CHAPTER IV. The Author becomes a happy husband, a happy father. He embraces "the truth, as it is in Jesus ;" and from this, and other combining causes, he is involved in great difficulties. Death deprives him of his wedded friend, and of his infant son, and he is overtaken by a series of calamities. Hail! wedded love! Connubial friendship, hail! Bas'd on esteem,....if love supplies the gale, On smooth seas wafted to the realms of day. AFTER six tedious months, from the morning of my Eliza's depar ture from the mansion of her grandfather, had completed their tardy round, yielding to my unremitted importunities, she consented to accompany me to the altar. We were attended by William, and his lady, with our dear Mrs. Allen; and I received, from the hands of our very dear brother, an inestimable treasure, which constituted me, in my own estimation, the happiest of human beings. As I had no house prepared, I gratefully accepted the kindness of this beloved brother, who invited us to tarry with him, until we could accommodate ourselves; and, if I except one unhappy misunderstanding, which took place soon after our marriage, no wedded pair were ever blessed with more unbroken felicity. The disagreement, to which I advert, would not have continued so long, but for the instigations of our brother William, who insisted upon my supporting what he called my dignity, which, as he said, could only be maintained by the submission of my wife. The quarrel, like the quarrels of most married people, originated in a mere trifle; but the question was, who should make the first conciliatory advances. For two whole days we did not exchange a single word!!* William still imposingly urging me, never to surrender my prerogative! At length, unable to endure such a state of wretchedness, I told William, I would not live another hour in such a situation; he only ridiculed me for my folly, and bid me take the consequence. I, however, entered the chamber of my wife, and, extending my hand, most affectionately said: My soul's best treasure, let us no longer continue this state of mournful estrangement! for the world I would not thus live another day. Why, my love, our sorrows will arise, from a thousand sources; let us not render each other miserable. The dear girl burst into tears, and throwing her faithful arms around me, sobbed upon my bosom; with difficulty articulating, "O! my precious friend, you have, as you always will have, the superiority. God for ever bless my faithful, my condescending husband." From this moment we bade adieu to dissension of every description, successfully cultivating that harmony of disposition, and augmenting confidence, which cannot fail of insuring domestic felicity. We soon removed to a house of our own, and there, as I believe, enjoyed as much of happiness, as ever fell to the lot of humanity. Yet, although thus satisfied with each other, there were sources of inquietude, which created us some distress. I had heard much of Mr. Relly; he was a conscientious, and zealous preacher, in the city of London. He had, through many revolving years, continued faithful to the ministry committed to him, and he was the theme of every religious sect. He appeared, as he was represented to me, highly erroneous; and my indignation against him, as has already been seen, was very strong. I had frequently been solicited to hear him, merely that I might be an ear witness of what was termed his blasphemies; but, I arrogantly said, I would not be a murderer of time. Thus I passed on for a number of years, hearing all manner of evil said of Mr. Relly, and believing all I heard, while every day augmented the inveterate hatred, which I bore the man, and his adherents. When a worshipping brother, or sister, belonging to the communion, which I considered as honoured by the approbation of Deity, was, by this deceiver, drawn from the paths of rectitude, the anguish of my spirit was indescribable ; and I was ready to say, the secular arm ought to interpose to prevent the perdition of souls. I recollect one instance in particular, which pierced me to the soul. A young lady, of irreproachable life, remarkable for piety, and highly respected by the Tabernacle congregation and church, of which I was a devout member, had been ensnared; to my great astonishment, she had been induced to hear, and having heard, she had embraced the pernicious errors of this detestable babbler; she was become a believer, a firm, and unwavering believer of universal redemption! Horrible! most horrible! So high an opinion was entertained of my talents, having myself been a teacher among the Methodists, and such was my standing in Mr. Whitefield's church, that I was deemed adequate to reclaiming this wanderer, and I was strongly urged to the pursuit. The poor, deluded young woman was abundantly worthy our most arduous efforts. He, that converteth the sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins. Thus I thought, thus I said, and, swelled with a high idea of my own importance, I went, accompanied by two or three of my Christian brethren, to see, to converse with, and, if need were, to admonish