to Mrs. Cole and
the nurse, he presented them to his dying friend, who ate the bread,
and drank the wine, with great solemnity of manner. The service
being ended, he said that he had one more request to make, and
then he should die in peace. "I wish, Doctor, you would read the
Burial Service at my interment, and preach my funeral sermon on the
following Sunday; and you may tell my parishioners, that I _die in
charity with all mankind_."
In about six hours after his friend left him, a change took place,
and he remained insensible the greater part of the night. Towards
the morning he awoke out of a deep sleep; and, having taken a little
refreshment, he sat very composedly for a few minutes. Looking
at his wife with intense earnestness, he said, "My dear Emily, I
suppose I must die;" and then he fell back on his pillow, heaved a
deep sigh, and expired. On the seventh day after his death he was
buried in a vault, near the communion table of his own church; and
Dr. Greig, according to his request, read the service, and delivered
his funeral discourse on the following Sabbath. The congregation,
which was unusually large, appeared deeply affected, especially
when the Doctor pointed to the tomb in which their deceased pastor
had just been interred.
In delineating the character or Mr. Cole, Dr. Greig dwelt for some
time on his classical taste and his literary acquirements; paid
a just tribute of praise to his amiable disposition and obliging
manners, and commended him for his uniform attachment to the
Church, of which he had been a minister for the greater part of
half a century; and concluded by saying, "His religion was not
of that austere cast which prohibits the innocent amusements and
gratifications of society, and dooms its possessor to a life of
perpetual gloom and mortification. It was an enlightened piety--a
piety which united the gravity of wisdom with a cheerful and
facetious spirit, which courted no popularity by the vanity of its
pretensions; which sought retirement rather than publicity; and
conciliated the favour of the Almighty by the practice of virtue,
rather than by the dogmas of belief. His life is an epitome of moral
virtue and social goodness, which may be read by all men with great
profit. It will teach us all, and especially the clergy of our
Church, how they should live, and what recompense they may expect to
receive when called to die, as a reward for their fidelity to their
charge. He did not, as we all know, in imitation of the example
of some, rob other churches to fill his own; but was contented to
preach to the select few who favoured him with their presence and
their friendship; and who, I doubt not, will revere his memory as
long as the power of recollection remains; and who, when the duties
of life are discharged, will go where he is gone, to renew the
intimacy of friendship, and enjoy the felicity of social converse.
And who is not struck with the dignified serenity of his death!
There were no raptures of enthusiasm in prospect of dissolution; no
flights of fancy; no rhapsodies of expression, as though he were
weary of life and longed to lose it; but a submission to the law of
nature, which requires that we must die, accompanied by a sublime
avowal which he wished me to make to you, _that he died in charity
with all mankind_."
In examining the character of these two clergymen, and reviewing
the temper of mind which they displayed in the immediate prospect
of entering the eternal world, the intelligent reader will perceive
a manifest difference; and though it does not become us to invade
the province of the Supreme Judge, and fix the final destiny of any
human being, yet we may be permitted to say, that the venerable
Ingleby bore the nearest resemblance, in his life and in his
death, to the ministers of the New Testament. If Mr. Cole was the
most learned man, Mr. Ingleby was the most spiritual; and though
Mr. Ingleby derived no gratification from the trifling amusements
of fashionable life, yet he uniformly displayed a cheerfulness
of disposition which became the sanctity of his office. Mr. Cole
consented to die because he could not live; while Mr. Ingleby
yielded up his life as a free-will offering to God who first gave
it, and then demanded it. In the death of Mr. Cole we can discover
no humility on account of the imperfections of his character--no
utterances of a mind delighting in communion with the great
Supreme--no reference to a Mediator, by whom the guilty and the
worthless are reconciled to the offended Sovereign--no ardent
anticipations of a state of changeless purity and glory; while,
in the closing scene of Mr. Ingleby's life, we behold a spirit,
yet inhabiting the tabernacle of earth, springing forward to meet
the great Deliverer--hailing his approach with mingled emotions of
awe and delight--giving utterance to the sublimest conceptions of
future bliss, and in language, such as Paul employed when treading
on the narrow isthmus which separates time from eternity. The death
of Mr. Cole was certainly the most calm; but it was the calm of a
stagnant pool, whose waters move not because they are unaffected by
any current; while the death of Mr. Ingleby resembled the peaceful
ripple of the crystal stream, as it moves tranquilly from its
source to swell the waters of the vast ocean. The one died like
a philosopher, over whose mind the light of evidence produced a
belief of the existence of an eternal world, which, alas! presented
no powerful attractions; the other, like a sinner, redeemed by the
precious blood of Christ, and made meet to possess the inheritance
of the saints in light, in comparison with which the brightest
honours of earth pass away as things of no value.
