"REVEREND SIR,--I was not a little delighted and astonished on

Sunday last; I was delighted with your very eloquent manner of

reading our incomparable Liturgy; but I was astonished by the _very

unguarded expressions which you made use of in your sermon_. You

said, if my memory serves me, 'good works have nothing to do with

our salvation--that if we are saved, it must be by faith in Christ

crucified.' _Now, if our good works have nothing to do with our

salvation, shall we not abstain from performing them?_ I need not,

I am sure, to a gentleman of your learning, point out the dangerous

consequences which must result to the interests of morality from

such sentiments; but considering that you have been so much engaged

in attending to the repairs of the church, etc., I can very easily

believe, from your habit of preaching extempore, that you let fall

many expressions which, on mature consideration, you will condemn

as unequivocally as I do. You will excuse the liberty which I have

taken in offering these remarks, _but as the morals of the people

are somewhat under my supervision, I could not remain silent when

I apprehended danger_. Assuring you, Reverend Sir, that I have a

great esteem for the clergy, and, as you are appointed our rector, I

shall be happy to see you at my mansion, and wishing you health and

happiness among us--I am, Reverend Sir, your obedient servant,

"J. P."

Mr. Ingleby's reply:--

"DEAR SIR,--I received yours of the 10th, and I presume that a reply

is expected. I did say, in the course of my sermon, that good works

would never merit the forgiveness of our sins, nor procure for us

a state of final happiness. And I did say that we must be saved,

if we are ever saved, by faith in Jesus Christ. I did state, most

expressly, that the obedience and death of Jesus Christ constitute

the only meritorious cause of our eternal salvation. And if you

read the following passages of Scripture, you will perceive that I

am correct:--'But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss

for Christ. 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' (Phil.

iii. 7-9). 'For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of

yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should

boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good

works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them'

(Ephesians ii. 8-10).

"And, further, if you consult the Eleventh Article of our church

you will find that I advanced no new doctrine:--'We are counted

righteous before God only for the merit of our Lord and Saviour

Jesus Christ, by faith, and not by our own works or deservings:

wherefore, that we are justified by faith only is a most wholesome

doctrine, and very full of comfort, as more largely is expressed in

the _Homily of Justification_.'

"When these doctrines are preached with simplicity and earnestness

among a people who have not been accustomed to hear them, it is no

unusual thing for some to imagine that they will be followed by

the most dangerous results; but if you will only wait to see their

practical influence, you will be convinced that they will _incline_,

as well as teach men, to 'deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and

to live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world.'

Assuring you that I am not offended by your free communication,

and that I shall be happy to avail myself of your very friendly

invitation--I am, yours truly,

"J. I."

The church, which in former times had been almost "as drear as

the mansions of the dead," was now crowded to excess; the people

flocked to it from all the adjacent parishes, and many, who came to

scoff, returned to pray. A visible change soon took place in their

habits; the drunkard became sober, the Sabbath-breaker visited the

house of prayer, the village games were exchanged for the hallowed

exercises of devotion, and the moral desert displayed the beauties

of holiness. When it was found that these effects were the result

of his ministry, though the spirit of scepticism, which often lurks

under a profession of religion, could not be conciliated, yet its

open hostility ceased, and the amiable and zealous rector was

allowed to pursue the even tenor of his way, beloved by the pious,

and respected by the profane.

But he was not more attentive to the duties of his office than to

the virtues of his private character. What he enforced on others,

he himself practised; what he inculcated from the pulpit, he

exemplified in his family. There religion unfolded her sweetest

charms, and sent forth an influence which operated with resistless

force on every inmate in his house; and as his wife was endowed

with an unusual share of prudence, she became indeed an help

meet for him. She involved him in no pecuniary embarrassments

by the extravagance of her habits; occasioned no discord by the

officiousness or bitterness of her temper; but by managing his

temporal affairs with discretion, left him more at liberty to devote

himself to the duties of his sacred avocation.