this simple, weak, but, as we heretofore believed, CHAPTER IV. The Author becomes a happy husband, a happy father "the truth, as it is in Jesus ;" and from this, and causes, he is involved in great difficulties. Death his wedded friend, and of his infant son, and he series of calamities. Hail! wedded love! Connubial friendship,! On smooth seas wafted to the realms of day. AFTER six tedious months, from the morning of ture from the mansion of her grandfather, had c dy round, yielding to my unremitted importunities. accompany me to the altar. We were attended by lady, with our dear Mrs. Allen; and I received, fro very dear brother, an inestimable treasure, which co own estimation, the happiest of human beings. As: pared, I gratefully accepted the kindness of this be! invited us to tarry with him, until we could acco and, if I except one unhappy misunderstanding, wh after our marriage, no wedded pair were ever bless ken felicity. The disagreement, to which I advert, · tinued so long, but for the instigations of our broth sisted upon my supporting what he called my d said, could only be maintained by the submissi quarrel, like the quarrels of most married people, trifle; but the question was, who should make advances. For two whole days we did not excha William still imposingly urging me, never to surre At length, unable to endure such a state of wretched I would not live another hour in such a situation; for my folly, and bid me take the consequence. the chamber of my wife, and, extending my han said: My soul's best treasure, let us no longer mournful estrangement! for the world I would day. Why, my love, our sorrows will arise, from let us not render each other miserable. The dear and throwing her faithful arms around me, sob with difficulty articulating, "O! my precious fr always will have, the superiority. God for eve ( ved. believed, sir?" and most devoutly wished myerly, expressed deep commiseranothing but head-knowledge; te; and, recollecting an engage e. ng lady observed my confusion, riumph. I arose to depart; the ry; addressed each of us in the e seemed to wear a resemblance d; it was stamped by benignity, ched us by her good wishes. hren saw she had the advantage of e indeed unanswerable. My pride ertain the exact sentiments of my Poor soul, said I, she is far gone is, notwithstanding, a very sensible have assuredly discovered, that she Yes, said I, she has a great deal of ay be a lost, damned soul. I hope not, e is a very good young woman. I saw, rin, that the result of this visit had deon of my companions. But I could only emnly observing: It was better not to converse ates, and it would be judicious never to associate y occasion From this period, I myself carefully versalist, most cordially did I hate them. My meritorious female. Fully persuaded, that I could easily convince her of her errors, I entertained no doubt respecting the result of my undertaking. The young lady received us with much kindness and condescension, while, as I glanced my eye upon her fine countenance, beaming with intelligence, mingling pity and contempt grew in my bosom. 'After the first ceremonies, we sat for some time silent; at length I drew up a heavy sigh, and uttered a pathetic sentiment, relative to the deplorable condition of those, who live, and die in unbelief; and I concluded a violent declamation, by pronouncing, with great earnestness, He, that believeth not, shall be damned. “And pray, sir,” said the young lady, with great sweetness, "Pray, sir, what is the unbeliever damned for not believing?" What is he damned for not believing? Why, he is damned for not believing. "But, my dear sir, I asked what was that, which he did not believe, for which he was damned ?" Why, for not believing in Jesus Christ, to be sure. "Do you mean to say, that unbelievers are damned, for not believing there was such a person as Jesus Christ ?" No, I do not; a man may believe there was such a person, and yet be damned. “What then, sir, must he believe, in order to avoid damnation ?" Why he must believe, that Jesus Christ is a complete Saviour. "Well, suppose he were to believe, that Jesus Christ was the complete Saviour of others, would this belief save him?" No, he must believe, that Christ Jesus is his complete Saviour; every individual must believe for himself, that Jesus Christ is his complete Saviour. 66 Why, sir, is Jesus Christ the Saviour of any unbelievers ?" No, madam. 66 Why, then, should any unbeliever believe, that Jesus Christ is his Saviour, if he be not his Saviour ?" I 66 say, he is not the Saviour of any one, until he believes. Then, if Jesus be not the Saviour of the unbeliever, until he believes, the unbeliever is called upon to believe a lie. It appears to me, sir, that Jesus is the complete Saviour of unbelievers; and that unbelievers are called upon to believe the truth; and that, by believing, they are saved, in their own apprehension, saved from all those dreadful fears, which are consequent upon a state of conscious condemnation." No, madam; you are dreadfully, I trust not fatally, misled. Jesus never was, nor never will be, the Saviour of any unbeliever. |