When the pastor of a Dissenting church is called away from his
flock, to give an account of his stewardship to the great Shepherd
and Bishop of souls, an event occurs in its history which generally
produces a most powerful effect on the minds of the surviving
members. As he, while living, was the pastor of their choice, so,
when dead, they cease not to venerate and esteem his memory. They
pay him, it is true, no superstitious homage. All they show is the
feeling of pure nature, which requires no artificial expedients
to express its affection for the object of its esteem when he is
taken away. But amongst them, while the pastor dies, the ministry
lives. They turn away from his tomb to listen to the voice of his
successor; and though they cannot easily transfer that strong
attachment and profound respect which have been the growth of a
long and close intimacy, yet they receive him in the Lord with all
gladness, and hold such in reputation.
In the choice of a successor they have great advantages over their
Christian brethren who are members of the Establishment. They are
not compelled to receive a pastor, but are left to choose one; and
hence, as is natural, they select one whose religious opinions
agree with their own, whose manner of preaching accords with
their own taste, and whose character is such as corresponds with
the sacredness of his profession. And though a popular election
is liable to some objections, yet, from the mode in which it is
generally conducted amongst them, they are but as the small dust
of the balance, when weighed against the sterling value of the
privilege which it involves and secures. The argument employed
by Dissenters in support of this practice is, in their judgment,
quite conclusive. They say, As we claim the right of choosing the
attorney whom we consult on a point of law--of choosing our surgeon
and physician when visited by sickness--of choosing the tutor under
whose care we place our children, we act still more in accordance
with the established laws of social life, and the most obvious
dictates of enlightened reason, when we exercise the right of choice
in relation to the pastor from whose public ministrations we are to
receive the consolations of the gospel of peace. In this instance,
no less than in others, a preference will be felt; and while we
hold all in reputation for their works' sake, who discharge the
sacred duties of the pastoral office with fidelity, we shall derive
a greater gratification, and higher degree of improvement, from the
labours of one for whose manner of preaching we may feel a decided
predilection and regard. When this right of choice is denied us,
we are compelled to receive a minister who has been appointed over
us by the authority of another, and if he be just such a one as
we like, no evil is produced; but suppose he reject the doctrines
which we receive as true, or suppose his style of preaching be in
direct opposition to our taste, or suppose his moral conduct be not
in exact accordance with his profession, what in such a case ought
to be our line of conduct? Can we expect to become established in
our faith, by going where that faith is perpetually assailed? Can
we expect to derive consolation, if we go where the manner in which
the message is offered offends our taste? Can we expect to venerate
the ministry, if the man who holds the hallowed office display not
the same mind which was in Christ Jesus our Lord? Impossible! We
may make the experiment, but it will not be found productive of the
fruits of righteousness and peace; as the laws of nature forbid us
to calculate on gathering grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles.
Within a few weeks after the death of Mr. Ingleby, the living
of Broadhurst was presented to Mr. Porteous, the grandson of a
neighbouring magistrate of the same name,[41] who took offence at
the first sermon Mr. Ingleby preached; and though he felt a profound
respect for his private virtues, yet he withdrew from his ministry,
and usually attended that of Mr. Cole. This young man possessed a
fine person, and the graces of a popular and commanding elocution;
but he was gay in his manners, volatile in his disposition, addicted
to the sports of the field, and decidedly opposed to those peculiar
doctrines of the gospel which his predecessor had so long and so
faithfully preached.
[41] Vol. i. p. 69.
As his character was generally known through the parish, the pious
members of the Church were deeply depressed when they heard that he
was appointed to succeed their deceased pastor; but they prudently
resolved to hear him preach, having previously met on several
different occasions to pray that a double portion of the Spirit of
grace might rest upon him. The church was excessively crowded when
he delivered his first discourse, which was founded on the following
text--"Be not righteous over much."
