After tea our conversation turned on the rise, progress, and character of Methodism, when the Rev. Mr. Roscoe gave it as his unqualified opinion, that its introduction into this kingdom was no less fatal to the honour and harmony of the church, than the irruptions of the Goths and Vandals from the trackless deserts of the North, were to the literature and sovereignty of the Roman empire. "It came," he observed, "at a period when no danger was apprehended; and from the meanness of its appearance, and its entire want of the attractions of intelligence or of taste, no one could calculate on its exciting that commotion, or acquiring that degree of influence over the popular mind, which its history records, and which we all ought deeply to deplore. To extirpate this fatal heresy, or to arrest it in its destructive course, I fear is now impossible; but we ought certainly to be on our guard, lest we should accelerate its march, either by that supineness which neglects to defend the passes, or that neutrality which looks with indifference on the conquests of an enemy, if he leaves us in the undisturbed possession of our own little territory. Though you cannot agree with the Rev. Mr. Cole in his opinions on baptismal regeneration, I think you must agree with him in his remarks on the preposterous conversions which are the boast of our modern fanatics. Indeed, what man of learning or of taste can read the periodical journals of enthusiasm without feeling disgusted, and if he were not thoroughly established in his belief of the Divine origin of our holy religion, he must, I think, become a sceptic."

Mr. Roscoe.—"Men of learning and of taste, with some few honourable exceptions, very rarely discover any strong attachment for the humiliating doctrines or the self-denying precepts of that holy religion, whose Divine origin they professedly admit. The religion which they admire is not the religion of the Scriptures, but one modified and adapted to their taste and propensities. Would the poets or prose writers of modern times, who praise, in harmonious numbers or well-turned periods, the religion of their country, welcome that religion if she were to disengage herself from the attractions of the mitre, and the associations of sacred altars and antique buildings, and rise up before them in the simplicity of her attire, and, with an authoritative voice, as when she first despoiled Greece and Rome of their elegant mythology, demanding from them repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ? If she were to speak to them of sin, of their sins, she would excite the smile of ridicule; if she were to urge on them the necessity of repentance, lest they perish, she would provoke their contempt; and if she were to require from them that faith in the Lord Jesus Christ which by its own reaction purifies and ennobles the human soul, she would be despised and rejected, no less than the enthusiasm of Methodism. But though the Rev. Mr. Cole reprobated, in very strong terms, the preposterous conversions of the fanatics of modern times, he did not, I believe, deny the necessity of conversion, nor say that it was impossible."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"O no, he gave us the following quotation from the excellent and judicious tract[14] which the justly celebrated Dr. Mant has published on the question: 'Conversion, according to our notions, may not improperly be said to consist of a rational conviction of sin, and sense of its wickedness and danger; of a sincere penitence and sorrow of heart at having incurred the displeasure of a holy God; of steadfast purposes of amendment with the blessing of the Divine grace; of a regular and diligent employment of all the appointed means of grace; and of a real change of heart and life, of affections and conduct, and a resolute perseverance in well-doing.' And I may quote the next paragraph from this judicious tract, which says, 'The triumph of such conversion as this is not attended by alternations of extreme joy and despondency, of the most ecstatic rapture and the most gloomy despair; sometimes by heavenly exultation, and sometimes by the agonies of hell. It has little of what is brilliant and dazzling to decorate, little of what is magnificent and imposing to dignify and exalt it.'"