The rector of Broadhurst was instant in season and out of season,

serving the Lord, and his labours were blessed in the conversion

of not a few of his parishioners. His earnestness in the work of

the ministry, his evangelical preaching, and his popularity with

the common people, stirred up the jealousy and opposition of the

neighbouring clergy, who were preachers of morality, but not of

the gospel. Some of them even went so far as to denounce him from

the pulpit as a fanatical devotee, who was disturbing the peace of

society, and ought to be expelled from the church.

None were more severe in their remarks, or more determined in

their opposition, than the Rev. Mr. Guion, the rector of Norton.

This clergyman had passed through the University of Oxford with

great _eclat_, was a most accomplished scholar, possessed of a very

superior understanding, an admirer of polite literature in all its

branches, and inherited a large fortune which his father bequeathed

him; but when he entered on the discharge of his sacred functions

he was an entire stranger _to the power of vital religion_. His

zeal for the church burnt with an ardent, if not a pure flame,

which led him to look with supercilious contempt on all whom he

deemed innovators; his reverence for the consistency of the clerical

character preserved him from the vices and follies in which too many

indulge; and the independent tone of his mind induced him to compose

his own discourses, rather than read those which were composed by

others. By the rich he was admired for the elegance of his manners,

by the intelligent for the extent and variety of his knowledge, and

by the poor for his profuse benevolence. On his settlement at Norton

he called on Mr. Ingleby, but finding that he was (what the world

calls) a Methodist, he declined an intimacy, and they rarely met,

except on public occasions.

Mr. Ingleby having been appointed to preach a visitation sermon,

Mr. Guion and several other clergymen amused themselves with the

prospect of hearing an enthusiastic and unintelligible discourse.

He chose his text from Isaiah lii. 11: "Be ye clean that bear the

vessels of the Lord." After a few introductory remarks, he said that

the ministers of religion ought to be men of piety towards God, and

of purity in the sight of men; and as they are intrusted with the

truths of revelation, they ought to proclaim them with impassioned

ardour. Having been favoured with a sight of this manuscript sermon,

I have taken a few extracts from it:--

"As, my brethren, the ulterior design of our public ministry is

to recover sinners from their apostasy from God, into a state of

fellowship with him, ought we not ourselves to live in an habitual

contemplation of his excellencies, and in the exercise of spiritual

communion with him? Ought we not to rise above the mere forms and

ceremonies of devotion, into that immediate intercourse with the

Holy One which the Scriptures describe by the appropriate phrase of

'walking with God?' May we not fairly presume that such an hallowed

exercise will have a most material influence in inducing within us

that pure and ardent spirit of devotion, without which the duties

of our sacred profession will be discharged in a cold, formal,

and unimpressive manner? And can we expect to shed the lustre of

piety around us unless we are imbued with its spirit, by a constant

association with Him who alone can infuse it into the mind, and keep

it from a state of relaxation and decay?

"It has been remarked that the copy which the rest of mankind write

after should be remarkably correct. Hence the exhortation which St.

Paul addressed to Timothy is strictly applicable to each of us:

'Be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation,

in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity' (1 Tim. iv. 12).

The apology which has sometimes been offered for ministerial

irregularity cannot be admitted--'Do as we say, but not as we do;'

for is not example more powerful than precept? If the priest be

profane, will not the people abhor the sacrifice? If we addict

ourselves to the vices of the age, can we warn the people against

them with any hope of success? If we follow the amusements and

diversions of this world, will they believe that we are in earnest

when we exhort them to abstain _from the appearance of evil_? If we

secularize our habits, enter with spirit into the intrigues of the

politician, and discover a restless ambition to reach the summit of

human fame, will they give us credit for being sincere, if we exhort

them, as we ought to do, _to set their affections on things above,

and not on things on the earth_?

"In the discharge of your public functions, I would recommend you

to press upon the attention of your hearers those truths which

belong to the great scheme of redemption, the lost and helpless

state of man, salvation by the free grace of God, justification and

acceptance through the righteousness of Jesus Christ, the necessity

of the new birth, and of the enlightening and purifying operations

of the Holy Ghost. These doctrines, which are expressed with so

much clearness in the Articles of our church, are the essence and

glory of that gospel which we are commissioned to preach; and though

they are rejected by many as the corruptions of Christianity, yet I

presume that you will contend for them as the faith which you are to

deliver for the conversion of sinners and the edification of saints.