He read the prayers with so much seriousness and propriety of
emphasis, that the whole congregation was delighted with him. When
he announced his text, there was a simultaneous movement amongst
them; and for a few moments they looked at each other as though
deeply amazed, and then the eyes of all were fastened on him. After
adjusting his position and his attitude with great caution, and
surveying his audience with an appearance of complacency, he began
reading his sermon, which he delivered in fourteen minutes, and
then concluded the service. The sermon was a severe philippic on
the labours of his predecessor, and the piety of his hearers; and
though in the conclusion he paid a passing tribute of respect to
his private virtues, and the benefits which the parish had received
from his pastoral visits, yet he gave it as his decided opinion
that he had uniformly disregarded the _important_ injunction of the
text:--"That he erred from the purest motives we all must admit;
and it must be some consolation to know, that his error was all on
the side of virtue; but virtue is never so lovely as when she is
kept from all excess of feeling--as when she spurns from her those
restraints, which, by keeping her out of the circle of _innocent_
indulgences, give her the appearance of grief-worn sadness--as when
she enjoys life, and is contented to wait for the reward which the
Almighty will confer on her honest and well-meant endeavours to
please him. That it will be my endeavour to avoid the error into
which my most excellent predecessor fell, my intelligent hearers
may calculate on; and I flatter myself by so doing, I shall diffuse
over the whole of my parish, the air of cheerful gaiety and social
pleasure; and that the gloom which has so long hung over you will
soon disappear, as the lowering cloud retires from the face of
nature, when the bright orb of day scatters his golden rays in
passing from the horizon to the meridian."
When he had finished his discourse, he paused for the loud Amen;
but the good old clerk disdained to utter it; and when, on retiring
to the vestry, he was asked by Mr. Porteous, the grandsire of the
new Rector, why he had neglected his duty, he honestly replied,
"Because, Sir, I did not choose to sanction those perversions of the
gospel which the Rector has been guilty of this morning; nor appear
to commend the severe and unjust animadversions which he has made on
the character of my deceased pastor."
"Then, Sir, you shall be turned out of office."
"I will not wait to be turned out, Sir, I will resign it; for I
have too much love for the truth to sanction error, and hold the
reputation of my deceased pastor in too much esteem to say Amen,
after it has been so wantonly defamed."
"Then, Sir, I suppose you intend to raise the standard of revolt
against my grandson; but if that be your mind, you shall suffer for
it."
"As I live, Sir, in a land of freedom, and was never in bondage
to any man, I shall not, now I am grown gray in years, sell my
birth-right for a mess of pottage; and therefore, without wishing to
give either you or the new Rector any offence, I frankly tell you,
that while he continues to preach as he has preached this morning, I
will never return to hear him."
"You are an obstinate fellow, and ought not to be suffered to speak
to your superiors in this style."
"You asked for the reasons of my conduct, which I have given you;
and also for the line of conduct I intend to pursue, and I have told
you; and now, as you descend to abuse, I will retire."
This altercation with the old clerk, who was greatly esteemed by the
congregation for his superior intelligence and decided piety, was
overheard by many of the people, who were much pleased; first, by
his silence at the conclusion of the service, and now, by the bold
stand which he made against the perversion of the truth, and the
unmerited attack on the reputation of the venerable deceased. On
coming out of the vestry, he was commended by them, and urged not to
suffer any threat to induce him to bend to the authority, which had
so unhandsomely endeavoured to intimidate him.
As Mr. Lewellin had acquired a considerable degree of influence
among the pious members of the Church, during the short time he had
resided in the parish, they very naturally looked to him for counsel
at this critical juncture; and though he was unwilling to take any
premature steps, yet he gave it as his decided opinion, that they
ought not to suffer the gospel to be driven from amongst them. "I am
a Dissenter," said he to a few friends who waited on him; "but while
the gospel was preached in the Church, I felt perfectly willing to
worship there, and should have continued to do so, if the new Rector
had followed the example of our deceased pastor, but as he has
chosen to make such a bold avowal of his determination to extirpate
the serious and devout piety of the parish, that he may propagate
his gay and anti-Christian religion, I think we are called upon by
the voice of Providence to prevent it."