Mr. Roscoe.—"When I first read that tract, I very much admired it, and I have circulated many hundreds, thinking that it would check the progress of evangelical sentiments; but, on a recent perusal of it, I felt much astonished when I recollected the satisfaction and the pleasure which it once afforded me; and I fear that, by giving it circulation, I have assisted in perpetuating the delusion under which such a large proportion of all ranks in society are advancing to the eternal world. I certainly do not object to his definition of conversion; but the highly-wrought reflections which you have just quoted, are, in my opinion, an impeachment of the accuracy of his reasoning and of the fervour of his piety. If they have any meaning, they are intended to prove that the gentle excitement of the passions constitutes a legitimate evidence of conversion; but if the passions should be strongly excited—if they should overflow, and dare to wet the couch of a penitent with the fast-dropping tear—if they should touch on the borders of the joy which is unspeakable and full of glory—or if they ever should sink into despondency, or rise to a hope full of immortality, then they change their character, and become, not the evidences of conversion, but of fanaticism. I object to such a statement as unphilosophical, and calculated to produce the very evil it is intended to prevent. Two men, whose mental temperament varies from cool apathy to the highest degree of a nervous sensibility, may sincerely repent of having, by their sins, incurred the displeasure of God; but to suppose, with Dr. Mant, that they will both feel in the same exact proportion, and that proportion the lowest possible degree of excitement, would be to betray consummate ignorance of the constitution of the human mind. These two men, who feel a degree of sorrow for sin, and of joy for the promise of forgiveness, that accords with the exact susceptibility of their nature, are placed by the judicious Dr. Mant in very opposite columns—the one amongst the sincere penitents, the other amongst the deluded fanatics. But this is not the only absurdity which such a classification involves; for it necessarily tends to plunge the man of strong passions into despair, because he feels too acutely, while it keeps the man of more moderate passions in a state of uncertainty, lest he should not have felt quite enough."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"But will you not admit that the annals of Methodism record many instances of extravagant feeling, which neither a reference to the varying temperament of the mind, nor the sober language of Holy Writ, will account for or justify; such as extremes of weeping and of laughter, sobs, and shrieks, and groans, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth—the voice now stifled by agony, and now bursting forth in tones of despair; tremors, and faintings, and droppings to the ground, as if struck by lightning; paleness and torpor, convulsions and contortions; things terrible to behold, too terrible to be borne, and which words cannot describe. Can you suppose that such scenes are the effect of Divine truth producing a rational conviction of sin, and a keen sense of its wickedness and danger? are they not rather the consequences of fanaticism?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"The symptoms which you have enumerated are sometimes apparent, I have no doubt, even when the heart is untouched by the subduing power of the grace of God, and may be referred to the strong excitement of the animal passions, when stirred up from their dormant state by the impassioned eloquence of the preacher; but at other times we may regard them as the visible and audible signs of a genuine conversion to God, the utterances of a soul at the period of its new birth, when in the act of passing from death to life. And though I should prefer the truth being felt and received into the heart in the calm of composed and silent listening, yet I would rather see an entire congregation bathed in tears, sobbing, and even groaning aloud, while their minister is addressing them on the sublime and awful realities of the eternal world, than witness that apathetic indifference which is so generally apparent—a listlessness which is something like a judicial insensibility."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"I admit that there is too much apparent indifference in our congregations to the sermons of the clergy; but there may be a strong undercurrent of emotion, even when there are no floods. But to revert to what I call the extravagant symptoms of feeling in connection with Methodism, the line of distinction which you have drawn between the causes to which we may refer them may be substantially correct; but I presume you do not intend to maintain that they are ever, even in the most sober and modified degree, the necessary accompaniments of conversion?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"No, certainly not; but if there be sorrow in the heart for having incurred the displeasure of a holy God, ought we to be surprised if the eye be suffused with tears? and if there be a rational conviction of the danger to which the commission of sin exposes us, ought we to be surprised if the breast heave with tumultuous swellings of alarm and dread? Shall an apprehension of deserved wrath awaken no terror? or a hope of redeeming love inspire no joy? Why, a man must be metamorphosed into some other being, not to have his passions stirred, from the very depth of his soul, when such awful and transporting scenes are passing before his mental vision."

Mr. Stevens.—"I am astonished that any clergyman should condemn the strong and visible excitement of the passions at the period of conversion, when there are so many passages in the Scriptures which attest it. The writer of the book of Proverbs says, 'The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear?' And if a deep wound be inflicted on the soul of man, which he is incapable of healing or of enduring, shall we turn round upon him and aggravate the intensity of his anguish, by employing the strong symptoms of his grief as evidences either of insanity or fanaticism? The impiety of such an act would be no less censurable than its cruelty. And does not the prophet tell us that when the Spirit of grace is poured out on the inhabitants of Jerusalem, that 'they shall look upon him whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his first-born.' This prediction was fulfilled when the three thousand were pricked in their heart, and cried out at the close of Peter's address, Men and brethren, what shall we do? And shall the charge of fanatical extravagance and delusion be brought against these primitive converts, because they cried out, and asked aloud, in the hearing of all the people, what they should do to escape from the wrath they had deserved?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Mr. Cole admitted that the penitents in former times were sometimes extravagantly affected, because their conversion was miraculous, but he maintained, and I think very satisfactorily, that there are no instantaneous conversions in modern times—the thing is impossible. If you recollect, he proved that the instantaneous conversions recorded in the Scriptures were effected by the force of miracles, but as these have ceased, men must be wrought on now by the more slow process of argument and persuasion; and he supported his opinion by the following quotation from Dr. Mant: 'When the conversion was sudden or instantaneous, it was the consequence of miraculous evidence to the truth. When the preaching of Peter on the day of Pentecost added to the church three thousand souls, they were men who had been amazed and confounded by the effusion of the Holy Ghost, and the supernatural gift of tongues.'"

Mr. Roscoe.—"Yes, they were confounded and amazed when they heard the apostles speaking in different languages, but this miracle, so far from effecting their conversion, merely excited the ridicule of many, who, mocking, said, 'These men are full of new wine.' But after they had listened to Peter's discourse, they were 'pricked in their heart, and then said unto Peter, and to the rest of the apostles, men and brethren, what shall we do?' Miracles attested the Divine mission of the apostles, but it was the truth which the apostles preached that became the means of the conversion of the people. And though the miraculous evidences of the apostolic commission have ceased, because they are no longer necessary, yet the truth, which is the instrument of conversion, is preserved pure and entire; and when it is faithfully and energetically preached, it is still the power of God to salvation. Shall we say that he, who has all power in heaven and earth, cannot, if he please, effect the conversion of sinners as suddenly in the present day as in the times of the apostles."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"If you recollect, he quoted Dr. Mant to prove the possibility of such sudden conversions. 'Not that I would be understood to assert that Providence may not, perhaps, even in the present day, be sometimes pleased to interpose in a manner more awful and impressive than is agreeable to the ordinary course of his proceedings, and to arrest the sinner in his career of infidelity or wickedness, and to turn him from darkness to light.' What he maintained was, that these sudden conversions are not to be expected by the clergy who preach to Christian congregations, which are composed of those who have been trained up in the belief of Christianity."