If these truths are rejected because they are evangelical, and the

more fashionable doctrine of a sincere though imperfect obedience,

combined with a submission to a prescribed formula of religion,

which leaves the heart unrenewed, be substituted in their room, we

may gain the applause of those who trust in themselves that they

are righteous, but we shall be guilty of an awful departure from

the spirit and the design of our commission, and justly incur the

displeasure of Jesus Christ.

"To conclude: the hour is rapidly approaching when we, who are

appointed as the stewards of the mysteries of the kingdom, shall be

summoned into the presence of our invisible Lord, to give an account

of our stewardship, when the motives which induced us to take upon

ourselves the priest's office and which induced us to retain it, the

manner in which we have spent our time, employed our influence and

our wealth, and conducted the public solemnities of religion, will

undergo a close and a severe investigation; and if we, the ministers

of the sanctuary, should, when weighed in the balance, be found

wanting, how awful will be our doom! Ezek. xxiii. 7, 8.

"Happy, thrice happy that minister who, amidst all his infirmities,

will be able to give up his account with joy; but woe, woe, woe to

us if we be found unfaithful!"

This sermon produced a very considerable effect on the audience,

but no one was more deeply affected by it than Mr. Guion. He

listened with profound attention, and though he mustered all his

prejudices against the preacher, and endeavoured to avoid the force

of his solemn appeals, yet he was _not able to resist the wisdom

and the spirit by which he spake_. After the service was concluded

he retired to meditate on what he had heard, but his mind was too

deeply wounded to admit of calm meditation. His personal guilt,

his danger, his ministerial infidelity, his dishonoured Lord, the

future judgment passed in review before his mind, greatly agitating

his feelings; and being unconscious of the immediate cause and

design of this extraordinary mental excitement, he knew not where

to obtain relief. As the Sabbath approached he attempted, as usual,

to compose a sermon, but after poring over the text on which he had

fixed, he abandoned it, because he could not understand it. He then

selected another, then another, then another, till, in despair, he

resolved that he would not make a fresh effort till his mind was

more composed. "I'll preach," said he, "an old sermon," but he could

not find one that he could preach. At length he took a volume of

sermons from off one of the shelves of his library, and seeing one

on these words, "Turn you to the stronghold, ye prisoners of hope:

even to-day do I declare that I will render double unto thee" (Zech.

ix. 12), he transcribed it. The following paragraph, when he read

it from the pulpit, darted a ray of light across his mind, but he

was not then able to discover the truth which it so beautifully

exhibits: "You who are lying in the prison of an unconverted state,

come hither to this sanctuary, whose gates stand open to receive

you. 'It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that

Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.' He hath shed that

blood which 'cleanseth from all sin,' and hath sealed that gracious

and well-ordered covenant which offers pardon and eternal life to

every penitent believing sinner. And now all things are ready for

your reception; the Father is ready to embrace you, Christ is ready

to wash you in his blood, the Spirit is ready to heal your diseased

natures, angels are ready to rejoice at your return, and we, as the

servants of this King of Zion, are ready to welcome you into this

family of God, and do now exhort you, and pray you, in Christ's

stead, 'to flee for refuge, to lay hold on the hope set before you.'"

On the next Tuesday he rode over to Broadhurst, and heard Mr.

Ingleby preach his evening lecture, but contrived to return without

being seen. He now felt conscious that Mr. Ingleby was qualified

to become his religious instructor, and therefore resolved to

open a correspondence with him, which he did by writing to him as

follows:--

"REV. AND DEAR SIR,--The sermon which I had the honour of hearing

you deliver at your visitation, has made such a deep impression on

my mind, that I have been uneasy ever since. It has stripped me of

all my imaginary excellence, destroyed the foundation on which I was

building my hope of future happiness, convinced me of my personal

guilt and degeneracy, rendered me unfit to discharge the functions

of my sacred office, and thrown my feelings into such a perturbed

state, that I know not how to calm them, nor how to bear up under

them. As you have been the means of inflicting the wound, probably

you can administer some consolation; and, if you will permit me, I

will ride over and avail myself of the honour and felicity of an

interview. A reply by the bearer will greatly oblige, yours truly,

"OLIVER GUION."