"I cannot leave the Church," said one.
"Nor I," said another.
"Nor I," said a third.
"I should not like to leave it," said another, "but if I cannot hear
the gospel in the Church, I will hear it where I can."
It was finally determined to let things take their course for the
next few weeks, during which time they were to consult their friends
on the question.
On the Sabbath after Mr. Porteous preached his first sermon at
Broadhurst, Mr. Hartley, Mr. Cole's successor, took possession of
his living at Aston, and preached his first discourse from Ezek.
xxxvii. 3--"And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live?
And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest." From these words, taken
in connection with the entire parable, he gave a description of
the moral condition of man, during the period of his unregeneracy;
demonstrated the inefficacy of all human expedients to recover him,
without the co-operation of a supernatural power; and traced the
progress of his spiritual renovation by the renewing power of the
Holy Spirit, from its earliest symptoms to its final consummation in
heaven. The sermon discovered some ingenuity, but more judgment; it
abounded with striking remarks, expressed in the most appropriate
language; but its predominating quality was a regular appeal to the
understanding and the heart of the audience, conducted with such
force of reasoning, and charm of persuasion, that many expressed
their astonishment at their former ignorance of revealed truth;
while those who had long enjoyed the ministry of the venerable
Ingleby, rejoiced that God had sent another faithful messenger
amongst them. Some few, who were the late incumbent's personal
friends, and who often participated with him in the amusements of
fashionable life, were displeased with the _length_ of the sermon,
though they were gratified with the chasteness of the language
which was employed; and reprobated the austere requirements of
the new religion, while they spoke in very complimentary terms of
the elegant composition and the good delivery of the new Rector.
The great majority of the people, however, were astonished and
delighted; and from the conclusion of the sermon were led to
anticipate in Mr. Hartley a very different pastor from Mr. Cole.
"Hitherto, many of you have lived," said the preacher, "without any
deep repentance on account of your sins--without any active and
operative faith in the efficacy of the Saviour's death--without
enjoying any spiritual communion with the great Invisible--and
without anticipating your entrance into the eternal world with that
sublime awe which such an event ought to inspire in your breast. It
devolves on me to rouse you from this state of deep insensibility
and criminal impiety. You live; but what is that life which you
have lived? Has it not been a life of social pleasure--a life of
vain indulgences--a life of indifference to the interesting facts,
the sublime doctrines, the pure precepts, and the glorious promises
of the gospel of Jesus Christ! It now devolves on me to awaken
you, if possible, out of this mental delusion, that you may 'yield
yourselves unto God as those that are alive from the dead;' then
ye 'shall have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting
life.' To accomplish this, I shall add private admonition to public
instruction; and though I have no wish to pry into the secrets of
your families, nor to obtrude myself where my presence would not
be acceptable, yet it will be my endeavour, as far as possible,
to gain an accurate knowledge of the spiritual state of the whole
of my charge, in the hope that by God's blessing I may be able at
the last day to present every one of you perfect in Christ Jesus.
When you are afflicted, I will visit you; when in trouble, I will
administer to you the consolations of the gospel; in your dying
hours, I shall consider it a privilege to be permitted to cheer you
with the hope of immortality; and as I am placed over you as your
spiritual guide and friend, I assure you, that there is no sacrifice
which I will hesitate to make, nor any duty which I will not most
cheerfully perform, to promote your happiness; and I shall esteem
the gratification of serving you an adequate recompense for all my
exertions, as I seek not yours, but you."
A SECESSION AT BROADHURST.
When Mr. Hartley took possession of his cure at Aston, Mr. Stevens
immediately declined having public worship conducted in his chapel
any longer. On being remonstrated with by Mr. Langley, a zealous
Dissenter, for breaking up a society which had been flourishing
for many years, he said, "I dissented, not from choice, but from
necessity; but now I can hear the gospel in the parish church, I
think it no less my duty to return to her communion, than I once
felt it my duty to withdraw from it. The minister who is appointed
over us is a good man; and as the church in which he officiates is
large enough to contain the whole of the population, I see no reason
why the people should be divided, especially as most of them have
no conscientious objections against either the doctrines or the
ceremonies of our Episcopal Establishment."