Mr. Roscoe.—"I have no doubt that many who have been trained up in the belief of Christianity have, in the process of their training, felt its moral influence in producing repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, though they may not know the time when they first felt its power in enlightening and renewing them, or when they passed from death unto life. The whole process of their conversion has been conducted so silently and so gradually—they have been led on by such imperceptible steps from one degree of knowledge and of grace to another, and it has been with so much hesitating precaution that they have embraced the consolatory promises of mercy—that they have erected no monumental pillars to commemorate any great moral revolution in their character, nor placed any sacred landmarks by which their progress in the life of faith can be traced. But are your congregations composed exclusively of this description of hearers? No; you may sometimes see all the varieties of the human character sitting around you when you are in the pulpit; the Sabbath-breaker, the swearer, the debauchee, the seducer, the scoffer, and the mere formalist in religion. Must not these persons be converted before they can enter the kingdom of heaven? And how is their conversion to be effected? You employ your arguments to convince them of the Divine origin of Christianity, and they are convinced of it, but still go on in a course of sin. You employ the force of moral suasion to induce them to turn from iniquity to righteousness, but such is the fatal obduracy of their hearts, that it makes no impression. What can you do now to insure success?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Why, if people will not be converted by argument or persuasion, they must take the consequences upon themselves. I don't know anything more that can be done. We must leave them to take their own course, and if they perish, we can't help it. They doom themselves to perdition."

Mr. Roscoe.—"But if you read the New Testament with close attention, you will perceive that there is a power associated with a faithful and enlightened ministry, which makes it not the letter of instruction merely, but the spirit which giveth life. Did not the Saviour, when he gave the apostles their commission, say, 'Lo I am with you always, even to the end of the world?' Is it not to his immediate presence with the first preachers of the gospel, that the sacred historian everywhere ascribes the signal success which crowned their labours, and not to the force of miracles? If a great multitude at Antioch turned to the Lord, it was because the hand of the Lord was with them; if Lydia believed in consequence of giving attention to the things which were spoken, it was because the Lord opened her heart; if Paul planted, and Apollos watered with success, it was the Lord who gave the increase; and highly as they were endowed, they did not presume to rely on the efficacy of their own addresses, or the force of the miraculous attestations of their own mission, but confessed that it was through God that they became mighty and triumphant in all their ministerial labours. If, then, his presence is associated with a faithful ministry, and the apostles invariably ascribed their success to the concurring testimony of his power, and if he promise to be with his ministers through every succeeding age, ought you to overlook it? Will you boast of your uninterrupted succession in the ministerial office from the times of the apostles, while you undervalue the importance of the presence of the Lord to give success to your official labours? or do you suppose that now Christianity is grown venerable by her age, she can turn men from darkness to light—from the power of Satan to God—without the concurring testimony of that Almighty power on which she relied in the days of her youthful vigour?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"These quotations and references undoubtedly prove that our Saviour must give the success to our ministry; but I think it would be very injudicious to state such a fact to our congregations."

Mr. Roscoe.—"Why so?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Because it would lower the clergy in their estimation if we were to say that we are not invested with a plenitude of power to accomplish the design of our appointment, and might lead the people to wait for a miraculous conversion, instead of trying for it in the regularly appointed way."