The interview took place as proposed, and from that hour to the

present, these two laborious ministers of Jesus Christ have lived in

the uninterrupted enjoyment of Christian fellowship, animating each

other in their sacred work, and, by uniting their influence, have

succeeded in diffusing the leaven of truth through the greater part

of their extensive parishes.

A VISIT TO THE RECTORY.

We reached the rectory early in the afternoon, and found the

venerable rector waiting our arrival. There was, in the manner and

style of our reception, a fine blending of dignity with kind and

benevolent feeling. In his person he was tall and slender, about

sixty years of age; his silver locks fell in curls on his shoulders;

in his countenance there was a marked expression of benignity; and

his whole appearance was in keeping with his sacred profession.

Mrs. Ingleby was equally free and easy in her manners, but she

was rather reserved; yet it was the reserve of constitutional

timidity--_hauteur_ was alien to her nature. After tarrying awhile,

examining his cabinet of natural curiosities, selected and arranged

with taste and judgment, we adjourned to the moss-house at the

bottom of the garden, which he had, with his own hand, constructed

and adorned. It stood on an eminence, which commanded a varied

and extensive view, while the trees and shrubs which grew around

screened us from the observation of others. The sun, which had been

pouring down his scorching beams during the greater part of the

day, was now gradually descending the western horizon, gilding the

heavens and the earth with his rays. The birds were warbling their

evening songs of praise to the Author of their being; the bees were

pressing into their hives with the collected stores of the day; the

plaintive voice of the turtle-dove fell softly on our ear, which,

intermingling with the occasional cawing of the rooks, returning to

their young with the fruits of their toil, gave to the evening a

charm which the crowded haunts of fashionable life never possessed.

As we sat, enjoying the interchange of sacred thought and feeling,

almost forgetting that we were inhabitants of a world which had

fallen from an original state of purity and bliss, I observed an

interesting-looking stranger advancing towards us; and was informed

that it was the Rev. Mr. Guion, of whom I had previously heard.

Mr. Guion apologized for not being punctual, and informed us

that the fall of his horse was the cause of it. He was welcomed

by the whole party, and congratulated on his having sustained no

injury. Mrs. Ingleby, of course, presided at the tea-table; she was

elegantly polite, yet so affable that we felt at perfect ease; and

every one appeared to enjoy the desultory chit-chat, which was kept

up with great spirit. At length, when the tea-drinking ceremony was

over, _conversation_ commenced, according to our uniform custom,

and, to the astonishment of all, Mrs. Ingleby led off; yet I think

it was more by accident than design.

"Strange events happen in the history of life; but I have been

thinking, while attending to the ceremonies of the table, that if an

old prophet of Israel had been with us when we took our first cup of

tea in this moss-house, and if he had predicted that we should live

to see the present company with us, I should have doubted it."

"Our presence, Madam," said Mr. Stevens, "may be attributed to the

moral power of the Christian ministry; that ministry being the

instrument in the hands of the Spirit of God, by which he effects

moral wonders."

"I had no idea," said Mr. Guion, "when I was going to hear the

visitation sermon at Salisbury, that I should come into contact

with any other power than the rhapsodies of evangelical enthusiasm.

Several of us were highly amused in anticipation of witnessing some

strange outbursts of fanatical sentiment and feeling, uttered in

some grotesque terms of enunciation. But my venerable friend had not

proceeded far in his discourse before I felt compelled to listen

with profound attention; what he said was new to me, it went to my

heart; I was not able, nor yet inclined, to resist the wisdom and

the spirit by which he spake."

"And pray, Sir," said Mr. Lewellin, "what was the direct effect

which the sermon produced?"

