breast, to ascribe to a divine interposition particular occurrences, which fall out in a certain relation to character and moral principle. Almost every man has a sort of natural propensity to trace effects to their causes; and this same propensity it is, which, in combination with our moral sense, makes us hasty to interpret the mysterious hieroglyphics of the Book of Providence. And yet to be deaf to the voice which sometimes addresses us, were to display an apathy as impious and criminal as theirs, who tempted God in the desert, and who hear ing, heard not; and seeing, saw not. The line of right feeling lies between the two extremes of superstition and infidelity. Superstition is the morbid excitement of that moral sense, which universally makes man sympathise in the notion of a superior and superintending power-infidelity is the palsy of that same sense, effected as far as artificial and unnatural restraints can effect the suppression, or eradication of an essential part of our moral constitution. The prevalence of superstitious feelings among mankind will not appear wonderful, when it is considered how much room is left, where no revelation is interposed, for the busy workings of imagination, under the promptings both of curiosity and fear. Such a bias, to give a moral significancy to the events of life, demonstrates the connexion of the soul with a higher intelligence, and proves the existence, though at the same time the disturbance of that moral sympathy, which, in its healthful state, constitutes the perfection, but, in its extinction, the deepest degradation, of our nature. While, therefore, we should guard against such an interpretation of providence, as might savour of superstition, it is equally necessary to check that spirit of infidelity and apathy, which in the present age, seems to be gaining ground, even among the higher class of Christian professors. The dread of superstition, and the spirit of secular philosophy, have driven many from the belief of a particular providence, and made them slow to discern the workings of the divine hand in the earth. It may be difficult to keep the mind wisely balanced between the two extremes; but let it at the same time be remembered, that a slight error in interpreting providence is less injurious than a total denial, or a merely general acknowledgment, of the Lord's hand. The Scriptures constantly inculcate a regard to the events of time, as indications of the divine will; and judgments are as constantly threatened against those who will not confess when his arm is made bare. At the same time, it would be the height of presumption to extend this principle in any other light, than as the expositor of the great general doctrines of revelation. By itself, it is no sufficient guide; and in reference to ourselves, and our personal enemies and party interests, we are almost sure to misapply it. The visitation of trouble upon those who have been odious to ourselves, has too often been made a signal for resentment and triumph. Over our own feelings and interests, it is necessary always to hold a strong restraint. As it regards events of a public nature, there is less danger of falling into error; and with regard to a great proportion of them, whether we trace them to a right cause or not, there can be no doubt as to the lessons they teach, and the improvement they imperatively demand. One such case I propose to narrate in this paper, and with the same adherence to the plain and simple facts of the case as I have observed in my former communi cations. My early days were spent in the heart of the great metropolis, when, in connection with many individuals who have since risen to most important stations in the church of Christ, and with several who have become eminent missionaries in foreign countries, I made my first attempt to do good. In company with some pious persons engaged in the same work, I visited frequently a village in Surry, remarkable for the loveliness of its natural scenery, and distinguished at once by the elegant residences of many of our wealthy citizens, but by a village population of the rudest and most unchristianlike order. After ascertaining that this village was deplorably destitute of the means of instruction, and grievously in want of them, it was resolved to hire a room, for the purpose of establishing a village Sunday-school. But Sunday-schools were, at that day, not so popular as they have since become. It was about the time that the celebrated Bishop Horsley endeavoured to preach and write them down, and strong prejudices were entertained in most places against them. In a village distinguished, as this was, by the influence of many gentry and clergy opposed to innovation, and the education of the poor, it may easily be supposed, we met great resistance. No house was open to us. Some of the villagers would have countenanced the attempt, but they feared the frown of the influential class. At last, it was resolved to commence operations in the open air; and a venerable tree, which extended wide its protecting boughs in the centre of the village, was chosen as a suitable spot. A veteran of the little company was selected as the person most suitable for the arduous service. The day was fixed: the little party repaired, on the Sabbath morning, to the village, and notified, from cottage to cotNEW SERIES, No. 16. tage, that there would be a sermon preached in the afternoon, under the large tree. At the time appointed, the service commenced, though in the midst of rather a riotous and untractable rabble. After a short space, however, the preacher was enabled to proceed, though not without interruption. Before he had completed his discourse, symptoms of violence were indicated, and those of the party who were not made of the firmest materials began to lose heart, and tremble for the consequences. Conceive the consternation which ensued, when a shout on the outside of the crowd intimated that outrage was approaching. The service was interrupted; but our preacher calmly maintained his standing on an elevated position against the tree, when forth stepped the champion of the persecutors, and, in a violent and outrageous manner, presented a blunderbuss, with which he swore he would shoot the unoffending minister. Dauntless and calm stood the messenger of peace, and intreated the infuriated profligate to desist and repent; but imagine, reader, what were the emotions of these humble evangelists, when they saw the most determined resolution in the demeanour of the wretched persecutor, and the piece still levelled at their preacher's breast, who refused to descend from the station he occupied, or to desist from his purpose, whatever might be the consequence. "Let him fire-I am serving my Saviour, and I am in His hand: I fear not his threats."