Mr. Roscoe.—"Then you must admit that the writers of the Scriptures, who wrote under the plenary inspiration of the Holy Spirit, acted a very injudicious part, and have set us a very improper example, as they have placed the fact of their personal insufficiency, and their entire dependence on their invisible Lord, in a prominent point of view. Indeed, the consequences of such an admission would be alarming, as in that case we should be compelled to pass a censure on the wisdom of the Divine Spirit for allowing such facts to be placed on record, if they are calculated to produce a pernicious effect on the popular mind. It is evident to me, from your last remarks, that you, in common with all the clergy of the anti-evangelical school, have imbibed some very fatal errors, which must render your ministrations worse than useless; must, in fact, render them pernicious, because deceptive, both to yourselves and to your people."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"And do you really think so? This certainly is a very grave imputation on our order, and one which ought not to be advanced unless you can maintain its correctness, with an array of very clear evidence. Why, you now insinuate that we are self-deceived, and are deceiving others. What proof can you bring of this?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"Your first error, and it is a capital one, is the self-sufficiency of the clergy to accomplish the design of their appointment. This may be true, if we view them merely as appointed by human authority to conduct a prescribed service and administer the sacraments. This you can do. But the more spiritual functions of the ministry you cannot perform by virtue of a self-sufficient power."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"To what spiritual functions do you refer?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"Why, to the conversion and spiritual renovation of sinners, and the administration of effective consolation to a wounded spirit. If any order of ministers, under the Christian dispensation, ever possessed the power of doing this, we must admit that the apostles of our Lord possessed it in a pre-eminent degree. But they disclaimed the possession of such a self-sufficient power, and acknowledged their absolute dependence on the concurring grace of God, and the fervent and effectual prayers of their pious lay brethren. The apostle Paul, when trying to allay the ferment which the spirit of contention had raised in the church of Corinth, and to detach the people from the popular idols of their admiration and confidence, speaks out boldly and explicitly on the question of ministerial insufficiency and dependence: 'For while one saith, I am of Paul; and another, I am of Apollos; are ye not carnal? Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed, even as the Lord gave to every man? I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase. So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase' (1 Cor. iii. 4-7). We know that opinion has a powerful influence in the formation and development of character, and in no order of men does it operate with more direct and constant force than on the clergy; hence, if a clergyman thinks he is invested with a plenitude of power to accomplish the design of his appointment, he will live in a state of comparative, if not absolute independence of God: he will not be a man of prayer; I mean, he will not wrestle in prayer with God, to render his public ministry successful in the conversion of sinners; such a thing will not come into his mind. He thinks of himself more as a priest in the church, than as a minister of Christ, labouring for the spiritual good of the people. His self-sufficiency, which keeps him independent of God, tends to inflate him with spiritual pride; he becomes arrogant, and expects that the people will place themselves in submissive subjection to his authority—believe what he dictates, and celebrate what he prescribes. But when, like Paul and the rest of the apostles, a clergyman has a piercing conviction of his insufficiency to execute the trust committed to his charge, he will never enter a pulpit to preach till he has been in his closet with God—praying for assistance from him, and for the putting forth of his Divine power, through the medium of his otherwise ineffective agency. His opinion of himself, his feelings, and his retired devout exercises, all harmonize with the following quotation, which I will now read to you: 'Forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God; not in tables of stone, but in fleshly tables of the heart. Who also hath made us able ministers of the new testament; not of the letter, but of the spirit: for the letter killeth but the spirit giveth life' (2 Cor. iii. 3, 6). And while such a clergyman will depend on God for the success of his labours, rather than on any conceived self-sufficiency, he will also, in imitation of the apostles, place a subordinate degree of dependence on the fervent prayers of his believing brethren. 'Finally, brethren,' says Paul, who could work miracles to attest the Divine origin of the message he delivered to the people, 'pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified, even as it is with you' (2 Thess. iii. 1)."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"And what is the second error which you think we hold?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"Why, you teach the people to depend on you for spiritual blessings, instead of directing them to look to God, from whom cometh every good gift, and every perfect gift; hence, they come to church, go through the order of the service, and withdraw when it is over, more like self-moving machines, whose movements are regulated by laws imposed on them by human skill and authority, than like intelligent beings, who feel their responsibility to God, and their dependence on him. And this is the great practical evil which is inflicted on the people, by the clergy assuming to themselves a sufficiency of power to accomplish all the purposes of their ministry—their hearers are not a praying people. Now, to me nothing is more obvious, if I take the meaning of the uniform language of the Bible, than this great important fact, that prayer on the part of a minister and his hearers, is made essential to their spiritual prosperity and happiness. Hence, after the promise of a new spirit and a new heart was given, to excite the eager expectation of the people of Israel: 'Thus saith the Lord God, I will yet for this be inquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them' (Ezek. xxxvi. 37). Hence the importance and necessity of prayer. Can we expect forgiveness unless we pray for it? and is not the moral renovation of our nature of equal importance? and if, in the economy of salvation, we are to be sanctified by the Spirit of God as well as justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, are we to be reprobated as deluded when we invoke his purifying agency? Let us look around us, and what shall we see? What!—a scene not less affecting than that which struck the eye of the prophet when he received his commission from above to enter the mystic valley of death. It was full of bones: 'And, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.' He was asked, 'Can these dry bones live?' and he answered, 'O Lord God, thou knowest.' What did he do? He prophesied as he was commanded; and when thus engaged, the Spirit of the Lord came upon them, and they lived. If, then, the ministers of grace wish to accomplish the great moral design of their appointment, and acquire the deathless honour of rescuing sinners from that state of guilt, degeneracy, and misery in which they are involved, let them preach the gospel in a clear and in a faithful manner, teaching them that every good thought, every holy desire, every sacred principle, must proceed directly from the Father of mercies, and God of all grace; and that, while they are employed as his servants, in administering the revelation of his will, if any good results from their labours, it must be in answer to the humble and fervent prayers of those who proclaim and those who hear the truth."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"The clergy have fallen very low in your estimation."

Mr. Roscoe.—"The Tractarian clergy have. They sink themselves by their arrogance, and lofty assumptions of official dignity and power; they are haughty and overbearing, and have no resemblance in their spirit, or in their style of speech, to the prophets of the Old Testament or the apostles of the New; and if not an importation from Rome, they are in training to serve at her altars, and advocate her assumed infallibility."

THE TENDENCY OF EVANGELICAL PREACHING.

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"I wonder how you can object to the strictures which the Rev. Mr. Cole made in his sermon last Sunday, on the censurable conduct of those clergymen who declaim against good works, and exalt a dogmatic belief in certain crude opinions as the only necessary condition on which sinners can obtain the forgiveness of Almighty God."