"The effect, at the time, was an undefinable effect. I recollect,

when I left the church, and I contrived to leave it without

intermixing with any of my brother clergymen, I retired to meditate

on what I had heard, but my mind was too deeply agitated to admit

of calm meditation. My personal guilt, my spiritual danger, my

ministerial unfaithfulness to my dishonoured Lord, and the future

judgment, alternately convulsed my feelings; and being unconscious

at the time of the immediate cause or ultimate design of this

extraordinary mental excitement, I knew not what to do to regain my

accustomed composure. I could neither read nor pray. I wandered hour

after hour to and fro, in a lonely glen; I was in a fearful tumult

of anxiety and agony of spirit.

"The gospel," said Mr. Ingleby, "is designated the power of God

to salvation, and when it comes to the soul dead in trespasses

and sins, in the demonstrative power of the Spirit, its great

power is felt; felt to be subduing, at times agonizing, and always

renovating. The issue is certain and glorious, its operations are

the necessary preparations for eternal salvation."

"I believe," said Mr. Lewellin, "you have not many evangelical

clergymen in these parts."

"Not many, Sir; the generality of our clergy are very excellent men,

who mean well, but they are not spiritually enlightened men; and,

unhappily for themselves and others, this is their great fault, they

put a Papal construction on the import and design of our sacraments,

and virtually repudiate the articles to which they have given a

solemn assent and consent. My nearest brother clergyman is Mr. Cole,

the rector of Aston; he is decidedly and avowedly anti-evangelical;

he denounces us as a living curse to our church, and a disgrace

to our order; but he is a gay man of the world, will shuffle the

cards, dance at a ball, and visit a theatre, without any sense of

impropriety; he rather glories in his shame."

"Their dependence for success in their official labours," said

Mr. Lewellin, "is on the efficacy of the sacraments, and they

may be regarded as magicians of a new order, operating on their

deluded devotees by a sort of spiritual legerdemain; contrasts to

the faithful in Christ Jesus, who execute the ministry which they

receive of the Lord Jesus under the sanction and power of the Holy

Ghost; and contrasts as great as between demons and angels of God."

"The Christian ministry," said Mr. Ingleby, "is a life-giving

ministry, and a ministry of great moral power, when it is

faithfully executed. It is an institution peculiar to Christianity,

and admirably adapted to advance the improvement and happiness

of society. Paganism wraps up the mysteries of her pretended

revelations in the folds of an hieroglyphical device, Mahometanism

discourages the people from prying into her origin, and Popery

confines the light of revelation within the archives of her temple;

but Christianity presents the Sacred Volume to the poor as well

as to the rich; to the ignorant as well as to the learned; and

by appointing men to explain and enforce the truth, secures the

attention of the multitude, who find that it still pleases God, by

the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe."

"Yes, Sir," replied Mr. Guion, "but if the ministry throw into the

shade the peculiar doctrines of the gospel, it ought not to be

called a _Christian ministry_. I preached for the space of four

years, and thought I preached well. I took great pains with the

composition of my sermons, but I did not preach the doctrine of

salvation by grace through faith. The few who attended my ministry

were pleased, but none were converted; and I never heard any of them

make the subject of my sermon the topic of conversation, except

when I indulged myself in a satirical attack on the fanatics in the

church and the fanatics out of it."

"I presume," said Mr. Stevens, "that you had no conception, when

you were satirizing the fanatics, as you termed them, that you were

satirizing those who contend earnestly for the faith."

"O no, Sir! I was ignorant of their sentiments, and my prejudices

kept me ignorant. I would not read any of their productions. I

often said that they ought to be driven out of the Establishment,

because I thought they were secretly undermining its foundation,

and, if allowed to grow into a formidable body, might endanger its

existence."

"Did you wish to crush them?" said Mr. Lewellin.

"O no; I would have tolerated them as we tolerate the Dissenters,

but I would not allow them to disturb the harmony of the church."

"Did you ever think, Sir, of the awful responsibility in which your

profession involved you?"

The Sheepfold and the Common; Or, Within and Without. Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 6 / 50 段