-A moment's dreadful pause ensued, like that (to compare small things with great) which, it is said, sometimes takes place in a field of battle before the conflicting powers commence the assault. Each stood firm, and, in a moment, the blunderbuss was discharged at the preacher. A thrill of horror went through even the breasts of our 2 A enemies, at the thought of such a deed. All looked to see the preacher fall down dead; while the assailant made the best use he could of the confusion and panic which ensued, and retreated precipitately. But our friend, the preacher, stood firm and unhurt, for, as he had suspected, the piece contained no shot. The confusion which ensued was, however, such as could not be quelled; yet our preacher was enabled to announce his intention of resuming his purpose on the ensuing Sabbath. With this the assembly was dismissed, and the evangelists returned to town without further molestation. The next Sunday arrived; the time of assembling came; the preacher with his friends were at their post. Many of the villagers were collected together, and some evinced not only a willingness to listen to the message of the preacher, but a degree of sympathy for the outrage which had previously been committed. The foul spirit of persecution appeared no more. The audience was numerous, and, upon the whole, attentive. Things went on thus for some time, when a new and most infamous assault was made, not upon the preacher merely, but upon the whole assembly that had convened to listen to his instructions. Opposite to Opposite to the preacher's station was a butcher's shop and yard; and, in some part of these premises, these enemies of religion had contrived to conceal a force-pump, or engine, by means of which, as by a fire-engine, they were enabled to play a stream of blood, which had been saved for the purpose from slaughtered animals, over the congregation and the preacher. This infamous device had the effect of completely breaking up the meeting. Yet, undismayed by this brutal behaviour, the friends of truth resolved not to be beaten from the field. They saw that here, at least, was a deep need for the civilizing and humanizing influence of Christianity. Some efforts were made to detect the parties who had engaged in this infamous project, but in vain. They had so concealed themselves as to elude detection, and it appeared that they would go unpunished. It was now debated whether any further attempts should be made to preach in the open air; and, after some deliberation, when it was found that, under these circumstances, we could claim no legal protection, and might be made answerable for a riot, it was deemed prudent not again to expose the persons of the people, as well as the preacher, to these assaults, but to make a new and more strenuous effort to obtain a room, and thereby to avail ourselves of the strong arm which the law would afford us. After a short period this was effected. A cottager opened his doors to the persecuted friends of religion, and a regular Sunday School institution founded, which seemed greatly to conciliate the regards of the lower orders. With this undertaking was connected an evening service, at which a few adult persons used to attend. was I am now arrived at that part of my narrative which suggested the cautionary remarks I have placed at the beginning of this paper. But a short time elapsed before a singular and deep impression was produced throughout the neighbourhood, by an occurrence which all confessed to be a judgment, and which, as to its effects at least, in the promotion of the Gospel, was an evident interposition of the divine hand, both to suppress opposition, and afford a remarkable "door of entrance" to the people. Three young men had been principally concerned in the second day's outrage, and, for a season, they contrived to conceal their wicked ness. A short time, however, sufficed to bring it to light, in a most awful and affecting manner. One of the individuals was working in a field, I think digging potatoes, with several others, when he suddenly cried out that he was seized with a violent illness. He was taken from the field to his home, and medical advice soon procured, but the conviction was deeply fixed on his mind that he was struck with death. In the deepest agony of spirit, he sent for his wicked companions, and admonished them of the sin he and they had committed together, in " persecuting the Methodists." He languished, as far as I can now recollect, but a few hours, and then expired in the most fearful agonies both of body and mind. Only a few weeks past by before a second of these wretched persecutors was seized by a fatal disease, -I think it was an infectious fever, and cut down in the midst of his days and his sins. The third, who had seen the end of his companions in wickedness, now remained. Abashed, and almost ashamed to be seen abroad, after their dreadful visitation, which became the subject of universal conversation, he resolved on leaving the place. He did so; but though he fled from the face of man, he could neither