Mr. Roscoe.—"As I have not been in the habit of hearing many of the evangelical clergy preach, I certainly cannot say from my own personal knowledge how far the charge which you allege against them is just or unfounded. If they do declaim against good works, they are guilty of a serious dereliction of duty, and should not receive the sanction of any wise or good man. I agree with you, that this is not the age in which virtue, in any of her forms or requirements, should be made light of, especially by those who are professedly her ministers. For if they, who ought to stop up the passes to evil, turn their weapons of war against the bulwarks of practical righteousness, the common enemy will meet with an ally where he ought to find a foe, and the capital and its dependencies will soon be taken. But though I have not heard many of them preach, I have been in the habit of reading their published discourses, and it is my opinion that from the press they push the claims of practical righteousness to such an extreme, that I have often heard them censured for their excessive strictness; and it is fair to presume that they are not less urgent and severe when they are in the pulpit. But admitting, for the sake of the argument, that they do declaim against good works, we know that they practise them; and their hearers, with some few exceptions, will bear a comparison with the most virtuous members of society."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Then you admit that some of their hearers are not men of virtue—hence, does it not necessarily follow that their ministers preach a doctrine which leads to licentiousness?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"But this argument which you employ against the moral tendency of evangelical preaching is liable to two very formidable objections—it is fallacious, and it proves too much. It supposes that the conduct of a minority is the test by which the orthodoxy of the preacher is to be decided. But why fix on the minority as the test, when their relative number is a tacit proof that they are the exception to the general class of his hearers? If a few in a district are turbulent and factious, and disposed to rebellion, while the larger proportion of the people are peaceable and submissive, revering the authority of the laws, and cultivating the virtues of social life, would you recommend the suspension of the Habeas Corpus, as though the entire mass were in a state of revolt? Where would be the equity or the expediency of such a measure? Why impugn the character of all because a few are criminal, and why involve the innocent and the guilty in one indiscriminate visitation of punishment? And would not your argument apply with equal, if not with stronger force, to the anti-evangelical clergy? Have they no immoral hearers? Have they none who set at open defiance the laws of God and man? Have they no scoffers who visit their temples?—no infidels who commune at their altars? Can they say of all in their congregations, 'Ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God'?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"But, you know, we enforce virtue, and tell our hearers that their final salvation depends on their becoming virtuous. This, you will admit, is a more powerful motive than that which an evangelical preacher employs, who says that we may be saved without it."

Mr. Roscoe.—"No, he does not say that we can be saved without becoming virtuous. This is an accusation which cannot be substantiated; and to bring it forward is to bear false witness against another. He does not require virtue on our part as a prerequisite to recommend us to the favour of God; but he enforces it as expressive of our reverence for his authority, and of our gratitude to his sovereign goodness in redeeming us from the curse of a violated law. He does not substitute our very defective righteousness for the righteousness of Jesus Christ, which would be an entire abandonment of one of the most essential doctrines of the gospel; but he tells us that the grace of God that bringeth salvation, teaches us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world. Indeed, the evangelical minister requires, on the part of his adherents, a higher degree of virtue than his opponent, and he employs more powerful motives to enforce it. He requires the entire renovation of the soul, and such a conversion from all the evil habits and impure propensities of our nature, as shall constitute us new creatures in Christ Jesus. Do you enforce virtue from an appeal to the authority of God? so does your evangelical brother. Do you enforce it by a reference to its own loveliness, and its tendency to promote personal and relative happiness? so does he. But he goes a step further—he presses into the service of the pulpit the motives which arise from the redemption of the soul by the death of Christ; and if we look around us, we shall perceive that these exert a more powerful influence on the principles and conduct of men, than any other which ever has been or ever can be employed. Men who will resist authority may be subdued by clemency, and many whom a dread of punishment could not reclaim from evil, have been turned from the error of their ways after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward them hath appeared. And then, like the eunuch of the Scriptures, they have gone on their way rejoicing, ever ready to give to others a reason of the hope within them; saying, under the impulse of devout gratitude, rather than vainglorious ostentation, 'Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.'"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"We very well know that those who admire evangelical preaching are, generally speaking, more loquacious on the subject of religion, and more religiously disposed in their habits, than others; but this is one of the objections which we have against it. If we feel too little, they feel too much; and if we are not quite so religious in our habits as we ought to be, they go to the opposite extreme, and become enthusiasts. We keep within the boundary which reason and decorum mark out, but they cross it; and while we restrain our passions, and rarely discuss the awful subjects of religion in our social interviews, they yield to impulses and excitements, which they rashly ascribe to a mental intercourse with an invisible world, and thus they approach to the very verge of fanaticism."

Mr. Roscoe.—"But surely you do not object to a person who has felt the renewing power of the grace of God, ascribing the great change to its real cause, expressing at the same time his joyful gratitude to God for effecting it."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"What I dislike and condemn is the strong effervescence of feeling which so often makes its appearance amongst the admirers of evangelical preaching, and which leads them to use terms of expression which are more nearly allied to rhapsody than sober truth and reality."

Mr. Roscoe.—"You know that, on all subjects, men speak as they feel; and therefore, when their passions are strongly excited by religious truth, they ought not to be condemned or censured if they do give utterance to some expressions which may appear rather extravagant to an apathetic mind; they speak naturally, that is, in character. Let me give you an example. Can a man of a refined taste, and who is very excitable, avoid being deeply interested by the sublime or beautiful in the natural, or by the pathetic or tragical in the moral world? No. It is impossible. He is affected before he is conscious of feeling, and often when he is incapable of assigning the cause of it. To argue that this liability to strong excitement is a proof of the imbecility of our mind, or of our tendency to fanatical illusions, is nothing less than a begging of the question—a species of artifice which cannot be tolerated. Our nature is liable to excitement, and we cannot avoid it. It is, upon the whole, considered a favourable symptom of a fine taste or a good disposition. We prefer it to stoicism, to apathy, and to a mental dulness, which neither harmonious sounds nor enchanting scenes can move. If, then, our passions are necessarily stirred within us, and sometimes powerfully stirred by external objects, by what law is it rendered improper for a man to be deeply affected by the momentous truths of revelation? Does the law of our nature forbid it? No. You yourself have confessed that the admirers of evangelical preaching are in general strongly, too strongly affected by what they believe. To strip your charges of the measured language in which they are brought, do you mean to say that they are too deeply affected by the awful descriptions which the sacred writers have given us of the miseries of the damned; or too strongly animated by the sublime anticipations of a blissful immortality; or too grateful to the Lord of glory for bearing their sins in his own body on the tree; and too intense in their desires after a more perfect conformity to the purity of the Divine nature? But is this possible?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"We certainly cannot love Almighty God too much, nor can we be too grateful to him for his mercies, temporal and spiritual; but when we are speaking to each other about our religious feelings, I think, as the apostle says, we should let our moderation be known."

Mr. Roscoe.—"But, to speak naturally, we should speak as we feel. I remember a poor woman of the name of Allen, who often used to perplex me when we conversed together on religious topics; she always left a vague impression on my mind that there was a something in religion which I had never discovered."

"I am fully convinced," said Mrs. John Roscoe, apologizing for obtruding her remarks, "that those who embrace evangelical sentiments are more religious in their conversation and habits than those who do not. But it is at the awful hour of death that the difference becomes the more apparent and striking. We had a servant, a member of a Dissenting chapel, who lived with us some years, but when she was taken ill she left us to go to her father, a poor pious man, with whom she resided for several months before she died. I often went to see her, and was standing by her side when she breathed her last. She was composed and even cheerful in prospect of death, but it was the cheerfulness of a spirit made happy by the consolations of religion, and which expected to be still happier in the celestial world.[15] I recollect asking her what made her so happy when death was so near, and her reply, though I did not then, and do not yet comprehend its full import, made such a strong impression, that I have never forgotten it—'His sweet promise, Come unto me, and I will give you rest. I do come to him; he has given me rest of soul; and he has provided a rest for me in heaven. And you, dear Madam, must come to him to be saved and made happy.'"

Mr. Roscoe.—"It is now about twelve months since I was travelling with an eminent physician. Our conversation happened to turn on the state of religion in the country, and on the evangelical and anti-evangelical clergy and laity of our own church; when he stated that, in the discharge of his professional duties, he was often called to witness the termination of human life—the retiring of the actors from the busy stage—the departure of intelligent beings from one world to another—and that he had uniformly found, that those who imbibe evangelical sentiments die much more like the Christians of the Bible than those who do not. He gave it as the result of long experience, that evangelical religion, though much despised, is greatly conducive to the happiness of man, especially in his last moments. This fact produced a deep impression on my mind, as he said it had done on his."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Yes; the imagination, when acted upon by evangelical opinions and impulses, very often holds a pretended intercourse with Heaven, and sees sights and hears sounds which are supernatural; but are we so far gone from the sober restraints of reason as to become the advocates of enthusiastic raptures?"

Mr. Roscoe.—"I am not surprised at what you say, as I once used to talk in a similar strain, but now, blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the delusion has vanished, and I am convinced that what I then called, and what you still call the raptures of a disordered imagination, are the triumphs of faith over the terrors of death; and that the glowing expressions which often fall from the lips of the dying believer are entirely in accordance with the genius of the gospel."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"I have no doubt but such strongly excitable persons will be saved, if they are sincere."

Mr. Roscoe.—"And why should you doubt their sincerity? If you see a man devoting his mind to the pursuits of commerce, or of literature, or of pleasure, you do not feel at liberty to impugn his motives; then why should you do so when you see him devoting his mind to religion? Is religion the only subject which we are forbidden to approach? or if we do approach it with reverence for its authority, with ardent gratitude for its sacred communications, with strong interest in its sublime enunciations of a future state of existence, are we to be reproached for insincerity and hypocrisy? You accuse us of ostentation, because we make a more decided profession of religion than some of our neighbours; but allow me to ask you if the spirit in which this charge originates has not exuded its venom against pure and undefiled religion in every age of the Christian church, when it has been embodied in a living character?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Why, you know that some who have made the greatest pretensions to religion, have been guilty of the most dishonourable conduct!"