escape the hand nor the eye of the great Judge. He was killed, by an accident, on the high-road between London and the village where he lived. These singular occurrences, which all took place within the space of a very few months, made a strong impression upon the neighbourhood. All persecution ceased; and, by another occurrence in providence, of a different, but not less remarkable character, the very house and shop from whence the outrage had proceeded, was, in a short time, vacated by the family who inhabited it, and some of whom had been the ringleaders of the persecution, on account of a series of misfortunes in business, which, I believe, brought them to ruin; and this very house henceforth, for many years, became the home of all the good men, who came to the village for benevolent purposes. A pious family, unconscious of all that had passed, came into the premises, and cordially lent their aid and countenance, to the support of the interest of religion. Many a time, after the labours of a long journey, and the fatigues of the school and the other public services, have I been entertained in this very house, with other my fellow-labourers, in the most hospitable manner, while we have talked over the Lord's wonderful dispensations, and his gracious interpositions to silence the enemies of his own cause. For several years I continued to visit this interesting place, and found the village cause not only undisturbed, but prosperous. A А considerable congregation was raised, and much good was done. Many persons, young and old, were blessed by the instructions of these humble labourers. It is now near thirty years since the providence of God removed me from these scenes of useful and pleasing labours, to a distant part of the kingdom; but I have had the pleasure of hearing, at intervals, that the cause of religion is still prospering, and has now grown into a much more respectable external aspect, since the days of the persecutors, and the first efforts of the itinerants. This memorial of days of trial to the friends of village-preaching, gone by, never, I would hope, to return in our beloved country, may not be unacceptable to some who may yet retain the recollection, and recognize the spot, where these events transpired. I remain yours, &c. EAGLET. DEFENCE OF THE PREACHING OF THEOLOGICAL STUDENTS. GENTLEMEN,-It was with a feeling of satisfaction that I observed, in your last number, the article of your correspondent "Marcus," in reference to that "On an ornamented Pulpit Style," which had previously appeared in your pages; for, thinking as I do, that to seek the acquisition of a chaste, and even of an elegant style, is the duty of every one who occupies the important station of a public instructor-that simplicity, far from being inconsistent with such a style, is essential to it-and that, when acquired, it becomes so habitual, as to interfere in no measure necessarily with the feelings of the heart, or with the full, impassioned, and energetic exhibition of the truth; the subject appeared to me also, "to call for further observations." I might perhaps have thought that there was still room for remark on the original subject, had not my attention been painfully arrested by a part of the observations of " Marcus," which I think ought not to pass unnoticed. While with him I lament that some mistake bombast for elegance, and substitute strings of weak and tawdry metaphors for strength of language and energy of thought, I deeply regret that he should have thought it proper to fix such a charge on a body of young men, who are now most important auxiliaries in the service of the sanctuary, and to whom we must look for the future supply of efficient and educated Ministers. His observations, with relation to them, appear to me to be alike uncalled for and unfounded. He, perhaps, did not intend the charge which he makes to be a general one, as he speaks of "some" of them; but the reflection is made in such a manner, as to produce the impression on the mind of a reader, unacquainted with facts, that the description of style reprobated, is peculiarly characteristic of students. This I do not hesitate in plain terms to deny. I do not mean to say, that it applies to others with at least equal propriety, and that it is, therefore, unjust to make them exclusively the subjects of it. Speaking generally, my acquaintance with them (and it is tolerably extensive), informs me, that their style of preaching is highly creditable to them. It may not be always elegant, and though it should be necessary to confess, that in some instances it is not even chaste; yet I must say, on the other hand, that I have not unfrequently heard sermons from students, the style of which would, to say the least, have reflected no disgrace on some who stand very high in public estimation. And if it is unjust to consider their style as generally deficient in respectability, the imputation of even an approach to such "nonsense,” as "making ships sail through the clouds, and fishes swim in the air," certainly merits the severest cen sure. Such things may be found amongst those who decry all education for the ministry, but it is very rarely indeed, that a student, even of the first year, is not above this. It is a fear of the injurious consequences which are likely to result from such statements, in such a publication, that induces me to endeavour to defend our young ministers from imputations, which have neither truth nor prudence for their warrant. Dependent upon them as we are, for services which we should find it very difficult to dispense with, it would have been highly imprudent to indulge in such a strain of remark, even if it were founded in truth. There is need rather to discourage than to stimulate a feeling, with relation to the services of a young Minister, to which we are too apt to yield our minds, which is as irrational as it is contrary to the plain intimations of Scripture. |