Mr. Roscoe.—"Yes, I know it; and I confess that the inconsistent conduct of some professors of religion induced me, for many years, to cherish very unfavourable opinions against all who embraced evangelical sentiments; but I am now satisfied that I acted neither wisely nor equitably. Because one member of a family, or ten members of a religious community, act inconsistently with their professions to each other, am I at liberty to condemn the whole?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"But you will admit that it is calculated to excite suspicion."

Mr. Roscoe.—"It may excite suspicion where an evil passion or where prejudice has gained the ascendency, but not otherwise. I maintain that the law of equity forbids our suspecting the sincerity and uprightness of any man until he gives us a cause for doing so. Am I to suspect the honour, the integrity, and the friendship of Mr. Stevens, because some one who goes to the same church, and professes the same religious opinions, has been guilty of fraud, or sacrificed his honour by attempting to wound the reputation of his friend?"

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"But when people make a greater profession than their neighbours, it is natural for us to expect more exemplary conduct."

Mr. Roscoe.—"Certainly; and if they are not exemplary in their conduct you may impeach their sincerity; but you ought to confine the act of impeachment to the offender—to extend it to others would be unjust. If a professor of religion run to the same excess of riot as others—if he press to your theatres—if he visit your card parties or your balls—you may very justly reproach him; but if he do not, such is the fastidious and antichristian spirit of the age, you think it strange, and begin to speak evil of him. If he act in direct opposition to his religious principles, you charge him with hypocrisy; if he act in conformity with them, he is subjected to the same imputation, with this essential difference in his favour—that the first accusation would be just, while the latter would be groundless."

Mrs. John Roscoe.—"I very much dislike indiscriminate and wholesale accusations. We ought not to censure one person on account of the imperfections of another; nor insinuate a charge against any one, unless we have strong evidence to sustain it."

Miss Roscoe.—"Very just, aunt, but such is the practice of this strange world; and though we protest against it, yet we can obtain no redress. When one who has been gay becomes pious, the magicians prophesy that he will go off into a state of derangement; if he retains his reason, as is usually the case, they express a devout wish that the motives of his conduct may prove to be sincere; if he act in accordance with his religious principles, and refuse to conform to their customs and habits, he is stigmatized as unsocial, precise, and hypocritical; and such is the degree of virulence which goes forth against him, that if no imperfections can be discovered in his character, some will be imputed; and if no rumours come from the north to blast or tarnish his reputation, they are easily raised at home by the magic wand of calumny."

Mrs. John Roscoe.—"I am quite weary of this censorious spirit, its bitterness and its sarcasms. I would willingly contribute towards raising five hundred pounds, as a prize for the best essay on the antichristian character of this evil spirit, and the most effectual means by which it can be exorcised from amongst us."

Miss Roscoe.—"And so would I, dear aunt; I am sure we could raise the money, if we could get a first-rate pious writer to give us the book."

Rev. Mr. Roscoe.—"Courtesy requires that I yield the point to the ladies, who, to their honour, generally take the part of the accused; but (addressing his brother) I still believe that the offer of an unconditional salvation to men of every description of character is very hazardous to the interests of public and private virtue."

Mr. Roscoe.—"But the evangelical clergy do not, if I judge from their written discourses, make that unconditional offer which you suppose. They require repentance towards God, before they inculcate faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. They require that we should forsake our sins, before they encourage us to hope for mercy. And then the faith which they inculcate is not a mere philosophical assent to the truth of Christianity, which may leave the evil passions and propensities of the mind unsubdued, but such a faith as shall, by its own reaction, purify the imagination, overcome the allurements and fascinations of the world, and work that conformity of soul to the purity of the Divine nature, which forms the great line of distinction between a real and a nominal Christian; between one who is born of the flesh, and one who is born of the Spirit; between the natural man, in whose estimation the things of the Spirit of God are foolishness, and the spiritual man, who discerns them in all their simplicity and relationships. You talk of a conditional salvation; but if you intend by that phrase that we are required to do something by which we are to merit the favour of God and a seat in his celestial kingdom, you hold an opinion which is opposed to the Scriptures and destructive to human happiness; for who can tell when he has acquired that exact degree of virtue which will justify his claim? Indeed, my brother, we ought always to remember that we are sinners—that in the most improved state of our character we are yet imperfect—that after all the acts of obedience which we may perform, we are unprofitable servants—and that if we are ever saved, as I hope we shall be, it will not be for our own works or deservings, as the articles of our church declare, but by grace, 'For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God' (Eph. ii. 8). Considering the indifference which is so generally manifested by persons of all ranks, and of every character, to the momentous truth on which the final and eternal destiny of the soul depends, and the fearful inroads which the worst of principles are making amongst the morals of social life; considering the rapidity with which the fashion of this world is passing away, and how soon we shall all be called to appear before the judgment-seat of Christ; instead of repressing any ardent passion for religion, we ought to cherish it; and should contemplate the secession of one sinner, who withdraws from the deluded and infatuated multitude to repent and to pray, with a kindred feeling to that of the spirits of the invisible world, of whom our Lord says, that 'likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons which need no repentance.'"

The conversation was here interrupted by some of the party moving to the parlour window; when Mr. Roscoe said to his brother, "There is, I see, a gentleman coming up the carriage drive, one of your own order, who is a living witness that regeneration is something essentially different from water baptism, and quite independent of it; and also that a person of the purest virtue requires a Mediator and a Saviour, no less than the most profane and worthless."

"Who is the gentleman?"

"The Rev. Mr. Guion, the rector of Norton."[16]

"I have heard of him, and I am told that he is a man of great attainments."

"His learning is great. He is a most eloquent preacher; and he is evangelical."

Mr. Guion was now ushered into the parlour, accompanied by Mrs. Stevens; the ceremony of introduction was soon over, and the parties very soon began to be acquainted. After some desultory conversation, the Rev. Mr. Roscoe (addressing himself to Mr. Guion) said, "I had the honour of making the acquaintance of two ladies, who are, I believe, members of your cure, the Misses Brownjohn. I met them at Buxton last autumn; I hope they are quite well."

"They are, I believe, very well; but just now they are involved in a vexatious perplexity."

"Nothing very painful, I hope."

Why, the case is this; they had a nephew who left England for the East Indies when they were little girls. No tidings were heard of him for many years; but about twelve months ago, intelligence of his death arrived, and he died, it appears, without a will, and very wealthy. There have been a few claimants to his property, but the two ladies in question are judged by many to be the next of kin, and they have commenced proceedings; but there is a mortifying hitch in the progress of their suit, for, on searching the parish register, there is no record either of their birth or their baptism."

"These old records used to be kept in a most shameful way. I don't wonder to hear of their vexatious perplexity."

"It is a little amusing to see how differently the two ladies are affected by this unlucky discovery. Miss Dorothy is in high dudgeon, because the non-production of the document arrests her progress towards the possession of a large fortune. But Miss Susan is most affected, by its cutting her off from the prospect of going to heaven, believing, as she does, that no other than baptismal regeneration is necessary or even possible; but now, for want of a fair copy of her registration, she has no legitimate proof that she is born again, even though she has a faint recollection of her godfather and godmother."

"What course of procedure do they intend to adopt to obviate the evils resulting from the non-registration of these two events—birth and baptism?"

"Miss Dorothy has employed a very clever solicitor, who is drawing up her case to lay before counsel, caring but little about her baptism if she can succeed in getting at the money; while Miss Susan cares nought about the money in comparison with her spiritual birth. She thinks that her confirmation, which she distinctly remembers, and the trouble she has often been put to by the week's preparation for the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, will all prove of no avail, for want of this fair copy of her registration. She has called into requisition the official aid of the bishop's secretary, to lay her case before his lordship; and with her the point of vexatious perplexity is, who shall now regenerate her, to fit her for heaven, if she can't prove that the thing has been done. She won't let me do it, because I am an evangelical; and she fears the bishop won't give his sanction to its being done by a clergyman with whom she sustains no ecclesiastical relationship. However, she has made up her mind on this point, so I hear, that if the bishop thinks it is necessary she should be baptized, and if he won't give his sanction for her to go into another parish to be born again, she will break up her establishment, and become a parishioner at Aston, and then the Rev. Mr. Cole will do the thing properly."

"This case of Miss Susan Brownjohn," said Mrs. John Roscoe, addressing her husband, "upsets, according to my thinking, your doctrine of baptismal regeneration; for it is monstrous to imagine that the Almighty will make a person's fitness for heaven depend on the fidelity of a parish registrar, who is often a stupid fellow, and sometimes more partial to his cups than to doing his duties."

With this half-grave and half-comic remark the colloquy ended, and the party separated, some going one way and some another, but all in a very good humour.

"Your aunt," said Mr. Guion, as he was bidding adieu to Miss Roscoe, "has a rich vein of satire imbedded in her mental stratum."

"True, Sir, but I believe there is a new formation progressing, of more sterling worth; a discovery made very recently."

"Indeed! This is joyful intelligence. Such discoveries are made by angelic spirits, who care nought about any other formations of our earth; and when made, they kindle into celestial rapture."

"And we can participate in their joy."

"Your papa," said Mrs. John Roscoe to her niece, as they were promenading in the garden, "is a powerful reasoner; his arguments seem to me quite irresistible."

"He is," my dear aunt, "a spiritually enlightened man; and he not only understands what he believes, but he feels its power."

"Alas!" my dear Sophia, "I feel dark and bewildered; and I know not what to do to gain mental peace. O how I long for some rays of that celestial light which has illumined his mind and yours. The incipient thoughts of my heart, which have long been nestling there, are becoming powerful convictions; and force me to believe that there is a reality in our common faith, which you and your father have discovered, but which we have not."

"The Lord, I trust," dear aunt, "is beginning in your soul the great good work, which will issue in your eternal salvation."

"What makes you think so?"

"I think so because your spirit, which has long remained dormant, and comparatively insensible under the repressing and benumbing influence of Tractarian delusions, is now stirring within you; struggling into newness of life; acquiring the moral sense of spiritual perception and feeling; craving after spiritual nourishment and consolation; willing to yield itself to God, to be renovated, redeemed, and sanctified; and to walk with him. These are unmistakeable signs."

ON ATTENDING AN EVANGELICAL MINISTRY.